_Doge_ (_solus_). This patron may be sounded; I will try him. I know the people to be discontented: They have cause, since Sapienza's[390] adverse day, When Genoa conquered: they have further cause, 300 Since they are nothing in the state, and in The city worse than nothing--mere machines, To serve the nobles' most patrician pleasure. The troops have long arrears of pay, oft promised, And murmur deeply--any hope of change Will draw them forward: they shall pay themselves With plunder:--but the priests--I doubt the priesthood Will not be with us; they have hated me Since that rash hour, when, maddened with the drone, I smote the tardy Bishop at Treviso,[391] 310 Quickening his holy march; yet, ne'ertheless, They may be won, at least their Chief at Rome, By some well-timed concessions; but, above All things, I must be speedy: at my hour Of twilight little light of life remains. Could I free Venice, and avenge my wrongs, I had lived too long, and willingly would sleep Next moment with my sires; and, wanting this, Better that sixty of my fourscore years Had been already where--how soon, I care not-- 320 The whole must be extinguished;--better that They ne'er had been, than drag me on to be The thing these arch-oppressors fain would make me. Let me consider--of efficient troops There are three thousand posted at---- _Enter_ VINCENZO _and_ ISRAEL BERTUCCIO. _Vin_. May it please Your Highness, the same patron whom I spake of Is here to crave your patience. _Doge_. Leave the chamber, Vincenzo.-- [_Exit_ VINCENZO. Sir, you may advance--what would you? _I. Ber_. Redress. _Doge_. Of whom? _I. Ber_. Of God and of the Doge. _Doge_. Alas! my friend, you seek it of the twain 330 Of least respect and interest in Venice. You must address the Council. _I. Ber_. 'Twere in vain; For he who injured me is one of them. _Doge_. There's blood upon thy face--how came it there? _I. Ber_. 'Tis mine, and not the first I've shed for Venice, But the first shed by a Venetian hand: A noble smote me. _Doge_. Doth he live? _I. Ber_. Not long-- But for the hope I had and have, that you, My Prince, yourself a soldier, will redress Him, whom the laws of discipline and Venice 340 Permit not to protect himself:--if not-- I say no more. _Doge_. But something you would do-- Is it not so? _I. Ber_. I am a man, my Lord. _Doge_. Why so is he who smote you.