entertain my fate, and die with decency.
You'll think on't? _[To Jaffier._

_Jaf._ 'Twont grow stale before to-morrow.

_[Pierre and Jaffier ascend the Scaffold--Executioner
binds Pierre._

_Pierre._ Now, Jaffier! now I'm going! Now--

_Jaf._ Have at thee,
Thou honest heart, then!--here-- _[Stabs him._
And this is well, too. _[Stabs himself._

_Pierre._ Now, now--thou hast indeed been faithful!
This was done nobly!--We've deceived the senate.

_Jaf._ Bravely!

_Pierre._ Ha! ha! ha!--oh! oh!

_[Falls down on the Scaffold and dies_

_Jaf._ Now, ye cursed rulers,
Thus of the blood ye've shed, I make libation,
And sprinkle it mingling. May it rest upon you.
And all your race! Oh, poor Belvidera!
Sir, I've a wife; bear this in safety to her,
A token that, with my dying breath, I blessed her.
And the dear little infant left behind me.
I'm sick--I'm quiet. _[Dies.--The Scene shuts upon them._

_Scene V.--An apartment in Priuli s House._

_Enter Priuli, R.; Belvidera, distracted; and two of her
Women._

_Priuli._ (L. C.) Strengthen her heart with patience,
pitying Heav'n!

_Bel._ (C.) Come, come, come, come, come; nay, come to bed,
Pr'ythee, my love. The winds! hark how they whistle!
And the rain beats! Oh, how the weather shrinks me!
I say you shall not go, indeed you shall not:
Whip your ill-nature; get you gone, then; Oh!
Are you returned? See, father, here he's come again!
Am I to blame to love him? Oh, thou dear one!
Why do you fly me? Are you angry still, then?
_Jaf._ier, where art thou? Father, why do you do thus?
Stand off! don't hide him from me! He's there somewhere.
Stand off, I say! What, gone? Remember, tyrant
I may revenge myself for this trick, one day.

_Enter Captain of the Guard, L., and whispers Priuli._

_Priuli._ News! what news?

_Capt._ (L.) Most sad, sir!
Jaffier, upon the scaffold, to prevent
A shameful death, stabbed Pierre, and next himself;
Both fell together.

_Bel._ (R.) Ha! look there!
My husband bloody, and his friend, too! Murder!
Who has done this? Speak to me, thou sad vision;
On these poor trembling knees, I beg it. Vanished:--
Here they went down. (R. C.)--Oh, I'll dig, dig the den up!
Hoa, Jaffier, Jaffier!