The works of lord Byron

SCENE 1.- An Antechamber in the Ducal Decided; but as yet his doom's unknown:

Palace.

PIETRO speaks, in entering, to Battista.

Pietro. Is not the messenger return'd? Battista. Not yet;

I have sent frequently, as you commanded, But still the Signory is deep in council And long debate on Steno's accusation. Pietro. Too long-at least so thinks the Doge.

Batt. How bears he These moments of suspense?

Pietro. With struggling patience. Placed at the ducal table, cover'd o'er With all the apparel of the state, petitions, Despatches, judgments, acts, reprieves,

reports,

He sits as rapt in duty; but whene'er
He hears the jarring of a distant door,
Or aught that intimates a coming step,
Or murmur of a voice, his quick eye
wanders,

And he will start up from his chair, then

pause,

And seat himself again, and fix his gaze
Upon some edict; but I have observed
For the last hour he has not turn'd a leaf.
Batt. "Tis said he is much moved; and
doubtless 'twas

Foul scorn in Steno to offend so grossly. Pietro. Ay, if a poor man: Steno's a patrician,

Young, galliard, gay, and haughty.
Batt. Then you think
He will not be judged hardly.

Pietro. Twere enough

He be judged justly; but 'tis not for us
To anticipate the sentence of the Forty.
Batt. And here it comes. - What news,
Vincenzo?

I saw the president in act to seal

The parchment which will bear the Forty's

judgment

Unto the Doge, and hasten to inform him. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The Ducal Chamber.

MARINO FALIERO, Doge; and his nephew, BERTUCCIO FALIERO.

Bertuccio Faliero. It cannot be but they will do you justice.

Doge. Ay, such as the Avogadori did, Who sent up my appeal unto the Forty To try him by his peers, his own tribunal. B. Fal. His peers will scarce protect him; such an act

Would bring contempt on all authority. Doge. Know you not Venice? know you not the Forty?

But we shall see anon.

Bertuccio Faliero (addressing VINCENZO, then entering).

How now what tidings?

Vinc. I am charged to tell his highness that the court

Has pass'd its resolution, and that, soon
As the due forms of judgment are gone
through,

The sentence will be sent up to the Doge;
In the mean time the Forty doth salute
The prince of the Republic, and entreat
His acceptation of their duty.

Doge. Yes

They are wond'rous dutiful, and ever humble.

Sentence is past, you say?

Vinc. It is, your highness:

The president was sealing it, when I
Was call'd in, that no moment might be lost

In forwarding the intimation due,
Not only to the Chief of the Republic,
But the complainant, both in one united.
B. Fal. Are you aware, from aught you
have perceived,

Of their decision?

Vinc. No, my lord; you know

The secret customs of the courts in Venice.

B. Fal. True; but there still is something | given to guess,

Which a shrewd gleaner and quick eye would catch at;

A whisper, or a murmur, or an air More or less solemn spread o'er the tribunal.

The Forty are but men-most worthy men, And wise, and just, and cautious-this I grant

And secret as the grave to which they doom The guilty; but with all this, in their aspects

At least in some, the juniors of the number-Let me seek some assistance.
A searching eye, an eye like yours, Vincenzo,
Would read the sentence ere it was pro-

nounced.

Fine. My lord, I came away upon the moment,

And had no leisure to take note of that Which pass'd among the judges, even in seeming;

My station near the accused too, Michel Steno,

Made me

Doge (abruptly). And how look'd he? deliver that.

Fine. Calm, but not overcast, he stood resign'd

To the decree, whate'er it were; - but lo! It comes, for the perusal of his highness.

Enter the SECRETARY of the Forty. Sec. The high tribunal of the Forty sends Health and respect to the Doge Faliero, Chief magistrate of Venice, and requests His highness to peruse and to approve The sentence past on Michel Steno, born Patrician, and arraign'd upon the charge Contain'd, together with its penalty, Within the rescript which I now present. Doge. Retire and wait without.-Take thou this paper:

[Exeunt Secretary and Vincenzo. The misty letters vanish from my eyes; I cannot fix them.

