ACT V.
SCENE I.
Secret chamber of the Inquisitors.
Enter Badoero and Loredano.
Badoero.
Our colleague comes not.
Loredano.
He is here.
Enter Contarini.
Badoero.
Proceed we
At once, to business. This unhappy youth——
Loredano.
Speak not as if you pitied him. None here
Should sigh, except the guilty—rigid justice
Must reign!
Badoero.
Then may the guiding light of wisdom
Descend to dissipate the uncertain twilight
Of human judgment!
Loredano.
Know you with what object
He broke the law?
Contarini.
Know I? and do you think
I would confer with traitors?
Badoero.
’Tis important
We learn his motive.
Contarini.
Need we look beyond
The act itself? Did not the late decree
Pronounce it death for a patrician
To speak with foreign ministers, or enter
Beneath his roof under the veil of night?
Badoero.
’Tis true.
Contarini.
What would you more? This daring boy
Mocks at our prohibition, and is found
Within the interdicted walls!
Badoero.
The spirit
Of that decree should rule us in decision
More than the letter. If it shall appear
He had no thought of treason, shall his youth
And recent services, all plead in vain?
Loredano (significantly.)
’Tis rumoured that some fairer cause impelled him
Incautious into danger.—
Contarini.
Idle falsehoods!
Must we give heed to every lying breath
That stirs the populace?
Badoero.
Hush, the prisoner comes.
(Foscarini is brought in by Beltramo.)
To Beltramo.] You may retire. [Exit Beltramo.
Antonio Foscarini—
You stand here—arraigned
Of foul ingratitude and treason ’gainst
Your country’s state and sovereignty. Events
Appear against you. You have violated
A late and solemn law. What answer you
To this high charge?
Foscarini.
Nothing!
Badoero.
Speak freely. We
Would fain be merciful, if you reveal
Such motives as may palliate the deed.
What was your business ’neath the Spaniard’s roof?
Foscarini.
I will not answer.
Badoero.
Nay, consider well,
Sincerity may save you.
Foscarini.
I can give
No further answer.
Contarini.
He confesses guilt.
Is it not plain?
Foscarini.
Honor I here defend—
Not life.
Loredano.
So obstinate? let us then try
If torture will avail!
Contarini (quickly.)
No—not the torture!
He is too weak for it; we could not hope
To force the truth by violent means from him.
Loredano (aside.)
Unwonted clemency! I well can guess
Its meaning!
(To Foscarini.) Dost thou not fear the torture?
Foscarini.
Ye may tear
Emulous, these wretched limbs; your power can never
Reach to the soul, unless your hatred dare
To chronicle as words the groans that falter
Upon the blood-stained lip; here, I repeat it,
I will die silent!
Badoero.
To a gentle judge
Give gentle answer. By thy noble country,
The honor of thine ancestors, all great
In arms and council—by these walls, defended
With blood of thine illustrious sire—I pray thee,
Spare thine own fame! Reveal——
Foscarini.
Within my heart
Your prayer is heard. You shall have fit reply.
Lo! on the traitor’s breast, the vestiges
Of foreign wars! Here pierced the Spaniard’s blade!
Loredano.
We would not count thy wounds: the latest one,
Thy hand inflicted.
Contarini.
Aye—in guilty terror.
Waste time no more!
Badoero.
Dost know, misguided youth,
The penalty of thy crime?
Foscarini.
’Tis death.
Badoero.
And yet
A further punishment.
Foscarini.
What more?
Badoero.
Dishonor!
Who shall wipe off the stain thy execution
Will fix on all the kindred of thy house?
Foscarini.
Answer you that! You may decree, ’tis true,
My death, but with my death you will decree
Your everlasting infamy. Where’er
In future years the deed shall be remembered,
’Twill tell of shame—not mine! The popular voice
May here be dumb—but in all lands, that spurn
The tongue-controlling terrors of your sway,
There shall be weighed—there writ in characters
Indelible—my merits—your reward!
Badoero.
Withdraw a space. [Foscarini retires up the stage.
Contarini.
Can you doubt now?
Badoero.
Appearances
Are strong against him, but his words, though bold,
Seem those of innocence.
Contarini.
Is’t new to you,
The boldness of the guilty?
Badoero.
He preserves,
At least, the aspect of his former virtue.
Loredano.
Hear me! The doge is Foscarini’s friend.
Grant him a meeting with the prisoner;
He may prevail, and draw the secret from him
That we have failed to learn.
Contarini.
What mockery this!
Loredano.
Nay—is not life at stake? Should we neglect
Aught that may save the boy?
Badoero.
It is but just.
The doge shall be admitted. Ho! Beltramo!
Enter Beltramo.
Take back your prisoner, and whom we shall send
Permit to see him. [Beltramo leads out Foscarini.
(Exeunt the inquisitors on the other side.)