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.