SCENE III.
Badoero’s house. Enter Badoero, Loredano, and Contarini.
Loredano.
We look to search out guilt among the people,
And lo! it greets us on our very threshold!
Who would have thought that one so widely trusted,
A hero in our wars, one who has borne
Honors unnumbered from the generous state,
Could prove himself a traitor?
Badoero.
We must look
More closely, ere we judge.
Loredano.
What need we more?
’Twas rumored long ago that he opposed
The election of the Ten, the prop of Venice.
In the conspiracy so lately crushed,
Did he not plead for mercy on the guilty?
Hath he not said we needed not a power
Supreme, to interfere with the decrees
Of the great council? And this paper, found
Only last night within the Lion’s mouth,
Denounces him our foe.
Badoero.
Be it ours to weigh
Proofs and defence. We may not spill the blood
Of senators precipitately, nor keep
The axe from the guilty, though it strike the noblest.
But what new guest is this?
Enter Teresa.
Contarini.
Lady—whence come you?
Teresa.
I come to seek for justice; yet find only
Looks that repel me. Where’s the doge?
Loredano.
Who is it,
That thus intrudes on us?
Contarini.
Veniero’s daughter.
(Endeavouring to persuade her to return.)
Business attends us. Nay, we are not used
To admit such counsellors.
Teresa.
Are you the judges
Who fain would close your ears against defence,
The culprit’s right? Away! there is no place
Where innocence may not plead against the wrong
Which threatens it—wrong that will harm alike
The judges and the accused. I pray you, signors,
A word! ye will go hence the imputed crime
To judge of one who——
Loredano.
Who hath wronged the state.
Teresa.
No—no! ye do mistake—he never did!
Know ye of whom ye speak? ’Tis Veniero,
The patriot, the patrician! He do wrong?
Why—not a peasant who e’er shared his bounty,
Would not repel the charge! I’ve seen him list
With pitying, tearful eye the beggar’s tale,
Whose heart was gladdened by his sympathy!
I’ve known him watch for hours beside the couch
Of some poor menial slave, who had no friend
Save God and him. ‘He do wrong? Oh! the lips
Of the poor bless him, and the humblest heart
Leaps at his presence!’
Loredano.
There are sacred duties
Higher than such, fair lady! He betrays
The people in their rulers.
Teresa.
Believe it not!
He has served you long and well. His years are many,
But they outnumber not the victories
He won for you. His hair is grey—’tis blanched
With hardship more than age. Would he now cast
The reverend mantle of his honors off,
To league with traitors? No—you need not fear him!
Loredano.
What boots all this? The guardian of the state,
Where he fears, punishes.
Teresa.
Are ye wont to doom
Without at least the solemn show of right?
Will ye hear no defence? And, Contarini,
Darest thou not speak for him, who wast so late
His loved and honored guest? or art thou leagued
In bitter compact with this scorner here
To rob me of his life?
Loredano.
Let her begone;
Must she insult us? Come, the hour draws nigh.
Badoero.
Your pardon. Heed not words that sorrow utters.
She did not mean offence.
Teresa.
My lord—my lord!
There’s mercy in your looks; nay they are human.
Are you my father’s judge?
Badoero.
Pray you, retire,
And be at peace.
Teresa.
You will not heed the terms
“Traitor” and “treachery!” They mean nought—at least
Nought—coupled with his name! Listen to me.
I’ve known him long—longer than any here.
He reared my childhood. I have sate by him
In hours of fondness, when the careless words
Fell from his lips unnoted, save by me:—
Think you he would deceive me? No! I’ll pledge
Life, more than life, upon his truth!
Badoero.
Nay—lady;
This cannot aught avail. Trust in our justice.
That shall be rendered him. If we fail not
To rend the veil from guilt, we are not slow
To acquit the innocent.
Teresa.
He is innocent!
Badoero.
Then go thy way, and hope the best. My lords,
Business attends us.
[Exeunt all but Contarini and Teresa.
Contarini.
Teresa!
Teresa (looking up.)
Who calls? You my lord, who keep
Stern silence, when one you have called your friend
Is basely slandered?
Contarini.
As a senator,
I may not screen the guilty.
Teresa.
Hence, then—join
The herd who seek his slaughter, while I go
To share his dungeon!
Contarini.
Hear me yet a moment.
One way remains to save his life;—and you,
You may redeem it.
Teresa.
How? speak—and I’ll bless you!
Contarini.
Briefly—your sire revealed before his arrest
My love, my suit. Grant it—bestow your hand
On one who loves you with a boundless passion,
And I will stir the powers of heaven and earth
To compass his release.
Teresa.
And do you proffer
Such terms in earnest truth?
Contarini.
In truth I do.
Accept them—and be blest.
Teresa.
Is this the noble
So honored? This the haughty senator?
Ready to barter in his selfishness
The trust he holds? Bearing the solemn charge—
A nation’s safety—laden with the prayers
Of suppliant millions, on his truth who rest
Their hopes—their all—yet ready to fling down
The mighty burthen, if it impede the way
To some light goal of pleasure! Is’t to such
We plead?—Before I reverenced, though I feared thee,
I scorn thee now!
Contarini.
Proud, wayward girl, remember
Whom ’tis you taunt!
Teresa.
Full well, my lord, I know
There can be few like you. Within yon halls,
Some there must be, to whom the voice of justice
Shall not unheeded speak. To them I trust—
To Heaven—and to the strength of innocence,
And not to you! [Exit.
Contarini.
So lovely in disdain!
She shall be mine, despite her scorn and hate! [Exit.