University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

The Senate.
Count Erizzo, Donato and Senators.
Eriz.
He rules us as a king—this Foscari,
An absolute king, haughty and imbecile
As any Eastern sovereign! He degrades
The old Nobility, contemns the Senate,
And cringes to the people—a mob courtier!
A greedy swallower of popular praise!

Sen.
He hates the Nobles.

Eriz.
But this very day
Did he refuse to my dear kinsman here
A post, that he requested for a man
Who long hath served the state.

Sen.
Refuse Donato!

Eriz.
Even so. He is of the Senate, is the head
Of an old powerful house, is rich, is noble,
Is nobly loved. Are not these crimes enough
To stir our Doge's wrath?

Don.
No more of this!

Eriz.
Then his misgovernment, his tedious wars,
His waste of blood and treasure, that his son,
That idol of the soldiery, may glut
His lust of glorious battle! Senators,
Why should we thus submit to what we hate?
Why bow to whom we made? The Doge is now
Too old for his high office. Good my lords,
Let us resume our power. Is there no brow
In Venice that may bear this ducal crown
Save one? Will it not sit as gracefully
On vigorous manhood's clustering curls? On thine,
Donato? Or, Pisani, upon thine?
Or any man of us? Lords, have ye changed
Your purpose? That the Doge may be deposed
Is the fixed law of Venice. Are ye firm?
This is the moment.

Sen.
He must be unthroned.

Eriz.
Then be it done to-day.

2d Sen.
I'll join thee, Count.

3d Sen.
And I.

Eriz.
Donato, thou wilt best propose—

Don.
Oh no! He hath been harsh—but I have loved him—
We are old friends.

Sen.
Do it thyself, Erizzo.

Don.
But gently, reverently.

Enter Doge, Count Zeno, and other Senators.
Doge.
My gracious lords
I greet ye well! We are no truants, sirs,
This full assemblage honours our fair Venice,
Honours her senators. Signor Donato—
Nay shun me not—That post was promised to—
Thou wilt not hear! I have too often borne
With thy infirmity. Forget not, sir,
That thou'rt my friend, or I must needs remember
That I'm thy prince. Now to our business, lords.

Eriz.
Are there no letters from the army?

Doge.
None.
But there is through the city a loud bruit
Of victory.

Eriz.
In a well ordered state
There is no pause for rumour; certainty
Outspeeds her lying rival.

Doge.
Think'st thou, count,
That my old heart is quiet in this pause?
Thou hast no boy in yonder battle field,
Or thou would'st know how thirstily the soul
Of a father pants in his suspense for truth,
One single drop of sweet or bitter truth.
Enter Cosmo.
Who's that?

Sen.
Cosmo Donato, please you, Sir.

Doge.
Oh our young Secretary! Sit by me,
I had just missed thee, Cosmo. Was thy friend
Content?

Cos.
Oh never gratitude was clothed
In such pure joy. I would your Highness saw
The happiness you caused.

Doge.
Hush! Count Erizzo,
You were about to speak.

Eriz.
I was; and yet
I gladly would delay, gladly resign
A painful duty.

Doge.
If it touch me, Sir,
Speak.

Eriz.
Is there not, my lord, a law in Venice,
That if the Doge, by sickness, grief, or age,
Become incapable, he be removed?

Doge.
There is. Say on.

Eriz.
What need I to say more!
Know we not all the good Doge Foscari
Is turned of fourscore years? Fitter for him
To lay down the proud bonnet, which doth weigh
So heavily on those white hairs, and pass
In calm serene repose the evening hours
Of his unsullied life. So shall his sun,
Setting in tranquil beauty, leave a train
Of pure and cloudless light; so praised and loved
Shall he sink down to rest.

Doge.
This is not all.
On, on, my lord!

Eriz.
Fitter for us a man
Who shall remember in this state of Venice
There is another power great as himself,
And greater than the people. Howsoe'er
Thou hast the bearing, Doge, of a born prince,—
To us thy subjects, thou art but the head
Of the Venetian nobles. Thy proud rank
Was given by them, thy equals. Each great name
That now surrounds thee hath in turn adorned
Thy splendid office. Not a noble house
But is a link in the resplendent chain
Of old Venetian story. We are born
Lords of the Adriatic; not a name
But hath been vowed her spouse. Think not such names
Are common sounds; they have a music in them,
An odorous recollection, they are part
Of the old glorious past. Their country knows
And loves the lofty echo which gives back
The memory of the buried great; and we
Their sons—Oh our own names are watchwords to us
That call to valour and to victory,
To goodness and to freedom. This hast thou
Forgotten. Every creeping artisan,
Every hard-handed smoky slave is nearer
To our great Doge than we: to them all smiles
And princely graciousness—to us all frowns
And kingly pride. Fitter for us a Doge
Of a congenial spirit, to preside
Over our councils, and to guard and guide
The Senate and the State.

