Offi. My lords, more traitors, eized in the very act of consultation; urnished with arms and instruments of mischief. ring in the prisoners.

Enter PIERRE, RENAULT, THEODORE, ELIOT, REVILLIDO, and other Conspirators, in fetters. Pier. You, my lords, and fathers

As you are pleased to call yourselves) of Venice,
you sit here to guide the course of justice,
Why these disgraceful chains upon the limbs,
hat have so often laboured in your service?
re these the wreaths of triumph ye bestow
In those, that bring you conquest home, and ho-
nours?

Duke. Go on; you shall be heard, sir.
Ant. And be hanged too, I hope.

* Pier. Are these the trophies I've deserved for

tians

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 shew the wretch that's
base

And brave enough, to tell me I'm a traitor.
Duke. Know you one Jaffier?

[Consp. 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 conquered us, and we must fall. Why droops the man, whose welfare's so much mine,

They are 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 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 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 are 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 the senate service.

Juf. Hold, one moment.
Pier. Who's he disputes the judgment of the
senate?

Presumptuous rebel !—On.

[Strikes JAFFIER. Jaf. 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 can'st 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 would'st encroach upon my credulous ears,
And cant'st thus vilely? Hence! I know thee not;
Dissemble and be nasty. Leave, hypocrite.
Jaf. Not know me, Pierre !

Pier. No, I know thee not. What art thou?
Juf. Jaffier, thy friend, thy once-loved valued
friend!

Though now deserv'dly scorned, and used most hardly.

Pier. Thou, Jaffier! thou my once-loved va

lued friend!

By Heaven 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.
Prithee avoid; nor longer cling thus round me,
Like something baneful, that my nature's chilled at.
Juf. 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 e'en '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 wrong'd me? Dar'st thou
call thyself

That once-loved, valued 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 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 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 powers,

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 resentment deal with me.

Pier. Not leave me !

The safety of thy life was all I aimed at,
In recompence 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 miseris,
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 be
stolen:

So I restore it back to thee again; Swearing by all those powers, which thou has violated,

Ne'er from this cursed hour to hold communi
Friendship, or interest, with thee, though our yeas
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 tired with
Juf. 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.
Jaf. Amen.

He's gone, my father, friend, preserver,
And here's the portion he has left me:

(Er

[Holds the dagger up This dagger. Well remembered! with this dagge I gave a solemn vow of dire importance; Parted with this, and Belvidera together. Have a care, memory! drive that thought o 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! fough! Oh! for a long sound sleep, and so forget it, Down, busy devil!

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.

Oh, Belvidera! I'm the wretched'st creature E'er crawled on earth. Now, if thou hast 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.
Bel. 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 wailing: Thou'st lost

Juf. Oh! I have lost what can't be counted.
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.
What should 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.

Bel. What has he done?

Jaf. Thou'dst hate me, should I tell thee.
Bel. Why?

Jaf. 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 wilt not loath me

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, cruellest racks and torments are pre paring,

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. For what?

Jaf. No more, but leave me,
Bel. Why?

Jaf. 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?

[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, decked with leaves of roses. Jaf. Alas! thou think'st not of the thorns 'tis

filled with:

Jaf. Where's my friend? my friend, thou smiling mischief!

Nay, shrink not, now 'tis too late; thou should'st 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 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-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-

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.
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!

Jaf. 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.
[Kneeling.

Bel. Oh! Mercy!
Jaf. Nay, no struggling.
Bel. Now, then, kill me,

[Leaps on his neck, and kisses kim.
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 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. [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 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, torture him with thy soft

ness;

Nor, till thy prayers are granted, set him free, But conquer him as thou hast conquered me! [Exeunt.

SCENE I.-An Apartment in PRIULI'S House.

Enter PRIULI solus.

Pri. 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.
Curst be the fatal minute, when I got her!
Or would that I'd been any thing but man,
And raised an issue, which would ne'er have

Enter BELVIDERA, in a long mourning Veil, Bel. 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

Pri. What child of sorrow Art thou, that comest wrapt in weeds of sadness, And mov'st, as if thy steps were towards a grave?

Bel. A wretch, who, from the very top of hap-
piness,

Am fallen into the depths of misery,
And want your pitying hand to raise me up again.
Pri. Indeed thou talk'st as thou hadst tasted
sorrows;

Would I could help thee!

Bel. '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,

Pri. For what?

Bel. 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.
Pri What would'st thou beg for?

Look kindly on me. In my face behold
The lineaments of her's you have kissed so often,
Pleading the cause of your poor cast-off child.
Pri. Thou art my daughter.

Bel. Yes and you have often told me,
With smiles of love and chaste paternal kisses,
I had much resemblance of my mother.
Pri. Oh!

Hadst thou inherited her matchless virtues,
I had been too blessed!

Bel. 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,

breaking.

Pri. Don't talk thus.

Bel. Yes, I must; and you must hear too.

I have a husband.

Pri. Damn him.

Bel. Oh! do not curse him;

He would not speak so hard a word towards you On any terms, howe'er he deals with me.

Pri. 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 am deadPri. How my soul's catched!

Bel. 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.

Pri. By heaven, my aching heart forebodes much mischief!

Tell me thy story, for I'm still thy father.

Bel. No; I'm contented.

Pri. Speak!

Bel. No matter.

Pri. Tell me :

By yon blessed Heaven, my heart runs o'er with

fondness!

Bel. Oh!

Pri. Utter it!

Bel. Oh! my husband, my dear husband, Carries a dagger in his once kind bosom, To pierce the heart of your poor Belvidera!

threatened, loved,

(For yet he loved,) and that dear love preserved