Speak not a word-thy name is pledge enough,
My son!
Eriz. Ye know your duty. Seize him, soldiers.
Fos. Approach me at your peril. Know you not
This very morning how yon serpent lay
Under my heel unbruised, a thing of scorn?
Look not upon us, lords, with doubting eyes,
Ye dare not doubt me-even to deny
Is in some sort a stain!-My shield is bright.
Ye force me to these vaunts! I could not think
A crime.
Eriz. Bear hence the murderer. (Aside.) Palsies
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Know not what that word means. I wait your pleasure. Cos. Doge! Doth he hear me? Once I could have wept
For such a grief, for him; now I am steeled
By merciless misery, made pitiless
By one that hath no pity. Look! he stands
With such a calm of virtue on his brow,
As if he would outface the all-seeing God
With that proud seeming. Foscari, the dead
Shall cry aloud in heaven, and I on earth,
Till vengeance overtake thee. Doge of Venice,
I call on thee for justice on thy son.
Fos. Father!-Oh, start not!—I am innocent.
Hear that, and breathe again. Sir, I commit
My life, my honour, the unsullied name
Of my great ancestors, of him the greatest,
My living father-even his name I trust
To my just cause, and the just laws of Venice.
Those lights! Those lights! They pierce my eye-balls, dart into my brain!
If there be any pity left i' the world,
Make me a darkness and a silence, Zeno,
That I may pray.
Lead to his chamber, Sirs.
SCENE I.
A Hall of Justice.
Cosmo, Erizzo, Senators, and Officers.
Eriz. Is all prepared for trial?
2d Sen. He comes. How different from his step of yesterday! How hurried, yet how slow!
Enter Doge and Count Zeno.
Zeno.
Your Highness.
Doge.
Zeno.
Support them.
Why will you torment me, Sir,
With this officious care? These flowers are nought.
Go bring me pungent herbs, hyssop and rue
And rosemary; odours that keep in sense-
I have forgot my handkerchief.
[Exeunt Foscari, guarded, Erizzo, and Cosmo. I thank thee! Now the weight is off my soul.
I sinned in my black fear. Where's the accuser?
Let him stand forth. Cosmo-Signor Donato,
Speak.
Eriz. Look with how calm and proud a mien
The murderer stands, whilst the poor son conceals
His face against the wall.
Speak, pr'ythee, speak.
We were friends
I loved him-
Cos. Alas! alas! I cannot.
Even from earliest childhood.
Oh how I loved him! Ay, and he loved me
With a protecting love, the firmest love;
For stronger, bolder, hardier, he to me
Was as an elder brother. And his home
Was mine, and mine was his-Oh he has sate
A hundred times on that dear father's knee,
His little head nestling against that breast,
Where now-Oh Foscari, had'st thou slain me,
My last word had been pardon! But my father,
And with a steadfast and unaltering cheek
To listen-
Yet, Heaven knows, I grieve
They shall come soon enough.
Donato, rouse thee! Look upon those wounds!
Think on the honoured dead!
Cos.
I dare not think,
For thought is frenzy. Lords! The Count Erizzo
Hath told ye how we found the corse. This sword,
The well-known sword of Foscari, was plunged
Deep in his gory breast; beside him lay
This hat and cloak, the splendid soldier's garb
Of Foscari; no man had approached the house
Save only Foscari; and his last word,
[Exit Officer. Mingled with cries of murder and of help,
Eriz. (aside.) Ah thou hast it now! "Tis a fair woman's soft and liquid name That stings thy soul! Good, good.-Ho! Officer! [Apart to an Officer, giving him a paper. Deliver that and bring the witness hither, Look thou take no excuse.
Signor Donato,
1 pray you check these pardonable tears.
Were this a place for passion, what's thy grief
Measured with mine? The death of all thy name
To this suspense, this agony, this shame,
That eats away the soul? What is thy grief-
Master thyself, I say. Francesco Foscari
Stands there to answer to thy charge of murder:
Produce thy proofs.
Eriz.
Bring in the corse. My Lord,
And ye, the equal judges, spare the son
This miserable duty. I can tell,
For I by chance was there, this tale of blood
And mystery. The late unhappy feud
Is known to all. Returning from St. Mark's
With my young kinsman in his gondola—
For I had missed of mine-we landed close
To the Donato Palace, as the bell
Was tolling midnight. "T was an awful storm;
But by the flashing lightning we saw one
Leap from the balcony-a cavalier,
Splendid in dress and air. The lightning glared
Full on his face and habit, unconcealed
By hat or cloak, and instantly we knew
Francesco Foscari.
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Cos. She walks as in a heavy dream; her senses Are stupified by sorrow. Count Erizzo,
| Why didst thou send for her? Why bring her here?
Cos. Sister! Heaven shield her senses! She is deaf Command her by thy power; thou art the Judge.
