_Doge_. No. I Will now descend the stairs by which I mounted 240 To sovereignty--the Giants' Stairs, on whose Broad eminence I was invested Duke. My services have called me up those steps, The malice of my foes will drive me down them.[79] _There_ five and thirty years ago was I Installed, and traversed these same halls, from which I never thought to be divorced except A corse--a corse, it might be, fighting for them-- But not pushed hence by fellow-citizens. But come; my son and I will go together-- 250 He to his grave, and I to pray for mine. _Chief of the Ten_. What! thus in public? _Doge_. I was publicly Elected, and so will I be deposed. Marina! art thou willing? _Mar._ Here's my arm! _Doge_. And here my _staff_: thus propped will I go forth. _Chief of the Ten_. It must not be--the people will perceive it. _Doge_. The people,--There's no people, you well know it, Else you dare not deal thus by them or me. There is a _populace_, perhaps, whose looks May shame you; but they dare not groan nor curse you, 260 Save with their hearts and eyes. _Chief of the Ten_. You speak in passion, Else---- _Doge_. You have reason. I have spoken much More than my wont: it is a foible which Was not of mine, but more excuses you, Inasmuch as it shows, that I approach A dotage which may justify this deed Of yours, although the law does not, nor will. Farewell, sirs! _Bar._ You shall not depart without An escort fitting past and present rank. We will accompany, with due respect, 270 The Doge unto his private palace. Say! My brethren, will we not? _Different voices_. Aye!--Aye! _Doge_. You shall not Stir--in my train, at least. I entered here As Sovereign--I go out as citizen By the same portals, but as citizen. All these vain ceremonies are base insults, Which only ulcerate the heart the more, Applying poisons there as antidotes. Pomp is for Princes--I am none!--That's false, I _am_, but only to these gates.--Ah! _Lor._ Hark! 280 [_The great bell of St. Mark's tolls_. _Bar._ The bell! _Chief of the Ten_. St. Mark's, which tolls for the election Of Malipiero. _Doge_. Well I recognise The sound! I heard it once, but once before, And that is five and thirty years ago; Even _then_ I _was not young_. _Bar._ Sit down, my Lord! You tremble. _Doge_. 'Tis the knell of my poor boy! My heart aches bitterly. _Bar._ I pray you sit.