Who sent up my appeal unto the Forty
To try him by his peers, his own tribunal.
Ber. F. His peers will scarce protect him; such an
Would bring contempt on all authority. [act
Doge. Know you not Venice? Know you not the
But we shall see anon.
[Forty?

Ber. F. (addressing VINCENZO, then entering.)
How now-what tidings?
Fin. I am charged to tell his highness that the court
Has pass'd its resolution, and that, soon
As the due forms of judgment are gone through,
The sentence will be sent up to the Doge;

In the mean time the Forty doth salute

The Prince of the Republic, and entreat
His acreptation of their duty.

And wise,

and just, and cautious-this I grantAnd secret as the grave to which they doom The guilty; but with all this, in their aspectsAt least in some, the juniors of the numberA searching eye, an eye like yours, Vincenzo, Would read the sentence ere it was pronounced. Vin. My lord, I came away upon the moment, And had no leisure to take note of that Which pass'd among the judges, even in seeming; My station near the accused too, Michel Steno, Made me-

Doge (abruptly). And how look'd he? deliver that. Vin. Calm, but not overcast, he stood resign'd To the decree, whate'er it were;-but lo! It comes, for the perusal of his highness.

Enter the SECRETARY of the Forty.

Sec. The high tribunal of the Forty sends
Health and respect to the Doge Faliero,
Chief magistrate of Venice, and requests
His highness to peruse and to approve

(1)Marino Faliero, dalla bella moglie-altrì la gode, ed egli la mantiene." Sanuto.-L. E.

(2) "It is not in the plot only, curtailed and crippled as is of what would have been its due proportions, that we think we can trace the injurious effects of Lord Byron's Continental prejudices and his choice of injudicious models. We trace them in the abruptness of his verse, which has all the harshness, though not all the vigour, of Alfieri, and which, instead of that richness and variety of cadence Which distinguishes even the most careless of our elder dramatists, is often only distinguishable from prose by the arelenting uniformity with which it is divided into deeasyllabic portions. The sentence of the College of Justice was likely, indeed, to be prosaic; and Shakspeare and our

Ber. F. (reading.)

Say on.

"Decreed

In council, without one dissenting voice,
That Michel Steno, by his own confession,
Guilty on the last night of carnival
Of having graven on the ducal throne
The following words——" (1)

Doge.
Wouldst thou repeat them?
Wouldst thou repeat them-thou, a Faliero,
Harp on the deep dishonour of our house,
Dishonour'd in its chief-that chief the prince
Of Venice, first of cities ?-To the sentence.
Ber. F. Forgive me, my good lord; I will obey-
(Reads.) "That Michel Steno be detain'd a month
In close arrest." (2)
Doge.
Ber. F.
Doge. How, say
'tis false-

Give me the paper

That Michel Steno".

Ber. F.

Proceed.

My lord, 'tis finish'd. you?-finish'd! Do I dream?—

(Snatches the paper and reads)

"'Tis decreed in council -Nephew, thine arm!

Nay,

Cheer up, be calm; this transport is uncall'd forLet me seek some assistance.

Doge.

'Tis past.

Stop, sir-Stir not--

Ber. F. 1 cannot but agree with you
The sentence is too slight for the offence---
It is not honourable in the Forty

To affix so slight a penalty to that
Which was a foul affront to you, and even
To them, as being your subjects; but 'tis not
Yet without remedy: you can appeal
To them once more, or to the Avogadori,
Who, seeing that true justice is withheld,
Will now take up the cause they once declined,
And do you right upon the bold delinquent.
Think you not thus, good uncle? why do you stand
So fix'd? You heed me not:-I pray you, hear me! (3)
Doge (dashing down the ducal bonnet, and offering
to trample upon it, exclaims, as he is withheld
by his nephew).

other elder tragedians would have given it as bona fide prose, without that affectation (for which, however, Lord Byron has many precedents in modern times) which condemns letters, proclamations, the speeches of the vulgar, and the outcries of the rabble and the soldiery, to strut in the same precise measure with the lofty musings and dignified resentment of the powerful and the wise:-but Bertuccio Faliero might as well have spoken poetry." Heber.-L. E.

(3) "The first scenes represent, rather tediously, the Doge waiting impatiently for the sentence of the senate, and rav ing very extravagantly at its lenity. We think all this part very heavily and even unskilfully executed; nor can it be at all surprising that ordinary readers should not enter into his highness's fury, when it appears that even his nephew

Venice' Duke!

