The Works of Lord Byron, Volume 4

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_Enter_ ANTONIO.

_Ant_. My Lord, a man without, on urgent business,
Implores to be admitted.

_Lioni_. Is he a stranger?[ei]

_Ant_. His face is muffled in his cloak, but both
His voice and gestures seem familiar to me;[ej]
I craved his name, but this he seemed reluctant
To trust, save to yourself; most earnestly
He sues to be permitted to approach you.

_Lioni_. 'Tis a strange hour, and a suspicious bearing! 120
And yet there is slight peril: 'tis not in
Their houses noble men are struck at; still,
Although I know not that I have a foe
In Venice, 'twill be wise to use some caution.
Admit him, and retire; but call up quickly
Some of thy fellows, who may wait without.--
Who can this man be?--
[_Exit_ ANTONIO, _and returns with_ BERTRAM _muffled_.

_Ber_. My good Lord Lioni,
I have no time to lose, nor thou,--dismiss
This menial hence; I would be private with you.

_Lioni_. It seems the voice of Bertram--Go, Antonio. 130
[_Exit_ ANTONIO.
Now, stranger, what would you at such an hour?

_Ber_. (_discovering himself_).
A boon, my noble patron; you have granted
Many to your poor client, Bertram; add
This one, and make him happy.

_Lioni_. Thou hast known me
From boyhood, ever ready to assist thee
In all fair objects of advancement, which
Beseem one of thy station; I would promise
Ere thy request was heard, but that the hour,
Thy bearing, and this strange and hurried mode
Of suing, gives me to suspect this visit 140
Hath some mysterious import--but say on--
What has occurred, some rash and sudden broil?--
A cup too much, a scuffle, and a stab?
Mere things of every day; so that thou hast not
Spilt noble blood, I guarantee thy safety;
But then thou must withdraw, for angry friends
And relatives, in the first burst of vengeance,
Are things in Venice deadlier than the laws.

_Ber_. My Lord, I thank you; but----

_Lioni_. But what? You have not
Raised a rash hand against one of our order? 150
If so--withdraw and fly--and own it not;[ek]
I would not slay--but then I must not save thee!
He who has shed patrician blood----

_Ber_. I come
To save patrician blood, and not to shed it!
And thereunto I must be speedy, for
Each minute lost may lose a life; since Time
Has changed his slow scythe for the two-edged sword,
And is about to take, instead of sand,
The dust from sepulchres to fill his hour-glass!--
Go not _thou_ forth to-morrow!

_Lioni_. Wherefore not?-- 160
What means this menace?

_Ber_. Do not seek its meaning,
But do as I implore thee;--stir not forth,
Whate'er be stirring; though the roar of crowds--
The cry of women, and the shrieks of babes--
The groans of men--the clash of arms--the sound
Of rolling drum, shrill trump, and hollow bell,
Peal in one wide alarum l--Go not forth,
Until the Tocsin's silent, nor even then
Till I return!

_Lioni_. Again, what does this mean?

_Ber_. Again, I tell thee, ask not; but by all 170
Thou holdest dear on earth or Heaven--by all
The Souls of thy great fathers, and thy hope
To emulate them, and to leave behind
Descendants worthy both of them and thee--
By all thou hast of blessed in hope or memory--
By all thou hast to fear here or hereafter--
By all the good deeds thou hast done to me,
Good I would now repay with greater good,[el]
Remain within--trust to thy household gods,[em]
And to my word for safety, if thou dost, 180
As I now counsel--but if not, thou art lost!

_Lioni_. I am indeed already lost in wonder;
Surely thou ravest! what have _I_ to dread?
Who are my foes? or if there be such, _why_
Art _thou_ leagued with them?--_thou!_ or, if so leagued,
Why comest thou to tell me at this hour,
And not before?

_Ber_. I cannot answer this.
Wilt thou go forth despite of this true warning?

_Lioni_. I was not born to shrink from idle threats,
The cause of which I know not: at the hour 190
Of council, be it soon or late, I shall not
Be found among the absent.

_Ber_. Say not so!
Once more, art thou determined to go forth?

_Lioni_. I am. Nor is there aught which shall impede me!

_Ber_. Then, Heaven have mercy on thy soul!--Farewell!
[_Going_.