B. Fal. Patience, my dear uncle: Why do you tremble thus ?-nay, doubt not, all

Will be as could be wish'd.
Doge. Say on.

B. Fal. (reading.) "Decreed "In council, without one dissenting voice, "That Michel Steno, by his own confession, "Guilty on the last night of Carnival Of having graven on the ducal throne -The following words—-—”

Doge. Stop, sir-Stir not'Tis past.

B. Fal. I cannot but agree with you The sentence is too slight for the offenceIt is not honourable in the Forty To affix so slight a penalty to that Which was a foul affront to you, and even To them, as being your subjects; but 'tis not Yet without remedy: you can appeal To them once more, or to the Avogadori, Who, seeing that true justice is withheld, Will now take up the cause they once declined,

And do you right upon the bold delinquent. Think you not thus, good uncle? why do

you stand

So fix'd? You heed me not:-I pray you, hear me!

Doge (dashing down the ducal bonnet, and offering to trample upon it, exclaims, as he is withheld by his nephew,) Oh, that the Saracen were in Saint Mark's! Thus would I do him homage.

B. Fal. For the sake

Of Heaven and all its Saints, my lord-
Doge. Away!

Oh, that the Genoese were in the port!
Oh, that the Huns whom I o'erthrew at Zara
Were ranged around the palace!

B. Fal. "Tis not well
In Venice' Duke to say so.

Doge. Venice' Duke!

Who now is Duke in Venice? let me see him, That he may do me right.

B. Fal. If you forget

Your office, and its dignity and duty, Remember that of man, and curb this passion.

The Duke of Venice——

Doge (interrupting him). There is no such thing

It is a word-nay, worse-a worthless by

word:

Who begs his bread, if 'tis refused by one,
May win it from another kinder heart;
But he, who is denied his right by those
Whose place it is to do no wrong, is poorer
Than the rejected beggar - he's a slave-
And that am I, and thou, and all our house,
Even from this hour; the meanest artisan
Will point the finger, and the haughty noble
May spit upon us :-where is our redress?
B. Fal. The law, my prince-

Doge (interrupting him). You see what
it has done:

I ask'd no remedy but from the law

Doge. I tell thee-must I tell theewhat thy father

Would have required no words to comprehend?

Hast thou no feeling save the external sense Of torture from the touch? hast thou no soul

No pride-no passion-no deep sense of honour?

B. Fal. 'Tis the first time that honour has been doubted,

And were the last, from any other sceptic. Doge. You know the full offence of this born villain,

This creeping, coward, rank, acquitted felon,

I sought no vengeance but redress by law-Who threw his sting into a poisonous libel,
I call'd no judges but those named by law
As sovereign, I appeal'd unto my subjects,
The very subjects who had made me
sovereign,

And gave me thus a double right to be so.
The rights of place and choice, of birth
and service,

Honours and years, these scars, these hoary
hairs,

The travel, toil, the perils, the fatigues,
The blood and sweat of almost eighty years,
Were weigh'd i' the balance, 'gainst the
foulest stain,

The grossest insult, most contemptuous

And on the honour of Oh, God!--my wife,
The nearest, dearest part of all men's honour,
Left a base slur to pass from mouth to mouth
Of loose mechanics, with all coarse foul
comments,

And villanous jests, and blasphemies obscene;
While sneering nobles, in more polish'd
guise,

Whisper'd the tale, and smiled upon the lie Which made me look like them-a courteous wittol,

Patient-ay, proud, it may be, of dishonour. B. Fal. But still it was a lie-you knew it false,

And so did all men.

Doge. Nephew, the high Roman Said "Cæsar's wife must not even be suspected,"

And put her from him.

B. Fal. True-but in those days-
Doge. What is it that a Roman would

Refused the diadem of all the Cæsars,
And wore the ducal cap I trample on,
Because 'tis now degraded.

