Lord Byron - Delphi Poets Series
Page 135
I have been so beyond the common lot
Chastened and visited, I needs must think
That I was wicked. If it be so, may
What I have undergone here keep me from
A like hereafter!
Mar. Fear not: that’s reserved 170
For your oppressors.
Jac. Fos.Let me hope not.
Mar. Hope not?
Jac. Fos. I cannot wish them all they have inflicted.
Mar. All! the consummate fiends! A thousandfold
May the worm which never dieth feed upon them!
Jac. Fos. They may repent.
Mar. And if they do, Heaven will not
Accept the tardy penitence of demons.
Enter an Officer and Guards.
Offi. Signor! the boat is at the shore — the wind
Is rising — we are ready to attend you.
Jac. Fos. And I to be attended. Once more, father,
Your hand!
Doge. Take it. Alas! how thine own trembles! 180
Joe. Fos. No — you mistake; ‘tis yours that shakes, my father.
Farewell!
Doge. Farewell! Is there aught else?
Jac. Fos.No — nothing.
[To the Officer.
Lend me your arm, good Signor.
Offi. You turn pale —
Let me support you — paler — ho! some aid there!
Some water!
Mar. Ah, he is dying!
Jac. Fos.Now, I’m ready —
My eyes swim strangely — where’s the door?
Mar. Away!
Let me support him — my best love! Oh, God!
How faintly beats this heart — this pulse!
Jac. Fos.The light!
Is it the light? — I am faint.
[Officer presents him with water.
Offi. He will be better,
Perhaps, in the air.
Jac. Fos.I doubt not. Father — wife — 190
Your hands!
Mar. There’s death in that damp, clammy grasp.
Oh, God! — My Foscari, how fare you?
Jac. Fos.Well![He dies.
Offi. He’s gone!
Doge. He’s free.
Mar. No — no, he is not dead;
There must be life yet in that heart — he could not[bs]
Thus leave me.
Doge. Daughter!
Mar. Hold thy peace, old man!
I am no daughter now — thou hast no son.
Oh, Foscari!
Offi. We must remove the body.
Mar. Touch it not, dungeon miscreants! your base office
Ends with his life, and goes not beyond murder,
Even by your murderous laws. Leave his remains 200
To those who know to honour them.
Offi. I must
Inform the Signory, and learn their pleasure.
Doge. Inform the Signory from me, the Doge,
They have no further power upon those ashes:
While he lived, he was theirs, as fits a subject —
Now he is mine — my broken-hearted boy![Exit Officer.
Mar. And I must live!
Doge. Your children live, Marina.
Mar. My children! true — they live, and I must live
To bring them up to serve the State, and die
As died their father. Oh! what best of blessings 210
Were barrenness in Venice! Would my mother
Had been so!
Doge. My unhappy children!
Mar. What!
You feel it then at last — you! — Where is now
The Stoic of the State?
Doge (throwing himself down by the body). Here!
Mar. Aye, weep on!
I thought you had no tears — you hoarded them
Until they are useless; but weep on! he never
Shall weep more — never, never more.
Enter and .
Lor. What’s here?
Mar. Ah! the Devil come to insult the dead! Avaunt!
Incarnate Lucifer! ‘tis holy ground.
A martyr’s ashes now lie there, which make it 220
A shrine. Get thee back to thy place of torment!
Bar. Lady, we knew not of this sad event,
But passed here merely on our path from council.
Mar. Pass on.
Lor. We sought the Doge.
Mar. (pointing to the Doge, who is still on the ground
by his son’s body)He’s busy, look,
About the business you provided for him.
Are ye content?
Bar. We will not interrupt
A parent’s sorrows.
Mar. No, ye only make them,
Then leave them.
Doge (rising).Sirs, I am ready.
Bar. No — not now.
Lor. Yet ‘twas important.
Doge. If ‘twas so, I can
Only repeat — I am ready.
Bar. It shall not be 230
Just now, though Venice tottered o’er the deep
Like a frail vessel. I respect your griefs.
Doge. I thank you. If the tidings which you bring
Are evil, you may say them; nothing further
Can touch me more than him thou look’st on there;
If they be good, say on; you need not fear
That they can comfort me.
Bar. I would they could!
Doge. I spoke not to you, but to Loredano.
He understands me.
Mar. Ah! I thought it would be so.
Doge. What mean you?
Mar. Lo! there is the blood beginning 240
To flow through the dead lips of Foscari —
The body bleeds in presence of the assassin.
[To .
Thou cowardly murderer by law, behold
How Death itself bears witness to thy deeds!
Doge. My child! this is a phantasy of grief.