_Lioni_. Stay--there is more in this than my own safety
Which makes me call thee back; we must not part thus:
Bertram, I have known thee long.

_Ber_. From childhood, Signor,
You have been my protector: in the days
Of reckless infancy, when rank forgets, 200
Or, rather, is not yet taught to remember
Its cold prerogative, we played together;
Our sports, our smiles, our tears, were mingled oft;
My father was your father's client, I
His son's scarce less than foster-brother; years
Saw us together--happy, heart-full hours!
Oh God! the difference 'twixt those hours and this!

_Lioni_. Bertram, 'tis thou who hast forgotten them.

_Ber_. Nor now, nor ever; whatsoe'er betide,
I would have saved you: when to Manhood's growth 210
We sprung, and you, devoted to the state,
As suits your station, the more humble Bertram
Was left unto the labours of the humble,
Still you forsook me not; and if my fortunes
Have not been towering, 'twas no fault of him
Who ofttimes rescued and supported me,
When struggling with the tides of Circumstance,
Which bear away the weaker: noble blood
Ne'er mantled in a nobler heart than thine
Has proved to me, the poor plebeian Bertram. 220
Would that thy fellow Senators were like thee!

_Lioni_. Why, what hast thou to say against the Senate?[en]

_Ber_. Nothing.

_Lioni_. I know that there are angry spirits
And turbulent mutterers of stifled treason,
Who lurk in narrow places, and walk out
Muffled to whisper curses to the night;
Disbanded soldiers, discontented ruffians,
And desperate libertines who brawl in taverns;
_Thou_ herdest not with such: 'tis true, of late
I have lost sight of thee, but thou wert wont 230
To lead a temperate life, and break thy bread
With honest mates, and bear a cheerful aspect.
What hath come to thee? in thy hollow eye
And hueless cheek, and thine unquiet motions,
Sorrow and Shame and Conscience seem at war
To waste thee.

_Ber_. Rather Shame and Sorrow light
On the accursed tyranny which rides[eo]
The very air in Venice, and makes men
Madden as in the last hours of the plague
Which sweeps the soul deliriously from life! 240

_Lioni_. Some villains have been tampering with thee, Bertram;
This is not thy old language, nor own thoughts;
Some wretch has made thee drunk with disaffection:
But thou must not be lost so; thou _wert_ good
And kind, and art not fit for such base acts
As Vice and Villany would put thee to:
Confess--confide in me--thou know'st my nature.
What is it thou and thine are bound to do,
Which should prevent thy friend, the only son
Of him who was a friend unto thy father, 250
So that our good-will is a heritage
We should bequeath to our posterity
Such as ourselves received it, or augmented;
I say, what is it thou must do, that I
Should deem thee dangerous, and keep the house
Like a sick girl?

_Ber_. Nay, question me no further:
I must be gone.----

_Lioni_. And I be murdered!--say,
Was it not thus thou said'st, my gentle Bertram?

_Ber_. Who talks of murder? what said I of murder?
Tis false! I did not utter such a word. 260

_Lioni_. Thou didst not; but from out thy wolfish eye,
So changed from what I knew it, there glares forth
The gladiator. If _my_ life's thine object,
Take it--I am unarmed,--and then away!
I would not hold my breath on such a tenure[ep]
As the capricious mercy of such things
As thou and those who have set thee to thy task-work.

_Ber_. Sooner than spill thy blood, I peril mine;
Sooner than harm a hair of thine, I place
In jeopardy a thousand heads, and some 270
As noble, nay, even nobler than thine own.

_Lioni_. Aye, is it even so? Excuse me, Bertram;
I am not worthy to be singled out
From such exalted hecatombs--who are they
That _are_ in danger, and that _make_ the danger?

_Ber_. Venice, and all that she inherits, are
Divided like a house against itself,
And so will perish ere to-morrow's twilight!

_Lioni_. More mysteries, and awful ones! But now,
Or thou, or I, or both, it may be, are 280
Upon the verge of ruin; speak once out,
And thou art safe and glorious: for 'tis more
Glorious to save than slay, and slay i' the dark too--
Fie, Bertram! that was not a craft for thee!
How would it look to see upon a spear
The head of him whose heart was open to thee!
Borne by thy hand before the shuddering people?
And such may be my doom; for here I swear,
Whate'er the peril or the penalty
Of thy denunciation, I go forth, 290
Unless thou dost detail the cause, and show
The consequence of all which led thee here!