Zeno.
Perhaps Erizzo
Would deign to wear this care-encompassed crown?
Fy! Fy!

Eriz.
My voice is for Donato, Sir!

Cos.
My father Doge of Venice? Never! Never!
He will not, must not, shall not. All the world
Would join in one reproach; the very stones
Of Venice would cry out; and we, his children—
Oh we should die of grief and shame! What he
Supplant his friend, his dearest friend? Oh never!
Father, thou wilt not?

Sen.
Silence!

Eriz.
Signor Cosmo
Thou art not yet a Senator.

Cos.
My lords,
I pray your pardon; but if I had seen
A venomed serpent coiling round his limbs
And pressing him within its deadly clasp,
Would ye have blamed the cry that Nature sent?—
Thou wilt not be the Doge?

Don.
Never!

Cos.
My father
Forgive me that I feared. How could I fear!
Forgive me.

Doge.
Noble boy!—Hast thou said all?
That I am old, and that I love the people?
Are these my crimes? Oh I am doubly guilty!
I love them all, even ye that love me not!
I cannot chuse but love ye, for ye are
Venetians, quick, and proud, and sparkling eyed,
Venetians, brave and free. Ye are the lords
Of the bright sea-built city, beautiful
As storied Athens; or the gorgeous pride
Of Rome, eternal Rome; greater than kings
Are ye Venetian nobles—ye are free;
And that is greatness and nobility,
The source and end of power. That I have made
Liberty common as the common air,
The sun-light, or the rippling waves that wash
Our walls; that every citizen hath been
Free as a Senator; that I have ruled
In our fair Venice, as a father rules
In his dear household, nothing intermitting
Of needful discipline, but quenching fear
In an indulgent kindness; these ye call
My crimes. They are my boasts. Yes, I do love
The honest artizans; there's not a face
That smiles up at me with a kindly eye
But sends a warmth into my heart, a glow
Of buoyant youthfulness. Age doth not freeze
Our human sympathies; the sap fails not
Although the trunk be rugged. Age can feel,
And think, and act. Oh noble Senators,
Ye do mistake my crime. I am too young;
I am not like to die; and they who wait
Wax weary for my seat. I do not dote,
My lord Erizzo; Yet—
(Shouts without.)
Foscari! Foscari!

Doge.
What mean those shouts?

Cos.
Francesco Foscari!
There lives no other, whom a grateful people
Would greet as with one heart.

Enter Foscari.
Zeno.
My Lord Francesco!

Doge.
My son, my very son! Now I am young
And great and happy! Now I reign again,
My noblest son!

Fos.
Father! Why this is joy
Deeper than victory! Dost feel my heart?

Doge.
Art thou unhurt?

Fos.
Untouched. I almost shame
To want one glorious scar. How well he is!
What fire is in his eyes! Cosmo, thou too!—
But I have tidings that the Doge must hear
Upon his throne. High tidings, gracious lords!
My father,—take thy state.

Eriz.
(aside)
Lost! lost! All lost!
Another hour and that most hated boy
Had been most welcome!

Fos.
(to Cosmo)
Still as lovely, Cosmo?
And still as true?

Cos.
Yes! Yes!

Fos.
Will not the Doge
Assume the accustomed seat?

Doge.
My son, these lords,
These Senators, these mighty ones of Venice
Have found thy father old. Hadst thou returned
Some half hour later, thou hadst seen the throne
Filled by Donato, or his cousin Count.
Which hath thy voice, Francesco?

Fos.
Thou not Doge!
Erizzo climb into thy honoured seat,
Honoured by thee! Or thou, Donato, thou
Join with this false, ungrateful, heartless senate,
This shadow and this mockery of wisdom,
To cast aside the best and truest heart
That ever made our Venice rich and proud
And great and happy, to throw off thy Prince
Like an old garment! Shame! Thou that didst call
Thyself his friend! Shame! shame! My dearest Cosmo,
This was a grief to thee. Oh shame! shame! shame!

Don.
Rated again, and by a boy! I tell thee
I would not be the Doge.

Zeno.
My Lord Francesco,
Thy tidings.

