_Jaff._ Rather remember him who, after all The sacred bonds of oaths and holier friendship, In fond compassion to a woman's tears, Forgot his manhood, virtue, truth, and honour, To sacrifice the bosom that relieved him. Why wilt thou damn me? _Belv._ O inconstant man! How will you promise! how will you deceive! Do, return back, replace me in my bondage; Tell all thy friends how dangerously thou lovest me; And let thy dagger do its bloody office. O, that kind dagger, Jaffier, how 'twill look Stuck through my heart, drenched in my blood to the hilts! Whilst these poor dying eyes shall with their tears No more torment thee;--then thou wilt be free. Or if thou think'st it nobler, let me live Till I'm a victim to the hateful lust Of that infernal devil, that old fiend That's damned himself, and would undo mankind. Last night, my love! _Jaff._ Name, name it not again; It shows a beastly image to my fancy, Will wake me into madness. O, the villain That durst approach such purity as thine On terms so vile! Destruction, swift destruction Fall on my coward head, and make my name The common scorn of fools, if I forgive him! If I forgive him! if I not revenge With utmost rage, and most unstaying fury, Thy suffering, dear darling of my life. _Belv._ Delay no longer then, but to the Senate; And tell the dismallest story ever uttered; Tell them what bloodshed, rapines, desolations, Have been prepared; how near's the fatal hour; Save thy poor country, save the reverend blood Of all its nobles, which to-morrow's dawn Must else see shed; save the poor tender lives Of all those little infants which the swords Of murderers are whetting for this moment; Think thou already hear'st their dying screams, Think that thou seest their sad distracted mothers Kneeling before thy feet, and begging pity, With torn dishevelled hair and streaming eyes, Their naked mangled breasts besmeared with blood, And even the milk, with which their fondled babes Softly they hushed, dropping in anguish from them: Think thou seest this, and then consult thy heart. _Jaff._ Oh! _Belv._ Think, too, if thou lose this present minute, What miseries the next day brings upon thee. Imagine all the horrors of that night, Murder and rapine, waste and desolation, Confusedly ranging. Think what then may prove My lot! The ravisher may then come safe, And, 'midst the terror of the public ruin, Do a damned deed; perhaps too lay a train May catch thy life: then where will be revenge, The dear revenge that's due to such a wrong?