Francesco replied: "Because she is my mistress." Monsignor Guerra turned pale at this answer, although at first he did not believe a word of it; but when he saw the smile with which Francesco Cenci accompanied his words, he was compelled to believe that, terrible though it was, the truth had been spoken.
For three days he sought an interview with Beatrice in vain; at length he succeeded in finding her.

His last hope was her denial of this horrible story: Beatrice confessed all.

Henceforth there was no human hope for the two lovers; an impassable gulf separated them.

They parted bathed in tears, promising to love one another always.
Up to that time the two women had not formed any criminal resolution, and possibly the tragical incident might never have happened, had not Frances one night returned into his daughter's room and violently forced her into the commission of fresh crime.
Henceforth the doom of Francesco was irrevocably pronounced.
As we have said, the mind of Beatrice was susceptible to the best and the worst influences: it could attain excellence, and descend to guilt.

She went and told her mother of the fresh outrage she had undergone; this roused in the heart of the other woman the sting of her own wrongs; and, stimulating each other's desire for revenge, they, decided upon the murder of Francesco.
Guerra was called in to this council of death.