Doge.
Who now is Duke in Venice? let me see him,
That he may do me right.

Ber. F.
If you forget
Your office, and its dignity and duty,
Remember that of man, and curb this passion.
The Duke of Venice-

Doge (interrupting him). There is no such thing-
It is a word--nay, worse-a worthless by-word:
The most despised, wrong'd, outraged, helpless wretch,
Who begs his bread, if 'tis refused by one,
May win it from another kinder heart;
But he, who is denied his right by those
Whose place it is to do no wrong,

poorer Than the rejected beggar-he's a slaveAnd that am I, and thou, and all our house, Even from this hour; the meanest artisan Will point the finger, and the haughty noble May spit upon us: where is our redress? Ber. F. The law, my prince

Doge (interrupting him). You see what it has doneI ask'd no remedy but from the law

I sought no vengeance but redress by law-
I call'd no judges but those named by law-
As sovereign, I appeal'd unto my subjects,
The very subjects who had made me sovereign,
And gave me thus a double right to be so.
The rights of place and choice, of birth and service,
Honours and years, these scars, these hoary hairs,
The travel, toil, the perils, the fatigues,
The blood and sweat of almost eighty years,
Were weigh'd i' the balance, 'gainst the foulest stain,
The grossest insult, most contemptuous crime
Of a rank rash patrician-and found wanting!
And this is to be borne!

I grant it was a gross offence, and grossly
Left without fitting punishment: but still
This fury doth exceed the provocation,
Or any provocation: if we are wrong'd,
We will ask justice; if it be denied,

does not at first understand it. This dutiful person comments thus calmly on the matter, in a speech which, though set down by Lord Byron in lines of ten syllables, we shall take the liberty to print as prose--which it undoubtedly is -and very ordinary and homely prose too :- Ber. Fal. I cannot but agree with you, the sentence is too slight for the offence. It is not honourable in the Forty to affix so slight a penalty to that which was a foul affront to you, and even to them, as being your subjects; but 't is not yet without

We'll take it; but may do all this in calmness-
Deep Vengeance is the daughter of deep Silence.
I have yet scarce a third part of your years,
I love our house, I honour you, its chief,
The guardian of my youth, and its instructor-
But though I understand your grief, and enter
In part of your disdain, it doth appal me
To see your anger, like our Adrian waves,
O'ersweep all bounds, and foam itself to air.

Doge. I tell thee-must I tell thee-what thy father
Would have required no words to comprehend?
Hast thou no feeling save the external sense
Of torture from the touch? hast thou no soul-
No pride no passion-no deep sense of honour?

Ber. F. 'Tis the first time that honour has been And were the last, from any other sceptic. [doubted,

Doge. You know the full offence of this born villam, This creeping, coward, rank, acquitted felon, Who threw his sting into a poisonous libel, (1) And on the honour of-O God!—my wife, The nearest, dearest part of all men's honour, Left a base slur to pass from mouth to mouth Of loose mechanics, with all coarse foul comments, And villanous jests, and blasphemies obscene; While sneering nobles, in more polish'd guise, Whisper'd the tale, and smiled upon the lie Which made me look like them-a courteous witt, Patient-ay, proud, it may be, of dishonour.

Ber. F. But still it was a lie-you knew it false, And so did all men.

Doge. Nephew, the high Roman Said, "Cæsar's wife, must not even be suspected," And put her from him.

Doge. It is-it is;-I did not visit on
The innocent creature, thus most vilely slander'd
Because she took an old man for her lord,
For that he had been long her father's friend
And patron of her house, as if there were
No love in woman's heart but lust of youth
And beardless faces;-I did not for this
Visit the villain's infamy on her,

But craved my country's justice on his head,
The justice due unto the humblest being
Who hath a wife whose faith is sweet to him,
Who hath a home whose hearth is dear to him,
Who hath a name whose honour's all to him,
When these are tainted by the accursing breath
Of calumny and scorn.

Ber. F.
And what redress
Did you expect as his fit punishment?

Doge. Death! Was I not the sovereign of the stateInsulted on his very throne, and made

A mockery to the men who should obey me?

remedy you can appeal to them once more, or to the Ar gadori, who, seeing that true justice is withheld, will no take up the cause they once declined, and do you rig upon the bold delinquent. Think you not thus, good uncle Why do you stand so fixed? You beed me not. I pra you, hear me.'" Jeffrey.-L. E.

(1) In the MS.-

Who threw his sting into a poisonous rhyme."-L. E

Obey them!

