Classic and Contemporary Poetry

VENICE PRESERVED, by THOMAS OTWAY Poet Analysis Poet's Biography
First Line: In these distracted times, when each man dreads
Last Line: And villains never wrong his virtue more.

PROLOGUE.

IN these distracted times, when each man dreads
The bloody stratagems of busy heads;
When we have feared, three years, we know not what,
Till witnesses begin to die o' the rot,
What made our poet meddle with a plot?
Was't that he fancied, for the very sake
And name of plot, his trifling play might take?
For there's not in't one inch-board evidence,
But 'tis, he says, to reason plain, and sense,
And that he thinks a plausible defence.
Were truth by sense and reason to be tried,
Sure all our swearers might be laid aside:
No, of such tools our author has no need,
To make his plot, or make his play succeed;
He of black bills has no prodigious tales,
Or Spanish pilgrims cast ashore in Wales;
Here's not one murdered magistrate at least,
Kept rank, like venison for a city feast;
Grown four days stiff, the better to prepare
And fit his pliant limbs to ride in chair:
Yet here's an army raised, though under ground,
But no man seen, nor one commission found;
Here is a traitor too that's very old,
Turbulent, subtle, mischievous, and bold;
Bloody, revengeful, and, to crown his part,
Loves fumbling with a wench with all his heart;
Till after having many changes past,
In spite of age (thanks Heaven) is hanged at last.
Next is a senator that keeps a whore,
In Venice none a higher office bore;
To lewdness every night the lecher ran:
Show me, all London, such another man,
Match him at Mother Creswold's if you can.
O Poland, Poland! had it been thy lot,
T'have heard in time of this Venetian plot,
Thou surely chosen hadst one king from thence,
And honoured them, as thou hast England since.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

Duke of VENICE.
PRIULI, Father of Belvidera, a Senator.
ANTONIO, a fine speaker in the Senate.
BEDAMAR, the Spanish Ambassador.
JAFFIER, Conspirators.
PIERRE,
RENAULT,
SPINOSA,
THEODORE,
ELIOT,
REVILLIDO,
DURAND,
MEZZANA,
BRAINVILLE,
TERNON,
RETROSI,
BRABE,

BELVIDERA.
AQUILINA, a Greek Courtesan.
Two Women, Attendants on Belvidera.
Two Women, Servants to Aquilina.
The Council of Ten.
Officer, Guard, Friar, Executioner, and Rabble.

SCENE—VENICE.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I.—A Public Place.

Enter PRIULI and JAFFIER.

PRIU. No more! I'll hear no more; begone and leave me.
Jaff. Not hear me! by my suffering but you shall!
My lord, my lord! I'm not that abject wretch
You think me: patience! where's the distance throws
Me back so far, but I may boldly speak
In right, though proud oppression will not hear me?
Priu. Have you not wronged me?
Jaff. Could my nature e'er
Have brooked injustice, or the doing wrongs,
I need not now thus low have bent myself,
To gain a hearing from a cruel father!
Wronged you?
Priu. Yes, wronged me: in the nicest point,
The honour of my house, you've done me wrong.
You may remember,—for I now will speak,
And urge its baseness,—when you first came home
From travel, with such hopes as made you looked on
By all men's eyes, a youth of expectation,
Pleased with your growing virtue, I received you,
Courted, and sought to raise you to your merits:
My house, my table, nay, my fortune too,
My very self was yours; you might have used me
To your best service; like an open friend,
I treated, trusted you, and thought you mine;
When, in requital of my best endeavours,
You treacherously practised to undo me;
Seduced the weakness of my age's darling,
My only child, and stole her from my bosom—
O Belvidera!
Jaff. 'Tis to me you owe her;
Childless you had been else, and in the grave
Your name extinct, no more Priuli heard of.
You may remember, scarce five years are past
Since in your brigantine you sailed to see
The Adriatic wedded by our Duke,
And I was with you: your unskilful pilot
Dashed us upon a rock, when to your boat
You made for safety; entered first yourself:
The affrighted Belvidera, following next,
As she stood trembling on the vessel's side,
Was by a wave washed off into the deep;
When instantly I plunged into the sea,
And, buffeting the billows to her rescue,
Redeemed her life with half the loss of mine.
Like a rich conquest, in one hand I bore her,
And with the other dashed the saucy waves,
That thronged and pressed to rob me of my prize:
I brought her, gave her to your despairing arms.
Indeed you thanked me; but a nobler gratitude
Rose in her soul; for from that hour she loved me,
Till for her life she paid me with herself.
Priu. You stole her from me; like a thief you stole her,
At dead of night, that cursèd hour you chose
To rifle me of all my heart held dear.
May all your joys in her prove false like mine!
A sterile fortune, and a barren bed,
Attend you both! continual discord make
Your days and nights bitter and grievous! still
May the hard hand of a vexatious need
Oppress and grind you, till at last you find
The curse of disobedience all your portion!
Jaff. Half of your curse you have bestowed in vain:
Heaven has already crowned our faithful loves
With a young boy, sweet as his mother's beauty:
May he live to prove more gentle than his grandsire,
And happier than his father!
Priu. Rather live
To bait thee for his bread, and din your ears
With hungry cries; whilst his unhappy mother
Sits down and weeps in bitterness of want.
Jaff. You talk as if 'twould please you.
Priu. 'Twould, by Heaven!
Once she was dear indeed; the drops that fell
From my sad heart when she forgot her duty,
The fountain of my life, were not so precious!
But she is gone, and if I am a man
I will forget her.
Jaff. Would I were in my grave!
Priu. And she too with thee;
For, living here, you're but my curst remembrancers
I once was happy.
Jaff. You use me thus, because you know my soul
Is fond of Belvidera: you perceive
My life feeds on her, therefore thus you treat me.
Oh! could my soul ever have known satiety,
Were I that thief, the doer of such wrongs
As you upbraid me with, what hinders me,
But I might send her back to you with contumely,
And court my fortune where she would be kinder?
Priu. You dare not do't.
Jaff. Indeed, my lord, I dare not.
My heart, that awes me, is too much my master:
Three years are past since first our vows were plighted,
During which time, the world must bear me witness,
I've treated Belvidera like your daughter,
The daughter of a senator of Venice:
Distinction, place, attendance, and observance,
Due to her birth, she always has commanded;
Out of my little fortune I have done this,
Because (though hopeless e'er to win your nature)
The world might see I loved her for herself,
Not as the heiress of the great Priuli—
Priu. No more!
Jaff. Yes, all! and then adieu for ever.
There's not a wretch that lives on common charity
But's happier than me: for I have known
The luscious sweets of plenty; every night
Have slept with soft content about my head,
And never waked but to a joyful morning;
Yet now must fall, like a full ear of corn,
Whose blossom 'scaped, yet's withered in the ripening.
Priu. Home, and be humble, study to retrench;
Discharge the lazy vermin of thy hall,
Those pageants of thy folly;
Reduce the glittering trappings of thy wife
To humble weeds, fit for thy little state;
Then to some suburb-cottage both retire;
Drudge, to feed loathsome life; get brats, and starve.
Home, home, I say. [Exit.
Jaff. Yes, if my heart would let me—
This proud, this swelling heart: home I would go,
But that my doors are hateful to mine eyes,
Filled and dammed up with gaping creditors,
Watchful as fowlers when their game will spring;
I have now not fifty ducats in the world,
Yet still I am in love, and pleased with ruin.
O, Belvidera! oh! she is my wife—
And we will bear our wayward fate together,
But ne'er know comfort more.

Enter PIERRE.

Pier. My friend, good-morrow!
How fares the honest partner of my heart?
What, melancholy! not a word to spare me?
Jaff. I'm thinking, Pierre, how that damned starving quality
Called honesty got footing in the world.
Pier. Why, powerful villany first set it up,
For its own ease and safety: honest men
Are the soft easy cushions on which knaves
Repose and fatten. Were all mankind villains,
They'd starve each other; lawyers would want practice,
Cut-throats rewards; each man would kill his brother
Himself, none would be paid or hanged for murder.
Honesty was a cheat invented first
To bind the hands of bold deserving rogues,
That fools and cowards might sit safe in power,
And lord it uncontrolled above their betters.
Jaff. Then honesty's but a notion?
Pier. Nothing else:
Like wit, much talked of, not to be defined,
He that pretends to most, too, has least share in't;
'Tis a ragged virtue: honesty! no more on't.
Jaff. Sure thou art honest?
Pier. So indeed men think me;
But they're mistaken, Jaffier: I am a rogue
As well as they;
A fine, gay, bold-faced villain, as thou seest me:
'Tis true, I pay my debts when they're contracted;
I steal from no man; would not cut a throat
To gain admission to a great man's purse,
Or a whore's bed; I'd not betray my friend,
To get his place or fortune: I scorn to flatter
A blown-up fool above, or crush the wretch
Beneath me.—
Yet, Jaffier, for all this, I am a villain.
Jaff. A villain!
Pier. Yes, a most notorious villain:
To see the sufferings of my fellow-creatures,
And own myself a man; to see our senators
Cheat the deluded people with a show
Of liberty, which yet they ne'er must taste of.
They say, by them our hands are free from fetters,
Yet whom they please they lay in basest bonds;
Bring whom they please to infamy and sorrow;
Drive us like wrecks down the rough tide of power,
Whilst no hold's left to save us from destruction:
All that bear this are villains, and I one,
Not to rouse up at the great call of nature,
And check the growth of these domestic spoilers,
That make us slaves, and tell us 'tis our charter.
Jaff. O Aquilina! friend, to lose such beauty,
The dearest purchase of thy noble labours!
She was thy right by conquest, as by love.
Pier. O Jaffier! I'd so fixed my heart upon her,
That wheresoe'er I framed a scheme of life
For time to come, she was my only joy,
With which I wished to sweeten future cares;
I fancied pleasures, none but one that loves
And dotes as I did can imagine like them:
When in the extremity of all these hopes,
In the most charming hour of expectation,
Then when our eager wishes soar the highest,
Ready to stoop and grasp the lovely game,
A haggard owl, a worthless kite of prey,
With his foul wings sailed in, and spoiled my quarry.
Jaff. I know the wretch, and scorn him as thou hat'st him.
Pier. Curse on the common good that's so protected,
Where every slave that heaps up wealth enough.
To do much wrong becomes a lord of right!
I, who believed no ill could e'er come near me,
Found in the embraces of my Aquilina
A wretched, old, but itching senator;
A wealthy fool, that had bought out my title;
A rogue, that uses beauty like a lamb-skin,
Barely to keep him warm: that filthy cuckoo, too,
Was in my absence crept into my nest,
And spoiling all my brood of noble pleasure.
Jaff. Didst thou not chase him thence?
Pier. I did; and drove
The rank, old, bearded Hirco stinking home:
The matter was complained of in the senate,
I summoned to appear, and censured basely,
For violating something they call privilege.
This was the recompense of all my service;
Would I'd been rather beaten by a coward!
A soldier's mistress, Jaffier, 's his religion;
When that's profaned, all other ties are broken;
That even dissolves all former bonds of service,
And from that hour I think myself as free
To be the foe as e'er the friend of Venice—
Nay, dear Revenge! whene'er thou call'st I'm ready.
Jaff. I think no safety can be here for virtue,
And grieve, my friend, as much as thou, to live
In such a wretched state as this of Venice,
Where all agree to spoil the public good,
And villains fatten with the brave man's labours.
Pier. We've neither safety, unity, nor peace,
For the foundation's lost of common good;
Justice is lame as well as blind amongst us;
The laws (corrupted to their ends that make them)
Serve but for instruments of some new tyranny,
That every day starts up to enslave us deeper:
Now could this glorious cause but find out friends
To do it right—O Jaffier! then mightst thou
Not wear these seals of woe upon thy face:
The proud Priuli should be taught humanity,
And learn to value such a son as thou art.
I dare not speak; but my heart bleeds this moment!
Jaff. Curst be the cause, though I thy friend be part on't!
Let me partake the troubles of thy bosom,
For I am used to misery, and perhaps
May find a way to sweeten it to thy spirit.
Pier. Too soon it will reach thy knowledge—
Jaff. Then from thee
Let it proceed. There's virtue in thy friendship
Would make the saddest tale of sorrow pleasing,
Strengthen my constancy, and welcome ruin.
Pier. Then thou art ruined!
Jaff. That I long since knew;
I and ill fortune have been long acquainted.
Pier. I passed this very moment by thy doors,
And found them guarded by a troop of villains;
The sons of public rapine were destroying:
They told me, by the sentence of the law
They had commission to seize all thy fortune:
Nay, more; Priuli's cruel hand hath signed it.
Here stood a ruffian, with a horrid face,
Lording it o'er a pile of massy plate,
Tumbled into a heap for public sale:
There was another making villanous jestsAt thy undoing; he had ta'en
possession
Of all thy ancient most domestic ornaments,
Rich hangings, intermixed and wrought with gold;
The very bed which on thy wedding-night
Received thee to the arms of Belvidera,
The scene of all thy joys, was violated
By the coarse hands of filthy dungeon-villains,
And thrown amongst the common lumber.
Jaff. Now, thank Heaven—
Pier. Thank Heaven! for what?
Jaff. That I'm not worth a ducat.
Pier. Curse thy dull stars, and the worse fate of Venice,
Where brothers, friends, and fathers, all are false;
Where there's no trust, no truth; where innocence
Stoops under vile oppression, and vice lords it.
Hadst thou but seen, as I did, how at last
Thy beauteous Belvidera, like a wretch
That's doomed to banishment, came weeping forth,
Shining through tears, like April-suns in showers,
That's labour to o'ercome the cloud that loads 'em,
Whilst two young virgins, on whose arms she leaned.
Kindly looked up, and at her grief grew sad,
As if they catched the sorrows that fell from her!
Even the lewd rabble that were gathered round
To see the sight, stood mute when they beheld her;
Governed their roaring throats, and grumbled pity:
I could have hugged the greasy rogues; they pleased me.
Jaff. I thank thee for this story, from my soul,
Since now I know the worst that can befall me.
Ah, Pierre! I have a heart that could have borne
The roughest wrong my fortune could have done me;
But when I think what Belvidera feels,
The bitterness her tender spirit tastes of,
I own myself a coward: bear my weakness,
If, throwing thus my arms about thy neck,
I play the boy, and blubber in thy bosom.
Oh, I shall drown thee with my sorrows!
Pier. Burn!
First burn, and level Venice to thy ruin.
What, starve like beggars' brats in frosty weather,
Under a hedge, and whine ourselves to death!
Thou, or thy cause, shall never want assistance,
Whilst I have blood or fortune fit to serve thee.
Command my heart: thou 'rt every way its master.
Jaff. No; there's a secret pride in bravely dying.
Pier. Rats die in holes and corners, dogs run mad;
Man knows a braver remedy for sorrow:
Revenge! the attribute of gods; they stamped it
With their great image on our natures. Die!
Consider well the cause that calls upon thee,
And, if thou'rt base enough, die then. Remember
Thy Belvidera suffers; Belvidera!
Die!—damn first!—what! be decently interred
In a church-yard, and mingle thy brave dust
With stinking rogues that rot in dirty winding-sheets,
Surfeit-slain fools, the common dung of the soil?
Jaff. Oh!
Pier. Well said, out with it, swear a little—
Jaff. Swear!
By sea and air, by earth, by Heaven and hell,
I will revenge my Belvidera's tears!
Hark thee, my friend: Priuli—is—a senator!
Pier. A dog!
Jaff. Agreed.
Pier. Shoot him.
Jaff. With all my heart.
No more. Where shall we meet at night?
Pier. I'll tell thee;
On the Rialto every night at twelve
I take my evening's walk of meditation:
There we will meet, and talk of precious mischief.
Jaff. Farewell.
Pier. At twelve.
Jaff. At any hour: my plagues
Will keep me waking.— [Exit. PIERRE.
Tell me why, good Heaven,
Thou madest me what I am, with all the spirit,
Aspiring thoughts, and elegant desires,
That fill the happiest man? Ah! rather why
Didst thou not form me sordid as my fate,
Base-minded, dull, and fit to carry burdens?
Why have I sense to know the curse that's on me?
Is this just dealing, Nature?—Belvidera!

