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Barb. Yet pause the number of our colleagues is not

Complete yet; two are wanting ere we can

Proceed.

Lored. And the chief judge, the Doge?
Barb. No-he

With more than Roman fortitude is ever
First at the board in this unhappy process
Against his last and only son.
Lored. True-true-
His last.

Barb. Will nothing move you?
Lored. Feels he, think you?

Barb. He shows is not.

Lored. I have mark'd that-the wretch! Barb. But yesterday, I hear, on his return To the ducal chambers, as he pass'd the threshold The old man fainted.

Lored. It begins to work, then. Barb. The work is half your own. Lored. And should be all mineMy father and my uncle are no more. Barb. I have read their epitaph, which says they died

By poison.

Lored. When the Doge declared that he Should never deem himself a sovereign till The death of Peter Loredano, both The brothers sicken'd shortly: — he is sovereign.

Barb. A wretched one.

Lored. What should they be who make Orphans?

Barb. But did the Doge make you so? Lored. Yes.

Barb. What solid proofs?

Lored. When princes set themselves

To work in secret, proofs and process are

Alike made difficult; but I have such
Of the first,as shall make the second needless.
Barb. But you will move by law?
Lored. By all the laws
Which he would leave us.

Barb. They are such in this
Our state as render retribution easier
Than 'mongst remoter nations. Is it true
That you have written in your books of

commerce

(The wealthy practise of our highest

nobles),

"Doge Foscari, my debtor for the deaths
Of Marco and Pietro Loredano,
My sire and uncle?"

Lored. It is written thus.

Barb. And will you leave it unerased?
Lored. Till balanced.

Barb. And how?

(Two Senators pass over the stage, as
in their way to "the Hall of the
Council of Ten.”
Lored. You see the number is complete.
Follow me.
[Exit Loredano.
Barb. (solus). Follow thee! I have fol-
low'd long

Thy path of desolation, as the wave
Sweeps after that before it, alike whelming
The wreck that creaks to the wild winds,
and wretch

Who shrieks within its riven ribs, as gush
The waters through them: but this son and
sire

Might move the elements to pause, and yet
Must I on hardily like them-Oh! would
I could as blindly and remorselessly!-
Lo, where he comes!-Be still, my heart!
they are

Thy foes,must be thy victims: wilt thou beat
For those who almost broke thee?

Enter Guards, with young FOSCARI as
prisoner.

Guard. Let him rest.

Signor, take time.

J. Foscari. I thank thee, friend, I'm feeble; But thou mayst stand reproved.

Guard. I'll stand the hazard.

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Enter an Officer, who whispers BARBARIGO.
Barb. (to the Guard) Let him approach.
I must not speak with him
Further than thus; I have transgress'd my
duty

In this brief parley, and must now redeem it
Within the Council-Chamber.

[Exit Barbarigą. [Guard conducting Jacopo Foscari to the window.

Guard. There, sir, 'tis
Open-How feel you?

J. Foscari. Like a boy-Oh Venice!
Guard. And your limbs?

J. Foscari. Limbs! how often have they

borne me

Bounding o'er yon blue tide, as I have
skimm'd

The gondola along in childish race,
And, masqued as a young gondolier, amidst
My gay competitors, noble as I,
Raced for our pleasure in the pride of
strength,

While the fair populace of crowding beauties,
Plebeian as patrician, cheer'd us on
With dazzling smiles, and wishes audible,
And waving kerchiefs, and applauding hands,
Even to the goal!-How many a time have I
Cloven with arm still lustier, breast more
daring,

The wave all roughen'd; with a swimmer's
stroke

Flinging the billows back from my drench'd hair,

J. Foscari. That's kind: - I meet some And laughing from my lip the audacious

pity, but no mercy;

This is the first.

Guard. And might be last, did they Who rule behold us.

