The Works of Lord Byron - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_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 n.o.bles) 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 pa.s.s 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 compet.i.tors, n.o.ble 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 l.u.s.tier, 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 gla.s.sy gulfs, and making My way to sh.e.l.ls 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-das.h.i.+ng 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.
