SCENE III.--_A Room in_ AQUILINA'S _House_.

_Enter_ RENAULT.

_Ren._ Why was my choice ambition, the worst ground A wretch can build on? 'Tis indeed at distance A goodly prospect, tempting to the view; The height delights us, and the mountain-top Looks beautiful, because 'tis nigh to Heaven; But we ne'er think how sandy's the foundation, What storm will batter, and what tempest shake us. Who's there?

_Enter_ SPINOSA.

_Spin._ Renault, good-morrow! for by this time I think the scale of night has turned the balance, And weighs up morning: has the clock struck twelve?

_Ren._ Yes; clocks will go as they are set; but man, Irregular man's ne'er constant, never certain. I've spent at least three precious hours of darkness In waiting dull attendance; 'tis the curse Of diligent virtue to be mixed, like mine, With giddy tempers, souls but half resolved.

_Spin._ Hell seize that soul amongst us it can frighten!

_Ren._ What's then the cause that I am here alone? Why are we not together?

_Enter_ ELIOT.

O sir, welcome! You are an Englishman: when treason's hatching, One might have thought you'd not have been behind-hand. In what whore's lap have you been lolling? Give but an Englishman his whore and ease, Beef, and a sea-coal fire, he's yours for ever.

_Eliot._ Frenchman, you are saucy.

_Ren._ How!

_Enter_ BEDAMAR the Ambassador, THEODORE, BRAINVILLE, DURAND, BRABE, REVILLIDO, MEZZANA, TERNON, _and_ RETROSI, Conspirators.

_Bed._ At difference? fie! Is this a time for quarrels? Thieves and rogues Fall out and brawl: should men of your high calling, Men separated by the choice of Providence From the gross heap of mankind, and set here In this assembly, as in one great jewel, To adorn the bravest purpose it e'er smiled on;-- Should you, like boys, wrangle for trifles?

_Ren._ Boys!

_Bed._ Renault, thy hand!

_Ren._ I thought I'd given my heart Long since to every man that mingles here; But grieve to find it trusted with such tempers That can't forgive my froward age its weakness.

_Bed._ Eliot, thou once hadst virtue; I have seen Thy stubborn temper bend with godlike goodness, Not half thus courted: 'tis thy nation's glory, To hug the foe that offers brave alliance. Once more embrace, my friends--we'll all embrace! United thus, we are the mighty engine Must twist this rooted empire from its basis. Totters it not already?

_Eliot._ Would 'twere tumbling!

_Bed._ Nay, it shall down: this night we seal its ruin.

_Enter_ PIERRE.

O Pierre! thou art welcome! Come to my breast, for by its hopes thou look'st Lovelily dreadful, and the fate of Venice Seems on thy sword already. O, my Mars! The poets that first feigned a god of war, Sure prophesied of thee.

_Pier._ Friends! was not Brutus-- I mean that Brutus who in open Senate Stabbed the first Cæsar that usurped the world-- A gallant man!

_Ren._ Yes, and Catiline too; Though story wrong his fame; for he conspired To prop the reeling glory of his country: His cause was good.

_Bed._ And ours as much above it As, Renault, thou'rt superior to Cethegus, Or Pierre to Cassius.

_Pier._ Then to what we aim at, When do we start? or must we talk for ever?

_Bed._ No, Pierre, the deed's near birth: fate seems to have set The business up, and given it to our care: I hope there's not a heart nor hand amongst us But is firm and ready.

_All._ All! We'll die with Bedamar.

_Bed._ Oh, men! Matchless, as will your glory be hereafter. The game is for a matchless prize, if won; If lost, disgraceful ruin.

_Ren._ What can lose it? The public stock's a beggar; one Venetian Trusts not another. Look into their stores Of general safety; empty magazines, A tattered fleet, a murmuring unpaid army, Bankrupt nobility, a harassed commonalty, A factious, giddy, and divided Senate, Is all the strength of Venice. Let's destroy it; Let's fill their magazines with arms to awe them, Man out their fleet, and make their trade maintain it; Let loose the murmuring army on their masters, To pay themselves with plunder; lop their nobles To the base roots, whence most of them first sprung; Enslave the rout, whom smarting will make humble; Turn out their droning Senate, and possess That seat of empire which our souls were framed for.

