by Thomas Otway
SCENE II. — Another Room in the same.
Enter Belvidera.
Belv. I’m sacrificed! I’m sold! betrayed to shame!
Inevitable ruin has inclosed me!
No sooner was I to my bed repaired,
To weigh and (weeping) ponder my condition,
But the old hoary wretch, to whose false care
My peace and honour was entrusted came,
Like Tarquin, ghastly with infernal lust.
O thou Roman Lucrece!
Thou couldst find friends to vindicate thy wrong;
I never had but one, and he’s proved false;
He that should guard my virtue, has betrayed it;
Left me! undone me! oh, that I could hate him!
Where shall I go? oh, whither, whither wander?
Enter Jaffier.
Jaff. Can Belvidera want a resting-place,
When these poor arms are open to receive her?
Oh, ’tis in vain to struggle with desires
Strong as my love to thee; for every moment
I’m from thy sight, the heart within my bosom
Moans like a tender infant in its cradle,
Whose nurse had left it: come, and with the songs
Of gentle love, persuade it to its peace.
Belv. I fear the stubborn wanderer will not own me;
’Tis grown a rebel to be ruled no longer,
Scorns the indulgent bosom that first lulled it;
And, like a disobedient child, disdains
The soft authority of Belvidera.
Jaff. There was a time —
Belv. Yes, yes, there was a time
When Belvidera’s tears, her cries, and sorrows,
Were not despised; when if she chanced to sigh,
Or look but sad — there was indeed a time
When Jaffier would have ta’en her in his arms,
Eased her declining head upon his breast,
And never left her till he found the cause.
But let her now weep seas,
Cry till she rend the earth, sigh till she burst
Her heart asunder; still he bears it all,
Deaf as the wind, and as the rocks unshaken.
Jaff. Have I been deaf? am I that rock unmoved,
Against whose root tears beat, and sighs are sent
In vain? have I beheld thy sorrows calmly?
Witness against me, Heavens, have I done this?
Then bear me in a whirlwind back again,
And let that angry dear one ne’er forgive me!
Oh, thou too rashly censurest of my love!
Couldst thou but think how I have spent this night,
Dark and alone, no pillow to my head,
Rest in my eyes, nor quiet in my heart,
Thou wouldst not, Belvidera, sure thou wouldst not
Talk to me thus; but like a pitying angel,
Spreading thy wings, come settle on my breast,
And hatch warm comfort there, ere sorrows freeze it.
Belv. Why then, poor mourner, in what baleful corner
Hast thou been talking with that witch the Night?
On what cold stone hast thou been stretched along,
Gathering the grumbling winds about thy head,
To mix with theirs the accents of thy woes?
Oh, now I find the cause my love forsakes me!
I am no longer fit to bear a share
In his concernments: my weak female virtue
Must not be trusted; ’tis too frail and tender.
Jaff. O Portia! Portia! what a soul was thine!
Belv. That Portia was a woman; and when Brutus,
Big with the fate of Rome — Heaven guard thy safety! —
Concealed from her the labours of his mind,
She let him see her blood was great as his,
Flowed from a spring as noble, and a heart
Fit to partake his troubles as his love.
Fetch, fetch that dagger back, the dreadful dower
Thou gavest last night in parting with me; strike it
Here to my heart; and as the blood flows from it,
Judge if it run not pure as Cato’s daughter’s.
Jaff. Thou art too good, and I indeed unworthy,
Unworthy so much virtue: teach me how
I may deserve such matchless love as thine,
And see with what attention I’ll obey thee.
Belv. Do not despise me: that’s the all I ask.
Jaff. Despise thee! hear me —
Belv. Oh, thy charming tongue
Is but too well acquainted with my weakness;
Knows, let it name but love, my melting heart
Dissolves within my breast; till with closed eyes
I reel into thy arms, and all’s forgotten.
Jaff. What shall I do?
Belv. Tell me — be just, and tell me,
Why dwells that busy cloud upon thy face?
Why am I made a stranger? why that sigh,
And I not know the cause? why when the world
Is wrapped in rest, why chooses then my love
To wander up and down in horrid darkness,
Loathing his bed, and these desiring arms?
Why are these eyes blood-shot with tedious watching?
Why starts he now, and looks as if he wished
His fate were finished? Tell me, ease my fear,
Lest, when we next time meet, I want the power
To search into the sickness of thy mind,
But talk as wildly then as thou look’st now.
Jaff. O Belvidera!
Belv. Why was I last night
Delivered to a villain?
Jaff. Ha, a villain!
Belv. Yes! to a villain! Why at such an hour
Meets that assembly, all made up of wretches
That look as hell had drawn them into league?
Why, I in this hand, and in that a dagger,
Was I delivered with such dreadful ceremonies? —
“To you, sirs, and your honour, I bequeath her,
And with her this: whene’er I prove unworthy —
You know the rest — then strike it to her heart!”
Oh! why’s that “rest” concealed from me? Must I
Be made the hostage of a hellish trust? —
For such I know I am; that’s all my value!
