ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE I.THE RIALTO.
Enter Jaffier and Belvidera.
Jaf. Where dost thou lead me? Every step I move,
Methinks I tread upon some mangled limb
Of a rack'd friend. O, my charming ruin!
Where are we wandering?
Bel. To eternal honour.
To do a deed shall chronicle thy name
Among the glorious legends of those few
That have sav'd sinking nations. Thy renown
Shall be the future song of all the virgins,
Who by thy piety have been preserv'd
From horrid violation. Every street
Shall be adorn'd with statues to thy honour;
And at thy feet this great inscription written,
Remember him that propp'd the fall of Venice.
Jaf. 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 reliev'd him.
Why wilt thou damn me?
Bel. Oh, inconstant man!
How will you promise; how will you deceive!
Do, return back, replace me in my bondage,
Tell all my friends how dangerously thou lov'st me,
And let thy dagger do its bloody office.
Or, if thou think'st it nobler, let me live,
Till I'm a victim to the hateful lust
Of that infernal devil.
Last night, my love!
Jaf. Name it not again;
It shows a beastly image to my fancy,
Will wake me into madness.
Destruction, swift destruction, fall on my coward head.
Bel. Delay no longer then, but to the senate,
And tell the dismal'st story ever utter'd:
Tell 'em what bloodshed, rapines, desolations,
Have been prepar'd: 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.
Jaf. Oh! think what then may prove my lot;
By all heav'n's powers, prophetic truth dwells in thee;
For every word thou speak'st, strikes through my heart.
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 renew'd;
If I relapse once more, all's lost for ever.
Bel. Hast thou a friend more dear than Belvidera?
Jaf. No; thou'rt my soul itself; wealth, friendship, honour,
All present joys, and earnest of all future,
Are summ'd in thee.
Come, lead me forward, now, like a tame lamb
To sacrifice. Thus, in his fatal garlands
Deck'd fine and pleas'd, the wanton skips and plays,
Trots by th' enticing, flatt'ring, priestess' side,
And, much transported with its 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?
Bel. Friends.
Offi. But what friends are you?
Bel. 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 'em to the council,
Who are now sitting.
Jaf. Sir, you shall be obey'd.
Now the lot's cast, and, fate, do what thou wilt.
[exeunt, guarded.
SCENE II. THE SENATE-HOUSE.
Duke of Venice, Priuli, and other Senators.
Duke. Antony, Priuli, senators of Venice,
Speak, why are we assembled here to night?
What have you to inform us of, concerns
The state of Venice' honour, or its safety?
Pri. 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 heav'n.
Heav'n knows, if yet there be an hour to come
Ere Venice be no more.
All Sen. How!
Pri. Nay, we stand
Upon the very brink of gaping ruin.
Within this city's form'd 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 fix'd;
The swords, for aught I know, drawn e'en this moment,
And the wild waste begun. From unknown hands
I had this warning; but, if we are men,
Let's not be tamely butcher'd, but do something
That may inform the world, in after ages,
Our virtue was not ruin'd, though we were.[noise.
Room, room, make room for some prisoners—
Enter Officer and Guards.
Duke. Speak, there. What disturbance?
Offi. Two prisoners have the guards seiz'd in the street,
Who say they come t' inform this reverend senate
About the present danger.
Enter Jaffier and Officer.
All Sen. Give 'em entrance.—Well, who are you?
Jaf. A villain!
Would every man, that hears me,
Would deal so honestly, and own his title.
Duke. 'Tis rumour'd, that a plot has been contriv'd
Against this state; and you've a share in't too.
If you are a villain, to redeem your honour
Unfold the truth, and be restor'd with mercy.
Jaf. Think not, that I to save my life came hither;
I know its value better; but in pity
To all those wretches whose unhappy dooms
Are fix'd and seal'd. 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.
Jaf. That you dare not do;
Your fear won't let you, not the longing itch
To hear the story which you dread the truth of:
Truth, which the fear of smart shall ne'er get from me.
Cowards are scar'd with threat'nings; boys are whipt
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 heav'n 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.
Duke. Name your conditions.
Jaf. For myself full pardon,
Besides the lives of two-and-twenty friends,
Whose names are here enroll'd. 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 ratify'd. Swear this,
And I'll unfold the secret of your danger.
Duke. Propose the oath.
Jaf. By all the hopes
Ye have of peace and happiness hereafter,
Swear.—Ye swear?
All Sen. We swear.
Jaf. And, as ye keep the oath,
May you and your posterity be bless'd,
Or curs'd for ever.
All Sen. Else be curs'd for ever.
Jaf. Then here's the list, and with't the full disclose
Of all that threatens you.[delivers a paper.
