The Works of Lord Byron - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_Jac. Fos._ Double, Triple, and tenfold torture! But you are right, It must be borne. Father, your blessing.
_Doge_. Would It could avail thee! but no less thou hast it.
_Jac. Fos._ Forgive----
_Doge_. What?
_Jac. Fos._ My poor mother, for my birth, 160 And me for having lived, and you yourself (As I forgive you), for the gift of life, Which you bestowed upon me as my sire.
_Mar._ What hast thou done?
_Jac. Fos._ Nothing. I cannot charge My memory with much save sorrow: but I have been so beyond the common lot Chastened and visited, I needs must think That I was wicked. If it be so, may What I have undergone here keep me from A like hereafter!
_Mar._ Fear not: _that's_ reserved 170 For your oppressors.
_Jac. Fos._ Let me hope not.
_Mar._ Hope not?
_Jac. Fos._ I cannot wish them _all_ they have inflicted.
_Mar._ _All!_ the consummate fiends! A thousandfold May the worm which never dieth feed upon them!
_Jac. Fos._ They may repent.
_Mar._ And if they do, Heaven will not Accept the tardy penitence of demons.
_Enter an Officer and Guards_.
_Offi._ Signor! the boat is at the sh.o.r.e--the wind Is rising--we are ready to attend you.
_Jac. Fos._ And I to be attended. Once more, father, Your hand!
_Doge_. Take it. Alas! how thine own trembles! 180
_Jac. Fos._ No--you mistake; 'tis yours that shakes, my father.
Farewell!
_Doge_. Farewell! Is there aught else?
_Jac. Fos._ No--nothing.
[_To the Officer_.
Lend me your arm, good Signor.
_Offi._ You turn pale-- Let me support you--paler--ho! some aid there!
Some water!
_Mar._ Ah, he is dying!
_Jac. Fos._ Now, I'm ready-- My eyes swim strangely--where's the door?
_Mar._ Away!
Let me support him--my best love! Oh, G.o.d!
How faintly beats this heart--this pulse!
_Jac. Fos._ The light!
_Is_ it the light?--I am faint.
[_Officer presents him with water_.
_Offi._ He will be better, Perhaps, in the air.
_Jac. Fos._ I doubt not. Father--wife-- 190 Your hands!
_Mar._ There's death in that damp, clammy grasp.[74]
Oh, G.o.d!--My Foscari, how fare you?
_Jac. Fos._ Well! [_He dies_.
_Offi._ He's gone!
_Doge_. He's free.
_Mar._ No--no, he is not dead; There must be life yet in that heart--he could not[bs]
Thus leave me.
_Doge_. Daughter!
_Mar._ Hold thy peace, old man!
I am no daughter now--thou hast no son.
Oh, Foscari!
_Offi._ We must remove the body.
_Mar._ Touch it not, dungeon miscreants! your base office Ends with his life, and goes not beyond murder, Even by your murderous laws. Leave his remains 200 To those who know to honour them.
_Offi._ I must Inform the Signory, and learn their pleasure.
_Doge_. Inform the Signory from _me_, the Doge, They have no further power upon those ashes: While he lived, he was theirs, as fits a subject-- Now he is _mine_--my broken-hearted boy! [_Exit Officer_.
_Mar._ And I must live!
_Doge_. Your children live, Marina.
_Mar._ My children! true--they live, and I must live To bring them up to serve the State, and die As died their father. Oh! what best of blessings 210 Were barrenness in Venice! Would my mother Had been so!
_Doge_. My unhappy children!
_Mar._ What!
