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The Works of Lord Byron Volume IV Part 68

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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 a.s.sa.s.sin thou miscall'st me:--once, once more I do adjure thee, pa.s.s 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 n.o.bility 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 pa.s.s--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_. a.s.suredly: 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 va.s.sals 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 n.o.ble, 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 Circ.u.mstance 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 pa.s.sion, 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 Pa.s.sion 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, n.o.ble Uncle! we will meet In freedom and true sovereignty, or never!

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The Works of Lord Byron Volume IV Part 68 summary

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