Now, fate, thou hast caught me.
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 fam'd Grecian courtezan,
Call'd Aquilina; see that place secur'd.
You, Jaffier, must with patience bear till morning
To be our prisoner.
Jaf. Would the chains of death
Had bound me safe, ere I had known this minute.
Duke. Captain, withdraw your prisoner.
Jaf. 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?[exit.
Offi. [without]
More traitors; room, 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,
Seiz'd in the very act of consultation;
Furnish'd with arms and instruments of mischief,
Bring in the prisoners.
Enter Pierre, Renault, Theodore, Elliott, Revillido, and
other Conspirators, in fetters.
Pier. You, my lords, and fathers
(As you are pleas'd 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 labour'd in your service?
Are these the wreaths of triumph ye bestow
On those, that bring you conquest home, and honours?
Duke. Go on; you shall be heard, sir.
Ant. And be hang'd too, I hope.
Pier. Are these the trophies I've deserv'd for fighting
Your battles with confederated powers?
When winds and seas conspir'd 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, plough'd,
Like a lewd whore, by bolder prows than yours,
Stepp'd not I forth, and taught your loose Venetians
The task of honour, and the way to greatness?
Rais'd 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
And brave enough to tell me I'm a traitor.
Duke. Know you one Jaffier?[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.
Enter Jaffier, guarded.
Duke. See him brought forth.
Pier. My friend too bound! nay then
Our fate has conquer'd 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 traitors. Art thou one, my brother?
Jaf. To thee, I am the falsest, veriest slave,
That e'er betray'd a generous, trusting friend,
And gave up honour to be sure of ruin.
All our fair hopes, which morning was t' have crown'd,
Has this curs'd 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. Curs'd be your senate: curs'd your constitution:
The curse of growing factions and divisions
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;
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 lodg'd hard
To do the senate service.
Jaf. Hold, one moment.
Pier. Who's he disputes the judgment of the senate?
Presumptuous rebel—on—[strikes Jaffier.
Jaf. By heav'n, you stir not!
I must be heard; I must have leave to speak.
Thou hast disgrac'd 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:
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:
Leave, hypocrite.
Jaf. Not know me, Pierre?
Pier. No, I know thee not! What art thou?
Jaf. Jaffier, thy friend, thy once lov'd, valu'd friend!
Though now deserv'dly scorn'd, and us'd most hardly.
Pier. Thou, Jaffier! thou, my once lov'd, valu'd friend!
By heav'ns thou liest; the man so call'd, 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 chill'd at.
Jaf. I have not wrong'd thee, by these tears I have not.
Pier. Hast thou not wrong'd me? Dar'st thou call thyself
That once lov'd, valu'd friend of mine,
And swear thou hast not wrong'd me? Whence these chains?
Whence the vile death which I may meet this moment?
Whence this dishonour, but from thee, thou false one?
Jaf. All's true; yet grant one thing, and I've done asking.
Pier. What's that?
Jaf. To take thy life, on such conditions
The counsel have propos'd: 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 cursed 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.
Jaf. By all that's just—
Pier. Swear by some other power,
For thou hast broke that sacred oath too lately.
Jaf. Then, by that hell I merit, I'll not leave thee,
Till, to thyself, at least thou'rt reconcil'd,
However thy resentment deal with me.
Pier. Not leave me!
Jaf. 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 'em, though they spurn me;
Till, wounded by my sufferings, thou relent,
And raise me to thy arms, with dear forgiveness.
Pier. Art thou not—
Jaf. What?
Pier. A traitor?
Jaf. Yes.
Pier. A villain?
Jaf. Granted.
Pier. A coward, a most scandalous coward;
Spiritless, void of honour; one who has sold
Thy everlasting fame, for shameless life?
Jaf. All, all, and more, much more: my faults are numberless.
Pier. And wouldst thou have me live on terms like thine;
Base, as thou art false—
Jaf. No; 'tis to me that's granted:
The safety of thy life was all I aim'd at,
In recompense for faith and trust so broken.
Pier. I scorn it more, because preserv'd by thee;
And as, when first my foolish heart took pity
On thy misfortunes, sought thee in thy miseries,
Reliev'd thy wants, and rais'd thee from the state
Of wretchedness, in which thy fate had plung'd thee,
To rank thee in my list of noble friends,
All I receiv'd, in surety for thy truth,
Were unregarded oaths, and this, this dagger,
Giv'n with a worthless pledge, thou since hast stol'n,—
So I restore it back to thee again;
Swearing, by all those pow'rs which thou hast violated,
Never, from this curs'd 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.
Jaf. Say thou wilt live then.
