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Who shall despise her !(1)-She shall stoop to be
A province for an empire, petty town

In lieu of capital, with slaves for senates,
Beggars for nobles, (2) panders for a people! (3)

(1) Should the dramatic picture seem harsh, let the reader look to the historical, of the period prophesied, or rather of the few years preceding that period. Voltaire calculated their "nostre bene merite Meretrici" at 12,000 of regulars, without including volunteers and local militia, on what authority I know not; but it is, perhaps, the only part of the population not decreased. Venice once contained two hundred thousand inhabitants: there are now about ninety thousand; and THESE!! few individuals can conceive, and none could describe, the actual state into which the more than infernal tyranny of Austria has plunged this unhappy city. From the present decay and degeneracy of Venice under the Barbarians, there are some honourable individual exceptions. There is Pasqualigo, the last, and, alas! posthumous son of the marriage of the Doges with the Adriatic, who fought his frigate with far greater gallantry than any of his French coadjutors in the memorable action off Lissa. I came home in the squadron with the prizes in 1811, and recollect to have heard Sir William Hoste, and the other officers engaged in that glorious conflict, speak in the highest terms of Pasqualigo's behaviour. There is the Abbate Morelli. There is Alvise Querini, who, after a long and honourable diplomatic career, finds some consolation for the wrongs of his country, in the pursuits of literature with his nephew, Vittor Benzon, the son of the celebrated beauty, the heroine of "La Biondina in Gondoletta." There are the patrician poet Morosini, and the poet Lamberti, the author of the "Biondina," &c. and many other estimable productions; and, not least in an Englishman's estimation, Madame Michelli, the translator of Shakspeare. There are the young Dandolo and the improvvisatore Carrer, and Giuseppe Albrizzi, the accomplished son of an accomplished mother. There is Aglietti, and, were there nothing else, there is the immortality of Canova. Cicognara, Mustoxithi, Bucati, &c. &c. I do not reckon, because the one is a Greek, and the others were born at least a hundred miles off, which, throughout Italy, constitutes, if not a foreigner, at least a stranger (forestiere).

(2) [MS. Beggars for nobles,

{

lazars
lepers

for a people!"]

(3) [The following sketch of the indigent Venetian noble is by Gritti:

"Sono un povero ladro aristocratico

Errante per la Veneta palude,
Che i denti per il mio duro panatico
Aguzzo in su la cote e in su l'incude;

Then when the Hebrew's in thy palaces, (1)
The Hun in thy high places, and the Greek
Walks o'er thy mart, and smiles on it for his!
When thy patricians beg their bitter bread
In narrow streets, and in their shameful need
Make their nobility a plea for pity!

Then, when the few who still retain a wreck
Of their great fathers' heritage shall fawn
Round a barbarian Vice of Kings' Vice-gerent,
Even in the palace where they sway'd as sovereigns,
Even in the palace where they slew their sovereign,
Proud of some name they have disgraced, or sprung
From an adulteress boastful of her guilt

With some large gondolier or foreign soldier,
Shall bear about their bastardy in triumph
To the third spurious generation; (2) — when

Mi slombo in piedi, e a seder' mi snatico,
Ballotando or la fame, or la virtude :
Prego, piango, minaccio, insisto, adulo,
Ed ho me stesso, e la mia patria in culo."

"I'm a poor peer of Venice loose among her
Marshes! With standing bows I've double grown,
And in my trade of place and pension-monger,
Sate till I've ground my buttocks to the bone;
Balloting now for merit, now for hunger;

Breaking, myself, my teeth, upon a stone,

I crave, cringe, storm, and strive, through life's short farce,
And vote friends, self, and country all "

ROSE.

(1) The chief palaces on the Brenta now belong to the Jews; who in the earlier times of the republic were only allowed to inhabit Mestri, and not to enter the city of Venice. The whole commerce is in the hands of the Jews and Greeks, and the Huns form the garrison.

(2) ["It must be owned," says Bishop Heber, "that the Duke bears his calamities with a patience which would be more heroic if it were less wordy. It is possible that a condemned man might recollect his quarrel with the Bishop of Treviso, and the evil omen which accompanied his

Thy sons are in the lowest scale of being,

Slaves turn'd o'er to the vanquish'd by the victors,
Despised by cowards for greater cowardice,

And scorn'd even by the vicious for such vices
As in the monstrous grasp of their conception

solemn landing at Venice. But there are not many condemned men who, during a last and stinted interview with a beloved wife, would have employed so much time in relating anecdotes of themselves; and we should least of all expect it in one whose fiery character would have induced him to hurry forward to his end. The same objection applies to his prophecy of the future miseries of Venice. Its language and imagery are, doubtless, extremely powerful and impressive; but we cannot allow that it is either dramatic or characteristic. A prophecy (which we knew to be ex post facto) is, under any circumstances, one of the cheapest and least artificial of poetical machines. But, under such circumstances as the present, no audience could have endured so long a speech without disgust and weariness; and Marino Faliero was most likely to have met his death like our own Sydney

'With no harangue idly proclaim'd aloud

To catch the worthless plaudit of the crowd ;

No feeble boast, death's terrors to defy,

Yet still delaying, as afraid to die!'