But by the love and loyalty I owe thee,
I’ll free thee from the bondage of these slaves;
Straight to the Senate, tell them all I know,
All that I think, all that my fears inform me!
Jaff. Is this the Roman virtue? this the blood
That boasts its purity with Cato’s daughter?
Would she have e’er betrayed her Brutus?
Belv. No;
For Brutus trusted her: wert thou so kind,
What would not Belvidera suffer for thee?
Jaff. I shall undo myself, and tell thee all.
Belv. Look not upon me as I am a woman,
But as a bone, thy wife, thy friend, who long
Has had admission to thy heart, and there
Studied the virtues of thy gallant nature:
Thy constancy, thy courage, and thy truth,
Have been my daily lesson; I have learnt them,
Am bold as thou, can suffer or despise
The worst of fates for thee; and with thee share them.
Jaff. Oh, you divinest powers! look down and hear
My prayers! instruct me to reward this virtue!
Yet think a little, ere thou tempt me further;
Think I’ve a tale to tell will shake thy nature,
Melt all this boasted constancy thou talk’st of,
Into vile tears and despicable sorrows:
Then if thou shouldst betray me!
Belv. Shall I swear?
Jaff. No; do not swear, — I would not violate
Thy tender nature with so rude a bond, —
But as t
hou hopest to see me live my days,
And love thee long, lock this within thy breast: —
I’ve bound myself by all the strictest sacraments,
Divine and human —
Belv. Speak!
Jaff. To kill thy father.
Belv. My father!
Jaff. Nay, the throats of the whole Senate
Shall bleed, my Belvidera: he amongst us
That spares his father, brother, or his friend,
Is damned. How rich and beauteous will the face
Of ruin look, when these wide streets run blood,
I and the glorious partners of my fortune
Shouting, and striding o’er the prostrate dead,
Still to new waste; whilst thou, far off in safety
Smiling, shall see the wonders of our daring;
And when night comes, with praise and love receive me!
Belv. Oh!
Jaff. Have a care, and shrink not, even in thought!
For if thou dost —
Belv. I know it, thou wilt kill me.
Do, strike thy sword into this bosom: lay me
Dead on the earth, and then thou wilt be safe.
Murder my father! though his cruel nature
Has persecuted me to my undoing,
Driven me to basest wants, can I behold him,
With smiles of vengeance, butchered in his age?
The sacred fountain of my life destroyed?
And canst thou shed the blood that gave me being?
Nay, be a traitor too, and sell thy country?
Can thy great heart descend so vilely low,
Mix with hired slaves, bravos, and common stabbers,
Nose-slitters, alley-lurking villains — join
With such a crew, and take a ruffian’s wages,
To cut the throats of wretches as they sleep?
Jaff. Thou wrong’st me, Belvidera! I’ve engaged
With men of souls, fit to reform the ills
Of all mankind: there’s not a heart amongst them,
But’s stout as death, yet honest as the nature
Of man first made, ere fraud and vice were fashions.
Belv. What’s he to whose cursed hands last night thou gavest me?
Was that well done? Oh! I could tell a story
Would rouse thy lion-heart out of its den,
And make it rage with terrifying fury.
Jaff. Speak on, I charge thee!
Belv. O my love! if e’er
Thy Belvidera’s peace deserved thy care,
Remove me from this place — last night, last night!
Jaff. Distract me not, but give me all the truth.
Belv. No sooner wert thou gone, and I alone,
Left in the power of that old son of mischief;
No sooner was I lain on my sad bed,
But that vile wretch approached me, loose, unbuttoned,
Ready for violation: then my heart
Throbbed with its fears: oh, how I wept and sighed,
And shrunk and trembled, wished in vain for him
That should protect me! Thou, alas! wert gone.
Jaff. Patience, sweet Heaven! till I make vengeance sure.
Belv. He drew the hideous dagger forth thou gavest him,
And with upbraiding smiles, he said, “Behold it;
This is the pledge of a false husband’s love”:
And in my arms then pressed, and would have clasped me;
But with my cries I scared his coward-heart,
Till he withdrew, and muttered vows to hell.
These are thy friends! with these thy life, thy honour,
Thy love, all’s staked, and all will go to ruin!
Jaff. No more: I charge thee keep this secret close;
Clear up thy sorrows, look as if thy wrongs
Were all forgot, and treat him like a friend,
As no complaint were made. No more; retire,
Retire, my life, and doubt not of my honour;
I’ll heal its failings and deserve thy love.
Belv. Oh, should I part with thee, I fear thou wilt
In anger leave me, and return no more.
Jaff. Return no more! I would not live without thee
Another night, to purchase the creation.
Belv. When shall we meet again?
Jaff. Anon, at twelve:
I’ll steal myself to thy expecting arms,
Come like a travelled dove, and bring thee peace.
Belv. Indeed?
Jaff. By all our loves!
Belv. ’Tis hard to part:
But sure no falsehood ever looked so fairly.
Farewell — remember twelve. [Exit.
