Scene I.—A Room in the House of Aquilina. Enter Belvidera, L. S. E.
Bel. I'm sacrificed! I'm sold—betrayed to shame!
inevitable ruin has enclosed me!
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, R.
Jaf. (R. C.) Can Belvidera want a resting-place,
When these poor arms are open to receive her?
There was a time—
Bel. (C.) 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 her in his arms,
Eased her declining head upon his breast,
And never left her, till he found the cause.
But well I know why you forsake me thus;
I am no longer fit to bear a share
In your concernments: my weak female virtue
Must not be trusted: 'tis too frail and tender. [Crosses, R.
Jaf. Oh, Portia, Portia, what a soul was thine!
Bel. [Returns to L. C.] That Portia was a woman; and
when Brutus,
Big with the fate of Rome (Heav'n 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. (R.) Oh, Belvidera!
Bel. (C.) Why was I last night delivered to a villain?
Jaf. Ha! a villain?
Bel. (R.) 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 honours, I bequeath her,
And with her, this: Whene'er I prove unworthy—
You know the rest—then strike it to her heart."
Oh! [Turns from him.] 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, [Going, L. All that I think, all that my fears inform me.
Jaf. (C.) Is this the Roman virtue? this the blood,
That boasts its purity with Cato's daughter?
Would she have e'er betrayed her Brutus? [Going to her
Bel. (L.) No;
For Brutus trusted her. [Leans on him.] Wert thou so kind,
What would not Belvidera suffer for thee?
Jaf. I shall undo myself, and tell thee all—
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—
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,
And love thee long, lock this within thy breast:
I've bound myself, by all the strictest sacraments,
Divine and human—
Bel. Speak!
Jaf. To kill thy father—
Bel. My father! [Part.]
Jaf. Nay, the throats of the whole senate
Shall bleed, my Belvidera. He, amongst us,
That spares his father, brother, or his friend,
Is damned.
Bel. Oh!
Jaf. Have a care, and shrink not even in thought
For, if thou dost—
Bel. (L. C.) 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?
[Leans on him
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,
Join such a crew, and take a ruffian's wages,
To cut the throats of wretches as they sleep? [Part.
Jaf. (R. C.) 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 among them,
But's stout as death, yet honest as the nature
Of man first made, ere fraud and vice were fashion.
Bel. (L.) What's he, to whose cursed hands last night
thou gav'st 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!
Jaf. (C.) Speak on, I charge thee!
Bel. Oh, my love! [Leaning on him,] if e'er
Thy Belvidera's peace deserved thy care,
Remove me from this place. Last night! last night!
Jaf. Distract me not, but give me all the truth!
Bel. No sooner wert thou gone, and I alone,
Left in the power of that old son of mischief;
No sooner was I laid on my sad bed,
But that vile wretch approached me. 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, wast gone!
Jaf. [Turning, R.] Patience, sweet Heaven, till I make
vengeance sure!
Bel. He drew the hideous dagger forth, thou gav'st him,
And, with upbraiding smiles, he said, "Behold it:
This is the pledge of a false husband's love:"
And in his 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.
[Rush into each other's arms.
These are thy friends! [Part]with
these thy life: thy honour,
Thy love, all staked—and all will go to ruin!
Jaf. (C.) 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.
Bel. (L.) Oh! should I part with thee, I fear thou wilt
In anger leave me, and return no more.
Jaf. Return no more! I would not live without thee
Another night, to purchase the creation.
Bel. When shall we meet again?
Jaf. Anon, at twelve,
I'll steal myself to thy expecting arms:
Come, like a travelled dove, and bring thee peace.
Bel. Indeed!
Jaf. By all our loves!
Bel. 'Tis hard to part:
But sure no falsehood ever looked so fairly.
Farewell! remember twelve. [Exit, L. D.
Jaf. (C.) Let Heav'n forget me,
When I remember not thy truth, thy love!
Enter Pierre, R.
Pierre. Jaffier!
Jaf. (L.) Who calls?
Pierre. (R. C.) A friend, that could have wished
T' have found thee otherwise employed. "What, hunt
A wife, on the dull soil! Sure, a stanch husband,
Of all hounds is the dullest. Wilt thou never,
Never be weaned from caudles and confections?
