Our parting hours be lost in listening to
Reproaches, which boot nothing. Is it—is it,
Indeed, our last of meetings?
Doge.You behold
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,