Jac. Fos. Aye, there it is; 'tis like a mother's curse
Upon my soul-the mark is set upon me.
The exiles you speak of went forth by nations,
Their hands upheld each other by the way,
Their tents were pitched together-I'm alone.
Mar. You shall be so no more—I will go with thee.
Jac. Fos. My best Marina !—and our children?
Mar.

I fear, by the prevention of the state's
Abhorrent policy, (which holds all ties
As threads, which may be broken at her pleasure),
Will not be suffered to proceed with us.
Jac. Fos. And canst thou leave them?
Mar.

190

They,

Yes-with many a pang !

But I can leave them, children as they are,
To teach you to be less a child. From this
Learn you to sway your feelings, when exacted
By duties paramount; and 'tis our first
On earth to bear.

Jac. Fos.

Mar.

Have I not borne ?

Too much

From tyrannous injustice, and enough

To teach you not to shrink now from a lot,

Which, as compared with what you have undergone
Of late, is mercy.

Jac. Fos.

Ah! you never yet

Were far away from Venice, never saw

Her beautiful towers in the receding distance,

While every furrow of the vessel's track

Seemed ploughing deep into your heart; you never
Saw day go down upon your native spires i
So calmly with its gold and crimson glory,
And after dreaming a disturbéd vision

Of them and theirs, awoke and found them not.
Mar. I will divide this with you. Let us think
Of our departure from this much-loved city,
(Since you must love it, as it seems,) and this
Chamber of state, her gratitude allots you.
Our children will be cared for by the Doge,
And by my uncles; we must sail ere night.

i. upon your native towers.-[MS. M.]

200

210

220

Jac. Fos. That's sudden. Shall I not behold my

Your exile as he bears it.
Jac. Fos.

Blame him not.
I sometimes murmur for a moment; but
He could not now act otherwise. A show
Of feeling or compassion on his part

Would have but drawn upon his aged head
Suspicion from "the Ten," and upon mine
Accumulated ills.

Mar.

Accumulated!

230

That of leaving

What pangs are those they have spared you?

Jac. Fos.

Venice without beholding him or you,

Which might have been forbidden now, as 'twas
Upon my former exile.

Mar.

That is true,

And thus far I am also the State's debtor,
And shall be more so when I see us both
Floating on the free waves-away-away—
Be it to the earth's end, from this abhorred,
Unjust, and

Jac. Fos.

Curse it not. If I am silent,

Who dares accuse my Country?
Mar.

Men and Angels! 240
The blood of myriads reeking up to Heaven,
The groans of slaves in chains, and men in dungeons,
Mothers, and wives, and sons, and sires, and subjects,
Held in the bondage of ten bald-heads; and

Though last, not least, thy silence! Couldst thou say
Aught in its favour, who would praise like thee?

Jac. Fos. Let us address us then, since so it must be, To our departure. Who comes here?

VOL. V.

Σ

Enter LOREDANO attended by Familiars.

Retire,

[Exeunt the two Familiars.

Lor. (to the Familiars).

But leave the torch.

Jac. Fos.

Most welcome, noble Signor.

I did not deem this poor place could have drawn

Such presence hither.

Lor.

'Tis not the first time

Nor would be

I have visited these places.

i.

Mar.
The last, were all men's merits well rewarded.
Came you here to insult us, or remain
As spy upon us, or as hostage for us?
Lor. Neither are of my office, noble Lady!
I am sent hither to your husband, to
Announce "the Ten's" decree.

Mar.

That tenderness

Has been anticipated: it is known.
Lor. As how?

250

Mar. I have informed him, not so gently, 260 Doubtless, as your nice feelings would prescribe, The indulgence of your colleagues; but he knew it. If you come for our thanks, take them, and hence ! The dungeon gloom is deep enough without you, And full of reptiles, not less loathsome, though Their sting is honester.

Jac. Fos.

I pray you, calm you :

What can avail such words?

The whole isle.

Jac. Fos.

Both the same to me: the after
Freedom as is the first imprisonment.
Is't true my wife accompanies me?
Lor.

If she so wills it.

Mar.

Yes,

Who obtained that justice?
Lor. One who wars not with women.
Mar.

Men: howsoever let him have my thanks

But oppresses

281

For the only boon I would have asked or taken
From him or such as he is.

Lor.

As they are offered.

Mar.

So much!—no more.
Jac. Fos.

He receives them

May they thrive with him

Is this, sir, your whole mission?

Because we have brief time for preparation,
And you perceive your presence doth disquiet
This lady, of a house noble as yours.

Mar. Nobler!

As more generous !

We say the "generous steed" to express the purity 290
Of his high blood. Thus much I've learnt, although
Venetian (who see few steeds save of bronze),1

From those Venetians who have skirred 2 the coasts
Of Egypt and her neighbour Araby :

And why not say as soon the "generous man?"
If race be aught, it is in qualities

1. [For "steeds of brass," compare Childe Harold, Canto IV. stanza xiii. line 1, Poetical Works, 1899, ii. 338, and 336, note 1.]

2. [The first and all subsequent editions read "skimmed the coasts." Byron wrote "skirred," a word borrowed from Shakespeare. Compare Siege of Corinth, line 692, Poetical Works, 1900, iii. 480, note 4.]

More than in years; and mine, which is as old
As yours, is better in its product, nay—
Look not so stern-but get you back, and pore
Upon your genealogic tree's most green
Of leaves and most mature of fruits, and there
Blush to find ancestors, who would have blushed
For such a son-thou cold inveterate hater !
Jac. Fos. Again, Marina!
Mar.

Again! still, Marina.

See you not, he comes here to glut his hate

With a last look upon our misery?

Let him partake it!

Jac. Fos.

That were difficult.

Mar. Nothing more easy. He partakes it now— Aye, he may veil beneath a marble brow

300

And sneering lip the pang, but he partakes it.

310

A few brief words of truth shame the Devil's servants

No less than Master; I have probed his soul

A moment, as the Eternal Fire, ere long,

Will reach it always. See how he shrinks from me!
With death, and chains, and exile in his hand,
To scatter o'er his kind as he thinks fit;
They are his weapons, not his armour, for

I have pierced him to the core of his cold heart.

I care not for his frowns! We can but die,

And he but live, for him the very worst

Of destinies each day secures him more

His tempter's.

Jac. Fos.

This is mere insanity.

Mar. It may be so; and who hath made us mad?
Lor. Let her go on; it irks not me.

Mar.

That 's false !

320

You came here to enjoy a heartless triumph
Of cold looks upon manifold griefs! You came
To be sued to in vain-to mark our tears,
And hoard our groans-to gaze upon the wreck
Which you have made a Prince's son-my husband;
In short, to trample on the fallen-an office
The hangman shrinks from, as all men from him!
How have you sped? We are wretched, Signor, as
Your plots could make, and vengeance could desire us,

330