Answer, slave! How long Leave that, save fraught with fire unquenchable,
To the new comers. Frame the whole as if
'T were to enkindle the strong tower of our
Inveterate enemies. Now it bears an aspect!
How say you, Pania, will this pile suffice
For a king's obsequies?
Have slaves decided on the doom of kings?
Her. Since they were free.
Sar.
Mouthpiece of mutiny!
Thou at the least shalt learn the penalty
Of treason, though its proxy only. Pania!
Let his head be thrown from our walls within
The rebels' lines, his carcass down the river.
Away with him!
[Pania and the Guards seizing him.
Pan.
I never yet obey'd
Your orders with more pleasure than the present.
Hence with him, soldiers! do not soil this hall
Of royalty with treasonable gore;
Put him to rest without.
At the same peril, if refused, as now
Incurr'd by my obedience.
New monarchs of an hour's growth as despotic
As sovereigns swathed in purple, and enthroned
From birth to manhood!
Her.
My life waits your breath.
Yours (I speak humbly)-but it may be-yours
May also be in danger scarce less imminent:
Would it then suit the last hours of a line
Such as is that of Nimrod, to destroy
A peaceful herald, unarm'd, in his office;
And violate not only all that man
Holds sacred between man and man-but that
More holy tie which links us with the gods?
Ay, for a kingdom's.
And blame me?
Let me but fire the pile, and share it with you.
Myr. That duty 's mine.
Part to die for his sovereign, and why not
The woman's with her lover?
Myr. But not so rare, my Pania, as thou think'st
Thy vow:-'t is sacred and irrevocable.
Pan. Since it is so, farewell.
Sar.
Search well my chamber,
Feel no remorse at bearing off the gold;
Remember, what you leave you leave the slaves
Who slew me: and when you have borne away
All safe off to your boats, blow one long blast
Sar. He's right.-Let him go free.-My life 's Upon the trumpet as you quit the palace.
At Babylon.
At least from thence he will depart to meet me.
Her. I shall obey you to the letter. [Exit Herald.
Sar.
Pania!-
Now, my good Pania !-quick-with what I order'd.
Pan. My lord,-the soldiers are already charged.
And, see! they enter.
[Soldiers enter, and form a Pile about the
Throne, etc.
Sar.
Higher, my good soldiers,
And thicker yet; and see that the foundation
Be such as will not speedily exhaust
Its own too subtle flame; nor yet be quench'd
With aught officious aid would bring to quell it.
Let the throne form the core of it; I would not
And clog the last sad sands of life with tears.
Hence, and be happy: trust me, I am not
Now to be pitied; or far more for what
Is past than present;-for the future, 't is
In the hands of the deities, if such
There be I shall know soon. Farewell-Farewell.
[Exeunt Pania and Soldiers.
Myr. These men were honest: it is comfort still
That our last looks should be on loving faces.
Sar. And lovely ones, my beautiful!-but hear me!
If at this moment,-for we now are on
The brink,-thou feel'st an inward shrinking from
This leap through flame into the future, say it :
I shall not love thee less; nay, perhaps more,
For yielding to thy nature; and there 's time
Yet for thee to escape hence.
Myr.
Shall I light
One of the torches which lie heap'd beneath
The ever-burning lamp that burns without,
Before Baal's shrine, in the adjoining hall?
Sar. Do so. Is that thy answer? Myr.
Thou shalt see. [Exit Myrrha. Sar. (solus). She's firm. My fathers! whom I will rejoin,
It may be, purified by death from some
Of the gross stains of too material being,
I would not leave your ancient first abode
To the defilement of usurping bondmen;
If I have not kept your inheritance
As ye bequeath'd it, this bright part of it,
Your treasure, your abode, your sacred relics
Of arms and records, monuments and spoils,
In which they would have revell'd, I bear with me
To you in that absorbing element,
Which most personifies the soul as leaving
The least of matter unconsumed before
Its fiery workings:-and the light of this
Most royal of funereal pyres shall be
Not a mere pillar form'd of cloud and flame,
A beacon in the horizon for a day,
And then a mount of ashes, but a light
To lesson ages, rebel nations, and
Rather let them be borne abroad upon
Voluptuous princes. Time shall quench full many The winds of heaven, and scatter'd into air,
A people's records, and a hero's acts;
Sweep empire after empire, like this first
Of empires, into nothing; but even then
Shall spare this deed of mine, and hold it up
A problem few dare imitate, and none
Despise-but, it may be, avoid the life
Which led to such a consummation.