Barb. (advancing to the guard) There
is one who does:

Yet fear not; I will neither be thy judge
Nor thy accuser; though the hour is past,
Wait their last summons-I am of "the Ten,"
And waiting for that summons sanction you
Even by my presence: when the last call

sounds,

brine,
Which kiss'd it like a wine-cup, rising o'er
The waves as they arose, and prouder still
The loftier they uplifted me; and oft,
In wantonness of spirit, plunging down
Into their green and glassy gulfs,and making
My way to shells and sea-weed, all unseen
By those above, till they wax'd fearful; then
Returning with my grasp full of such tokens
As show'd that I had search'd the deep:
exulting,

With a far-dashing stroke, and drawing deep We'll in together. Look well to the prisoner! The long-suspended breath, again I spurn'd J. Foscari. What voice is that? 'tis The foam which broke around me, and pursued

Barbarigo's! Ah!
Our house's foe, and one of my few judges.

My track like a sea-bird.—I was a boy then.

Guard. Be a man now: there never was | And the cold drops strain through my brow

more need

Of manhood's strength.

J. Foscari (looking from the lattice). My beautiful, my own,

My only Venice- this is breath! Thy breeze, Thine Adrian sea-breeze,how it fans my face! Thy very winds feel native to my veins, And cool them into calmness! How unlike The hot gales of the horrid Cyclades, Which howl'd about my Candiote dungeon,

and

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Guard. And the third time will slay you.
J. Foscari. Let them do so,

So I be buried in my birth - place; better Be ashes here than aught that lives elsewhere.

Guard. And can you so much love the soil which hates you?

J. Foscari. The soil! - Oh no, it is the
seed of the soil

Which persecutes me; but my native earth
Will take me as a mother to her arms.
I ask no more than a Venetian grave,
A dungeon, what they will, so it be here.
Enter an Officer.

Officer. Bring in the prisoner!
Guard. Signor, you hear the order.
J. Foscari. Ay, I am used to such a
summons; 'tis

The third time they have tortured me:then lend me

Thine arm.
[To the Guard.
Officer. Take mine, sir; 'tis my duty to
Be nearest to your person.

J. Foscari. You!-you are he
Who yesterday presided o'er my pangs—
Away!-I'll walk alone.

Officer. As you please, signor; The sentence was not of my signing, but I dared not disobey the Council when They

J. Foscari. Bade thee stretch me on their horrid engine.

I pray thee touch me not- that is, just now; The time will come they will renew that

order,

But keep off from me till 'tis issued. As I look upon thy hands my curdling limbs Quiver with the anticipated wrenching,

as if

But onward-1 have borne it-I can bear it.-
How looks my father?

Officer. With his wonted aspect.

J. Foscari. So does the earth, and sky,
the blue of ocean,

The brightness of our city, and her domes,
The mirth of her Piazza-even now
Its merry
hum of nations pierces here,
Even here, into these chambers of the

unknown

Who govern, and the unknown and the unnumber'd

Judged and destroy'd in silence,—all things

wear

The self-same aspect, to my very sire!
Nothing can sympathize with Foscari,
Not even a Foscari.—Sir, I attend you.

[Exeunt Jacopo Foscari, Officer, etc. Enter MEMMO and another Senator. Memmo. He's gone-we are too late:~ think you the Ten

Will sit for any length of time to-day? Senator. They say the prisoner is most obdurate,

Persisting in his first avowal; but
More I know not.

Memmo. And that is much; the secrets Of yon terrific chamber are as hidden From us, the premier nobles of the state, As from the people.

Senator. Save the wonted rumours, Which (like the tales of spectres that are rife Near ruin'd buildings) never have been proved,

Nor wholly disbelieved: men know as little Of the state's real acts as of the grave's Unfathom'd mysteries.

Memmo. But with length of time We gain a step in knowledge, and I look Forward to be one day of the decemvirs. Senator. Or Doge?

Memmo. Why, no, not if I can avoid it. Senator. 'Tis the first station of the state, and may

Be lawfully desired, and lawfully
Attain'd by noble aspirants.

Memmo. To such

I leave it; though born noble, my ambition
Is limited: I'd rather be an unit
Of an united and imperial Ten,
Than shine a lonely, though a gilded,
cipher.-

Whom have we here? the wife of Foscari?

