They feel not, but no less are shivered. Come,
Foscari; now let us go, and leave this felon,
The sole fit habitant of such a cell,
Which he has peopled often, but ne'er fitly
Till he himself shall brood in it alone.
Enter the Doge.
Jac. Fos. My father!
Doge (embracing him). Jacopo! my son—my son!340
Jac. Fos. My father still! How long it is since I
Have heard thee name my name—our name!