Fos.
Take thy state, Doge Foscari.
From thee did I receive my maiden sword,
From thee my high commission; to none other
Will I resign them. Senators of Venice!
Ingrates! I bring ye victory and peace.
Victorious peace! Brescia is free, and Milan
Sues at your feet for peace. Her haughty Duke
Is Sforza's prisoner,—my prisoner, Doge,
And Sforza weds his heir.

Don.
Ha!

Fos.
(giving letters to the Doge)
Eight days hence
He will be here. See what he writes, my lord.
The Senate is amazed; yet from the field
We sent ye somewhat of this glorious tale.

Eriz.
Those letters reached not Venice.

Fos.
Count Erizzo,
I met the messenger, and staid my horse
To ask him of my father. He had stopt
Short of the palace, but had safely given
The packet to a Senator. Erizzo,
Thou wast the man. Look at him, ye that ever
Saw guilt ooze out in shame! Nay, tremble not;
I pardon thee. There is no other vengeance
For low dishonour. It would stain my sword
To dip it in thy blood.

Eriz.
My Lord Francesco,
I yet may find a time—

Fos.
I pardon thee.

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 men—
Rich in the only wealth the world can give,
A spotless name.

Doge.
Richest in thee. Nay, Zeno!

Zeno.
Ye must not leave us, lords. Doge, if again
We had to chuse, our choice again would fall
On Foscari. Is't not so?

Eriz.
(apart to a Sen.)
Sail with the stream—
Foscari!—I'll find a time—

Senators.
Foscari! Foscari!

Doge.
One still is silent.

Cos.
Now, my Father, now!
For thy fame's sake.

Don.
On Foscari.

Cos.
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.
Oh, no! no! no!
Bear not again that burthen.

Doge.
My Francesco,
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?

[Exeunt Doge, Zeno & Senators.
Fos.
Signor Donato,
I have a feeling here of deep old love
That tells me I have wronged-thee. If I have,
Forgive me!

Cos.
Father, canst thou turn away
When Foscari speaks those words which mortal ear
Ne'er heard him utter?

Fos.
If I did mistake,
'Twas in my Father's cause; 'twas such a wrong
As Cosmo would have done for thee. Forgive me,
For her dear sake.

Eriz.
(to Don.)
Remember, “Shame!”

Don.
Erizzo,
Think'st thou I can forget! Not even for her.
Stay me not, Cosmo.

[Exit Donato.
Cos.
Go, for I can trust
Thy kind heart, Father! Love, who is so strong
In gentleness. Love and his bondman Time
Will conquer anger. We must now submit.
To-morrow—

Fos.
Oh! what a long life of love
Must I give up! To-morrow! I am here,
Here in this happy Venice, which she makes
The palace of her beauty, where the air
Is sweetened by her breath, and her young voice
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.
That I might sooner gain
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
Shalt tell her these sweet things, mixed with a world
Of lovers' eloquence, of looks and sighs,
And broken words. Aye, 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 mayst ask for me
And find Camilla.

Fos.
Blessings on thee, friend!

Eriz.
To night!

[Exit.
Fos.
We have a hearer.

Cos.
He is gone.

Fos.
Beware that smooth Erizzo, dearest Cosmo,
Beware!

Cos.
Nay, Foscari, let me caution thee
Beware suspicion! Think him innocent
Till thou hast proved him guilty. Blackening doubt
Beseems not thy clear breast. Sweep it away.

Fos.
Oh, how I love the beautiful mistakes
Of thy unbounded charity! That man—
Didst thou not see him whispering Donato?
We will not think of him. Doth my Camilla
Talk of me often?

Cos.
Yes.

Fos.
Oh, I was sure!
But it is such a joy to hear that yes!
Doth she—

(Shouts without.)
Cos.
Hark! thou art called. The citizens
Demand their General. Go!

Fos.
I'd rather face
An enemy in battle.

Cos.
Thou wast wont
To love the people, Foscari.

Fos.
I would drain
The last drop in my veins for them and freedom;
But these loud shouts, this popular acclaim,
This withering, perishing blast of vulgar praise,
Whose noisy echoes do shake off the flush
Of Fame's young blossoms—Oh, I hate them all!
True honour should be silent, spotless, bright,
Enduring; trembling even at the breath
That wooes her beauty.

Cos.
Come.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Room in the Erizzo Palace.
Count Erizzo entering.
Eriz.
Seek Signor Celso.—Baffled, spurned, contemned,
Pardoned—the insolent! But he shall feel—
All lost! For old Donato, shallow fool,
Hath in his anger a relenting spirit
And will yield easy way at the first tear
The fair Camilla sheds—the very first!
She hath 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.
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.