And Steno's lie, couch'd in two worthless lines, Hath decimated Venice, put in peril A senate which hath stood eight hundred years, Discrown'd a prince, cut off his crownless head, And forged new fetters for a groaning people! Doge. Come! The hour may be a hard one, but 'twill end. The priest is robed, the scimitar is bare, Benint. Yes, Doge, thou hast lived and thou shalt die A sovereign; till the moment which precedes The separation of that head and trunk, That ducal crown and head shall be united. Thou hast forgot thy dignity in deigning To plot with petty traitors; not so we, Who in the very punishment acknowledge The prince. Thy vile accomplices have died The dog's death, and the wolf's; but thou shalt fall As falls the lion by the hunters, girt By those who feel a proud compassion for thee, And mourn even the inevitable death Provoked by thy wild wrath, and regal fierceness. The glory shall depart from out thy house, The wisdom shall be shaken from thy soul, And in thy best maturity of mind A madness of the heart shall seize upon thee; Passion shall tear thee when all passions cease In other men, or mellow into virtues; But prove to thee the heralds of destruction, come. Ang. And with this warning couldst thon To avert the fatal moment, and atone Doge. I own the words went to my heart, so much That I remember'd them amid the maze Of life, as if they form'd a spectral voice, Which shook me in a supernatural dreami And I repented; but 'twas not for me I could not change, and would not fear. Thou canst not have forgot what all remember, That on my day of landing here as Doge, The Bucentaur like the columnar cloud Doge. And yet I find a comfort in The thought that these things are the work of Fate; For I would rather yield to gods than men, Or cling to any creed of destiny, Rather than deem these mortals, most of whom I know to be as worthless as the dust, And weak as worthless, more than instruments Of an o'er-ruling power; they in themselves Were all incapable-they could not be Victors of him who oft had conquer'd for them! Ang. Employ the minutes left in aspirations Of a more healing nature, and in peace Even with these wretches take thy flight to Heaven. Doge. I am at peace: the peace of certainty That a sure hour will come, when their sons' sons, And this proud city, and these azure waters, And all which makes them eminent and bright, Shall be a desolation and a curse, A hissing and a scoff unto the nations, Sweeps o'er thee to the last; thou dost deceive calmer. Doge. I stand within eternity, and see Into eternity, and I behold— Ay, palpable as I see thy sweet face For the last time the days which I denounce Unto all time against these wave-girt walls, And they who are indwellers. Guard (coming forward). Doge of Venice, The Ten are in attendance on your highness. Doge. Then farewell, Angiolina! — one embrace Forgive the old man who hath been to thee A little love, or friendship, or esteem, She hath no breath, no pulse! Guards! lend your aid— I cannot leave her thus, and yet 'tis better, Since every lifeless moment spares a pang. When she shakes off this temporary death, I shall be with the Eternal.--Call her Women One look!-how cold her hand! as cold as mine Shall be ere she recovers.-Gently tend her, And take my last thanks.—I am ready now. [The Attendants of ANGIOLINA enter and surround their mistress, who has fainted.-Exeunt the Doge, Guards, etc. etc. SCENE III-The Court of the Ducal Palace: the outer gates are shut against the people. -The DoGE enters in his ducal robes, in procession with the Council of Ten and other Patricians, attended by the Guards till they arrive at the top of the "Giant's Staircase" (where the Doges took the oaths); the Executioner is stationed there with his sword. On arriving, a Chief of the Ten takes off the ducal cap from the Doge's head. Doge. So, now the Doge is nothing, and at last I am again Marino Faliero : Heaven! Benint. They shall be cared for; Even notwithstanding thine unheard-of crime. Doge. Unheard-of! ay, there's not a history But shows a thousand crown'd conspirators Against the people; but to set them free One sovereign only died, and one is dying. Benint. And who are they who fell in such a cause? Doge. The King of Sparta, and the Doge of Venice Agis and Faliero! Benint. Hast thou more To utter or to do? Doge. May I speak? Benint. Thou mayst; But recollect the people are without, Ye winds! which flutter'd o'er as if you loved it, And fill'd my swelling sails as they were wafted When thy patricians beg their bitter bread In narrow streets, and in their shameful need Make their nobility a plea for pity! Then, when the few who still retain a wreck Of their great fathers' heritage shall fawn Round a barbarian Vice of Kings' Vicegerent, Even in the palace where they sway'd as sovereigns, Even in the palace where they slew their sovereign, Proud of some name they have disgraced, or sprung From an adulteress boastful of her guilt With some large gondolier or foreign soldier, Shall bear about their bastardy in triumph To the third spurious generation ;—when Thy sons are in the lowest scale of being, Slaves turn'd o'er to the vanquish'd by the victors, Despised by cowards for greater cowardice, And scorn'd even by the vicious for such vices As in the monstrous grasp of their conception Defy all codes to image or to name them; Then, when of Cyprus, now thy subject kingdom, All thine inheritance shall be her shame Entail'd on thy less virtuous daughters, grown To many a triumph! Thou, my native earth, A wider proverb for worse prostitution; – Which I have bled for, and thou foreign | When all the ills of conquer'd states shall earth, Which drank this willing blood from many a wound! Ye stones, in which my gore will not sink, but Reek up to Heaven! Ye skies, which will receive it! Thou sun! which shinest on these things, and Thou! Who kindlest and who quenchest suns! I am not innocent – but are these guiltless? Of this proud city, and I leave my curse Shedding so much blood in her last defence 1 SCENE IV.-The Piazza and Piazzetta of First Citizen. I have gain'd the gate, and can discern the Ten, Robed in their gowns of state, ranged round the Doge. Second Citizen. I cannot reach thee with mine utmost effort. How is it? let us hear at least, since Is thus prohibited unto the people, Now-now-he kneels - and now they form a circle Round him, and all is hidden - but I see The lifted sword in air-Ah! hark! it falls! [The people murmur. Third Citizen. Then they have murder'd him who would have freed us. Fourth Citizen. He was a kind man to the commons ever. Fifth Citizen. Wisely they did to keep their portals barr'd. Would we had known the work they were preparing Ere we were summon'd here; we would have brought First Citizen. One has approached the Weapons, and forced them! Doge, and now they strip The ducal bonnet from his head-and now Twas but a murmur- Curse upon the distance! Sixth Citizen. Are you sure he's dead? First Citizen. I saw the sword fall-Lo! what have we here? Enter on the Balcony of the Palace which fronts Saint Mark's Place a CHIEF OF THE TEN, with a bloody sword. He waves it thrice before the People, and exclaims, “Justice hath dealt upon the mighty Traitor!" [The gates are opened; the populace The gory head rolls down the "Giant's CAIN, A MYSTERY. "Now the Serpent was more subtil than any beast of the field TO SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART. 19 INSCRIBED, BY HIS OBLIGED FRIEND, AND THE AUTHOR. taken the same liberties with his subject which were common formerly, as may be seen by any reader curious enough to refer to those very profane productions, whether in English, French, Italian, or Spanish. The author has endeavoured to preserve the language adapted to his characters; and where it is (and this is but rarely) taken from actual Scripture, he has made as little alteration, even of words, as the rhythm would permit. The reader will recollect are entitled "a that the book of Genesis does not state that PREFACE. The following scenes Mystery," in conformity with the ancient title annexed to dramas upon similar subjects, which were styled Mysteries, or Moralities. The author has by no means Eve was tempted by a demon, but by "the Serpent;" and that only because he was "the most subtil of all the beasts of the field." Whatever interpretation the Rabbins |