Who dreaded to elect me, and have since As would have made you nothing. But in all things Not for the laws alone, for those you have strain'd (I do not speak of you but as a single Voice of the many) somewhat beyond what I could enforce for my authority, Were I disposed to brawl; but, as I said, I have observed with veneration, like The health, the pride, and welfare of the state. And mask'd nobility, your sbirri, and Your spies, your galley and your other slaves, To whom your midnight carryings off and drownings, Mar. Thank God! At least they will not drag | Utter'd within these walls I bear no further And you, sir, not oppose my prayer to be Permitted to accompany my husband. Doge. I will endeavour. Doge. All things are so to mortals; who can read them Save he who made ? or, if they can, the few And gifted spirits, who have studied long Those black and bloody leaves, his heart and brain, 2 But learn a magic which recoils upon The adept who pursues it: all the sins With as we may, and least in humblest stations, Must sweat for his poor pittance, keeps all passions 2 Mar. These are things we cannot judge On earth. Doge. And how then shall we judge each other, Who are all earth, and I, who am call'd upon To judge my son? I have administer'd My country faithfully-victoriously I dare them to the proof, the chart of what She was and is: my reign has doubled realins; Mar. And Foscari? I do not think of such things, So I be left with him. But yet subdued the world: in such a state Such rank as is permitted, or the meanest, To one great end, must be maintain'd in vigour. Mar. This means that you are more a Doge than father. Doge. It means, I am more citizen than either. If we had not for many centuries Had thousands of such citizens, and shall, I trust, have still such, Venice were no city. Jac. Fos. (solus). No light, save yon faint gleam, which shows me walls Which never echo'd but to sorrow's sounds, For Venice but with such a yearning as The dove has for her distant nest, when wheeling The dates of their despair, the brief words of Which only can be read, as writ, by wretches. 2 Jac. Fos. And liberty? Mar. Thy life is safe. The mind should make its own. Jac. Fos. That has a noble sound; but 't is a sound, A music most impressive, but too transient: The mind is much, but is not all. The mind Hath nerved me to endure the risk of death, And torture positive, far worse than death (If death be a deep sleep), without a groan, Or with a cry which rather shamed my judges Than me; but 't is not all, for there are things More woful-such as this small dungeon, where I may breathe many years. My doom is common, many are in dungeons, after Giacopo had been tortured, he was removed to the Ducal apartments, not to one of the Pozzi; that his death occurred, not at Venice, but at Canea; that fifteen months elapsed between his last condemnation and his father's deposition; and that the death of the Doge took place, not at the palace, but in his own house. — Venet. Sketches, vol. ii. p. 105.] But that they never granted-nor will grant, I ask'd for even those outlines of their kind, Jac. Fos. Then my last hope's gone. I could endure my dungeon, for 't was Venice ; I could support the torture, there was something [Persons condemned to solitary confinement generally, we are assured, become either madmen or idiots, as mind or matter happens to predominate, when the mysterious balance between them is destroyed. But they who are subjected to such a dreadful punishment are generally, like most perpetrators of gross crimes, men of feeble internal resources. Men of talents, like Trenck, have been known, in the deepest seclusion, and most severe confinement, to battle the foul fiend melancholy, and to come off conquerors during a captivity of years. Those who suffer imprisonment for the sake of their country, or their religion, have yet a stronger support, and may exclaim, though in a different sense from that of Othello," It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul."— SIR WALTER SCOTT.] 2 In Lady Morgan's fearless and excellent work upon Italy, I perceive the expression of "Rome of the Ocean" applied to Venice. The same phrase occurs in the " Two Foscari." My publisher can vouch for me, that the tragedy was written and sent to England some time before I had seen Lady Morgan's work, which I only received on the 16th of August. I hasten, however, to notice the coincidence, and to yield the originality of the phrase to her who first placed it before the public. I am the more anxious to do this, as I am informed (for I have seen but few of the specimens, and those accidentally,) that there have been lately brought against me charges of plagiarism. [See post, note to the description of a ship. wreck, DON JUAN, C. ii. s. xxiv.] Had I gone forth From my own land, like the old patriarchs, secking Another region, with their flocks and herds; Had I been cast out like the Jews from Zion, Or like our fathers, driven by Attila From fertile Italy, to barren islets, I would have given some tears to my late country, A new home and fresh state: perhaps I could Wherefore not ? It was the lot of millions, and must be The fate of myriads more. Jac. Fos. Ay-we but hear Of the survivors' toil in their new lands, "So by a calenture misled The mariner with rapture sees In that fantastic scene, and thinks It must be some enchanted grove, And in he leaps, and down he sinks."- SWIFT.] 4 Alluding to the Swiss air and its effects. - [The Ranz des Vaches, played upon the bag-pipe by the young cowkeepers on the mountains:-" An air," says Rousseau," so dear to the Swiss, that it was forbidden, under the pain of death, to play it to the troops, as it immediately drew tears from them, and made those who heard it desert, or die of what is called la maladie du pais, so ardent a desire did it excite to return to their country. It is in vain to seek in this air for energetic accents capable of producing such astonish. ing effects, for which strangers are unable to account from the music, which is in itself uncouth and wild. But it is from habit, recollections, and a thousand circumstances, retraced in this tune by those natives who hear it, and reminding them of their country, former pleasures of their youth, and all their ways of living, which occasion a bitter reflection at having lost them."] I say, Mar. You shall be so no more-I will go with thee. I fear, by the prevention of the state's They, As threads, which may be broken at her pleasure,) Will not be suffer'd to proceed with us. Jac. Fos. And canst thou leave them? Mar. Yes. With many a pang. But I can leave them, children as they are, To teach you to be less a child. From this Learn you to sway your feelings, when exacted By duties paramount; and 't is our first On earth to bear. Jac. Fos. Mar. Have I not borne ? Too much Were far away from Venice, never saw Her beautiful towers in the receding distance, Seem'd ploughing deep into your heart; you never Of them and theirs, awoke and found them not. Mar. I will divide this with you. Let us think Of our departure from this much-loved city, (Since you must love it, as it seems,) and this Chamber of state, her gratitude allots you. Our children will be cared for by the Doge, And by my uncles: we must sail ere night. [father? Jac. Fos. That's sudden. Shall I not behold my Here, or in the ducal chamberI would that you could bear That of leaving If I am silent, Jac. Fos. Held in the bondage of ten bald-heads; and Enter LOREDANO, attended by Familiars. But leave the torch. Juc. Fos. Retire, [Exeunt the two Familiars. Most welcome, noble signor. I did not deem this poor place could have drawn The last, were all men's merits well rewarded. Lor. Neither are of my office, noble lady! I am sent hither to your husband, to Announce" the Ten's" decree. |