Lurks in the present institutes of Venice: All these men were my friends; I loved them, they

Requited honourably my regards; We served and fought; we smiled and wept in concert;

We revell'd or we sorrow'd side by side; We made alliances of blood and marriage;

We grew in years and honours fairly, till Their own desire, not my ambition, made Them choose me for their prince, and then farewell!

Farewell all social memory! all thoughts In common! and sweet bonds which link old friendships,

When the survivors of long years and actions,

Which now belong to history,soothe the days Which yet remain by treasuring each other, And never meet, but each beholds the mirror Of half a century on his brother's brow, And sees a hundred beings, now in earth, Flit round them whispering of the days gone by,

And seeming not all dead, as long as two Of the brave, joyous, reckless, glorious band, Which once were one and many, still retain A breath to sigh for them, a tongue to speak Of deeds that else were silent, save on marble

Oime! Oime!-and must I do this deed? Bert. My lord, you are much moved: it is not now

That such things must be dwelt upon.
Doge. Your patience

A moment - I recede not: mark with me
The gloomy vices of this government.
From the hour that made me Doge, the Doge
THEY made me-

Farewell the past! I died to all that had been,
Or rather they to me: no friends, no kindness,
No privacy of life-all were cut off:
They came not near me, such approach
gave umbrage;

They could not love me, such was not the law;

They thwarted me, 'twas the state's policy; They baffled me, 'twas a patrician's duty; They wrong'd me, for such was to right

the state;

Bert. You have been deeply wrong'd, and now shall be

Nobly avenged before another night.
Doge. I had borne all-it hurt me, but
I bore it-

Till this last running-over of the cup
Of bitterness - until this last loud insult,
Not only unredress'd, but sanction'd; then,
And thus, I cast all further feelings from me
The feelings which they crush'd for me,
long, long

Before, even in their oath of false allegiance! Even in that very hour and vow, they abjured

Their friend and made a sovereign, as boys make

Playthings, to do their pleasure and be broken!

I from that hour have seen but senators
In dark suspicious conflict with the Doge,
Brooding with him in mutual hate and fear;
They dreading he should snatch the tyranny
From out their grasp, and he abhorring
tyrants.

To me, then, these men have no private life, Nor claim to ties they have cut off from others;

As senators for arbitrary acts
Amenable, I look on them - as such
Let them be dealt upon.

Cal. And now to action! Hence, brethren, to our posts, and may this be

The last night of mere words: I'd fain be doing!

Saint Mark's great bell at dawn shall find me wakeful!

Bert. Disperse then to your posts; be firm and vigilant; Think on the wrongs we bear, the rights we claim.

This day and night shall be the last of peril! Watch for the signal, and then march. I go To join my band; let each be prompt to marshal

His separate charge: the Doge will now

From his proud master's hands; if he refuse it,
The offence grows his, and let him answer it.
Cal. Yet, as the immediate cause of the
alliance

Which consecrates our undertaking more,
I owe him such deep gratitude, that fain
I would repay him as he merits; may I?
Doge. You would but lop the hand, and
I the head;

You would but smite the scholar, I the master;

You would but punish Steno, I the senate. I cannot pause on individual hate,

In the absorbing, sweeping, whole revenge, Which, like the sheeted fire from heaven, must blast

Without distinction, as it fell of yore, Where the Dead Sea hath quench'd two cities' ashes.

Bert. Away, then, to your posts! I but remain

A moment to accompany the Doge
To our late place of trust, to see no spies
Have been upon the scout, and thence I hasten
To where my allotted band is under arms.
Cal. Farewell, then, until dawn.
Bert. Success go with you!
Consp. We will not fail-away! My lord,
farewell!

[The Conspirators salute the DOGE
and ISRAEL BERTUCCIO, and retire,
headed by PHILIP CALENDARO.
The DOGE and ISRAEL BERTUCCIO
remain.

Bert. We have them in the toil-it cannot fail!

Now thou 'rt indeed a sovereign, and wilt

make

A name immortal greater than the greatest: Free citizens have struck at kings ere now; Casars have fallen, and even patrician hands Have crush'd dictators, as the popular steel Has reach'd patricians; but until this hour, What prince has plotted for his people's

freedom?