What feminine tales hast thou been listening to,
Of unaired shirts? catarrhs, and tooth-ache, got
By thin-soled shoes? Damnation! than a fellow,
Chosen to be a sharer in the destruction
Of a whole people, should sneak thus in corners,
To waste his time, and fool his mind with love!
Jaf. (L. C.) May not a man, then, trifle out an hour
With a kind woman, and not wrong his calling!
Pierre. (R.) Not in a cause like ours.
Jaf. 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've found him out at watering for my wife;
He visited her last night, like a kind guardian;
Faith, she has some temptations, that's the truth on't.
Pierre. (R. C.) He durst not wrong his trust!
Jaf. 'Twas something late, though,
To take the freedom of a lady's chamber.
Pierre. Was she in bed?
Jaf. Yes, 'faith! in virgin sheets,
"White as her bosom, Pierre; dished neatly up,—
"Might tempt a weaker appetite to taste."
Pierre. Patience guide me!
He used no violence?
Jaf. No, no: out on't, violence!
Played with her neck; brushed her with his grey beard;
Struggled and touzed; tickled her till she squeaked a little,
May be, or so—but not a jot of violence—
Pierre. [Runs to R. D.] Damn him!
Jaf. Ay, so say I: but, hush, no more on't!
Sure it is near the hour
We all should meet for our concluding orders:
Will the ambassador be here in person?
Pierre. (R. C.) No, he has sent commission to that villain.
Ren. 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.
Jaf. (C.) Fear not; I'm cool as patience.
Pierre. He's yonder, coming this way, through the hall:
His thoughts seem full.
Jaf. 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.
Pierre. Be careful, then.
Jaf. Nay, never doubt, but trust me.
[Exit Pierre, R. U. E.
What! be a devil, take a damning oath
For shedding native blood? Can there be sin,
In merciful repentance? Oh, this villain! [Retires up, C.
Enter Renault, L. U. E.
Ren. (L. C.) 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?
Jaf. A man. [Advancing
Ren. My friend, my near ally,
The hostage of your faith, my beauteous charge, is very
well.
Jaf. (R. C.) 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!
Jaf. Oh! women have fantastic constitutions,
Inconstant in their wishes, always wavering,
And never fixed. Was it not boldly done,
Ev'n 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!
Jaf. Cursed be he 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!
Jaf. Ay, know thee.—There's no falsehood in thee;
Thou look's just as thou art. Let us embrace.—
Now, wouldst thou cut my throat, or I cut thine!
Ren. You dare not do't!
Jaf. You lie, sir!
Ren. How!
Jaf. No more.—
'Tis a base world, and must reform; that's all.
Enter Spinosa, Elliot, Theodore, Durand,
and Mezzana.
Ren. Spinosa, Theodore, you are welcome.
Spin. You are trembling, sir.
Ren. 'Tis a cold night, indeed; and I am aged;
Full of decay, and natural infirmities.
We shall be warm, my friends, I hope, to-morrow.
[Renault and Conspirators retire and confer.
Enter Pierre, r.
Pierre. [To Jaffier.] 'T was not well done; thou shouldst
have stroked him,
And not have galled him. [Retires to the others
Jaf. (C.) [In front.] Damn him, let him chew on't!
Heav'n! where am I? beset with cursed fiends,
That wait to damn me! What a devil's man,
When he forgets his nature!—hush, my heart.
[Renault and the Conspirators advance
Ren. My friends, 'tis late: are we assembled all?
Spin. All—all!
Ren. (C.) 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?
Pierre. 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:
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.
Jaf. (L.) [Aside.] Oh, 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;
This done, we'll give the general alarm,
Apply petards, and force the ars'nal gates;
Then fire the city round in several places,
Or with our cannon, if it dare resist,
Batter to ruin. But, above all, I charge you,
Shed blood enough; spare neither sex nor age,
Name nor condition: if there lives 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.
Jaf. [Aside to R.] Merciless, horrid slave! 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 sep'rate us forever:
But let us 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.
You droop, sir. [To Jaffier.
Jaf. (L. C.) No: with most profound attention
I've heard it all, and wonder at thy virtue.
Ren. 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.
