The lights go out...

Doge Alvise II stood, watching through his window. Soft candlelight flickered on the painted vanes. An open one allowed a gentle breeze through, and the Doge to look out. His shoulders were sagged, and his overcoat seemed to swallow him. A lit cigar dripped ash down onto the polished floorboards. Ships travelling from the orient had dropped away, preferring to dock elsewhere. Some stalwart ships still came in, and money still flowed, though fewer. His cat mewled, and the Doge snapped from his reverie with a sigh. He put the cigar out, and sat behind his desk. He blew the candle out.