_Pier._ Ten thousand men are armèd at your nod, Commanded all by leaders fit to guide A battle for the freedom of the world; This wretched state has starved them in its service, And, by your bounty quickened, they're resolved To serve your glory, and revenge their own: They've all their different quarters in this city, Watch for the alarm, and grumble 'tis so tardy.

_Bed._ I doubt not, friend, but thy unwearied diligence Has still kept waking, and it shall have ease: After this night, it is resolved we meet No more, till Venice own us for her lords.

_Pier._ How lovelily the Adriatic whore, Dressed in her flames, will shine!--devouring flames, Such as shall burn her to the watery bottom, And hiss in her foundation!

_Bed._ Now if any 'Mongst us that owns this glorious cause Have friends or interest he'd wish to save, Let it be told. The general doom is sealed; But I'd forego the hopes of a world's empire, Rather than wound the bowels of my friend.

_Pier._ I must confess, you there have touched my weakness: I have a friend; hear it, such a friend! My heart was ne'er shut to him. Nay, I'll tell you: He knows the very business of this hour; But he rejoices in the cause, and loves it; We've changed a vow to live and die together, And he's at hand to ratify it here.

_Ren._ How! all betrayed?

_Pier._ No! I've dealt nobly with you; I've brought my all into the public stock; I'd but one friend, and him I'll share amongst you! Receive and cherish him: or if, when seen And searched, you find him worthless, as my tongue Has lodged this secret in his faithful breast, To ease your fears I wear a dagger here Shall rip it out again, and give you rest.-- Come forth, thou only good I e'er could boast of.

_Enter_ JAFFIER _with a dagger_.

_Bed._ His presence bears the show of manly virtue.

_Jaff._ I know you'll wonder all, that thus uncalled I dare approach this place of fatal counsels; But I'm amongst you, and, by Heaven, it glads me To see so many virtues thus united, To restore justice, and dethrone oppression. Command this sword, if you would have it quiet, Into this breast; but, if you think it worthy To cut the throats of reverend rogues in robes, Send me into the cursed assembled Senate; It shrinks not, though I meet a father there. Would you behold this city flaming? here's A hand shall bear a lighted torch at noon To the arsenal, and set its gates on fire.

_Ren._ You talk this well, sir.

_Jaff._ Nay--by Heaven, I'll do this! Come, come, I read distrust in all your faces; You fear me a villain, and indeed 'tis odd To hear a stranger talk thus at first meeting Of matters that have been so well debated; But I come ripe with wrongs, as you with counsels; I hate this Senate, am a foe to Venice; A friend to none but men resolved, like me, To push on mischief. Oh, did you but know me, I need not talk thus!

_Bed._ Pierre, I must embrace him. My heart beats to this man as if it knew him.

_Ren._ I never loved these huggers.

_Jaff._ Still I see The cause delights me not. Your friends survey me As I were dangerous; but I come armed Against all doubts, and to your trust will give A pledge, worth more than all the world can pay for. My Belvidera! Ho! my Belvidera!

_Bed._ What wonder next?

_Jaff._ Let me entreat you, As I have henceforth hopes to call ye friends, That all but the ambassador, and this Grave guide of counsels, with my friend that owns me, Withdraw awhile, to spare a woman's blushes.

[_Exeunt all but_ BEDAMAR, RENAULT, JAFFIER, _and_ PIERRE.

_Bed._ Pierre, whither will this ceremony lead us?

_Jaff._ My Belvidera! Belvidera!

_Enter_ BELVIDERA.

_Belv._ Who, Who calls so loud at this late peaceful hour? That voice was wont to come in gentle whispers, And fill my ears with the soft breath of love. Thou hourly image of my thoughts, where art thou?

