Doge. Now, that the priest is gone, 'twere useless all

To linger out the miserable minutes;

But one pang more, the pang of parting from thee,

And I will leave the few last grains of sand,

Which yet remain of the accorded hour,

Still falling—I have done with Time.

Ang. Alas!

And I have been the cause, the unconscious cause;

And for this funeral marriage, this black union,

Which thou, compliant with my father's wish,

Didst promise at his death, thou hast sealed thine own.10

Doge. Not so: there was that in my spirit ever

Which shaped out for itself some great reverse;

The marvel is, it came not until now—

And yet it was foretold me.

Ang. How foretold you?

Doge. Long years ago—so long, they are a doubt[466]

In memory, and yet they live in annals:

When I was in my youth, and served the Senate

And Signory as Podesta and Captain

Of the town of Treviso, on a day

Of festival, the sluggish Bishop who20

Conveyed the Host aroused my rash young anger,

By strange delay, and arrogant reply

To my reproof: I raised my hand and smote him,

Until he reeled beneath his holy burthen;[fp]

And as he rose from earth again, he raised

His tremulous hands in pious wrath towards Heaven.

Thence pointing to the Host, which had fallen from him,

He turned to me, and said, "The Hour will come

When he thou hast o'erthrown shall overthrow thee:

The Glory shall depart from out thy house,30

The Wisdom shall be shaken from thy soul,

And in thy best maturity of Mind

A madness of the heart shall seize upon thee;[fq]

Passion shall tear thee when all passions cease

In other men, or mellow into virtues;

And Majesty which decks all other heads,

Shall crown to leave thee headless; honours shall

But prove to thee the heralds of Destruction,

And hoary hairs of Shame, and both of Death,

But not such death as fits an agéd man."40

Thus saying, he passed on.—That Hour is come.

Ang. And with this warning couldst thou not have striven

To avert the fatal moment, and atone,

By penitence, for that which thou hadst done?

Doge. I own the words went to my heart, so much

That I remembered them amid the maze

Of Life, as if they formed a spectral voice,

Which shook me in a supernatural dream;

And I repented; but 'twas not for me

To pull in resolution:[467] what must be50

I could not change, and would not fear.—Nay more,

Thou can'st not have forgot, what all remember,

That on my day of landing here as Doge,[468]

On my return from Rome, a mist of such

Unwonted density went on before

The Bucentaur, like the columnar cloud

Which ushered Israel out of Egypt, till

The pilot was misled, and disembarked us

Between the Pillars of Saint Mark's, where 'tis

The custom of the state to put to death60

Its criminals, instead of touching at

The Riva della Paglia, as the wont is,—

So that all Venice shuddered at the omen.

Ang. Ah! little boots it now to recollect

Such things.

Doge. And yet I find a comfort in

The thought, that these things are the work of Fate;

For I would rather yield to Gods than men,

Or cling to any creed of destiny,

Rather than deem these mortals, most of whom[fr]

I know to be as worthless as the dust,70

And weak as worthless, more than instruments

Of an o'er-ruling Power; they in themselves

Were all incapable—they could not be

Vistors of him who oft had conquered for them.

Ang. Employ the minutes left in aspirations

Of a more healing nature, and in peace

Even with these wretches take thy flight to Heaven.

Doge. I am at peace: the peace of certainty

That a sure Hour will come, when their sons' sons,

And this proud city, and these azure waters,80

And all which makes them eminent and bright,

Shall be a desolation and a curse,

A hissing and a scoff unto the nations,

A Carthage, and a Tyre, an Ocean Babel.

Ang. Speak not thus now: the surge of Passion still

Sweeps o'er thee to the last; thou dost deceive

Thyself, and canst not injure them—be calmer.

Doge. I stand within Eternity, and see

Into Eternity, and I behold—

Aye, palpable as I see thy sweet face90

For the last time—the days which I denounce

Unto all time against these wave-girt walls,

And they who are indwellers.

Guard (coming forward). Doge of Venice,

The Ten are in attendance on your Highness.

Doge. Then farewell, Angiolina!—one embrace—

Forgive the old man who hath been to thee

A fond but fatal husband—love my memory—

I would not ask so much for me still living,

But thou canst judge of me more kindly now,

Seeing my evil feelings are at rest.100

Besides, of all the fruit of these long years,

Glory, and Wealth, and Power, and Fame, and Name,

Which generally leave some flowers to bloom

Even o'er the grave, I have nothing left, not even

A little love, or friendship, or esteem,

No, not enough to extract an epitaph

From ostentatious kinsmen; in one hour

I have uprooted all my former life,

And outlived everything, except thy heart,

The pure, the good, the gentle, which will oft110

With unimpaired but not a clamorous grief[fs]

Still keep——Thou turn'st so pale!—Alas! she faints,

She has no breath, no pulse!—Guards! lend your aid—

I cannot leave her thus, and yet 'tis better,

Since every lifeless moment spares a pang.

When she shakes off this temporary death,

I shall be with the Eternal.—Call her women—

One look!—how cold her hand!—as cold as mine

Shall be ere she recovers.—Gently tend her,

And take my last thanks—I am ready now.120