Complete Works of Thomas Otway

by Thomas Otway

  To lay in ashes: nay, the hour too fixed;

  The swords, for aught I know, drawn even this moment,

  And the wild waste begun. From unknown hands

  I had this warning: but, if we are men,

  Let’s not be tamely butchered, but do something

  That may inform the world in after-ages

  Our virtue was not ruined, though we were.

  [Voices without] Room, room, make room for some prisoners!

  2nd Senat. Let’s raise the city.

  Enter Officer and Guard.

  Priu. Speak there, what disturbance?

  Offi. Two prisoners have the guard seized in the streets,

  Who say they come to inform this reverend Senate

  About the present danger.

  All. Give them entrance. —

  Enter Jaffier and Belvidera, guarded.

  Well; who are you?

  Jaff. A villain.

  Ant. Short and pithy.

  The man speaks well.

  Jaff. Would every man that hears me

  Would deal so honestly, and own his title!

  Duke. ’Tis rumoured that a plot has been contrived

  Against this state; that you’ve a share in’t too.

  If you’re a villain, to redeem your honour,

  Unfold the truth, and be restored with mercy.

  Jaff. Think not that I, to save my life, come hither;

  I know its value better; but in pity

  To all those wretches whose unhappy dooms

  Are fixed and sealed. You see me here before you,

  The sworn and covenanted foe of Venice;

  But use me as my dealings may deserve,

  And I may prove a friend.

  Duke. The slave capitulates!

  Give him the tortures.

  Jaff. That you dare not do;

  Your fears won’t let you, nor the longing itch

  To hear a story which you dread the truth of, —

  Truth, which the fear of smart shall ne’er get from me.

  Cowards are scared with threatenings; boys are whipped

  Into confessions: but a steady mind

  Acts of itself, ne’er asks the body counsel.

  Give him the tortures! Name but such a thing

  Again, by Heaven, I’ll shut these lips for ever;

  Not all your racks, your engines, or your wheels

  Shall force a groan away that you may guess at.

  Ant. A bloody-minded fellow, I’ll warrant; a

  damned bloody-minded fellow.

  Duke. Name your conditions.

  Jaff. For myself full pardon,

  Besides the lives of two and twenty friends [Delivers a list.

  Whose names are here enrolled: nay, let their crimes

  Be ne’er so monstrous, I must have the oaths

  And sacred promise of this reverend council,

  That in a full assembly of the Senate

  The thing I ask be ratified. Swear this,

  And I’ll unfold the secrets of your danger.

  All. We’ll swear.

  Duke. Propose the oath.

  Jaff. By all the hopes

  Ye have of peace and happiness hereafter,

  Swear.

  All. We all swear.

  Jaff. To grant me what I’ve asked,

  Ye swear?

  All. We swear.

  Jaff. And as ye keep the oath,

  May you and your posterity be blessed,

  Or cursed for ever!

  All. Else be cursed for ever!

  Jaff. Then here’s the list, and with it the full disclose

  Of all that threatens you. Now, fate, thou’st caught me.

  [Delivers another paper.

  Ant. Why, what a dreadful catalogue of cut-throats is here! I’ll warrant you, not one of these fellows but has a face like a lion. I dare not so much as read their names over.

  Duke. Give order that all diligent search be made

  To seize these men; their characters are public:

  The paper intimates their rendezvous

  To be at the house of a famed Grecian courtesan,

  Called Aquilina; see that place secured.

  Ant. What, my Nicky Nacky, hurry durry, Nicky

  Nacky in the plot? — I’ll make a speech. —

  Most noble senators,

  What headlong apprehension drives you on,

  Right noble, wise, and truly solid senators,

  To violate the laws and right of nations?

  The lady is a lady of renown.

  ’Tis true, she holds a house of fair reception,

  And though I say it myself, as many more

  Can say as well as I —

  2nd Senat. My lord, long speeches

  Are frivolous here, when dangers are so near us.

