l-bred ring,
Card-table-quitters for observance' sake,
Around the argument, the rational word ...
How quality dissertated on the case."

"Tertium Quid" deals with the case very gently, mindful of his audience,
to whom, at each point of the argument calling for judgment, he politely
refers the matter, and passes on. He speaks in a tone of light and
well-bred irony, with the aristocratic contempt for the _plebs_, the
burgesses, Society's assumption of Exclusive Information. He gives the
general view of things, clearly, neutrally, with no vulgar emphasis of
black and white. "I simply take the facts, ask what they mean."

So far we have had rumour alone, the opinions of outsiders; next come
the three great monologues in which the persons of the drama, Count
Guido, Caponsacchi, and Pompilia, bear witness of themselves.

"The imaginary occasion," says Mrs. Orr, "is that of Count
Guido's trial, and all the depositions which were made on the
previous one are transferred to this. The author has been
obliged in every case to build up the character from the
evidence, and to re-mould and expand the evidence in
conformity with the character. The motive, feeling, and
circumstance set forth by each separate speaker, are thus in
some degree fictitious; but they are always founded upon
fact, and the literal fact of a vast number of details is
self-evident."[40]

These three monologues (with the second of Guido) are by far the most
important in the book.

First comes _Count Guido Franceschini_. The two monologues spoken by him
are, for sheer depth of human science, the most marvellous of all:
"every nerve of the mind is touched by the patient scalpel, every vein
and joint of the subtle and intricate spirit divided and laid bare."[41]
Under torture, he has confessed to the murder of his wife. He is now
permitted to defend himself before the judges.

"Soft-cushioned sits he; yet shifts seat, shirks touch,
As, with a twitchy brow and wincing lip,
And cheek that changes to all kinds of white,
He proffers his defence, in tones subdued
Near to mock-mildness now, so mournful seems
The obtuser sense truth fails to satisfy;
Now, moved, from pathos at the wrong endured,
To passion....
Also his tongue at times is hard to curb;
Incisive, nigh satiric bites the phrase.

* * * * *