Springs to the oar, and back again he goes— In his old resting-place, the bed of steel; And thence look up (Five long, long years of Grief Still in that seat-as though he had not stirred; But now he comes, convicted of a crime Great by the laws of VENICE. Night and day, 'Twas more than he could bear. Became a madness; and, resolved to go, If but to die, in his despair he writes A letter to the sovereign-prince of MILAN, * Francesco Sforza. His father, when at work in the field, was accosted by some soldiers and asked if he would enlist. 'Let me throw my mattock on that oak,' he replied,' and, if it remains there, I will.' It remained there; and the peasant, regarding it as a sign, enlisted. He became soldier, general, prince; and his grandson, in the palace at Milan, said to Paulus Jovius, 'You behold these guards and this grandeur. I owe every thing to the branch of an oak, the branch that held my grandfather's mattock.' ye know all? Had perished, blotted out at once and rased, Press to my heart ('tis all I ask of you) He is condemned To go ere set of sun, go whence he came, The vapour of a dungeon. But his (What could they less?) is granted. prayer In a hall Open and crowded by the common herd, 'Twas there a Wife and her four sons yet young, It was a high crime to solicit the intercession of any Foreign Prince. A Mother borne along, life ebbing fast, And an old Doge, mustering his strength in vain, One so long lost, one who for them had braved, Unnerved, and now unsettled in his mind From long and exquisite pain, he sobs and cries, Kissing the old Man's cheek,' Help me, my Father! Let me, I pray thee, live once more among ye: Let me go home.'' My Son,' returns the Doge, Obey. Thy Country wills it.'* GIACOMO That night embarked; sent to an early grave For one whose dying words, The deed was mine! Came when he slept in peace. The ship, that sailed 'Va e ubbidisci a quello che vuole la terra, e non cercar più oltre.' Swift as the winds with his deliverance, Bore back a lifeless corse. Generous as brave, Affection, kindness, the sweet offices Of duty and love were from his tenderest years And to become a by-word in the streets, Then was thy cup, old Man, full to the brim. Who would not leave thee; fastening on thy flank, One of a name illustrious as thine own! One of the Ten! one of the Invisible Three! * 'Twas LOREDANO. When the whelps were gone, He would dislodge the Lion from his den; * The State-Inquisitors. For an account of their Authority, see page 75. H And, leading on the pack he long had led, - I am most willing to retire,' said he : 'Ah,' he replied, 'thy father was my friend.' And now he 6 goes. It is the hour and past. I have no business here.'-—————' But wilt thou not Avoid the gazing crowd? That way is private.' 'No! as I entered, so will I retire.' And, leaning on his staff, he left the House, His residence for five-and-thirty-years, |