We'll all rejoice. Here's something to buy pins; Marriage is chargeable. [Gives him a purse.

Jaf. 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 had 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 he be honest ?

Jaf. 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

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 villainous inglorious enterprize,
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 it;
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.
Jaf. 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 free from those opprobrious wrongs,

all

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 bo-

som.

Jaf. When thou wouldst bind me, is there need of oaths?

For thou'rt so near my heart, that thou may'st see Its bottom, sound its strength and firmness to thee.

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 harmo-
nious.

Juf. What can I do?

Pier. Canst thou not kill a senator?

Jaf. 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!

Jaf. I do, by all those glittering stars, And yon 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. Fier. 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 'tis wildest.

Jaf. I give thee thanks

For this kind warning. Yes, I'll 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 shew 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!
Jaf. Revenge! revenge!

[Exeunt.

You are an Englishman: when treason's hatching,

One might have thought you'd not have been behindhand.

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.
Eli. Frenchman, you are saucy.
Ren. How!

Enter BEDAMAR the Ambassador, THEODORE,
BRAMVEIL, DURAND, BRABE, REVILLIDO,
MEZZANA, TERNON, 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 froward age its weakness.

Oh, 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. Oh, my Mars! The poets, that first feigned the god of war, Sure prophesied of thee.

Pier. Friend, 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 or hand amongst us,
But is firm and ready.

All. All.

We'll die with Bedamar.

Bed. O 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 main-

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 di-
ligence

Has still kept waking, and it shall have ease;
After this night it is resolved we meet
No more, till Venice owns 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.

Would
you
A hand, shall bear a lighted torch at noon
To the arsenal, and set its gates on fire.
Ren. You talk this well, sir.

behold this city flaming? here is

Jaf. 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 coun-
cils!

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

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! Hoa! my Belvidera!

Bed. What wonder is next?

Jaf. Let me entreat you,

As I have henceforth hopes to call you friends, That all but the ambassador, and this

Jaf. I know you'll wonder all, that thus, uncalled,

I dare approach this place of fatal councils;
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.

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 goodnight,

Jaf. Oh, 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.

Bel. Alas! where am I! whither is it 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!

Jaf. 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. Bel. 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!

Juf. Oh, friends!
Bel. Speak to me.

Jaf. 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.

Juf. 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.
Bel. 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. Juf. No, Belvidera, I have contrived thy ho

nour.

Trust to my faith, and be but fortune kind
To me, as I'll 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-

Bel. O! thou unkind one!

Ne'er meet more! have I deserved this from you?
Look on me, tell me, speak, thou fair deceiver!
Why am I separated from thy love?

If I am false, accuse me, but if true,
Don't, prithee don't, in poverty forsake me;
But pity the sad heart, that's torn with parting.
Yet hear me, yet recal me

[Exeunt REN. BED. and BEL.

Juf. Oh! 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.
Jaf. 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. Jaf. No!

Pier. Not for your life.

Jaf. Oh, Pierre, wert thou but she,
How I would 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.

SCENE I-A Chamber.

Enter BELVIDERA.

Bel. I'm sacrificed! I'm sold! betrayed to shame!

Inevitable ruin has enclosed 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 were intrusted, came,
(Like Tarquin) ghastly with infernal lust.
Oh, thou Roman Lucrece!

Thou could'st 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.

Juf. Can Belvidera want a resting-place, When these poor arms are ready to receive her? Oh! 'tis in vain to struggle with desires! Strong is my love to thee; for, every moment I'm from thy sight, the heart within my bosom Mourns, 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.

Bel. 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.

Jaf. There was a time-
Bel. Yes, yes, there was a time,

When Belvidera's tears, her cries, and sorrows,
Were not despised; when, if she chanced to sigh,
Or looked but sad-there was indeed a time,
When Jaffier would have ta'en her 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 winds, and as the rocks unshaken.
Jaf. Have I been deaf? Am I that rock un-
moved,

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 my love!
Could'st 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 would'st not, Belvidera, sure thou would'st
not,

Talk to me thus; but, like a pitying angel,
Spreading thy wings, come settle on my breast,
And hatch warm comforts there, ere sorrows
freeze it.

Bel. 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.
Jaf. Oh, Portia, Portia! What a soul was
thine?

Bel. 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 gav'st 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.
Jaf. Thou art too good, and I indeed unwor-
thy,

Unworthy so much virtue. Teach me how
I may deserve such matchless love as thine,
And see with what attention I'll obey thee.
Bel. Do not despise me: that's the all, I ask.
Jaf. Despise thee! Hear me-

Bel. 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.
Jaf. What shall I do?

Bel. 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 chuses 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.
Jaf. Oh, Belvidera!

Bel. Why was I last night delivered to a villain?

Jaf. Ha! a villain?

Bel. 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 to your honours, 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.

Jaf. Is this the Roman virtue? this the blood
That boasts its purity with Cato's daughter?
Would she have e'er betrayed her Brutus?
Bel. No:

For Brutus trusted her. Wert thou so kind, What would not Belvidera suffer for thee?

Jaf. I shall undo myself, and tell thee all. Bel. 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 learned them, And, bold as thou, can suffer or despise The worst of fates for thee, and with thee share them.

Jaf. 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 should'st betray me!-

Bel. Shall I swear?

Jaf. No, do not swear: I would not violate Thy tender nature, with so rude a bond: But as thou hop'st to see me live my days,