B. Fal. 'Tis even so.

Doge. It is-it is:-I did not visit on The innocent creature, thus most vilely slander'd

Because she took an old man for her lord.
For that he had been long her father's friend
And patron of her house, as if there were
No love in woman's heart but lust of youth
And beardless faces;- I did not for this
Visit the villain's infamy on her,
But craved my country's justice on his head,
The justice due unto the humblest being
Who hath a wife whose faith is sweet

to him,

Who hath a home whose hearth is dear to

Doge. Death! Was I not the sovereign | All prudence in your fury, at these years,

of the state

Insulted on his very throne, and made
A mockery to the men who should obey me?
Was I not injured as a husband? scorn'd
As man? reviled, degraded, as a prince?
Was not offence like his a complication
Of insult and of treason?-and he lives!
Had he, instead of on the Doge's throne,
Stamp'd the same brand upon a peasant's
stool,

His blood had gilt the threshold,for the carle
Had stabb'd him on the instant.

B. Fal. Do not doubt it,

He shall not live till sunset-leave to me The means, and calm yourself.

Doge. Hold, nephew! this Would have sufficed but yesterday: at present

I have no further wrath against this man. B. Fal. What mean you? is not the offence redoubled

Although the cause

Doge. Ay, think upon the causeForget it not:-When you lie down to rest, Let it be black among your dreams; and when

The morn returns, so let it stand between The sun and you, as an ill-omen'd cloud Upon a summer-day of festival:

So will it stand to me;--but speak not, stir not,

Leave all to me;—we shall have much to do, And you shall have a part.-But now retire, 'Tis fit 1 were alone.

B. Fal. (Taking up and placing the ducal bonnet on the table) Ere I depart, I pray you to resume what you have spurn'd, Till you can change it haply for a crown. And now I take my leave, imploring you In all things to rely upon my duty As doth become your near and faithful kinsman,

[Exit Bertuccio Faliero. Doge (solus). Adieu,my worthy nephew.Hollow bauble!

By this most rank-I will not say-acquittal, And not less loyal citizen and subject.
For it is worse, being full acknowledgment
Of the offence, and leaving it unpunish'd?
Doge. It is redoubled, but not now by him:
The Forty hath decreed a month's arrest-
We must obey the Forty.

B. Fal. Obey them!

Who have forgot their duty to the sovereign? Doge. Why, yes;-boy, you perceive it then at last :

Whether as fellow-citizen who sues
For justice,or as sovereign who commands it,
They have defrauded me of both my rights
(For here the sovereign is a citizen);
Bat. notwithstanding, harm not thou a hair
Of Steno's head-he shall not wear it long.
B. Fal. Not twelve hours longer, had
you left to me

The mode and means: if you had calmly heard me,

I never meant this miscreant should escape, But wish'd you to repress such gusts of passion,

That we more surely might devise together His taking off.

Doge. No, nephew, he must live; At least, just now-a life so vile as his Were nothing at this hour; in th' olden time Some sacrifices ask'd a single victim, Great expiations had a hecatomb.

B. Fal. Your wishes are my law; and yet I fain

Would prove to you how near unto my heart
The honour of our house must ever be.
Doge. Fear not; you shall have time
and place of proof:

But be not thou too rash, as I have been.
I am ashamed of my own anger now;
I pray you, pardon me.

B. Fal. Why that's my uncle!
The leader, and the statesman, and the chief
Of commonwealths, and sovereign of himself!
I wonder'd to perceive you so forget

(Taking up the ducal cap. Beset with all the thorns that line a crown, Without investing the insulted brow With the all-swaying majesty of kings; Thou idle, gilded, and degraded toy, Let me resume thee as I would a vizor. [Puts it on.

How my brain aches beneath thee! and

my temples

Throb feverish under thy dishonest weight.
Could I not turn thee to a diadem?
Could I not shatter the Briarean sceptre
Which in this hundred-handed senate rules,
Making the people nothing, and the prince
A pageant? In my life I have achieved
Tasks not less difficult – achieved for them,
Who thus repay me!-Can I not requite
them?

Oh, for one year! Oh, but for even a day
Of my full youth, while yet my body served
My soul as serves the generous steed his lord!
I would have dash'd amongst them, asking few
In aid to overthrow these swoln patricians;
But now I must look round for other hands
To serve this hoary head;-but it shall plan
In such a sort as will not leave the task
Herculean, though as yet 'tis but a chaos
Of darkly-brooding thoughts: my fancy is
In her first work, more nearly to the light
Holding the sleeping images of things,
For the selection of the pausing judgment. —
The troops are few in-

Enter VINCENZO.
There is one without
Craves audience of your highness.
Doge. I'm unwell-

I can see no one, not even a patrician—
Let him refer his business to the council.

