AN APARTMENT IN THE CENCI PALACE. by Percy Bysshe Shelley: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
This is the opening scene of Shelley's verse drama *The Cenci*, where we meet Count Cenci, a ruthless Roman nobleman who has just bribed the Pope to hide a murder.
The poem
ENTER COUNT CENCI AND CARDINAL CAMILLO. CAMILLO: That matter of the murder is hushed up If you consent to yield his Holiness Your fief that lies beyond the Pincian gate.— It needed all my interest in the conclave To bend him to this point; he said that you _5 Bought perilous impunity with your gold; That crimes like yours if once or twice compounded Enriched the Church, and respited from hell An erring soul which might repent and live: — But that the glory and the interest _10 Of the high throne he fills, little consist With making it a daily mart of guilt As manifold and hideous as the deeds Which you scarce hide from men’s revolted eyes. CENCI: The third of my possessions—let it go! _15 Ay, I once heard the nephew of the Pope Had sent his architect to view the ground, Meaning to build a villa on my vines The next time I compounded with his uncle: I little thought he should outwit me so! _20 Henceforth no witness—not the lamp—shall see That which the vassal threatened to divulge Whose throat is choked with dust for his reward. The deed he saw could not have rated higher Than his most worthless life:—it angers me! _25 Respited me from Hell! So may the Devil Respite their souls from Heaven! No doubt Pope Clement, And his most charitable nephews, pray That the Apostle Peter and the Saints Will grant for their sake that I long enjoy _30 Strength, wealth, and pride, and lust, and length of days Wherein to act the deeds which are the stewards Of their revenue.—But much yet remains To which they show no title. CAMILLO: Oh, Count Cenci! So much that thou mightst honourably live _35 And reconcile thyself with thine own heart And with thy God, and with the offended world. How hideously look deeds of lust and blood Through those snow white and venerable hairs!— Your children should be sitting round you now, _40 But that you fear to read upon their looks The shame and misery you have written there. Where is your wife? Where is your gentle daughter? Methinks her sweet looks, which make all things else Beauteous and glad, might kill the fiend within you. _45 Why is she barred from all society But her own strange and uncomplaining wrongs? Talk with me, Count,—you know I mean you well. I stood beside your dark and fiery youth Watching its bold and bad career, as men _50 Watch meteors, but it vanished not—I marked Your desperate and remorseless manhood; now Do I behold you in dishonoured age Charged with a thousand unrepented crimes. Yet I have ever hoped you would amend, _55 And in that hope have saved your life three times. CENCI: For which Aldobrandino owes you now My fief beyond the Pincian.—Cardinal, One thing, I pray you, recollect henceforth, And so we shall converse with less restraint. _60 A man you knew spoke of my wife and daughter— He was accustomed to frequent my house; So the next day HIS wife and daughter came And asked if I had seen him; and I smiled: I think they never saw him any more. _65 CAMILLO: Thou execrable man, beware!— CENCI: Of thee? Nay, this is idle: —We should know each other. As to my character for what men call crime Seeing I please my senses as I list, And vindicate that right with force or guile, _70 It is a public matter, and I care not If I discuss it with you. I may speak Alike to you and my own conscious heart— For you give out that you have half reformed me, Therefore strong vanity will keep you silent _75 If fear should not; both will, I do not doubt. All men delight in sensual luxury, All men enjoy revenge; and most exult Over the tortures they can never feel— Flattering their secret peace with others’ pain. _80 But I delight in nothing else. I love The sight of agony, and the sense of joy, When this shall be another’s, and that mine. And I have no remorse and little fear, Which are, I think, the checks of other men. _85 This mood has grown upon me, until now Any design my captious fancy makes The picture of its wish, and it forms none But such as men like you would start to know, Is as my natural food and rest debarred _90 Until it be accomplished. CAMILLO: Art thou not Most miserable? CENCI: Why miserable?— No.