Jaf. (L.) [Aside,] Oh, Belvidera! take me to thy arms,
Ard show me where's my peace, for I have lost it.
[Exit, L. D.
Ren. (L. C.) Without the least remorse, then, let's resolve
With fire and sword t'exterminate these tyrants,
Under whose weight this wretched country labours.
Pierre. (R.) And may those Powers above, that are propitious
To gallant minds, record this cause, and bless it!
Ren. (L.) Thus happy, thus secure of all we wish for,
Should there, my friends, be found among us one
False to this glorious enterprise, what fate,
What vengeance, were enough for such a villain!
Elliot. (R. C.) Death here, without repentance—hell
hereafter!
Ren. (C.) Let that be my lot, if, as here I stand,
Listed by fate among her darling sons,
Tho' I had one only brother, dear by all
The strictest ties of nature,
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! Would'st thou not, Pierre, the same?
Pierre. 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. (R. C.) 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.
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—
Pierre. Well? [Goes to Renault
Ren. And I could wish it—
Pierre. Where?
Ren. Buried in his heart.
Pierre. Away! we're yet all friends.—
No more of this; 'twill breed ill blood among 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.
Pierre. (L.) Who talks of killing] Who's he'll shed
the blood,
That's dear to me? I'st you, or you, or you, sir?
[Passing from L. to R.
What! not one speak? how you stand gaping all
On your grave oracle, your wooden god there!
Yet not a word? Then, sir, I'll tell you a secret;
Suspicion's but at best a coward's virtue. [To Renault.
Ren. (C.) A coward! [Handles his sword.
Pierre. (R.) 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.
Pierre. Again! Who's that?
Spin. 'Twas I.
Theo. And I.
Ren. And I.
Spin. And all.
Let's die like men, and not be sold like slaves.
Pierre. (C.) 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 sheaths?
Why do you not all brandish them like mine?
You fear to die, and yet dare talk of killing. [Going, L.
Ren. (R. C.) Go to the senate, and betray us—haste!
Secure thy wretched life; we fear to die
Less than thou dar'st be honest.
Pierre. That's rank falsehood.
Fear'st thou not death? Fie, there's a knavish itch
In that salt blood, an utter foe to smarting!
Had Jaffier's wife proved kind, he'd still been true.
Faugh—how that stinks!
[Exit Renault, R.
"Thou die? thou kill my friend?
"Or thou? with that lean, withered, wretched face!"
Away, disperse all to your several charges,
And meet to-morrow, where your honour calls you.
[Retiring to M. D.
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!
Spin. I fear we've been to blame,
And done too much.
Theo. 'Twas too far urged against the man you love
Elliot. Forgive us, gallant friend.
Pierre. [Advancing.] 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 best jewel;
But would not have him torn away by villains,
And spiteful villainy.
Spin. [And other Conspirators stand, R.] No; may ye both
Forever live, and fill the world with fame!
Pierre. Now, you're too kind. Whence arose all this discord?
Oh! what a dangerous precipice have we 'scaped!
How near a fall was all we'd long been building!
What an eternal blot had stained our glories,
If one, the bravest and the best of men,
Had fall'n 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,
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 Conspirators, R., Pierre L
END OF ACT III.
ACT IV.
Scene I.—A Street.
Enter Belvidera and Jaffier, L.
Jaf. (L. C.) Where dost thou lead me? Ev'ry step I move,
Methinks I tread upon some mangled limb
Of a racked friend. Oh, my dear, charming ruin!
Whare are we wandering?
Bel. (R. C.) To eternal honour!
To do a deed, shall chronicle thy name
Among the glorious legends of those few
That have saved sinking nations. Every street
Shall be adorned with statues to thy honour:
And, at thy feet, this great inscription written—
"Remember him, thai propped 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 relieved 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 thy 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 will
Of that infernal devil!
Last night, my love—
Jaf. Name, name it not again:
Destruction, swift destruction,
Fall on my coward head, if
I forgive him!
Bel. Delay no longer, then, but to the senate,
And tell the dismal'st story ever uttered;
Tell them what bloodshed, rapines, desolations,
Have been prepared;—how near's the fatal hour.
Save thy poor country, save the rev'rend blood
Of all its nobles, which to-morrow's dawn
Must else see shed!
Jaf. Oh!
