Poems, translated and original

_Secret chamber of the Inquisitors._

_Enter_ BADOERO _and_ LOREDANO.

Badoero. Our colleague comes not.

Loredano. He is here.

_Enter_ CONTARINI.

Badoero. Proceed we At once, to business. This unhappy youth----

Loredano. Speak not as if you pitied him. None here Should sigh, except the guilty--rigid justice Must reign!

Badoero. Then may the guiding light of wisdom Descend to dissipate the uncertain twilight Of human judgment!

Loredano. Know you with what object He broke the law?

Contarini. Know I? and do you think I would confer with traitors?

Badoero. ’Tis important We learn his motive.

Contarini. Need we look beyond The act itself? Did not the late decree Pronounce it death for a patrician To speak with foreign ministers, or enter Beneath his roof under the veil of night?

Badoero. ’Tis true.

Contarini. What would you more? This daring boy Mocks at our prohibition, and is found Within the interdicted walls!

Badoero. The spirit Of that decree should rule us in decision More than the letter. If it shall appear He had no thought of treason, shall his youth And recent services, all plead in vain?

LOREDANO (_significantly_.)

’Tis rumoured that some fairer cause impelled him Incautious into danger.--

Contarini. Idle falsehoods! Must we give heed to every lying breath That stirs the populace?

Badoero. Hush, the prisoner comes.

(FOSCARINI _is brought in by_ BELTRAMO.)

_To_ BELTRAMO.] You may retire. [_Exit_ BELTRAMO.

Antonio Foscarini-- You stand here--arraigned Of foul ingratitude and treason ’gainst Your country’s state and sovereignty. Events Appear against you. You have violated A late and solemn law. What answer you To this high charge?

Foscarini. Nothing!

Badoero. Speak freely. We Would fain be merciful, if you reveal Such motives as may palliate the deed. What was your business ’neath the Spaniard’s roof?

Foscarini. I will not answer.

Badoero. Nay, consider well, Sincerity may save you.

Foscarini. I can give No further answer.

Contarini. He confesses guilt. Is it not plain?

Foscarini. Honor I here defend-- Not life.

Loredano. So obstinate? let us then try If torture will avail!

CONTARINI (_quickly_.)

No--not the torture! He is too weak for it; we could not hope To force the truth by violent means from him.

LOREDANO (_aside_.)

Unwonted clemency! I well can guess Its meaning! (_To_ FOSCARINI.) Dost thou not fear the torture?

Foscarini. Ye may tear Emulous, these wretched limbs; your power can never Reach to the soul, unless your hatred dare To chronicle as words the groans that falter Upon the blood-stained lip; here, I repeat it, I will die silent!

Badoero. To a gentle judge Give gentle answer. By thy noble country, The honor of thine ancestors, all great In arms and council--by these walls, defended With blood of thine illustrious sire--I pray thee, Spare thine own fame! Reveal----

Foscarini. Within my heart Your prayer is heard. You shall have fit reply. Lo! on the traitor’s breast, the vestiges Of foreign wars! Here pierced the Spaniard’s blade!

Loredano. We would not count thy wounds: the latest one, Thy hand inflicted.

Contarini. Aye--in guilty terror. Waste time no more!

Badoero. Dost know, misguided youth, The penalty of thy crime?

Foscarini. ’Tis death.

Badoero. And yet A further punishment.

Foscarini. What more?

Badoero. Dishonor! Who shall wipe off the stain thy execution Will fix on all the kindred of thy house?

Foscarini. Answer you that! You may decree, ’tis true, My death, but with my death you will decree Your everlasting infamy. Where’er In future years the deed shall be remembered, ’Twill tell of shame--not mine! The popular voice May here be dumb--but in all lands, that spurn The tongue-controlling terrors of your sway, There shall be weighed--there writ in characters Indelible--my merits--your reward!

Badoero. Withdraw a space. [FOSCARINI _retires up the stage_.

Contarini. Can you doubt now?

Badoero. Appearances Are strong against him, but his words, though bold, Seem those of innocence.

Contarini. Is’t new to you, The boldness of the guilty?

Badoero. He preserves, At least, the aspect of his former virtue.

Loredano. Hear me! The doge is Foscarini’s friend. Grant him a meeting with the prisoner; He may prevail, and draw the secret from him That we have failed to learn.

Contarini. What mockery this!

Loredano. Nay--is not life at stake? Should we neglect Aught that may save the boy?

Badoero. It is but just. The doge shall be admitted. Ho! Beltramo!

_Enter_ BELTRAMO.

Take back your prisoner, and whom we shall send Permit to see him. [BELTRAMO _leads out_ FOSCARINI.

(_Exeunt the inquisitors on the other side._)