His last speech to the executioner would, probably, have been his only

one:

Slave, do thine office!

Strike as I struck the foe! Strike as I would

Have struck those tyrants! Strike deep as my curse!

Strike, and but once!'- Qu. Rev. vol. xxvii. p. 90.

We are surprised that Bishop Heber did not quote Andrew Marvell's magnificent lines on Charles I. : —

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Defy all codes to image or to name them;
Then, when of Cyprus, now thy subject kingdom,
All thine inheritance shall be her shame
Entail'd on thy less virtuous daughters, grown
A wider proverb for worse prostitution ;-
When all the ills of conquer'd states shall cling thee,
Vice without splendour, sin without relief
Even from the gloss of love to smooth it o'er,
But in its stead, coarse lusts of habitude,
Prurient yet passionless, cold studied lewdness,
Depraving nature's frailty to an art ;—

When these and more are heavy on thee, when
Smiles without mirth, and pastimes without pleasure,
Youth without honour, age without respect,
Meanness and weakness, and a sense of woe
'Gainst which thou wilt not strive, and dar'st not
murmur, (1)

(1) If the Doge's prophecy seem remarkable, look to the following, made by Alamanni two hundred and seventy years ago: -"There is one very singular prophecy concerning Venice: If thou dost not change,' it says to that proud republic, 'thy liberty, which is already on the wing, will not reckon a century more than the thousandth year.' If we carry back the epocha of Venetian freedom to the establishment of the government under which the republic flourished, we shall find that the date of the election of the first Doge is 697; and if we add one century to a thousand, that is, eleven hundred years, we shall find the sense of the prediction to be literally this: Thy liberty will not last till 1797.' Recollect that Venice ceased to be free in the year 1796, the fifth year of the French republic; and you will perceive, that there never was prediction more pointed, or more exactly followed by the event. You will, therefore, note as very remarkable the three lines of Alamanni addressed to Venice; which, however, no one has pointed out:

Se non cangi pensier, un secol solo

Non conterà sopra 'l millesimo anno
Tua libertà, che va fuggendo a volo.'

Many prophecies have passed for such, and many men have been called prophets for much less." GINGUENE', Hist. Lit. de l'Italie, t. ix. p. 144.

Have made thee last and worst of peopled deserts,
Then, in the last gasp of thine agony,

Amidst thy many murders, think of mine!
Thou den of drunkards with the blood of princes!(1)
Gehenna of the waters! thou sea Sodom! (2)
Thus I devote thee to the infernal gods!

Thee and thy serpent seed!(3)

[Here the DOGE turns and addresses the Executioner.

Slave, do thine office!

Strike as I struck the foe! Strike as I would
Have struck those tyrants! Strike deep as my curse!
Strike-and but once!

[The DOGE throws himself upon his knees, and as

the Executioner raises his sword the scene closes.

(1) Of the first fifty Doges, five abdicated-five were banished with their eyes put out five were MASSACRED― and nine deposed; so that nineteen out of fifty lost the throne by violence, besides two who fell in battle: this occurred long previous to the reign of Marino Faliero. One of his more immediate predecessors, Andrea Dandolo, died of vexation. Marino Faliero himself perished as related. Amongst his successors, Foscari, after seeing his son repeatedly tortured and banished, was deposed, and died of breaking a blood-vessel, on hearing the bell of Saint Mark's toll for the election of his successor. Morosini was impeached for the loss of Candia; but this was previous to his dukedom, during which he conquered the Morea, and was styled the Peloponnesian. Faliero might truly say,

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"Thou den of drunkards with the blood of princes! (2) [MS." Thou brothel of the waters! thou sea Sodom!"] (3) [The sentence is pronounced, a brief hour is permitted for the last devotions, and then, - still robed in his ducal gown, and wearing the diadem, preceded with all the pomp of his station, from which he is to be degraded in the moment only before the blow be struck, Marino Faliero is led solemnly to the Giant's Staircase, at the summit of which he had been crowned. On that spot he is to expiate his offence against the majesty of the Venetian state. His wife struggles to accompany him to the dreadful spot, but she faints, and he leaves her on the marble pavement, forbidding them to raise her, until all had been accomplished with himself. Lord Byron breaks out with all his power in the curse with which he makes this old man take leave of the scene of his triumphs and his

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