Doge. Daughter, it is superfluous; I have | Slaves, exiles—what you will; or if they are Females with portions, brides and bribes long Known Loredano. Lored. You may know him better. Marina. Yes; worse he could not. J. Foscari. Father, let not these Our parting hours be lost in listening to Reproaches, which boot nothing. Is it—is it, Indeed, our last of meetings? Doge. You behold These white hairs! J. Foscari. And I feel, besides, that mine Will never be so white. Embrace me, father! I loved you ever-never more than now. Look to my children--to your last child's children: Let them be all to you which he was once, Marina. No-not here. J. Foscari. They might behold their parent any where. Marina. I would that they beheld their father in A place which would not mingle fear with love, To freeze their young blood in its natural current. They have fed well, slept soft, and knew not that Their sire was a mere hunted outlaw. Well I know his fate may one day be their heritage, But let it only be their heritage, And not their present fee. Their senses, though Alive to love, are yet awake to terror; And these vile damps, too, and yon thick green wave Which floats above the place where we now stand A cell so far below the water's level, Sending its pestilence through every crevice, Might strike them: this is not their atmosphere, However you - and you – and, most of all, As worthiest you, sir, noble Loredano! May breathe it without prejudice. J. Foscari. I had not Reflected upon this, but acquiesce. I shall depart, then, without meeting them? Doge. Not so: they shall await you in my chamber. J. Foscari. And must I leave them all? Lored. You must. J. Foscari. Not one? Lored. They are the state's. for nobles! Behold the state's care for its sons and mothers! Lored. The hour approaches, and the wind is fair. J. Foscari. How know you that here, where the genial wind Ne'er blows in all its blustering freedom? Lored. 'Twas so When I came here. The galley floats within A bow-shot of the Riva di Schiavoni. J. Foscari. Father! I pray you to precede me, and Prepare my children to behold their father. Doge. Be firm, my son! J. Foscari. I will do my endeavour. And him to whose good offices you owe Doge. He speaks truth. J. Foscari. No doubt: but 'tis Exchange of chains for heavier chains I owe him. He knows this, or he had not sought to Lored. The time narrows, signor. To leave abodes like this: but when I feel Marina. Let them flow on: he wept not on the rack To shame him, and they cannot shame him Must youth support itself on age, and I Who ought to be the prop of yours? Lored. Take mine. In all things painful. If they're sick, they will Marina. Touch it not, Foscari; 'twill tors, are plunged, Barb. Tis hard upon his years. Kind to relieve him from the cares of state. He has seen his son's half broken, and, except (Like Barbarossa to the Pope) to beg him Barb. But will the laws uphold us? I will be legislator in this business. Barb. But he has twice already Lored. The better reason Lored. It shows The impression of his former instances: If not, 'twill punish his hypocrisy. never; join them, And be thou fix'd in purpose for this once. You, with your wonted scruples, teach us And all will prosper. Barb. Could I but be certain Lored. Forthwith-when this long leave of the sire as has fallen upon the son, is taken. "Tis I would support you. Lored. He is safe, I tell you; His fourscore years and five may linger on Barb. But discarded princes Lored. And men of eighty Barb. And why not wait these few years' ? Lived longer than enough. Hence! In to council! [Exeunt Loredano and Barbarigo. Enter MEMMO and a Senator. Alone can answer: they are rarely wont Senator. For them, but not for us; Memmo. You will know why anon, Thus hesitate?-The Ten have call'd in aid To mingle with a body so august. Senator. Most true. I say no more. Memmo. As we hope, signor, And all may honestly (that is, all those Of noble blood may) one day hope to be Decemvir, it is surely for the senate's Chosen delegates a school of wisdom, to Be thus admitted, though as novices, To view the mysteries. Senator. Let us view them: they, No doubt, are worth it. Memmo. Being worth our lives If we divulge them,doubtless they are worth Something, at least to you or me. Senator. I sought not A place within the sanctuary; but being Memmo. Let us not Go and obey our country's will: 'tis not J. Foscari. But still I must You ever were my dearest offspring, when And their desponding shades came flitting round To impede the act, I must no less obey One lacerated like the heart which then Will