Jaff. Let Heaven forget me
When I remember not thy truth, thy love.
How cursed is my condition! tossed and justled
From every corner; fortune’s common fool,
The jest of rogues, an instrumental ass
For villains to lay loads of shame upon,
And drive about just for their ease and scorn.
Enter Pierre.
Pier. Jaffier!
Jaff. Who calls?
Pier. A friend, that could have wished
To have found thee otherwise employed: what, hunt
A wife on the dull foil! sure a staunch husband
Of all hounds is the dullest. Wilt thou never,
Never be weaned from caudles and confections?
What feminine tale hast thou been listening to
Of unaired shirts, catarrhs and toothache got
By thin-soled shoes? Damnation! that a fellow,
Chosen to be a sharer in the destruction
Of a whole people, should sneak thus in corners
To ease his fulsome lusts, and fool his mind!
Jaff. May not a man then trifle out an hour
With a kind woman, and not wrong his calling?
Pier. Not in a cause like ours.
Jaff. Then, friend, our cause
Is in a damned condition: for I’ll tell thee,
That canker-worm called lechery has touched it;
’Tis tainted vilely. Wouldst thou think it, Renault.
(That mortified, old, withered, winter-rogue)
Loves simple fornication like a priest?
I found him out for watering at my wife:
He visited her last night, like a kind guardian.
Faith, she has some temptations, that’s the truth on’t.
Pier. He durst not wrong his trust?
Jaff. ’Twas something late, though,
To take the freedom of a lady’s chamber.
Pier. Was she in bed?
Jaff. Yes, faith, in virgin sheets
White as her bosom, Pierre, dished neatly up,
Might tempt a weaker appetite to taste.
Oh, how the old fox stunk, I warrant thee,
When the rank fit was on him!
Pier. Patience guide me!
He used no violence?
Jaff. No, no! out on’t, violence!
Played with her neck, brushed her with his gray beard,
Struggled and towzed, tickled her till she squeaked a little,
May be, or so — but not a jot of violence.
Pier. Damn him!
Jaff. Ay, so say I: but hush, no more on’t;
All hitherto is well, and I believe
Myself no monster, yet: though no man knows
What fate he’s born to. Sure ’tis near the hour
We all should meet for our concluding orders.
Will the ambassador be here in person?
Pier. No; he has sent commission to that villain,
Renault, to give the executing charge;
I’d have thee be a man, if possible,
And keep thy temper; for a brave revenge
Ne’er comes too late.
Jaff. Fear not, I’m cool as patience:
Had he completed my dishonour, rather
Than hazard the succe
ss our hopes are ripe for,
I’d bear it all with mortifying virtue.
Pier. He’s yonder coming this way through the hall;
His thoughts seem full.
Jaff. Pr’ythee retire, and leave me
With him alone: I’ll put him to some trial,
See how his rotten part will bear the touching.
Pier. Be careful then. [Exit.
Jaff. Nay, never doubt, but trust me. —
What, be a devil! take a damning oath
For shedding native blood! can there be a sin
In merciful repentance? O this villain!
Enter Renault.
Ren. Perverse! and peevish! what a slave is man,
To let his itching flesh thus get the better of him!
Despatch the tool her husband — that were well —
Who’s there?
Jaff. A man.
Ren. My friend, my near ally!
The hostage of your faith, my beauteous charge
Is very well.
Jaff. Sir, are you sure of that?
Stands she in perfect health? beats her pulse even?
Neither too hot nor cold?
Ren. What means that question?
Jaff. Oh, women have fantastic constitutions,
Inconstant as their wishes, always wavering,
And never fixed. Was it not boldly done,
Even at first sight to trust the thing I loved —
A tempting treasure too! — with youth so fierce
And vigorous as thine? — but thou art honest.
Ren. Who dares accuse me?
Jaff. Cursed be him that doubts
Thy virtue! I have tried it, and declare,
Were I to choose a guardian of my honour,
I’d put it in thy keeping; for I know thee.
Ren. Know me?
Jaff. Ay, know thee: there’s no falsehood in thee,
Thou look’st just as thou art: let us embrace.
Now wouldst thou cut my throat, or I cut thine?
Ren. You dare not do it.
Jaff. You lie, sir.
Ren. How!
Jaff. No more.
’Tis a base world, and must reform, that’s all.
Enter Spinosa, Theodore, Eliot, Revillido, Durand, Brainville, and the rest of the Conspirators.
Ren. Spinosa! Theodore!
Spin. The same.
Ren. You are welcome!
Spin. You are trembling, sir.
Ren. ’Tis a cold night indeed, I am aged,
Full of decay and natural infirmities:
We shall be warm, my friend, I hope, to-morrow.
Re-enter Pierre.
Pier. [Aside to Jaffier.] ’Twas not well done thou shouldst have strokèd him,
And not have galled him.
Jaff. [Aside to Pierre.] Damn him! let him chew on it.
Heaven! where am I? beset with cursèd fiends,
That wait to damn me. What a devil’s man,
When he forgets his nature! Hush, my heart!