Tho have forgot their duty to the sovereign?
Doge. Why yes;-boy, you perceive it then at last :
Whether as fellow-citizen who sues

For justice, or as sovereign who commands it,
Tory have defrauded me of both my rights
For here the sovereign is a citizen);
But, notwithstanding, harm not thou a hair
Of Steno's head-he shall not wear it long.

Ber. F. Not twelve hours longer, had you left to me The mode and means: if you had calmly heard me, sever meant this miscreant should escape,

at wish'd you to suppress such gusts of passion, hat we more surely might devise together

is taking off.

Doge.
No, nephew, he must live,
least, just now-a life so vile as his
Fere nothing at this hour; in the olden time

me sacrifices ask'd a single victim,

reat expiations had a hecatomb.

Ber. F. Your wishes are my law: and yet I fain

oald
prove to you how near unto my heart

e honour of our house must ever be.

Dage. Fear not; you shall have time and place of [proof:

it be not thou too rash, as I have been. nashamed of my own anger now;

pray you, pardon me.

Ber. F.

Why that's my uncle!

leader, and the statesman, and the chief

commonwealths, and sovereign of himself!

Wonder'd to perceive you so forget

prudence in your fury at these years, though the cause

Doge.

Ay, think upon the cause—

get it not:-When you lie down to rest,
it be black among your dreams; and when
morn returns, so let it stand between

Sun and you, as an ill-omen'd cloud

a summer-day of festival:

will it stand to me;-but speak not, stir not,—

The youth, being at last talked into a better sense of at their house's honour requires, leaves the Doge brooding

Bome terrible revenge.

At this moment, the captain of alley comes to complain of an insult he had just received a senator; and when the Doge rails at the whole se

Leave all to me;-we shall have much to do, And you shall have a part.-But now retire, 'Tis fit I were alone.

in terms of great bitterness, is encouraged to inform that a plot is on foot for its destruction, which he

Ber. F. (taking up and placing the ducal bonnet on the table.) Ere I depart,

I pray you to resume what you have spurn'd,
Till you can change it, haply for a crown.
And now I take my leave, imploring you
In all things to rely upon my duty,

As doth become your near and faithful kinsman,
And not less loyal citizen and subject.

[Exit BERTUCCIO FALIERO.
Doge (solus). Adieu, my worthy nephew.-(1)
Hollow bauble! [Taking up the ducal cap.
Beset with all the thorns that line a crown,
Without investing the insulted brow
With the all-swaying majesty of kings;
Thou idle, gilded, and degraded toy,

Let me resume thee as I would a vizor. [Puts it on.
How my brain aches beneath thee! and my temples
Throb feverish under thy dishonest weight.
Could I not turn thee to a diadem?
Could I not shatter the Briarean sceptre
Which in this hundred-handed senate rules,
Making the people nothing, and the prince
A pageant? In my life I have achieved
Tasks not less difficult-achieved for them,
Who thus repay me!-Can I not requite them?
Oh for one year! Oh! but for even a day
Of my full youth, while yet my body served
My soul as serves the generous steed his lord,
I would have dash'd amongst them, asking few
In aid to overthrow these swoln patricians;
But now I must look round for other hands
To serve this hoary head;-but it shall plan
In such a sort as will not leave the task
Herculean, though as yet 'tis but a chaos
Of darkly-brooding thoughts: my fancy is
In her first work, more nearly to the light
Holding the sleeping images of things
For the selection of the pausing judgment.
The troops are few in-

Doge.

I'm unwell

I can see no one, not even a patrician-
Let him refer his business to the council.
Vin. My lord, I will deliver your reply;
It cannot much import-he's a plebeian,
The master of a galley, I believe.

Doge. How did you say the patron of a galley?
That is I mean-a servant of the state:
Admit him, he may be on public service.

[Exit VINCENZO. Doge (solus). This patron may be sounded; I will I know the people to be discontented: [try him.

They have cause, since Sapienza's adverse day,
When Genoa conquer'd: they have further cause,
Since they are nothing in the state, and in
The city worse than nothing-mere machines,

would do well to join: to which his highness, with marvellous little hesitation, assents, and agrees to come at midnight to this assemblage of plebeian desperadoes. If this were ever so authentically set down in history-which, however, it is not-it would still be a great deal too improbable for a modern tragedy." Jeffrey.-L. E.

