Chapter 9

_Enter_ LOREDANO _and_ BARBARIGO, _meeting_.

_Lor._ WHERE is the prisoner?

_Bar._ Reposing from The Question.

_Lor._ The hour's past--fixed yesterday For the resumption of his trial.--Let us Rejoin our colleagues in the council, and Urge his recall.

_Bar._ 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.[at][37]

_Lor._ Well?

_Bar._ I yield not to you in love of justice, Or hate of the ambitious Foscari, 10 Father and son, and all their noxious race; But the poor wretch has suffered beyond Nature's Most stoical endurance.

_Lor._ Without owning His crime?

_Bar._ Perhaps without committing any. But he avowed the letter to the Duke Of Milan, and his sufferings half atone for Such weakness.

_Lor._ We shall see.

_Bar._ You, Loredano, Pursue hereditary hate too far.

_Lor._ How far?

_Bar._ To extermination.

_Lor._ When they are Extinct, you may say this.--Let's in to council. 20

_Bar._ Yet pause--the number of our colleagues is not Complete yet; two are wanting ere we can Proceed.

_Lor._ And the chief judge, the Doge?

_Bar._ No--he, With more than Roman fortitude, is ever First at the board in this unhappy process Against his last and only son.[38]

_Lor._ True--true-- His _last_.

_Bar._ Will nothing move you?

_Lor._ _Feels he_, think you?

_Bar._ He shows it not.

_Lor._ I have marked _that_--the wretch!

_Bar._ But yesterday, I hear, on his return To the ducal chambers, as he passed the threshold 30 The old man fainted.

_Lor._ It begins to work, then.

_Bar._ The work is half your own.

_Lor._ And should be _all_ mine-- My father and my uncle are no more.

_Bar._ I have read their epitaph, which says they died By poison.[39]

_Lor._ When the Doge declared that he Should never deem himself a sovereign till The death of Peter Loredano, both The brothers sickened shortly:--he _is_ Sovereign.

_Bar._ A wretched one.

_Lor._ What should they be who make Orphans?

_Bar._ But _did_ the Doge make you so?

_Lor._ Yes. 40

_Bar._ What solid proofs?

_Lor._ When Princes set themselves To work in secret, proofs and process are Alike made difficult; but I have such Of the first, as shall make the second needless.

_Bar._ But you will move by law?

_Lor._ By all the laws Which he would leave us.

_Bar._ They are such in this Our state as render retribution easier Than 'mongst remoter nations. Is it true That you have written in your books of commerce, (The wealthy practice of our highest nobles) 50 "Doge Foscari, my debtor for the deaths Of Marco and Pietro Loredano, My sire and uncle?"[40]

_Lor._ It is written thus.

_Bar._ And will you leave it unerased?

_Lor._ Till balanced.

_Bar._ And how?

[_Two Senators pass over the stage, as in their way to "the Hall of the Council of Ten."_

_Lor._ You see the number is complete. Follow me. [_Exit_ LOREDANO.

_Bar._ (_solus_). Follow _thee_! I have followed long Thy path of desolation, as the wave Sweeps after that before it, alike whelming[au] The wreck that creaks to the wild winds, and wretch Who shrieks within its riven ribs, as gush 60 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 I 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, etc._

_Guard_. Let him rest. Signor, take time.

_Jac. Fos._ I thank thee, friend, I'm feeble; But thou mayst stand reproved.

_Guard_. I'll stand the hazard.

_Jac. Fos._ That's kind:--I meet some pity, but no mercy;[av] 70 This is the first.

_Guard_. And might be the last, did they Who rule behold us.

_Bar._ (_advancing to the Guard_). There is one who does: 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,"[41] 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!

_Jac. Fos._ What voice is that?--'Tis Barbarigo's! Ah! Our House's foe, and one of my few judges. 80

_Bar._ To balance such a foe, if such there be, Thy father sits amongst thy judges.

_Jac. Fos._ True, He judges.

_Bar._ Then deem not the laws too harsh Which yield so much indulgence to a sire, As to allow his voice in such high matter As the state's safety--

_Jac. Fos._ And his son's. I'm faint; Let me approach, I pray you, for a breath Of air, yon window which o'erlooks the waters.

_Enter an Officer, who whispers_ BARBARIGO.

