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Within his own, the soft and dimpled hand, Cos. And veil'd! Whence com'st thou, sister?
Oh pure as thine! Believe it, Cosmo; Why hast thou borne those tears and that wan face
Pure as thine own!
We have no father now,
I am no tyrant-brother: I'll not force great grief. Cos. Whence ?
Thy blooming beauty to some old man's bed
For high alliance; I'll not plunge thy youth
From St. Mark's.
Into that living tomb where the cold nun
My coffers; I but ask of thee to stay
With me in thy dear Venice, thy dear home,
Thy mistress, mine. I'll be to thee, Camilla,
A father, brosher, lover. Stay with me!
I will be very kind to thee.
Oh cruel! or whom I spake,-one who hath long to live.
This kindness is the rack. I come from where beneath the leaden roofs
I would but save thee
From exile, penury, shame-
He said so.
Cam. Ay, he urg'd all that thou canst say against
Himself and me in vain. My heart is firm.
I go. But love me still, oh love me still,
My brother! Turn not away, shake me not off, as though
Listen. I were some loathed reptile. Cosmo! Brother!
He said all. We two are left alone in the wide world,
Camilla! And I that sate upon that rainbow throne of happiness, I am fallen, fallen.
I'd save thee from a crime, a damning crimeCos.
What would'st thou ?
Did he say that? From such a parricide, How may I comfort thee? Sweet gentle soul,
Such unimagined sin- I tell thee, girl,
The Roman harlot, she the infamous
And thou wilt listen ?
That crush'd her father with her chariot-wheels, Cos. Patient as infancy.
She'll be forgotten in thy monstrous guilt,
Whitened by thy black shame.
Oh father, father,
I call upon thee! Look on me from heaven,
Search my whole soul—'t is white. Oh when somo Cam.
tale We were betroth’d; he goes a sentenced wretch
of woman's truth brought tears into my eyes, But innocent, most innocent! He goes
How often hath he said-Be thou, too, faithful To scorn, to exile, and to misery,
In weal or woe! And now-farewell! farewell ! And I–I came to say farewell to thee,
Cosmo, my heart is breaking Say farewell, My brother-I go with him.
Stay with me.
Then go, This is a frenzy.
Outcast of earth and heaven, of God and man! Cam. Sir, I am not mad;
Abandon'd, spurn’d, abhorr’d, accurst! Go forth I'm a Donato born, and drank in courage
A murderer's bride--worse! worse! What impious Even with my mother's milk. What if I shake!
priest Within this trembling frame there is a heart
Will dare profane the holy words that join As firm as thine. Speak to me ere we part,
The pure of heart and hand for ye, for ye, My brother! Speak to me, whatever words,
The parricides—Oh that she had but died However bitter! Any thing but silence,
Innocent in her childhood ! Cold withering silence !
One day, brother,
Thou 'lt grieve for this. Now bless thee!
[Erit Camilla. For that kind word!
With such a dotage! 'Twas a sight to see
Of blessing or of pardon. Bless me now,
Fos. Bless her too. She is thy daughter;
Now she'll hang
She goes with me to exile. Around his murderer's neck.
She is blest
In her high constancy. Beloved child,
Thy virtuous love hath softened the sharp pang That I'm her brother? Ho, Camilla?
Of this dread hour. Eriz.
Father! My only father! A triumph 'mid their shame to these misproud
Foscari, the bark awaits us. Revengeful Foscari to bear off thus
What, already ?
Cam. All is prepared.
I should have told thee so; Where is she? Is she gone? What ho, Camilla!
But when I would have said, Go! go! my tongue
Clave to my mouth.
Already! Write to me
Often. Is that forbidden? Yet the Doge
Be strictly kept. Then I shall sometimes see,
For surely he will show it me, thy name, I have thee at feet.
Thy writing, something thou hast touched. 'T will be
Doge. I will write to thee.
Of me when the pale moon lets fall her cold
And patient light upon the Adrian wave
Always Let them not listen to the last faint word,
By sun, or moon, or star; in the bright day, Nor gaze on the last lingering look. Why doubt'st In the night's darkness, but one single thought thou?
Will dwell in my old heart—My banished son. Fear me not—I'll be a true prisoner.
Cam. Alas! Francesco, why wilt thou prolong I am a Foscari still, bound by one chain,
This useless agony? Honour. Send them away.
He hath not said Doge.
Leave us. (Exeunt Guards. Farewell. One last embrace, one blessing more Fos.
The last ! My soul is free again. That tallest slave
Cam. What step is that?
