With a selected giunta from the senate
Of twenty-five of the best born patricians,
Having deliberated on the state

Of the republic, and the o'erwhelming cares
Which, at this moment, doubly must oppress
Your years, so long devoted to your country,
Have judged it fitting, with all reverence,
Now to solicit from your wisdom (which
Upon reflection must accord in this),
The resignation of the ducal ring,
Which you have worn so long and venerably:
And to prove that they are not ungrateful, nor
Cold to your years and services, they add
An appanage of twenty hundred golden
Ducats, to make retirement not less splendid
Than should become a sovereign's retreat.
Doge. Did I hear rightly?
Chief of the Ten.
Doge. No.
Chief of the Ten.

Need I say again?

Have you done?

I have spoken.

Twenty-four

Hours are accorded you to give an answer.

Doge. I shall not need so many seconds.
Chief of the Ten.

Right!

Will now retire.

Doge.

As you please— I'll take their voices on it ne'ertheless, And see whose most may sway them, yours or mine. [Exeunt BARBARIGO and LOREDANO.

Stay !

We

Four and twenty hours Will alter nothing which I have to say.

Chief of the Ten. Speak!
Doge.

When I twice before reiterated

My wish to abdicate, it was refused me:
And not alone refused, but ye exacted
An oath from me that I would never more
Renew this instance. I have sworn to die
In full exertion of the functions, which
My country call'd me here to exercise,
According to my honour and my conscience-
I cannot break my oath.

Mar.

This

They tortured from him.
May be pure patriotism. I am a woman:
To me my husband and my children were
Country and home. I loved him-how I loved him!
I have seen him pass through such an ordeal as
The old martyrs would have shrunk from: he is gone,
And I, who would have given my blood for him,
Have nought to give but tears! But could I compass
The retribution of his wrongs! - Well, well;
I have sons, who shall be men.
Doge.
Your grief distracts you.
Mar. I thought I could have borne it, when I
saw him

Bow'd down by such oppression; yes, I thought
That I would rather look upon his corse
Than his prolong'd captivity: - I am punish'd
For that thought now. Would I were in his grave!
Doge. I must look on him once more.
Mur.

Come with me!

Doge. Is he

Mar. Yes; all things which conduce to other men's Imperfect happiness or high ambition,

By some strange destiny, to him proved deadly.
The country and the people whom he loved,
The prince of whom he was the elder born,
And

Doge.
Mar.
How?
Doge. They have taken my son from me, and now
At my too long worn diadem and ring.
[aim

Soon may be a prince no longer.

Let them resume the gewgaws?

Mar.

In such an hour too!

Doge.

Oh, the tyrants!

'Tis the fittest time;

And

An hour ago I should have felt it.
Mar.

Will you not now resent it? Oh, for vengeance!
But he, who, had he been enough protected,
Might have repaid protection in this moment,
Cannot assist his father.

Come, come, old man! [Exeunt the DOGE and MARINA.

Enter BARBARIGO and LOREDANO.

Bar. (to an Attendant). Where is the Doge? Att. This instant retired hence With the illustrious lady his son's widow. Lor. Where? Att.

To the chamber where the body lies. Bar. Let us return, then. Lor.

You forget, you cannot.

We have the implicit order of the Giunta
To await their coming here, and join them in
Their office: they 'll be here soon after us.

Bar. And will they press their answer on the Doge?
Lor. 'Twas his own wish that all should be done

promptly.

Bar. Die in his robes: He could not have lived long; but I have done My best to save his honours, and opposed This proposition to the last, though vainly. Why would the general vote compel me hither? Lor. 'Twas fit that some one of such different thoughts

From ours should be a witness, lest false tongues

Should whisper that a harsh majority

Dreaded to have its acts beheld by others.

Bar. And not less, I must needs think, for the sake Of humbling me for my vain opposition.

You are ingenious, Loredano, in
Your modes of vengeance, nay, poetical,
A very Ovid in the art of hating;
'Tis thus (although a secondary object,
Yet hate has microscopic eyes), to you
I owe, by way of foil to the more zealous,

This undesired association in Your Giunta's duties.

Lor.

How!-my Giunta !

Ber.
Yours!
They speak your language, watch your nod, approve
Your plans, and do your work. Are they not yours?
Lor. You talk unwarily. "T were best they hear
This from you.
[not
Bar.
Oh! they'll hear as much one day
From louder tongues than mine; they have gone
beyond

Even their exorbitance of power: and when
This happens in the most contemn'd and abject
States, stung humanity will rise to check it.