Enter BELVIDERA, attended.

Poor Belvidera!
Belv. Lead me, lead me, my virgins,
To that kind voice. My lord, my love, my refuge!
Happy my eyes, when they behold thy face:
My heavy heart will leave its doleful beating
At sight of thee, and bound with sprightful joys.,
Oh, smile, as when our loves were in their spring,
And cheer my fainting soul.
Jaff. As when our loves.
Were in their spring? has then my fortune changed?
Art thou not Belvidera, still the same,
Kind, good, and tender, as my arms first found thee?
If thou art altered, where shall I have harbour?
Where ease my loaded heart? oh! where complain?
Belv. Does this appear like change, or love decaying
When thus I throw myself into thy bosom,
With all the resolution of strong truth?
Beats not my heart, as 'twould alarum thine
To a new charge of bliss? I joy more in thee
Than did thy mother when she hugged thee first,
And blessed the gods for all her travail past.
Jaff. Can there in woman be such glorious faith?
Sure all ill stories of thy sex are false.
O woman! lovely woman! Nature made thee
To temper man: we had been brutes without you;
Angels are painted fair, to look like you:
There's in you all that we believe of Heaven,
Amazing brightness, purity, and truth,
Eternal joy, and everlasting love.
Belv. If love be treasure, we'll be wondrous rich:
I have so much, my heart will surely break with't;
Vows can't express it: when I would declare
How great's my joy, I'm dumb with the big thought;
I swell, and sigh, and labour with my longing.
Oh, lead me to some desert wide and wild,
Barren as our misfortunes, where my soul
May have its vent; where I may tell aloud
To the high Heavens, and every listening planet,
With what a boundless stock my bosom's fraught;
Where I may throw my eager arms about thee,
Give loose to love, with kisses kindling joy,
And let off all the fire that's in my heart!
Jaff. O Belvidera! doubly I'm a beggar,—
Undone by fortune, and in debt to thee;
Want! worldly want! that hungry meagre fiend
Is at my heels, and chases me in view.
Canst thou bear cold and hunger? Can these limbs,
Framed for the tender offices of love,
Endure the bitter gripes of smarting poverty?
When banished by our miseries abroad,
(As suddenly we shall be) to seek out,
In some far climate where our names are strangers,
For charitable succour; wilt thou then,
When in a bed of straw we shrink together,
And the bleak winds shall whistle round our heads;
Wilt thou then talk thus to me? Wilt thou then
Hush my cares thus, and shelter me with love?
Belv. Oh, I will love thee, even in madness love thee:
Though my distracted senses should forsake me,
I'd find some intervals, when my poor heart
Should 'suage itself, and be let loose to thine.
Though the bare earth be all our resting-place,
Its roots our food, some clift our habitation,
I'll make this arm a pillow for thy head;
And as thou sighing liest, and swelled with sorrow,
Creep to thy bosom, pour the balm of love
Into thy soul, and kiss thee to thy rest;
Then praise our God, and watch thee till the morning.
Jaff. Hear this, you Heavens, and wonder how you made her!
Reign, reign, ye monarchs that divide the world;
Busy rebellion ne'er will let you know
Tranquillity and happiness like mine:
Like gaudy ships, the obsequious billows fall
And rise again, to lift you in your pride;
They wait but for a storm, and then devour you:
I, in my private bark, already wrecked,
Like a poor merchant driven on unknown land,
That had by chance packed up his choicest treasure
In one dear casket, and saved only that,
Since I must wander further on the shore,
Thus hug my little, but my precious store;
Resolved to scorn, and trust my fate no more.
[Exeunt.

ACT THE SECOND.

SCENE I.—Before the House of AQUILINA.

Enter PIERRE and AQUILINA.

AQUIL. By all thy wrongs, thou'rt dearer to my arms
Than all the wealth of Venice: pr'ythee stay,
And let us love to-night.
Pier. No: there's fool,
There's fool about thee: when a woman sells
Her flesh to fools, her beauty's lost to me;
The leave a taint, a sully where they've passed;
There's such a baneful quality about them,
Even spoils complexions with their nauseousness;
They infect all they touch; I cannot think
Of tasting any thing a fool has palled.
Aquil. I loathe and scorn that fool thou mean'st, as much
Or more than thou canst; but the beast has gold,
That makes him necessary; power too,
To qualify me character, and poise me
Equal with peevish virtue, that beholds
My liberty with envy: in their hearts
They're loose as I am; but an ugly power
Sits in their faces, and frights pleasures from them.
Pier. Much good may't do you, madam, with your senator!
Aquil. My senator! why, canst thou think that wretch
E'er filled thy Aquilina's arms with pleasure?
Think'st thou, because I sometimes give him leave
To foil himself at what he is unfit for;
Because I force myself to endure and suffer him,
Think'st thou I love him? No, by all the joys
Thou ever gav'st me, his presence is my penance:
The worst thing an old man can be is a lover,
A mere memento mori to poor woman.
I never lay by his decrepit side,
But all that night I pondered on my grave.
Pier. Would he were well sent thither!
Aquil. That's my wish too,
For then, my Pierre, I might have cause, with pleasure,
To play the hypocrite. Oh! how I could weep
Over the dying dotard, and kiss him too,
In hopes to smother him quite; then, when the time
Was come to pay my sorrows at his funeral,
(For he has already made me heir to treasures
Would make me out-act a real widow's whining,)
How could I frame my face to fit my mourning!
With wringing hands attend him to his grave;
Fall swooning on his hearse; take mad possession
Even of the dismal vault where he lay buried;
There, like the Ephesian matron dwell, till thou,
My lovely soldier, com'st to my deliverance:
Then throwing up my veil, with open arms
And laughing eyes, run to new dawning joy.
Pier. No more! I've friends to meet me here tonight,
And must be private. As you prize my friendship,
Keep up your coxcomb: let him not pry nor listen,
Nor frisk about the house as I have seen him,
Like a tame mumping squirrel with a bell on;
Curs will be abroad to bite him, if you do.
Aquil. What friends to meet? mayn't I be of your council?
Pier. How! a woman ask questions out of bed?
Go to your senator, ask him what passes
Amongst his brethren; he'll hide nothing from you:
But pump not me for politics. No more!
Give order, that whoever in my name
Comes here, receive admittance: so good-night.
Aquil. Must we ne'er meet again? embrace no more?
Is love so soon and utterly forgotten?
Pier. As you henceforward treat your fool, I'll think on't. [Exit.
Aquil. Cursed be all fools, and doubly cursed myself,
The worst of fools! I die if he forsakes me;
And how to keep him, Heaven or hell instruct me.
[Exit.

SCENE II.—The Rialto.

Enter JAFFIER.

Jaff. I'm here; and thus, the shades of night around me,
I look as if all hell were in my heart,
And I in hell. Nay, surely, 'tis so with me;
For every step I tread, methinks some fiend
Knocks at my breast, and bids it not be quiet.
I've heard how desperate wretches, like myself,
Have wandered out at this dead time of night
To meet the foe of mankind in his walk:
Sure I'm so cursed that, though of Heaven forsaken,
No minister of darkness cares to tempt me.
Hell! hell! why sleep'st thou?

Enter PIERRE.

Pier. Sure I've stayed too long:
The clock has struck, and I may lose my proselyte.
Speak, who goes there?
Jaff. A dog, that comes to howl
At yonder moon: what's he that asks the question?
Pier. A friend to dogs, for they are honest creatures,
And ne'er betray their masters; never fawn
On any that they love not. Well met, friend:
Jaffier?
Jaff. The same. O Pierre! thou'rt come in season;
I was just going to pray.
Pier. Ah, that's mechanic;
Priests make a trade on't, and yet starve by't too:
No praying; it spoils business, and time's precious.
Where's Belvidera?
Jaff. For a day or two
I've lodged her privately, till I see farther
What fortune will do with me. Pr'ythee, friend,
If thou wouldst have me fit to hear good counsel,
Speak not of Belvidera—
Pier. Speak not of her?
Jaff. Oh, no!
Pier. Nor name her? May be I wish her well.
Jaff. Whom well?
Pier. Thy wife, the lovely Belvidera;
I hope a man may wish his friend's wife well,
And no harm done!
Jaff. You're merry, Pierre!
Pier. I am so:
Thou shalt smile too, and Belvidera smile;
We'll all rejoice. Here's something to buy pins;
[Gives him a purse.
Marriage is chargeable.
Jaff. I but half wished
To see the devil, and he's here already.
Well!—
What must this buy, rebellion, murder, treason?
Tell me which way I must be damned for this.
Pier. When last we parted, we'd no qualms like these,
But entertained each other's thoughts like men
Whose souls were well acquainted. Is the world
Reformed since our last meeting? What new miracles
Have happened? Has Priuli's heart relented?
Can be honest?
Jaff. Kind Heaven! let heavy curses
Gall his old age; cramps, aches, rack his bones;
And bitterest disquiet wring his heart;
Oh, let him live till life become his burden!
Let him groan under it long, linger an age
In the worst agonies and pangs of death,
And find its ease but late!
Pier. Nay, couldst thou not
As well, my friend, have stretched the curse to all
The senate round, as to one single villain?
Jaff. But curses stick not: could I kill with cursing,
By Heaven, I know not thirty heads in Venice
Should not be blasted; senators should rot
Like dogs on dunghills; but their wives and daughters
Die of their own diseases. Oh for a curse
To kill with!
Pier. Daggers—daggers are much better!
Jaff. Ha!
Pier. Daggers.
Jaff. But where are they?
Pier. Oh, a thousand
May be disposed in honest hands in Venice.
Jaff. Thou talk'st in clouds.
Pier. But yet a heart half wronged
As thine has been would find the meaning, Jaffier.
Jaff. A thousand daggers, all in honest hands!
And have not I a friend will stick one here?
Pier. Yes, if I thought thou wert not to be cherished
To a nobler purpose, I would be that friend.
But thou hast better friends; friends whom thy wrongs
Have made thy friends; friends worthy to be called so.
I'll trust thee with a secret: there are spirits
This hour at work. But as thou art a man
Whom I have picked and chosen from the world,
Swear that thou wilt be true to what I utter;
And when I've told thee that which only gods,
And men like gods, are privy to, then swear
No chance or change shall wrest it from thy bosom.
Jaff. When thou wouldst bind me, is there need of oaths?—
Green-sickness girls lose maidenheads with such counters—
For thou'rt so near my heart that thou mayst see
Its bottom, sound its strength and firmness to thee:
Is coward, fool, or villain, in my face?
If I seem none of these, I dare believe
Thou wouldst not use me in a little cause,
For I am fit for honour's toughest task,
Nor ever yet found fooling was my province;
And for a villanous inglorious enterprise,
I know thy heart so well, I dare lay mine
Before thee: set it to what point thou wilt.
Pier. Nay, 'tis a cause thou wilt be fond of, Jaffier:
For it is founded on the noblest basis,—
Our liberties, our natural inheritance;
There's no religion, no hypocrisy in't;
We'll do the business, and ne'er fast and pray for it:
Openly act a deed the world shall gaze
With wonder at, and envy when 'tis done.
Jaff. For liberty?
Pier. For liberty, my friend!
Thou shalt be freed from base Priuli's tyranny,
And thy sequestered fortunes healed again;
I shall be freed from those opprobrious wrongs
That press me now, and bend my spirit downward;All Venice free, and every
growing merit
Succeed to its just right; fools shall be pulled
From wisdom's seat,—those baleful unclean birds,
Those lazy owls, who, perched near fortune's top,
Sit only watchful with their heavy wings
To cuff down new-fledged virtues, that would rise
To nobler heights, and make the grove harmonious.
Jaff. What can I do?
Pier. Canst thou not kill a senator?
Jaff. Were there one wise or honest, I could kill him
For herding with that nest of fools and knaves.
By all my wrongs, thou talk'st as if revenge
Were to be had, and the brave story warms me.
Pier. Swear then!
Jaff. I do, by all those glittering stars,
And you great ruling planet of the night!
By all good powers above, and ill below!
By love and friendship, dearer than my life!
No power or death shall make me false to thee.
Pier. Here we embrace, and I'll unlock my heart.
A council's held hard by, where the destruction
Of this great empire's hatching: there I'll lead thee.
But be a man, for thou'rt to mix with men
Fit to disturb the peace of all the world,
And rule it when it's wildest—
Jaff. I give thee thanks
For this kind warning: yes, I will be a man,
And charge thee, Pierre, whene'er thou seest my fears
Betray me less, to rip this heart of mine
Out of my breast, and show it for a coward's.
Come, let's be gone, for from this hour I chase
All little thoughts, all tender human follies
Out of my bosom: vengeance shall have room—
Revenge!
Pier. And liberty!
Jaff. Revenge! Revenge! [Exeunt.

SCENE III.—A Room in AQUILINA'S House.

Enter RENAULT.

Ren. Why was my choice ambition, the worst ground
A wretch can build on? 'Tis indeed at distance
A goodly prospect, tempting to the view;
The height delights us, and the mountain-top
Looks beautiful, because 'tis nigh to Heaven;
But we ne'er think how sandy's the foundation,
What storm will batter, and what tempest shake us.
Who's there?

Enter SPINOSA.

Spin. Renault, good-morrow! for by this time
I think the scale of night has turned the balance,
And weights up morning: has the clock struck twelve?
Ren. Yes; clocks will go as they are set; but man,
Irregular man's ne'er constant, never certain.
I've spent at least three precious hours of darkness
In waiting dull attendance; 'tis the curse
Of diligent virtue to be mixed, like mine,
With giddy tempers, souls but half resolved.
Spin. Hell seize that soul amongst us it can frighten!
Ren. What's then the cause that I am here alone?
Why are we not together?

Enter ELIOT.

O sir, welcome!
You are an Englishman: when treason's hatching,
One might have thought you'd not have been behind-hand.
In what whore's lap have you been lolling?
Give but an Englishman his whore and ease,
Beef, and a sea-coal fire, he's yours for ever.
Eliot. Frenchman, you are saucy.
Ren. How!

Enter BEDAMAR the Ambassador, THEODORE, BRAINVILLE, DURAND, BRABE,
REVILLIDO, MEZZANA, TERNON, and RETROSI, Conspirators.

Bed. At difference? fie!
Is this a time for quarrels? Thieves and rogues
Fall out and brawl: should men of your high calling,
Men separated by the choice of Providence
From the gross heap of mankind, and set here
In this assembly, as in one great jewel,
To adorn the bravest purpose it e'er smiled on;—
Should you, like boys, wrangle for trifles?
Ren. Boys!
Bed. Renault, thy hand!
Ren. I thought I'd given my heart
Long since to every man that mingles here;
But grieve to find it trusted with such tempers
That can't forgive my forward age its weakness.
Bed. Eliot, thou once hadst virtue; I have seen
Thy stubborn temper bend with godlike goodness,
Not half thus courted: 'tis thy nation's glory,
To hug the foe that offers brave alliance.
Once more embrace, my friends—we'll all embrace!
United thus, we are the mighty engine
Must twist this rooted empire from its basis.
Totters it not already?
Eliot. Would 'twere tumbling!
Bed. Nay, it shall down: this night we seal its ruin.

