Is it--is it,
Indeed, our last of meetings?
Indeed, our last of meetings?
Byron
_ 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.
_Mar.
_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.
_Mar.