Pier. For my life, dispose it
Just as thou wilt, because 'tis what I'm tir'd with.
Jaf. Oh, Pierre!
Pier. No more.
Jaf. My eyes won't lose the sight of thee,
But languish after thee, 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.[exit.
Jaf. Amen.
He's gone, my father, friend, preserver,
And here's the portion he has left me:[shows the dagger.
This dagger. Well remember'd! with this dagger,
I gave a solemn vow of dire importance;
Parted with this, and Belvidera together.
Have a care, mem'ry, drive that thought no further:
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, call'd a traitor, villain,
Coward, dishonourable coward; fough!
Oh! for a long sound sleep, and so forget it.
Down, busy devil!
Enter Belvidera.
Bel. 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 us'd to smile, ev'n on my faults; but, down,
Bending these miserable eyes on earth,
Must move in penance, and implore much mercy.
Jaf. Mercy! kind heav'n has surely endless stores,
Hoarded for thee, of blessings yet untasted:
Oh, Belvidera! I'm the wretched'st creature
E'er crawl'd on earth.
My friend too, Belvidera, that dear friend,
Who, next to thee, was all my health rejoic'd in,
Has us'd me like a slave, shamefully us'd me:
'Twould break thy pitying heart to hear the story.
Bel. What has he done?
Jaf. 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,
As at his feet I kneel'd and su'd for mercy,
With a reproachful hand he dash'd a blow:
He struck me, Belvidera! by heav'n, he struck me!
Buffetted, call'd me traitor, villain, coward.
Am I a coward? Am I a villain? Tell me:
Thou'rt the best judge, and mad'st me, if I am so!
Damnation! Coward!
Bel. Oh! forgive him, Jaffier;
And, if his sufferings wound thy heart already,
What will they do to-morrow?
Jaf. Ah!
Bel. To-morrow,
When thou shalt see him stretch'd 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.
Jaf. What means thy dreadful story?
Death, and to-morrow! Broken limbs and bowels!
Bel. 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 promis'd mercy all has forfeited:
False to their oaths, and deaf to intercession,
Warrants are pass'd for public death to-morrow.
Jaf. Death! doom'd to die! condemn'd unheard! unpleaded!
Bel. Nay, cruel'st racks and torments are preparing
To force confession from their dying pangs.
Oh! do not look so terribly upon me!
How your lips shake, and all your face disorder'd!
What means my love?
Jaf. Leave me, I charge thee, leave me.—Strong temptations
Wake in my heart.
Bel. For what?
Jaf. No more, but leave me.
Bel. Why?
Jaf. Oh! by heav'n, I love thee with that fondness,
I would not have thee stay a moment longer
Near these curs'd hands. Are they not cold upon thee?
[pulls the dagger half out of his bosom, and puts it back again.
Bel. No, everlasting comfort's in thy arms.
To lean thus on thy breast, is softer ease
Than downy pillows, deck'd with leaves of roses.
Jaf. Alas! thou think'st not of the thorns 'tis fill'd with:
Fly, ere they gall thee. There's a lurking serpent,
Ready to leap and sting thee to the heart:
Art thou not terrified?
Bel. No.
Jaf. Call to mind
What thou hast done, and whither thou hast brought me.
Bel. Hah!
Jaf. 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 fix'd him on the wheel,
And now they tear him.—Murder! Perjur'd senate!
Murder.—Oh!—Hark thee, traitress, thou hast done this!
Thanks to thy tears, and false persuading love.
How her eyes speak! Oh, thou bewitching creature!
[fumbling for his dagger.
Madness can't hurt thee. Come, thou little trembler,
Creep even into my heart, and there lie safe:
'Tis thy own citadel.—Hah—yet stand off.
Heav'n must have justice, and my broken vows
Will sink me else beneath its reaching mercy.
I'll wink, and then 'tis done—
Bel. 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?
[draws the dagger and offers to stab her.
Jaf. Know, Belvidera, when we parted last,
I gave this dagger with thee, as in trust,
To be thy portion if I e'er prov'd false.
On such condition, was my truth believ'd:
But now 'tis forfeited, and must be paid for.
[offers to stab her again.
Bel. Oh! Mercy![kneeling.
Jaf. Nay, no struggling.
Bel. Now then, kill me.[leaps on his neck, kisses him.
Jaf. I am, I am a coward; witness, heav'n,
Witness it, earth, and every being, witness:
'Tis but one blow! yet, by immortal love,
I cannot longer bear a thought to harm thee.
[he 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 me o'er thy 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 th' arms, torture him with thy softness;
Nor, till thy prayers are granted, set him free,
But conquer him, as thou hast conquer'd me.[exeunt.