The Works of Lord Byron

The impression of his former instances:
If they were from his heart, he may be thankful:
If not, 'twill punish his hypocrisy.

Come, they are met by this time; let us join them,
And be thou fix'd in purpose for this once.
I have prepared such arguments as will not
Fail to move them, and to remove him: since
Their thoughts, their objects, have been sounded,
do not

You, with your wonted scruples, teach us pause,
And all will prosper.

Bar.
Could I but be certain
This is no prelude to such persecution
Of the sire as has fallen upon the son,
I would support you.
Lor.

He is safe, I tell you;
His fourscore years and five may linger on
As long as he can drag them: 'tis his throne
Alone is aim'd at.

Sen.

Let us view them: they No doubt, are worth it. Mem.

Being worth our lives,

If we divulge them, doubtless they are worth Something, at least to you or me.

Sen.

I sought not A place within the sanctuary; but being Chosen, however reluctantly so chosen, I shall fulfil my office.

Mem.

Let us not

Be latest in obeying "The Ten's" summons.
Sen. All are not met, but I am of your though."
So far-let's in.
Mem.

The earliest are most welcome In earnest councils-we will not be least so.

[Exeunt

Enter the DOGE, JACOPO FOSCARI, and MARINA Jac. Fos. Ah, father! though I must and wil depart,

Yet-yet-I pray you to obtain for me
That I once more return unto my home,
Howe'er remote the period. Let there be
A point of time as beacon to my heart,
With any penalty annex'd they please,
But let me still return.

Doge.

Son Jacopo,

Go and obey our country's will: 'tis not For us to look beyond.

Jac. Fos.

But still I must

Look back. I pray you think of me. Doge.

Alas!

You ever were my dearest offspring, when
They were more numerous, nor can be less so
Now you are last; but did the state demand
The exile of the disinterred ashes

Of your three goodly brothers, now in earth,
And their desponding shapes came flitting round
To impede the act, I must no less obey
A duty, paramount to every duty.

Mar. My husband! let us on: this but prolongs Our sorrow.

Jac. Fos. But we are not summon'd yet; The galley's sails are not unfurl'd-who knows? The wind may change.

Mar.

And if it do, it will not Change their hearts, or your lot: the galley's oars

Will quickly clear the harbor.

Jac. Fos.

Where are your storms?

Mar.

Will nothing calm you?

Jac. Fos.

O ye elements!

In human breasts. Alas

Never yet did mariner

Put up to patron saint such prayers for prosperous
And pleasant breezes, as I call upon you,
Ye tutelar saints of my own city! which
Ye love not with more holy love than I,

To lash up from the deep the Adrian waves,
And waken Auster, sovereign of the tempest !

Both honor'd by the choice or chance which leads us Till the sea dash me back on my own shore

A broken corse upon the barren Lido,
Where I may mingle with the sands which skirt
As we hope, signor, The land I love, and never shall see more!

To mingle with a body so august.
Sen. Most true. I say no more.
Mem.
Aud 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

Mar. And wish you this with me beside you? Jac. Fos. N No-not for thee, too good, too kind! May'st thou Live long to be a mother to those children

Thy fond fidelity for a time deprives

Of such support! But for myself alone,
May all the winds of heaven howl down the Gulf,
And tear the vessel, till the mariners,
Appall'd, turn their despairing eyes on me,
As the Phenicians did on Jonah, then
Cast me out from among them, as an offering

To appease the waves. The billow which destroys me
Will be more merciful than man, and bear me,
Dead, but still bear me to a native grave,
From fisher's hands upon the desolate strand,
Which, of its thousand wrecks, hath ne'er received
One lacerated like the heart which then

Will be-But wherefore breaks it not? why live I?
Mar. 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
silence-

Imprisonment and actual torture?

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.

Mar. What hast thou done?
Jac. Fos.

Nothing. I cannot charge Inform the signory, and learn their pleasure.

My memory with much save sorrow: but
I have been so beyond the common lot
Chasten'd and visited, I needs must think
That I was wicked. If it be so, may
What I have undergone here keep me from
A like hereafter !
Mar.

Fear not: that's reserved

Mar. All! the consummate fiends! A thousand Had been so !
fold

May the worm which ne'er dieth, feed upon them!
Jac. Fos. They may repent.
Mar.

Doge.
Mar.

My unhappy children!

