4(38 BYRON’S

Bears but the scars oi mind, the thoughts ofyears,

Not tlieir decreptitude! and.he of lateHas been more agitated than his wont.

Would he were come ! for X alone have power'(Jpon his troubled spirit.

Mar. It is true.

His highness has of late been.greatiy movedBy the affront of Steno, and with cause :

But the offender, doubtless, oven nowIs doom’d to expiate his rush insult withSuch chastisement as willen'orce respectlo female virtue, and to noble blood.

Any. ’Twas a gross insult; but X heed it not,For the rash Boomer 's falsehood in itself,

But for the effect, the deadly, deep impressionWhich it has made upon X’aiicro’s soul,

The proud, the fiory, the austere—austereT'oaji save me: I fc. emble when I thinkTo what it may conduct.

Mar. Assuredly

Tbc Doge cannot suspect you HAny. Suspect me /

"Why Steno dar’d not: when he scrawled his lie,G-roveiling by stealth in the inoon’s glimmeringlight,

His own still conscience smote him for the act,And every shadow on the walls frown’d shameUpon his coward calumny.

Mar. ’Twcre ht

He should be punished grievously.

Any. He is so.

Mar. What! is the sentence pass’d ? is lie con-demn’d ’(

Any. I know not that, but ho has been de-tected.

Mar. And deem you this enough for such foul-scorn ?

Ana . I would not be a judge in my own cause,Nor do X know what sense of punishmentMay reach the soul of ribalds such as Steno ;

Bur if his insults sink no deeper inThe minds of the inquisitors than they'

Have ruffled mine, he will, for all acquittance,

Be left; to his own shamelessness or shame.

Mar. Some sacrifice is due to slander’d virtue.Any. Why, what is virtue if it needs a victim ?Or if it must depend upon men’s words ?

The dying Roman said, “ ’Twas but a namelb were indeed no inoro, if human breathCould make or mar it.

Mar. Yet full many a dame,

Stainless and faithful, would feel all the wrongOf such a slander; and less rigid ladies,

Such as abound in Venice, would be loudAud all-inexorable in their cryBor justice.

Aug. This but proves it is the name

And not the quality they prize: the lirstHave found it a hard task to hold their honour,If they require it to be blazon’d forth;

And those who have not kept it, seek its seem-ing

A.s they would look for an ornamentOf which they feel-the want, but not becauseThey think it so; they live in others’ thoughts,And would seem honest as they must seem fair.Mar. You have strange thoughts for a patriciandame.

Any. And yet they were my father’s; with hisname,

The sole inheritance he left.

WORKS.

Mar. Yon want no»0;

Wife to a prince, the chief of the Republic .

Any. I should have sought none, though a pea-sant’s bride,

But feel not less the love and gratitudeDue to my father, who bestow’d my handUpon his early, tried, and trusted friend,

The Count Val di Marino, now our Doge.

Mar. And with that hand did he bestow ycurheart Y

Any. He did so, or it had not been bestow’d.Mar. Yet this strange disproportion in youryears,

And, let me add, disparity of tempers,

Might make the world doubt whether such anunion

Could make you wisely, permanently happy.

Any. The world will think with worldlings;but my heart

Has still been iu my duties, which are many,

But never difficult.

Mar. And do you love him ?

Aa</. I love all noble qualities which meritLove , aud I loved my father, who first taught r.:cTo single out what we should love in others,

Aud to subdue all tendency to lendThe Lest and purest feelings of our natureTo baser passions He bestow’d my handUpon Faliero; he had known him noble,

Bravo, generous ; rich in all the qualitiesOf soldier, citizen, aud friend; in allSuch have I found him as my father said.

His faults are those tiiat dwell in the high bosomsOf men who have commanded; too much price,And the deep passions fiercely fostered byThe uses of patricians, and a lifeSpent in the storms of state and war; and alsoFrom tlie quick sense of honour, which becomesA duty to a certain sign, a viceWhen overstrain’d, and this I fear in him.

And then he has been rash from his youth upwards,Yet temper’d by redeeming noblenessXu such sort, that the wariest of republicsHas lavished all its chief employs upon him,From his first fight to liis last embassy,

From which on liis return the dukedom met him.Mar. But previous to this marriage, hud yourheart

Ne’er beat for any of the noble youth,

Such as in years had been more meet to matchBeauty like yours ? or since have you ne'er seenCue who, if your fair hand were still to give,Might now pretend to I.oredano’s daughter ?Any. I answer’d your first question when Isaid I married.

Mar. Aud the second ?

Ang. Needs no answer.

Mar. I pray you pardon, if X have offended.Any. Ifeelno wrath, but some surprise; I knewnot

That wedded bosoms could permit themselvesTo ponder upon what they note might choose,

Or aught save their past choice.

Mar. ’Tis their past choice

That far too often makes them deem they wouldNow choose more wisely could they cancel it.Ang. It may be so. I knew not of such thoughts*Mar. Here comes the Doge—shall I retire ?Any. It may

Be better you should quit me ; he seems wraptIn thought.—How pensively ho takes his way!

[E.ut MariftWia.