Enter MARINA with a female Attendant. Marina. What, no one? I am wrong, there still are two; But they are senators.

Memmo. Most noble lady, Command us.

Marina. I command!--Alas! my life Has been one long entreaty, and a vain one

Memmo. I understand thee, but I must not answer.

Marina (fiercely). True_none dare answer here save on the rack,

Or question save those—

To love; but_no_no_no_it must have been A fearful pang which wrung a groan from him.

Senator. And feeling for thy husband's wrongs, wouldst thou

Memmo (interrupting her). High-born Have him bear more than mortal pain, in

dame! bethink thee

Where thou now art.

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silence?

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He does not, there are those will sentence Ingress is given to none within those

both.

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Is but to expose yourself to harsh repulse,
And worse suspense.

Marina. Who shall oppose me?
Memmo. They

Whose duty 'tis to do so.

Marina. 'Tis their duty

To trample on all human feelings, all
Ties which bind man to man, to emulate
The fiends, who will one day requite them in
Variety of torturing! Yet I'll pass.
Memmo. It is impossible.

Marina. That shall be tried.
Despair defies even despotism: there is
That in my heart would make its way
through hosts

With levell'd spears; and think you a few jailors

Shall put me from my path? Give me,

then, way;

This is the Doge's palace; I am wife
Of the Duke's son, the innocent Duke's son,
And they shall hear this!

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Senator. Poor lady!

Memmo. "Tis mere desperation; she Will not be admitted o'er the threshold. Senator. And

Even if she be so, cannot save her husband.

But, see, the officer returns.

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Lored. And had he not recover'd ?
Barb. To relapse

Upon the least renewal.

Lored. Twas not tried.

Barb. 'Tis vain to murmur; the majority

[The officer passes over the stage In council were against you.
with another person.

Memmo. I hardly
Thought that the Ten had even this touch

of pity,

Or would permit assistance to this sufferer.
Senator. Pity! Is 't pity to recal to feeling
The wretch too happy to escape to death
By the compassionate trance, poor nature's
last

Resource against the tyranny of pain?
Memmo. I marvel they condemn him not

at once.

Senator. 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.

Memmo. Circumstance
Confirms his crimes, but he avows them not.
Senator. None, save the letter, which he
says was written,

Address'd to Milan's duke, in the full know-
ledge

That it would fall into the senate's hands,
And thus he should be re-convey'd to Venice.
Memmo. But as a culprit.

Senator. Yes, but to his country:
And that was all he sought, so he avouches.
Memmo. The accusation of the bribes

was proved.

Senator. Not clearly, and the charge of
homicide

Has been annull'd by thedeath-bed confession
Of Nicolas Erizzo, who slew the late
Chief of the Ten.

Memmo. Then why not clear him?
Senator. That

They ought to answer; for it is well known
That Almoro Donato, as I said,

Was slain by Erizzo for private vengeance.
Memmo. There must be more in this
strange process than
The apparent crimes of the accused disclose
But here come two of the Ten: let us
retire. [Exeunt Memmo and Senator.
Enter LOREDANO and BARBARIGO.
Barb. (addressing Loredano) That were
too much: believe me, 'twas not meet
The trial should go further at this moment.

|

Lored. Thanks to you, sir,

And the old ducal dotard, who combined
The worthy voices which o'erruled my own.
Barb. I am a judge; but must confess
that part

Of our stern duty, which prescribes the
question,

And bids us sit and see its sharp infliction,
Makes me wish-

Lored. What?

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| And were the first to call out for assistance
When he was failing.

Lored. I believed that swoon
His last.

Barb. And have I not oft heard thee name
His and his father's death your nearest wish?
Lored. If he dies innocent, that is to say,
With his guilt unavow'd, he'll be lamented.
Barb. What, wouldst thou slay his

memory?

Lored. Wouldst thou have
His state descend to his children, as it must,
If he die unattainted?

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