Stir—in my train, at least. I entered here
As Sovereign—I go out as citizen
By the same portals, but as citizen.
All these vain ceremonies are base insults,
Which only ulcerate the heart the more,
Applying poisons there as antidotes.
Pomp is for Princes—I am none!—That's false,
I am, but only to these gates.—Ah!
Lor.Hark!280
[The great bell of St. Mark's tolls.