—I am what your theologians call Hardened;—which they must be in impudence, So to revile a man’s peculiar taste. _95 True, I was happier than I am, while yet Manhood remained to act the thing I thought; While lust was sweeter than revenge; and now Invention palls:—Ay, we must all grow old— And but that there remains a deed to act _100 Whose horror might make sharp an appetite Duller than mine—I’d do,—I know not what. When I was young I thought of nothing else But pleasure; and I fed on honey sweets: Men, by St. Thomas! cannot live like bees, _105 And I grew tired:—yet, till I killed a foe, And heard his groans, and heard his children’s groans, Knew I not what delight was else on earth, Which now delights me little. I the rather Look on such pangs as terror ill conceals, _110 The dry fixed eyeball; the pale, quivering lip, Which tell me that the spirit weeps within Tears bitterer than the bloody sweat of Christ. I rarely kill the body, which preserves, Like a strong prison, the soul within my power, _115 Wherein I feed it with the breath of fear For hourly pain. NOTE: _100 And but that edition 1821; But that editions 1819, 1839. CAMILLO: Hell’s most abandoned fiend Did never, in the drunkenness of guilt, Speak to his heart as now you speak to me; I thank my God that I believe you not. _120 [ENTER ANDREA.] ANDREA: My Lord, a gentleman from Salamanca Would speak with you. CENCI: Bid him attend me In the grand saloon. [EXIT ANDREA.] CAMILLO: Farewell; and I will pray Almighty God that thy false, impious words Tempt not his spirit to abandon thee. _125 [EXIT CAMILLO.] CENCI: The third of my possessions! I must use Close husbandry, or gold, the old man’s sword, Falls from my withered hand. But yesterday There came an order from the Pope to make Fourfold provision for my cursed sons; _130 Whom I had sent from Rome to Salamanca, Hoping some accident might cut them off; And meaning if I could to starve them there. I pray thee, God, send some quick death upon them! Bernardo and my wife could not be worse _135 If dead and damned:—then, as to Beatrice— [LOOKING AROUND HIM SUSPICIOUSLY.] I think they cannot hear me at that door; What if they should? And yet I need not speak Though the heart triumphs with itself in words. O, thou most silent air, that shalt not hear _140 What now I think! Thou, pavement, which I tread Towards her chamber,—let your echoes talk Of my imperious step scorning surprise, But not of my intent!—Andrea! NOTES: _131 Whom I had edition 1821; Whom I have editions 1819, 1839. _140 that shalt edition 1821; that shall editions 1819, 1839. [ENTER ANDREA.] ANDREA: My lord? CENCI: Bid Beatrice attend me in her chamber _145 This evening:—no, at midnight and alone. [EXEUNT.] SCENE 1.2:
This is the opening scene of Shelley's verse drama *The Cenci*, where we meet Count Cenci, a ruthless Roman nobleman who has just bribed the Pope to hide a murder. Cardinal Camillo attempts to reach out to any conscience Cenci might still have, but Cenci reacts by openly bragging about his cruelty, his enjoyment of others' pain, and his complete absence of remorse. The scene concludes with Cenci calling for his daughter Beatrice to come to his chamber at midnight, suggesting the horrific act he is planning against her.
Line-by-line
CAMILLO: That matter of the murder is hushed up / If you consent to yield his Holiness
CENCI: The third of my possessions—let it go! / Ay, I once heard the nephew of the Pope
CAMILLO: Oh, Count Cenci! / So much that thou mightst honourably live
CENCI: For which Aldobrandino owes you now / My fief beyond the Pincian.—Cardinal,
CENCI: Nay, this is idle:—We should know each other. / As to my character for what men call crime
CAMILLO: Art thou not / Most miserable?
CAMILLO: Hell's most abandoned fiend / Did never, in the drunkenness of guilt,
CENCI: The third of my possessions! I must use / Close husbandry, or gold, the old man's sword,
Tone & mood
The tone is cold, controlled, and profoundly unsettling. Cenci speaks with the calm of a man who has grappled with his own evil and come to terms with it — there’s no ranting, no melodrama, just a steady, almost philosophical self-satisfaction. Camillo's parts reveal real moral anguish, which makes Cenci's indifference feel even more chilling by contrast. The scene closes in a hush of implied menace instead of a loud declaration.
Symbols & metaphors
- The fief beyond the Pincian gate — The land that Cenci gives up to the Pope symbolizes the Church's involvement in his wrongdoings. It's not a punishment; it's a transaction. With each sin Cenci commits, the Church grows wealthier, highlighting Shelley's sharp criticism of how institutional religion serves as a moral facade for power.
