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'T was not tried.
Tis vain to murmur; the majority
In council were against you.
Thanks to you, sir, And the old ducal dotard, who combined
The worthy voices which o'erruled my own.
am a judge; but must confess that part
Of our stern duty, which prescribes the Question,
He's silent in his hate, as Foscari
would sometimes feel, Could have effected. 'T was a dreadful sight
Go to, you're a child, Infirm of feeling as of purpose, blown About by every breath, shook by a sigh, And melted by a tear-a precious judge For Venice! and a worthy statesman to Be partner in my policy!
He cried out twice.
A saint had done so,
Even with the crown of glory in his eye,
As was forced on him: but he did not cry
He mutter'd many times between his teeth,
You stood more near him.
I did so.
To my surprise too, you were touch'd with mercy,
Our foes their former injuries, and lose
To milder thoughts; but, for the present, Foscari
The instance of the elders of the Council,
Moved doubtless by his wife's appearance in
The hall, and his own sufferings.-Lo! they come:
A Hall in the DOGE's Palace.
Is it your pleasure to sign the report
I overlook'd it yesterday: it wants
[The DOGE sits down and signs the paper.
I believed that swoon
And have I not oft heard thee name
It ne dies innocent, that is to say,
Wha, wouldst thou slay his memory?
SENATOR (looking at the paper).
You have forgot; it is not sign'd.
Not sign'd? Ah, I perceive my eyes begin
Your hand, too, shakes, my lord: allow me, thus
Wouldst thou have 'Tis done, I thank you.
And scanty hairs, and shaking hands, and heads
You know notMARINA.
I do I do and so should you, methinks-
Or were at least in seeming human, could
I must bear these reproaches, though they wrong me. Couldst thou but read
'Tis not upon thy brow Nor in thine eyes, nor in thine acts,-where then Should I behold this sympathy? or shall? DOGE (pointing downwards).
To exile ?
I have said it. MARINA.
And can I not go with him?
You well know
This prayer of yours was twice denied before
Austere? Atrocious! The old human fiends, With one foot in the grave, with dim eyes, strange To tears save drops of dotage, with long white
In the earth?