Pour down your blessings on this beauteous head, Where everlasting sweets are always springing, With a continual giving hand: let peace, Honour, and safety, always hover round her: Feed her with plenty; let her eyes ne'er see A sight of sorrow, nor her heart know mourning; Crown all her days with joy, her nights with rest, Harmless as her own thoughts; and prop her virtue To bear the loss of one that too much loved; And comfort her with patience in our parting! _Bel._ How? parting, parting! _Jaf._ Yes, forever parting! I have sworn, Belvidera, by yon Heav'n, That best can tell how much I lose to leave thee, We part this hour forever! _Bel._ Oh! call back four cruel blessing; stay with me, and curse me. _Jaf._ Now hold, heart, or never! _Bel._ By all the tender days we've lived together, Pity my sad condition; speak, but speak! _Jaf._ Murder! unhold me; Or by th' immortal destiny that doomed me _[Draws his dagger._ To this cursed minute, I'll not live one longer! Resolve to let me go, or see me fall-- Hark! the dismal bell _[Passing bell tolls._ Tolls out for death! I must attend its call, too; For my poor friend, my dying Pierre, expects me; He sent a message to require I'd see him Before he died, and take his last forgiveness. Farewell forever! _[Going, L._ _Bel._ Leave thy dagger with me; Bequeath me something--Not one kiss at parting! Oh, my poor heart, when wilt thou break! _Jaf._ _[Returning--she runs into his arms.]_ Yet stay: We have a child, as yet a tender infant: Be a kind mother to him when I'm gone; Breed him in virtue and the paths of honour, But never let him know his father's story! I charge thee, guard him from the wrongs my fate May do his future fortune or his name. Now--nearer yet-- Oh, that my arms were riveted Thus round thee ever! But my friends! my oath! This, and no more! _[Kisses her_ _Bel._ Another, sure another For that poor little one you've ta'en such care of. I'll give't him truly. _Jaf._ So--now, farewell! _Bel._ Forever? _[Going, L._ _Jaf._ Heav'n knows, forever! all good angels guard thee! _[Exit, L._ _Bel._ All ill ones, sure, had charge of me this moment! Oh, give me daggers, daggers, _[Returns, C.]_ fire, or water! How I could bleed, how burn, how drown, the waves Huzzing and foaming round my sinking head, 'Till I descended to the peaceful bottom! Oh! there's all quiet--here, all rage and fury! The air's too thin, and pierces my weak brain; I long for thick substantial sleep: (R. C.) Hell! hell! Burst from the centre, (R.) rage and roar aloud, If thou art half so hot, so mad as I am! _[Exit, R._