Is. Ber. 'Twere in vain; For he who injured me is one of them. Doge. There's blood upon thy face-how came it there? Is. Ber. 'Tis mine, and not the first I've shed for VeBut the first shed by a Venetian hand; A noble smote me. [nice, Doge. Is. Ber. Doth he live! Not long But for the hope I had and have, that you, Doge. Is it not so? But something you would do Is. Ber. I am a man, my lord." Doge. Why so is he who smote you. Is. Ber. He is called so; Nay, more, a noble one-at least, in Venice: Doge. Is. Ber. Barbaro. Doge. Say his name and lineage? 1 What was the cause? or the pretext. Is. Ber. I am the chief of the arsenal, employed At present in repairing certain galleys But roughly used by the Geonese last year. Doge. Have you long time served? Is. Ber. So long as to remember Zara's siege, And fight beneath the chief who beat the Huns there, Sometime my general, now the Doge Faliero.— Doge. How! are we comrades?-the state's ducal robes Sit newly on me, and you were appointed Chief of the arsenal ere I came from Rome; So that I recognised you not. Who placed you? Is. Ber. The late Doge; keeping still my old command As patron of a galley: my new office Was given as the reward of certain scars I little thought his bounty would conduct me At least, in such a cause. Doge. Are you much hurt? Is. Ber. Irreparably in my self esteem. Doge. Speak out; fear nothing: being stung at heart, What would you do to be revenged on this man! Is. Ber. That which I dare not name, and yet will do. Doge. Then wherefore come you here? Is. Ber. This blood had been wash'd out in other blood. To me most solemnly an hour ago. 18. Ber. How says your highness? Doge. To a month's confinement. 18. Ber. Steno is condemn'd What! the same who dared To stain the ducal throne with those foul words, That have cried shame to every ear in Venice? Doge. Ay, doubtless they have echo'd o'er the arsenal, Keeping due time with every hammer's clink As a good jest to jolly artisans; Or making chorus to the creaking oar, Doge. You have heard the offence, Give them breath. Mine have no further outrage to endure. Is. Ber. Then, in a word, it rests but on your word To punish and avenge-I will not say My petty wrong, for what is a mere blow, However vile, to such a thing as I am?— But the base insult done your state and person. Doge. You overrate my power, which is a pageant, This cap is not the monarch's crown; these robes Might move compassion, like a beggar's rags; Nay, more, a beggar's are his own, and these But lent to the poor puppet, who must play Its part with all its empire in this ermine, 1s. Ber. Would'st thou be king? Doge. Yes-of a happy people. Is. Ber. Would'st thou be sovereign lord of Venice? Doge. Ay: If that the people shared that sovereignty, So that nor they nor I were further slaves The poisonous heads of whose envenom❜d body Is. Ber. Yet, thou wast born and still hast lived patrician. Doge. In evil hour was I so born; my birth Hath made me Doge to be insulted: but I lived and toil'd a soldier and a servant Of Venice and her people, not the senate; Their good and my own honour were my guerdon. Is. Ber. And yet they made thee duke. They made me so;. I sought it not, the flattering fetters met me Toil, charge, or duty, for the state, I did not, In what we have to do and to endure: Bear witness for me thou, my injured subject, Is. Ber. You shall do both, if you possess the will; And many thousands more not less oppress'd, Who wait but for a signal-will you give it? Doge. You speak in riddles. Is. Ber. Which shall soon be read disdain not Say on. Is. Ber. Not thou, To lend a patient ear. Nor I alone, are injured and abused, Contemm'd, and trampled on; but the whole people The native mariners and civic troops, Feel with their friends; for who is he amongst them From the patricians? And the hopeless war With the plebeian blood, and treasure wrung Perhaps I pass the sentence of my death! Doge. And suffering what thou hast done-fear'st thou Be silent then, and live on, to be beaten By those for whom thou hast bled. ls. Ber. [death? No, I will speak |