The guilty saved hath damn'd his hundred judges, And he is pure, for now his crime is theirs. Ang. Oh! had this false and flippant libeller Shed his young blood for his absurd lampoon, Ne'er from that moment could this breast have known A joyous hour, or dreamless slumber more. Doge. Does not the law of Heaven say blood for blood? And he who taints kills more than he who sheds it. Is it the pain of blows, or shame of blows, That makes such deadly to the sense of man? Do not the laws of man say blood for honour? And less than honour for a little gold? Say not the laws of nations blood for treason? Is 't nothing to have fill'd these veins with poison For their once healthful current? is it nothing To have stain'd your name and mine- the noblest names? Is 't nothing to have brought into contempt Ang. Heaven bids us to forgive our enemies. Doge. Doth Heaven forgive her own? Is Satan saved From wrath eternal? Ang. Do not speak thus wildly— Heaven will alike forgive you and your focs. Doge. Amen! May Heaven forgive them. Doge. Yes, when they are in Heaven! Doge. What matters my forgiveness? an Worn out, scorn'd, spurn'd, abused; what matters then My pardon more than my resentment? both Being weak and worthless? I have lived too long. But let us change the argument.—My child! My injured wife, the child of Loredano, The brave, the chivalrous, how little deem'd Thy father, wedding thee unto his friend, That he was linking thee to shame!-Alas! Shame without sin, for thou art faultless. Hadst thou But had a different husband, any husband In Venice save the Doge, this blight, this brand, This blasphemy had never fallen upon thee. So young, so beautiful, so good, so pure, To suffer this, and yet be unavenged! Ang. 1 am too well avenged, for you still love me, With his last malady, he will'd our union, Which soothed his death-bed. If my young heart held any preference Which would have made me happier; nor your offer To make my dowry equal to the rank Of anght in Venice, and forego all claim My father's last injunction gave you. Doge. Thus, 'Twas not a foolish dotard's vile caprice, Your father's choice. Ang. I did so; I would do so In face of earth and heaven; for I have never I knew my days could not disturb you long; Have urged against her right;—my best Would choose more fitly in respect of years, Hallow'd by his last words, and to my heart and should The hour you speak of come,it will be seen so. Doge. I do believe you; and I know you true: For love, romantic love, which in my youth As youth is apt in, so as not to check A pride not in your beauty, but your conduct,― A trust in you-a patriarchal love, Ang. And have ever had. Doge. I think so. For the difference in our years, You knew it, choosing me, and chose: I trusted Not to my qualities, nor would have faith To your belief in heaven-to your mild virtues To your own faith and honour, for my own. Ang. You have done well.-I thank you for that trust, Which I have never for one moment ceased To honour you the more for. Doge. Where is honour, Innate and precept-strengthen'd, 'tis the rock Of faith connubial; where it is not-where Light thoughts are lurking, or the vanities Of worldly pleasure rankle in the heart, Or sensual throbs convulse it, well I know Twere hopeless for humanity to dream Of honesty in such infected blood, Although 'twere wed to him it covets most: An incarnation of the poet's god In all his marble-chisell'd beauty, or The demi-deity, Alcides, in His majesty of superhuman manhood, Would not suffice to bind where virtue is not; It is consistency which forms and proves it: Vice cannot fix, and virtue cannot change. The once fall'n woman must for ever fall; For vice must have variety, while virtue Stands like the sun, and all which rolls around Drinks life, and light, and glory from her aspect. Ang. And seeing, feeling thus this truth in others, (I pray you pardon me;) but wherefore yield you To the most fierce of fatal passions, and Disquiet your great thoughts with restless hate Of such a thing as Steno? Doge. You mistake me. It is not Steno who could move me thus ; Had it been so, he should- but let that pass. Ang. What is 't you feel so deeply, then, even now? Doge. The violated majesty of Venice, At once insulted in her lord and laws. Ang. Alas! why will you thus consider it? Doge. I have thought on 't till-but let me lead you back To what I urged; all these things being noted, I wedded you; the world then did me justice Upon the motive, and my conduct proved | And the soul's labour through which I They did me right, while yours was all to praise: You had all freedom-all respect - all trust From me and mine; and, born of those who made Princes at home, and swept kings from their thrones On foreign shores, in all things you appear'd A miscreant's angry breath may blast it all - And be absolved by his upright compeers. Ang. But he has been condemn'd into captivity. Doge. For such as him a dungeon were acquittal; And his brief term of mock-arrest will pass Within a palace. But I've done with him; The