No More Learning

_ 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.




ACT II.

SCENE I. --_A hall in the_ DOGE'S _Palace_.

_The_ DOGE _and a Senator_.

_Sen. _ Is it your pleasure to sign the report
Now, or postpone it till to-morrow?

_Doge_. Now;
I overlooked it yesterday: it wants
Merely the signature. Give me the pen--
[_The_ DOGE _sits down and signs the paper_.
There, Signor.

_Sen. _ (_looking at the paper_). You have forgot; it is not signed.

_Doge_. Not signed? Ah, I perceive my eyes begin
To wax more weak with age. I did not see
That I had dipped the pen without effect. [bb]

_Sen. _ (_dipping the pen into the ink, and placing the paper
before the_ DOGE). Your hand, too, shakes, my Lord: allow me, thus--

_Doge_. 'Tis done, I thank you.

_Sen. _ Thus the act confirmed 10
By you and by "the Ten" gives peace to Venice.

_Doge_. 'Tis long since she enjoyed it: may it be
As long ere she resume her arms!

_Sen. _ 'Tis almost
Thirty-four years of nearly ceaseless warfare
With the Turk, or the powers of Italy;
The state had need of some repose.

_Doge_. No doubt:
I found her Queen of Ocean, and I leave her
Lady of Lombardy; it is a comfort[bc]
That I have added to her diadem
The gems of Brescia and Ravenna; Crema[50] 20
And Bergamo no less are hers; her realm
By land has grown by thus much in my reign,
While her sea-sway has not shrunk.

_Sen. _ 'Tis most true,
And merits all our country's gratitude.

_Doge_. Perhaps so.

_Sen. _ Which should be made manifest.

_Doge_. I have not complained, sir.

_Sen. _ My good Lord, forgive me.

_Doge_. For what?

_Sen. _ My heart bleeds for you.

_Doge_. For me, Signor?

_Sen. _ And for your----

_Doge_. Stop!

_Sen. _ It must have way, my Lord:
I have too many duties towards you
And all your house, for past and present kindness, 30
Not to feel deeply for your son.

_Doge_. Was this
In your commission?

_Sen. _ What, my Lord?

_Doge_. This prattle
Of things you know not: but the treaty's signed;
Return with it to them who sent you.

_Sen. _ I
Obey. I had in charge, too, from the Council,
That you would fix an hour for their reunion.

_Doge_. Say, when they will--now, even at this moment,
If it so please them: I am the State's servant.

_Sen. _ They would accord some time for your repose.

_Doge_. I have no repose, that is, none which shall cause 40
The loss of an hour's time unto the State.
Let them meet when they will, I shall be found
_Where_ I should be, and _what_ I have been ever.
[_Exit Senator. The_ DOGE _remains in silence_.

_Enter an Attendant_.

_Att. _ Prince!

_Doge_. Say on.

_Att. _ The illustrious lady Foscari
Requests an audience.

_Doge_. Bid her enter. Poor
Marina!
[_Exit Attendant. The_ DOGE _remains in silence as before_.

_Enter MARINA_.

_Mar. _ I have ventured, father, on
Your privacy.

_Doge_. I have none from you, my child.
Command my time, when not commanded by
The State.

_Mar. _ I wished to speak to you of _him_.

_Doge_. Your husband? 50

_Mar. _ And your son.

_Doge_. Proceed, my daughter!

_Mar. _ I had obtained permission from "the Ten"
To attend my husband for a limited number
Of hours.

_Doge_. You had so.

_Mar. _ 'Tis revoked.

_Doge_. By whom?

_Mar. _ "The Ten. "--When we had reached "the Bridge of Sighs,"[51]
Which I prepared to pass with Foscari,
The gloomy guardian of that passage first
Demurred: a messenger was sent back to
"The Ten;"--but as the Court no longer sate,
And no permission had been given in writing,
I was thrust back, with the assurance that 60
Until that high tribunal reassembled
The dungeon walls must still divide us.

_Doge_. True,
The form has been omitted in the haste
With which the court adjourned; and till it meets,
'Tis dubious.

_Mar. _ Till it meets! and when it meets,
They'll torture him again; and he and I
Must purchase by renewal of the rack
The interview of husband and of wife,
The holiest tie beneath the Heavens! --Oh God!
Dost thou see this?

_Doge_. Child--child----

_Mar. _ (_abruptly_). Call _me_ not "child! " 70
You soon will have no children--you deserve none--
You, who can talk thus calmly of a son
In circumstances which would call forth tears
Of blood from Spartans! Though these did not weep
Their boys who died in battle, is it written
That they beheld them perish piecemeal, nor
Stretched forth a hand to save them?

_Doge_. You behold me:
I cannot weep--I would I could; but if
Each white hair on this head were a young life,
This ducal cap the Diadem of earth, 80
This ducal ring with which I wed the waves
A talisman to still them--I'd give all
For him.

_Mar. _ With less he surely might be saved.

_Doge_. That answer only shows you know not Venice.
Alas! how should you? she knows not herself,
In all her mystery. Hear me--they who aim
At Foscari, aim no less at his father;
The sire's destruction would not save the son;
They work by different means to the same end,
And that is--but they have not conquered yet. 90

_Mar. _ But they have crushed.

_Doge_. Nor crushed as yet--I live.

_Mar. _ And your son,--how long will he live?

_Doge_. I trust,
For all that yet is past, as many years
And happier than his father. The rash boy,
With womanish impatience to return,
Hath ruined all by that detected letter:
A high crime, which I neither can deny
Nor palliate, as parent or as Duke:
Had he but borne a little, little longer
His Candiote exile, I had hopes--he has quenched them-- 100
He must return.

_Mar. _ To exile?

_Doge_. I have said it.

_Mar. _ And can I not go with him?

_Doge_. You well know
This prayer of yours was twice denied before
By the assembled "Ten," and hardly now
Will be accorded to a third request,
Since aggravated errors on the part
Of your Lord renders them still more austere.

_Mar. _ Austere? Atrocious! The old human fiends,
With one foot in the grave, with dim eyes, strange
To tears save drops of dotage, with long white[bd] 110
And scanty hairs, and shaking hands, and heads
As palsied as their hearts are hard, they counsel,
Cabal, and put men's lives out, as if Life
Were no more than the feelings long extinguished
In their accursed bosoms.

_Doge_. You know not----

_Mar. _ I do--I do--and so should you, methinks--
That these are demons: could it be else that
Men, who have been of women born and suckled--
Who have loved, or talked at least of Love--have given
Their hands in sacred vows--have danced their babes 120
Upon their knees, perhaps have mourned above them--
In pain, in peril, or in death--who are,
Or were, at least in seeming, human, could
Do as they have done by yours, and you yourself--
_You_, who abet them?

_Doge_. I forgive this, for
You know not what you say.

_Mar. _ _You_ know it well,
And feel it nothing.

_Doge_. I have borne so much,
That words have ceased to shake me.

_Mar. _ Oh, no doubt!
You have seen your son's blood flow, and your flesh shook not;
And after that, what are a woman's words? 130
No more than woman's tears, that they should shake you.

_Doge_. Woman, this clamorous grief of thine, I tell thee,
Is no more in the balance weighed with that
Which----but I pity thee, my poor Marina!

_Mar. _ Pity my husband, or I cast it from me;
Pity thy son! _Thou_ pity! --'tis a word
Strange to thy heart--how came it on thy lips?