ENTER ORSINO AND GIACOMO. by Percy Bysshe Shelley: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
This is a tense moment from Shelley's verse play *The Cenci* (1819), where two men — Giacomo and Orsino — face off after being involved in the murder of the oppressive Count Cenci.
The poem
GIACOMO: Do evil deeds thus quickly come to end? O, that the vain remorse which must chastise Crimes done, had but as loud a voice to warn As its keen sting is mortal to avenge! O, that the hour when present had cast off _5 The mantle of its mystery, and shown The ghastly form with which it now returns When its scared game is roused, cheering the hounds Of conscience to their prey! Alas! Alas! It was a wicked thought, a piteous deed, _10 To kill an old and hoary-headed father. ORSINO: It has turned out unluckily, in truth. GIACOMO: To violate the sacred doors of sleep; To cheat kind Nature of the placid death Which she prepares for overwearied age; _15 To drag from Heaven an unrepentant soul Which might have quenched in reconciling prayers A life of burning crimes... ORSINO: You cannot say I urged you to the deed. GIACOMO: O, had I never Found in thy smooth and ready countenance _20 The mirror of my darkest thoughts; hadst thou Never with hints and questions made me look Upon the monster of my thought, until It grew familiar to desire... ORSINO: ’Tis thus Men cast the blame of their unprosperous acts _25 Upon the abettors of their own resolve; Or anything but their weak, guilty selves. And yet, confess the truth, it is the peril In which you stand that gives you this pale sickness Of penitence; confess ’tis fear disguised _30 From its own shame that takes the mantle now Of thin remorse. What if we yet were safe? GIACOMO: How can that be? Already Beatrice, Lucretia and the murderer are in prison. I doubt not officers are, whilst we speak, _35 Sent to arrest us. ORSINO: I have all prepared For instant flight. We can escape even now, So we take fleet occasion by the hair. GIACOMO: Rather expire in tortures, as I may. What! will you cast by self-accusing flight _40 Assured conviction upon Beatrice? She, who alone in this unnatural work, Stands like God’s angel ministered upon By fiends; avenging such a nameless wrong As turns black parricide to piety; _45 Whilst we for basest ends...I fear, Orsino, While I consider all your words and looks, Comparing them with your proposal now, That you must be a villain. For what end Could you engage in such a perilous crime, _50 Training me on with hints, and signs, and smiles, Even to this gulf? Thou art no liar? No, Thou art a lie! Traitor and murderer! Coward and slave! But no, defend thyself; [DRAWING.] Let the sword speak what the indignant tongue _55 Disdains to brand thee with. ORSINO: Put up your weapon. Is it the desperation of your fear Makes you thus rash and sudden with a friend, Now ruined for your sake? If honest anger Have moved you, know, that what I just proposed _60 Was but to try you. As for me, I think, Thankless affection led me to this point, From which, if my firm temper could repent, I cannot now recede. Even whilst we speak The ministers of justice wait below: _65 They grant me these brief moments. Now if you Have any word of melancholy comfort To speak to your pale wife, ’twere best to pass Out at the postern, and avoid them so. NOTE: _58 a friend edition 1821; your friend edition 1839. GIACOMO: O, generous friend! How canst thou pardon me? _70 Would that my life could purchase thine! ORSINO: That wish Now comes a day too late. Haste; fare thee well! Hear’st thou not steps along the corridor? [EXIT GIACOMO.] I’m sorry for it; but the guards are waiting At his own gate, and such was my contrivance _75 That I might rid me both of him and them. I thought to act a solemn comedy Upon the painted scene of this new world, And to attain my own peculiar ends By some such plot of mingled good and ill _80 As others weave; but there arose a Power Which grasped and snapped the threads of my device And turned it to a net of ruin...Ha! [A SHOUT IS HEARD.] Is that my name I hear proclaimed abroad? But I will pass, wrapped in a vile disguise; _85 Rags on my back, and a false innocence Upon my face, through the misdeeming crowd Which judges by what seems. ’Tis easy then For a new name and for a country new, And a new life, fashioned on old desires, _90 To change the honours of abandoned Rome. And these must be the masks of that within, Which must remain unaltered...Oh, I fear That what is past will never let me rest! Why, when none else is conscious, but myself, _95 Of my misdeeds, should my own heart’s contempt Trouble me? Have I not the power to fly My own reproaches? Shall I be the slave Of...what? A word? which those of this false world Employ against each other, not themselves; _100 As men wear daggers not for self-offence. But if I am mistaken, where shall I Find the disguise to hide me from myself, As now I skulk from every other eye? [EXIT.] SCENE 5.2:
This is a tense moment from Shelley's verse play *The Cenci* (1819), where two men — Giacomo and Orsino — face off after being involved in the murder of the oppressive Count Cenci. Giacomo is overwhelmed by guilt and dread over his actions, while Orsino, more calculating and detached, is busy plotting his escape. Ultimately, Orsino deceives Giacomo into walking directly into the hands of the waiting guards, leaving him alone to grapple with a nagging conscience he can't fully quiet.
