Mem. I marvel they condemn him not at once.
Sen. That's not their policy; they'd have him live,
Because he fears not death; and banish him,
Because all earth, except his native land,
To him is one wide prison, and each breath
of foreign air he draws seems a slow poison,
Consuming but not killing.
Even with the crown of glory in his eye,
At such inhuman artifice of pain
As was forced on him; but he did not cry
For pity; not a word nor groan escaped him,
And those two shrieks were not in supplication,
But wrung from pangs, and follow'd by no prayers
Lor. He mutter'd many times between his teeth
But inarticulately.
Bar.
That I heard not,
Mem.
Confirms his crimes, but he avows them not.
Sen. None, save the letter, which he says was You stood more near him.
written
Address'd to Milan's duke, in the full knowledge
That it would fall into the senate's hands,
And thus he should be reconveyed to Venice.
Mem. But as a culprit.
Sen.
Yes, but to his country;
And that was all he sought, so he avouches.
Mem. The accusation of the bribes was proved.
Sen. Not clearly, and the charge of homicide
Has been annull'd by the death-bed confession
Of Nicolas Erizzo, who slew the late
Chief of "the Ten."
To my surprise too, you were touch'd with mercy,
And were the first to call out for assistance
When he was failing.
Bar. And have I not oft heard thee name
His and his father's death your nearest wish?
Lor. If he dies innocent, that is to say,
With his guilt unavow'd, he'll be lamented.
Bar. What, wouldst thou slay his memory?
Lor.
Wouldst thou have
His state descend to his children, as it must,
If he die unattainted?
He's silent in his hate, as Foscari
Was in his suffering; and the poor wretch moved me
and More by his silence than a thousand outcries
Could have affected. 'Twas a dreadful sight
When his distracted wife broke through into
The hall of our tribunal, and beheld
What we could scarcely look upon, long used
That's not the cause; you saw the prisoner's state. To such sights. I must think no more of this Lor. And had he not recover'd?
Bar. "Tis vain to murmur; the majority In council were against you.
Lest I forget in this compassion for
Our foes their former injuries, and lose
The hold of vengeance Loredano plans
For him and me; but mine would be content
With lesser retribution than he thirsts for,
And I would mitigate his deeper hatred
Thanks to you, sir, To milder thoughts; but for the present, Foscari
Sen. (dipping the pen into the ink, and placing the Command my time, when not commanded by
paper before the DOGE.) Your hand, too, The state.
shakes, my lord: allow me, thus-
Doge. 'Tis done, I thank you.
Sen.
Thus the act confirm'd
By you and by the "Ten," gives peace to Venice.
Doge. 'Tis long since she enjoy'd it may it be
As long ere she resume her arms!
Sen.
Thirty-four years of nearly ceaseless warfare
With the Turk, or the powers of Italy;
The state had need of some repose.
Doge.
I found her queen of ocean, and I leave her
Lady of Lombardy; it is a comfort
That I have added to her diadem
The gems of Breccia and Ravenna; Crema
And Bergamo no less are hers; her realm
By land has grown by thus much in my reign,
While her sea-sway has not shrunk.
I have none from you, my child.
Mar. I wish'd to speak to you of him.
Doge. Your husband?
Doge. Proceed, my daughter!
Mar. I had obtain'd permission from the "Ten"
To attend my husband for a limited number
Mar. "The Ten."-When we had reach'd "the
Bridge of Sighs,"
Which I prepared to pass with Foscari,
The gloomy guardian of that passage first
Demurr'd: a messenger was sent back to
"The Ten;" but as the court no longer sate,
And no permission had been given in writing,
I was thrust back, with the assurance that
'Tis most true, Until that high tribunal had reassembled,
The dungeon walls would still divide us.
Doge.
And merits all our country's gratitude.
Doge. Perhaps so.
Sen.
True, Which should be made manifest. The form has been omitted in the haste Doge. I have not complain'd, sir. With which the court adjourn'd, and till it meets Sen. My good lord, forgive me. 'Tis dubious.
Mar. Till it meets! and when it meets,
They'll torture him again; and he and I
Must purchase by renewal of the rack
The interview of husband and of wife,
The holiest tie beneath the heavens !-Oh God!
It must have way, my lord. Dost thou see this? I have too many duties towards you Doge. And all your house, for past and present kindness, Mar. (abruptly.) Call me not "child!' Not to feel deeply for your son. You soon will have no children-you deserve none→→→ You, who can talk thus calmly of a son
I cannot weep-I would I could; but if
Each white hair on this head were a young life,
This ducal cap the diadem of earth,
This ducal ring with which I wed the waves
A talisman to still them-I'd give all
For him.
Mar. With less he surely might be saved.
Doge. That answer only shows you know not
Venice.