Or risk'd a life to liberate his subjects?
For ever, and for ever, they conspire
Against the people, to abuse their hands
To chains, but laid aside to carry weapons
Against the fellow-nations, so that yoke
On yoke, and slavery and death may whet,
Not glut, the never-gorged Leviathan!
Now, my lord, to our enterprise; 'tis great,
And greater the reward; why stand you rapt?
A moment back, and you were all impatience!
Doge. And is it then decided? must they

die?

Bert. Who?

Doge. My own friends by blood and

The rebel's oracle-the people's tribuneI blame you not, you act in your vocation; They smote you, and oppress'd you, and despised you;

So they have me: but you ne'er spake with them;

You never broke their bread, nor shared their salt;

You never had their wine-cup at your lips; You grew not up with them, nor laugh'd, nor wept,

Nor held a revel in their company; Ne'er smiled to see them smile, nor claim'd their smile

In social interchange for yours, nor trusted Nor wore them in your heart of hearts, as I have:

These hairs of mine are gray, and so are theirs, The elders of the council; I remember When all our locks were like the raven's

wing,

As we went forth to take our prey around The isles wrung from the false Mahometan: And can I see them dabbled o'er with blood? Each stab to them will seem my suicide.

Bert. Doge! Doge! this vacillation is unworthy

A child; if you are not in second childhood, Call back your nerves to your own purpose, nor

Thus shame yourself and me. By heavens!
I'd rather

Forego even now, or fail in our intent,
Than see the man I venerate subside
From high resolves into such shallow
weakness!

You have seen blood in battle, shed it, both Your own and that of others; can you shrink then

From a few drops from veins of hoary vampires,

Who but give back what they have drain'd

Which shall unpeople many palaces,
And hew the highest genealogic trees
Down to earth, strew'd with their bleeding
fruit,

And crush their blossoms into barrenness;
This will 1-must 1-have 1 sworn to do,
Nor aught can turn me from my destiny;
But still I quiver to behold what I
Must be, and think what I have been!
Bear with me.

Bert. Re-man your breast; I feel no such remorse,

I understand it not: why should you change? You acted, and you act on your free will. Doge. Ay, there it is-you feel not, nor do I,

Else I should stab thee on the spot, to save
A thousand lives, and, killing, do no murder;
You feel not-you go to this butcher-work
As if these high-born men were steers for
shambles!

When all is over, you'll be free and merry,
And calmly wash those hands incarnadine;
But I, outgoing thee and all thy fellows
In this surpassing massacre, shall be,
Shall see, and feel-oh God! oh God!
true,

'tis

And thou dost well to answer that it was
"My own free will and act ;" and yet you err,
For I will do this! Doubt not-fear not; I
Will be your most unmerciful accomplice!
And yet I act no more on my free will,
Nor my own feelings-both compel me back;
But there is hell within me and around,
And like the demon who believes and
trembles

Must I abhor and do. Away! Away!
Get thee unto thy fellows, I will hie me
To gather the retainers of our house.
Doubt not, Saint Mark's great bell shall
wake all Venice,

Except her slaughter'd senate: ere the sun
Be broad upon the Adriatic, there
Shall be a voice of weeping, which shall
drown

The roar of waters in the cry of blood!
I am resolved-come on.

Bert. With all my soul!
Keep a firm rein upon these bursts of passion;
Remember what these men have dealt to thee,
And that this sacrifice will be succeeded
By ages of prosperity and freedom
To this unshackled city: a true tyrant
Would have depopulated empires, nor
Have felt the strange compunction which
hath wrung you

To punish a few traitors to the people!
Trust me, such were a pity more misplaced
Than the late mercy of the state to Steno
Doge. Man, thou hast struck upon the
chord which jars
All nature.from my heart.

task!

ACT IV.

Hence to our [Exeunt.

SCENE 1-Palazzo of the Patrician LIONI. LIONI laying aside the mask and cloak which the Venetian Nobles wore in public, attended by a Domestic.

Lioni. I will to rest, right weary of this revel,

There came a heaviness across my heart, Which in the lightest movement of the dance, Though eye to eye, and hand in hand united Even with the lady of my love, oppress'd me, And through my spirit chill'd my blood,

until

A damp like death rose o'er my brow; I

strove

To laugh the thought away, but 't would not be;

Through all the music ringing in my ears
A knell was sounding as distinct and clear,
Though low and far, as e'er the Adrian wave
Rose o'er the city's murmur in the night,
Dashing against the outward Lido's bulwark;
So that I left the festival before
It reach'd its zenith, and will woo my pillow
For thoughts more tranquil,or forgetfulness.
Antonio, take my mask and cloak, and light
The lamp within my chamber.

