# Teresa Contarini/Act II
## ACT II
### SCENE I

Veniero's house. ---Veniero and Contarini
Veniero
    Thus are we diverse---both would climb to rule,
    With different ends: you for the pride of sway---
    I, to amend the people's wrongs.
Contarini
    It may be.
    Enough of that when we have reached the summit
    That now appears receding.
Veniero
    How is this?
    You've gained the Spaniard, and I've many a friend
    To add unto our list.
Contarini
    No league so strong
    But discord may dissever it. Come---come!
    Veniero, you and I are gone too far,
    And yet not far enough, for each to hope
    Safety alone. We need yet firmer ties
    To bind our mutual interests.
Veniero
    You distrust me---
Contarini
    Your pardon. In an enterprise like ours,
    Where lives and fortunes hang on mutual faith,
    Behooves us tread securely.
Veniero
    It is just.
    Nor shall you lack a pledge. My daughter's hand,
    Have I not once assured you, seals our bond!
Contarini
    True, yet I doubt. She loves seclusion:
    And if I meet her in the shaded walk,
    She shuns me with quick step. Or if we sail
    By moonlight on the glassy sea---or join
    The dance---or banquet in the palace hall---
    She meets my salutation with a mien
    Repulsive, cold, as if a guest she deemed me
    Intrusive.
Veniero
    Nay, you wrong her courtesy.
Contarini
    If wealth and rank, too poor to match her charms,
    Yet worth somewhat to youthful woman's heart,
    Could tempt her to be mine------
Veniero
    You have a pledge
    More strong---a father's promise. Were she loth,
    A prize, perchance a crown, lies at her feet,
    And 't were a kindly part to bid her wear it,
    Even in her own despite. She comes.
[Enter Teresa.
    Our noble friend doth wait to greet you here,
    The signor Contarini.
Teresa
    As your friend
    The signor Contarini's ever welcome.
Contarini
    Thanks, lady! Yet it deeply doth concern me
    Business now claims my absence, and forbids
    The dear delight I else had hoped to share
    With all your presence blesses. With the evening
    I'll seek again this happiness.
[ Exit.
Veniero
    My daughter!
    Why do thy looks---nay start not---thus belie
    The morning's joyousness.
Teresa
    What mean you, sir?
Veniero
    A change of late, hath passed upon this brow
    So open once and trusting. Thy light step
    Hath lost its buoyancy; that drooping eye
    Too often reads the ground---and meets not mine
    With glance so bright and bold, as when it had
    No consciousness of aught to hide. Dost cherish
    A grief that I know not?
Teresa
    What should I grieve for?
    You have mistaken, father.
Veniero
    Nay---perchance
    Thou lovest me not, as once thou didst? I am grown
    Much sterner than of old;---my altered bearing
    Suits not thy gentle temper.
Teresa
    Father---dearest!
    Yet cruel, and unkind, to doubt the love
    Which grows but deeper with advancing years!
    Nay, question me no more---these arms shall tell
    My growing coldness!
Veniero
    Thou dost love me then!
    'And thy young heart, in tenderness unchecked,
    Shall pour its thoughts and feelings in my breast,
    Even as of yore. Come hither! I will hear
    Patient, the tale of maiden fears and hopes;
    And note not all the trembling, downcast looks
    That comment on the story.---Come!'
Teresa
    Dear father---
    What must I tell you?'
Veniero
    O, that innocent look!
    Well, I'll unfold the secret, and list thou!
    Thou hast thrown off the garb of joyous girlhood,
    And donned a statelier one. A riper rose
    Deepens upon thy cheek. Thine eye can flash
    From its clear depth of blue such meanings forth
    As thrill the gazer's heart.'
Teresa
    Hold---would you mock
    Your own Teresa with such flatteries?'
Veniero
    Are mine alone
    The lips that breathe such sounds? Say, say, how oft
    In the gay throng of pleasure, when each tongue
    Uttered thy praise, and every eye glanced on thee
    With longing admiration, have I marked
    Thy step grow prouder, and the mantling flush
    Of beauty richer, 'neath the adoring gaze,
    As the young flower doth brighten into bloom,
    From the sun's ardent glance!'
Teresa
    Nay---nay---you wrong me
    To say I love such scenes. I ask no voice
    To sound my praise, dear father, if your eye
    Look smilingly upon me!'