Bear hence the body. [To his attendants] Signors, if it please you,
Within an hour I’ll hear you.
[Exeunt , , and attendants with the body.
Manent and .
Bar. He must not
Be troubled now.
Lor. He said himself that nought
Could give him trouble farther.
Bar. These are words;
But Grief is lonely, and the breaking in 250
Upon it barbarous.
Lor. Sorrow preys upon
Its solitude, and nothing more diverts it
From its sad visions of the other world,
Than calling it at moments back to this.
The busy have no time for tears.
Bar. And therefore
You would deprive this old man of all business?
Lor. The thing’s decreed. The Giunta and “the Ten”
Have made it law — who shall oppose that law?
Bar. Humanity!
Lor. Because his son is dead?
Bar. And yet unburied.
Lor. Had we known this when 260
The act was passing, it might have suspended
Its passage, but impedes it not — once passed.
Bar. I’ll not consent.
Lor. You have consented to
All that’s essential — leave the rest to me.
Bar. Why press his abdication now?
Lor. The feelings
Of private passion may not interrupt
The public benefit; and what the State
Decides to-day must not give way before
To-morrow for a natural accident.
Bar. You have a son.
Lor. I have — and had a father. 270
Bar. Still so inexorable?
Lor. Still.
Bar. But let him
Inter his son before we press upon him
This edict.
Lor. Let him call up into life
My sire and uncle — I consent. Men may,
Even agéd men, be, or appear to be,
Sires of a hundred sons, but cannot kindle
An atom of their ancestors from earth.
The victims are not equal; he has seen
His sons expire by natural deaths, and I
My sires by violent and mysterious maladies. 280
I used no poison, bribed no subtle master
Of the destructive art of healing, to
Shorten the path to the eternal cure.
His sons — and he had four — are dead, without
My dabbling in vile drugs.
Bar. And art thou sure
He dealt in such?
Lor. Most sure.
Bar. And yet he seems
All openness.
Lor. And so he seemed not long
Ago to Carmagnuola.
Bar. The attainted
And foreign traitor?
Lor. Even so: when he,
After the very night in which “the Ten” 290
(Joined with the Doge) decided his destruction,
Met the great Duke at daybreak with a jest,
Demanding whether he should augur him
“The good day or good night?” his Doge-ship answered,
“That he in truth had passed a night of vigil,
In which” (he added with a gracious smile)
“There often has been question about you.”
‘Twas true; the question was the death resolved
Of Carmagnuola, eight months ere he died;
And the old Doge, who knew him doomed, smiled on him 300
With deadly cozenage, eight long months beforehand —
Eight months of such hypocrisy as is
Learnt but in eighty years. Brave Carmagnuola
Is dead; so is young Foscari and his brethren —
I never smiled on them.
Bar. Was Carmagnuola
Your friend?
Lor. He was the safeguard of the city.
In early life its foe, but in his manhood,
Its saviour first, then victim.
Bar. Ah! that seems
The penalty of saving cities. He
Whom we now act against not only saved 310
Our own, but added others to her sway.
Lor. The Romans (and we ape them) gave a crown
To him who took a city: and they gave
A crown to him who saved a citizen
In battle: the rewards are equal. Now,
If we should measure forth the cities taken
By the Doge Foscari, with citizens
Destroyed by him, or through him, the account
Were fearfully against him, although narrowed
To private havoc, such as between him 320
And my dead father.
Bar. Are you then thus fixed?
Lor. Why, what should change me?
Bar. That which changes me.
But you, I know, are marble to retain
A feud. But when all is accomplished, when
The old man is deposed, his name degraded,
His sons all dead, his family depressed,
And you and yours triumphant, shall you sleep?
Lor. More soundly.
Bar. That’s an error, and you’ll find it
Ere you sleep with your fathers.
Lor. They sleep not
In their accelerated graves, nor will 330
Till Foscari fills his. Each night I see them
Stalk frowning round my couch, and, pointing towards
The ducal palace, marshal me to vengeance.
Bar. Fancy’s distemperature! There is no passion
More spectral or fantastical than Hate;
Not even its opposite, Love, so peoples air
With phantoms, as this madness of the heart.
Enter an Officer.
Lor. Where go you, sirrah?
Offi. By the ducal order
To forward the preparatory rites
For the late Foscari’s interment.
Bar. Their 340
Vault has been often opened of late years.
Lor. ‘Twill be full soon, and may be closed for ever!
Offi. May I pass on?
Lor. You may.
Bar. How bears the Doge
This last calamity?
Offi. With desperate firmness.