Alas! how should you? she knows not herself,
In all her mystery. Hear me-they who aim
At Foscari, aim no less at his father;
The sire's destruction would not save the son;
They work by different means to the same end,
And that is-but they have not conquer'd yet.
Mar. But they have crush'd.
Doge.
Nor crush'd as yet-I live.
His Candiote exile, I had hopeshe has quench'd To mingle with my name: that name shall be,
I have said it. Mar. And can I not go with him? Doge.
This prayer of yours was twice denied before
By the assembled "Ten," and hardly now
Will be accorded to a third request,
Since aggravated errors on the part
Of your lord renders them still more austere.
Mar. Austere ? Atrocious! The old human fiends,
With one foot in the grave, with dim eyes, strange
To tears save drops of dotage, with long white
And scanty hairs, and shaking hands, and heads
As palsied as their hearts are hard, they council,
Cabal, and put men's lives out, as if life
Were no more than the feelings long extinguish'd
In their accursed bosoms.
As far as I have borne it, what it was When I received it.
But for the poor children
Of him thou canst not, or thou wilt not save,
You were the last to bear it.
Doge.
Would it were so.
Better for him he never had been born,
Better for me.-I have seen our house dishonor'd.
Mar. That's false! a truer, nobler, trustier heart,
More loving, or more loyal, never beat
Within a human breast. I would not change
My exiled, persecuted, mangled husband,
Oppress'd but not disgraced, crush'd, overwhelm'd,
Alive, or dead, for prince or paladin
In story or in fable, with a world
To back his suit. Dishonor'd!-he dishonor'd!
I tell thee, Doge, 'tis Venice is dishonor'd;
His name shall be her foulest, worst reproach,
For what he suffers, not for what he did.
'Tis ye who are all traitors, tyrant!-ye!
Doge. Mar. I do-I do-and so should you, methinks-Did you but love your country like this victim That these are demons: could it be else that Who totters back in chains to tortures, and
Men, who have been of women born and suckled-Submits to all things rather than to exile, Who have loved, or talk'd at least of love-have You'd fling yourselves before him, and implore His grace for your enormous guilt.
No more than woman's tears, that they should shake But I have other duties than a father's; you.
The state would not dispense me from those duties; Doge. Woman, this clamorous grief of thine, I tell Twice I demanded it, but was refused:
Is no more in the balance weigh'd with that
Which- -but I pity thee, my poor Marina!
Mar. Pity my husband, or I cast it from me;
Pity thy son! Thou pity!-'tis a word
Strange to thy heart-how came it on thy lips?
Doge. I must bear these reproaches, though they
Mar. 'Tis not upon thy brow, Nor in thine eyes, nor in thine acts,-where then Should I behold this sympathy! or shall? Doge, (pointing downwards.) There!
They must then be fulfill'd.
To which I am tending: when 'Have chosen well their envoy.
Am, or at least was, more than a mere duke,
It does their wisdom honor, In blood, in mind, în means; and that they know
And no less to their courtesy.-Proceed.
Lor. We have decided.
"The Ten" in council. Doge. What! have they met again, and met without Apprising me? Lor.
Who dreaded to elect me, and have since
Striven all they dare to weigh me down: be sure,
Before or since that period, had I held you
At so much price as to require your absence,
A word of mine had set such spirits to work
As would nave made you nothing. But in all things,
I have observed the strictest reverence;
They wish'd to spare your feelings, Not for the laws alone, for those you have strain'd
(I do not speak of you but as a single
That's new-when spared they either? Voice of the many) somewhat beyond what
I thank them, notwithstanding.
Lor.
That they have power to act at their discretion,
With or without the presence of the Doge.
I could enforce for my authority,
Were I disposed to brawl; but, as I said,
I have observed with veneration, like
A priest's for the high altar, even unto
Doge. 'Tis some years since I learn'd this, long The sacrifice of my own blood and quiet, before
I became Doge, or dream'd of such advancement.
You need not school me, signor: I sate in
That council when you were a young patrician.
Lor. True, in my father's time; I have heard
him and
The admiral, his brother, say as much.
Your highness may remember them; they both
Died suddenly.
And if they did so, better
So die than live on lingeringly in pain.
Safety, and all save honor, the decrees,
The health, the pride, and welfare of the state.
And now, sir, to your business.
Lor.
'Tis decreed,
That, without further repetition of
The Question, or continuance of the trial,
Which only tends to show how stubborn guilt is,
("The Ten," dispensing with the stricter law
Which still prescribes the Question till a full
Confession, and the prisoner partly having
Avow'd his crime in not denying that
Lor. No doubt; yet most men like to live their The letter to the Duke of Milan's his,)
days out.
James Foscari return to banishment,
And sail in the same galley which convey'd him.