_Ber_. Is there no way to save thee? minutes fly,
And thou art lost!--_thou_! my sole benefactor,
The only being who was constant to me
Through every change. Yet, make me not a traitor!
Let me save thee--but spare my honour!

_Lioni_. Where
Can lie the honour in a league of murder?
And who are traitors save unto the State?

_Ber_. A league is still a compact, and more binding 300
In honest hearts when words must stand for law;
And in my mind, there is no traitor like
He whose domestic treason plants the poniard[435]
Within the breast which trusted to his truth.
Lioni. And who will strike the steel to mine?

_Ber_. Not I;
I could have wound my soul up to all things
Save this. _Thou_ must not die! and think how dear
Thy life is, when I risk so many lives,
Nay, more, the Life of lives, the liberty
Of future generations, _not_ to be 310
The assassin thou miscall'st me:--once, once more
I do adjure thee, pass not o'er thy threshold!

_Lioni_. It is in vain--this moment I go forth.

_Ber_. Then perish Venice rather than my friend!
I will disclose--ensnare--betray--destroy--
Oh, what a villain I become for thee!

_Lioni_. Say, rather thy friend's saviour and the State's!--
Speak--pause not--all rewards, all pledges for
Thy safety and thy welfare; wealth such as
The State accords her worthiest servants; nay, 330
Nobility itself I guarantee thee,
So that thou art sincere and penitent.

_Ber_. I have thought again: it must not be--I love thee--
Thou knowest it--that I stand here is the proof,
Not least though last; but having done my duty
By thee, I now must do it by my country!
Farewell--we meet no more in life!--farewell!

_Lioni_. What, ho!--Antonio--Pedro--to the door!
See that none pass--arrest this man!----

_Enter_ ANTONIO _and other armed Domestics, who seize_ BERTRAM.

_Lioni_ (_continues_). Take care
He hath no harm; bring me my sword and cloak, 330
And man the gondola with four oars--quick--
[_Exit_ ANTONIO.
We will unto Giovanni Gradenigo's,
And send for Marc Cornaro:--fear not, Bertram;
This needful violence is for thy safety,
No less than for the general weal.

_Ber_. Where wouldst thou
Bear me a prisoner?

_Lioni_. Firstly to "the Ten;"
Next to the Doge.

_Ber_. To the Doge?

_Lioni_. Assuredly:
Is he not Chief of the State?

_Ber_. Perhaps at sunrise--

_Lioni_. What mean you?--but we'll know anon.

_Ber_. Art sure?

_Lioni_. Sure as all gentle means can make; and if 340
They fail, you know "the Ten" and their tribunal,
And that St. Mark's has dungeons, and the dungeons
A rack.

_Ber_. Apply it then before the dawn
Now hastening into heaven.--One more such word,
And you shall perish piecemeal, by the death
You think to doom to me.

_Re-enter_ ANTONIO.

_Ant_. The bark is ready,
My Lord, and all prepared.

_Lioni_. Look to the prisoner.
Bertram, I'll reason with thee as we go
To the Magnifico's, sage Gradenigo. [_Exeunt_.

SCENE II.--_The Ducal Palace_--_The Doge's Apartment_.

_The_ DOGE _and his Nephew_ BERTUCCIO FALIERO.

_Doge_. Are all the people of our house in muster?

_Ber. F._ They are arrayed, and eager for the signal,
Within our palace precincts at San Polo:[436]
I come for your last orders.

_Doge_. It had been
As well had there been time to have got together,
From my own fief, Val di Marino, more
Of our retainers--but it is too late.

_Ber. F._ Methinks, my Lord,'tis better as it is:
A sudden swelling of our retinue
Had waked suspicion; and, though fierce and trusty, 10
The vassals of that district are too rude
And quick in quarrel to have long maintained
The secret discipline we need for such
A service, till our foes are dealt upon.