What!
You feel it then at last-you!-Where is now
And if they do, Heaven will not The stoic of the state?
Accept the tardy penitence of demons.

Enter an Officer and Guards.

Doge, (throwing himself down by the body.) Here.
Mar.
Ay, weep on!

I thought you had no tears-you hoarded them Offi. Signor! the boat is at the shore-the wind Until they are useless; but weep on! he never Is rising-we are ready to attend you.

Jac. Fos. And I to be attended. Once more, father, Your hand!

Doge. Take it. Alas! how thine own trembles ! Jac. Fos. No-you mistake; 'tis yours that shakes, my father.

Shall weep more-never, never more.

Enter LOREDANO and BARBARIGO.

Lor.
What's here?
Mar. Ah! the devil come to insult the dead.
Avaunt!

Incarnate Lucifer! 'tis holy ground.

A martyr's ashes now lie there, which make it
A shrine. Get thee back to thy place of torrent!
Bar. Lady, we knew not of this sad event,
But pass'd here merely on our path from council
Mar. Pass on.

It shall not be

Only repeat-I am ready.
Bar.
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 look'st on there.
If they be good, say on; you need not fear
That they can comfort me.

Bar.
I would they could.
Doge. I spoke not to you, but to Loredano.
He understands me.

Inter his son before we press upon him
This edict.

Lor. 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.

And art thou sure

Bar.

Ago to Carmagnuola.

Bar.

And foreign traitor?

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

[Exeunt DOGE, MARINA, and Attendants with "The good day or good night?" his Doge-ship the body.

Bar.

Lor.

answer'd,

Manent LOREDANO and BARBARIGO." That he in truth had pass'd a night of vigil

Be troubled now.

He must not

He said himself that nought
Could give him trouble further.
Bar.

These are words;
· But grief is lonely, and the breaking in
Upon it barbarous.

Lor.

Sorrow preys upon

Its solitude, and nothing more diverts it
From its sad visions of the other world
Than calling it at moments back to this.
The busy have no time for tears.
Bar.
And therefore
You would deprive this old man of all business?
Lor. The thing's decreed. The Giunta and "the
Ten "

Have made it law-who shall oppose that law?
Bar. Humanity.

He was the safeguard of the city.
In early life its foe, but, in his manhood,
Its savior first, then victim.
Bar.

Ah! that seems
The penalty of saving cities. He
Whom we now act against not only saved
Our own, but added others to her sway.

Lor. The Romans (and we ape them) gave a crown
To him who took a city: and they gave
A crown to him who saved a citizen
In battle: the rewards are equal. Now
If we should measure forth the cities taken
By the Doge Foscari, with citizens

The feelings Destroy'd by him, or through him, the account
Were fearfully against him, although narrow'd
To private havoc, such as between him

Of private passion may not interrupt
The public benefit; and what the state
Decides to-day must not give way before
To-morrow for a natural accident.

An historical fact.

And my dead father.
Bar.

Are you then thus fix'd?
Lor. Why, what should change me?
Bar.

An Officer. Prince! I have done your bidding.
Doge.
What command?

Off. A melancholy one-to call the attendance

That which changes me: Of-
But you, I know, are marble to retain

A feud. But when all is accomplish'd, when
The old man is deposed, his name degraded,
His sons all dead, his family depress'd,

And you and yours triumphant, shall you sleep?
Lor. More soundly.
Bar.

That's an error and you'll find it,
Ere you sleep with your fathers.
Lor.

They sleep not
In their accelerated graves, nor will
Till Foscari fills his. Each night I see them
Stalk frowning round my couch, and, pointing

towards

The ducal palace, marshal me to vengeance.

Bar. Fancy's distemperature! There is no passion
More spectral or fantastical than hate;
Not even its opposite, love, so peoples air
With phantoms, as this madness of the heart.
Enter an Officer.

Lor. Where go you, sirrah?
Offi.

To forward the preparatory rites
For the late Foscari's interment.
Bar.

Doge. True-true-true: I crave your pardon. I Begin to fail in apprehension, and

Wax very old-old almost as my years.

Till now I fought them off, but they begin
To overtake me.

Enter the Deputation, consisting of six of the
Signory, and the Chief of the Ten.

Noble men, your pleasure!

Chief of the Ten. In the first place the Council

doth condole

With the Doge on his late and private grief.
Doge. No more-no more of that.
Chief of the Ten.

Accept the homage of respect?

