The Works of Mary Russell Mitford

Doge. Sforza says here, this Brescian victory Was gained by thee. Zeno, read there-just there. Fos. Here is the treaty, Doge, already signed By Milan, Sforza, and myself; add thou Thy venerable name, Doge Foscari. So-having crowned a long and glorious reign With glorious peace, let me, thy son, pluck off This envied bonnet from thy honoured head. Wear it the worthiest! Never will it clip Within its golden circlet such high thoughts, Such a brave love of freedom, such a warm And generous faith in man. Proud lords of Venice, Ye ne'er deserved him. My good sword, lie there! I am no more your general. Pass we forth Together, my dear father, private menRich in the only wealth the world can give, A spotless name.

Thanks! Thanks! Now dare I look upon that reverend face, And grasp this hand again. Fos.

Did we not know thee! Doge. Senators, countrymen, at your behest

I wear once more the crown.
Fos.

Bear not again that burthen.

Oh, no! no! no!

My Francesco,

Doge.
Take up thy sword again, thy knightly sword—

I am too proud of thee!-thy stainless sword!
Now, good my lords, our fellow-citizens

Must be made happy in this glorious tale.

First to proclaim the peace; then, with meek hearts
Lowlily, with a steadfast thankfulness

Pour out our homage to the Lord of Peace
In his own temple. This high duty o'er,

I bid ye to the palace; we must grace
Our soldier with some revelry. Donato,
Thou wilt be there, and Cosmo-will ye not?
And our Camilla, lady of the feast,

And of the heart. Come to us, dear Donato.
Eriz. (apart to Don.) Are all his taunts forgotten?
Don.
No! I cannot.
Doge. Think better of it, Zeno!-Follow soon,
Francesco!-Zeno, is this storm the end

Of our dark prophecy?

Floats on the breeze like music. I am here-
Divided from her but by envious walls,
Clouds that conceal my sun. Had'st thou but seen
How I urged on my mettled courser's speed,
My matchless Barbary horse, till his pure jet
Was pounced with snowy flakes; or how I strove
To graft my hot impatience on the dull
And sluggish boatmen: or with what a stroke
I cleft the water: or how leapt ashore-
Cos. I can believe 't-
Fos.

By one half hour her presence! And to bear
This longing till to-morrow! Thou must say
All this and more, much more, of love and hope
And fond impatience. Tell her

Cos.

Thou thyself

SCENE II.

A Room in the Erizzo Palace.

Count Erizzo entering.

Eriz. Seek Signor Celso.-Baffled, spurned, con-
temned,

Pardoned-the insolent! But he shall feel-
All lost! For old Donato, shallow fool,
Hath in his anger a relenting spirit,

That I might sooner gain And will yield easy way at the first tear
The fair Camilla sheds-the very first!
She has but to cry Father, and to hang
About his neck, and his light wrath will melt
Like snowflakes in that rain. How the dull Senate
Cowered at the haughty soldier's feet! Even I—
Thinks he I too can pardon! He shall find
My hate immortal. Nothing stands between
Me and the crown but Foscari. To-night-
This Celso, as I have good cause to know,
Can wield a dagger well-to-night he goes
To meet his lady love-to-night-alone-
I can detain young Cosmo.

Shalt tell her these sweet things, mixed with a world
Of lovers' eloquence, of looks and sighs,
And broken words. Ay, Foscari, thou thyself!
Fos. But how? Where? When?
Cos.
To-night. For one short hour
Steal from the feast its hero. My good father,
Who, like a bird, fore-runs the summer sun,
Seeks his nest early. Thou may'st ask for me
And find Camilla.

Enter Celso.

Celso, friend,

Thou comest at a wish. Where hast thou been?
Cel. Where I am stunned with shouts of Foscari,
And dazzled with the glare of tinselled gauds
Hung out to honour him. The palaces
Are clothed with tissues, velvets, cloths of gold
And richer tapestry. The canals all strewed
With floating flowers, through which dark gondolas
Dart as through some bright garden. All is lost,
And I must leave dear Venice. Count, farewell!
Eriz. Why must thou go?

Cel.
Ask my hard creditors.
Eriz. Celso, I have a thousand ducats here
For him that rids me of a clinging plague.
Cel. A thousand ducats!
Eriz.

Hast thou still thy dagger? |
In, and I'll tell thee more. This very night!

[Exeunt.

Cos.

י'ן

Cam.

Foscari, father? [Exit.

Not a word.

Yet how kind,

Lau. Something works in him deeply.
Cam.

How exquisitely fond! Cosmo must know,
And, Laura, Cosmo never flies from thee,
And thou may'st ask-

Lau.
I will, I will, sweet coz!
Look, dearest, at the glancing gondolas
Shooting along, each with its little light,
Like stars upon the water. Whither go they?
Cam. To the proud Ducal Palace, where they hold
High feasting in his honour. There the dance,
And the quaint masque, and music's softer strains
Minister to his praises.

Where thou art not I keep no count of place,

Nor time, nor speech, nor act.

Cam.

Yet tell me where.

Fos. Where I have dreamt of courts and camps

and fields

Of glorious battle. A long weary dream

To him, who loves to bask him in thy smiles, And live upon thy words.

Cam.

Ten weary hours to-day.

Fos.

Yet hast thou lost

Why this, indeed, I have been

Is chiding, my Camilla.
At the Palace, at the Senate hall, at Church,
Have undergone a grand procession, love,
And a long dreary feast.