_Bar._ (to the Guard). Let him approach. I must not speak with him Further than thus: I have transgressed my duty 90 In this brief parley, and must now redeem it[aw] Within the Council Chamber. [_Exit_ BARBARIGO.

[_Guard conducting_ JACOPO FOSCARI _to the window_.

_Guard_. There, sir, 'tis Open.--How feel you?

_Jac. Fos._ Like a boy--Oh Venice!

_Guard_. And your limbs?

_Jac. Fos._ Limbs! how often have they borne me[42] Bounding o'er yon blue tide, as I have skimmed 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, 100 Plebeian as patrician, cheered us on With dazzling smiles, and wishes audible, And waving kerchiefs, and applauding hands, Even to the goal!--How many a time have I Cloven with arm still lustier, breast more daring, The wave all roughened; with a swimmer's stroke Flinging the billows back from my drenched hair, And laughing from my lip the audacious brine, Which kissed it like a wine-cup, rising o'er The waves as they arose, and prouder still 110 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 waxed fearful; then Returning with my grasp full of such tokens As showed that I had searched the deep: exulting, With a far-dashing stroke, and, drawing deep The long-suspended breath, again I spurned The foam which broke around me, and pursued 120 My track like a sea-bird.--I was a boy then.

_Guard_. Be a man now: there never was more need Of manhood's strength.

_Jac. Fos._ (_looking from the lattice_). My beautiful, my own, My only Venice--_this is breath_! Thy breeze, Thine Adrian sea-breeze, how it fans my face! Thy very winds feel native to my veins, And cool them into calmness! How unlike The hot gales of the horrid Cyclades, Which howled about my Candiote dungeon,[43] and Made my heart sick.

_Guard_. I see the colour comes[ax] 130 Back to your cheek: Heaven send you strength to bear What more may be imposed!--I dread to think on't.

_Jac. Fos._ They will not banish me again?--No--no, Let them wring on; I am strong yet.

_Guard_. Confess, And the rack will be spared you.

_Jac. Fos._ I confessed Once--twice before: both times they exiled me.

_Guard_. And the third time will slay you.

_Jac. Fos._ 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? 140

_Jac. Fos._ 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_.

_Offi._ Bring in the prisoner!

_Guard_. Signor, you hear the order.

_Jac. Fos._ Aye, I am used to such a summons; 'tis The third time they have tortured me:--then lend me Thine arm. [_To the Guard_.

_Offi._ Take mine, sir; 'tis my duty to Be nearest to your person.

_Jac. Fos._ You!--you are he 150 Who yesterday presided o'er my pangs-- Away!--I'll walk alone.

_Offi._ As you please, Signor; The sentence was not of my signing, but I dared not disobey the Council when They----

_Jac. Fos._ 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, 160 And the cold drops strain through my brow, as if---- But onward--I have borne it--I can bear it.-- How looks my father?

_Offi._ With his wonted aspect.

_Jac. Fos._ So does the earth, and sky, the blue of Ocean, The brightness of our city, and her domes, The mirth of her Piazza--even now Its merry hum of nations pierces here, Even here, into these chambers of the unknown Who govern, and the unknown and the unnumbered Judged and destroyed in silence,--all things wear 170 The self-same aspect, to my very sire! Nothing can sympathise with Foscari, Not even a Foscari.--Sir, I attend you. [_Exeunt_ JACOPO FOSCARI, _Officer, etc._

_Enter_ MEMMO _and another Senator_.

_Mem._ He's gone--we are too late:--think you "the Ten" Will sit for any length of time to-day?

_Sen._ They say the prisoner is most obdurate, Persisting in his first avowal; but More I know not.

_Mem._ And that is much; the secrets Of yon terrific chamber are as hidden From us, the premier nobles of the state, 180 As from the people.

_Sen._ Save the wonted rumours, Which--like the tales of spectres, that are rife Near ruined buildings--never have been proved, Nor wholly disbelieved: men know as little Of the state's real acts as of the grave's Unfathomed mysteries.

_Mem._ But with length of time We gain a step in knowledge, and I look Forward to be one day of the decemvirs.

_Sen._ Or Doge?

_Mem._ Why, no; not if I can avoid it.

_Sen._ 'Tis the first station of the state, and may 190 Be lawfully desired, and lawfully Attained by noble aspirants.

_Mem._ To such I leave it; though born noble, my ambition Is limited: I'd rather be an unit Of an united and Imperial "Ten," Than shine a lonely, though a gilded cipher.-- Whom have we here? the wife of Foscari?

