_Mar._ I would that they beheld their father in A place which would not mingle fear with love, To freeze their young blood in its natural current. They have fed well, slept soft, and knew not that Their sire was a mere hunted outlaw. Well, 370 I know his fate may one day be their heritage, But let it only be their _heritage_, And not their present fee. Their senses, though Alive to love, are yet awake to terror; And these vile damps, too, and yon _thick green_ wave Which floats above the place where we now stand-- A cell so far below the water's level, Sending its pestilence through every crevice, Might strike them: _this is not their_ atmosphere, However you--and you--and most of all, 380 As worthiest--_you_, sir, noble Loredano! May breathe it without prejudice. _Jac. Fos._ I had not Reflected upon this, but acquiesce. I shall depart, then, without meeting them? _Doge_. Not so: they shall await you in my chamber. _Jac. Fos._ And must I leave them--_all_? _Lor._ You must. _Jac. Fos._ Not one? _Lor._ They are the State's. _Mar._ I thought they had been mine. _Lor._ They are, in all maternal things. _Mar._ That is, In all things painful. If they're sick, they will Be left to me to tend them; should they die, 390 To me to bury and to mourn; but if They live, they'll make you soldiers, senators, Slaves, exiles--what _you_ will; or if they are Females with portions, brides and _bribes_ for nobles! Behold the State's care for its sons and mothers! _Lor._ The hour approaches, and the wind is fair. _Jac. Fos._ How know you that here, where the genial wind Ne'er blows in all its blustering freedom? _Lor._ 'Twas so When I came here. The galley floats within A bow-shot of the "Riva di Schiavoni." 400 _Jac. Fos._ Father! I pray you to precede me, and Prepare my children to behold their father. _Doge_. Be firm, my son! _Jac. Fos._ I will do my endeavour. _Mar._ Farewell! at least to this detested dungeon, And him to whose good offices you owe In part your past imprisonment. _Lor._ And present Liberation. _Doge_. He speaks truth. _Jac. Fos._ No doubt! but 'tis Exchange of chains for heavier chains I owe him. He knows this, or he had not sought to change them, But I reproach not. _Lor._ The time narrows, Signor. 410