To visit my heart's treasure by that light
When misers seek their buried hoards; to steal
Upon the loved one, like a mermaid's song,
Unseen and floating between sea and sky;
To creep upon her in love's loveliest hour,
Not in her daylight beauty with the glare
Of the bright sun around her, but thus pure
And white and delicate, under the cool moon
Or lamp of alabaster. Thus I love

Dost thou not know the strain, the wandering strain, To think of thee, Camilla; thus with flowers

Trembling and floating like a spirit's song,

With many a-Hark again!-"Tis he! 'tis he!
That air belongs to him even as a name;

It thrills my very heart. Am I not pale

Lau. No; the bright blood floats trembling in thy cheek,

Most like that wandering music.

About thee and fresh air, and such a light, And such a stillness; thus I dream of thee, Sleeping or waking.

Cam. Dost thou dream of me? Fos. Do I without that lovely mockery, That sweet unreal joy, how could I live When we are parted? Do I dream of thee!

Dearest, what ails thee? Thou art not to-night
As thou art wont, thine eyes avoid my gaze,
Thy white hand trembles and turns cold in mine.
What ails thee, dearest? Hast thou heard-What
fear

Disturbs thee thus, Camilla?

Cam.
I will tell thee.
Cosmo is absent; my dear father grieved;
There is high feasting in thy princely home,
And I not there; and thou not here till now,
At midnight, when my father sleeps, and Cosmo
Is still away. Are ye all friends? Say, Foscari,
The very truth.

Fos.
Well! Thou shalt hear the truth.
Cheer thee! "T is nought to weep for. At the Senate
There were to-day some hasty words.—Erizzo,
Thy subtle kinsman, he was most to blame-
I was too hot, too rash; but I implored
Donato's pardon, and am half forgiven;
Though yielding to the crafty Count, he shunned
To sup with us to-night.

But we do miss her.
My pretty gentle Laura!

Fos.

"Twas a saucy thought,

She is grown.

Cam. Yes, tall and beautiful and rarely good.
Oh 't is the kindest heart! We think she'll make-
What is that noise?

Fos.
Nothing. A distant door.
What startles thee, Camilla?

My own heart.

Cam.
Hark how it beats, painfully, fearfully!

Hush! hush! Again that noise!

Fos.

"Tis thunder, love,

Fos. Well, I go. But my Camilla-
Cam.

Fos. Dearest, farewell!
Cam.

Go!

Not that way! That! there! there!
Leap from the window in the corridor,
From the low balcony!

Fos.
Cam.

That he is gone. Fear hath so mastered me
I stumble on the level floor. Thank heaven
They are both safe, my dearest Foscari,
My dearest father! There's no danger now;
And yet the night grows wilder. What a flash!
And I have sent him forth into the storm,

I, that so love him! I have sent him forth
Into this awful storm! Protect him, Heaven!
I thought I heard the window-Can those steps
Be his?

Don. (without.) Help! help! base traitor! Foscari!
Murder!

Enter Laura.

Lau. What's that?
Cam.

Undo the door-I cannot

Undo the door! My father!

Lau. (behind the scenes.) Who hath done
This horrible deed?

[Exeunt.

Cam. (behind the scenes.) My father! murder! murder!

SCENE II.

An illuminated Hall in the Ducal Palace.

Doge, Count Zeno, Ladies and Gentlemen.

Doge. Now for some stirring air to wake the spirits
Of mirth and motion. Sweet ones, to the dance!
Where is this Foscari? Gentles, in my youth
He had been held a recreant that forsook
The revel, and the light of ladies' eyes,
And play of twinkling feet. Degenerate boy!
Gent. Degenerate days! Ah! we could tell such
tales

And that hath stirred thy spirits. Cheer thee, dearest; Of the deep merriment, the gorgeous banquet,

The high festivity of our old time!

To mingle there myself. What ails the music?
Quicker! Why break they off? Dear Zeno, ask.
Fos. Murdered! Impossible! I only left-
I am myself-It cannot be.

Thou may'st smile, Zeno, but his Highness knows
Bright mirth is on the wane. Our puny sons
Show but faint flashes of their fathers' fire.
Zeno. Believe him not, fair maids! "Tis but the On with the dance!

Is that to aid thy cause!
We were fine gallants.
That all are welcomed. Where's thy sister, Melfi?
2d Gent. Not yet returned from Rome.
Doge.

Gent.

Play on!

Here is a man hath seen him,

Eriz.

Canst thou ask that? Donato. Doge. Donato murdered! the beloved Donato!

I would have had The second name of Venice! Mine old friend!

All the fair stars of Venice here to-night

Shining in one bright galaxy.

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Hearken, Doge! His voice hath mockery in it, sharp and loud As the clear ring of metals: he speaks not As we, who heard the tale, in broken words And breathless; his teeth chatter not; his lips Are firm; there is no trembling in his limbs, No glare in his keen eyes. None but a fiend, Fresh from the reek of murder, could so master The human sympathy, the fellowship

Doge. Well; we must keep such coil of merriment Of Nature and of kind.

Fos. Ay, truly, Zeno. Zeno. Whither hast thou been? Watching her lattice but to catch a glimpse Of the swift slender shadow that glides past So gracefully, clouding the soft dim light? Fos. Pooh! Pooh! Zeno. And with a true devotion bent Uncovered at her shrine? Why thou art wet! This is some new device of gallantry, Some trick of Milan courtship.

For equal justice!
Doge.

Am I not thine?

Cos. Friend! the word chokes me.

Grief hath turned his brain.

Fos.
Doge. Thou shalt have justice.
Cos.

"T is no midnight thief, No hired assassin, no poor petty villain ;— This is a fall as of a morning star,

A death such as the first great slayer saw
When Abel lay at his feet,-but I'll have justice!
There be hearts here will crack, old valiant hearts,
When they shall hear this tale,-but I'll have justice!
Doge. Go some one call the guard. [Exit Erizzo.
Name the assassin.
Cos. Have I not? Whither doth he fly!

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