Veniero
    And if one,
    One voice, my girl---in its low musical depth
    More dear and thrilling than the crowd's applause,
    Even as the far off murmur of the surge,
    Heard at hushed eve, is sweeter than the homage
    Of waves tumultuous dashing at our feet---
    If one fond voice shall whisper in your ear
    A deeper worship---Ha! methinks I've banished
    Indifference now!'
Teresa
    I pray you------'
Veniero
    Well---no more!'
    I will not question further.---But, just now,
    When summoned, thou camest hither, wherefore sate
    Repelling coldness on thy moody brow?
    Did not my guest deserve regard?
Teresa
    Forgive me,
    If I have lacked it!
Veniero
    Nay, it is not well
    To wear an aspect sullen thus and cold
    Toward one I love. This noble, my Teresa,
    Is high in power.
Teresa
    In his proud eye there lurks
    A something which I would not look upon.
Veniero
    Nought can'st thou read there, save the admiration
    Which woman never shrinks from. Hear me girl,
    This noble loves you. He who spurned all chains,
    Would be your willing captive. He has bent
    To sue, who could command; and offers you
    His greatness and his power, claiming your hand
    The purchase of such gifts.
Teresa
    Oh---never! never!
Veniero
    Come---come---displease me not. What state is proffered
    That you should slight the boon? A princely one!
    Why---not a maid in Venice but will gaze
    In envy on your pomp, as you flaunt by,
    A queen in all but name! Wed Contarini!
    The great---the proud! him that would never deign
    To bend his glance on beauty, emulous
    To court it!
Teresa
    Nay---my father! happiness
    Dwells not with pride! Not for a crown,
    A regal crown, would I bestow my hand
    Where my heart went not herald to the gift!
Veniero
    Ungrateful girl! and may not pleasure dwell
    With pomp? Or dost thou deem his years too many?
    And know'st not that to such as he, his passion
    Is an idolatry? Oh! when time has checked
    The blood's swift current, and made pale the brow
    With lofty thought, and blanched stern manhood's locks,
    Love comes with boundless power, and sways the heart
    A sole, unrivalled sovereign. How doth youth
    Wear his soft yoke? More lightly than he wears
    The pageant plume, which every fickle wind
    Stirs at its will, to be thrown careless by,
    When he shall weary of its pride! To youth
    Love is the shallow rill that mocks the sunshine,
    Wasting its strength in idle foam away:---
    To age, the river, silent, broad, and deep---
    Hiding the wealth of years within its breast---
    Baffling the vain eye that would read its depths---
    Broader and deeper growing, as the channel
    Of life wears on!
Enter Steno and Pascali.
Steno
    Signor Veniero, we arrest you.
Veniero
    Ha!
    Treachery afoot!
Teresa
    My father!---what means this?
Steno (presenting a paper)
    Would you behold our warrant?
Veniero (aside)
    'Tis his hand!
    And from the cypher breaks a clearer light
    Upon this business!(aloud)
    Though unconscious quite
    Of any deed or thought which could draw on me
    Suspicion or displeasure, I obey
    The council's will.
Teresa
    My father, go not with them!
    Some wrong is here. Nay, Signors, ye have sought
    A culprit---not Veniero, old Veniero,
    Whose head is grey in service of the state!
    The friend of Contarini, too! but now
    He parted hence.
Steno
    If he be innocent,
    Let him before the council vindicate
    His slandered fame, and be dismissed with honor:
    The guiltless can have nought to dread.
Veniero
    No more,
    Teresa! He speaks well. On false pretence
    St. Mark will ne'er condemn one who has prized
    His interests so dearly. Let us part.
    Await here my return, which I will hope
    Mine innocence shall speed.
Teresa
    No---no---my father---
    I will go with you!
Steno
    Lady---it may not be.
    Signor, we are ready.
Veniero
    I attend you.
[ Exeunt all but Teresa.
Teresa
    Gone,
    To prison, and his prison barred to me!
    I'll seek these senators. I'll plead for him
    With words of ready truth, on which shall hang
    Conviction. If there be love of justice,
"I'll rouse and arm it for my cause! [ Exit.

### SCENE II

Fiorilla's house.---Enter Fiorilla with attendants and Marco.