Enter PIERRE.

O Pierre! thou art welcome!
Come to my breast, for by its hopes thou look'st
Lovelily dreadful, and the fate of Venice
Seems on thy sword already. O, my Mars!
The poets that first feigned a god of war,
Sure prophesied of thee.
Pier. Friends! was not Brutus—
I mean that Brutus who in open Senate
Stabbed the first Cæsar that usurped the world—
A gallant man!
Ren. Yes, and Catiline too;
Though story wrong his fame; for he conspired
To prop the reeling glory of his country:
His cause was good.
Bed. And ours as much above it
As, Renault, thou'rt superior to Cethegus,
Or Pierre to Cassius.
Pier. Then to what we aim at,
When do we start? or must we talk for ever?
Bed. No, Pierre, the deed's near birth: fate seems to have set
The business up, and given it to our care:
I hope there's not a heart nor hand amongst us
But is firm and ready.
All. All! We'll die with Bedamar.
Bed. Oh, men!
Matchless, as will your glory be hereafter.
The game is for a matchless prize, if won;
If lost, disgraceful ruin.
Ren. What can lose it?
The public stock's a beggar; one Venetian
Trusts not another. Look into their stores
Of general safety; empty magazines,
A tattered fleet, a murmuring unpaid army,
Bankrupt nobility, a harassed commonalty,
A factious, giddy, and divided Senate,
Is all the strength of Venice. Let's destroy it;
Let's fill their magazines with arms to awe them,
Man out their fleet, and make their trade maintain it;
Let loose the murmuring army on their masters,
To pay themselves with plunder; lop their nobles
To the base roots, whence most of them first sprung;
Enslave the rout, whom smarting will make humble;
Turn out their droning Senate, and possess
That seat of empire which our souls were framed for.
Pier. Ten thousand men are armèd at your nod,
Commanded all by leaders fit to guide
A battle for the freedom of the world;
This wretched state has starved them in its service,
And, by your bounty quickened, they're resolved
To serve your glory, and revenge their own:
They've all their different quarters in this city,
Watch for the alarm, and grumble 'tis so tardy.
Bed. I doubt not, friend, but thy unwearied diligence
Has still kept waking, and it shall have ease:
After this night, it is resolved we meet
No more, till Venice own us for her lords.
Pier. How lovelily the Adriatic whore,
Dressed in her flames, will shine!—devouring flames,
Such as shall burn her to the watery bottom,
And hiss in her foundation!
Bed. Now if any
'Mongst us that owns this glorious cause
Have friends or interest he'd wish to save,
Let it be told. The general doom is sealed;
But I'd forego the hopes of a world's empire,
Rather than wound the bowels of my friend.
Pier. I must confess, you there have touched my weakness:
I have a friend; hear it, such a friend!
My heart was ne'er shut to him. Nay, I'll tell you:
He knows the very business of this hour;
But he rejoices in the cause, and loves it;
We've changed a vow to live and die together,
And he's at hand to ratify it here.
Ren. How! all betrayed?
Pier. No! I've dealt nobly with you;
I've brought my all into the public stock;
I'd but one friend, and him I'll share amongst you!
Receive and cherish him: or if, when seen
And searched, you find him worthless, as my tongue
Has lodged this secret in his faithful breast,
To ease your fears I wear a dagger here
Shall rip it out again, and give you rest.—
Come forth, thou only good I e'er could boast of.

Enter JAFFIER with a dagger.

Bed. His presence bears the show of manly virtue.
Jaff. I know you'll wonder all, that thus uncalled
I dare approach this place of fatal counsels;
But I'm amongst you, and, by Heaven, it glads me
To see so many virtues thus united,
To restore justice, and dethrone oppression.
Command this sword, if you would have it quiet,
Into this breast; but, if you think it worthy
To cut the throats of reverend rogues in robes,
Send me into the cursed assembled Senate;
It shrinks not, though I meet a father there.
Would you behold this city flaming? here's
A hand shall bear a lighted torch at noon
To the arsenal, and set its gates on fire.
Ren. You talk this well, sir.
Jaff. Nay—by Heaven, I'll do this!
Come, come, I read distrust in all your faces;
You fear me a villain, and indeed 'tis odd
To hear a stranger talk thus at first meeting
Of matters that have been so well debated;
But I come ripe with wrongs, as you with counsels;
I hate this Senate, am a foe to Venice;
A friend to none but men resolved, like me,
To push on mischief. Oh, did you but know me,
I need not talk thus!
Bed. Pierre, I must embrace him.
My heart beats to this man as if it knew him.
Ren. I never loved these huggers.
Jaff. Still I see
The cause delights me not. Your friends survey me
As I were dangerous; but I come armed
Against all doubts, and to your trust will give
A pledge, worth more than all the world can pay for.
My Belvidera! Ho! my Belvidera!
Bed. What wonder next?
Jaff. Let me entreat you,
As I have henceforth hopes to call ye friends,
That all but the ambassador, and this
Grave guide of counsels, with my friend that owns me,
Withdraw awhile, to spare a woman's blushes.
[Exeunt all but BEDAMAR, RENAULT, JAFFIER, and PIERRE.
Bed. Pierre, whither will this ceremony lead us?
Jaff. My Belvidera! Belvidera!

Enter BELVIDERA.

Belv. Who,
Who calls so loud at this late peaceful hour?
That voice was wont to come in gentle whispers,
And fill my ears with the soft breath of love.
Thou hourly image of my thoughts, where art thou?
Jaff. Indeed 'tis late.
Belv. Oh! I have slept, and dreamt,
And dreamt again. Where hast thou been, thou loiterer?
Though my eyes closed, my arms have still been opened,
Stretched every way betwixt my broken slumbers,
To search if thou wert come to crown my rest;
There's no repose without thee. Oh, the day
Too soon will break, and wake us to our sorrow;
Come, come to bed, and bid thy cares good-night.
Jaff. O Belvidera! we must change the scene
In which the past delights of life were tasted:
The poor sleep little; we must learn to watch
Our labours late, and early every morning,
'Midst winter frosts, thin clad and fed with sparing,
Rise to our toils, and drudge away the day.
Belv. Alas! where am I? whither is't you lead me?
Methinks I read distraction in your face,
Something less gentle than the fate you tell me.
You shake and tremble too; your blood runs cold!
Heavens guard my love, and bless his heart with patience!
Jaff. That I have patience, let our fate bear witness,
Who has ordained it so, that thou and I—
Thou the divinest good man e'er possessed,
And I the wretched'st of the race of man—This very hour, without one
tear,
must part.
Belv. Part! must we part? Oh! am I then forsaken?
Will my love cast me off? have my misfortunes
Offended him so highly that he'll leave me?
Why drag you from me? whither are you going?
My dear! my life! my love!
Jaff. Oh, friends!
Belv. Speak to me.
Jaff. Take her from my heart;
She'll gain such hold else, I shall ne'er get loose.
I charge thee take her; but with tenderest care
Relieve her troubles, and assuage her sorrows.
Ren. Rise, madam, and command amongst your servants.
Jaff. To you, sirs, and your honours, I bequeath her,
And with her this: when I prove unworthy—
[Gives a dagger.
You know the rest—then strike it to her heart;
And tell her, he who three whole happy years
Lay in her arms, and each kind night repeated
The passionate vows of still-increasing love,
Sent that reward for all her truth and sufferings.
Belv. Nay, take my life, since he has sold it cheaply;
Or send me to some distant clime your slave,
But let it be far off, lest my complainings
Should reach his guilty ears, and shake his peace.
Jaff. No, Belvidera, I've contrived thy honour:
Trust to my faith, and be but fortune kind
To me as I preserve that faith unbroken!
When next we meet, I'll lift thee to a height
Shall gather all the gazing world about thee,
To wonder what strange virtue placed thee there.
But if we ne'er meet more—
Belv. O thou unkind one!
Never meet more! have I deserved this from you?
Look on me, tell me; speak, thou dear deceiver;
Why am I separated from thy love?
If I am false, accuse me; but if true,
Don't, pr'ythee don't in poverty forsake me;
But pity the sad heart that's torn with parting.
Yet hear me! yet recall me—
[Exeunt RENAULT, BEDAMAR, and BELVIDERA.
Jaff. O my eyes,
Look not that way, but turn yourselves a while
Into my heart, and be weaned altogether!
My friend, where art thou?
Pier. Here, my honour's brother.
Jaff. Is Belvidera gone?
Pier. Renault has led her
Back to her own apartment: but, by Heaven!
Thou must not see her more till our work's over.
Jaff. No?
Pier. Not for your life.
Jaff. O Pierre! wert thou but she,
How I could pull thee down into my heart,
Gaze on thee till my eye-strings cracked with love,
Till all my sinews, with its fire extended,
Fixed me upon the rack of ardent longing!
Then swelling, sighing, raging to be blest,
Come like a panting turtle to thy breast;
On thy soft bosom hovering, bill and play,
Confess the cause why last I fled away,
Own 'twas a fault, but swear to give it o'er,
And never follow false ambition more. [Exeunt.

ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I.—A Room in AQUILINA'S House.

Enter AQUILINA and her Maid.

AQUIL. Tell him I am gone to bed: tell him I am not at home: tell him I've
better company with me, or anything; tell him, in short, I will not see him,
the
eternal troublesome vexatious fool; he's worse company than an ignorant
physician. I'll not be disturbed at these unseasonable hours.
Maid. But, madam, he's here already, just entered the doors.
Aquil. Turn him out again, you unnecessary, useless, giddy-brained
ass!
If he will not be gone, set the house a-fire, and burn us both: I had rather
meet a toad in my dish than that old hideous animal in my chamber to-night.

Enter ANTONIO.

Ant. Nacky, Nacky, Nacky—how dost do, Nacky? Hurry durry! I am
come, little Nacky; past eleven o'clock, a late hour; time in all
conscience to
go to bed, Nacky—Nacky did I say? Ay, Nacky; Aquilina, lina, lina, quilina
,
quilina, quilina, Aquilina, Naquilina, Naquilina, Acky, Acky, Nacky, Nacky,
queen Nacky—come, let's to bed—you fubbs, you pug you—you
little
puss—purree tuzzy—I am a senator.
Aquil. You are a fool, I am sure.
Ant. May be so too, sweetheart. Never the worse senator for all that.
Come, Nacky, Nacky, let's have a game at romp, Nacky.
Aquil. You would do well, signior, to be troublesome here no longer,
but leave me to myself; be sober, and go home, sir. Ant. Home,
Madonna?
Aquil. Ay, home, sir. Who am I?
Ant. Madonna, as I take it, you are my—you are—thou art my
little Nicky Nacky—that's all!
Aquil. I find you are resolved to be troublesome; and so, to
make short
of the matter in few words, I hate you, detest you, loathe you, I am weary of
you, sick of you. Hang you, you are an old, silly, impertinent, impotent,
solicitous coxcomb; crazy in your head and lazy in your body, love to be
meddling with every thing; and if you had not money, you are good for nothing.
Ant. Good for nothing! Hurry durry, I'll try that presently.
Sixty-one
years old, and good for nothing! that's brave. [To the Maid.] Come, come,
come, Mistress Fiddle-faddle, turn you out for a season; go, turn
out, I say; it
is our will and pleasure to be private some moments—out, out when you are
bid too—[Puts her out and locks the door.] Good for nothing, you say?
Aquil. Why, what are you good for?
Ant. In the first place, madam, I am old, and consequently very wise,
very wise, Madonna, d'ye mark that? in the second place, take notice, if you
please, that I am a senator, and when I think fit can make speeches, Madonna.
Hurry durry, I can make a speech in the Senate-house, now and then, would make
your hair stand on end, Madonna.
Aquil. What care I for your speeches in the Senate-house? If you
would
be silent here, I should thank you.
Ant. Why, I can make speeches to thee too, my lovely Madonna; for
example [Takes out a purse of gold, and at every pause shakes it]:—
My cruel fair one, since it is my fate
That you should with your servant angry prove,
Though late at night, I hope 'tis not too late
With this to gain reception for my love.

There's for thee, my little Nicky Nacky—take it; here, take it—I say
take it, or I'll throw it at your head—how now, rebel!
Aquil. Truly, my illustrious senator, I must confess your honour is
at
present most profoundly eloquent indeed.
Ant. Very well: come, now let's sit down and think upon't a
little—come sit, I say—sit down by me a little, my Nicky, Nacky,
hah—[Sits down] Hurry durry—good for nothing!
Aquil. No, sir; if you please, I can know my distance and stand.
Ant. Stand: how? Nacky up, and I down! Nay, then let me exclaim with
the poet:—

Show me a case more pitiful who can,
A standing woman, and a falling man.

Hurry durry—not sit down—see this, ye gods! You won't sit down?
Aquil. No, sir.
Ant. Then look you, now, suppose me a bull, a Basan-bull, the bull of
bulls, or any bull. Thus up I get, and with my brows thus bent—I broo, I
say, I broo, I broo, I broo. You won't sit down, will you? I broo_____
[Bellows like a bull, and drives her about.
Aquil. Well, sir; I must endure this. [She sits down.] Now your
honour has been a bull, pray what beast will your worship please to be next?
Ant. Now I'll be a senator again, and thy lover, little Nicky Nacky!
[He sits by her.] Ah, toad, toad, toad, toad! spit in my face a little,
Nacky—spit in my face, pr'ythee spit in my face, never so little: spit
but
a little bit—spit, spit, spit, spit, when you are bid, I say; do,
pr'ythee
spit—now, now, now spit. What, you won't spit, will you? then I'll be a
dog.
Aquil. A dog, my lord?
Ant. Ay, a dog—and I'll give thee this t'other purse to
let me be
a dog—and to use me like a dog a little. Hurry durry—I
will—here
'tis.
[Gives the purse.
Aquil. Well; with all my heart. But let me beseech your dogship to play
your tricks over as fast as you can, that you may come to stinking the sooner,
and be turned out of doors, as you deserve.
Ant. Ay, ay—no matter for that—[He gets under the
table]—that shan't move me—now, bough waugh waugh, bough waugh!
[Barks like a dog.
Aquil. Hold, hold, hold, sir, I beseech you; what is't you do? If curs
bite, they must be kicked, sir. Do you see? kicked thus.
Ant. Ay, with all my heart: do, kick, kick on; now I am under the
table, kick again—kick harder—harder yet. Bough waugh waugh, waugh,
bough—odd, I'll have a snap at they shins—bough waugh waugh, waugh,
bough—odd, she kicks bravely.
Aquil. Nay then, I'll go another way to work with you; and I think
here's an instrument fit for the purpose. [Fetches a whip and a bell.]
What,
bite your mistress, sirrah! out, out of doors, you dog, to kennel and be
hanged!
Bite your mistress by the legs, you rogue! [She whips him.
Ant. Nay, pr'ythee Nacky, now thou art too loving: hurry durry,
odd, I'll
be a dog no longer.
Aquil. Nay, none of your fawning and grinning: but begone, or here's
the discipline: what, bite your mistress by the legs, you mongrel? Out of
doors—hout, hout, to kennel, sirrah! go.
Ant. This is very barbarous usage, Nacky, very barbarous: look you, I
will not go—I will not stir from the door, that I resolve—hurry
durry,
what, shut me out? [She whips him out.
Aquil. Ay; and it you come here any more tonight, I'll have my footmen
lug you, you cur! What, bite your poor mistress Nacky, sirrah?

Enter Maid.