_Doge_. True; but when once the signal has been given,
_These_ are the men for such an enterprise;
These city slaves have all their private bias,
Their prejudice _against_ or _for_ this noble,
Which may induce them to o'erdo or spare
Where mercy may be madness; the fierce peasants, 20
Serfs of my county of Val di Marino,
Would do the bidding of their lord without
Distinguishing for love or hate his foes;
Alike to them Marcello or Cornaro,
A Gradenigo or a Foscari;[eq]
They are not used to start at those vain names,
Nor bow the knee before a civic Senate;
A chief in armour is their Suzerain,
And not a thing in robes.

_Ber. F._ We are enough;
And for the dispositions of our clients 30
Against the Senate I will answer.

_Doge_. Well,
The die is thrown; but for a warlike service,
Done in the field, commend me to my peasants:
They made the sun shine through the host of Huns
When sallow burghers slunk back to their tents,
And cowered to hear their own victorious trumpet.
If there be small resistance, you will find
These Citizens all Lions, like their Standard;[437]
But if there's much to do, you'll wish, with me,
A band of iron rustics at our backs. 40

_Ber_. Thus thinking, I must marvel you resolve
To strike the blow so suddenly.

_Doge_. Such blows
Must be struck suddenly or never. When
I had o'ermastered the weak false remorse
Which yearned about my heart, too fondly yielding
A moment to the feelings of old days,
I was most fain to strike; and, firstly, that
I might not yield again to such emotions;
And, secondly, because of all these men,
Save Israel and Philip Calendaro, 50
I know not well the courage or the faith:
To-day might find 'mongst them a traitor to us,
As yesterday a thousand to the Senate;
But once in, with their hilts hot in their hands,
They must _on_ for their own sakes; one stroke struck,
And the mere instinct of the first-born Cain,
Which ever lurks somewhere in human hearts,
Though Circumstance may keep it in abeyance,
Will urge the rest on like to wolves; the sight
Of blood to crowds begets the thirst of more, 60
As the first wine-cup leads to the long revel;
And you will find a harder task to quell
Than urge them when they _have_ commenced, but _till_
That moment, a mere voice, a straw, a shadow,
Are capable of turning them aside.--
How goes the night?

_Ber. F._ Almost upon the dawn.

_Doge_. Then it is time to strike upon the bell.
Are the men posted?

_Ber. F._ By this time they are;
But they have orders not to strike, until
They have command from you through me in person. 70

_Doge_. 'Tis well.--Will the morn never put to rest
These stars which twinkle yet o'er all the heavens?
I am settled and bound up, and being so,
The very effort which it cost me to
Resolve to cleanse this Commonwealth with fire,
Now leaves my mind more steady. I have wept,
And trembled at the thought of this dread duty;
But now I have put down all idle passion,
And look the growing tempest in the face,
As doth the pilot of an Admiral Galley:[438] 80
Yet (wouldst thou think it, kinsman?) it hath been
A greater struggle to me, than when nations
Beheld their fate merged in the approaching fight,
Where I was leader of a phalanx, where
Thousands were sure to perish--Yes, to spill
The rank polluted current from the veins
Of a few bloated despots needed more
To steel me to a purpose such as made
Timoleon immortal,[439] than to face
The toils and dangers of a life of war. 90

_Ber. F._ It gladdens me to see your former wisdom
Subdue the furies which so wrung you ere
You were decided.

_Doge_. It was ever thus
With me; the hour of agitation came
In the first glimmerings of a purpose, when
Passion had too much room to sway; but in
The hour of action I have stood as calm
As were the dead who lay around me: this
They knew who made me what I am, and trusted
To the subduing power which I preserved 100
Over my mood, when its first burst was spent.
But they were not aware that there are things
Which make revenge a virtue by reflection,
And not an impulse of mere anger; though
The laws sleep, Justice wakes, and injured souls
Oft do a public right with private wrong,
And justify their deeds unto themselves.--
Methinks the day breaks--is it not so? look,
Thine eyes are clear with youth;--the air puts on
A morning freshness, and, at least to me, 110
The sea looks greyer through the lattice.

