OR, THE ANGEL OF VENICE 
43 
 
Now.  Hear that dreadful bell !  Its fierce alarums toll 
Count Mortadello’s knell, the passing of his soul. 
MORTADELLO.  Fiend !  I will nail you up like vermin to a 
board— 
Murderer of women ! 
ORLANDO. 
I’ll atone dagger with sword. 
Here’s your false throat, you croaking frog of hell. 
THE DOGE.  [At the door.] 
Help, friends ! 
There’s a mad murderer in the church. 
ORLANDO. 
And so it ends. 
[He stabs MORTADELLO, who falls, dragging the 
sword with him.  ORLANDO flees behind the altar 
and escapes, as nobles, sword in hand, re-enter and 
pursue him.  The bell ceases to toll. 
THE DOGE.  Is Mortadello slain, slain too ?  O then let me 
Pass with the hapless ones into Eternity ? 
 
  
[He falls dead upon the corpse of MAGDALENA. 
MORTADELLO.  [Rising on one elbow.]  No, help me, loving 
friends, I live.  Is the day won ? 
A NOBLE.  Ay !  we lash home the fogs of revolution 
Are you sore hurt ? 
MORTADELLO. 
Hurt, ay !  but I shall live to flood 
These two-and-seventy isles with their children’s blood. 
Tend me, I faint.  She-wolf !  O putrid period ! 
[He falls again.  They support him and carry him in 
the chair of MAGDALENA. 
Was’t thou the Saint of Christ, the virgin vowed to God ? 
Tigress and snake !  Black-hearted whore !  God, let me strip 
Skin from flesh, alike my drouth in gore, those bowels rip 
From that false belly.  God !  I gasp !  Loosen my throat ! 
Some one calls.  Hell !  Death !  O sharp asp !