_Enter_ MARINA, _with a female Attendant_.

_Mar._ What, no one?--I am wrong, there still are two; But they are senators.

_Mem._ Most noble lady, Command us.

_Mar._ _I command_!--Alas! my life 200 Has been one long entreaty, and a vain one.

_Mem._ I understand thee, but I must not answer.

_Mar._ (_fiercely_). True--none dare answer here save on the rack, Or question save those----

_Mem._ (_interrupting her_). High-born dame![44] bethink thee Where thou now art.

_Mar._ Where I now am!--It was My husband's father's palace.

_Mem._ The Duke's palace.

_Mar._ And his son's prison!--True, I have not forgot it; And, if there were no other nearer, bitterer Remembrances, would thank the illustrious Memmo For pointing out the pleasures of the place. 210

_Mem._ Be calm!

_Mar._ (_looking up towards heaven_). I am; but oh, thou eternal God! Canst _thou_ continue so, with such a world?

_Mem._ Thy husband yet may be absolved.

_Mar._ He is, In Heaven. I pray you, Signer 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_?

_Mem._ I trust not.

_Mar._ But if 220 He does not, there are those will sentence both.

_Mem._ They can.

_Mar._ And with them power and will are one In wickedness;--my husband's lost!

_Mem._ Not so; Justice is judge in Venice.

_Mar._ If it were so, There now would be no Venice. But let it Live on, so the good die not, till the hour Of Nature's summons; but "the Ten's" is quicker, And we must wait on't. Ah! a voice of wail! [_A faint cry within_.

_Sen._ Hark!

_Mem._ 'Twas a cry of--

_Mar._ No, no; not my husband's-- Not Foscari's.

_Mem._ The voice was--

_Mar._ _Not his_: no. 230 He shriek! No; that should be his father's part, Not his--not his--he'll die in silence. [_A faint groan again within_.

_Mem._ What! Again?

_Mar._ _His_ voice! it seemed so: I will not Believe it. Should he shrink, I cannot cease To love; but--no--no--no--it must have been A fearful pang, which wrung a groan from him.

_Sen._ And, feeling for thy husband's wrongs, wouldst thou Have him bear more than mortal pain in silence?

_Mar._ We all must bear our tortures. I have not Left barren the great house of Foscari, 240 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 shrieked, But did not; for my hope was to bring forth Heroes, and would not welcome them with tears.

_Mem._ All's silent now.

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

_Enter an Officer hastily_.

_Mem._ How now, friend, what seek you? 250

_Offi._ A leech. The prisoner has fainted. [_Exit Officer_.

_Mem._ Lady, 'Twere better to retire.

_Sen._ (_offering to assist her_), I pray thee do so.

_Mar._ Off! _I_ will tend him.

_Mem._ You! Remember, lady! Ingress is given to none within those chambers Except "the Ten," and their familiars.

_Mar._ Well, I know that none who enter there return As they have entered--many never; but They shall not balk my entrance.

_Mem._ Alas! this Is but to expose yourself to harsh repulse, And worse suspense.

_Mar._ Who shall oppose me?

_Mem._ They 260 Whose duty 'tis to do so.

_Mar._ '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.

_Mem._ It is impossible.

_Mar._ That shall be tried.[ay] Despair defies even despotism: there is That in my heart would make its way through hosts With levelled spears; and think you a few jailors Shall put me from my path? Give me, then, way; 270 This is the Doge's palace; I am wife Of the Duke's son, the _innocent_ Duke's son, And they shall hear this!

_Mem._ It will only serve More to exasperate his judges.

_Mar._ What Are _judges_ who give way to anger? they Who do so are assassins. Give me way. [_Exit_ MARINA.

_Sen._ Poor lady!

_Mem._ 'Tis mere desperation: she Will not be admitted o'er the threshold.

_Sen._ And Even if she be so, cannot save her husband. But, see, the officer returns. [_The Officer passes over the stage with another person_.

_Mem._ I hardly 280 Thought that "the Ten" had even this touch of pity, Or would permit assistance to this sufferer.

_Sen._ Pity! Is't pity to recall to feeling The wretch too happy to escape to Death By the compassionate trance, poor Nature's last Resource against the tyranny of pain?

_Mem._ I marvel they condemn him not at once.

