You may remember (for I now will speak,
And urge its baseness) when you first came home
From travel, with such hopes as made you look'd on
By all men's eyes a youth of expectation;
Pleas'd with your growing virtue, I receiv'd you,
Courted, and sought to raise you to your merits:
My house, my table, nay, my fortune, too,
My very self, was yours; you might have us'd me
To your best service; like an open friend,
I treated, trusted you, and thought you mine;
When, in requital of my best endeavours,
You treacherously practis'd to undo me,
Seduc'd the weakness of my age's darling,
My only child, and stole her from my bosom :
Oh, Belvidera!

you

Jaf.
'Tis to me you owe her;
Childless had been else, and in the grave;
Your name extinct, no more Priuli heard of.
You may remember, scarce five years are past,
Since, in your brigantine, you sail'd to see
The Adriatic wedded by our duke,

And I was with you: your unskilful pilot
Dash'd us upon a rock; when to your boat.
You made for safety; enter'd first yourself:
Th' affrighted Belvidera following next,
As she stood trembling on the vessel's side,
Was by a wave wash'd off into the deep;
When instantly I plung'd into the sea,
And buffeting the billows to her rescue,
Redeem'd her life with half the loss of mine.
Like a rich conquest, in one hand I bore her,
And with the other dash'd the saucy waves,
That throng'd and press'd to rob me of my prize:
I brought her, gave her to your despairing arms:
Indeed, you thank'd me; but a nobler gratitude
Rose in her soul; for from that hour she lov'd me,
Till for her life she paid me with herself.

Pri. You stole her from me; like a thief, you

stole her

At dead of night; that cursed hour you chose
To rifle me of all my heart held dear.

May all your joys in her prove false like mine;
A sterile fortune, and a barren bed,

Attend you both; continual discord make
Your days and nights bitter and grievous: still
May the hard hand of a vexatious need
Oppress and grind you; till at last you find
The curse of disobedience all your portion.

Jaf. Half of your curse you have bestow'd in vain:

Heaven has already crown'd our faithful loves
With a young boy, sweet as his mother's beauty:
May he live to prove more gentle than his grand-

sire,

And happier than his father!

Rather live

Pri. To bate thee for his bread, and din your ears With hungry cries: whilst his unhappy mother Sits down and weeps in bitterness of want. Jaf. You talk as if 'twould please you. Pri. "Twould, by Heaven! Once she was dear, indeed; the drops that fell From my sad heart, when she forgot her duty, The fountain of my life was not so precious: But she is gone, and if I am a man

I will forget her.

Jaf.

Would I were in my grave.

Pri. And she too with thee;

For living here, you're but my curs'd remembrancers I once was happy.

Jaf. You use me thus, because you know my

soul

Is fond of Belvidera: you perceive

My life feeds on her, therefore thus you treat me!

Oh! could my soul have ever known satiety;
Were I that thief, the doer of such wrongs
As you upbraid me with, what hinders me
But I might send her back to you with contumely,
And court my fortune where she would be kinder!
Pri. You dare not do't.-

Jaf.
Indeed, my lord, I dare not.
My heart, that awes me, is too much my master:
Three years are past since first our vows were

plighted,

During which time the world must bear me witness,
I've treated Belvidera like your daughter,
The daughter of a senator of Venice;
Distinction, place, attendance, and observance,
Due to her birth, she always has commanded;
Out of my little fortune I've done this;

Because (though hopeless e'er to win your nature)
The world might see, I lov'd her for herself,

Not as the heiress of the

Pri. No more!

great Priuli.

Jaf. Yes! all, and then adieu for ever. There's not a wretch that lives on common charity But's happier than me: For I have known The luscious sweets of plenty; every night Have slept with soft content about my head, And never wak'd but to a joyful morning; Yet now must fall like a full ear of corn, Whose blossom 'scap'd, yet's wither'd in the ripening. Pri. Home, and be humble, study to retrench; Discharge the lazy vermin of thy hall,

Those pageants of thy folly;

Reduce the glittering trappings of thy wife
To humble weeds, fit for thy little state;

Then to some suburb cottage both retire;

Drudge, to feed loathsome life; get brats, and

starve

Home, home, I say—

[Exit.

Jaf. Yes, if my heart would let meThis proud, this swelling heart: home I would go, But that my doors are hateful to mine eyes, Fill'd and damm'd up with gaping creditors, Watchful as fowlers when their game will spring: I've not now fifty ducats in the world, Yet still I am in love, and pleas'd with ruin. Oh, Belvidera! Oh! she is my wifeAnd we will bear our wayward fate together, But ne'er know comfort more.

Pierre.

Enter PIERRE.

My friend, good-morrow!

How fares the honest partner of my heart?
What, melancholy? not a word to spare me?
Jaf. I'm thinking, Pierre, how that damn'd
starving quality,

Call'd honesty, got footing in the world.

Pierre. Why, powerful villany first set it up, For its own ease and safety: honest men Are the soft easy cushions on which knaves Repose and fatten: were all mankind villains, They'd starve each other; lawyers would want prac

tice,

Cut-throats rewards: each man would kill his brother

Himself; none would be paid or hang'd for murder:
Honesty: 'twas a cheat, invented first

To bind the hands of bold deserving rogues,
That fools and cowards might sit safe in power,
And lord it, uncontroll'd, above their betters.
Jaf. Then honesty is but a notion ?

Pierre. Nothing else: Like wit, much talk'd of, but not to be defin'd:

He that pretends to most, too, has least share in't; 'Tis a ragged virtue: Honesty! no more on't. Jaf. Sure thou art honest?

Pierre.

So, indeed, men think me,

But they're mistaken, Jaffier: I'm a rogue,
As well as they;

A fine, gay, bold-fac'd villain, as thou seest me:
'Tis true, I pay my debts when they're contracted;
I steal from no man; would not cut a throat
To gain admission to a great man's purse,
Or a whore's bed; I'd not betray my friend,
To get his place or fortune: I scorn to flatter
A blown-up fool above me, or crush the wretch be
neath me:

Yet, Jaffeir, for all this, I am a villain.

Jaf. A villain!

Pierre.

Yes, a most notorious villain : To see the sufferings of my fellow-creatures, And own myself a man: to see our senators Cheat the deluded people with a shew Of liberty, which yet they ne'er must taste of; They say, by them our hands are free from fetters, Yet whom they please they lay in basest bonds; Bring whom they please to infamy and sorrow; Drive us, like wrecks, down the rough tide of

power,

Whilst no hold's left to save us from destruction;
All that bear this are villains, and I one,
Not to rouse up at the great call of nature,
And check the growth of these domestic spoilers,
That make us slaves, and tell us 'tis our charter.
Jaf. Oh, Aquilina! Friend, to lose such beauty,
The dearest purchase of thy noble labours;
She was thy right by conquest, as by love.
Pierre. Oh, Jaffeir! I'd so fix'd my heart upon
her,

That wheresoe'er I fram'd a scheme of life
For time to come, she was my only joy,
With which I wish'd to sweeten future cares;
I fancied pleasures, none but one that loves