In presence of another he says little,
But I perceive his lips move now and then;
And once or twice I heard him, from the adjoining
Apartment, mutter forth the words — ”My son!”
Scarce audibly. I must proceed.[Exit Officer.
Bar. This stroke
Will move all Venice in his favour.
Lor. Right! 350
We must be speedy: let us call together
The delegates appointed to convey
The Council’s resolution.
Bar. I protest
Against it at this moment.
Lor. As you please —
I’ll take their voices on it ne’ertheless,
And see whose most may sway them, yours or mine.
[Exeunt and .
ACT V
I. — The Apartment.
The and Attendants.
Att. My Lord, the deputation is in waiting;
But add, that if another hour would better
Accord with your will, they will make it theirs.
Doge. To me all hours are like. Let them approach.
[Exit Attendant.
An Officer. Prince! I have done your bidding.
DogeWhat command?
Offi. A melancholy one — to call the attendance
Of — —
Doge. True — true — true: I crave your pardon. I
Begin to fail in apprehension, and
Wax very old — old almost as my years.
Till now I fought them off, but they begin 10
To overtake me.
Enter the Deputation, consisting of six of the Signory and the Chief of the Ten.
Noble men, your pleasure!
Chief of the Ten. In the first place, the Council doth condole
With the Doge on his late and private grief.
Doge. No more — no more of that.
Chief of the Ten.Will not the Duke
Accept the homage of respect?
Doge. I do
Accept it as ‘tis given — proceed.
Chief of the Ten.”The Ten,”
With a selected giunta from the Senate
Of twenty-five of the best born patricians,
Having deliberated on the state
Of the Republic, and the o’erwhelming cares 20
Which, at this moment, doubly must oppress
Your years, so long devoted to your Country,
Have judged it fitting, with all reverence,
Now to solicit from your wisdom (which
Upon reflection must accord in this),
The resignation of the ducal ring,
Which you have worn so long and venerably:
And to prove that they are not ungrateful, nor
Cold to your years and services, they add
An appanage of twenty hundred golden 30
Ducats, to make retirement not less splendid
Than should become a Sovereign’s retreat.
Doge. Did I hear rightly?
Chief of the Ten.Need I say again?
Doge. No. — Have you done?
Chief of the Ten.I have spoken. Twenty four
Hours are accorded you to give an answer.
Doge. I shall not need so many seconds.
Chief of the Ten.We
Will now retire.
Doge. Stay! four and twenty hours
Will alter
nothing which I have to say.
Chief of the Ten. Speak!
Doge. When I twice before reiterated
My wish to abdicate, it was refused me: 40
And not alone refused, but ye exacted
An oath from me that I would never more
Renew this instance. I have sworn to die
In full exertion of the functions, which
My Country called me here to exercise,
According to my honour and my conscience —
I cannot break my oath.
Chief of the Ten.Reduce us not
To the alternative of a decree,
Instead of your compliance.
Doge. Providence
Prolongs my days to prove and chasten me; 50
But ye have no right to reproach my length
Of days, since every hour has been the Country’s.
I am ready to lay down my life for her,
As I have laid down dearer things than life:
But for my dignity — I hold it of
The whole Republic: when the general will
Is manifest, then you shall all be answered.
Chief of the Ten. We grieve for such an answer; but it cannot
Avail you aught.
Doge. I can submit to all things,
But nothing will advance; no, not a moment. 60
What you decree — decree.
Chief of the Ten.With this, then, must we
Return to those who sent us?
Doge. You have heard me.
Chief of the Ten. With all due reverence we retire.
[Exeunt the Deputation, etc.
Enter an Attendant.
Att. My Lord,
The noble dame Marina craves an audience.
Doge. My time is hers.
Enter .
Mar. My Lord, if I intrude —
Perhaps you fain would be alone?
Doge. Alone!
Alone, come all the world around me, I
Am now and evermore. But we will bear it.
Mar. We will, and for the sake of those who are,
Endeavour — — Oh, my husband!
Doge. Give it way: 70
I cannot comfort thee.
Mar. He might have lived,
So formed for gentle privacy of life,
So loving, so beloved; the native of
Another land, and who so blest and blessing
As my poor Foscari? Nothing was wanting
Unto his happiness and mine save not
To be Venetian.
Doge. Or a Prince’s son.
Mar. Yes; all things which conduce to other men’s
Imperfect happiness or high ambition,
By some strange destiny, to him proved deadly. 80
The Country and the People whom he loved,
The Prince of whom he was the elder born,
And — —
Doge. Soon may be a Prince no longer.
Mar. How?
Doge. They have taken my son from me, and now aim
At my too long worn diadem and ring.
Let them resume the gewgaws!