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SCENE L-A Hall in the Ducal Palace.

Enter LOREDANO and BARBARIGO, meeting.
Loredano. WHERE is the prisoner?
Barbarigo. Reposing from
The question.

Lored. The hour's past-fix'd yesterday For the resumption of his trial. - Let us Rejoin our colleagues in the council, and Urge his recal.

Barb. Nay, let him profit by

A few brief minutes for his tortured limbs; He was o'erwrought by the question yesterday,

And may die under it if now repeated.
Lored. Well?

Barb. I yield not to you in love of justice,

Or hate of the ambitious Foscari,
Father and son, and all their noxious race;
But the poor wretch has suffer'd beyond

nature's

Most stoical endurance.
Lored. Without owning
His crime.

Barb. Perhaps without committing any.
But he avow'd the letter to the Duke
Of Milan, and his sufferings half atone for
Such weakness.

Lored. We shall see.
Barb. You, Loredano,

Pursue hereditary hate too far.
Lored. How far?

Barb. To extermination.
Lored. When they are

Extinct, you may say this.-Let's in to

council.

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.

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(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 follow'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 1 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 Barbarigo. [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 l
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) is one who does:

There

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,

We'll in together. Look well to the prisoner! J. Foscari. What voice is that?

Barbarigo's! Ah!

'tis

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 The long-suspended breath, again I spurn'd The foam which broke around me, and pursued

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

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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

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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

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

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

Or question save those—

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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.

Marina. Where I now am!-It was
My husband's father's palace.
Memmo. The Duke's palace.

Marina. And his son's prison ;—true,
have not forgot it;

I

And if there were no other nearer, bitterer
Remembrances, would thank the illustrious
Memmo

For pointing out the pleasures of the place.
Memmo. Be calm!

I

Marina (looking up towards heaven). am; but oh, thou eternal God! Canst thou continue so, with such a world? Memmo. Thy husband yet may be absolved.

Marina. He is,

In heaven. I pray you signor senator,
Speak not of that; you are a man of office,
So is the Doge: he has a son at stake,
Now, at this moment, and I have a husband,
Or had they are there within, or were at
least

An hour since, face to face, as judge and

culprit:

Will he condemn him?

Memmo. I trust, not.

Marina. But if

silence?

Marina. We all must bear tortures. I have not

Left barren the great house of Foscari,
Though they sweep both the Doge and son
from life;

I have endured as much in giving life
To those who will succeed them as they can
In leaving it: but mine were joyful pangs;
And yet they wrung me till I could have
shriek'd,

But did not, for my hope was to bring forth
Heroes, and would not welcome them with

tears.

Memmo. All's silent now.

Marina. Perhaps all's over, but
I will not deem it: he hath nerved himself,
And now defies them.

Enter an Officer hastily.
Memmo. How now, friend, what seek you?
Officer. A leech. The prisoner has fainted.
[Exit Officer.

Memmo. Lady,
Twere better to retire.

Senator (offering to assist her). I pray
thee do so.

Marina. Off! I will tend him.
Memmo. You! Remember, lady!

He does not, there are those will sentence Ingress is given to

both.

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chambers,

none within those

Except the Ten, and their familiars.
Marina. Well,

I know that none who enter there return
As they have enter'd-many never; but
They shall not balk my entrance.

Memmo. Alas! this

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

He shriek! No; that should be his father's That in my heart would make its way

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Memmo. It will only serve
More to exasperate his judges.
Marina. What

Are judges who give way to anger? they
Who do so are assassins. Give we way.

Senator. Poor lady!

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[Exit Marina.

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?

Barb. That You would sometimes feel,
As I do always.

Lored. Go to, you're a child,
Infirm of feeling as of purpose, blown
About by every breath, shook by a sigh,
And melted by a tear-a precious judge
For Venice! and a worthy statesman to
Be partner in my policy!
Barb. He shed

No tears.

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