To serve the nobles' most patrician pleasure.
The troops have long arrears of pay, oft promised,
And murmur deeply-any hope of change
Will draw them forward: they shall pay themselves
With plunder:--but the priests-I doubt the priest-
Will not be with us; they have hated me [hood
Since that rash hour, when, madden'd with the drone,
I smote the tardy bishop at Treviso, (1)
Quickening his holy march; yet, ne'ertheless,
They may be won, at least their chief at Rome,
By some well-timed concessions; but, above
All things, I must be speedy: at my hour
Of twilight little light of life remains.
Could I free Venice, and avenge my wrongs,
I had lived too long, and willingly would sleep
Next moment with my sires; and, wanting this,
Better that sixty of my fourscore years

Had been already where-how soon, I care not-
The whole must be extinguish'd;-better that
They ne'er had been, than drag me ou to be
The thing these arch-oppressors fain would make me.
Let me consider-of efficient troops

There are three thousand posted at

Enter VINCENZO and ISRAEL BERTUCCIO.
Vin.

May it please
Your highness, the same patron whom I spake of
Is here to crave your patience.

Doge.

Vincenzo.

Leave the chamber, [Exit VINCENZO.

Doge. What was the cause? or the pretext? I. Ber. I am the chief of the arsenal, (2) employ'd At present in repairing certain galleys But roughly used by the Genoese last year. This morning comes the noble Barbaro Full of reproof, because our artisans Had left some frivolous order of his house, To execute the state's decree; I dared To justify the men-he raised his hand;Behold my blood! the first time it e'er flow'd Dishonourably. Doge.

Have you long time served?

I. Ber. So long as to remember Zara's siege, And fight beneath the chief who beat the Huns there, Sometime my general, now the Doge Faliero.

[robes

man

Doge How are we comrades?-the state's ducal Sit newly on me, and you were appointed Chief of the arsenal ere I came from Rome; So that I recognised you not. Who placed you? I. Ber. The late Doge; keeping still my old com As patron of a galley: my new office Was given as the reward of certain scars (So was your predecessor pleased to say): I little thought his bounty would conduct me To his successor as a helpless plaintiff'"; At least, in such a cause. Doge. Are you much hurt? 1. Ber. Irreparably, in my self-esteem. Doge. Speak out; fear nothing: being stung at hear What would you do to be revenged on this man? I. Ber. That which I dare not name, and yet will Doge. Then wherefore came you here? I. Ber. I come for justic Because my general is Doge, and will not See his old soldier trampled on. Had any, Save Faliero, fill'd the ducal throne, This blood had been wash'd out in other blood. Doge. You come to me for justice-unto me! The Doge of Venice, and I cannot give it; I cannot even obtain it-'t was denied To me most solemnly an hour ago. I. Ber. How says your highness? Doge.

To a month's confinement.

Steno is conden

I. Ber.
What! the same who da
To stain the ducal throne with those foul words,
That have cried shame to every ear in Venice?
Doge. Ay, doubtless they have echo'd o'er
arsenal,
Keeping due time with every hammer's clink
As a good jest to jolly artisans;

Or making chorus to the creaking oar,
In the vile tune of every galley-slave,
Who, as he sung the merry stave, exulted
He was not a shamed dotard like the Doge.
I. Ber. Is't possible? a month's imprisonmen
No more for Steno?

Doge. You have heard the offend And now you know his punishment; and then You ask redress of me! Go to the Forty, Who pass'd the sentence upon Michel Steno; with his life. He mounted guard at the ducal palace d an interregnum, and bore the red standard before th Doge on his inauguration; for which service bis perq were the ducal mantle, and the two silver basi which the Doge scattered the regulated pittance whi was permitted to throw among the people. Ameli Houssaye, 79.-L. E.

They'll do as much by Barbaro, no doubt.
1. Ber. Ah! dared I speak my feelings!
Doge
Give them breath;
Mine bave no further outrage to endure.

I. Ber. Then, in a word, it rests but on your word
To punish and avenge-I will not say
My petty wrong, for what is a mere blow,
However vile, to such a thing as I am?-
But the base insult done your state and person.
Doge. You overrate my power, which is a pageant.
This cap is not the monarch's crown; these robes
Might move compassion, like a beggar's rags ;
Nay, more, a beggar's are his own, and these
Bat lent to the poor puppet, who must play
Its part with all its empire in this ermine.
L. Ber. Wouldst thou be king?
Doge.

Yes-of a happy people. I. Ber. Wouldst thou be sovereign lord of Venice? (1) Doge.

