Ben. You do confess then, and admit the justice Of our tribunal?

Doge.

I confess to have fail'd;

Fortune is female: from my youth her favours
Were not withheld, the fault was mine to hope
Her former smiles again at this late hour.

Ben. You do not then in aught arrain our equity?
Doge. Noble Venetians! stir me not with questions.
I am resign'd to the worst; but in me still
Have something of the blood of brighter days,
And am not over-patient. Pray you, spare me
Further interrogation, which boot nothing,
Except to turn a trial to debate.

I shall but answer that which will offend you,
And please your enemies-a host already;

'Tis true, these sullen walls should yield no echo: [if
But walls have ears-nay, more, they have tongues; and
There were no other way for truth to o'erleap them,
You who condemn me, you who fear and slay me,
Yet could not bear in silence to your graves
What you would hear from me of good or evil;
The secret were too mighty for your souls:
Then let it sleep in mine, unless you court
A'danger which would double that you escape.
Such my defence would be, had I full scope
To make it famous: for true words are things,
And dying men's are things which long outlive,
And oftentimes avenge them; bury mine,
If ye would fain survive me: take this counsel,
And though too oft ye made me live in wrath,
Let me die calmly; you may grant me this;-
I deny nothing-defend nothing-nothing
I ask of you but silence for myself,

And sentence from the court!

Ben.

This full admission

Spares us the harsh necessity of ordering

The torture to elicit the whole truth.

Doge. The torture! you have put me there already, Daily since I was Doge; but if you will

Add the corporeal rack, you may: these limbs

Will yield with age to crushing iron; but

There's that within my heart shall strain your engines. Enter an officer.

Officer. Noble Venetians! Duchess Faliero Requests admission to the Giunta's presence.

Ben. Say, conscript fathers,* shall she be admitted? One of the Giunta. She may have revelations of imUnto the state, to justify compliance

With her request.

Ben.

All. It is.
Doge.

Is this the general will?

Oh, admirable laws of Venice!
Which would admit the wife, in the full hope
That she might testify against the husband.
What glory to the chaste Venetian dames!
But such blasphemers 'gainst all honour, as
Sit here, do well to act in their vocation.
Now, villain Steno! if this woman fail,
I'll pardon thee thy lie, and thy escape,
And my own violent death, and thy vile life.
The Duchess Enters.

[portance

Ben. Lady! this just tribunal has resolved, Though the request be strange, to grant it, and Whatever be its purport, to accord

A patient hearing with the due respect

Which fits your ancestry, your rank, and virtues:

*The Venetian senate took the same title as the Roman, of "Conscript Fathers."

But you turn pale-ho? thère, look to the lady!
Place a chair instantly.

Angiolina.

A moment's faintness

'Tis past; I pray you pardon me, I sit not

In presence of my prince, and of my husband,
While he is on his feet.

Ben.

Your pleasure, lady?

Ang. Strange rumours, but most true, if all I hear And see be sooth, have reach'd me, and I come To know the worst, even at the worst; forgive The abruptness of my entrance and my bearing. Is it I cannot speak-I cannot shape The question-but you answer it e'er spoken, With eyes averted, and with gloomy browsOh God! this is the silence of the grave!

[repetition Ben. (after a pause.) Spare us, and spare thyself the Of our our most awful, but inexorable

Duty to heaven and man!

Ang.

Yet speak; I cannot-
I cannot-no-even new believe these things.
Is he condem'd?

Ben.

Ang.

Alas!

And was he guilty?

Ben. Lady! the natural distraction of

Thy thoughts at such a moment make the question`
Merit forgiveness; else a doubt like this

Against a just and paramount tribunal

Were deep offence. But question even the Doge,
And if he can deny the proofs, believe him
Guiltless as thy own bosom.

Ang.

Is it so? J

My lord-my sovereign-my poor father's friend-
The mighty in the field, the sage in council;
nsay the words of this man!-Thou art silent!

Ben. He hath already own'd to his own guilt, Nor, as thou seest, doth he deny it now.

Ang. Ay, but he must not die! Spare his few years, Which grief and shame will soon cut down to days! One day of baffled crime must not efface

Near sixteen lustres crowded with brave acts.

Ben. His doom must be fulfill'd without remission

Of time or penalty-'tis a decree.

Ang. He hath been guilty, but there may be mercy. Ben. Not in this case with justice:

Ang.

He who is only just is cruel: who

Alas! signor,

Upon the earth would live were all judged justly?

Ben. His punishment is safety to the state. Ang. He was a subject, and hath served the state; He was your general, and hath saved the state; He is your sovereign, and hath ruled the state.

[state. One of the Council. He is a traitor, and betray'd the Ang. And, but for him, there now had been no state To save or to destroy; and you who sit

There to pronounce the death of your deliverer,
Had now been groaning at a Moslem oar,

Or digging in the Hunnish mines in fetters!

One of the Council, No, lady there are others who Rather than breathe in slavery!

[would die

If there are so

Ang.
Within these walls, thou art not of the number:
The truly brave are generous to the fallen!-

Is there no hope?

Ben.

Lady it cannot be.

[it must be so;

Ang. (turning to the Doge.) Then die, Faliero! since

But with the spirit of my father's friend.
Thou hast been guilty of a great offence,

Half-cancell'd by the harshness of these men.

I would have sued to them-have pray'd to them—
Have begg'd as famish'd mendicants for bread—
Have wept as they will cry unto their God
For mercy, and be answer'd as they answer-
Had it been fitting for thy name or mine,
And if the cruelty in their cold eyes

Had not announced the heartless wrath within.

Then, as a prince, address thee to thy doom!

Doge. I have lived too long not to know how to die!

Thy suing to these men were but the bleating
Of the lamb to the butcher, or the cry

Of seamen to the surge: I would not take
A life eternal, granted at the hands

Of wretches, from whose monstrous villanies
I sought to free the groaning nations!

Michael Steno.

Doge,

A word with thee, and with this noble lady,
Whom I have grievously offended. Would
Sorrow, or shame, or penance on my part,
Could cancel the inexorable past!

But since that cannot be, as Christians let us
Say Farewell, and in peace: with full contrition
I crave, not pardon, but compassion from you,
And give, however weak, my prayers for both.
Ang. Sage Benintende, now chief judge of Venice,
I speak to thee in answer to you signor.
Inform the ribald Steno, that his words
Ne'er weigh'd in mind with Loredano's daughter
Further than to create a moment's pity
For such as he is: would that others had
Despised him as I pity! I prefer

My honour to a thousand lives, could such
Be multiplied in mine, but would not have
A single life of others lost for that

VOL. III.-M