Line-by-line
GIACOMO: Do evil deeds thus quickly come to end? / O, that the vain remorse which must chastise
O, that the hour when present had cast off / The mantle of its mystery
It was a wicked thought, a piteous deed, / To kill an old and hoary-headed father.
ORSINO: It has turned out unluckily, in truth.
To violate the sacred doors of sleep; / To cheat kind Nature of the placid death
ORSINO: You cannot say / I urged you to the deed.
O, had I never / Found in thy smooth and ready countenance / The mirror of my darkest thoughts
ORSINO: 'Tis thus / Men cast the blame of their unprosperous acts / Upon the abettors of their own resolve
GIACOMO: How can that be? Already Beatrice, / Lucretia and the murderer are in prison.
ORSINO: I have all prepared / For instant flight. We can escape even now
GIACOMO: Rather expire in tortures, as I may. / What! will you cast by self-accusing flight / Assured conviction upon Beatrice?
ORSINO: Put up your weapon. / Is it the desperation of your fear / Makes you thus rash and sudden with a friend
GIACOMO: O, generous friend! How canst thou pardon me? / Would that my life could purchase thine!
ORSINO: I'm sorry for it; but the guards are waiting / At his own gate, and such was my contrivance
I thought to act a solemn comedy / Upon the painted scene of this new world
But I will pass, wrapped in a vile disguise; / Rags on my back, and a false innocence / Upon my face
And a new life, fashioned on old desires, / To change the honours of abandoned Rome.
Oh, I fear / That what is past will never let me rest!
But if I am mistaken, where shall I / Find the disguise to hide me from myself
Tone & mood
The tone shifts significantly between the two speakers and throughout the scene's three movements. Giacomo expresses deep, almost operatic guilt, delivering long, vivid, and emotionally intense lines. In contrast, Orsino maintains a cool, ironic, and lawyerly tone until he finds himself alone, where a quieter sense of dread begins to emerge. Overall, the scene transitions from despair to confrontation and ultimately to a bitter, self-aware solitude. Shelley uses elevated language that avoids becoming overly decorative; each image (the hounds of conscience, the painted scene, the disguise that can’t hide a man from himself) contributes meaningfully to the psychological depth.
Symbols & metaphors
- The mantle / disguise — Disguise shows up in various ways throughout the scene: the "mantle of mystery" that cloaks the present moment, the "thin remorse" Orsino claims hides Giacomo's fear, and the actual rags and "false innocence" that Orsino intends to wear while escaping. Shelley employs this motif to explore whether any identity — guilt, innocence, or selfhood — is merely a costume we don.
- The mirror — Giacomo refers to Orsino's face as "the mirror of my darkest thoughts." This mirror isn’t just reflecting; it actively shapes perceptions — Orsino revealed Giacomo's own worst impulses until they felt familiar and even appealing. It perfectly illustrates how negative influence operates: not by adding new malevolence, but by making the existing darkness feel normal.
- The hounds of conscience — Giacomo envisions conscience as a hunting pack, stirred by the "frightened prey" of a guilty soul. This portrayal makes guilt feel tangible and unyielding — it's not just an emotion you can rationalize but a pursuit you can't evade. Orsino's final lines confirm this idea: even he, who brushes off conscience as mere terminology, cannot evade the chase.
- The net / threads — Orsino likens his plan to threads he was weaving, only for a greater Power to snap them and transform everything into "a net of ruin." This image highlights the plotter's arrogance: he believed he was the weaver, but ultimately, he found himself ensnared in his own creation. It also reflects classical imagery of fate as an uncontrollable web for mortals.