Fiorilla (to attendants)
    Go for the present: deck the hall of mirth
    As may become her state who bids the guests;
    And your own emulous skill. For this poor person,
    I'll care for it alone.
[ Exeunt attendants.
    You have prepared
    The chamber for our secret guests?
Marco
    'Tis ready.
    They need not fear intrusion.
Fiorilla
    All is right.
[ Exit Marco.
    I am now mistress of their secret. Set me
    A woman's wit against a statesman's arts!
    I'll hold them at my bidding. Troth, I knew not
    How great a spirit bowed to me, when knelt
    The lordly Contarini at my feet!
Enter Leonardo
    Sir, welcome.
Leonardo
    Thanks, sweet lady. I am honored
    In your fair greeting.
Fiorilla
    Tell me, you who hear
    The lightest breath of ever varying rumor,
    What says the world abroad?
Leonardo
    Tumults are stirring
    That fill the popular ear, and threaten danger
    To those in power.
Fiorilla
    What reck I of the danger
    Which statesmen tempt, when beauty's empire shakes not
    Her sparkling sceptre 'Tis, that I would wield,
    Her throne I covet.
Leonardo
    Ramor, too, has tongues
    Enough to speak of you.
Fiorilla
    And what say they?
Leonardo
    They join your name with Contarini's, lady,
    And say, they shortly will be one.
Fiorilla
    Indeed!
    'Tis an impertinent tale;---but power like his
    Were it not worth the sharing?
Leonardo
    And such grace
    And loveliness would well become its pride.
Fiorilla
    Nay---now you flatter. Come, I'll be content
    To wear mine own name now, meek Fiorilla;
    An humble one, 'Tis true, but best befitting
    Her modesty, that bears it. For the rest,
    If time have honors in his keeping for me------
Re-enter Marco.
Marco
    Lady, some other guests.
Fiorilla
    I will receive them.
[ Exeunt.

### SCENE III

Badoero's house. Enter Badoero, Loredano, and Contarini
Loredano
    We look to search out guilt among the people,
    And lo! it greets us on our very threshold!
    Who would have thought that one so widely trusted,
    A hero in our wars, one who has borne
    Honors unnumbered from the generous state,
    Could prove himself a traitor?
Badoero
    We must look
    More closely, ere we judge.
Loredano
    What need we more?
    'Twas rumored long ago that he opposed
    The election of the Ten, the prop of Venice.
    In the conspiracy so lately crushed,
    Did he not plead for mercy on the guilty?
    Hath he not said we needed not a power
    Supreme, to interfere with the decrees
    Of the great council? And this paper, found
    Only last night within the Lion's mouth,
    Denounces him our foe.
Badoero
    Be it ours to weigh
    Proofs and defence. We may not spill the blood
    Of senators precipitately, nor keep
    The axe from the guilty, though it strike the noblest.
    But what new guest is this?
Enter Teresa.
Contarini
    Lady---whence come you?
Teresa
    I come to seek for justice; yet find only
    Looks that repel me. Where's the doge?
Loredano
    Who is it,
    That thus intrudes on us?
Contarini
    Veniero's daughter.
    (Endeavouring to persuade her to return)
    Business attends us. Nay, we are not used
    To admit such counsellors.
Teresa
    Are you the judges
    Who fain would close your ears against defence,
    The culprit's right? Away! there is no place
    Where innocence may not plead against the wrong
    Which threatens it---wrong that will harm alike
    The judges and the accused. I pray you, signors,
    A word! ye will go hence the imputed crime
    To judge of one who------
Loredano
    Who hath wronged the state.
Teresa
    No---no! ye do mistake---he never did!
    Know ye of whom ye speak? 'Tis Veniero,
    The patriot, the patrician! He do wrong?
    Why---not a peasant who e'er shared his bounty,
    Would not repel the charge! I've seen him list
    With pitying, tearful eye the beggar's tale,
    Whose heart was gladdened by his sympathy!
    I've known him watch for hours beside the couch
    Of some poor menial slave, who had no friend
    Save God and him. 'He do wrong? Oh! the lips
    Of the poor bless him, and the humblest heart
    Leaps at his presence!'
Loredano
    There are sacred duties
    Higher than such, fair lady! He betrays
    The people in their rulers.
Teresa
    Believe it not!