Bel. 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.
Jaf. By all Heav'n'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't 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 friends? Ah! take me quickly,
Secure me well before that thought's renewed;
If I relapse once more, all's lost forever.
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 summed in thee. [Going, R.
Enter Captain and Guards, R. S. E.
Capt. Stand! who goes there?
Bel. Friends.
Capt. But what friends are you?
Bel. Friends to the senate, and the state of Venice.
Capt. My orders are, to seize on all I find
At this late hour, and bring them to the council,
Who are now sitting.
Jaf. Sir, you shall be obeyed.
Now the lot's cast, and, fate, do what thou wilt.
[Exeunt Jaffier and Belvidera, guarded.
Scene II.—The Senate House.
The Duke of Venice, Priuli, and other Senators
discovered, sitting.
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?
Priuli. (R.) 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:
Heav'n knows, if yet there be an hour to come,
Ere Venice be no more.
Duke. How!
Priuli. 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 ev'n 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.
[A noise within, L.
Capt. [Within] Room, room, make room there for some
prisoners!
Enter Officer, L.
Duke. Speak, speak, there! What disturbance?
Officer. A prisoner have the guards seized in the street,
Who says, he comes to inform this reverend council
About the present danger.
Enter Officer, Jaffier Captain, and Guards, L.
All. Give him entrance.—[Exit Officer.] Well, who ate
you?
Jaf. (L.) A villain!
Would, every man that hears me,
Would deal so honestly, and own his title!
Duke. 'Tis rumored, that a plot has been contrived
Against the state, and you've a share in't, too.
If you're a villain, to redeem your honour,
Unfold the truth, and be restored 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 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.
Jaf. 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 threat'nings; 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 heav'n, I'll shut these lips forever!
Nor all your racks, your engines, or your wheels,
Shall force a groan away, that you may guess at!
[Crosses, M.
Duke. Name your conditions.
Jaf. (R.) For myself, full pardon,
Besides, the lives of two-and-twenty friends,
Whose names I have 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.
Duke. Propose the oath.
Jaf. (C.) By all the hopes
You have of peace and happiness hereafter,
Swear!
Duke. We swear.
Jaf. And, as ye keep the oath,
May you and your posterity be blessed,
Or cursed, forever!
Duke. Else be cursed forever
Jaf. Then here's the list, and with't, the full disclosure
[Delivers two papers to the Officer, who delivers them to
the Duke.
Of all that threaten you.
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 the famed Grecian courtesan,
Called Aquilina; see that place secured.
You, Jaffier, must with patience bear till morning
To be our prisoner.
Jaf. Would the chains of death
Had bound me fast, ere I had known this minute!
Duke. Captain, withdraw your prisoner.
Jaf. Sir, [To Officer,] 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, guarded, R
Officer. [Without.] More traitors! room, room, room,
make room there!
Duke. How's this?
The treason's
Already at the doors!
Enter Officer and Captain, L.
Officer. My lords, more traitors!
Seized in the very act of consultation:
Furnished with arms and instruments of mischief.—
Bring in the prisoners!
Enter Spinosa, Elliot, Theodore, Durand, Mezzana,
Renault, and Pierre, in Chains, L.
Pierre. (L.) You, my lords and fathers,
(As you are pleased to call yourselves,) of Venice;
If you set 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 triumph you bestow
On those that bring you conquest home, and honours?
Duke. Go on! you shall be heard, sir.
Pierre. (L. C.) 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:
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 recompence! 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!
[Goes to the table.
Duke. Know you one Jaffier?
Pierre. 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.
Enter Captain, with Jaffier in Chains, R.
Pierre. 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
Do call us traitors. Art thou one, my brother?
Jaf. (R. C.) 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've crowned,
Has this cursed tongue o'erthrown.
Pierre. (C.) So, then, all's over:
Venice has lost her freedom, I my life.
No more! [Crosses, L.
Duke. Say; will you make confession
Of your vile deeds, and trust the senate's mercy!
Pierre. [Returns to C.] Cursed be your senate, cursed
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?
Pierre. Death! honourable death!
Ren. (L.) Death's the best thing we ask, or you can
give.
Duke. Break up the council. Captain, guard your prisoners.
Jaffier, you're free; but these must wait for judgment.