Myrrha returns with a lighted Torch in one Hand, and a Cup in the other.
I've lit the lamp which lights us to the stars.
Sar. And the cup?
Myr.
Than be polluted more by human hands
Of slaves and traitors. In this blazing palace,
And its enormous walls of reeking ruin,
We leave a nobler monument than Egypt
Hath piled in her brick mountains, o'er dead kings,
Or kine, for none know whether those proud piles
Be for their monarch, or their ox-god Apis:
So much for monuments that have forgotten
Their very record!
Then farewell, thou earth!
And loveliest spot of earth! farewell, Ionia!
Be thou still free and beautiful, and far
Aloof from desolation! My last prayer
'Tis my country's custom to Was for thee, my last thoughts, save one, were of
Make a libation to the gods. Sar.
To make libations amongst men. I've not
Forgot the custom; and although alone,
Will drain one draught in memory of many
A joyous banquet past.
[Sardanapalus takes the cup, and after drink-
ing and tinkling the reversed cup, as a drop
falls, exclaims-
[The trumpet of Pania sounds without.
[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 follow'd long
Thy path of desolation, as the wave
Sweeps after that before it, alike whelming
The wreck that creaks to the wild winds, and wretch
Who shrieks within its riven ribs, as gush
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;
This is the first.
Guard.
And might be last, did they
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,"
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.
Bar. To balance such a foe, if such there be,
Thy father sits amongst thy judges.
Jac. Fos.
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
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 transgress'd my duty
In this brief parley, and must now redeem it
Within the Council Chamber. [Exit Barbarigo.
[Guard conducting Jacopo Foscari to the window.
Guard.
There, sir, 't is
Open-how feel you?
Jac. Fos.
Guard. And your limbs ?
Jac. Fos. Limbs! how often have they borne me Bounding o'er yon blue tide, as I have skimm'd 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,
Plebeian as patrician, cheer'd 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 roughen'd; with a swimmer's stroke
Flinging the billows back from my drench'd hair,
And laughing from my lip the audacious brine,
Which kiss'd it like a wine-cup, rising o'er
The waves as they arose, and prouder still
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 wax'd fearful; then
Returning with my grasp full of such tokens
As show'd that I had search'd the deep: exulting,
With a far-dashing stroke, and drawing deep
The long-suspended breath, again I spurn'd
The foam which broke around me, and pursued
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 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 howl'd about my Candiote dungeon, and
Made my heart sick!
Guard.
I see the color comes
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.
And the rack will be spared you.
Jac. Fos.
I confess'd
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 birthplace: better
Be ashes here than aught that lives elsewhere.
Guard. And can you so much love the soil which
hates you?
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. Ay, I am used to such a summons: 't is The third time they have tortured me;-then lend
[To the Guard.
Take mine, sir; 't is my duty to
Be nearest to your person.
Jac. Fos.
You!-you are he
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 't is issued. As
I look upon thy hands, my curdling limbs
Quiver with the anticipated wrenching,
And the cold drops strain through my brow, as if—
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 unnumber'd
Judged and destroy'd in silence,-all things wear
The self-same aspect, to my very sire!
Nothing can sympathize 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.
In heaven. I pray you, signor 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?
There now would be no Venice. But let it
And that is much; the secrets Live on, so the good die not, till the hour
Of yon terrific chamber are as hidden
From us, the premier nobles of the state,
As from the people.
Sen.
Save the wonted rumors,
Which-like the tales of spectres, that are rife
Near ruin'd buildings-never have been proved,
Nor wholly disbelieved: men know as little
Of the state's real acts as of the grave's
Unfathom'd mysteries.
But with length of time
We gain a step in knowledge, and I look
Forward to be one day of the decemvirs.
Why, no; not if I can avoid it.
Sen. 'Tis the first station of the state, and may
Be lawfully desired, and lawfully
Attain'd by noble aspirants.
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.
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.
Mar. His voice! it seem'd 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,
Though they sweep both the Doge and son from
life;
Mar. What, no one ?—I am wrong, there still are I have endured as much in giving life
the Bucentaur came out in its splendor; and a bridge of boats was thrown across the Canal Grande for the bridegroom, and his retinue of three hundred horse. According to Sanuto, the tournaments in the place of St. Mark lasted
On the occasion of her marriage with the younger Foscari, three days, and were attended by thirty thousand people.
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