    He has served you long and well. His years are many,
    But they outnumber not the victories
    He won for you. His hair is grey---'Tis blanched
    With hardship more than age. Would he now cast
    The reverend mantle of his honors off,
    To league with traitors? No---you need not fear him!
Loredano
    What boots all this? The guardian of the state,
    Where he fears, punishes.
Teresa
    Are ye wont to doom
    Without at least the solemn show of right?
    Will ye hear no defence? And, Contarini,
    Darest thou not speak for him, who wast so late
    His loved and honored guest? or art thou leagued
    In bitter compact with this scorner here
    To rob me of his life?
Loredano
    Let her begone;
    Must she insult us? Come, the hour draws nigh.
Badoero
    Your pardon. Heed not words that sorrow utters.
    She did not mean offence.
Teresa
    My lord---my lord!
    There's mercy in your looks; nay they are human.
    Are you my father's judge?
Badoero
    Pray you, retire,
    And be at peace.
Teresa
    You will not heed the terms
    "Traitor" and "treachery!" They mean nought---at least
    Nought---coupled with his name! Listen to me.
    I've known him long---longer than any here.
    He reared my childhood. I have state by him
    In hours of fondness, when the careless words
    Fell from his lips unnoted, save by me:---
    Think you he would deceive me? No! I'll pledge
    Life, more than life, upon his truth!
Badoero
    Nay---lady;
    This cannot aught avail. Trust in our justice.
    That shall be rendered him. If we fail not
    To rend the veil from guilt, we are not slow
    To acquit the innocent.
Teresa
    He is innocent!
Badoero
    Then go thy way, and hope the best. My lords,
    Business attends us.
[ Exeunt all but Contarini and Teresa.
Contarini
    Teresa!
Teresa (looking up)
    Who calls! You my lord, who keep
    Stern silence, when one you have called your friend
    Is basely slandered?
Contarini
    As a senator,
    I may not screen the guilty.
Teresa
    Hence, then---join
    The herd who seek his slaughter, while I go
    To share his dungeon!
Contarini
    Hear me yet a moment.
    One way remains to save his life;---and you,
    You may redeem it.
Teresa
    How? speak---and I'll bless you!
Contarini
    Briefly---your sire revealed before his arrest
    My love, my suit. Grant it---bestow your hand
    On one who loves you with a boundless passion,
    And I will stir the powers of heaven and earth
    To compass his release.
Teresa
    And do you proffer
    Such terms in earnest truth?
Contarini
    In truth I do.
    Accept them---and be blest.
Teresa
    Is this the noble
    So honored? This the haughty senator?
    Ready to barter in his selfishness
    The trust he holds? Bearing the solemn charge---
    A nation's safety---laden with the prayers
    Of suppliant millions, on his truth who rest
    Their hopes---their all---yet ready to fling down
    The mighty burthen, if it impede the way
    To some light goal of pleasure! Is't to such
    We plead?---Before I reverenced, though I feared thee,
    I scorn thee now!
Contarini
    Proud, wayward girl, remember
    Whom 'Tis you taunt!
Teresa
    Full well, my lord, I know
    There can be few like you. Within yon halls,
    Some there must be, to whom the voice of justice
    Shall not unheeded speak. To them I trust---
    To Heaven---and to the strength of innocence,
    And not to you!
[ Exit.
Contarini
    So lovely in disdain!
    She shall be mine, despite her scorn and hate!
[ Exit.

### SCENE IV

A prison.--- Veniero discovered.--- Beltramo enters with a lamp
Veniero
    Set down the lamp---there---where its beams may pierce
    Farthest into the gloom. 'Alack, the rays
    Faint ere they half can journey to these walls,
    Though sooth, they are not spacious.'---You have orders,
    Remember, to admit my child. Retire.
[ Exit Beltramo.
    A dark dawn, truly, for the gorgeous day
    That waits upon my fortunes; but its noon
    Will shine the brighter. Can he fail me now?
    I scarce would trust his plighted word alone!
    But, were it not that breath of mine could blow
    His fabric of ambition to the winds,
    I've yet another hold; he loves the girl
    Whose fair young hand must bind this wreath of glory
    Around her brows and mine.---She is here. This hour
    Improved, shall win us all.
Enter Teresa.