[Exeunt Duke, Senators, Conspirators, and Officer.
Pierre. (C.) 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.
Jaf. (R. C.) Hold, one moment.
Pierre. Who's he disputes the judgment of the senate?
Presumptuous rebel!—on— [Strikes Jaffier
Jaf. (C.) By Heaven, you stir not!
[Exeunt Captain and Guards, R.
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 I
But use me as thou wilt, thou can'st not wrong me,
For I am fallen beneath the basest injuries;
Yet look upon me with an eye of mercy,
And, as there dwells a godlike nature in thee,
Listen with mildness to my supplications.
Pierre. (R. C.) What whining monk art thou? what
holy cheat,
That would'st encroach upon my credulous ears,
And cant'st thus vilely! Hence! I know thee not!
Jaf. Not know me, Pierre!
Pierre. No, know thee not. What art thou?
Jaf. Jaffier, thy friend, thy once loved, valued friend!
Tho' now deservedly scorned, and used most hardly.
Pierre. Thou, Jaffier! thou, my once-loved, valued
friend!
By heavens, thou ly'st; 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.
Jaf. I have not wronged thee; by these tears I have
not!
Pierre. Hast thou not wronged me I Dar'st thou call
thyself
That once-loved, honest, 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?
Jaf. All's true; yet grant one thing, and I've done asking.
Pierre. What's that?
Jaf. To take thy life, on such conditions
The council have proposed: thou, and thy friends,
May yet live long, and to be better treated.
Pierre. 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,
Burdensome 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 art fit to live in't.
Jaf. By all that's just—
Pierre. 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 reconciled,
However thy resentments deal with me.
Pierre. 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, [Falls on his knees,] and kiss them tho
they spurn me;
Till, wounded by my sufferings, thou relent,
And raise me to thy arms with dear forgiveness.
Pierre. Art thou not—
Jaf. What?
Pierre. A traitor?
Jaf. Yes.
Pierre. A villain?
Jaf. Granted.
Pierre. A coward, a most scandalous coward;
Spiritless, void of honour; one who has sold
Thy everlasting fame, for shameless life?
Jaf. [Rising and turning, R.] All, all, and more, much
more; my faults are numberless.
Pierre. And would'st thou have me live on terms like
thine?
Base, as thou'rt false—
Jaf. [Returning.] No; 'tis to me that's granted;
The safety of thy life was all I aimed at,
In recompence for faith and trust so broken.
Pierre. 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 the 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 stol'n:
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.
Jaf. Say thou wilt live, then.
Pierre. For my life, dispose it
Just as thou wilt, because 'tis what I'm tired with.
Jaf. Oh, Pierre!
Pierre. No more. [Going, R.
Jaf. My eyes won't lose the sight of thee, [Following. But languish after thine, and ache with gazing.
Pierre. Leave me—Nay, then, thus, thus I throw thee
from me;
And curses, great as is thy falsehood, catch thee!
[Drives him to C.—Exit, R.
Jaf. [Pausing.] He's gone, my father, friend, preserver
And here's the portion he has left me:
This dagger. Well remembered! 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 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!
Oh, for a long, sound sleep, and so forget it!
Down, busy devil!
Enter Belvidera, L.
Bel. (L.) 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.
Jaf. (R. C.) 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 burden,
"Before the footstool of that Heav'n they've injured."
Oh, Belvidera! I'm the wretched'st creature
E'er crawled on earth.
Bel. (L. C.) Alas! I know thy sorrows are most mighty
Jaf. My friend, too, Belvidera, that dear friend,
Who, next to thee, was all my heart rejoiced in,
Has used me like a slave, shamefully used me:
'Twould break thy pitying heart to hear the story.
Bel. What has he done?
Jaf. "Oh, 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 brain!
"Would'st thou believe it?
"Before we parted,"
Ere yet his guards had led him to, his prison,
Full of severest sorrows for his sufferings,
As at his feet I kneeled, and sued for mercy,
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 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 stretched in all the agonies
Of a tormenting and a shameful death;
What will thy heart do then? Oh! sure 'twill stream,
Like my eyes now.
Jaf. What means thy dreadful story?
Death, and to-morrow?
Bel. (C.) 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.