Maid. Heavens, madam! what's the matter?
[He howls at the door like a dog.
Aquil. Call my footmen hither presently.

Enter two Footmen.

Maid. They are here already, madam; the house is all alarmed with a
strange noise, that nobody knows what to make of.
Aquil. Go all of you and turn that troublesome beast in the next room
out of my house; if I ever see him within these walls again, without my leave
for his admittance, you sneaking rogues, I'll have you poisoned all, poisoned,
like rats; every corner of the house shall stink of one of you: go, and learn
hereafter to know my pleasure. [Exeunt Footmen and Maid.] So, now for
my
Pierre:
Thus when the godlike lover was displeased,
We sacrifice our fool, and he's appeased. [Exit.

SCENE II.—Another Room in the same.

Enter BELVIDERA.

Belv. I'm sacrificed! I'm sold! betrayed to shame!
Inevitable ruin has inclosed me!
No sooner was I to my bed repaired,
To weigh and (weeping) ponder my condition,
But the old hoary wretch, to whose false care
My peace and honour was entrusted came,
Like Tarquin, ghastly with infernal lust.
O thou Roman Lucrece!
Thou couldst find friends to vindicate thy wrong;
I never had but one, and he's proved false;
He that should guard my virtue, has betrayed it;
Left me! undone me! oh, that I could hate him!
Where shall I go? oh, whither, whither wander?

Enter JAFFIER.

Jaff. Can Belvidera want a resting-place,
When these poor arms are open to receive her?
Oh, 'tis in vain to struggle with desires
Strong as my love to thee; for every moment
I'm from they sight, the heart within my bosom
Moans like a tender infant in its cradle,
Whose nurse had left it: come, and with the songs
Of gentle love, persuade it to its peace.
Belv. I fear the stubborn wanderer will not own me;
'Tis grown a rebel to be ruled no longer,
Scorns the indulgent bosom that first lulled it;
And, like a disobedient child, disdains
The soft authority of Belvidera.
Jaff. There was a time—
Belv. Yes, yes, there was a time
When Belvidera's tears, her cries, and sorrows,
Were not despised; when if she chanced to sigh,
Or look but sad—there was indeed a time
When Jaffier would have ta'en here in his arms,
Eased her declining head upon his breast,
And never left her till he found the cause.
But let her now weep seas,
Cry till she rend the earth, sigh till she burst
Her heart asunder; still he bears it all,
Deaf as the wind, and as the rocks unshaken.
Jaff. Have I been deaf? am I that rock unmoved,
Against whose root tears beat, and sighs are sent
In vain? have I beheld thy sorrows calmly?
Witness against me, Heavens, have I done this?
Then bear me in a whirlwind back again,
And let that angry dear one ne'er forgive me!
Oh, thou too rashly censurest of my love!
Couldst thou but think how I have spent this night,
Dark and alone, no pillow to my head,
Rest in my eyes, nor quiet in my heart,
Thou wouldst not, Belvidera, sure thou wouldst not
Talk to me thus; but like a pitying angel,
Spreading thy wings, come settle on my breast,
And hatch warm comfort there, ere sorrows freeze it.
Belv. Why then, poor mourner, in what baleful corner
Hast thou been talking with that witch the Night?
On what cold stone hast thou been stretched along,
Gathering the grumbling winds about thy head,
To mix with theirs the accents of thy woes?
Oh, now I find the cause my love forsakes me!
I am no longer fit to bear a share
In his concernments: my weak female virtue
Must not be trusted; 'tis too frail and tender.
Jaff. O Portia! Portia! what a soul was thine!
Belv. That Portia was a woman; and when Brutus,
Big with the fate of Rome—Heaven guard thy safety!—
Concealed from her the labours of his mind,
She let him see her blood was great as his,
Flowed from a spring as noble, and a heart
Fit to partake his troubles as his love.
Fetch, fetch that dagger back, the dreadful dower
Thou gavest last night in parting with me; strike it
Here to my heart; and as the blood flows from it,
Judge if it run not pure as Cato's daughter's.
Jaff. Thou art too good, and I indeed unworthy.
Unworthy so much virtue: teach me how
I may deserve such matchless love as thine,
And see with what attention I'll obey thee.
Belv. Do not despise me: that's the all I ask.
Jaff. Despise thee! hear me—
Belv. Oh, thy charming tongue
Is but too well acquainted with my weakness;
Knows, let it name but love, my melting heart
Dissolves within my breast; till with closed eyes
I reel into thy arms, and all's forgotten.
Jaff. What shall I do?
Belv. Tell me—be just, and tell me,
Why dwells that busy cloud upon thy face?
Why am I made a stranger? why that sigh,
And I not know the cause? why when the world
Is wrapped in rest, why chooses then my love
To wander up and down in horrid darkness,
Loathing his bed, and these desiring arms?
Why are these eyes blood-shot with tedious watching?
Why starts he now, and looks as if he wished
His fate were finished? Tell me, ease my fear,
Lest, when we next time meet, I want the power
To search into the sickness of thy mind,
But talk as wildly then as thou look'st now.
Jaff. O Belvidera!
Belv. Why was I last night
Delivered to a villain?
Jaff. Ha, a villain!
Belv. Yes! to a villain! Why at such an hour
Meets that assembly, all made up of wretches
That look as hell had drawn them into league?
Why, I in this hand, and in that a dagger,
Was I delivered with such dreadful ceremonies?—
"To you, sirs, and your honour, I bequeath her,
And with her this: whene'er I prove unworthy—
You know the rest—then strike it to her heart!"
Oh! why's that "rest" concealed from me? Must I
Be made the hostage of a hellish trust?—
For such I know I am; that's all my value!
But by the love and loyalty I owe thee,
I'll free thee from the bondage of these slaves;
Straight to the Senate, tell them all I know,
All that I think, all that my fears inform me!
Jaff. Is this the Roman virtue? this the blood
That boasts its purity with Cato's daughter?
Would she have e'er betrayed her Brutus?
Belv. No;
For Brutus trusted her: wert thou so kind,
What would not Belvidera suffer for thee?
Jaff. I shall undo myself, and tell thee all.
Belv. Look not upon me as I am a woman,
But as a bone, thy wife, thy friend, who long
Has had admission to thy heart, and there
Studied the virtues of thy gallant nature:
Thy constancy, thy courage, and thy truth,
Have been my daily lesson; I have learnt them,
Am bold as thou, can suffer or despise
The worst of fates for thee; and with thee share them.
Jaff. Oh, you divinest powers! look down and hear
My prayers! instruct me to reward this virtue!
Yet think a little, ere thou tempt me further;
Think I've a tale to tell will shake thy nature,
Melt all this boasted constancy thou talk'st of,
Into vile tears and despicable sorrows:
Then if thou shouldst betray me!
Belv. Shall I swear?
Jaff. No; do not swear,—I would not violate
Thy tender nature with so rude a bond,—
But as thou hopest to see me live my days,
And love thee long, lock this within thy breast:—
I've bound myself by all the strictest sacraments,
Divine and human—
Belv. Speak!
Jaff. To kill thy father.
Belv. My father!
Jaff. Nay, the throats of the whole Senate
Shall bleed, my Belvidera: he amongst us
That spares his father, brother, or his friend,
Is damned. How rich and beauteous will the face
Of ruin look, when these wide streets run blood,
I and the glorious partners of my fortune
Shouting, and striding o'er the prostrate dead,
Still to new waste; whilst thou, far off in safety
Smiling, shall see the wonders of our daring;
And when night comes, with praise and love receive me!
Belv. Oh!
Jaff. Have a care, and shrink not, even in thought!
For if thou dost—
Belv. I know it, thou wilt kill me.
Do, strike thy sword into this bosom: lay me
Dead on the earth, and then thou wilt be safe.
Murder my father! though his cruel nature
Has persecuted me to my undoing,
Driven me to basest wants, can I behold him,
With smiles of vengeance, butchered in his age?
The sacred fountain of my life destroyed?
And canst thou shed the blood that gave me being?
Nay, be a traitor too, and sell thy country?
Can thy great heart descend so vilely low,
Mix with hired slaves, bravos, and common stabbers,
Nose-slitters, alley-lurking villains—join
With such a crew, and take a ruffian's wages,
To cut the throats of wretches as they sleep?
Jaff. Thou wrong'st me, Belvidera! I've engaged
With men of souls, fit to reform the ills
Of all mankind: there's not a heart amongst them,
But's stout as death, yet honest as the nature
Of man first made, ere fraud and vice were fashions.
Belv. What's he to whose cursed hands last night
thou gavest me?
Was that well done? Oh! I could tell a story
Would rouse thy lion-heart out of its den,
And make it rage with terrifying fury.
Jaff. Speak on, I charge thee!
Belv. O my love! if e'er
Thy Belvidera's peace deserved thy care,
Remove me from this place—last night, last night!
Jaff. Distract me not, but give me all the truth.
Belv. No sooner wert thou gone, and I alone,
Left in the power of that old son of mischief;
No sooner was I lain on my sad bed,
But that vile wretch approached me, loose, unbuttoned,
Ready for violation: then my heart
Throbbed with its fears: oh, how I wept and sighed,
And shrunk and trembled, wished in vain for him
That should protect me! Thou, alas! wert gone.
Jaff. Patience, sweet Heaven! till I make vengeance sure.
Belv. He drew the hideous dagger forth thou gavest him,
And with upbraiding smiles, he said, "Behold it;
This is the pledge of a false husband's love":
And in my arms then pressed, and would have clasped me;
But with my cries I scared his coward-heart,
Till he withdrew, and muttered vows to hell.
These are thy friends! with these thy life, thy honour,
Thy love, all's staked, and all will go to ruin!
Jaff. No more: I charge thee keep this secret close;
Clear up thy sorrows, look as if thy wrongs
Were all forgot, and treat him like a friend,
As no complaint were made. No more; retire,
Retire, my life, and doubt not of my honour;
I'll heal its failings and deserve thy love.
Belv. Oh, should I part with thee, I fear thou wilt
In anger leave me, and return no more.
Jaff. Return no more! I would not live without thee
Another night, to purchase the creation.
Belv. When shall we meet again?
Jaff. Anon, at twelve:
I'll steal myself to thy expecting arms,
Come like a travelled dove, and bring thee peace.
Belv. Indeed?
Jaff. By all our loves!
Belv. 'Tis hard to part:
But sure no falsehood ever looked so fairly.
Farewell—remember twelve. [Exit.
Jaff. Let Heaven forget me
When I remember not thy truth, thy love.
How cursed is my condition! tossed and justled
From every corner; fortune's common fool,
The jest of rogues, an instrumental ass
For villains to lay loads of shame upon,
And drive about just for their ease and scorn.

Enter PIERRE.

Pier. Jaffier!
Jaff. Who calls?
Pier. A friend, that could have wished
To have found thee otherwise employed: what, hunt
A wife on the dull foil! sure a staunch husband
Of all hounds is the dullest. Wilt thou never,
Never be weaned from caudles and confections?
What feminine tale hast thou been listening toOf unaired shirts, catarrhs and
toothache got
By thin-soled shoes? Damnation! that a fellow,
Chosen to be a sharer in the destruction
Of a whole people, should sneak thus in corners
To ease his fulsome lusts, and fool his mind!
Jaff. May not a man then trifle out an hour
With a kind woman, and not wrong his calling?
Pier. Not in a cause like ours.
Jaff. Then, friend, our cause
Is in a damned condition: for I'll tell thee,
That canker-worm called lechery has touched it;'Tis tainted vilely. Wouldst
thou
think it, Renault
(That mortified, old, withered, winter-rogue)
Loves simple fornication like a priest?
I found him out for watering at my wife:
He visited her last night, like a kind guardian.
Faith, she has some temptations, that's the truth on't.
Pier. He durst not wrong his trust?
Jaff. 'Twas something late, though,
To take the freedom of a lady's chamber.
Pier. Was she in bed?
Jaff. Yes, faith, in virgin sheets
White as her bosom, Pierre, dished neatly up,
Might tempt a weaker appetite to taste.
Oh, how the old fox stunk, I warrant thee,
When the rank fit was on him!
Pier. Patience guide me!
He used no violence?
Jaff. No, no! out on't, violence!
Played with her neck, brushed her with his gray beard,
Struggled and towzed, tickled her till she squeaked a little,
May be, or so—but not a jot of violence.
Pier. Damn him!
Jaff. Ay, so say I: but hush, no more on't;
All hitherto is well, and I believe
Myself no monster, yet: though no man knows
What fate he's born to. Sure 'tis near the hour
We all should meet for our concluding orders.
Will the ambassador be here in person?
Pier. No; he has sent commission to that villain,
Renault, to give the executing charge;
I'd have thee be a man, if possible,
And keep thy temper; for a brave revenge
Ne'er comes too late.
Jaff. Fear not, I'm cool as patience:
Had he completed my dishonour, rather
Than hazard the success our hopes are ripe for,
I'd bear it all with mortifying virtue.
Pier. He's yonder coming this way through the hall;
His thoughts seem full.
Jaff. Pr'ythee retire, and leave me
With him alone: I'll put him to some trial,
See how his rotten part will bear the touching.
Pier. Be careful then. [Exit.
Jaff. Nay, never doubt, but trust me.—
What, be a devil! take a damning oath
For shedding native blood! can there be a sin
In merciful repentance? O this villain!

Enter RENAULT.

Ren. Perverse! and peevish! what a slave is man,
To let his itching flesh thus get the better of him!
Despatch the tool her husband—that were well—
Who's there?
Jaff. A man.
Ren. My friend, my near ally!
The hostage of your faith, my beauteous charge
Is very well.
Jaff. Sir, are you sure of that?
Stands she in perfect health? beats her pulse even?
Neither too hot nor cold?
Ren. What means that question?
Jaff. Oh, women have fantastic constitutions,
Inconstant as their wishes, always wavering,
And never fixed. Was it not boldly done,
Even at first sight to trust the thing I loved—
A tempting treasure too!—with youth so fierce
And vigorous as thine?—but thou art honest.
Ren. Who dares accuse me?
Jaff. Cursed be him that doubts
Thy virtue! I have tried it, and declare,
Were I to choose a guardian of my honour,
I'd put it in thy keeping; for I know thee.
Ren. Know me?
Jaff. Ay, know thee: there's no falsehood in thee,
Thou look'st just as thou art: let us embrace.
Now wouldst thou cut my throat, or I cut thine?
Ren. You dare not do it.
Jaff. You lie, sir.
Ren. How!
Jaff. No more.
'Tis a base world, and must reform, that's all.

Enter SPINOSA, THEODORE, ELIOT, REVILLIDO, DURAND, BRAINVILLE, and the
rest of the Conspirators.

Ren. Spinosa! Theodore!
Spin. The same.
Ren. You are welcome!
Spin. You are trembling, sir.
Ren. 'Tis a cold night indeed, I am aged,
Full of decay and natural infirmities:
We shall be warm, my friend, I hope, to-morrow.

Re-enter PIERRE.

