MARINO FALIERO , DOGE OP VENICE. 459

—^at Helen lost Troy—that Lucretia expelled the Tarquins from Rome —and that Cava broughtthe Moors to Spain —that an insulted husband led the Gauls to Clusium, and thence to Rome —that asingle verse of Frederick II of Prussia on the Abbe de Bernis, and a jest on Madame de Pompadour ,h-d to the battle of Uosbach—that the elopement of Dearbhorgil with Mac Murcliad conducted the*'Hglish to the slavery of Ireland —that a personal pique between Maria Antoinette and the Duke ofOrleans precipitated the first expulsion of the Bourbons—and, not to multiply instances, that^otnmodus, Domitian , and Caligula fell victims not to their public tyranny, but to private vengeance"'“ind that an order to make Cromwell disembark from the ship in which he would have sailed toAmerica destroyed both King and Commonwealth. After these instances, on the least reflection, it isindeed extraordinary in Dr. Moore to seem surprised that a man used to command, who had serveda nd swayed in the most important offices, should fiercely resent, in a fierce age, an unpunishedaffront, the grossest that can he offered to a man, be he prince or peasant. The age of Faliero is littleto the purpose, unless to favour it—

“ The young man’s wrath is like straw on fire,

But like red-hot steel is the old man’s ire, 1 *

“ Young men soon give and soon forget affronts,

Old age is slow at both.”

Laugier ’s reflections are more philosophical:—“Tale fu il fine ignomihioso di un’uomo, che la suabascita, la sua eta, il suo carattere dovevano tener lontano dalle passioni produttrici di grandi delitti.

*■ suoi talenti per lungo tempo esercitati ne’ maggiori impieghi, la sua capacita sperimentata ne’£overni e nelle ambasciate, gli avevano acquistato la stima e la fiducia de’ cittadini, ed avevano uniti1 suffragj per collocarlo alia testa della republica. Innalzato ad un grado che terminava gloriosa-biente la sua vita, il risentimento di un’ ingiuria leggiera insinuo nel suo cuore tal veleno che bastoa corrompere le antiche sue qualita, e a condurlo al termine dei scellerati; serio esempio, che provabon esservi etd, in cui laprudenza umana sia sicura, e che nelV uomo restano sempre passioni capaci a dis-°Horarlo, quando non iningtli sopra se stesso.”*

Where did Dr. Moore find that Marino Faliero begged his life? I have searched the chroniclers,jtod find nothing of the kind: it is true that he avowed all. He was conducted to the place oftorture, hut there is no mention made of any application for mercy on his part; and the very cir-c Utnstance of their having taken him to the rack seems to argue anything hut his having shown a*ant of firmness, which would doubtless have been also mentioned by those minute historians, whoby no means favour him: such, indeed, would be contrary to his character as a soldier, to the age in^hicli he lived, and at which he died, as it is to the truth of history. I know no justification, at4 by distance of time, for calumniating an historical character : surely truth belongs to the dead,a bd to the unfortunate : and they who have died upon a scaffold have generally had faults enoughbf their own, without attributing to them that which the very incurring of the perils which con-noted them to their violent death renders, of all others, the most improbable. The black veil whichr* Painted over the place of Marino Faliero amongst the Doges, and the Giants’ Staircase where he? a s crowned, and discrowned, and decapitated, struck forcibly upon my imagination; as did liisbery character and strange story. I went, in 1819, in search of his tomb more than once to the churchGiovannie San Paolo ; and, as I was standing before the monument of another family, a priestto.tne up to me and said, “ I can show you finer monuments than that.” I told him that I was ins £arch of that of the Faliero family, and particularly of the Doge Marino’s. “ Oh,” saidne, “I willshow it you j” and conducting me to the outside, pointed out a sarcophagus in the wall with an ille-gible inscription. He said that it had been in a convent adjoining, but was removed after the French ° a me, and placed in its present situation ; that lie had seen the tomb opened at its removal; there' v ©re still some bones remaining, but no positive vestige of the decapitation. The equestrian statue^vhicli I have made mention in the third act as before that clmrcli is not, however, of a Faliero ,Pht of some other now obsolete warrior, although of a later date. There were two other Doges offamily prior to Marino ; Ordelafo , who fell in battle at Zara, in 1117 (where his descendantafterwards conquered the Huns ), and Vital Faliero , who reigned in 1082. The family, originallytom Fano, was of the most illustrious in blood and wealth in the city of once the most wealthystill the most ancient families in Europe . The length 1 have gone into on this subject will show.he interest I have taken in it. Whether I have succeeded or not in the tragedy, I have at leasttonsferred into our language an historical fact worthy of commemoration.

It is now four years that I have meditated tliis work ; and before I had sufficiently examined the©cords, I was rather disposed to have made it turn on a jealousy in Faliero . But, perceiving no©Undation for this in historical truth, and aware that jealousy is an exhausted passion in thehi'ania, I have given it a more historical form. I was, besides, well advised by the late Matthewr^wis on that point, in talking with him of my intention at Venice in 1817. 14 If you make himJ^dous,” said he, “ recollect that you have to contend with established writers, to say nothing ofgkakspere, and an exhausted subjectstick to the old fiery Doge’s natural character, which willbear yo U out, if properly drawn; and make your plot as regular as you can.” Sir William Drum-gave me nearly the same counsel. How far I have followed these instructions, or whetherhave availed me, is not for me to decide. I have had no view to the stage; in its present stateJ 618 » perhaps, not a very exalted object of ambition; besides, I have been too much behind theJ^nes to have thought it so at any time. And I cannot conceive any man of irritable feeling put-himself at the mercies of an audience. The sneering reader, and the loud critic, and the tart* jjaugier, Hist, de la Rdpub, de Venise.