  We all well know your interest in that lady;

  The world talks loud on’t.

  Ant. Verily, I have done,

  I say no more.

  Duke. But, since he has declared

  Himself concerned, pray, captain, take great caution

  To treat the fair one as becomes her character,

  And let her bed-chamber be searched with decency.

  You, Jaffier, must with patience bear till morning

  To be our prisoner.

  Jaff. Would the chains of death

  Had bound me fast ere I had known this minute!

  I’ve done a deed will make my story hereafter

  Quoted in competition with all ill ones:

  The history of my wickedness shall run

  Down through the low traditions of the vulgar,

  And boys be taught to tell the tale of Jaffier.

  Duke. Captain, withdraw your prisoner.

  Jaff. Sir, if possible,

  Lead me where my own thoughts themselves may lose me;

  Where I may doze out what I’ve left of life,

  Forget myself, and this day’s guilt and falsehood.

  Cruel remembrance, how shall I appease thee!

  [Exeunt Jaffier and Belvidera, guarded.

  [Voices without] More traitors; room, room, make room there.

  Duke. How’s this! Guards!

  Where are our guards? Shut up the gates; the treason’s

  Already at our doors.

  Enter Officer.

  Offi. My lords, more traitors;

  Seized in the very act of consultation;

  Furnished with arms and instruments of mischief. —

  Bring in the prisoners.

  Enter Pierre, Renault, Theodore, Eliot, Revillido, and other Conspirators, in fetters, guarded.

  Pier. You, my lords and fathers

  (As you are pleased to call yourselves) of Venice,

  If you sit here to guide the course of justice,

  Why these disgraceful chains upon the limbs

  That have so often laboured in your service?

  Are these the wreaths of triumphs ye bestow

  On those that bring you conquests home, and honours?

  Duke. Go on; you shall be heard, sir.

  Ant. And be hanged, too, I hope.

  Pier. Are these the trophies I’ve deserved for fighting

  Your battles with confederated powers?

  When winds and seas conspired to overthrow you,

  And brought the fleets of Spain to your own harbours;

  When you, great Duke, shrunk trembling in your palace,

  And saw your wife, the Adriatic, ploughed,

  Like a lewd whore, by bolder prows than yours,

  Stepped not I forth, and taught your loose Venetians

  The task of honour, and the way to greatness;

  Raised you from your capitulating fears,

  To stipulate the terms of sued-for peace?

  And this my recompense? If I’m a traitor,

  Produce my charge; or show the wretch that’s base enough

  And brave enough to tell me I’m a traitor.

  Duke. Know you on
e Jaffier? [All the Conspirators murmur.

  Pier. Yes, and know his virtue.

  His justice, truth, his general worth, and sufferings

  From a hard father, taught me first to love him.

  Duke. See him brought forth.

  Re-enter Jaffier, guarded.

  Pier. My friend too bound! nay, then,

  Our fate has conquered us, and we must fall.

  Why droops the man whose welfare’s so much mine,

  They’re but one thing? These reverend tyrants, Jaffier,

  Call us all traitors: art thou one, my brother?

  Jaff. To thee I am the falsest, veriest slave

  That e’er betrayed a generous, trusting friend,

  And gave up honour to be sure of ruin.

  All our fair hopes, which morning was to have crowned,

  Has this cursed tongue o’erthrown.

  Pier. So, then, all’s over:

  Venice has lost her freedom; I my life.

  No more; farewell.

  Duke. Say, will you make confession

  Of your vile deeds, and trust the Senate’s mercy?

  Pier. Cursed be your Senate; cursed your constitution;

  The curse of growing factions and division

  Still vex your councils, shake your public safety,

  And make the robes of government you wear.

  Hateful to you, as these base chains to me!

  Duke. Pardon, or death?

  Pier. Death, honourable death!

  Ren. Death’s the best thing we ask, or you can give.

  All Conspir. No shameful bonds, but honourable death.

