Offi. May I pass on?

Lor.‍You may.

Bar.‍How bears the Doge

This last calamity?

Offi.‍With desperate firmness.

In presence of another he says little,

But I perceive his lips move now and then;

And once or twice I heard him, from the adjoining

Apartment, mutter forth the words—"My son!"

Scarce audibly. I must proceed.[Exit Officer.