    My daughter here?
    I am not quite forsaken.
Teresa (clinging to him)
    No, my father!
Veniero
    Who bade thee seek me? Let me look on thee,
    Thy cheek is wet with tears. Nay, dry them girl---
    Let them not flow for me. True, I can give
    Poor welcome; yet thy loveliness breaks in
    Upon my prison's gloom, like the fresh light
    Of morning to the hopeless. Weep not for me!
    Why---foolish child! will tears undo these bars?
    They are of massive weight, and have withstood
    In ancient service past, more briny floods
    Than would have drowned this cell, save that the earth
    Drank the hot tide of anguish as it gushed,---
    More thirsty now than ever! Let me pass
    Nearer that side---methinks a freer air
    Is entering thence. Your hand, Beltramo---
Teresa
    Hold!
    What hand should serve him but mine own?---What's this?
    You tremble, you are faint! Help---ho!
Veniero
    'Tis nought!
    I do not tremble. Yet I'm sick at heart
    To look upon this dungeon---knowing here
    The wretched remnant of my days may pass,
    Shut out from light and life!
Teresa
    Oh! talk not so!
    We've friends in the council; they will never hear
    Your name attainted, and hold back in silence.
Veniero
    Alas! you know them not; know not that here
    Who is suspected is already doomed.
    'Tis hard that I should perish thus, the scorn
    Of the schooled rabble! Trust me---I would meet
    Death on the field with joy---but to be hewn
    By menial hands---gazed on by eyes that gloat
    Upon my blood---or wept by vulgar pity!
    I do not scorn to say I fear such fate.
Contarini (entering)
    You may escape it.
Veniero
    Ha!
Contarini
    Hear me, Veniero.
    I speak to you as one who is condemned,
    Though sentence be not passed. Proofs are alleged
    So specious and so startling, it were madness
    To dream of an acquittal. I alone
    By means that cannot fail, have power to save you.
Veniero
    Thanks! thanks! (aside) you've well begun!
Contarini
    Yet will I sue
    And humble me for you, to be disdained
    By yonder fair, when I shall kneel to claim
    My guerdon for such service? Shall the city
    Know that I saved you for your daughter's love,
    And know me spurned by her? No! I will plead
    For you, but as the father of my bride!
    Let your Teresa pledge her faith to me,
    Before high heaven and you;---in two hours' time
    I'll set you free.
Veniero
    Teresa!
Teresa
    It is false!
    His story's false, my father! Head him not!
    They will not sentence you!
Contarini
    You'll learn my truth,
    When 'Tis too late.
Veniero
    Dost doubt him,
    When proofs like these (pointing to his dungeon walls) confirm his tale?
    Or deem'st thou
    My life not worth the purchase?
Teresa
    Alas! my strait
    Is fearful! But I know him the deceiver!
    Trust him not. If he talk of bribes and stratagems,
    Think you he'd scruple at a gilded tale,
    To cheat us with false hopes?
Contarini
    Let the sun set,
    And you are fatherless!
Teresa
    And would you take,
    Even could you wring from me the sacrifice,
    A victim bride?
Contarini
    Aye, though I won your hate!
    From you even hate is sweetness---Choose between
    A husband whom you love not, and the death
    Of one you love!
Veniero
    Urge her no more---her choice
    Is fixed already! Let me die in peace---
    She may look on; and---if she weep for me,
    Some dearer hand will dry her short lived tears.
Teresa (struggling with emotion)
    My father!
Veniero
    Touch me not! the old man's years
    Are nearly run---why should they now be lengthened?
    These hairs are white---no matter! they'll be dabbled
    With red, full soon! My limbs are old and weary---
    They'll rest well in the grave---and until then
    The earth's a fitting bed!
    (throws himself on the ground)
Teresa (kneeling beside him)
    Oh! taunt me not
    So bitterly! Oh! I would die to save you!
Veniero
    Would die! so those who prate of filial virtue
    Talk---but shrink from the test. Off! I'll no more
    Of clinging and of honied words!
Teresa
    Dear father!
    I am your child---and more than life I love you!
    Speak to me! speak to me! With idle words
    I will displease no more.---For your sake, father,
    I will do all!---will wed---him!
Veniero
    She is yours!
[ Joins her hand with Contarini's. --- The curtain falls. ]