I crave your pardon :
But I must pray the Doge to come with me
Straight to the Senate. "T is an earnest business. A word on such a reptile! I'd a world
I do beseech your Highness. Leave him, Foscari! Of sad and loving things to say to thee,
Cling not together as your very souls But there's a weight just here-Oh father! father! Were interlaced. The Senate, Doge, demands thee. I thought to have been a comfort to thy age,
Fos. The Senate! What! hath he another son But I was born to spread a desolation
To try, to torture, to condemn? Hath he On all I love.
Another heart to break? Yet go. For once Doge. I would not change my son,
Their cruelty is mercy. Go. Banish'd although he be, with the proudest sire Doge.
Whilst still In Christendom. But we must part. These men These eyes may gaze on thee! Ere yonder cloud Are merciless.
Shall pass across the sun, a darker cloud Fos. Implore no grace of them.
Will wrap me in its blackness ; then the throne, And yet to leave this brave and tender heart The judgment seat, the grave-no matter where To wither in its princely solitude,
The old man rests his bones One dim eclipse Friendless, companionless.
Will shadow all-but now-say to the senate Doge.
Age hath one friend, That at their bidding I am sending forth
My son to exile.
Go! go! To close thine eyes or kneel beside thy couch,
Doge, thy duty, Or gather from thy lips the last fond sound
Thy princely duty calls thee.
She stands there. Ask her Which was to me a god, have I not offered
Whom she will follow. My child upon the altar? Is the sacrifice
He knows well. Francesco, Still incomplete ? Farewell! farewell!
The whole world shall not part us.
Mine! Mine own! Embark not till ye hear from me. My lord, My very own! I've lost wealth, country, home,
Fame, friends, and father; I have nothing left Doge. I pray you pardon me, I'm old
Save thee, my dear one; but with thee I'm rich, I'm very old.
[Ereunt Doge and Zeno. And great, and happy. Now let us go forth Cam. Nay, sit not shivering there
Into our banishment. Give me thy hand,
Cos. Camilla, I command thee stay-
Absolute as a father's. Loose her, Sir. Fos.
Is he gone? I did not say Let go her hand. I warn ye part. They'll drive me Farewell, nor God be with thee! When men part
Into a madness. If thou be a man From common friends for a slight summer voyage,
Let's end this quarrel bravely. They cry Heaven speed thee! and I could not say
Heed him not! Farewell to my dear father, nor call down
Fos. Calm thee! He is thy brother. One benison on that white reverend head
I disclaim her. Which I shall never see again. There breathes not Fos. Tremble not so! I am unarmed, Camilla: A wretch so curst as I.
Cos. Dost hold her as a shield before thy breast ? Cam. Foscari, the lips
Dost palter with me, coward ? That I have kissed are cold.
Fos. (breaking from Camilla.) Of?-A sword! Fos.
Oh bruised flower, A sword for charity! Whose very wounds do shed an odorous balm!
Help! Help! The Doge! My gentle comforter! could I forget
The guard ! Stay with them! Part them! Leave them Thy misery! Forgive me.
not ! Сат. . I have left
Hold them asunder, Count, and in my prayers His bier, his bloody bier.
Thou shalt be sainted! Help. (Camilla rushes out. Fos. Ay, there it is!
Give me a sword! Fortune, and friends, and home, to fly from them Cos. Ay his or mine. I am so strongly armed Were nothing—but she leaves the unburied corse In my most righteous cause, I would encounter Of her dead father, the dear privilege
A mailed warrior with a willow wand. To sit and watch till the last hour, to strew
Eriz. There is my weapon. His body with sweet flowers like a bank in spring, Fox.
Why thou wast my soe! Making death beautiful, to follow him
But this is such a bounty as might shame To his cold bed, and drop slow heavy tears
The princely hand of friendship. Not the blade To the bell's knolling. She leaves grief to go
Girt by a crowned Duke around my loins,
Cam. He, that blest spirit, knows thy innocence : Was welcomer than this.
Foscari, come on!
Fos. I would thou wert a soldier!
Now. There is a comfort in the word. Camilla,
[They fight, and Foscari falls. Where are the guards, the ship? My heart beats high Eriz.
The fates At thy exceeding truth. We shall set forth
Work for me.-Ha! As to a victory.
Is he dead?
Cos. Alas! alas! Lift up his head.
Cam. (behind the scene.)
Canst thou not hasten?
Enter Camilla and the Doge.