Pier. [Aside to JAFFIER.] 'Twas not well done thou shouldst have
strokèd him,
And not have galled him.
Jaff. [Aside to PIERRE.] Damn him! let him chew on it.
Heaven! where am I? beset with cursèd fiends,That wait to damn me. What a
devil's man,
When he forgets his nature! Hush, my heart!
Ren. My friends, 'tis late; are we assembled all?
Where's Theodore?
Theo. At hand.
Ren. Spinosa?
Spin. Here.
Ren. Brainville?
Brain. I'm ready.
Ren. Durand and Brabe?
Dur. Command us;
We are both prepared.
Ren. Mezzana, Revillido,
Ternon, Retrosi? oh, you're men, I find,
Fit to behold your fate, and meet her summons;
To-morrow's rising sun must see you all
Decked in your honours! Are the soldiers ready?
All. All, all.
Ren. You, Durand, with your thousand, must possess
St. Mark's; you, captain, know your charge already;
'Tis to secure the Ducal Palace; you,
Brabe, with a hundred more, must gain the Secque;
With the like number, Brainville, to the Procurale.
Be all this done with the least tumult possible,
Till in each place you post sufficient guards:
Then sheathe your swords in every breast you meet.
Jaff. [Aside.] O reverend cruelty! Damned bloody villain!
Ren. During this execution, Durand, you
Must, in the midst, keep your battalia fast;
And, Theodore, be sure to plant the cannon
That may command the streets; whilst Revillido,
Mezzana, Ternon, and Retrosi guard you.
This done, we'll give the general alarm,
Apply petards, and force the arsenal gates:
Then fire the city round in several places,
Or with our cannon, if it dare resist,
Batter it to ruin. But, above all, I charge you,
Shed blood enough, spare neither sex nor age,
Name nor condition; if there live a senator
After to-morrow, though the dullest rogue
That e'er said nothing, we have lost our ends;
If possible, let's kill the very name
Of senator, and bury it in blood.
Jaff. [Aside.] Merciless, horrid slave!—[Aloud.]
Ay, blood enough—
Shed blood enough, old Renault! how thou charm'st me!
Ren. But one thing more, and then farewell till fate
Join us again, or separate us ever:
First, let's embrace; Heaven knows who next shall thus
Wing ye together: but let's all remember
We wear no common cause upon our swords;
Let each man think that on his single virtue
Depends the good and fame of all the rest,
Eternal honour or perpetual infamy.
Let us remember, through what dreadful hazards
Propitious fortune hitherto has led us;
How often on the brink of some discovery
Have we stood tottering, yet still kept our ground
So well, the busiest searchers ne'er could followThose subtle tracks which
puzzled all suspicion.
You droop, sir.
Jaff. No; with most profound attention
I've heard it all, and wonder at thy virtue.
Ren. Though there be yet few hours 'twixt them and ruin,
Are not the Senate lulled in full security,
Quiet and satisfied, as fools are always?
Never did so profound repose forerun
Calamity so great: nay, our good fortune
Has blinded the most piercing of mankingd,
Strengthened the fearfullest, charmed the most suspectful,
Confounded the most subtle: for we live,
We live, my friends, and quickly shall our life
Prove fatal to these tyrants. Let's consider
That we destroy oppression, avarice,
A people nursed up equally with vices
And loathsome lusts, which nature most abhors,
And such as without shame she cannot suffer.
Jaff. O Belvidera, take me to thy arms,
And show me where's my peace, for I have lost it.
[Exit.
Ren. Without the least remorse, then, let's resolve
With fire and sword to exterminate these tyrants;
And when we shall behold those cursed tribunals
Stained by the tears and sufferings of the innocent,
Burning with flames, rather from Heaven than ours;
The raging, furious, and unpitying soldier
Pulling his reeking dagger from the bosoms
Of gasping wretches; death in every quarter,
With all that sad disorder can produce,
To make a spectacle of horror; then,
Then let us call to mind, my dearest friends,
That there is nothing pure upon the earth;
That the most valued things have most allays,
And that in change of all those vile enormities,
Under whose weight this wretched country labours,
The means are only in our hands to cure them.
Pier. And may those powers above that are propitious
To gallant minds record this cause, and bless it!
Ren. Thus happy, thus secure of all we wish for,
Should there, my friends, be found amongst us one
False to this glorious enterprise, what fate,
What vengeance were enough for such a villain?
Eliot. Death here without repentance, hell hereafter.
Ren. Let that be my lot, if as here I stand,
Listed by fate amongst her darling sons,
Though I had one only brother, dear by all
The strictest ties of nature; though one hour
Had given us birth, one fortune fed our wants,
One only love, and that but of each other,
Still filled our minds,—could I have such a friend
Joined in this cause, and had but ground to fear
He meant foul play, may this right hand drop from me,
If I'd not hazard all my future peace,
And stab him to the heart before you. Who,
Who would do less? wouldst not thou, Pierre, the same?
Pier. You've singled me, sir, out for this hard question,
As if 'twere started only for my sake.
Am I the thing you fear? Here, here's my bosom,
Search it with all your swords! Am I a traitor?
Ren. No; but I fear your late-commended friend
Is little less. Come, sirs, 'tis now no time
To trifle with our safety. Where's this Jaffier?
Spin. He left the room just now in strange disorder.
Ren. Nay, there is danger in him: I observed him,
During the time I took for explanation.
He was transported from most deep attention
To a confusion which he could not smother;
His looks grew full of sadness and surprise,
All which betrayed a wavering spirit in him,
That laboured with reluctancy and sorrow.
What's requisite for safety must be done
With speedy execution: he remains
Yet in our power: I for my own part wear
A dagger.
Pier. Well.
Ren. And I could wish it—
Pier. Where?
Ren. Buried in his heart.
Pier. Away! we're yet all friends;
No more of this, 'twill breed ill blood amongst us.
Spin. Let us all draw our swords, and search the house,
Pull him from the dark hole where he sits brooding
O'er his cold fears, and each man kill his share of him.
Pier. Who talks of killing? Who's he'll shed the blood
That's dear to me? Is't you? or you? or you? sir?
What, not one speak? how you stand gaping all
On your grave oracle, your wooden god there!
Yet not a word. Then, sir—[To RENAULT]—I'll tell you a
secret;—
Suspicion's but at best a coward's virtue!
Ren. A coward! [Handles his sword.
Pier. Put, put up thy sword, old man,
Thy hand shakes at it. Come, let's heal this breach,
I am too hot; we yet may all live friends.
Spin. Till we are safe, our friendship cannot be so.
Pier. Again? who's that?
Spin. 'Twas I.
Theo. And I.
Rev. And I.
Eliot. And all.
Ren. Who are on my side?
Spin. Every honest sword.
Let's die like men, and not be sold like slaves.
Pier. One such word more, by Heaven, I'll to the Senate,
And hang ye all like dogs in clusters.
Why peep your coward swords half out their shells?
Why do you not all brandish them like mine?
You fear to die, and yet dare talk of killing!
Ren. Go to the Senate and betray us; hasten,
Secure thy wretched life; we fear to die
Less than thou darest be honest.
Pier. That's rank falsehood.
Fear'st not thou death? fie! there's a knavish itch
In that salt blood, an utter foe to smarting.
Had Jaffier's wife proved kind, he had still been true.
Faugh! how that stinks!
Thou die! thou kill my friend! or thou, or thou;
Or thou, with that lean, withered, wretched face!
Away! disperse all to your several charges,
And meet to-morrow where your honour calls you;
I'll bring that man whose blood you so much thirst for,
And you shall see him venture for you fairly.
Hence, hence, I say. [Exit RENAULT angrily.
Spin. I fear we've been to blame,
And done too much.
Theo. 'Twas too far urged against the man you loved.
Rev. Here, take our swords, and crush them with your feet.
Spin. Forgive us, gallant friend.
Pier. Nay, now you've found
The way to melt and cast me as you will.
I'll fetch this friend, and give him to your mercy:
Nay, he shall die, if you will take him from me;
For your repose, I'll quit my heart's jewel;
But would not have him torn away by villains
And spiteful villany.
Spin. No; may you both
For ever live, and fill the world with fame!
Pier. Now you are too kind. Whence rose all this discord?
Oh, what a dangerous precipice have we 'scaped!
How near a fall was all we had long been building!
What an eternal blot had stained our glories,
If one, the bravest and the best of men,
Had fallen a sacrifice to rash suspicion!
Butchered by those whose cause he came to cherish!
Oh, could you know him all as I have known him,
How good he is, how just, how true, how brave,
You would not leave this place till you had seen him,
Humbled yourselves before him, kissed his feet,
And gained remission for the worst of follies.
Come but to-morrow, all your doubts shall end;
And to your loves me better recommend,
That I've preserved your fame, and saved my friend.
[Exeunt.

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE I.—A Public Place.

Enter JAFFIER and BELVIDERA.

JAFF. Where dost thou lead me?
Every step I move,
Methinks I tread upon some mangled limb
Of a racked friend. O my dear charming ruin!
Where are we wandering?
Belv. To eternal honour;
To do a deed shall chronicle thy name
Among the glorious legends of those few
That have saved sinking nations: thy renown
Shall be the future song of all the virgins,
Who by thy piety have been preserved
From horrid violation; every street
Shall be adorned with statues to thy honour,
And at thy feet this great inscription written,
"Remember him that propped the fall of Venice."
Jaff. Rather remember him who, after all
The sacred bonds of oaths and holier friendship,
In fond compassion to a woman's tears,
Forgot his manhood, virtue, truth, and honour,
To sacrifice the bosom that relieved him.
Why wilt thou damn me?
Belv. O inconstant man!
How will you promise! how will you deceive!
Do, return back, replace me in my bondage;
Tell all thy friends how dangerously thou lovest me;
And let thy dagger do its bloody office.
O, that kind dagger, Jaffier, how 'twill look
Stuck through my heart, drenched in my blood to the hilts!
Whilst these poor dying eyes shall with their tears
No more torment thee;—then thou wilt be free.
Or if thou think'st it nobler, let me live
Till I'm a victim to the hateful lust
Of that infernal devil, that old fiend
That's damned himself, and would undo mankind.
Last night, my love!
Jaff. Name, name it not again;
It shows a beastly image to my fancy,
Will wake me into madness. O, the villain
That durst approach such purity as thine
On terms so vile! Destruction, swift destruction
Fall on my coward head, and make my name
The common scorn of fools, if I forgive him!
If I forgive him! if I not revenge
With utmost rage, and most unstaying fury,
Thy suffering, dear darling of my life.
Belv. Delay no longer then, but to the Senate;
And tell the dismallest story ever uttered;
Tell them what bloodshed, rapines, desolations,
Have been prepared: how near's the fatal hour;
Save thy poor country, save the reverend blood
Of all its nobles, which to-morrow's dawn
Must else see shed; save the poor tender lives
Of all those little infants which the swords
Of murderers are whetting for this moment;
Think thou already hear'st their dying screams,
Think that thou seest their sad distracted mothersKneeling before thy feet,
and
begging pity,
With torn dishevelled hair and streaming eyes,
Their naked mangled breasts besmeared with blood,
And even the milk, with which their fondled babes
Softly they hushed, dropping in anguish from them:
Think thou seest this, and then consult thy heart.
Jaff. Oh!
Belv. Think, too, if thou lose this present minute,
What miseries the next day brings upon thee.
Imagine all the horrors of that night,
Murder and rapine, waste and desolation,
Confusedly ranging. Think what then may prove
My lot! The ravisher may then come safe,
And, 'midst the terror of the public ruin,
Do a damned deed; perhaps too lay a train
May catch thy life: then where will be revenge,
The dear revenge that's due to such a wrong?
Jaff. By all Heaven's powers, prophetic truth dwells in thee,
For every word thou speak'st strikes through my heart
Like a new light, and shows it how it has wandered;
Just what thou'st made me, take me, Belvidera,
And lead me to the place where I'm to say
This bitter lesson; where I must betray
My truth, my virtue, constancy, and friends:—
Must I betray my friend? Ah! take me quickly,
Secure me well before that thought's renewed;
If I relapse once more, all's lost for ever.
Belv. Hast thou a friend more dear than Belvidera?
Jaff. No; thou'rt my soul itself; wealth, friendship, honour,
All present joys and earnest of all future,
Are summed in thee: methinks, when in thy arms
Thus leaning on thy breast, one minute's more
Than a long thousand years of vulgar hours.
Why was such happiness not given me pure?
Why dashed with cruel wrongs, and bitter wantings?
Come, lead me forward now, like a tame lamb
To sacrifice. Thus in his fatal garlands,
Decked fine and pleased, the wanton skips and plays,
Trots by the enticing flattering priestess' side,
And, much transported with his little pride,
Forgets his dear companions of the plain;
Till, by her bound, he's on the altar lain,
Yet then too hardly bleats, such pleasure's in the pain.

Enter Officer and six Guards.

Offi. Stand; who goes there?
Belv. Friends.
Jaff. Friends, Belvidera! hide me from my friends.
By Heaven, I'd rather see the face of hell
Than meet the man I love.
Offi. But what friends are you?
Belv. Friends to the Senate and the state of Venice.
Offi. My orders are, to seize on all I find
At this late hour, and bring them to the Council,
Who now are sitting.
Jaff. Sir, you shall be obeyed.
Hold, brutes! stand off, none of your paws upon me.
Now the lot's cast, and, fate, do what thou wilt.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II.—The Senate House.

The Duke of VENICE, PRIULI, ANTONIO, and eight other Senators discovered
in session.

Duke. Antony, Priuli, senators of Venice,
Speak; why are we assembled here this night?
What have you to inform us of, concerns
The state of Venice' honour, or its safety?
Priu. Could words express the story I've to tell you,
Fathers, these tears were useless, these sad tears
That fall from my old eyes; but there is cause
We all should weep; tear off these purple robes,
And wrap ourselves in sackcloth, sitting down
On the sad earth, and cry aloud to Heaven.
Heaven knows if yet there be an hour to come
Ere Venice be no more!
All the Senators. How!
Priu. Nay, we stand
Upon the very brink of gaping ruin.
Within this city's formed a dark conspiracy
To massacre us all, our wives and children,
Kindred and friends; our palaces and temples
To lay in ashes: nay, the hour too fixed;
The swords, for aught I know, drawn even this moment,
And the wild waste begun. From unknown hands
I had this warning: but, if we are men,
Let's not be tamely butchered, but do something
That may inform the world in after-ages
Our virtue was not ruined, though we were.
[Voices without] Room, room, make room for some prisoners! 2nd
Senat. Let's raise the city.

Enter Officer and Guard.

Priu. Speak there, what disturbance?
Offi. Two prisoners have the guard seized in the streets,
Who say they come to inform this reverend Senate
About the present danger.
All. Give them entrance.—

Enter JAFFIER and BELVIDERA, guarded.