Vine. My lord, I will deliver your reply; It cannot much import-he's a plebeian, The master of a galley, I believe.

Doge. How did you say the patron of a galley?

That is-I mean-a servant of the state:
Admit him, he may be on public service.
[Exit Vincenzo.
Doge (solus). This patron may be sounded;
I will try him.

I know the people to be discontented; They have cause, since Sapienza's adverse day,

When Genoa conquer'd: they have further

cause,

Since they are nothing in the state, and in The city worse than nothing-mere machines,

To serve the nobles' most patrician pleasure. The troops have long arrears of pay, oft promised,

And murmur deeply-any hope of change Will draw them forward: they shall pay themselves

With plunder:-but the priests-I doubt the priesthood

Will not be with us; they have hated me Since that rash hour, when, madden'd with the drone,

I smote the tardy bishop at Treviso, Quickening his holy march: yet,ne'ertheless, They may be won, at least their chief at

Rome,

By some well-timed concessions; but, above All things, I must be speedy; at my hour Of twilight little light of life remains. Could I free Venice, and avenge my wrongs, I had lived too long, and willingly would sleep

Next moment with my sires; and, wanting this,

Better that sixty of my fourscore years Had been already where-how soon, I care

not

The whole must be extinguish'd;-better

that

They ne'er had been, than drag me on to be The thing these arch-oppressors fain would make me.

Let me consider-of efficient troops
There are three thousand posted at—

Enter VINCENZO and ISRAEL BERTUCCIO.

Vinc. May it please

Of least respect and interest in Venice.
You must address the council.
Bert. Twere in vain;
For he who injured me is one of them.
Doge. There's blood upon thy face-how
came it there?

Bert. 'Tis mine, and not the first I've shed for Venice,

But the first shed by a Venetian hand:
A noble smote me.

Doge. Doth he live?
Bert. Not long-

But for the hope I had and have. that you,
My prince, yourself a soldier, will redress
Him, whom the laws of discipline and Venice
Permit not to protect himself; if not-
I say no more.

Doge. But something you would doIs it not so?

Bert. I am a man, my lord.

Doge. Why, so is he who smote you. Bert. He is call'd so;

Nay, more, a noble one- at least, in Venice: But since he hath forgotten that I am one. And treats me like a brute, the brute may

turn

'Tis said the worm will.

Doge. Say his name and lineage?
Bert. Barbaro.

Doge. What was the cause? or the pretext?
Bert. I am the chief of the arsenal,
employ'd

At present in repairing certain galleys
But roughly used by the Genoese last year.
This morning comes the noble Barbaro
Full of reproof, because our artisans
Had left some frivolous order of his house,
To execute the state's decree; I dared
To justify the men-he raised his hand.-
Behold my blood! the first time it e'er flow'd
Dishonourably.

Doge. Have you long time served? Bert. So long as to remember Zara's siege, And fight beneath the chief who beat the Huns there,

Sometime my general, now the Doge Faliero
Doge. How are we comrades?- the
state's ducal robes
Sit newly on me, and you were appointed
Chief of the arsenal ere I came from Rome;
So that I recognised you not. Who placed you?
Bert. The late Doge; keeping still my
old command

As patron of a galley: my new office

Your highness, the same patron whom I Was given as the reward of certain scars

spake of

Is here to crave your patience.

Doge. Leave the chamber,

Vincenzo.

[Exit Vincenzo.

Bert. Of God and of the Doge.

the twain

(So was your predecessor pleased to say):
I little thought his bounty would conduct me
To his successor as a helpless plaintiff,
At least, in such a cause.

Doge. Are you much hurt?
Bert. Irreparably in my self-esteem.
Doge. Speak out; fear nothing: being

stung at heart,

Doge. Alas! my friend, you seek it of What would you do to be revenged on this

man?

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