No More Learning

_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.




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.