_Jaff._ Indeed 'tis late.

_Belv._ Oh! I have slept, and dreamt, And dreamt again. Where hast thou been, thou loiterer? Though my eyes closed, my arms have still been opened, Stretched every way betwixt my broken slumbers, To search if thou wert come to crown my rest; There's no repose without thee. Oh, the day Too soon will break, and wake us to our sorrow; Come, come to bed, and bid thy cares good-night.

_Jaff._ O Belvidera! we must change the scene In which the past delights of life were tasted: The poor sleep little; we must learn to watch Our labours late, and early every morning, 'Midst winter frosts, thin clad and fed with sparing, Rise to our toils, and drudge away the day.

_Belv._ Alas! where am I? whither is't you lead me? Methinks I read distraction in your face, Something less gentle than the fate you tell me. You shake and tremble too; your blood runs cold! Heavens guard my love, and bless his heart with patience!

_Jaff._ That I have patience, let our fate bear witness, Who has ordained it so, that thou and I-- Thou the divinest good man e'er possessed, And I the wretched'st of the race of man-- This very hour, without one tear, must part.

_Belv._ Part! must we part? Oh! am I then forsaken? Will my love cast me off? have my misfortunes Offended him so highly that he'll leave me? Why drag you from me? whither are you going? My dear! my life! my love!

_Jaff._ Oh, friends!

_Belv._ Speak to me.

_Jaff._ Take her from my heart; She'll gain such hold else, I shall ne'er get loose. I charge thee take her; but with tenderest care Relieve her troubles, and assuage her sorrows.

_Ren._ Rise, madam, and command amongst your servants.

_Jaff._ To you, sirs, and your honours, I bequeath her, And with her this: when I prove unworthy-- [_Gives a dagger._ You know the rest--then strike it to her heart; And tell her, he who three whole happy years Lay in her arms, and each kind night repeated The passionate vows of still-increasing love, Sent that reward for all her truth and sufferings.

_Belv._ Nay, take my life, since he has sold it cheaply; Or send me to some distant clime your slave, But let it be far off, lest my complainings Should reach his guilty ears, and shake his peace.

_Jaff._ No, Belvidera, I've contrived thy honour: Trust to my faith, and be but fortune kind To me as I preserve that faith unbroken! When next we meet, I'll lift thee to a height Shall gather all the gazing world about thee, To wonder what strange virtue placed thee there. But if we ne'er meet more--

_Belv._ O thou unkind one! Never meet more! have I deserved this from you? Look on me, tell me; speak, thou dear deceiver; Why am I separated from thy love? If I am false, accuse me; but if true, Don't, pr'ythee don't in poverty forsake me; But pity the sad heart that's torn with parting. Yet hear me! yet recall me--

[_Exeunt_ RENAULT, BEDAMAR, _and_ BELVIDERA.

_Jaff._ O my eyes, Look not that way, but turn yourselves awhile Into my heart, and be weaned altogether! My friend, where art thou?

_Pier._ Here, my honour's brother.

_Jaff._ Is Belvidera gone?

_Pier._ Renault has led her Back to her own apartment: but, by Heaven! Thou must not see her more till our work's over.

_Jaff._ No?

_Pier._ Not for your life.

_Jaff._ O Pierre! wert thou but she, How I could pull thee down into my heart, Gaze on thee till my eye-strings cracked with love, Till all my sinews, with its fire extended, Fixed me upon the rack of ardent longing! Then swelling, sighing, raging to be blest, Come like a panting turtle to thy breast; On thy soft bosom hovering, bill and play, Confess the cause why last I fled away, Own 'twas a fault, but swear to give it o'er, And never follow false ambition more. [_Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[65] A reference to the story in Petronius on which Chapman founded his _Widow's Tears_.

[66] _i.e._ Shut up.

[67] A word of two syllables, as in Shakespeare.

ACT THE THIRD.