The sigh of long imprisonment, the step
Of feet on which the iron clanked the groan
Of Death, the imprecation of Despair!
And yet for this I have returned to Venice,
With some faint hope, 'tis true, that Time, which wears
The marble down, had worn away the hate
Of men's hearts; but I knew them not, and here
Must I consume my own, which never beat 10
For Venice but with such a yearning as
The dove has for her distant nest, when wheeling
High in the air on her return to greet
Her callow brood. What letters are these which
[_Approaching the wall_.
Are scrawled along the inexorable wall?
Will the gleam let me trace them? Ah! the names
Of my sad predecessors in this place,[59]
The dates of their despair, the brief words of
A grief too great for many. This stone page
Holds like an epitaph their history; 20
And the poor captive's tale is graven on
His dungeon barrier, like the lover's record
Upon the bark of some tall tree,[60] which bears
His own and his beloved's name. Alas!
I recognise some names familiar to me,
And blighted like to mine, which I will add,
Fittest for such a chronicle as this,
Which only can be read, as writ, by wretches.[bk]
[_He engraves his name_.

_Enter a Familiar of "the Ten."_

_Fam._ I bring you food.

_Jac. Fos._ I pray you set it down;
I am past hunger: but my lips are parched-- 30
The water!

_Fam._ There.

_Jac. Fos._ (_after drinking_). I thank you: I am better.

_Fam._ I am commanded to inform you that
Your further trial is postponed.

_Jac. Fos._ Till when?

_Fam._ I know not.--It is also in my orders
That your illustrious lady be admitted.

_Jac. Fos._ Ah! they relent, then--I had ceased to hope it:
'Twas time.

_Enter_ MARINA.

_Mar._ My best beloved!

_Jac. Fos._ (_embracing her_). My true wife,
And only friend! What happiness!

_Mar._ We'll part
No more.

_Jac. Fos._ How! would'st thou share a dungeon?

_Mar._ Aye,
The rack, the grave, all--any thi