Mar. Thank God! At least they will not dag
Before that horrible tribunal. Would he
But think so, to my mind the happiest doom,
Lor. So far from strange, that never was there Not he alone, but all who dwell here, could death
It galls you :-well, you are his equal, as
You think; but that you are not, nor would be,
Were he a peasant:-well, then, you're a prince,
A princely noble; and what then am I?
Lor. The offspring of a noble house.
To one as noble. What or whose, then is
The presence that should silence my free thoughts?
Lor. The presence of your husband's judges.
Doge.
And wedded And false, and hollow-clay from first to last,
The prince's urn no less than potter's vessel.
Our fame is in men's breath, our lives upon
Less than their breath; our durance upon days,
Our days on seasons; our whole being on
Something which is not us!-So, we are slaves.
The greatest as the meanest-nothing rests
Upon our will; the will itself no less
Depends upon a straw than on a storm;
And when we think we lead, we are most led,
And still towards death, a thing which comes as
much
The deference due even to the lightest word
That falls from those who rule in Venice.
Mar.
Those maxims for your mass of scared mechanics,
Your merchants, your Dalmatian and Greek slaves,
Your tributaries, your dumb citizens,
And mask'd nobility, your sbirri, and
Your spies, your galley and your other slaves,
To whom your midnight carryings off and drownings,
Your dungeons next the palace roofs, or under
The water's level; your mysterious meetings,
And unknown dooms, and sudden executions,
Your "Bridge of Sighs," your strangling chamber,
and
Your torturing instruments, have made ye seem
The beings of another and worse world!
Keep such for them: I fear ye not. I know ye;
Have known and proved your worst, in the infernal
Process of my poor husband! Treat me as
Ye treated him :-you did so, in so dealing
With him. Then what have I to fear from you,
Even if I were of fearful nature, which
I trust I am not?
Doge.
You hear, she speaks wildly.
Mar. Not wisely, yet not wildly.
Lor.
Lady! words
Utter'd within these walls I bear no further
Than to the threshold, saving such as pass
Between the Duke and me on the state's service.
Doge! have you aught in answer?
Doge.
Without our act or choice as birth, so that Methinks we must have sinn'd in some old world, And this is hell: the best is, that it is not Eternal.
Mar. These are things we cannot judge On earth.
Doge. And how then shall we judge each other,
Who are all earth, and I, who am call'd upon
To judge my son? I have administer'd
My country faithfully-victoriously-
I dare them to the proof, the chart of what
She was and is: my reign has doubled realms ;
And, in reward, the gratitude of Venice
Has left, or is about to leave, me single.
Mar. And Foscari? I do not think of such things,
So I be left with him.
Doge.
You shall be so:
Thus much they cannot well deny.
Mar.
They should, I will fly with him.
Doge.
And whither would you fly?
Mar.
Something from To Syria, Egypt, to the Ottoman-
Any where, where we might respire unfetter'd,
And live nor girt by spies, nor liable
The Doge; it may be also from a parent. Lor. My mission here is to the Doge. Doge.
The Doge will choose his own ambassador, Or state in person what is meet; and for The father
Doge. I am what you behold.
And that's a mystery. Doge. All things are so to mortals; who can read them
Save he who made; or, if they can, the few
And gifted spirits, who have studied long
That loathsome volume-man, and pored upon
Those black and bloody leaves, his heart and brain,
But learn a magic which recoils upon
The adept who pursues it: all the sins
We find in others, nature made our own;
All our advantages are those of fortune;
Birth, wealth, health, beauty, are her accidents,
And when we cry out against Fate, 'twere well
We should remember Fortune can take nought
Save what she gave-the rest was nakedness,
And lusts, and appetites, and vanities,
The universal heritage, to battle
With as we may, and least in humblest stations,
Where hunger swallows all in one low want,
And the original ordinance, that man
To edicts of inquisitors of state.
Doge. What, wouldst thou have a renegade for husband,
And turn him into traitor?
Mar. The country is the traitress, which thrusts forth Her best and bravest from her. Tyranny Is far the worst of treasons. Dost thou deem None rebels except subjects? The prince who Neglects or violates his trust is more A brigand than the robber-chief. Doge.
I cannot Charge me with such a breach of faith. Mar. No; thou Observ'st, obey'st, such laws as make old Draco's A code of mercy by comparison.
Doge. I found the law; I did not make it. Were I A subject, still I might find parts and portions Fit for amendment; but as prince, I never Would change, for the sake of my house, the charter Left by our fathers.
Under such laws, Venice
Has risen to what she is a state to rival
In deeds, and days, and sway, and, let me add,
In glory, (for we have had Roman spirits
Among us,) all that history has bequeathed
Of Rome and Carthage in their best times, when
Must sweat for his poor pittance, keeps all passions The people sway'd by senates.
Aloof, save fear of famine! All is low,
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