_Belv._ O my love! if e'er Thy Belvidera's peace deserved thy care, Remove me from this place--last night, last night! _Jaff._ Distract me not, but give me all the truth. _Belv._ No sooner wert thou gone, and I alone, Left in the power of that old son of mischief; No sooner was I lain on my sad bed, But that vile wretch approached me, loose, unbuttoned, Ready for violation: 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! wert gone. _Jaff._ Patience, sweet Heaven! till I make vengeance sure. _Belv._ He drew the hideous dagger forth thou gavest him, And with upbraiding smiles, he said, "Behold it; This is the pledge of a false husband's love": And in my 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. These are thy friends! with these thy life, thy honour, Thy love, all's staked, and all will go to ruin! _Jaff._ 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. _Belv._ Oh, should I part with thee, I fear thou wilt In anger leave me, and return no more. _Jaff._ Return no more! I would not live without thee Another night, to purchase the creation. _Belv._ When shall we meet again? _Jaff._ Anon, at twelve: I'll steal myself to thy expecting arms, Come like a travelled dove, and bring thee peace. _Belv._ Indeed? _Jaff._ By all our loves! _Belv._ 'Tis hard to part: But sure no falsehood ever looked so fairly. Farewell--remember twelve. [_Exit._ _Jaff._ Let Heaven forget me When I remember not thy truth, thy love. How cursed is my condition! tossed and justled From every corner; fortune's common fool, The jest of rogues, an instrumental ass For villains to lay loads of shame upon, And drive about just for their ease and scorn. _Enter_ PIERRE. _Pier._ Jaffier! _Jaff._ Who calls? _Pier._ A friend, that could have wished To have found thee otherwise employed: what, hunt A wife on the dull foil! sure a staunch husband Of all hounds is the dullest. Wilt thou never, Never be weaned from caudles and confections? What feminine tale hast thou been listening to Of unaired shirts, catarrhs and toothache got By thin-soled shoes? Damnation! that a fellow, Chosen to be a sharer in the destruction Of a whole people, should sneak thus in corners To ease his fulsome lusts, and fool his mind!