_Sen._ 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, 290 To him is one wide prison, and each breath Of foreign air he draws seems a slow poison, Consuming but not killing.

_Mem._ Circumstance Confirms his crimes, but he avows them not.

_Sen._ None, save the Letter, which, he says, was written Addressed to Milan's duke, in the full knowledge That it would fall into the Senate's hands, And thus he should be re-conveyed to Venice.[45]

_Mem._ But as a culprit.

_Sen._ Yes, but to his country; And that was all he sought,--so he avouches. 300

_Mem._ The accusation of the bribes was proved.

_Sen._ Not clearly, and the charge of homicide Has been annulled by the death-bed confession Of Nicolas Erizzo, who slew the late Chief of "the Ten."[46]

_Mem._ Then why not clear him?

_Sen._ That They ought to answer; for it is well known That Almoro Donato, as I said, Was slain by Erizzo for private vengeance.

_Mem._ There must be more in this strange process than The apparent crimes of the accused disclose-- 310 But here come two of "the Ten;" let us retire. [_Exeunt_ MEMMO _and Senator_.

_Enter_ LOREDANO _and_ BARBARIGO.

_Bar._ (_addressing_ LOR.). That were too much: believe me, 'twas not meet The trial should go further at this moment.

_Lor._ And so the Council must break up, and Justice Pause in her full career, because a woman Breaks in on our deliberations?

_Bar._ No, That's not the cause; you saw the prisoner's state.

_Lor._ And had he not recovered?

_Bar._ To relapse Upon the least renewal.

_Lor._ 'Twas not tried.

_Bar._ 'Tis vain to murmur; the majority 320 In council were against you.

_Lor._ Thanks to _you_, sir, And the old ducal dotard, who combined The worthy voices which o'er-ruled my own.

_Bar._ I am a judge; but must confess that part Of our stern duty, which prescribes the Question,[47] And bids us sit and see its sharp infliction, Makes me wish--

_Lor._ What?

_Bar._ That _you_ would _sometimes_ feel, As I do always.

_Lor._ Go to, you're a child, Infirm of feeling as of purpose, blown About by every breath, shook[48] by a sigh, 330 And melted by a tear--a precious judge For Venice! and a worthy statesman to Be partner in my policy.

_Bar._ He shed No tears.

_Lor._ He cried out twice.

_Bar._ A Saint had done so, Even with the crown of Glory in his eye, At such inhuman artifice of pain As was forced on him; but he did not cry[az] For pity; not a word nor groan escaped him, And those two shrieks were not in supplication, But wrung from pangs, and followed by no prayers. 340

_Lor._ He muttered many times between his teeth, But inarticulately.[49]

_Bar._ That I heard not: You stood more near him.

_Lor._ I did so.

_Bar._ Methought, To my surprise too, you were touched with mercy, And were the first to call out for assistance When he was failing.

_Lor._ I believed that swoon His last.

_Bar._ And have I not oft heard thee name His and his father's death your nearest wish?

_Lor._ If he dies innocent, that is to say, With his guilt unavowed, he'll be lamented. 350

_Bar._ What, wouldst thou slay his memory?

_Lor._ Wouldst thou have His state descend to his children, as it must, If he die unattainted?

_Bar._ War with _them_ too?

_Lor._ With all their house, till theirs or mine are nothing.

_Bar._ And the deep agony of his pale wife, And the repressed convulsion of the high And princely brow of his old father, which Broke forth in a slight shuddering, though rarely, Or in some clammy drops, soon wiped away In stern serenity; these moved you not? 360 [_Exit_ LOREDANO. He's silent in his hate, as Foscari Was in his suffering; and the poor wretch moved me More by his silence than a thousand outcries Could have effected. 'Twas a dreadful sight When his distracted wife broke through into The hall of our tribunal, and beheld What we could scarcely look upon, long used To such sights. I must think no more of this, Lest I forget in this compassion for Our foes, their former injuries, and lose 370 The hold of vengeance Loredano plans For him and me; but mine would be content With lesser retribution than he thirsts for, And I would mitigate his deeper hatred To milder thoughts; but, for the present, Foscari Has a short hourly respite, granted at The instance of the elders of the Council, Moved doubtless by his wife's appearance in The hall, and his own sufferings.--Lo! they come: How feeble and forlorn! I cannot bear 380 To look on them again in this extremity: I'll hence, and try to soften Loredano.[ba] [_Exit_ BARBARIGO.