be-But wherefore breaks it not? why live I? Marina. To man thyself, I trust, with time, to master Such useless passion. Until now thou wert A sufferer, but not a loud one: why, What is this to the things thou hast borne in silenceImprisonment and actual torture? J. Foscari. Double, Triple,and tenfold torture! But you are right. It must be borne. Father, your blessing. Doge. Would It could avail thee! but no less thou hast it J. Foscari. Forgive— Doge. What? J. Foscari. My poor mother for my birth, And me for having lived, and you yourself (As I forgive you) for the gift of life, =Which you bestow'd upon me as my sire. Marina. What hast thou done? J. Foscari. Nothing. I cannot charge Marina. Fear not: that 's reserved J. Foscari. Let me hope not. J. Foscari. I cannot wish them all they Marina. All! the consummate fiends! A thousand fold! Thus leave me. Doge. Daughter! Marina. Hold thy peace, old man! Officer. We must remove the body. Ends with his life, and goes not beyond murder, Even by your murderous laws. Leave his To those who know to honour them. Inform the signory, and learn their pleasure. May the worm which ne'er dieth feed upon They have no further power upon those them! Lend me your arm, good signor. Officer. You turn pale ashes: You feel it then at last― you!— Where is now Doge (throwing himself down by the body). Let me support you-paler - ho! some aid I thought you had no tears—you hoarded there! Some water! Marina. Ah, he is dying! J. Foscari. Now, I'm ready My eyes swim strangely-where's the door? Let me support him-my best love! Oh, God! Is it the light? I am faint. them Until they are useless ; but weep on ! he never Enter LOREDANO and BARBARIGO Marina. Ah! the devil, come to insult Incarnate Lucifer! 'tis holy ground. [Officer presents him with water. A shrine. Get thee back to thy place of Officer. He will be better, Perhaps, in the air. torment! Barb. Lady, we knew not of this sad event, pass'd here merely on our path from council. J. Foscari. I doubt not. Father-wife-But Your hands! Marina. There's death in that damp Marina. Pass on. Lored. We sought the Doge. Marina (pointing to the Doge, who is still on the ground by his son's body). He's busy, look, About the business you provided for him. Are ye content? Barb. We will not interrupt A parent's sorrows. Marina No, ye only make them, Then leave them. Doge (rising). Sirs, I am ready. Barb. No- not now. Lored. Yet 'twas important. Doge. If 'twas so, I can Only repeat-1 am ready. Barb. It shall not be Just now,though Venice totter'd o'er the deep Like a frail vessel. I respect your griefs. Doge. I thank you. If the tidings which you bring Are evil, you may say them; nothing further Can touch me more than him thou lookst on there: If they be good, say on; you need not fear That they can comfort me. Barb. I would they could! Doge. I spoke not to you, but to Loredano. He understands me. Marina. Ah! I thought it would be so. Doge. What mean you? Marina. Lo! there is the blood beginning To flow through the dead lips of FoscariThe body bleeds in presence of the assassin. [To Loredano. Thou cowardly murderer by law, behold How death itself bears witness to thy deeds! Doge. My child! this is a phantasy of grief. Bear hence the body. [To his Attendants.] [Exeunt Doge, Marina, and Attendants [Manent Loredano and Barbarigo. Barb. He must not Inter his son before we press upon him This edict. Lored. Let him call up into life My sire and uncle-I consent. Men may, Even aged men, be, or appear to be, Sires of a hundred sons, but cannot kindle An atom of their ancestors from earth. The victims are not equal: he has seen His sons expire by natural deaths, and I My sires by violent and mysterious maladies. I used no poison, bribed no subtle master Of the destructive art of healing, to Shorten the path to the eternal cure. His sons, and he had four, are dead, without My dabbling in vile drugs. Barb. And art thou sure Lored. Most sure. Lored. And so he seem'd not long Barb. The attainted And foreign traitor? Lored. Even so: when he, After the very night in which the Ten (Join'd with the Doge) decided his destruction, Met the great Duke at daybreak with a jest, Demanding whether he should augur him "The good day or good night?" his Dogeship answer'd, "That he in truth had pass'd a night of vigil, In which (he added with a gracious smile) There often has been question about you." Twas true; the question was the death resolved Of Carmagnuola, eight months ere he died; And the old Doge, who knew him doom'd, smiled on him With deadly cozenage, eight long months beforehand |