Will not the Duke

With a selected giunta from the senate
Of twenty-five of the best born patricians,
By the ducal order Of the republic, and the o'erwhelmning cares
Which at this moment, doubly must oppress
Your years, so long devoted to your country,
Have judged it fitting, with all reverence,
Now to solicit from your wisdom, (which

Vault has been open'd of late years.

Their

Bar. "Twill be full soon, and may be closed for ever. Upon reflection must accord in this,)

The resignation of the ducal ring

Which you have worn so long and venerably;

How bears the doge And to prove that they are not ungrateful nor
Cold to your years and services, they add
An appanage of twenty hundred golden
Ducats, to make retirement not less splendid
Than should become a sovereign's retreat.
Doge. Did I hear rightly?
Chief of the Ten.

In presence of another he says little,
But I perceive his lips move now and then;

my son!"

And once or twice I heard him, from the adjoining
Apartment, mutter forth the words—“
Scarce audibly. I must proceed.

Bar.

Will move all Venice in his favor.

Lor.

[Exit Officer.

This stroke

Right!

We must be speedy; let us call together

The delegates appointed to convey

The council's resolution.

Need I say again?

Doge. No.-Have you done?

Chief of the Ten. I have spoken. Twenty four

Hours are accorded you to give an answer.

Doge. I shall not need so many seconds.

Chief of the Ten.

Will now retire.

Doge.

Stay! Four and twenty hours

Will alter nothing which I have to say.

Chief of the Ten. Speak!

Doge.

When I twice before reiterated

Prolongs my days to prove and chasten me;

But ye have no right to reproach my length
Of days, since every hour has been the country's

I am ready to lay down my life for her,
As I have laid down dearer things than life:

Doge. To me all hours are like. Let them But for my dignity-I hold it of

approach.

[Exit Attendant The whole republic; when the general will

Is marifest, then you shall all be answer'd.
The retribution of his wrongs!-Well, well;
Chief of the Ten. We grieve for such an answer; I have sons who shall be men.
but it cannot
Doge.

Avail you aught.

Doge.

I can submit to all things,

But nothing will advance; no, not a moment.

What you decree-decree.

Your grief distracts you. Mar. I thought I could have borne it, when I saw him

Bow'd down by such oppression: yes, I thought
That I would rather look upon his corse

Chief of the Ten. With this, then, must we Than his prolong'd captivity:-I am punish'd

Return to those who sent us?

Doge.
You have heard me.
Chief of the Ten. With all due reverence we retire.
[Exeunt the Deputation, &c.

For that thought now. Would I were in his grave!
Doge. I must look on him once more.
Mar.

Come with me!

He might have lived, So form'd for gentle privacy of life, So loving, so beloved; the native of Another land, and who so blest and blessing As my poor Foscari? Nothing was wanting Unto his happiness and mine, save not To be Venetian.

Doge.

Or a prince's son.

He answer'd quickly, and must so be answer'd:
His dignity is look'd to, his estate
Cared for-what would he more?

Bar.
Die in his robes:
He could not have lived long; but I have done

Mar. Yes; all things which conduce to other My best to save his honors, and opposed
men's

Will you not now resent it?-Oh for vengeance!
But he who, had he been enough protected,
Might have repaid protection in this moment,
Cannot assist his father.

Doge.
Nor should do so
Against his country, had he a thousand lives
Instead of that-

Mar.
They tortured from him. This
May be pure patriotism. I am a woman:
To me my husband and my children were
Country and home. I loved him-how I loved him!
I have seen him pass through such an ordeal as
The old martyrs would have shrunk from: he is gone,
And I, who would have given my blood for him,
Have nought to give but tears! But could I compass

This proposition to the last, though vainly.
Why would the general vote compal me hither?

Lor. 'Twas fit that some one of such different thoughts

From ours should be a witness, lest false tongues
Should whisper that a harsh majority
Dreaded to have its acts beheld by others.

Bar. And not less, I must needs think, for the sake
Of humbling me for my vain opposition.
You are ingenious, Loredano, in
Your modes of vengeance, nay, poetical,
A very Ovid in the art of hating;
'Tis thus (although a secondary object,
Yet hate has microscopic eyes) to you
I owe, by way of foil to the more zealous,
This undesired association in
Your Giunta's duties.

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Livros

The Works of Lord Byron: Embracing His Suppressed Poems, and a Sketch of His ...