Thou art before the assembled power' of Venice,
Before thy father's corse, before high Heaven-
Answer me truly, lady-Didst thou hear
Thy murdered father call on Foscari ?
Cam.
Foscari's name mixed with his dying shriek?
Eriz. Didst thou not hear
Cam. He's innocent! Oh I would stake my life On Foscari's innocence.
Doge. I am, I am. Ye should have Dukes of stone, But this is flesh. Camilla, I am not
A King, who wears fair mercy on the cross
Of his bright diadem; I have no power
Save as the whetted axe to strike and slay,
A will-less instrument of the iron law
Of Venice. Daughter-Thou that should'st have been
My daughter, we are martyrs at the stake,
And must endure. Shall we not copy him,
Who stands there with so brave a constancy,
Patient, unfaltering? Let us choose the right,
And leave the event to Heaven. Speak, my dear
child.
Cam. Heaven guide me then! Lords, I am here
an orphan,
The orphan of one day.-But yesternight—
Oh! did ye ever see a father die?
Cos. Calm thee, my sister.
And ye drag me hither-
Ye call me to bear witness-me, a woman;
A wretched helpless woman!—Against him,
Whom-ye are merciless-ye have no touch
Of pity or of manhood! Do your worst;
I will not answer ye.
Fos.
Oh woman's love,
Pure nurse of kind and charitable thoughts,
Wiser than wisdom, instinct of the soul,
How do I bless thee, holiest love! Camilla,
My brave and true Camilla, thou hast dropt
Balm in the festering wound. Yet answer them.
I cannot fear the truth. Ask her once more.
Eriz. Were not the last words that Donato spake
Foscari and murder?
She hath confessed enough.
Foscari is guiltless! Hear me!-He is guiltless!
Doge. Can'st thou prove that? Thy sweet face
always brought
A comfort. Prove but that.
Eriz. (aside.)
All curses on
The coward Celso! He'll escape me yet.
(Aloud.) The facts? The proofs? The witnesses?
Cam.
His life;
My heart, my bursting heart. If I had seen
With these poor eyes that horror-had seen him
Cam. Ah! Art thou there? Release him! Set him Stabbing-Oh, thoughts like these may make me mad,
Thou art the Doge, the mighty Doge of Venice.
Thou hast the power to free him.-Save him now
From my hard kinsman! Save him! I remember,
When I was but a little child, I craved
The grace of a poor galley-slave, and thou
Didst pardon him and set him free as air;-
Wilt thou not save thy son, and such a son,
But all the powers of earth and hell can never
Shake my true faith! Foscari! I will share
Thy fate, will die with thee, will be thy bride
Even in that fatal hour, and pass away
With thee to Heaven-So! so!
My plighted love! The bridal hour will soon Unite us, my Camilla. Help! she faints.
Or life, or dearer love. Oh, were ye cast
In the old chivalrous mould, pure diamond souls
Eriz. Fold her not thus within thy arms! Resign On which the dim polluting touch of doubt her!
Fos. To thee! While still this arm hath marrow
Fos. Bethink thee of the Roman fathers, Doge, Of Brutus and of Manlius; thy son
Will not disgrace thee. Come, the rack, the rack!
I will front pain as a brave enemy,
And rush to the encounter. What is the sense
Of bodily agony to that which I
Endure even now? Disgrace, suspicion, scorn,
Hatred and haughty pity, and that last
Worst pang-her love, her misery. These are tortures!
Let me have something that a warrior's soul
May strive against and conquer. Come, the rack! Doge.
Re-enter Cosmo, and Zeno.
Rests not a breathing time! Were ye built up
Of honour-But to ye-Why should I speak
When I have nothing but my knightly word
To prove me innocent?
Eriz.
By this contempt, Count Zeno. Now to judgment. [The Doge, Zeno, Erizzo, and the Senators retire to the back of the stage, leaving Cosmo and Foscari in the front.
Fos. Father! He passes on and doth not speak;
He cannot; he has no words, nothing but tears.
Oh, what must the grief be that forces tears
The flame of youth burnt in him yesterday
From his proud heart-his proud and bursting heart!
At fourscore years; to-day hath made him old.
What groan was that? What other wretch? Donato!
Cosmo! Wilt thou not answer?
Cos.
Oh that voice
Which was such perfect music,-which seemed made
For truth and thought, fit organ, how it jars
My very soul! What wouldst thou?
I would thank thee That thou hast spared one pang to a brave heart. That rack-To have seen me stretched there, to direct
Each fresh progressive torture-He had died
Before our eyes! I thank thee, Sir. No more.
