The Works of Lord Byron. Vol. 5: PoetryByron, George Gordon Byron, Baron
General
The Works of Lord Byron. Vol. 5: Poetry
Byron, George Gordon Byron, Baron
English drama; English poetry
_Mem._ "The Ten"
Alone can answer; they are rarely wont
To let their thoughts anticipate their purpose
By previous proclamation. We are summoned--
That is enough.
_Sen._ For them, but not for us;
I would know why.
_Mem._ You will know why anon, 70
If you obey: and, if not, you no less
Will know why you should have obeyed.
_Sen._ I mean not
To oppose them, _but_----
_Mem._ In Venice "_but_"'s a traitor.
But me no "_buts_" unless you would pass o'er
The Bridge which few repass.[71]
_Sen._ I am silent.
_Mem._ Why
Thus hesitate? "The Ten" have called in aid
Of their deliberation five and twenty
Patricians of the Senate--you are one,
And I another; and it seems to me
Both honoured by the choice or chance which leads us 80
To mingle with a body so august.
_Sen._ Most true. I say no more.
_Mem._ As we hope, Signor,
And all may honestly, (that is, all those
Of noble blood may,) one day hope to be
Decemvir, it is surely for the Senate's[br]
Chosen delegates, a school of wisdom, to
Be thus admitted, though as novices,
To view the mysteries.
_Sen._ Let us view them: they,
No doubt, are worth it.
_Mem._ Being worth our lives
If we divulge them, doubtless they are worth 90
Something, at least to you or me.
_Sen._ I sought not
A place within the sanctuary; but being
Chosen, however reluctantly so chosen,
I shall fulfil my office.
_Mem._ Let us not
Be latest in obeying "the Ten's" summons.
_Sen._ All are not met, but I am of your thought
So far--let's in.
_Mem._ The earliest are most welcome
In earnest councils--we will not be least so. [_Exeunt_.
_Enter the_ DOGE, JACOPO FOSCARI, _and_ MARINA.
_Jac. Fos._ Ah, father! though I must and will depart,
Yet--yet--I pray you to obtain for me 100
That I once more return unto my home,
Howe'er remote the period. Let there be
A point of time, as beacon to my heart,
With any penalty annexed they please,
But let me still return.
_Doge_. Son Jacopo,
Go and obey our Country's will:[72] 'tis not
For us to look beyond.
_Jac. Fos._ But still I must
Look back. I pray you think of me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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