_Jaff._ By all Heaven's powers, prophetic truth dwells in thee, For every word thou speak'st strikes through my heart Like a new light, and shows it how it has wandered; Just what thou'st made me, take me, Belvidera, And lead me to the place where I'm to say This bitter lesson; where I must betray My truth, my virtue, constancy, and friends:-- Must I betray my friend? Ah! take me quickly, Secure me well before that thought's renewed; If I relapse once more, all's lost for ever. _Belv._ Hast thou a friend more dear than Belvidera? _Jaff._ No; thou'rt my soul itself; wealth, friendship, honour, All present joys and earnest of all future, Are summed in thee: methinks, when in thy arms Thus leaning on thy breast, one minute's more Than a long thousand years of vulgar hours. Why was such happiness not given me pure? Why dashed with cruel wrongs, and bitter wantings? Come, lead me forward now, like a tame lamb To sacrifice. Thus in his fatal garlands, Decked fine and pleased, the wanton skips and plays, Trots by the enticing flattering priestess' side, And, much transported with his little pride, Forgets his dear companions of the plain; Till, by her bound, he's on the altar lain, Yet then too hardly bleats, such pleasure's in the pain. _Enter_ Officer _and six_ Guards. _Offi._ Stand; who goes there? _Belv._ Friends. _Jaff._ Friends, Belvidera! hide me from my friends. By Heaven, I'd rather see the face of hell Than meet the man I love. _Offi._ But what friends are you? _Belv._ Friends to the Senate and the state of Venice. _Offi._ My orders are, to seize on all I find At this late hour, and bring them to the Council, Who now are sitting. _Jaff._ Sir, you shall be obeyed. Hold, brutes! stand off, none of your paws upon me. Now the lot's cast, and, fate, do what thou wilt. [_Exeunt._ [Illustration] SCENE II.-_The Senate House._ The Duke of VENICE, PRIULI, ANTONIO, _and eight_ _other_ Senators _discovered in session_. _Duke._ Antony, Priuli, senators of Venice, Speak; why are we assembled here this night? What have you to inform us of, concerns The state of Venice' honour, or its safety? _Priu._ Could words express the story I've to tell you, Fathers, these tears were useless, these sad tears That fall from my old eyes; but there is cause We all should weep; tear off these purple robes, And wrap ourselves in sackcloth, sitting down On the sad earth, and cry aloud to Heaven. Heaven knows if yet there be an hour to come Ere Venice be no more! _All the Senators._ How!