cept passages of Ethwald and De Montfort. It is the fashion to underrate Horace Walpole; firstly, because he was a nobleman, and secondly, because he was a gentleman; but to say nothing of the composition of his incomparable letters, and of the Castle of Otranto, he is the "Ultimus Romanorum," the author of the Mysterious Mother, a tragedy of the highest order, and not a puling love-play. He is the father of the first romance, and of the last tragedy in our language, and surely worthy of a higher place than any living writer, be he who he may. In speaking of the drama of Marino Faliero, I forgot to mention that the desire of preserving, though still too remote, a nearer approach to unity than the irregularity which is the reproach of the English theatrical compositions, permits, has induced me to represent the conspiracy as already formed, and the Doge acceding to it, whereas in fact it was of his own preparation and that of Israel Bertuccio. The other characters (except that of the duchess,) incidents and almost the time, which was wonderfully short for such a design in real life, are strictly historical, except that all the consultations took place in the palace. Had I followed this, the unity would have been better preserved; but I wished to produce the Doge in the full assembly of the conspirators, instead of monotonously placing him always in dialogue with the same individuals. For the real facts, I refer to the extracts given in the Appendix in Italian, with a translation. c 2 DRAMATIS PERSONA. MEN. MARINO FALIERO, Doge of Venice. BERTUCCIO FALIERO, Nephew of the Doge. LIONI, a Patrician and Senator. BENINTENDE, Chief of the Council of Ten. MICHAEL STENO, one of the three Capi of the Forty. Arsenal. PHILIP CALENDARO, DAGOLINO, BERTRAM, Conspirators. Signor of the Night,{"Signore, di Notte" one of the Officers First Citizen. Second Citizen. Third Citizen. VINCENZO, belonging to the Republic. PIETRO, Officers belonging to the Ducal Palace. Secretary of the Council of Ten. Guards, Conspirators, Citizens, The Council of Ten, The Giun MARINO FALIERO. ACT I-SCENE I. An Antichamber in the Ducal Palace. Pietro speaks, in entering, to Battista. Bat. Not yet; Pietro. Too long-at least so thinks the Doge. These moments of suspense? Pietro. How bears he With struggling patience, Placed at the ducal table, cover'd o'er With all the apparel of the state; petitions, He hears the jarring of a distant door, Or murmur of a voice, his quick eye wanders, Upon some edict; but I have observed For the last hour he has not turn'd a leaf. Bat. 'Tis said he is much moved, and doubtless 'twas Foul scorn in Steno to offend so grossly. Pietro. Ay, if a poor man: Steno's a patrician, Young, galliard, gay, and haughty. He be judged justly; but 'tis not for us To anticipate the sentence of the Forty. Bat. And bere it comes.-What news, Vincenzo? Vin. Enter Vincenzo. 'Tis Decided; but as yet his doom's unknown: I saw the president in act to seal The parchment which will bear the Forty's judgment Unto the Doge; and hasten to inform him. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The Ducal Chamber. Marino Faliero, Doge, and his nephew Bertuccio Faliero. Ber. Fal. It cannot be but they will do you justice. Doge. Ay, such as the Avogadori did, Who sent up my appeal unto the Forty To try him by his peers, his own tribunal. Ber. Fal. His peers will scarce protect him; such an Would bring contempt on all authority. [act Doge. Know you not Venice? Know you not the Forty? But we shall see anon. Ber. Fal. (Addressing Vincenzo, then entering.) How now-what tidings? Vin. I am charged to tell his highness that the court Has pass'd its resolution, and that, soon As the due forms of judgment are gone through, The sentence will be sent up to the Doge; In the mean time the Forty doth salute They are wond'rous dutiful, and ever humble. Vin. It is, your highness: The president was sealing it, when I Was call'd in, that no moment might be lost Not only to the chief of the Republic But the complainant, both in one united. Ber. Fal. Are you aware, from aught you have per Of their decision? Vin. No, my lord; you know The secret custom of the courts in Venice. [ceived, Ber. Fal. True; but there still is something given to guess, Which a shrewd gleaner and quick eye would catch at, More or less solemn spread o'er the tribunal. Vin. My lord, I came away upon the moment, Which pass'd among the judges, even in seeming; Doge, (abruptly.) And how look'd he? deliver that. |