Lor. You talk but idly.
Bur.

Here come our colleagues.

Chief of the Ten.

That remains for proof.

Enter the Deputation as before.

Is the Duke aware

We seek his presence?

Lor.
Your answer, Francis Foscari !
Doge. If I could have foreseen that my old age
Was prejudicial to the state, the chief
Of the republic never would have shown
Himself so far ungrateful, as to place
His own high dignity before his country;
But this life having been so many years
Not useless to that country, I would fain
Have consecrated my last moments to her.
But the decree being render'd, I obey. 1
Chief of the Ten. If you would have the three
days named extended,

We willingly will lengthen them to eight,
As sign of our esteem.

Doge.

Nor even eight minutes

Not eight hours, signor,

There's the ducal ring,
[Taking off his ring and cap.

And there the ducal diadem. And so
The Adriatic 's free to wed another.

Chief of the Ten. Yet go not forth so quickly.
Doge.
I am old, sir,

And even to move but slowly must begin
To move betimes. Methinks I see amongst you
A face I know not-Senator! your name,
You, by your garb, Chief of the Forty!
Mem.

I am the son of Marco Memmo. 2
Doge.

Signor,

Ah! But sons and fathers! —

Your father was my friend. What, ho! my servants there! Atten.

Doge.

My prince!

No prince There are the princes of the prince! [Pointing to the Ten's Deputation.]— Prepare

To part from hence upon the instant.
Chief of the Ten.

Enter the DOGE.

Why

So rashly? 't will give scandal. Doge.

Answer that;

[To the Ten.

Chief of the Ten.

What?

Get thee ready; we must mourn

True; but in freedom,
Without these jealous spies upon the great.
Signors, you may depart: what would you more?
We are going: do you fear that we shall bear
The palace with us? Its old walls, ten times
As old as I am, and I'm very old,

Have served you, so have I, and I and they
Could tell a tale; but I invoke them not
To fall upon you! else they would, as erst

Will now descend the stairs by which I mounted
To sovereignty-the Giants' Stairs, on whose
Broad eminence I was invested duke.

My services have called me up those steps,

The malice of my foes will drive me down them.
There five and thirty years ago was I

Install'd, and traversed these same halls, from which
I never thought to be divorced except

A corse-a corse, it might be, fighting for them
But not push'd hence by fellow-citizens.

But come; my son and I will go together—

He to his grave, and I to pray for mine.
Chief of the Ten. What! thus in public?
Doge.

Elected, and so will I be deposed.
Marina! art thou willing?

Mar.

Mar.

Lor.

I was publicly

Here's my arm! [forth. Doge. And here my staff: thus propp'd will I go Chief of the Ten. It must not be the people will perceive it. [know it,

And I

And I

[you

Then it is false, or you are true. For my own part, I credit neither; 'tis An idle legend.

Mar.

You talk wildly, and

Doge. The people! There's no people, you well
Else you dare not deal thus by them or me.
There is a populace, perhaps, whose looks

May shame you; but they dare not groan nor curse
Save with their hearts and eyes.
Chief of the Ten.

Else

Had better now be seated, nor as yet

Doge. You have reason. I have spoken much More than my wont: it is a foible which Was not of mine, but more excuses you,

Inasmuch as it shows that I approach

A dotage which may justify this deed

Of yours, although the law does not, nor will.
Farewell, sirs!

Bar.
An escort fitting past and present rank.

You shall not depart without

[The death of the elder Foscari took place not at the palace, but in his own house; not immediately on his descent from the Giants' Stairs, but five days afterwards. "En entendant," says M. de Sismondi, "le son des cloches, qui sonnaient en actions de graces pour l'élection de son successeur, il mourut subitement d'une hémorrhagie causée par une veine qui s'éclata dans sa poitrine."—" Before I was sixteen years

The misery to die a subject where

He reign'd: then let his funeral rites be princely. 1
Chief of the Ten. We are agreed, then?
All, except Lor., answer,

Yes.

Chief of the Ten. Heaven's peace be with him!
Mar. Signors, your pardon: this is mockery.
Juggle no more with that poor remnant, which,
A moment since, while yet it had a soul,

(A soul by whom you have increased your empire,
And made your power as proud as was his glory,)
You banish'd from his palace, and tore down
From his high place, with such relentless coldness;
And now, when he can neither know these honours,
Nor would accept them if he could, you, signors,
Purpose with idle and superfluous pomp,

To make a pageant over what you trampled.
A princely funeral will be your reproach,
And not his honour.

Chief of the Ten.

Lady, we revoke not

know it,

Our purposes so readily.

