SCENE II.--_The Rialto.

_Enter_ JAFFIER.

_Jaff._ I'm here; and thus, the shades of night around me, I look as if all hell were in my heart, And I in hell. Nay, surely, 'tis so with me; For every step I tread, methinks some fiend Knocks at my breast, and bids it not be quiet. I've heard how desperate wretches, like myself, Have wandered out at this dead time of night To meet the foe of mankind in his walk: Sure I'm so cursed that, though of Heaven forsaken, No minister of darkness cares to tempt me. Hell! hell! why sleep'st thou?

_Enter_ PIERRE.

_Pier._ Sure I've stayed too long: The clock has struck, and I may lose my proselyte. Speak, who goes there?

_Jaff._ A dog, that comes to howl At yonder moon: what's he that asks the question?

_Pier._ A friend to dogs, for they are honest creatures, And ne'er betray their masters; never fawn On any that they love not. Well met, friend: Jaffier?

_Jaff._ The same. O Pierre! thou'rt come in season; I was just going to pray.

_Pier._ Ah, that's mechanic; Priests make a trade on't, and yet starve by't too: No praying; it spoils business, and time's precious. Where's Belvidera?

_Jaff._ For a day or two I've lodged her privately, till I see farther What fortune will do with me. Pr'ythee, friend, If thou wouldst have me fit to hear good counsel, Speak not of Belvidera--

_Pier._ Speak not of her?

_Jaff._ Oh, no!

_Pier._ Nor name her? May be I wish her well.

_Jaff._ Whom well?

_Pier._ Thy wife, the lovely Belvidera; I hope a man may wish his friend's wife well, And no harm done!

_Jaff._ You're merry, Pierre!

_Pier._ I am so: Thou shalt smile too, and Belvidera smile; We'll all rejoice. Here's something to buy pins;

[_Gives him a purse._

Marriage is chargeable.

_Jaff._ 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'd 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?

_Jaff._ Kind Heaven! let heavy curses Gall his old age; cramps, aches,[67] 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 As well, my friend, have stretched the curse to all The senate round, as to one single villain?

_Jaff._ But curses stick not: could I kill with cursing, By Heaven, I know not thirty heads in Venice Should not be blasted; senators should rot Like dogs on dunghills; but their wives and daughters Die of their own diseases. Oh for a curse To kill with!

_Pier._ Daggers--daggers are much better!

_Jaff._ Ha!

_Pier._ Daggers.

_Jaff._ But where are they?

_Pier._ Oh, a thousand May be disposed in honest hands in Venice.

_Jaff._ Thou talk'st in clouds.

_Pier._ But yet a heart half wronged As thine has been would find the meaning, Jaffier.

_Jaff._ A thousand daggers, all in honest hands! And have not I a friend will stick one here?

_Pier._ Yes, if I thought thou wert not to be cherished 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 bosom.

_Jaff._ When thou wouldst bind me, is there need of oaths?-- Green-sickness girls lose maidenheads with such counters-- For thou'rt so near my heart that thou mayst see Its bottom, sound its strength and firmness to thee: 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 villanous inglorious enterprise, 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't; 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.

_Jaff._ 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 freed from those opprobrious wrongs That press me now, and bend my spirit downward; 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 harmonious.

_Jaff._ What can I do?

_Pier._ Canst thou not kill a senator?

_Jaff._ 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!

_Jaff._ 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.

_Pier._ 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 it's wildest--

_Jaff._ I give thee thanks For this kind warning: yes, I will 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 show 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!

_Jaff._ Revenge! Revenge! [_Exeunt._