If that the people shared that sovereignty, So that nor they nor I were further slaves

To this o'ergrown aristocratic hydra,

The poisonous heads of whose envenom❜d body Have breathed a pestilence upon us all.

Ay,

[patrician.

I. Ber. Yet, thou wast born, and still hast lived, Doge. In evil hour was I so born; my birth Hath made me Doge to be insulted: but

I lived and toil'd a soldier and a servant

Of Venice and her people, not the senate;

Their good and my own honour were my guerdon.
I have fought and bled; commanded, ay, and con-
quer'd;

Have made and marr'd peace oft in embassies,
As it might chance to be our country's 'vantage;
Have traversed land and sea in constant duty,
Through almost sixty years, and still for Venice,
My fathers' and my birthplace, whose dear spires,
Rising at distance o'er the blue Lagoon,
It was reward enough for me to view
Once more; but not for any knot of men,
Nor sect, nor faction, did I bleed or sweat!
Bat would you know why I have done all this?

| Ask of the bleeding pelican why she

Hath ripp'd her bosom? Had the bird a voice,
She'd tell thee 'twas for all her little ones.

I. Ber. And yet they made thee duke.
Doge.

They made me so; I sought it not, the flattering fetters met me Returning from my Roman embassy,

And never having hitherto refused

Toil, charge, or duty for the state, I did not,

At these late years, decline what was the highest
Of all in seeming, but of all most base

In what we have to do and to endure:
Bear witness for me thou, my injured subject,

(1) Upon this the Admiral returned, 'My Lord Duke, if you would wish to make yourself a prince, and cut all those cuckoldy gentlemen to pieces, I have the heart, if you do but help me, to make you prince of all the state; and then you may punish them all.' Hearing this, the Duke said,How can such a matter be brought about?' and so they discoursed thereon." Such is Sanuto's narrative, and we have nothing more certain to offer. It is not easy to say whence he obtained his intelligence. If such a conversation as that which he relates really did occur, it must have taken place without the presence of witnesses, and therefore could be disclosed only by one of the parties. It is far more likely that the chronicler is relating that which he supposed, than that which he knew; and, as it must be admitted that the interview with the admiral of the arsenal occurred, and

Not thou,

Nor I alone, are injured and abused,
Contemn'd and trampled on; but the whole people
Groan with the strong conception of their wrongs:
The foreign soldiers in the senate's pay
Are discontented for their long arrears;
The native mariners, and civic troops,

Feel with their friends; for who is he amongst them
Whose brethren, parents, children, wives, or sisters,
Have not partook oppression, or pollution,
From the patricians? And the hopeless war
Against the Genoese, which is still maintain'd
With the plebeian blood, and treasure wrung
From their hard earnings, has inflamed them further:
Even now-but, I forget that, speaking thus,
Perhaps I pass the sentence of my death!

Doge. And suffering what thou hast done-fear'st
thou death?

Be silent then, and live on, to be beaten
By those for whom thou hast bled.

I. Ber.

No, I will speak

At every hazard; and if Venice' Doge
Should turn delator, be the shame on him,
And sorrow too; for he will lose far more
Than I.

Doge. From me fear nothing; out with it!
I. Ber. Know then, that there are met and sworn

in secret (2)

A band of brethren, valiant hearts and true;
Men who have proved all fortunes, and have long
Grieved over that of Venice, and have right
To do so; having served her in all climes,
And having rescued her from foreign foes,
Would do the same from those within her walls.
They are not numerous, nor yet too few

For their great purpose; they have arms, and means,
And hearts, and hopes, and faith, and patient courage.
Doge. For what then do they pause?

I. Ber.
An hour to strike.
Doge (aside). Saint Mark's shall strike that hour! (3)
I. Ber.
I now have placed

My life, my honour, all my earthly hopes
Within thy power, but in the firm belief
That injuries like ours, sprung from one cause,
Will generate one vengeance: should it be so,
Be our chief now--our sovereign hereafter.

that immediately after it the Doge was found linked with the daring band of which that officer was chief, there is no violation of probability in granting that some such conversation took place; and that the train was ignited by this collision of two angry spirits." See Sketches of Venetian History (forming vols. xx. and xxi. of The Family Library), vol. i. p. 265.-L. E.

(2) Galt suggests that this description of the conspirators is applicable to, as it was probably derived from, the Carbonari, with whom Byron was himself disposed to take a part.-P. E.

(3) The bells of San Marco were never rung but by order of the Doge. One of the pretexts for ringing this alarm was to have been an announcement of the appearance of a Genoese fleet off the Lagune.