No More Learning

Fos. _ You! --you are he 150
Who yesterday presided o'er my pangs--
Away! --I'll walk alone.

_Offi. _ As you please, Signor;
The sentence was not of my signing, but
I dared not disobey the Council when
They----

_Jac. Fos. _ Bade thee stretch me on their horrid engine.
I pray thee touch me not--that is, just now;
The time will come they will renew that order,
But keep off from me till 'tis issued. As
I look upon thy hands my curdling limbs
Quiver with the anticipated wrenching, 160
And the cold drops strain through my brow, as if----
But onward--I have borne it--I can bear it. --
How looks my father?

_Offi. _ With his wonted aspect.

_Jac. Fos.
_ So does the earth, and sky, the blue of Ocean,
The brightness of our city, and her domes,
The mirth of her Piazza--even now
Its merry hum of nations pierces here,
Even here, into these chambers of the unknown
Who govern, and the unknown and the unnumbered
Judged and destroyed in silence,--all things wear 170
The self-same aspect, to my very sire!
Nothing can sympathise with Foscari,
Not even a Foscari. --Sir, I attend you.
[_Exeunt_ JACOPO FOSCARI, _Officer, etc. _

_Enter_ MEMMO _and another Senator_.

_Mem. _ He's gone--we are too late:--think you "the Ten"
Will sit for any length of time to-day?

_Sen. _ They say the prisoner is most obdurate,
Persisting in his first avowal; but
More I know not.

_Mem. _ And that is much; the secrets
Of yon terrific chamber are as hidden
From us, the premier nobles of the state, 180
As from the people.

_Sen. _ Save the wonted rumours,
Which--like the tales of spectres, that are rife
Near ruined buildings--never have been proved,
Nor wholly disbelieved: men know as little
Of the state's real acts as of the grave's
Unfathomed mysteries.

_Mem. _ But with length of time
We gain a step in knowledge, and I look
Forward to be one day of the decemvirs.

_Sen.