_Enter_ BELVIDERA. _Belv._ My life! [_Meeting him._ _Jaff._ My plague! [_Turning from her._ _Belv._ Nay, then I see my ruin, If I must die! _Jaff._ No, Death's this day too busy; Thy father's ill-timed mercy came too late. I thank thee for thy labours though, and him too: But all my poor, betrayed, unhappy friends Have summons to prepare for fate's black hour; And yet I live. _Belv._ Then be the next my doom. I see thou hast passed my sentence in thy heart, And I'll no longer weep or plead against it; But with the humblest, most obedient patience Meet thy dear hands, and kiss them when they wound me. Indeed I'm willing, but I beg thee do it With some remorse; and, when thou givest the blow, View me with eyes of a relenting love, And show me pity, for 'twill sweeten justice. _Jaff._ Show pity to thee? _Belv._ Yes; and when thy hands, Charged with my fate, come trembling to the deed, As thou hast done a thousand thousand dear times To this poor breast, when kinder rage has brought thee, When our stinged hearts have leaped to meet each other, And melting kisses sealed our lips together, When joys have left me gasping in thy arms, So let my death come now, and I'll not shrink from it. _Jaff._ Nay, Belvidera, do not fear my cruelty, Nor let the thoughts of death perplex thy fancy; But answer me to what I shall demand, With a firm temper and unshaken spirit. _Belv._ I will when I've done weeping-- _Jaff._ Fie, no more on't. How long is't since the miserable day We wedded first? _Belv._ Oh! _Jaff._ Nay, keep in thy tears, Lest they unman me too. _Belv._ Heaven knows I cannot; The words you utter sound so very sadly, These streams will follow-- _Jaff._ Come, I'll kiss them dry then. _Belv._ But was't a miserable day? _Jaff._ A cursed one. _Belv._ I thought it otherwise; and you've oft sworn In the transporting hours of warmest love, When sure you spoke the truth, you've sworn you blessed it. _Jaff._ 'Twas a rash oath. _Belv._ Then why am I not cursed too? _Jaff._ No, Belvidera; by the eternal truth, I dote with too much fondness. _Belv._ Still so kind! Still then do you love me? _Jaff._ Nature, in her workings, Inclines not with more ardour to creation, Than I do now towards thee; man ne'er was blest, Since the first pair first met, as I have been. _Belv._ Then sure you will not curse me? _Jaff._ No, I'll bless thee. I came on purpose, Belvidera, to bless thee. 'Tis now, I think, three years we've lived together.