Well; who are you?
Jaff. A villain.
Ant. Short and pithy.
The man speaks well.
Jaff. Would every man that hears me
Would deal so honestly, and own his title!
Duke. 'Tis rumoured that a plot has been contrived
Against this state; that you've a share in't too.
If you're a villain, to redeem your honour,
Unfold the truth, and be restored with mercy.
Jaff. Think not that I, to save my life, come hither;
I know its value better; but in pity
To all those wretches whose unhappy dooms
Are fixed and sealed. You see me here before you.
The sworn and covenanted foe of Venice;But use me as my dealings may deserve,
And I may prove a friend.
Duke. The slave capitulates!
Give him the tortures.
Jaff. That you dare not do;
Your fears won't let you, nor the longing itch
To hear a story which you dread the truth of,—
Truth, which the fear of smart shall ne'er get from me.
Cowards are scared with threatenings; boys are whipped
Into confessions: but a steady mind
Acts of itself, ne'er asks the body counsel.
Give him the tortures! Name but such a thing
Again, by Heaven, I'll shut these lips for ever;
Not all your racks, your engines, or your wheels
Shall force a groan away that you may guess at.
Ant. A bloody-minded fellow, I'll warrant; a damned bloody-minded
fellow.
Duke. Name your conditions.
Jaff. For myself full pardon,
Besides the lives of two and twenty friends
[Delivers a list.
Whose names are here enrolled: nay, let their crimes
Be ne'er so monstrous, I must have the oaths
And sacred promise of this reverend council,
That in a full assembly of the Senate
The thing I ask be ratified. Swear this,
And I'll unfold the secrets of your danger.
All. We'll swear.
Duke. Propose the oath.
Jaff. By all the hopes
Ye have of peace and happiness hereafter,
Swear.
All. We all swear.
Jaff. To grant me what I've asked,
Ye swear?
All. We swear.
Jaff. And as ye keep the oath,
May you and your posterity be blessed,
Or cursed for ever!
All. Else be cursed for ever!
Jaff. Then here's the list, and with it the full disclose
Of all that threatens you. Now, fate, thou'st caught me. [Delivers another
paper.
Ant. Why, what a dreadful catalogue of cut-throats is here! I'll
warrant
you, not one of these fellows but has a face like a lion. I dare not so much as

read their names over.
Duke. Give order that all diligent search be made
To seize these men; their characters are public:
The paper intimates their rendezvous
To be at the house of a famed Grecian courtesan,
Called Aquilina; see that place secured.
Ant. What, my Nicky Nacky, hurry durry, Nicky
Nacky in the plot?—I'll make a speech.—
Most noble senators,
What headlong apprehension drives you on,
Right noble, wise, and truly solid senators,
To violate the laws and right of nations?
The lady is a lady of renown.
'Tis true, she holds a house of fair reception,
And though I say it myself, as many more
Can say as well as I—
2nd Senat. My lord, long speeches
Are frivolous here, when dangers are so near us.
We all well know your interest in that lady;
The world talks loud on't.
Ant. Verily, I have done,
I say no more.
Duke. But, since he has declared
Himself concerned, pray, captain, take great caution
To treat the fair one as becomes her character,
And let her bed-chamber be searched with decency.
You, Jaffier, must with patience bear till morning
To be our prisoner.
Jaff. Would the chains of death
Had bound me fast ere I had known this minute!
I've done a deed will make my story hereafter
Quoted in competition with all ill ones:
The history of my wickedness shall run
Down through the low traditions of the vulgar,
And boys be taught to tell the tale of Jaffier.
Duke. Captain, withdraw your prisoner.
Jaff. Sir, if possible,
Lead me where my own thoughts themselves may lose me;
Where I may doze out what I've left of life,
Forget myself, and this day's guilt and falsehood.
Cruel remembrance, how shall I appease thee!
[Exeunt JAFFIER and BELVIDERA, guarded.
[Voices without] More traitors; room, room, make room there.
Duke. How's this! Guards!
Where are our guards? Shut up the gates; the treason's
Already at our doors.

Enter Officer.

Offi. My lords, more traitors;
Seized in the very act of consultation;
Furnished with arms and instruments of mischief.—
Bring in the prisoners.

Enter PIERRE, RENAULT, THEODORE, ELIOT, REVILLIDO, and other
Conspirators, in fetters, guarded.

Pier. You, my lords and fathers
(As you are pleased to call yourselves) of Venice,
If you sit here to guide the course of justice,
Why these disgraceful chains upon the limbs
That have so often laboured in your service?
Are these the wreaths of triumphs ye bestow
On those that bring you conquests home, and honours?
Duke. Go on; you shall be heard, sir.
Ant. And be hanged, too, I hope.
Pier. Are these the trophies I've deserved for fighting
Your battles with confederated powers?
When winds and seas conspired to overthrow you,
And brought the fleets of Spain to your own harbours;
When you, great Duke, shrunk trembling in your palace,
And saw your wife, the Adriatic, ploughed,
Like a lewd whore, by bolder prows than yours,
Stepped not I forth, and taught your loose Venetians
The task of honour, and the way to greatness;
Raised you from your capitulating fears,
To stipulate the terms of sued-for peace?
And this my recompense? If I'm a traitor,
Produce my charge; or show the wretch that's base enough
And brave enough to tell me I'm a traitor.
Duke. Know you one Jaffier?
[All the Conspirators murmur.
Pier. Yes, and know his virtue.
His justice, truth, his general worth, and sufferings
From a hard father, taught me first to love him.
Duke. See him brought forth.

Re-enter JAFFIER, guarded.

Pier. My friend too bound! nay, then,
Our fate has conquered us, and we must fall.
Why droops the man whose welfare's so much mine,
They're but one thing? These reverend tyrants, Jaffier,
Call us all traitors: art thou one, my brother?
Jaff. To thee I am the falsest, veriest slave
That e'er betrayed a generous, trusting friend,
And gave up honour to be sure of ruin.
All our fair hopes, which morning was to have crowned,
Has this cursed tongue o'erthrown.
Pier. So, then, all's over.
Venice has lost her freedom; I my life.
No more; farewell.
Duke. Say, will you make confession
Of your vile deeds, and trust the Senate's mercy?
Pier. Cursed be your Senate; cursed your constitution;
The curse of growing factions and division
Still vex your councils, shake your public safety,
And make the robes of government you wear.
Hateful to you, as these base chains to me!
Duke. Pardon, or death?
Pier. Death, honourable death!
Ren. Death's the best thing we ask, or you can give.
All Conspir. No shameful bonds, but honourable death.
Duke. Break up the council. Captain, guard your prisoners.
Jaffier, you're free, but these must wait for judgment.
[Exeunt all the Senators.
Pier. Come, where's my dungeon? lead me to my straw:
It will not be the first time I've lodged hard
To do your Senate service.
Jaff. Hold one moment.
Pier. Who's he disputes the judgment of the Senate?
Presumptuous rebel—on— [Strikes JAFFIER.
Jaff. By Heaven, you stir not!
I must be heard, I must have leave to speak.
Thou hast disgraced me, Pierre, by a vile blow:
Had not a dagger done thee nobler justice?
But use me as thou wilt, thou canst not wrong me,
For I am fallen beneath the basest injuries;
Yet look upon me with an eye of mercy,
With pity and with charity behold me;
Shut not thy heart against a friend's repentance,
But, as there dwells a godlike nature in thee,
Listen with mildness to my supplications.
Pier. What whining monk art thou? what holy cheat,
That wouldst encroach upon my credulous ears,
And cant'st thus vilely? Hence! I know thee not.
Dissemble and be nasty: leave me, hypocrite.
Jaff. Not know me, Pierre?
Pier. No, know thee not: what art thou?
Jaff. Jaffier, thy friend, thy once loved, valued friend,
Though now deservedly scorned, and used most hardly.
Pier. Thou Jaffier! thou my once loved, valued friend?
By Heavens, thou liest! The man so called, my friend,
Was generous, honest, faithful, just, and valiant,
Noble in mind, and in his person lovely,
Dear to my eyes and tender to my heart:
But thou, a wretched, base, false, worthless coward,
Poor even in soul, and loathsome in thy aspect;
All eyes must shun thee, and all hearts detest thee.
Pr'ythee avoid, nor longer cling thus round me,
Like something baneful, that my nature's chilled at.
Jaff. I have not wronged thee, by these tears I have not,
But still am honest, true, and hope, too, valiant;
My mind still full of thee: therefore still noble.
Let not thy eyes then shun me, nor thy heart
Detest me utterly: oh, look upon me,
Look back and see my sad, sincere submission!
How my heart swells, as even 'twould burst my bosom,
Fond of its goal, and labouring to be at thee!
What shall I do—what say to make thee hear me?
Pier. Hast thou not wronged me? dar'st thou call thyself
Jaffier, that once loved, valued friend of mine,
And swear thou hast not wronged me? Whence these chains?
Whence the vile death which I may meet this moment?
Whence this dishonour, but from thee, thou false one?
Jaff. All's true, yet grant one thing, and I've done asking.
Pier. What's that?
Jaff. To take thy life on such conditions
The Council have proposed: thou and thy friends
May yet live long, and to be better treated.
Pier. Life! ask my life? confess! record myself
A villain, for the privilege to breathe,
And carry up and down this cursèd city
A discontented and repining spirit,
Burthensome to itself, a few years longer,
To lose it, may be, at last in a lewd quarrel
For some new friend, treacherous and false as thou art!
No, this vile world and I have long been jangling,
And cannot part on better terms than now,
When only men like thee are fit to live in't.
Jaff. By all that's just—
Pier. Swear by some other powers,
For thou hast broke that sacred oath too lately.
Jaff. Then, by that hell I merit, I'll not leave thee,
Till to thyself, at least, thou'rt reconciled,
However thy resentments deal with me.
Pier. Not leave me!
Jaff. No; thou shalt not force me from thee.
Use me reproachfully, and like a slave;
Tread on me, buffet me, heap wrongs on wrongs
On my poor head; I'll bear it all with patience,
Shall weary out thy most unfriendly cruelty:
Lie at thy feet and kiss them, though they spurn me,
Till, wounded by my sufferings, thou relent,
And raise me to thy arms with dear forgiveness.
Pier. Art thou not—
Jaff. What?
Pier. A traitor?
Jaff. Yes.
Pier. A villain?
Jaff. Granted.
Pier. A coward, a most scandalous coward,
Spiritless, void of honour, one who has sold
Thy everlasting fame for shameless life?
Jaff. All, all, and more, much more: my faults are numberless.
Pier. And wouldst thou have me live on terms like thine?
Base as thou'rt false—
Jaff. No; 'tis to me that's granted.
The safety of thy life was all I aimed at,
In recompense for faith and trust so broken.
Pier. I scorn it more, because preserved by thee:
And as when first my foolish heart took pity
On thy misfortunes, sought thee in thy miseries,
Relieved thy wants, and raised thee from thy state
Of wretchedness in which thy fate had plunged thee,
To rank thee in my list of noble friends,
All I received in surety for thy truth
Were unregarded oaths, and this, this dagger,
Given with a worthless pledge thou since hast stolen,
So I restore it back to thee again;
Swearing by all those powers which thou hast violated,
Never from this cursed hour to hold communion,
Friendship, or interest with thee, though our years
Were to exceed those limited the world.
Take it—farewell!—for now I owe thee nothing.
Jaff. Say thou wilt live then.
Pier. For my life, dispose it
Just as thou wilt, because 'tis what I'm tired with.
Jaff. O Pierre!
Pier. No more.
Jaff. My eyes won't lose the sight of thee,
But languish after thine, and ache with gazing.
Pier. Leave me—Nay, then thus, thus I throw thee from me,
And curses, great as is thy falsehood, catch thee!
[Exeunt PIERRE and Conspirators, guarded.
Jaff. Amen! he's gone, my father, friend, preserver;
And here's the portion he has left me.
[Holds the dagger up.
This dagger, well remembered; with this dagger
I gave a solemn vow of dire importance;
Parted with this and Belvidera together;—
Have a care, memory; drive that thought no farther;—
No, I'll esteem it as a friend's last legacy,
Treasure it up within this wretched bosom,
Where it may grow acquainted with my heart,
That, when they meet, they start not from each other.
So; now for thinking: a blow, called traitor, villain,
Coward, dishonourable coward, faugh!
O for a long sound sleep, and so forget it!
Down, busy devil—

Re-enter BELVIDERA.

Belv. Whither shall I fly?
Where hide me and my miseries together?
Where's now the Roman constancy I boasted?
Sunk into trembling fears and desperation!
Not daring to look up to that dear face
Which used to smile even on my faults, but down
Bending these miserable eyes to earth,
Must move in penance, and implore much mercy.
Jaff. Mercy! kind Heaven has surely endless stores,
Hoarded for thee, of blessings yet untasted.
Let wretches loaded hard with guilt as I am
Bow with the weight, and groan beneath the burthen;
Creep, with a remnant of that strength they've left,
Before the footstool of that Heaven they've injured.
O Belvidera! I'm the wretchedest creature
E'er crawled on earth: now, if thou'st virtue, help me;
Take me
Into thy arms, and speak the words of peace
To my divided soul, that wars within me
And raises every sense to my confusion;
By Heaven, I'm tottering on the very brink
Of peace, and thou art all the hold I've left.
Belv. Alas! I know thy sorrows are most mighty;
I know thou'st cause to mourn, to mourn, my Jaffier,
With endless cries, and never-ceasing wailings;
Thou'st lost—
Jaff. Oh, I have lost what can't be counted!
My friend too, Belvidera,—that dear friend,
Who, next to thee, was all my health rejoiced in,—
Has used me like a slave, shamefully used me;
'Twould break thy pitying heart to hear the story!
What shall I do? resentment, indignation,
Love, pity, fear, and memory how I've wronged him,
Distract my quiet with the very thought on't,
And tear my heart to pieces in my bosom.
Belv. What has he done?
Jaff. Thou'dst hate me, should I tell thee.
Belv. Why?
Jaff. Oh, he has used me—yet, by Heaven, I bear it!
He has used me, Belvidera—but first swear
That when I've told thee thou'lt not loathe me utterly,
Though vilest blots and stains appear upon me;
But still at least, with charitable goodness,
Be near me in the pangs of my affliction—
Not scorn me, Belvidera, as he has done.
Belv. Have I then e'er been false, that now I'm doubted?
Speak, what's the cause I'm grown into distrust?
Why thought unfit to hear my love's complainings?
Jaff. Oh!
Belv. Tell me.
Jaff. Bear my failings, for they're many.
O my dear angel! in that friend I've lost
All my soul's peace; for every thought of him
Strikes my sense hard, and deads it in my brains.
Wouldst thou believe it?—
Belv. Speak.
Jaff. Before we parted,
Ere yet his guards had led him to his prison,
Full of severest sorrows for his sufferings,
With eyes o'erflowing, and a bleeding heart,
Humbling myself almost beneath my nature,
As at his feet I kneeled, and sued for mercy,
Forgetting all our friendship, all the dearness
In which we've lived so many years together,
With a reproachful hand he dashed a blow:
He struck me, Belvidera—by Heaven, he struck me,
Buffeted, called me traitor, villain, coward.
Am I a coward? am I a villain? tell me:
Thou'rt the best judge, and madest me, if I am so.
Damnation! coward!
Belv. Oh! forgive him, Jaffier;
And, if his sufferings wound thy heart already,
What will they do to-morrow?
Jaff. Ha!
Belv. To-morrow;
When thou shalt see him stretched in all the agonies
Of a tormenting and a shameful death;
His bleeding bowels, and his broken limbs,
Insulted o'er by a vile butchering villain;—
What will thy heart do then? Oh, sure, 'twill stream
Like my eyes now.
Jaff. What means thy dreadful story?
Death, and to-morrow! broken limbs and bowels!
Insulted o'er by a vile butchering villain!
By all my fears, I shall start out to madness,
With barely guessing, if the truth's hid longer.
Belv. The faithless senators, 'tis they've decreed it:
They say, according to our friends' request,
They shall have death, and not ignoble bondage;
Declare their promised mercy all as forfeited;
False to their oaths, and deaf to intercession,
Warrants are passed for public death to-morrow.
Jaff. Death! doomed to die! condemned unheard! unpleaded!
Belv. Nay, cruellest racks and torments are preparing,
To force confessions from their dying pangs.
Oh, do not look so terribly upon me:
How your lips shake, and all your face disordered!
What means my love?
Jaff. Leave me, I charge thee, leave me! strong temptations
Wake in my heart.
Belv. For what?
Jaff. No more; but leave me.
Belv. Why?
Jaff. Oh! by Heaven, I love thee with that fondness,
I would not have thee stay a moment longer
Near these cursed hands; are they not cold upon thee?
Belv. No, everlasting comfort's in thy arms.
[Pulls the dagger half out of his bosom, and puts it back
again.
To lean thus on thy breast is softer ease
Than downy pillows decked with leaves of roses.
Jaff. Alas! thou think'st not of the thorns 'tis filled with;
Fly ere they gall thee: there's a lurking serpent
Ready to leap and sting thee to thy heart:
Art thou not terrified?
Belv. No.
Jaff. Call to mind
What thou hast done, and whither thou hast brought me.
Belv. Ha!
Jaff. Where's my friend? my friend, thou smiling mischief?
Nay, shrink not, now 'tis too late; thou shouldst have fled
When thy guilt first had cause; for dire revenge
Is up, and raging for my friend. He groans!
Hark how he groans! his screams are in my ears
Already! see, they've fixed him on the wheel,
And now they tear him—Murder! perjured Senate!
Murder—Oh!—hark thee, traitress, thou'st done this;
Thanks to thy tears and false-persuading love,
[Fumbling for his dagger.
How her eyes speak! O thou bewitching creature!
Madness can't hurt thee: come, thou little trembler,
Creep even into my heart, and there lie safe;
'Tis thy own citadel—ha!—yet stand off:
Heaven must have justice, and my broken vows
Will sink me else beneath its reaching mercy;
I'll wink, and then 'tis done—
Belv. What means the lord
Of me, my life and love? what's in thy bosom,
Thou grasp'st at so? Nay, why am I thus treated?
[He draws the dagger, and offers to stab her.
What wilt thou do? Ah, do not kill me, Jaffier!
Pity these panting breasts, and trembling limbs,
That used to clasp thee when thy looks were milder,
That yet hang heavy on my unpurged soul,
And plunge it not into eternal darkness.
Jaff. No, Belvidera; when we parted last,
I gave this dagger with thee as in trust
To be thy portion, if I e'er proved false.
On such condition was my truth believed;
But now 'tis forfeited, and must be paid for.
[Offers to stab her again.
Belv. Oh, mercy! [Kneeling.
Jaff. Nay, no struggling.
Belv. Now then kill me;
[Leaps upon his neck, and kisses him.
While thus I cling about thy cruel neck,
Kiss thy revengeful lips, and die in joys
Greater than any I can guess hereafter.
Jaff. I am, I am a coward; witness it, Heaven;
Witness it, earth; and every being, witness!
'Tis but one blow; yet, by immortal love,
I cannot longer bear a thought to harm thee.
[Throws away the dagger, and embraces her.
The seal of Providence is sure upon thee,
And thou wert born for yet unheard-of wonders:
Oh, thou wert either born to save or damn me!
By all the power that's given thee o'er my soul,
By thy resistless tears and conquering smiles,
By the victorious love that still waits on thee,
Fly to thy cruel father, save my friend,
Or all our future quiet's lost for ever:
Fall at his feet, cling round his reverend knees;
Speak to him with thy eyes, and with thy tears
Melt his hard heart, and wake dead nature in him;
Crush him in thy arms, and torture him with thy softness;
Nor, till thy prayers are granted, set him free,
But conquer him, as thou hast vanquished me. [Exeunt.

ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I.—Before PRIULI'S house.

Enter PRIULI.

PRIU. Why, cruel Heaven, have my unhappy days
Been lengthened to this sad one?
Oh! dishonour
And deathless infamy is fallen upon me.
Was it my fault? Am I a traitor? No.
But then, my only child, my daughter wedded;
There my best blood runs foul, and a disease
Incurable has seized upon my memory,
To make it rot and stink to after ages.
Cursed be the fatal minute when I got her!
Or would that I'd been anything but man,
And raised an issue which would ne'er have wronged me!
The miserablest creatures (man excepted)
Are not the less esteemed, though their posterity
Degenerate from the virtues of their fathers;
The vilest beasts are happy in their offsprings;
While only man gets traitors, whores, and villains.
Cursed be the names, and some swift blow from fate
Lay his head deep, where mine may be forgotten!

Enter BELVIDERA in a long mourning veil.

Belv. [Aside.] He's there, my father, my inhuman father,
That, for three years, has left an only child
Exposed to all the outrages of fate
And cruel ruin—Oh!
Priu. What child of sorrow
Art thou, that comest thus wrapped in weeds of sadness,
And movest as if thy steps were towards a grave?
Belv. A wretch, who from the very top of happiness,
Am fallen into the lowest depths of misery,
And want your pitying hand to raise me up again.
Priu. Indeed, thou talk'st as thou hadst tasted sorrows;
Would I could help thee.
Belv. 'Tis greatly in your power;
The world, too, speaks you charitable; and I,
Who ne'er asked alms before, in that dear hope
Am come a-begging to you, sir.
Priu. For what?
Belv. Oh, well regard me; is this voice a strange one?
Consider, too, when beggars once pretend
A case like mine, no little will content them.
Priu. What wouldst thou beg for?
Belv. Pity and forgiveness. [Throws up her veil.
By the kind tender names of child and father,
Hear my complaints, and take me to your love.
Priu. My daughter!
Belv. Yes, your daughter, by a mother
Virtuous and noble, faithful to your honour,
Obedient to your will, kind to your wishes,
Dear to your arms: by all the joys she gave you,
When in her blooming years she was your treasure,
Look kindly on me; in my face behold
The lineaments of hers you've kissed so often,
Pleading the cause of your poor cast-off child.
Priu. Thou art my daughter.
Belv. Yes;—and you've oft told me
With smiles of love, and chaste paternal kisses,
I'd much resemblance of my mother.
Priu. Oh!
Hadst thou inherited her matchless virtues,
I'd been too blest.
Belv. Nay, do not call to memory
My disobedience, but let pity enter
Into your heart, and quite deface the impression;
For could you think how mine's perplexed, what sadness,
Fears, and despairs distract the peace within me,
Oh! you would take me in your dear, dear arms,
Hover with strong compassion o'er your young one,
To shelter me with a protecting wing,
From the black gathered storm, that's just, just breaking.
Priu. Don't talk thus.
Belv. Yes, I must, and you must hear too.
I have a husband—
Priu. Damn him!
Belv. Oh! do not curse him;
He would not speak so hard a word towards you
On any terms, howe'er he deal with me.
Priu. Ha! what means my child?
Bel. Oh, there's but this short moment
'Twixt me and fate: yet send me not with curses
Down to my grave; afford me one kind blessing
Before we part; just take me in your arms,
And recommend me with a prayer to Heaven,
That I may die in peace; and when I'm dead—
Priu. How my soul's catched!
Belv. Lay me, I beg you, lay me
By the dear ashes of my tender mother:
She would have pitied me, had fate yet spared her.
Priu. By Heaven, my aching heart forebodes much mischief.
Tell me thy story, for I'm still thy father.
Belv. No, I'm contended,
Priu. Speak.
Belv. No matter,
Priu. Tell me.
By yon blest Heaven, my heart runs o'er with fondness!
Belv. Oh!
Priu. Utter it.
Belv. Oh, my husband, my dear husband
Carries a dagger in his once kind bosom,
To pierce the heart of your poor Belvidera.
Priu. Kill thee?
Belv. Yes, kill me. When he passed his faith
And covenant against your state and Senate,
He gave me up as hostage for his truth;
With me a dagger, and a dire commission,
Whene'er he failed, to plunge it through this bosom.
I learnt the danger, chose the hour of love
To attempt his heart, and bring it back to honour.
Great Love prevailed, and blessed me with success;
He came, confessed, betrayed his dearest friends
For promised mercy. Now they're doomed to suffer,
Galled with remembrance of what then was sworn,
If they are lost, he vows to appease the gods
With this poor life, and make my blood the atonement.
Priu. Heavens!
Belv. Think you saw what passed at our last parting;
Think you beheld him like a raging lion,
Pacing the earth, and tearing up his steps,
Fate in his eyes, and roaring with the pain
Of burning fury; think you saw his one hand
Fixed on my throat, whilst the extended other
Grasped a keen threatening dagger; oh! 'twas thus
We last embraced; when, trembling with revenge,
He dragged me to the ground, and at my bosom
Presented horrid death; cried out "My friends!
Where are my friends?" swore, wept, raged, threatened, loved;
For he yet loved, and that dear love preserved me
To this last trial of a father's pity.
I fear not death, but cannot bear a thought
That that dear hand should do the unfriendly office.
If I was ever then your care, now hear me;
Fly to the Senate, save the promised lives
Of his dear friends, ere mine be made the sacrifice.
Priu. Oh, my heart's comfort!
Belv. Will you not, my father?
Weep not, but answer me.
Priu. By Heaven, I will.
Not one of them but what shall be immortal.
Canst thou forgive me all my follies past?
I'll henceforth be indeed a father; never,
Never more thus expose, but cherish thee,
Dear as the vital warmth that feeds my life;
Dear as these eyes that weep in fondness o'er thee.
Peace to thy heart! Farewell.
Belv. Go, and remember
'Tis Belvidera's life her father pleads for.
[Exeunt severally.

Enter ANTONIO.

Ant. Hum, hum, hah; Signior Priuli, my lord Pruili, my lord, my lord,
my lord! How we lords love to call one another by our titles! My lord, my
lord,
my lord—Pox on him! I am a lord as well as he; and so let him
fiddle. I'll
warrant him he's gone to the Senate-house, and I'll be there too, soon enough
for somebody. Odd! here's a tickling speech about the plot; I'll
prove there's a
plot with a vengeance—would I had it without book; let me see:—"Most
reverend senators,—That there is a plot, surely by this time, no man that
hath eyes or understanding in his head will presume to doubt; 'tis as plain as
the light in the cucumber"—no—hold there—cucumber does not come
in yet—" 'tis as plain as the light in the sun, or as the man in the
moon,
even at noon-day: it is indeed a pumpkin-plot, which, just as it was
mellow, we
have gathered, and now we have gathered it, prepared and dressed it, shall we
throw it like a pickled cucumber out at the window? no: that it is not only a
bloody, horrid, execrable, damnable and audacious plot; but it is, as I may so
say, a saucy plot; and we all know, most reverend fathers, that what is sauce
for a goose is sauce for a gander: therefore, I say, as those blood-thirsty
ganders of the conspiracy would have destroyed us geese of the Senate, let us
make haste to destroy them; so I humbly move for hanging." Ha, hurry durry! I
think this will do; though I was something out, at first, about the sun and
the
cucumber.

Enter AQUILINA.

Aquil. Good-morrow, senator.
Ant. Nacky, my dear Nacky! 'morrow, Nacky! Odd! I am very brisk, very
merry, very pert, very jovial—ha-a-a-a-a—kiss me, Nacky; how dost
thou
do, my little tory rory strumpet? Kiss me, I say, hussy, kiss me.
Aquil. Kiss me, Nacky! hang you, sir coxcomb, hang you, sir!
Ant. Hayty tayty, is it so indeed? with all my heart, faith! "Hey
then
up go we," faith—"hey then up go we," dum dum derum dump. [Sings.
Aquil. Signior.
Ant. Madonna.
Aquil. Do you intend to die in your bed?
Ant. About threescore years hence much may be done, my dear.
Aquil. You'll be hanged, signior.
Ant. Hanged, sweetheart! pr'ythee be quiet: hanged quoth-a! that's a
merry conceit, with all my heart; why, thou jokest, Nacky; thou art given to
joking, I'll swear; well, I protest, Nacky, nay, I must protest, and will
protest, that I love joking dearly, mun. And I love thee for joking, and I'll
kiss thee for joking, and towze thee for joking; and odd, I have a
devilish mind
to take thee aside about that business for joking too; odd I have, and, "Hey
then up go we," dum dum derum dump. [Sings.
Aquil. See you this, sir? [Draws a dagger.
Ant. O laud, a dagger! O laud! it is naturally my aversion, I cannot
endure the sight on't; hide it, for Heaven's sake, I cannot look that way till
it be gone—hide it, hide it, oh, oh, hide it!
Aquil. Yes, in your heart I'll hide it.
Ant. My heart! what, hide a dagger in my heart's blood?
Aquil. Yes, in thy heart, thy throat, thou pampered devil;
Thou'st helped to spoil my peace, and I'll have vengeance
On thy cursed life, for all the bloody Senate,
The perjured faithless Senate. Where's my lord,
My happiness, my love, my god, my hero,
Doomed by thy accursed tongue, amongst the rest,
To a shameful rack? By all the rage that's in me,
I'll be whole years in murdering thee.
Ant. Why, Nacky, wherefore so passionate? what have I done? what's
the
matter, my dear Nacky? Am not I thy love, thy happiness, thy
lord, thy hero, thy senator, and every thing in the world, Nacky?
Aquil. Thou! think'st thou, thou art fit to met my joys;
To bear the eager clasps of my embraces?
Give me my Pierre, or—
Ant. Why, he's to be hanged, little Nacky; trussed up for treason, and

so forth, child.
Aquil. Thou liest; stop down thy throat that hellish sentence,
Or 'tis thy last: swear that my love shall live,
Or thou art dead.
Ant. Ah!
Aquil. Swear to recall his doom;
Swear at my feet, and tremble at my fury.
Ant. I do. Now if she would but kick a little bit, one kick now; ah!
Aquil. Swear, or—
Ant. I do, by these dear fragrant foots, and little toes, sweet
as—e-e-e-e my Nacky, Nacky, Nacky.
Aquil. How!
Ant. Nothing but untie thy shoe-string a little, faith and troth,
that's all, that's all, as I hope to live, Nacky, that's all.
Aquil. Nay, then—
Ant. Hold, hold; thy love, thy lord, thy hero
Shall be preserved and safe.
Aquil. Or may this poniard
Rust in thy heart!
Ant. With all my soul.
Aquil. Farewell! [Exit.
Ant. Adieu! Why, what a bloody-minded, inveterate, termagant strumpet
have I been plagued with! Oh, yet more! nay then, I die, I die—I am dead
already. [Stretches himself out. Scene closes.

SCENE II.—A Street near PRIULI'S House.

Enter JAFFIER.

Jaff. Final destruction seize on all the world!
Bend down, ye Heavens, and, shutting round this earth,
Crush the vile globe into its first confusion;
Scorch it with elemental flames to one curst cinder,
And all us little creepers in't, called men,
Burn, burn, to nothing! but let Venice burn
Hotter than all the rest; here kindle hell
Ne'er to extinguish; and let souls hereafter
Groan here, in all those pains which mine feels now!

Enter BELVIDERA.

