_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, noble Uncle! we will meet In freedom and true sovereignty, or never! _Doge_. Come hither, my Bertuccio--one embrace; Speed, for the day grows broader; send me soon A messenger to tell me how all goes When you rejoin our troops, and then sound--sound 130 The storm-bell from St. Mark's![et] [_Exit_ BERTUCCIO FALIERO. _Doge_ (_solus_). He is gone, And on each footstep moves a life. 'Tis done.[441] Now the destroying Angel hovers o'er Venice, and pauses ere he pours the vial, Even as the eagle overlooks his prey, And for a moment, poised in middle air, Suspends the motion of his mighty wings, Then swoops with his unerring beak.[442] Thou Day! That slowly walk'st the waters! march--march on-- I would not smite i' the dark, but rather see 140 That no stroke errs. And you, ye blue sea waves! I have seen you dyed ere now, and deeply too, With Genoese, Saracen, and Hunnish gore, While that of Venice flowed too, but victorious: Now thou must wear an unmixed crimson; no Barbaric blood can reconcile us now Unto that horrible incarnadine, But friend or foe will roll in civic slaughter. And have I lived to fourscore years[443] for this? I, who was named Preserver of the City? 150 I, at whose name the million's caps were flung[eu] Into the air, and cries from tens of thousands Rose up, imploring Heaven to send me blessings, And fame, and length of days--to see this day? But this day, black within the calendar, Shall be succeeded by a bright millennium. Doge Dandolo survived to ninety summers To vanquish empires, and refuse their crown;[444] I will resign a crown, and make the State Renew its freedom--but oh! by what means? 160 The noble end must justify them. What Are a few drops of human blood? 'tis false, The blood of tyrants is not human; they, Like to incarnate Molochs, feed on ours, Until 'tis time to give them to the tombs Which they have made so populous.--Oh World! Oh Men! what are ye, and our best designs,