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.