_Mar._ That's false! You came here to enjoy a heartless triumph Of cold looks upon manifold griefs! You came To be sued to in vain--to mark our tears, And hoard our groans--to gaze upon the wreck Which you have made a Prince's son--my husband; In short, to trample on the fallen--an office 330 The hangman shrinks from, as all men from him! How have you sped? We are wretched, Signor, as Your plots could make, and vengeance could desire us, And how _feel you_? _Lor._ As rocks. _Mar._ By thunder blasted: They feel not, but no less are shivered. Come, Foscari; now let us go, and leave this felon, The sole fit habitant of such a cell, Which he has peopled often, but ne'er fitly Till he himself shall brood in it alone. _Enter the_ DOGE. _Jac. Fos._ My father! _Doge_ (_embracing him_). Jacopo! my son--my son! 340 _Jac. Fos._ My father still! How long it is since I Have heard thee name my name--_our_ name! _Doge_. My boy! Couldst thou but know---- _Jac. Fos._ I rarely, sir, have murmured. _Doge_. I feel too much thou hast not. _Mar._ Doge, look there! [_She points to_ LOREDANO. _Doge_. I see the man--what mean'st thou? _Mar._ Caution! _Lor._ Being The virtue which this noble lady most[bq] May practise, she doth well to recommend it. _Mar._ Wretch! 'tis no virtue, but the policy Of those who fain must deal perforce with vice: As such I recommend it, as I would 350 To one whose foot was on an adder's path. _Doge_. Daughter, it is superfluous; I have long Known Loredano. _Lor._ You may know him better. _Mar._ Yes; _worse_ he could not. _Jac. Fos._ Father, let not these Our parting hours be lost in listening to Reproaches, which boot nothing. Is it--is it, Indeed, our last of meetings? _Doge_. You behold These white hairs! _Jac. Fos._ And I feel, besides, that mine Will never be so white. Embrace me, father! I loved you ever--never more than now. 360 Look to my children--to your last child's children: Let them be all to you which he was once, And never be to you what I am now. May I not see _them_ also? _Mar._ No--not _here_. _Jac. Fos._ They might behold their parent any where.