Howe'er remote the period. Let there be

A point of time, as beacon to my heart,

With any penalty annexed they please,

But let me still return.

Doge.‍Son Jacopo,

Go and obey our Country's will:[72] 'tis not

For us to look beyond.

Jac. Fos.‍But still I must

Look back. I pray you think of me.

Doge.‍Alas!