Venice Preserved | Page 6

my refuge! [Leans on Jaffier, R. C. Happy my eyes when they behold thy face! My heavy heart will leave its doleful beating At sight of thee, and bound with sprightful joys. Oh, smile! as when our loves were in their spring, And cheer my fainting soul!
Jaf. (R. C.) As when our loves Were in their spring! Has, then, my fortune changed thee? Art thou not, Belvidera, still the same, Kind, good, and tender, as my arms first found thee? If thou art altered, where shall I have harbour? Where ease my loaded heart? [Part] Oh! where complain?
Bel. (C.) Does this appear like change, or love decaying, When thus I throw myself Into thy bosom, With all the resolution of strong truth!
[Leans on Jaffier, R. C.
I joy more in thee Than did thy mother, when she hugged thee first, And blessed the gods for all her travail past.
Jaf. Can there in woman be such glorious faith? Sure, all ill stories of thy sex are false! [Part. Oh, woman! lovely woman! Nature made thee To temper man: we had been brutes without you! Angels are painted fair to look like you: There's in you all that we believe of heaven; Amazing brightness, purity, and truth, Eternal joy, and everlasting love! [Embrace.
Bel. If love be treasure, we'll be wondrous rich; Oh! lead me to some desert, [Part,] wide and wild, Barren as our misfortunes, where my soul May have its vent, where I may tell aloud To the high heavens, and ev'ry list'ning planet, With what a boundless stock my bosom's fraught.
Jaf. [Taking her hand.] Oh, Belvidera! doubly I'm a beggar; Undone by fortune, and in debt to thee. Want, worldly want, that hungry meagre fiend, Is at my heels, and chases me in view. Canst thou bear cold and hunger? Can these limbs, Framed for the tender offices of love, Endure the bitteer gripes of smarting poverty? When banished by our miseries abroad, (As suddenly we shall be) to seek, out, In some far climate, where our names are strangers, For charitable succour; wilt thou then, When in a bed of straw we shrink together, And the bleak winds shall whistle round our heads; Wilt thou then talk thus to me? Wilt thou then Hush my cares thus, and shelter me with love?
Bel. Oh! I will love thee, even in madness love thee! Though my distracted senses should forsake me, I'd find some intervals when my poor heart Should 'suage itself, and be let loose to thine. Though the bare earth be all our resting place, Its roots our food, some cliff our habitation, I'll make this arm a pillow for thine head; And, as thou sighing liest, and swelled with sorrow, Creep to thy bosom, pour the balm of love Into thy soul, and kiss thee to thy rest; [Part. Then praise our God, and watch thee till the morning.
Jaf. Hear this, you Heav'ns, and wonder how you made her! Reign, reign, ye monarchs, that divide the world; Busy rebellion ne'er will let you know Tranquillity and happiness like mine; Like gaudy ships, the obsequious billows fall, And rise again, to lift you in your pride; They wait but for a storm, and then devour you:
[Belvidera crosses, R. I, in my private bark already wrecked, Like a poor merchant, driven to unknown land, That had, by chance, picked up his choicest treasure, In one dear casket, and saved only that,
[Returns to Jaffier
Since I must wander farther on the shore, Thus [Taking her arm,] hug my little, but my precious store, Resolved to scorn, and trust my fate no more. [Exeunt, L.
END OF ACT I.

ACT II.
Scene I.--The Rialto.
Enter Jaffier, L.
Jaf. (L. C.) I'm here; and thus the shades of light around me, I look as if all hell were in my heart. And I in hell. Nay, surely 'tis so with me!-- For every step I tread, methinks some fiend Knocks at my breast, and bids me not be quiet. I've heard how desperate wretches like myself, Have wandered out at this dead time of night, To meet the foe of mankind in his walk. Sure I'm so cursed, that, though of Heav'n forsaken, No minister of darkness cares to tempt me. Hell! hell! why sleep'st thou? [Turns, L.
Enter Pierre, R. S. E.
Pierre. Sure I've staid too long: [Coming forward. The clock has struck, and I may lose my proselyte. Speak, [Seeing Jaffier,] who goes there?
Jaf. (L.) A dog, that comes to howl At yonder moon. What's he, that asks the question?
Pierre. A friend to dogs, for they are honest creatures, And ne'er betray their masters; never fawn On any that they love not. Well met, friend.
[Advancing toward, R. C.]
Jaffier!
Jaf. The same.
Pierre. (R. C.) Where's Belvidera?
Jaf.For a day or two, I've lodged her privately, till I see farther What fortune will