1821.] 



News from Parnastus.. .No. VII. 



And that they poisou'd ! My pure house- 

 hold g'ods 

 Were shiver'd on my hearth, and o'er their 



shrine 

 Sat errinning' Ribaldry and sneeringScorn." 

 The assembly breaks up, leaving the 

 Doge and Israel together. The better 

 nature of the former struggles hard 

 within him, but he cannot resist the 

 tejnptation of revenge. 

 '*''*^" «< Doubt not— fear not — I 



^ Will be yonr most unmerciful accomplice ! 

 And yet I act no more ou my free will, 

 'Wor my own feelings— both compel me 

 ■'.''■ back; 



But there is hell within me and around, 

 ' 'And like the demon who believes and 

 trembles, 

 Must I abhor and do. — Away! away! 

 Get thee unto thy fellows, I will hie me 

 •To gather the retainers of our house — 

 Doubt not, Saint Mark's great bell shall 



wake all Venice, 

 Except her slaughtered senate : ere the sun 

 Be broad upon the Adriatic, there 

 Shall be a voice of weeping, which shall 



drown 

 The roar of waters in the cry of blood ! 

 I am resolved— come on." 



From many of the intervening scenes 

 we might extract passages of great 

 spirit and beauty ; but we must hasten 

 to the conclusion. The Doge is seized 

 and condemned. — He is led to execu- 

 tion on the top of the stone steps, 

 «aUed the Giant's staircase.in the Ducal 

 Palace. — A Cliief of the Ten takes off 

 the Ducal cap from his head. In his 

 last speech he pours out all the bitter- 

 ness and fury of his soul. 



Doge. I speak to Time and to Eternity, 

 Of which 1 grow a portion, not to man : — 

 ' Ve elements ! in which to be resolved 

 I hasten, let my voice be as a spirit 

 Upon you! Ye blue waves! which bore my 



banner ; 

 Ye winds ! which flutter'd o'er as if you 



lov'd it, 

 And fill'd my swelling sails as they were 

 ■■'■'•- wafted 



To many a triumph ! Thou my nativeearth, 

 ■ Which I have bled for ; and thou foreign 



earth, 

 Which drank this willing blood from many 

 . ■'.- a wound ; — 



'^'%te«tM^A^, in which my goire will not sink, 



but 

 Reek up° to Heaven ! Ye skies, which will 



receive it ; 

 TTionstiri ! -which shinest on these things ; 



and Thou 

 Who kindlest and who quenchest suns !— 



Attest ! 

 I am not innocent — but are these guiltless ? 

 I perish, but not unavenged; far ages 

 Float up from the abyss of time to be. 



527 



And show these eyes, before they close, the 



doom 

 Of this proud city, and I leave my curse 

 On her and her's for ever! — Yes, the hours 

 Are silently engendering of the day, 

 When she, who built 'gainst Attila a bul- 



wark. 

 Shall yield, and bloodlessly and basely 



yield, 

 Unto a basiard Attila, without 

 Shedding so much blood in her last defence 

 As these old veins, oft drain'd in shield- 

 ing her, 

 Shall pour in sacrifice. — She shall be bought 

 And sold, and be an appanage to those 

 Who shall despise her ! — She shall stoop 



to be 

 A province for an empire, petty town 

 In lieu of capital, with slaves for senates. 

 Beggars for nobles, panders for a people — 

 Then, when the Hebrew's in thy palaces. 

 The Hun in ihy high places, and the Greek 

 Walks o'er thy mart, and smiles on it for 



his; 

 MTien thy patricians beg their bitter bread 

 In narrow streets, and in their shameful 



need 

 Make their nobility a plea for pity ; 

 Then, whea the few who still retain a 



wreck 

 Of their great father's heritage shall fawn 

 Round a barbarian Vice of King's Vice- 

 gerent, 

 Even in the palace where they swayed as 



sovereigns. 

 Even in the palace where they slew their 



Sovereign, 

 Proud of some name they have disgraced. 

 When these and more are heavy on thee, 



when 

 Smiles without mirth, and pastimes with- 

 out pleasure; 

 Youth without honour,age without respect; 

 Meanness and weakness, and a sense of woe 

 'Gainst which thou wilt not strive, and 



dar'st not murmur. 

 Have made thee last and worst of peopled 



desarts ; 

 Then, in the last gasp of thine agony, 

 Amidst thy many murders, think of mine. 

 Thou den of drunkards, with the blood of 



princes. 

 Gehenna of the waters ! Thou Sea-Sodom ! 

 Thus I devote thee to the infernal Gods ! 

 Thee and thy serpent seed ! 



[Here the Doge turns and addresses the 

 executioner.'] 



Slave ! do thine office ! 

 Strike as I struck the foe! Strike as I would 

 Have struck those tyrants I Strike deep as 



my curse ! 

 Strike — and but once ! 



[The Doge throws himself upon his 

 knees, and as the executioner raises his 

 sword the scene closes.] 



We feel but little inclination to de- 

 scend from tlie stormy majesty of this 

 high-wrought 



