_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._ [Illustration] [Illustration] FOOTNOTES: