Presumptuous man! the gods take care of Cato. Dec. Your high unconquer'd heart makes you forget But I have done. When I relate hereafter The tale of this unhappy embassy, All Rome will be in tears. 10.-SCENE FROM VENICE PRESERVED. THOMAS OTWAY. [Otway was born at Trotting, Sussex, in 1651, and was educated at Winchester and Oxford. He made some ineffectual attempts to become an actor, and then commenced as a writer for the stage. In 1675 his first tragedy, "Alcibiades," was produced, followed in the next year by his "Don Carlos,' which was very successful. He then served for a short time in a cavalry regiment in Flanders, but returned to resume his favourite occupation. His tragedy of "Venice Preserved" is a model for force and feeling, combined with the deep pathos that is always associated with scenes of domestic distress when touched by a master hand. He died at a publichouse in Tower-hill, where he had secreted himself from his creditors, and in a literally starving condition, in 1685 being then only in his 34th year.] SCENE II.-The DUKE OF VENICE, PRIULI, and other Senators, sitting. Duke. Anthony, Priuli, senators of Venice, The state of Venice' honour, or its safety? Pri. Could words express the story I've to tell you, Duke. How! Pri. Nay, we stand Upon the very brink of gaping ruin. Within this city's form'd a dark conspiracy, To massacre us all, our wives and children, The swords, for aught I know, drawn e'en this moment, Let's not be tamely butcher'd, but do something Our virtue was not ruin'd, though we were. [A noise without. Capt. Room, room, make room for some prisoners. Duke. Give 'em entrance. Enter JAFFIER, and CAPTAIN OF THE GUARDS. Well, who are you? Jaf. A villain!, Would every man, that hears me, Would deal so honestly, and own his title. Duke. "Tis rumour'd that a plot has been contriv'd Jaf. Think not that I to save my life came hither; To all those wretches whose unhappy dooms Are fix'd and seal'd. You see me here before you, But use me as my dealings may deserve, And I may prove a friend. Duke. The slave capitulates; Give him the tortures. Jaf. That you dare not do; Your fear wont let you, nor the longing itch To hear a story which you dread the truth of: [Without. Truth, which the fear of smart shall ne'er get from me. Into confessions; but a steady mind Acts of itself, ne'er asks the body's counsel. Give him the tortures! Name but such a thing Again, by heav'n I'll shut these lips for ever. Not all your racks, your engines, or your wheels, Shall force a groan away, that you may guess at. Jaf. For myself full pardon, Besides the lives of two-and-twenty friends, Whose names are here enroll'd. Nay, let their crimes And sacred promises of this reverend council, The thing I ask be ratified. Swear this, Ye have of peace and happiness hereafter, All Sen. We swear. (All the Council bow.) May you and your posterity be bless'd Or curs'd for ever. All Sen. Else be curs'd for ever. (They bow again.) Jaf. Then here's the list, and with't the full disclose Of all that threatens you. (Delivers a paper to the Officer, who gives it to the DUKE.) Now, fate, thou hast caught me. Duke. Give order that all diligent search be made To seize these men; their characters are public. (The DUKE gives the first paper to the Officer.) The paper intimates their rendezvous To be at the house of a fam'd Grecian courtezan You, Jaffier, must with patience bear till morning Jaf. Would the chains of death Had bound me safe ere I had known this minute! Duke. Captain, withdraw your prisoner. Jaf. Sir, if possible, Lead me where my own thoughts themselves may lose me; Forget myself, and this day's guilt and falsehood. [Exit, guarded. Offi. (Without.) More traitors; room, room! make room there. Duke. How's this? guards! Where are your guards? Shut up the gates; the treason's Already at our doors. Enter Officer with PIERRE in fetters. Offi. My lords, more traitors, Seiz'd in the very act of consultation; Furnish'd with arms, and instruments of mischief. (As you are pleas'd to call yourselves) of Venice; Pier. Are these the trophies I've deserv'd for fighting Your battles with confederated powers? When winds and seas conspir'd to overthrow you; Like a lewd dame, by bolder prows than yours; Duke. Know you one Jaffier? Pier. Yes, and know his virtue. His justice, truth, his general worth, and sufferings Enter JAFFIER, guarded. Pier. My friend, too, bound! nay, then Our fate has conquer'd us, and we must fall. Why droops the man whose welfare's so much mine, That e'er betray'd a generous, trusting friend, All our fair hopes which morning was t' have crowned, Pier. So, then, all's over. Venice has lost her freedom, I my life. No more farewell! Duke. Say will you make confession Of your vile deeds, and trust the senate's mercy? Pier. Curs'd be your senate! curs'd your constitution : The curse of growing factions and divisions Still vex your counsels, shake your public safety, And make the robes of government you wear Hateful to you, as these base chains to me. Duke. Pardon, or death? Pier. Death! honourable death! Duke. Break up the council. Captain, guard your prisoners. Jaffier, you're free, but these must wait for judgment. [The Captain takes off JAFFIER's chains. The DUKE and Council go away. The Conspirators, all but JAFFIER and PIERRE go off, guarded. Pier. Come, where's my dungeon? Lead me to my straw: It will not be the first time I've lodg❜d hard To do the senate service. Jaf. Hold, one moment. Pier. Who's he disputes the judgment of the senate? Presumptuous rebel! (Strikes JAFFIER.) On! (To Officer.) Jaf. By heav'n, you stir not! I must be heard; Ï must have leave to speak. Thou hast disgrac'd me, Pierre, by a vile blow: But use me as thou wilt, thou canst not wrong me; Pier. What whining monk art thou? what holy cheat, Jaf. Not know me, Pierre ? What art thou? Jaf. Jaffier, thy friend; thy once-loved, valued friend; Dear to my eyes, and tender to my heart: But thou,-a wretched, base, false, worthless coward, Jaf. I have not wrong'd thee; by these tears I have not. Pier. Hast thou not wrong'd me? Dar'st thou call thyself That once-loved, valued friend of mine, And swear thou hast not wrong'd me? Whence these chains? Whence the vile death which I may meet this moment? Whence this dishonour, but from thee, thou false one? Jaf. All's true, yet grant one thing, and I've done asking. Pier. What's that? Jaf. To take thy life, on such conditions The council have propos'd: thou and thy friends May yet live long, and to be better treated. Pier. Life! ask my life! confess! record myself A villain, for the privilege to breathe! And carry up and down this curs'd city, Burthensome to itself, a few years longer; To lose it, may be, at last, in a lewd quarrel For some new friend, treacherous and false as thou art! |