_Ber. F._ True,
The morn is dappling in the sky.[er][440]

_Doge_. Away then!
See that they strike without delay, and with
The first toll from St. Mark's, march on the palace
With all our House's strength; here I will meet you;
The Sixteen and their companies will move
In separate columns at the self-same moment:
Be sure you post yourself at the great Gate:
I would not trust "the Ten" except to us--
The rest, the rabble of patricians, may 120
Glut the more careless swords of those leagued with us.
Remember that the cry is still "Saint Mark!
The Genoese are come--ho! to the rescue!
Saint Mark and Liberty!"--Now--now to action![es]

_Ber. F._ Farewell then, noble Uncle! we will meet
In freedom and true sovereignty, or never!

_Doge_. Come hither, my Bertuccio--one embrace;
Speed, for the day grows broader; send me soon
A messenger to tell me how all goes
When you rejoin our troops, and then sound--sound 130
The storm-bell from St. Mark's![et]
[_Exit_ BERTUCCIO FALIERO.

_Doge_ (_solus_). He is gone,
And on each footstep moves a life. 'Tis done.[441]
Now the destroying Angel hovers o'er
Venice, and pauses ere he pours the vial,
Even as the eagle overlooks his prey,
And for a moment, poised in middle air,
Suspends the motion of his mighty wings,
Then swoops with his unerring beak.[442] Thou Day!
That slowly walk'st the waters! march--march on--
I would not smite i' the dark, but rather see 140
That no stroke errs. And you, ye blue sea waves!
I have seen you dyed ere now, and deeply too,
With Genoese, Saracen, and Hunnish gore,
While that of Venice flowed too, but victorious:
Now thou must wear an unmixed crimson; no
Barbaric blood can reconcile us now
Unto that horrible incarnadine,
But friend or foe will roll in civic slaughter.
And have I lived to fourscore years[443] for this?
I, who was named Preserver of the City? 150
I, at whose name the million's caps were flung[eu]
Into the air, and cries from tens of thousands
Rose up, imploring Heaven to send me blessings,
And fame, and length of days--to see this day?
But this day, black within the calendar,
Shall be succeeded by a bright millennium.
Doge Dandolo survived to ninety summers
To vanquish empires, and refuse their crown;[444]
I will resign a crown, and make the State
Renew its freedom--but oh! by what means? 160
The noble end must justify them. What
Are a few drops of human blood? 'tis false,
The blood of tyrants is not human; they,
Like to incarnate Molochs, feed on ours,
Until 'tis time to give them to the tombs
Which they have made so populous.--Oh World!
Oh Men! what are ye, and our best designs,
That we must work by crime to punish crime?
And slay as if Death had but this one gate,
When a few years would make the sword superfluous? 170
And I, upon the verge of th' unknown realm,
Yet send so many heralds on before me?--
I must not ponder this. [_A pause._
Hark! was there not
A murmur as of distant voices, and
The tramp of feet in martial unison?
What phantoms even of sound our wishes raise!
It cannot be--the signal hath not rung--
Why pauses it? My nephew's messenger
Should be upon his way to me, and he
Himself perhaps even now draws grating back 180
Upon its ponderous hinge the steep tower portal,
Where swings the sullen huge oracular bell,[ev]
Which never knells but for a princely death,
Or for a state in peril, pealing forth
Tremendous bodements; let it do its office,
And be this peal its awfullest and last
Sound till the strong tower rock!--What! silent still?
I would go forth, but that my post is here,
To be the centre of re-union to
The oft discordant elements which form 190
Leagues of this nature, and to keep compact
The wavering of the weak, in case of conflict;
For if they should do battle,'twill be here,
Within the palace, that the strife will thicken:
Then here must be my station, as becomes
The master-mover.--Hark! he comes--he comes,
My nephew, brave Bertuccio's messenger.--
What tidings? Is he marching? hath he sped?
_They_ here!-all's lost-yet will I make an effort.

_Enter a_ SIGNOR OF THE NIGHT,[445] _with Guards, etc., etc._

_Sig_. Doge, I arrest thee of high treason!

_Doge_. Me! 200
Thy Prince, of treason?--Who are they that dare
Cloak their own treason under such an order?

_Sig_. (_showing his order_).
Behold my order from the assembled Ten.

_Doge_. And _where_ are they, and _why_ assembled? no
Such Council can be lawful, till the Prince
Preside there, and that duty's mine:[446] on thine
I charge thee, give me way, or marshal me
To the Council chamber.