_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 shore--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, God!
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, God!--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;
T