Poems, translated and original

_Grand Council Chamber._ DOGE _and Senators discovered in debate_.

Doge. I would not counsel to severity. If Venice be in danger, she has arms To wield the sword against all threatening foes, And hearts enough to bleed in her defence.

Loredano. Should we not watch more jealous o’er her rights? And rather crush rebellion in the bud, Than pamper it into luxurious growth By our delay? Spain looks with eager eye To find some crevice in the wall of safety Wherewith our vigilance hath hedged the state:-- France joins the envious league;--their minions lurk Within the city’s bounds, to discontent Stirring the populace.--But one way offers Security--let laws too often slighted Reign in full force.

Contarini. It doth become us here To feign sleep, but unclose a thousand eyes; To treasure up each doubtful sign and word, To write down sighs.

Loredano. Let all suspected die! Let the first breath of treason be the signal To crush the offender.

Veniero. For the guilty, arm Your power with all its terrors. Be severe, And firm, but frame not laws whose weight must fall Upon a thousand innocent heads, to reach One that deserves their penalty.

Loredano. Would you bar The course of justice?

Veniero. Justice! ye misname What is but cruelty. Is not your power Already vast enough? If the pale slave Whisper of you, he bends his brow to earth, Lifting in awe his trembling hand toward heaven, And mutters “_Those above!_” A power so boundless, Why would you make but tyranny?

Loredano. ’Tis right It should be so. The multitude esteem Each god a tyrant, and all tyrants gods. Not by the force of hostile powers without, A state will fall, if in herself she bear not, As doth the human frame, those hidden seeds That ripen for destruction.--Ours the charge To seek and root them out.--Look on the years Of our brave ancestors. The sacred yoke Of laws severe, inflexible and just, They bore unmurmuring--and the citizen Learned here the lesson to all Italy Besides, unknown--to govern and obey! ‘On such a policy shone days of splendor: Easy was then the task to put to rout The Gallic fleets; to humble Frederick’s pride In a single conflict--and on every tower Raised by our foes beyond our country’s bounds, To plant the Lion standard of St. Mark. Asia then trembled for her kingdom’s safety, Though Europe intervened; and ’gainst all Europe Leagued for our injury, alone and armed Stood forth the genius of Venetian power.’ Now times are changed. Now crime unblushing claims Impunity. In this degenerate age, Nor evils will be borne--nor remedies! And we are branded with the name of tyrants, By every worthless flatterer of the people Who boasts himself a statesman, and would here Let crime pass scatheless.

Veniero. Nay--why fix you thus Your glance on me? am I the “worthless flatterer” Whom you would here denounce?

Loredano. Even as you will-- Your conscience must reply.

Doge. Nay--nay--my lords, Descend not here to brawl. Retire--and let The vote be taken.

[CONTARINI _and_ BADOERO _count the votes_.

Senators of Venice, Ye to the public eye should be as gods, Not men thus passion moved.

Contarini. Fathers! the laws have triumphed. Read the decree.

BADOERO (_reads_.)

“It is hereby enacted, that if any Patrician be seen to hold intercourse in secret with the ambassadors of France or Spain, or pass their thresholds after sunset, he shall be held guilty of treason and shall suffer its penalty.”

Doge. ’Tis well; such is the Senate’s voice. And now Another duty. Summon Foscarini.

[_A guard goes out, and returns with_ FOSCARINI.

Antonio Foscarini! To you our council hath decreed the trust Of the embassy to Switzerland. We will That you depart to-night.

Foscarini. My gracious lord, Humble, yet grateful, I receive the trust You’re pleased to invest me with. My years are few, Yet ripe for strict obedience.

DOGE (_rising_.)

It grows late. The council is dissolved.

[_Exeunt all but_ DOGE _and_ FOSCARINI.

Small time remains To show thee, Foscarini, ere we part, The prince merged in the friend:--I was thy father’s. Say, if my efforts can in aught avail To do thee service?

Foscarini. I do prize your goodness: Will tax it for one boon. There is a maid Within this town, I speak not of her beauty, For that were idle, and you’d smile perchance, At lover’s rhapsodies----

Doge. Well, cut them short; Her name?

Foscarini. She is the daughter of Veniero; All Venice knows his feud with Loredano, Their strife and hate. My suit is briefly this-- From Loredano and his secret arts, Protect Teresa and her sire.

Doge. You ask As if the Doge did govern here, and were not Most bound to servitude. Yet will I watch Over their safety.

Foscarini. And if peril threaten, Inform me of the danger?

Doge. That I promise.

Foscarini. Enough! with lighter heart I shall now leave My native city. Fare you well!

Doge. Heaven guard you.

[_Exeunt severally._