rest must be with you. Ang. With me, my lord? Doge. Yes, Angiolina. Do not marvel; I Have let this prey upon me till I feel My life cannot be long; and fain would have you Regard the injunctions you will find within This scroll. (Giving her a paper) - Fear not; they are for your advantage: Read them hereafter, at the fitting hour. Ang. My lord, in life, and after life, you shall Be honour'd still by me: but may your days Be many yet-and happier than the present! This passion will give way, and you will be Serene, and what you should be-what you were. Doge. I will be what I should be, or be nothing; But never more-oh! never, never more, O'er the few days or hours which yet await The blighted old age of Faliero, shall Sweet Quiet shed her sunset! Never more Those summer-shadows rising from the past Of a not ill-spent nor inglorious life, Mellowing the last hours as the night approaches, Shall soothe me to my moment of long rest. I had but little more to task, or hope, Save the regards due to the blood and sweat, had toil'd To make my country honour'd. As her servant Her servant, though her chief - I would have gone Down to my fathers with a name serene And pure as theirs; but this has been denied me. Would I had died at Zara! Ang. There you saved The state; then live to save her still. A day, Another day like that would be the best Reproof to them and sole revenge for you. Doge. But one such day occurs within an age; My life is little less than one, and 'tis Enough for Fortune to have granted once, That which scarce one more favour'd citizen May win in many states and years. But why Thus speak I? Venice has forgot that day Then why should I remember it? Farewell, Sweet Angiolina! I must to my cabinet; There's much for me to do-and the hour hastens. Ang. Remember what you were. Doge. It were in vain! Joy's recollection is no longer joy, While Sorrow's memory is a sorrow still. Ang. At least, whate'er may urge, let me implore When I am nothing, let that which I was | For a fit time-that hour is on the dial, Be still sometimes a name on thy sweet lips, Let us begone,my child_the time is pressing. Cal. Is't possible! will he be punish'd? Cal. With what? a mulet or an arrest? Cal. Now you rave,or must intend revenge, hand. Bert. Yes; and for one sole draught of hate, forego The great redress we meditate for Venice, My friends, my family, my countrymen! Cal. You have more patience than I care Had I been present when you bore this insult, As 'tis, our cause looks prosperous still. The Doge-what answer gave he? No punishment for such as Barbaro. It may be of to-morrow's sun: delay Cal. These brave words have breathed Into my veins; I am sick of these protracted strength. Let us but deal upon them, and I care not I'm weary to the heart of finding neither. Cal. Itold you so before,and that 'twas idle Turn sick at sight of blood, although a To think of justice from such hands. Bert. At least, It lull'd suspicion, showing confidence. The Doge is a mere puppet, who can scarce Bert. Be patient but till midnight. Get And bid your friends prepare their com panies: Set all in readiness to strike the blow, We must forget all feelings save the oneWe must resign all passions save purpose our We must behold no object save our country- Bert. They never fail who die In a great cause: the block may soak their gore; Their heads may sodden in the sun; their limbs Be strung to city-gates and castle-wallsBut still their spirit walks abroad. Though years Elapse, and others share as dark a doom, They but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts Which o'erpower all others, and conduct "The last of Romans!" Let us be the first ooze, To own a thousand despots in his place. Better bow down before the Hun, and call A Tartar lord, than these swoln silkworms masters! The first at least was man, and used his sword As sceptre: these unmanly creeping things Command our swords, and rule us with a word As with a spell. Bert. It shall he broken soon. In recent council, to redouble now Cal. All who were deem'd trustworthy; there are some Bert. You have said well.-Have you remark'd all such? Cal. I've noted most; and caused the other chiefs To use like caution in their companies. hour, Except Soranzo, Nicoletto Blondo, Bert. Let all the rest be there; I have a stranger to present to them. Cal. And have you dared to peril your friends' lives On a rash confidence in one we know not? Bert. I have risk'd no man's life except my own Of that be certain: he is one who may Bert. Ay, in spirit, Although a child of greatness; he is one Who would become a throne, or overthrow one One who has done great deeds, and seen great changes; No tyrant, though bred up to tyranny; Yet for all this, so full of certain passions. We have need of such, and such have need of us. Cal. And what part would you have him Bert. It may be, that of Chief. Your own command as leader? My object is to make your cause end well. And not to push myself to power. Experience, Some skill, and your own choice, bad mark'd me out |