No More Learning

_ Alas!
Must youth support itself on age, and I
Who ought to be the prop of yours?

_Lor. _ Take mine.

_Mar. _ Touch it not, Foscari; 'twill sting you. Signor,
Stand off! be sure, that if a grasp of yours
Would raise us from the gulf wherein we are plunged, 430
No hand of ours would stretch itself to meet it.
Come, Foscari, take the hand the altar gave you;
It could not save, but will support you ever. [_Exeunt_.




ACT IV.

SCENE I. --_A Hall in the Ducal Palace_.

_Enter_ LOREDANO _and_ BARBARIGO.

_Bar.
_ And have you confidence in such a project?

_Lor. _ I have.

_Bar. _ 'Tis hard upon his years.

_Lor. _ Say rather
Kind to relieve him from the cares of State.

_Bar. _ 'Twill break his heart.

_Lor. _ Age has no heart to break.
He has seen his son's half broken, and, except
A start of feeling in his dungeon, never
Swerved.

_Bar. _ In his countenance, I grant you, never;
But I have seen him sometimes in a calm
So desolate, that the most clamorous grief
Had nought to envy him within. Where is he? 10

_Lor.