  Duke. Break up the council. Captain, guard your prisoners.

  Jaffier, you’re free, but these must wait for judgment.

  [Exeunt all the Senators.

  Pier. Come, where’s my dungeon? lead me to my straw:

  It will not be the first time I’ve lodged hard

  To do your Senate service.

  Jaff. Hold one moment.

  Pier. Who’s he disputes the judgment of the Senate?

  Presumptuous rebel — on — [Strikes Jaffier.

  Jaff. By Heaven, you stir not!

  I must be heard, I must have leave to speak.

  Thou hast disgraced me, Pierre, by a vile blow:

  Had not a dagger done thee nobler justice?

  But use me as thou wilt, thou canst not wrong me,

  For I am fallen beneath the basest injuries;

  Yet look upon me with an eye of mercy,

  With pity and with charity behold me;

  Shut not thy heart against a friend’s repentance,

  But, as there dwells a godlike nature in thee,

  Listen with mildness to my supplications.

  Pier. What whining monk art thou? what holy cheat,

  That wouldst encroach upon my credulous ears,

  And cant’st thus vilely? Hence! I know thee not.

  Dissemble and be nasty: leave me, hypocrite.

  Jaff. Not know me, Pierre?

  Pier. No, know thee not: what art thou?

  Jaff. Jaffier, thy friend, thy once loved, valued friend,

  Though now deservedly scorned, and used most hardly.

  Pier. Thou Jaffier! thou my once loved, valued friend?

  By Heavens, thou liest! The man so called, my friend,

  Was generous, honest, faithful, just, and valiant,

  Noble in mind, and in his person lovely,

  Dear to my eyes and tender to my heart:

  But thou, a wretched, base, false, worthless coward,

  Poor even in soul, and loathsome in thy aspect;

  All eyes must shun thee, and all hearts detest thee.

  Pr’ythee avoid, nor longer cling thus round me,

  Like something baneful, that my nature’s chilled at.

  Jaff. I have not wronged thee, by these tears I have not,

  But still am honest, true, and hope, too, valiant;

  My mind still full of thee: therefore still noble.

  Let not thy eyes then shun me, nor thy heart

  Detest me utterly: oh, look upon me,

  Look back and see my sad, sincere submission!

  How my heart swells, as even ’twould burst my bosom,

  Fond of its goal, and labouring to be at thee!

  What shall I do — what say to make thee hear me?

  Pier. Hast thou not wronged me? dar’st thou call thyself

  Jaffier, that once loved, valued friend of mine,

  And swear thou hast not wronged me? Whence these chains?

  Whence the vile death which I may meet this moment?

  Whence this dishonour, but from thee, thou false one?

  Jaff. All’s true, yet grant one thing, and I’ve done asking.

  Pier. What’s that?

  Jaff. To take thy life on such conditions

  The Council have proposed: thou and thy friends

  May yet live long, and to be better treated.

  Pier. Life! ask my life? confess! record myself

  A villain, for the privilege to breathe,

  And carry up and down this cursèd city

  A discontented and repining spirit,

  Burthensome to itself, a few years longer,

  To lose it, may be, at last in a lewd quarrel

  For some new friend, treacherous and false as thou art!

  No, this vile world and I have long been jangling,

  And cannot part on better terms than now,

  When only men like thee are fit to live in’t.

  Jaff. By all that’s just —

  Pier. Swear by some other powers,

  For thou hast broke that sacred oath too lately.

  Jaff. Then, by that hell I merit, I’ll not leave thee,

  Till to thyself, at least, thou’rt reconciled,

  However thy resentments deal with me.

  Pier. Not leave me!

  Jaff. No; thou shalt not force me from thee.

  Use me reproachfully, and like a slave;

  Tread on me, buffet me, heap wrongs on wrongs

  On my poor head; I’ll bear it all with patience,

  Shall weary out thy most unfriendly cruelty:

  Lie at thy feet and kiss them, though they spurn me,

  Till, wounded by my sufferings, thou relent,

  And raise me to thy arms with dear forgiveness.