- Beatrice's 'sweet looks' — Camillo describes Beatrice's face as something that could 'kill the fiend' within her father. Although she hasn't appeared on stage yet, she is already set up as the play's embodiment of innocence and beauty — the one thing that could save Cenci, and precisely what he is about to ruin.
- The silent air and the pavement — In his last soliloquy, Cenci speaks to the air and the floor, pleading with them to keep his intentions secret. Here, Shelley reveals a man who understands that his plan is so horrific that he can’t even utter it to himself. The lifeless surroundings become a witness he fears more than any human.
- Midnight — Cenci’s request for Beatrice to meet him “at midnight and alone” symbolizes transgression and concealed evil. Midnight represents a time beyond the usual moral boundaries, and this phrase concludes the scene with the finality of a door shutting.
- Gold — Cenci refers to gold as 'the old man's sword' — the last weapon he has left as his physical strength diminishes. In this context, gold symbolizes how wealth can replace virtue, enabling the powerful to escape consequences indefinitely.
- The dry fixed eyeball; the pale, quivering lip — Cenci's clinical portrayal of a victim's terror — the frozen eye and the trembling lip — reveals that he has examined suffering like a naturalist examines specimens. These details highlight his total dehumanisation of others: they become objects of sensation rather than fellow human beings.
Historical context
Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote *The Cenci* in 1819, drawing inspiration from the true story of Beatrice Cenci, a young Roman noblewoman executed in 1599 for killing her abusive father, Francesco Cenci. This case gained notoriety throughout Europe, and a portrait long believed to be by Guido Reni—said to portray Beatrice on the night before her execution—was one of the most recognized images in Rome during Shelley's visit. He viewed the story as a tragedy stemming from institutional failure: the Church, the law, and the family all shield the abuser while condemning the victim. Although intended for the stage, the play was rejected by Covent Garden, partly due to its sensitive subject matter. It was published in 1819 and is regarded as one of the finest verse dramas of the Romantic period, but it wasn't performed publicly in England until 1886. Shelley's critique targets not just a single evil man but the entire system—political, religious, and familial—that enables such individuals to thrive.
FAQ
A murder charge. Camillo informs him that the Pope will make the case vanish — but only if he agrees to give up a piece of Cenci's land. The specific victim isn't mentioned, which aligns with Shelley's argument: Cenci's crimes are so extensive that there's no need to pinpoint just one.
*The Cenci* is a verse drama—a play crafted entirely in blank verse, which is unrhymed iambic pentameter. This opening scene is Act I, Scene 1. It has a poetic feel due to the richness and quality of the language, though it was intended for stage performance.
He prefers to keep his victims alive to keep feeding on their fear and suffering. He refers to the body as 'a strong prison' that holds the soul under his control. This line is particularly unsettling because it reveals that his cruelty is deliberate, not just a spur-of-the-moment act.
Cenci notes that Camillo has openly taken credit for helping to reform him. If Camillo chooses to reveal the truth about Cenci's character now, he risks showing himself to be either a liar or a fool. Cenci describes this as 'strong vanity' — Camillo's reputation is at stake, which keeps him from speaking out.
The play suggests — even if this scene only hints at it — that Cenci plans to rape his daughter Beatrice. Shelley never shows the act itself; it's left to happen offstage between scenes. The midnight summons adds a chilling, ominous tone to the end of the scene.
No, but he provides Cenci with a chilling sense of coherence. Cenci isn’t just a madman—he has a consistent, albeit terrifying, philosophy. Shelley does this to heighten the play's unsettling nature and to illustrate that this type of evil isn't irrational; rather, it's supported and even rewarded by the surrounding institutions.
Shelley depicts the Church as a protection racket: it conceals wrongdoing in return for land and money, with officials (such as the Pope's nephews) personally profiting from this arrangement. Camillo is portrayed as a genuinely good man within the institution, yet he too is tainted by his desire to safeguard his own reputation.
It’s a moment filled with dramatic irony and psychological insight. Cenci, who has just openly bragged about all his crimes, suddenly finds himself unable to say what he plans to do to Beatrice. He speaks to the empty air because even he understands that this act crosses a line he can't articulate. This reveals to the audience—without stating it directly—that what’s about to happen is worse than anything we've heard so far.