The Works of Lord Byron. Vol. 5: PoetryByron, George Gordon Byron, Baron
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The Works of Lord Byron. Vol. 5: Poetry
Byron, George Gordon Byron, Baron
English drama; English poetry
_Jac. Fos._ Alas! I little thought so lingeringly
To leave abodes like this: but when I feel
That every step I take, even from this cell,
Is one away from Venice, I look back
Even on these dull damp walls, and----
_Doge_. Boy! no tears.
_Mar._ Let them flow on: he wept not on the rack
To shame him, and they cannot shame him now.
They will relieve his heart--that too kind heart--
And I will find an hour to wipe away
Those tears, or add my own. I could weep now, 420
But would not gratify yon wretch so far.
Let us proceed. Doge, lead the way.
_Lor._ (_to the Familiar_). The torch, there!
_Mar._ Yes, light us on, as to a funeral pyre,
With Loredano mourning like an heir.
_Doge_. My son, you are feeble; take this hand.
_Jac. Fos._ Alas!
Must youth support itself on age, and I
Who ought to be the prop of yours?
_Lor._ Take mine.
_Mar._ Touch it not, Foscari; 'twill sting you. Signor,
Stand off! be sure, that if a grasp of yours
Would raise us from the gulf wherein we are plunged, 430
No hand of ours would stretch itself to meet it.
Come, Foscari, take the hand the altar gave you;
It could not save, but will support you ever. [_Exeunt_.
ACT IV.
SCENE I.--_A Hall in the Ducal Palace_.
_Enter_ LOREDANO _and_ BARBARIGO.
_Bar._ And have you confidence in such a project?
_Lor._ I have.
_Bar._ 'Tis hard upon his years.
_Lor._ Say rather
Kind to relieve him from the cares of State.
_Bar._ 'Twill break his heart.
_Lor._ Age has no heart to break.
He has seen his son's half broken, and, except
A start of feeling in his dungeon, never
Swerved.
_Bar._ In his countenance, I grant you, never;
But I have seen him sometimes in a calm
So desolate, that the most clamorous grief
Had nought to envy him within. Where is he? 10
_Lor._ In his own portion of the palace, with
His son, and the whole race of Foscaris.
_Bar._ Bidding farewell.
_Lor._ A last! as, soon, he shall
Bid to his Dukedom.
_Bar._ When embarks the son?
_Lor._ Forthwith--when this long leave is taken. 'Tis
Time to admonish them again.
_Bar._ Forbear;
Retrench not from their moments.
_Lor._ Not I, now
We have higher business for our own. This day
Shall be the last of the old Doge's reign,
As the first of his son's last banishment, 20
And that is vengeance.
_Bar._ In my mind, too deep.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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