Jaf. Death! doomed to die! condemned 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 disordered!
What means my love?
Jaf. Leave me, I charge thee, leave me! Strong temptations
Wake in my heart.
Bel. (L.) For what]
Jaf. No more, but leave me.
Bel. Why?
Jaf. (L. C.) Oh! by Heav'n, I love thee with that fondness,
I would not have thee stay a moment longer
Near these cursed hands.
[Pulls the Dagger half out of his bosom, and puts it
back again.
Art thou not terrified?
Bel. No.
Jaf. Call to mind
What thou hast done, and whither thou hast brought me.
Bel. Ha!
Jaf. Where's my friend? my friend, thou smiling mischief!
Nay, shrink not, now 'tis too late; for dire revenge
Is up, and raging for my friend. He groans!
Hark, how be 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 hast done this!
Thanks to thy tears, and false persuading love.
How her eyes speak! oh, 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—Hah—yet stand off, [Going, R. 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. (C.) What means the lord
Of me, my life, and love? What's in thy bosom
Thou grasp'st at so?
[Jaffier draws the Dagger, and offers to stab her.
Ah! do not kill me, Jaffier.
Jaf. (R. C.) Know, 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.
Bel. Oh! mercy!
Jaf. Nay, no struggling.
Bel. Now, then, kill me,
[Falls on 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.
Jaf. I am, I am a coward, witness, Heav'n,
Witness it, earth, and ev'ry being witness:
'Tis but one blow! yet, by immortal love,
I cannot longer bear the thought to harm thee.
[Throws away the dagger, and embraces her.
The seal of Providence is sure upon thee;
And thou wast born for yet unheard-of wonders.
Oh! thou wert born either 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 forever.
Fall at his feet, cling round his rev'rend knees,
Speak to him with thy eyes, and with thy tears,
Melt his hard heart, and wake dead nature in him,
Nor, till thy prayers are granted, set him free,
But conquer him, as thou hast vanquished me.
[Exeunt Jaffier, R., Belvidera, L.
END OF ACT IV.
ACT V.
Scene I.—An Apartment in Priuli's House.
Enter Priuli, L.
Priuli. (L.) Why, cruel Heav'n, have my unhappy days
Been lengthened to this sad one? Oh! dishonour,
And deathless infamy have fall'n upon me.
Was it my fault? Am I a traitor? No. (C.)
But then, my only child, my daughter wedded;
There my best blood runs foul, and a disease
Incurable has seized upon my memory.
Enter Belvidera in a Mourning Veil, L.
Bel. [Speaking as she enters.] 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!—
Priuli. What child of sorrow
Art thou, that com'st, wrapt up in weeds of sadness,
And mov'st as if thy steps were towards a grave?
Bel. (L. C.) 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.
Priuli. (R. C.) What wouldst thou beg for?
Bel. 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. [Kneels.
Priuli. My daughter!
Bel. Yes, your daughter; and you've oft told me,
With smiles of love, and chaste paternal kisses,
I'd much resemblance of my mother.
Priuli. Don't talk thus.
Bel. Yes, I must: and you must hear, too.
I have a husband.
Priuli. Damn him!
Bel. Oh, do not curse him!
He would not speak so hard a word towards you,
On any terms, howe'er he deal with me.
Priuli. Ah! what means my child?
Bel. Oh! my husband, my dear husband,
Carries a dagger in his once kind bosom,
To pierce the heart of your poor Belvidera!
Priuli. Kill thee!
Bel. Yes, kill me. When he passed his faith
And covenant against your state and senate,
He gave me up a 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
T' 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 t' appease the gods
With this poor life, and make my blood th' atonement.
Priuli. Heavens!
Bel. 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.
Priuli. Oh, my heart's comfort!
Bel. Will you not, my father?
Weep not, but answer me.
Priuli. By Heav'n, 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!
Bel. Go, and remember,
'Tis Belvidera's life her father pleads for!
[Exeunt Priuli, R., Belvidera, L.
Scene II.—The Rialto.
Enter Captain—Muffled Drums—Guards—Executioner
with Axe—Renault—Spinosa—-Elliot—Theodore—
Durand—Mezzana—Pierre—Officer—Guards—
They all pass over the Stage, R. to L., and exeunt.