Antonio. Yes, my lord: Command you no refreshment? Lioni. Nought, save sleep, Which will not be commanded. Let me hope it, [Exit Antonio. Though my breast feels too anxious; 1 will try

Whether the air will calm my spirits: `tis A goodly night; the cloudy wind which

blew

From the Levant hath crept into its cave, And the broad moon has brighten'd. What a stillness! [Goes to an open lattice. And what a contrast with the scene I left. Where the tall torches' glare, and silver lamps'

More pallid gleam along the tapestried walls,

Spread over the reluctant gloom which

haunts

Those vast and dimly-latticed galleries
A dazzling mass of artificial light,
Which show'd all things, but nothing as
they were.

There Age essaying to recal the past,
After long striving for the hues of youth
At the sad labour of the toilet, and
Full many a glance at the too faithful
mirror,

Prankt forth in all the pride of ornament,
Forgot itself, and trusting to the falsehood
Of the indulgent beams, which show, yet
hide,

Believed itself forgotten, and was fool'd. There Youth, which needed not, nor thought of such

Vain adjuncts, lavish'd its true bloom, and health,

flush'd and crowded wassailers, and And bridal beauty, in the unwholesome press

Of

wasted

Its hours of rest in dreaming this was pleasure,

streams

heart

The sparkling eyes and flashing ornaments The white arms and the raven hair-the braids

And bracelets; swanlike bosoms, and the necklace,

An India in itself, yet dazzling not
The eye like what it circled; the thin robes
Floating like light clouds 'twixt our gaze
and heaven;

The many-twinkling feet so small and sylphlike,

Suggesting the more secret symmetry
Of the fair forms which terminate so well-
All the delusion of the dizzy scene,
Its false and true enchantments-art and
nature,

Which swam before my giddy eyes, that drank

The sight of beauty as the parch'd pilgrim's
On Arab sands the false mirage, which offers
A lucid lake to his eluded thirst,
Are gone.-Around me are the stars and
waters-

Worlds mirror'd in the ocean, goodlier sight
Than torches glared back by a gaudy glass;
And the great element, which is to space
What ocean is to earth, spreads its blue
depths,

Soften'd with the first breathings of the spring;

The high moon sails upon her beauteous

No other record. All is gentle: nought
Stirs rudely; but, congenial with the night,
Whatever walks is gliding like a spirit.
The tinklings of some vigilant guitars
Of sleepless lovers to a wakeful mistress,

the dash

Phosphoric of the oar, or rapid twinkle
Of the far lights of skimming gondolas,
And the responsive voices of the choir
Of boatmen answering back with verse for

verse;

Some dusky shadow chequering the Rialto; Some glimmering palace-roof, or tapering spire,

Are all the sights and sounds which here pervade

The ocean-born and earth-commanding city; How sweet and soothing is this hour of calm! I thank thee, Night! for thou hast chased

away

Those horrid bodements which, amidst the throng,

I could not dissipate: and with the blessing Of thy benign and quiet influence, Now will I to my couch, although to rest Is almost wronging such a night as this[A knocking is heard from without. Hark! what is that? or who at such a moment?

Enter ANTONIO.

Antonio. My lord, a man without, on urgent business,

Implores to be admitted.

Lioni. Is he a stranger?

Antonio. His face is muffled in his cloak, but both

His voice and gestures seem familiar to me; I craved his name, but this he seem'd

reluctant

To trust, save to yourself; most earnestly He sues to be permitted to approach you.

Lioni. Tis a strange hour, and a suspi

cious bearing!

And yet there is slight peril: 'tis not in Their houses noble men are struck at; still, Although I know not that I have a foe

In Venice, 'twill be wise to use some caution. Admit him, and retire; but call up quickly Some of thy fellows, who may wait without.. Who can this man be?

[Exit ANTONIO, and returns with BERTRAM muffled.

Bertram. My good lord Lioni,

I have no time to lose, nor thou- dismiss

This menial hence; I would be private

with you.

Lioni. It seems the voice of Bertram―go, Antonio. [Exit Antonio.

showing

That he is not unheard; while her young

hand,

Fair as the moonlight of which it seems part,
So delicately white, it trembles in
The act of opening the forbidden lattice,

an hour?

Bertram (discovering himself). A boon.

my noble patron; you have granted Many to your poor client, Bertram; add

This one, and make him happy.

Lioni. Thou hast known me