[56]--So, we are slaves,
The greatest as the meanest--nothing rests
Upon our will; the will itself no less[bj]
Depends upon a straw than on a storm; 360
And when we think we lead, we are most led,[57]
And still towards Death, a thing which comes as much
Without our act or choice as birth, so that Methinks
we must have sinned in some old world,
And _this_ is Hell: the best is, that it is not
Eternal.
Byron
_ I remember _mine_.--Farewell!
I kiss the hands of the illustrious Lady,
And bow me to the Duke. [_Exit_ LOREDANO.
_Mar._ Are you content? 330
_Doge_. I am what you behold.
_Mar._ And that's a mystery.
_Doge_. All things are so to mortals; who can read them
Save he who made? or, if they can, the few
And gifted spirits, who have studied long
That loathsome volume--man, and pored upon
Those black and bloody leaves, his heart and brain,[bf]
But learn a magic which recoils upon
The adept who pursues it: all the sins
We find in others, Nature made our own;
All our advantages are those of Fortune; 340
Birth, wealth, health, beauty, are her accidents,
And when we cry out against Fate, 'twere well
We should remember Fortune can take nought
Save what she _gave_--the rest was nakedness,
And lusts, and appetites, and vanities,
The universal heritage, to battle
With as we may, and least in humblest stations,[bg]
Where Hunger swallows all in one low want,[bh]
And the original ordinance, that man
Must sweat for his poor pittance, keeps all passions 350
Aloof, save fear of famine! All is low,
And false, and hollow--clay from first to last,
The Prince's urn no less than potter's vessel.
Our Fame is in men's breath, our lives upon
Less than their breath; our durance upon days[bi]
Our days on seasons; our whole being on
Something which is not _us_!
[56]--So, we are slaves,
The greatest as the meanest--nothing rests
Upon our will; the will itself no less[bj]
Depends upon a straw than on a storm; 360
And when we think we lead, we are most led,[57]
And still towards Death, a thing which comes as much
Without our act or choice as birth, so that Methinks
we must have sinned in some old world,
And _this_ is Hell: the best is, that it is not
Eternal.
_Mar._ These are things we cannot judge
On earth.
_Doge_. And how then shall we judge each other,
Who are all earth, and I, who am called upon
To judge my son? I have administered
My country faithfully--victoriously-- 370
I dare them to the proof, the _chart_ of what
She was and is: my reign has doubled realms;
And, in reward, the gratitude of Venice
Has left, or is about to leave, _me_ single.
_Mar._ And Foscari? I do not think of such things,
So I be left with him.
_Doge_. You shall be so;
Thus much they cannot well deny.
_Mar._ And if
They should, I will fly with him.
_Doge_. That can ne'er be.
And whither would you fly?