Foscari! He's slain! Travelling to banishment. All Venice knows Oh bloody, bloody brother! Kill me too! The piteous story of the Doge's son
Be merciful! Help! Condemned by his own father, and of her
Doth he live? His true and faithful love. Now leave us, Sir;
Thy hands are bloody-Help, Doge Foscari!
Help, father!- The old man stands stiffening there I seek my sister.
Into a statue-He'll die first! Of? Off!
Wouldst kill him o'er again?-He bleeds to death! And cold contempt, and bitter pardon—dared
To hurl on me fierce pardon! Ha! he shivers !
His stout limbs writhe! The insect that is born Who hath done this?
And dies within an hour would not change lives Cam.
He is not dead. Support him. With Foscari. I am content. For thee See how his eye-lids quiver. Foscari!
I have a tenfold curse. Long be thy reign, 'Tis 1, thy wife!
Great Doge of Venice!
Ay, I am the Doge; Cos.
Thanks, gracious heaven! Lead him instant death. (Exit Erizzo guarded.
"Tis I Zeno. Seize Count Erizzo, Guard. Have ye not That am the only murderer of the earth— heard
I that slew him. Bring racks and axes, What spectacle is this ?-Know ye not, Sirs,
Live! That Foscari is guiltless, that the murderer Is found ?
I pardon thee. He pardons thee. Live, Cosmo;
It is thy Prince's last behest. I've been
O'erlong a crowned slave. Go! dross to dross.
(Flinging off the Ducal bonnet.
And bruise the stones of Venice! Tell the senate In the long line of Foscari! Camilla,
There lies their diadem. Now I am free!
Now I may grieve and pity like a man!
May weep, and groan, and die! My heart may burst To crown the brimming cup of my despair.
Now! Start not, Zeno–Didst thou never hear
Of a broken heart? Look there.
Hush! Ho revives. That was my brother
Cam. My Foscari!
Camilla: Is't Camilla ?
Is she not weeping? What! canst thou weep now, Francesco Foscari, by Donato crossed
When honour is redeemed and a bright name?
Is life. Who talked of death? I cannot die Eriz.
There's no need. In such a happiness. I'm well. The work is done, well done-Signor Donato,
He sinks; I thank thee still for that-and such revenge
Cos. Is he dead?
Beloved son, Eriz. Ay! Do ye know me? Not a man of ye
How art thou? But is my tool or victim. I'm your master.
Fos. Strong at heart. What are those shapes This was my aim when old Donato died,
That hover round us? There! There! There ! And but that Celso dared not cope with Foscari,
Thy friends. And sought to catch him in a subtler springe,
Fos. Friends! Have they heard that I am innocent? I had been now your Doge. And I am more. That I'm no murderer? That I do not shame I am your master, Sirs. Look where he lies My father's glory? Let it be proclaimedThe towering Foscari, who yesterday
(dies Stood statelier than the marble gods of Rome
He's gone. In their proud beauty. Hearken! It is mute,
Mine! Still mine own! The tongue which darted words of fiery scorn, Bury me with him! He is mine.
JUDICIOUS ALTERATIONS WHICH HE SUGGESTED,
WITH WHICH HE
IS MOST RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
PRODUCTION OF A STRANGER, FOR THE
They who in Prologues for your favours ask,
Though doubts and hopes and tremblings do not fail,
Why should the Author hint their fitting parts,
In all the pomp of Verse, to " British hearts ?"
Why to such minds as yours with ardour pray,
For more than justice to a first essay ?
How hangs the scale 'twixt agony and joy,
All these you feel ;—and yet we scarce can bring
To what may we allude ?–Our plot untold
Is no great chapter from the times of old;
On no august association rests, THE Story and Characters of the following Tra- But seeks its earliest home in kindly breasts,– gedy are allogether fictitious. Annabel's cautions Its scene, as inauspicious to our strain, to silence in the first Scene, and the short dialogue is neither mournful Greece, nor kindling Spain, between her and Julian, after he awakens, will be But Sicily-where no defiance hurled recognised by the classical reader as borrowed from At freedom's foes may awe the attending world. the fine opening of the Orestes of Euripides; the But since old forms forbid us to submit incident of uncovering the body in the last Act is A Play without a Prologue to the Pit; also taken from the Electra of Sophocles. Of any Lest this be missed by some true friend of plays, other intentional imitation, the Author is unconscious. Like the dull colleague of his earlier days;
Thus let me own how fearlessly we trust
ALFONSO, King of Sicily, a boy, disguised as Theo
of the Kingdom.
on a couch. Annabel.