Unless a dying man, for I am sentenced-
Look how he sinks his head upon his clenched
And withered hands! I am condemned, and we
Shall meet no more. Thou wilt not join the headsman
To see the axe fall on my neck, nor follow
The shouting multitude, who yesterday
Hail'd me a god, and, with like shouts, to-morrow
Will drag me to the block. We meet no more;
And as a dying man I fain would part
In charity. We were friends, Cosmo.-
Cos.
I sinned in listening; but whilst he spake,
A world of kindly thoughts, a gush of the deep
Old passionate love came o'er my heart-Forgive me,
Oh blessed shade! Friends! Why thy crime were
Eriz. I must not hear thee, Doge. The question! Wanting that damning dye-a simple murder!
What though of one kind, noble, generous,
Whose princely spirit scattered happiness
As the sun light-a single sin! But 't was
My father, mine-avenging angel, hear!—
Mine, that so loved thee.-
Cos. Stop, on your lives! Forbear this cruelty!
This cowardly cruelty! He will endure
He will call up the courage of the field,
And die before he groans. His eye surveys
That engine steadily, whose very sight
Makes my flesh creep. Remove it. Oh to see,
That butchery-and the old man-the poor old man!
Remove it.
Eriz. Well. Proceed we then to sentence.
Zeno. First listen to the prisoner. Foscari! speak.
Sen. Yes; let us hear his tale. Defend thyself.
Fos. To ye who doubt! To ye who disbelieve!
Sir, there are spirits that can never stoop
To falsehood; nor for wealth, or power, or fame,
Fos. That, at the first glance Of wild suspicion, the first crafty word Of treacherous hate, doubted, accused, condemned— Chasing through shameful trial to shameful deathYet daring to call down the wrath of God On a false friend! Oh cunning self-deceit! Oh wondrous cheat of blind mortality! Thus doth the Evil Spirit cast about To win a soul from heaven. They come. They come. Now gentle death.
[The Doge, Erizzo, Zeno, and Senators advance.
This bonnet, which thy filial hand had plucked
From my old brow, this fatal coronet,
Predoomed to fall, that scorches me like fire-
Stings me like twisted serpents! Would I were
A naked slave, chained to his weary oar,
A worm that hath no sense but sufferance,
Any thing vilest and most miserable,
Rather than Doge of Venice! I must plunge
A dagger in thy breast. Francesco Foscari,
The council doth pronounce thee guilty.
Fos. Ha!
Eriz. It works. It works.
Doge.
Thou saidst thou wast prepared. Fos. Ay-but the word! The first sound of the word!
Doge. The council doth condemn-
Fos.
All, father? All? Doge. No; there were two-Count Zeno could not join
Guilty and Foscari; and I—my son,
Thou could'st not do this deed!
Thank heaven! Thank heaven!
Eriz. The sentence, Doge!
Fos.
Touch him not, vile slaves!
Fos. A moment pause, and ye may lead me hence Tame as a fondled kid. Ye Senators,
Ye kings of Venice, I appeal from you
To the Supreme Tribunal.
Fos. To Him that is in heaven. Ye are men,
Frail, erring, ignorant men, guided or driven
By every warring passion: some by love
Of the beloved Donati; some by hate
Of the high Foscari; by envy some;
Many by fear; and one by low ambition.
This ye call justice, lords! But I appeal
To the All-righteous Judge of earth and heaven,
Before whose throne condemners and condemned
All shall stand equal, at whose feet I swear,
By what my soul holds sacred-by the spurs
Of knighthood-by the Christian's holier Cross,
And by that old man's white and reverend locks,
That I am innocent. Ye, who disbelieve,
And ye who doubt, and ye, the grovelling few,
Believing who condemn, I shower on all
Contempt and pardon. Now, guards, to the prison.
Zeno. Look to the Doge.
Fos.
Zeno, when I am gone,
Yes, father. The one pang, Thou wilt be kind to him?
And with a merciful speed.
The worse than death,-the infamy is past.
The dagger's in my breast; now drive it home,
Fos. Thou truest friend, farewell!
Zeno.
Justice hath bowed to mercy.
In a dark mine, shut up from sun and air,
Than I can live without a proud respect,
A white unblemish'd name, the light and breath
Of honour. Death, I say!-a murderer's death!
Ye dare not change the laws.
Cos.
Live, and repent.
Fos. Cosmo, if e'er you loved me, call on them
For justice-bloody justice! Doge of Venice,
Maintain the insulted laws! Send me to death,-
To instant death! Oh father, free thy son
From this dread load of misery! Wouldst thou see
Thy only child shunned as a leper, father?
Sent out into the world a second Cain?
Oh give me death! death! death!
She-not my sister!-Was she veil'd?
Eriz.
Cos. How couldst thou know her?
Eriz.
By the pliant grace
Of the young form-the goddess step-the charm
Of motion. With such port the queenly swan
Glides o'er the waters.
Avoid that name. Avoid it.
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