Mar.

As far as touches torturing the living.

I thought the dead had been beyond even you, Though (some, no doubt) consign'd to powers which

may

Resemble that you exercise on earth.

Leave him to me; you would have done so for
His dregs of life, which you have kindly shorten'd:
It is my last of duties, and may prove
A dreary comfort in my desolation.

[By a decree of the Council, the trappings of supreme power of which the Doge had divested himself while living, were restored to him when dead; and he was interred, with ducal magnificence, in the church of the Minorites, the new Doge attending as a mourner. — See DARU.]

2 The Venetians appear to have had a particular turn for breaking the hearts of their Doges. The following is another instance of the kind in the Doge Marco Barbarigo: he was succeeded by his brother Agostino Barbarigo, whose chief merit is here mentioned. "Le doge, blessé de trouver constamment un contradicteur et un censeur si amer dans son frère, lui dit un jour en plein conseil: Messire Augustin, vous faites tout votre possible pour håter ma mort; vous vous flattez de me succéder; mais, si les autres vous connaissent aussi-bien que je vous connais, ils n'auront garde de vous élire.' Là-dessus il se leva, ému de colère, rentra dans son appartement, et mourut quelques jours après. Ce frère, contre lequel il s'était emporté, fut précisément le successeur qu'on lui donna C'était un mérite dont on aimait à tenir compte; surtout à un parent, de s'être mis en opposition avec le chef de la république."-DARU, Hist. de Venise, vol. ii. p. 533.

3 L'ha pagata." An historical fact. See Hist. de Venise, par P. Daru, t. ii. p. 411.-[Here the original MS. ends. The two lines which follow were added by Mr. Gifford. In the margin of the MS. Lord Byron has written," If the last line should appear obscure to those who do not recollect the historical fact, mentioned in the first act, of Loredano's inscription in his book of Doge Foscari, debtor for the deaths of my father and uncle,' you may add the following lines to the conclusion of the last act :

Chief of the Ten. For what has he repaid thee?

Cannot comply with your request. His relics
Shall be exposed with wonted pomp, and follow'd
Unto their home by the new Doge, not clad
As Doge, but simply as a senator.

Mar. I have heard of murderers, who have interr'd
Their victims; but ne'er heard, until this hour,
Of so much splendour in hypocrisy

O'er those they slew. 2 I've heard of widows' tears-
Alas! I have shed some- always thanks to you!
I've heard of heirs in sables-you have left none
To the deceased, so you would act the part

Of such. Well, sirs, your will be done! as one day
I trust, Heaven's will be done too!
Chief of the Ten.

Know you, lady,

To whom ye speak, and perils of such speech?
Mar. I know the former better than yourselves;
The latter- like yourselves; and can face both.
Wish you more funerals ?
Bar.

Heed not her rash words;
Her circumstances must excuse her bearing.
Chief of the Ten. We will not note them down.
Bar. (turning to Lor. who is writing upon his tablets).
What art thou writing,

With such an earnest brow, upon thy tablets? Lor. (pointing to the Doge's body). That he has paid me ! 3

Nature's debt and [Curtain fulls.

For my father's

And father's brother's death by his son's and own! Ask Gifford about this."-E.]

4[Considered as poems, we confess that "Sardanapalus" and "The Two Foscari" appear to us to be rather heavy, verbose, and inelegant-deficient in the passion and energy which belongs to Lord Byron's other writings-and still more in the richness of imagery, the originality of thought, and the sweetness of versification for which he used to be distinguished. They are for the most part solemn, prolix, and ostentatious-lengthened out by large preparations for catastrophes that never arrive, and tantalising us with slight specimens and glimpses of a higher interest scattered thinly up and down many weary pages of pompous declamation. Along with the concentrated pathos and homestruck sentiments of his former poetry, the noble author seems also we cannot imagine why to have discarded the spirited and melodious versification in which they were embodied, and to have formed to himself a measure equally remote from the spring and vigour of his former compositions, and from the softness and inflexibility of the ancient masters of the drama. There are some sweet lines, and many of great weight and energy; but the general march of the verse is cumbrous and unmusical. His lines do not vibrate like polished lances, at once strong and light, in the hands of his persons, but are wielded like clumsy batons in a bloodless affray. Instead of the graceful familiarity and idiomatical melodies of Shakspeare, it is apt, too, to fall into clumsy prose, in its approaches to the casy and colloquial style; and, in the loftier passages, is occasionally deformed by low and common images that harmonise but ill with the general solemnity of the diction.-JEFFREY.]