- The painted scene — When Orsino describes his attempt to perform a "solemn comedy upon the painted scene of this new world," it shows how disconnected he is from reality. A painted scene is just a backdrop—artificial, two-dimensional, and ornamental. He erred by viewing real people and tangible outcomes as mere theatrical props. The world wouldn't remain a painted illusion.
- Beatrice as God's angel — Giacomo portrays Beatrice as standing "like God's angel ministered upon by fiends" — a symbol of pure moral purpose amidst corrupt men, including him. This depiction lifts her above the crime she committed and presents her act of parricide as more akin to divine justice than murder. It encapsulates the play's central moral paradox in a single striking simile.
Historical context
Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote *The Cenci* in 1819, inspired by the real-life story of Beatrice Cenci, a young Roman noblewoman executed in 1599 for killing her father, Francesco Cenci, who had abused her for years. Shelley was captivated by the case because it raised a profound moral dilemma: can murder be justified if it's the only way to escape ongoing tyranny? He crafted the play in Italy during one of his most prolific periods, alongside *Prometheus Unbound*. Although he aimed for it to be performed on stage, Covent Garden rejected it, partly due to its controversial themes. This scene takes place near the end of the play, after the murder has been uncovered. Orsino, a priest, exploited the Cenci children’s desperation, and in this moment, he is unmasked — both by Giacomo and, more painfully, by himself.
FAQ
This excerpt is from *The Cenci* (1819) by Percy Bysshe Shelley. The play tells the real-life story of Beatrice Cenci, a young Italian noblewoman who plotted to kill her abusive father, Count Francesco Cenci, in 1599. After being tried for the crime, she was executed. Through this narrative, Shelley examines the question of whether violence can be morally justified when it serves as the sole escape from ongoing cruelty.
Giacomo is one of Beatrice's brothers who played a role in planning their father's murder. Orsino, a priest, was in love with Beatrice and used that relationship to influence and manipulate the Cenci siblings as they acted out of desperation, all while maintaining a facade of innocence. By this scene, the murder has been uncovered, and the authorities are tightening their grip.
Orsino believes that Giacomo isn't truly remorseful about killing his father; rather, he's worried about the consequences of his actions. Orsino acknowledges that Giacomo feels guilt, but he argues that it's rooted in a desire to protect himself rather than a sense of right and wrong. This perspective is somewhat cynical and aims to unsettle Giacomo. However, Shelley allows for ambiguity: the distinction between these emotions is complex, and Orsino's final soliloquy hints that he understands this complexity on a personal level.
It’s one of Shelley's most cutting remarks. When you call someone a liar, you're saying they tell lies. But calling someone *a lie* implies that their whole being — their face, their friendship, their seeming concern — is a deception. Giacomo isn’t just claiming Orsino deceives; he’s saying Orsino *is* deception itself, entirely. This distinction hits harder than any insult could.
Yes, and it catches him off guard. His closing soliloquy reveals a man wrestling with a conscience he believed was absent. He wonders why his heart feels so heavy when no one else is aware of his actions — yet he can't find an answer. The last image, of needing a disguise to evade his own reflection, illustrates that he is aware of his wrongdoings but lacks the control to change. He isn't redeemed, but he's not completely empty either.
Orsino intends to leave Rome, adopt a new identity, and begin anew. Yet, he confesses, almost immediately, that this fresh start will be grounded in the same desires and impulses that shaped his previous life. Shelley emphasizes that character isn't tied to a location — you can't run away from who you are simply by relocating. This admission represents Orsino's most genuine moment, and he scarcely lingers on it before continuing.
Because running away would look like admitting guilt, and that guilt would impact Beatrice just as much as him. Giacomo now views Beatrice as morally innocent — someone who had to act against a terrible injustice — and he won't escape at her expense. This is the most genuinely noble action he takes in the scene, making Orsino's betrayal of him feel even more brutal.
No. Shelley submitted it to Covent Garden in 1819, but it was turned down. The themes — parricide, suggested incestuous abuse, and a priest as the villain — were deemed inappropriate for the stage. It didn't see a public performance until 1886, over sixty years after Shelley's death. Even though it was intended for the stage, it mainly circulated as a closet drama during the 19th century, a play meant for reading rather than acting out.