Belv. My life! [Meeting him.
Jaff. My plague! [Turning from her.
Belv. Nay, then I see my ruin,If I must die!
Jaff. No, Death's this day too busy;
Thy father's ill-timed mercy came too late.
I thank thee for thy labours though, and him too:
But all my poor, betrayed, unhappy friends
Have summons to prepare for fate's black hour;
And yet I live.
Belv. Then be the next my doom.
I see thou hast passed my sentence in thy heart,
And I'll no longer weep or plead against it;
But with the humblest, most obedient patience
Meet thy dear hands, and kiss them when they wound me.
Indeed I'm willing, but I beg thee do it
With some remorse; and, when thou givest the blow,
View me with eyes of a relenting love,
And show me pity, for 'twill sweeten justice.
Jaff. Show pity to thee?
Belv. Yes; and when thy hands,
Charged with my fate, come trembling to the deed,
As thou hast done a thousand thousand dear times
To this poor breast, when kinder rage has brought thee,
When our stinged hearts have leaped to meet each other,
And melting kisses sealed our lips together,
When joys have left me gasping in thy arms,
So let my death come now, and I'll not shrink from it.
Jaff. Nay, Belvidera, do not fear my cruelty,
Nor let the thoughts of death perplex thy fancy;
But answer me to what I shall demand,
With a firm temper and unshaken spirit.
Belv. I will when I've done weeping—
Jaff. Fie, no more on't.
How long is't since the miserable day
We wedded first?
Belv. Oh!
Jaff. Nay, keep in thy tears,
Lest they unman me too.
Belv. Heaven knows I cannot;
The words you utter sound so very sadly,
These streams will follow—
Jaff. Come, I'll kiss them dry then.
Belv. But was't a miserable day?
Jaff. A cursed one.
Belv. I thought it otherwise; and you've oft sworn
In the transporting hours of warmest love,
When sure you spoke the truth, you've sworn you blessed it.
Jaff. 'Twas a rash oath.
Belv. Then why am I not cursed too?
Jaff. No, Belvidera; by the eternal truth,
I dote with too much fondness.
Belv. Still so kind!
Still then do you love me?
Jaff. Nature, in her workings,
Inclines not with more ardour to creation,
Than I do now towards thee; man ne'er was blest,
Since the first pair first met, as I have been.
Belv. Then sure you will not curse me?
Jaff. No, I'll bless thee
I came on purpose, Belvidera, to bless thee.
'Tis now, I think, three years we've lived together.
Belv. And may no fatal minute ever part us,
Till reverend grown, for age and love, we go
Down to one grave, as our last bed, together;
There sleep in peace till an eternal morning!
Jaff. When will that be? [Sighing.
Belv. I hope long ages hence. Jaff. Have I not hitherto—I
beg thee tell me
Thy very fears—used thee with tenderest love?
Did e'er my soul rise up in wrath against thee?
Did I e'er frown when Belvidera smiled,
Or, by the least unfriendly word, betray
Abating passion? have I ever wronged thee?
Belv. No.
Jaff. Has my heart, or have my eyes e'er wandered
To any other woman?
Belv. Never, never.
I were the worst of false ones, should I accuse thee.
I own I've been too happy, blest above
My sex's charter.
Jaff. Did I not say I came
To bless thee?
Belv. Yes.
Jaff. Then hear me, bounteous Heaven!
Pour down your blessings on this beauteous head,
Where everlasting sweets are always springing:
With a continual-giving hand, let peace,
Honour, and safety always hover round her;
Feed her with plenty; let her eyes ne'er see
A sight of sorrow, nor her heart know mourning:
Crown all her days with joy, her nights with rest
Harmless as her own thoughts, and prop her virtue
To bear the loss of one that too much loved;
And comfort her with patience in our parting!
Belv. How, parting, parting!
Jaff. Yes, for ever parting;
I have sworn, Belvidera, by yon Heaven,
That best can tell how much I lose to leave thee,
We part this hour for ever.
Belv. Oh, call back
Your cruel blessing; stay with me and curse me!
Jaff. No; 'tis resolved.
Belv. Then hear me too, just Heaven!
Pour down your curses on this wretched head,
With never-ceasing vengeance; let despair,
Danger or infamy, nay, all surround me.
Starve me with wantings; let my eyes ne'er see
A sight of comfort, nor my heart know peace;
But dash my days with sorrow, nights with horrors
Wild as my own thoughts now, and let loose fury
To make me mad enough for what I lose,
If I must lose him—if I must! I will not.—
Oh, turn and hear me!
Jaff. Now hold, heart, or never.
Belv. By all the tender days we have lived together,
By all our charming nights, and joys that crowned them,
Pity my sad condition; speak, but speak!
Jaff. Oh!
Belv. By these arms that now cling round thy neck,
By this dear kiss, and by ten thousand more,
By these poor streaming eyes—
Jaff. Murder! unhold me!
By the immortal destiny that doomed me
[Draws his dagger.
To this cursed minute, I'll not live one longer.
Resolve to let me go, or see me fall—
Belv. Hold, sir, be patient.
Jaff. Hark, the dismal bell [Passing-bell tolls.
Tolls out for death! I must attend its call too;
For my poor friend, my dying Pierre expects me;
He sent a message to require I'd see him
Before he died, and take his last forgiveness.
Farewell for ever!
Belv. Leave thy dagger with me.
Bequeath me something.—Not one kiss at parting?
[JAFFIER, going out, looks back at her.
O my poor heart, when wilt thou break?
Jaff. Yet stay,
We have a child, as yet a tender infant:
Be a kind mother to him when I'm gone,
Breed him in virtue and the paths of honour,
But let him never know his father's story;
I charge thee guard him from the wrongs my fate
May do his future fortune, or his name.
Now—nearer yet! [Approaching each other.] Oh that my arms were
rivetted
Thus round thee ever! But my friends, my oath—
This, and no more. [Kisses her.
Belv. Another, sure another,
For that poor little one you've ta'en care of;
I'll give't him truly.
Jaff. So, now farewell.
Belv. For ever?
Jaff. Heaven knows for ever; all good angels guard thee! [Exit.
Belv. All ill ones sure had charge of me this moment.
Cursed be my days, and doubly cursed my nights,
Which I must now mourn out in widowed tears;
Blasted be every herb, and fruit, and tree;
Cursed be the rain that falls upon the earth,
And may the general curse reach man and beast!
Oh, give me daggers, fire, or water;
How I could bleed, how burn, how drown, the waves
Huzzing and booming round my sinking head,
Till I descended to the peaceful bottom!
Oh, there's all quiet, here all rage and fury;
The air's too thin, and pierces my weak brain;
I long for thick substantial sleep. Hell! hell!
Burst from the centre, rage and roar aloud,
If thou art half so hot, so mad as I am!

Enter PRIULI and Servants.

Who's there?
Priu. Run, seize and bring her safely home;
Guard her as you would life. Alas, poor creature!
[They seize her.
Belv. What! to my husband? then conduct me quickly.
Are all things ready? shall we die most gloriously?
Say not a word of this to my old father.
Murmuring streams, soft shades, and springing flowers,
Lutes, laurels, seas of milk, and ships of amber.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.—A Public Place. A scaffold and wheel in centre.

Enter Officers, PIERRE, and Guards, a Friar, Executioner,
and
a great Rabble.

Offi. Room, room there—stand all by, make room for the prisoner.
Pier. My friend not come yet?
Friar. Why are you so obstinate?
Pier. Why you so troublesome, that a poor wretch
Can't die in peace,
But you like ravens will be croaking round him?
Friar. Yet Heaven—
Pier. I tell thee Heaven and I are friends:
I ne'er broke peace with it yet, by cruel murders,
Rapine or perjury, or vile deceiving;
But lived in moral justice towards all men;
Nor am a foe to the most strong believers,
Howe'er my own short-sighted faith confine me.
Friar. But an all-seeing Judge—
Pier. You say my conscience
Must be my accuser: I have searched that conscience,
And find no records there of crimes that scare me.
Friar. 'Tis strange you should want faith.
Pier. You want to lead
My reason blindfold, like a hampered lion,
Checked of its nobler vigour; then, when baited
Down to obedient tameness, make it couch,
And show strange tricks, which you call signs of faith:
So silly souls are gulled, and you get money.
Away, no more! Captain, I'd have hereafter
This fellow write no lies of my conversion,
Because he has crept upon my troubled hours.

Enter JAFFIER.

Jaff. Hold: eyes, be dry; heart, strengthen me to bear
This hideous sight, and humble me to take
The last forgiveness of a dying friend,
Betrayed by my vile falsehood to his ruin!
O Pierre!
Pier. Yet nearer.
Jaff. Crawling on my knees,
And prostrate on the earth, let me approach thee:
How shall I look up to thy injured face,
That always used to smile with friendship on me?
It darts an air of so much manly virtue,
That I, methinks, look little in thy sight,
And stripes are fitter for me than embraces.
Pier. Dear to my arms, though thou'st undone my fame,
I can't forget to love thee: pr'ythee, Jaffier,
Forgive that filthy blow my passion dealt thee;
I'm now preparing for the land of peace,
And fain would have the charitable wishes
Of all good men, like thee, to bless my journey.
Jaff. Good! I'm the vilest creature, worse than e'er
Suffered the shameful fate thou'rt going to taste of.
Why was I sent for to be used thus kindly?
Call, call me villain, as I am; describe
The foul complexion of my hateful deeds;
Lead me to the rack, and stretch me in thy stead,
I've crimes enough to give it its full load,
And do it credit: thou wilt but spoil the use on't,
And honest men hereafter bear its figure
About them, as a charm from treacherous friendship.
Offi. The time grows short; your friends are dead already.
Jaff. Dead!
Pier. Yes, dead, Jaffier; they've all died like men too,
Worthy their character.
Jaff. And what must I do?
Pier. Oh, Jaffier!
Jaff. Speak aloud thy burthened soul,
And tell thy troubles to thy tortured friend!
Pier. Friend! Couldst thou yet be a friend, a generous friend,
I might hope comfort from thy noble sorrows.
Heaven knows I want a friend!
Jaff. And I a kind one,
That would not thus scorn my repenting virtue,
Or think, when he's to die, my thoughts are idle.
Pier. No! live, I charge thee, Jaffier.
Jaff. Yes, I will live,
But it shall be to see thy fall revenged
At such a rate as Venice long shall groan for.
Pier. Wilt thou?
Jaff. I will, by Heaven!
Pier. Then still thou'rt noble,
And I forgive thee. Oh—yet—shall I trust thee?
Jaff. No; I've been false already.
Pier. Dost thou love me?
Jaff. Rip up my heart, and satisfy thy doubtings.
Pier. Curse on this weakness! [He weeps.
Jaff. Tears! amazement! tears!
I never saw thee melted thus before;
And know there's something labouring in thy bosom
That must have vent: though I'm a villain, tell me.
Pier. Seest thou that engine?
[Pointing to the wheel.
Jaff. Why?
Pier. Is't fit a soldier, who has lived with honour,
Fought nations' quarrels, and been crowned with conquest,
Be exposed a common carcass on a wheel?
Jaff. Ha!
Pier. Speak! is't fitting?
Jaff. Fitting?
Pier. Yes, is't fitting?
Jaff. What's to be done?
Pier. I'd have thee undertake
Something that's noble, to preserve my memory
From the disgrace that's ready to attaint it.
Offi. The day grows late, sir.
Pier. I'll make haste. Oh, Jaffier,
Though thou'st betrayed me, do me some way justice.
Jaff. No more of that: thy wishes shall be satisfied;
I have a wife, and she shall bleed; my child too
Yield up his little throat, and all to appease thee—
[Going away, PIERRE holds him.
Pier. No—this—no more! [He whispers JAFFIER.
Jaff. Ha! is't then so?
Pier. Most certainly.
Jaff. I'll do it.
Pier. Remember.
Offi. Sir.
Pier. Come, now I'm ready.
[He and JAFFIER ascend the scaffold.
Captain, you should be a gentleman of honour;
Keep off the rabble, that I may have room
To entertain my fate, and die with decency.
Come! [Takes off his gown. Executioner prepares to bind him.
Friar. Son!
Pier. Hence, tempter!
Offi. Stand off, priest!
Pier. I thank you, sir.
You'll think on't. [To JAFFIER.
Jaff. 'Twon't grow stale before to-morrow.
Pier. Now, Jaffier! now I'm going. Now;—
Jaff. Have at thee,
[Executioner having bound him.
Thou honest heart, then—here! [Stabs him.] And this is well too.
[Stabs himself.
Friar. Damnable deed!
Pier. Now thou'st indeed been faithful.
This was done nobly. We have deceived the Senate.
Jaff. Bravely.
Pier. Ha, ha, ha! Oh, oh! [Dies.
Jaff. Now, ye cursed rulers,
Thus of the blood you've shed I make libation,
And sprinkle it mingling: may it rest upon you,
And all your race! Be henceforth peace a stranger
Within your walls! Let plagues and famine waste
Your generations!—O poor Belvidera!
Sir, I've a wife; bear this in safety to her,—
A token that with my dying breath I blessed her,
And the dear little infant left behind me.
I'm sick—I'm quiet— [Dies.
Offi. Bear this news to the Senate,
And guard their bodies till there's farther order:
Heaven grant I die so well! [The Scene closes.

SCENE IV.—A Room in PRIULI'S House.

Soft Music. Enter BELVIDERA distracted, led by two of her Women,
PRIULI, and Servants.

Priu. Strengthen her heart with patience, pitying Heaven!
Belv. Come, come, come, come—nay, come to bed,
Pr'ythee, my love. The winds! hark how they whistle!
And the rain beats: oh, how the weather shrinks me!
You're angry now; who cares? pish, no, indeed!
Choose then; I say you shall not go, you shall not.
Whip your ill-nature; get you gone then—oh!
[JAFFIER'S Ghost rises.
Are you returned? See, father, here he's come again:
Am I to blame to love him? O, thou dear one!
[Ghost sinks.
Why do you fly me? are you angry still then?
Jaffier! where art thou? Father, why do you do thus?
Stand off, don't hide him from me. He's here somewhere.
Stand off, I say! what, gone? remember it, tyrant!
I may revenge myself for this trick one day.
I'll do't—I'll do't. Renault's a nasty fellow:
Hang him, hang him, hang him!

Enter Officer and others.

Priu. News—what news? [Officer whispers PRIULI.
Offi. Most sad, sir.
Jaffier, upon the scaffold, to prevent
A shameful death, stabbed Pierre, and next himself:
Both fell together.
Priu. Daughter!
[The Ghosts of JAFFIER and PIERRE rise together, both
bloody.
Belv. Ha, look there!
My husband bloody, and his friend too! Murder!
Who has done this? speak to me, thou sad vision;
[Ghosts sink.
On these poor trembling knees I beg it. Vanished!—
Here they went down. Oh, I'll dig, dig the den up.
You shan't delude me thus. Ho, Jaffier, Jaffier,
Peep up and give me but a look. I have him!
I've got him, father: oh, now how I'll smuggle him!
My love! my dear! my blessing! help me! help me!
They've hold on me, and drag me to the bottom.
Nay—now they pull so hard—farewell! [Dies.
Maid. She's dead—
Breathless and dead.
Priu. Then guard me from the sight on't.
Lead me into some place that's fit for mourning,
Where the free air, light, and the cheerful sun
May never enter; hang it round with black;
Set up one taper that may last a day,
As long as I've to live; and there all leave me,—
Sparing no tears when you this tale relate;
But bid all cruel fathers dread my fate. [Exeunt.

EPILOGUE

THE text is done, and now for application,
And when that's ended, pass your approbation.
Though the conspiracy's prevented here,
Methinks I see another hatching there;
And there's a certain faction fain would sway,
If they had strength enough, and damn this play.
But this the author bade me boldly say:—
If any take his plainness in ill part,
He's glad on't from the bottom of his heart;
Poets in honour of the truth should write,
With the same spirit brave men for it fight;
And though against him causeless hatreds rise,
And daily where he goes of late, he spies
The scowls of sullen and revengeful eyes,
'Tis what he knows with much contempt to bear,
And serves a cause too good to let him fear.
He fears no poison from an incensed drab,
No ruffian's five-foot-sword, nor rascal's stab,
Nor any other snares of mischief laid,—
Not a Rose-alley cudgel-ambuscade,
From any private cause where malice reigns,
Or general pique all blockheads have to brains:
Nothing shall daunt his pen when truth does call—
No, not the picture-mangler at Guildhall.
The rebel tribe, of which that vermin's one,
Have now set forward, and their course begun;
And while that prince's figure they deface,
As they before had massacred his name,
Durst their base fears but look him in the face,
They'd use his person as they've used his fame:
A face in which such lineaments they read
Of that great martyr's, whose rich blood they shed,
That their rebellious hate they still retain,
And in his son would murder him again.
With indignation, then, let each brave heart
Rouse and unite to take his injured part;
Till Royal love and goodness call him home,
And songs of triumph meet him as he come;
Till Heaven his honour and our peace restore,
And villains never wrong his virtue more.

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