  Pier. Art thou not —

  Jaff. What?

  Pier. A traitor?

  Jaff. Yes.

  Pier. A villain?

  Jaff. Granted.

  Pier. A coward, a most scandalous coward,

  Spiritless, void of honour, one who has sold

  Thy everlasting fame for shameless life?

  Jaff. All, all, and more, much more: my faults are numberless.

  Pier. And wouldst thou have me live on terms like thine?

  Base as thou’rt false —

  Jaff. No; ’tis to me that’s granted.

  The safety of thy life was all I aimed at,

  In recompense for faith and trust so broken.

  Pier. I scorn it more, because preserved by thee:

  And as when first my foolish heart took pity

  On thy misfortunes, sought thee in thy miseries,

  Relieved thy wants, and raised thee from thy state

  Of wretchedness in which thy fate had plunged thee,

  To rank thee in my list of noble friends,

  All I received in surety for thy truth

  Were unregarded oaths, and this, this dagger,

  Given with a worthless pledge thou since hast stolen,

  So I restore it back to thee again;

  Swearing by all those powers which thou hast violated,

  Never from this cursed hour to hold communion,

  Friendship, or interest with thee, though our years

  Were to exceed those limited the world.

  Take it — farewell! — for now I owe thee nothing.

  Jaff. Say thou wilt live then
.

  Pier. For my life, dispose it

  Just as thou wilt, because ’tis what I’m tired with.

  Jaff. O Pierre!

  Pier. No more.

  Jaff. My eyes won’t lose the sight of thee,

  But languish after thine, and ache with gazing.

  Pier. Leave me — Nay, then thus, thus I throw thee from me,

  And curses, great as is thy falsehood, catch thee!

  [Exeunt Pierre and Conspirators, guarded.

  Jaff. Amen! he’s gone, my father, friend, preserver;

  And here’s the portion he has left me. [Holds the dagger up.

  This dagger, well remembered; with this dagger

  I gave a solemn vow of dire importance;

  Parted with this and Belvidera together; —

  Have a care, memory; drive that thought no farther; —

  No, I’ll esteem it as a friend’s last legacy,

  Treasure it up within this wretched bosom,

  Where it may grow acquainted with my heart,

  That, when they meet, they start not from each other.

  So; now for thinking: a blow, called traitor, villain,

  Coward, dishonourable coward, faugh!

  O for a long sound sleep, and so forget it!

  Down, busy devil —

  Re-enter Belvidera.

  Belv. Whither shall I fly?

  Where hide me and my miseries together?

  Where’s now the Roman constancy I boasted?

  Sunk into trembling fears and desperation!

  Not daring to look up to that dear face

  Which used to smile even on my faults, but down

  Bending these miserable eyes to earth,

  Must move in penance, and implore much mercy.

  Jaff. Mercy! kind Heaven has surely endless stores,

  Hoarded for thee, of blessings yet untasted.

  Let wretches loaded hard with guilt as I am

  Bow with the weight, and groan beneath the burthen;

  Creep, with a remnant of that strength they’ve left,

  Before the footstool of that Heaven they’ve injured.

  O Belvidera! I’m the wretchedest creature

  E’er crawled on earth: now, if thou’st virtue, help me;

  Take me

  Into thy arms, and speak the words of peace

  To my divided soul, that wars within me

  And raises every sense to my confusion;

  By Heaven, I’m tottering on the very brink

  Of peace, and thou art all the hold I’ve left.

  Belv. Alas! I know thy sorrows are most mighty;

  I know thou’st cause to mourn, to mourn, my Jaffier,

  With endless cries, and never-ceasing wailings;

  Thou’st lost —

  Jaff. Oh, I have lost what can’t be counted!

  My friend too, Belvidera, — that dear friend,

  Who, next to thee, was all my health rejoiced in, —