_Jaf._ Agreed. _[Return to C._

_Pierre._ Shoot him!

_Jaf._ With all my heart!
No more--where shall we meet at night?

_Pierre._ I'll tell thee:
On the Rialto, every night at twelve,
I take my evening's walk of meditation:
There we two'll meet, and talk of precious mischief.

_Jaf._ Farewell!

_Pierre._ At twelve.

_Jaf._At any hour: my plagues
Will keep me waking.

_[Exit Pierre, R._

(R. C.) Tell me why, good Heaven,
Thou mad'st me what I am, with all the spirit,
Aspiring thoughts, and elegant desires,
That fill the happiest man! Ah, rather, why
Didst thou not form me sordid as my fate,
Base-minded, doll, and fit to carry burdens!
Why have I sense to know the curse that's on me?
Is this just dealing, nature! Belvidera!
Poor Belvidera!

_Bel._ _[ Without.]_ Lead me, lead me, my virgins.
To that kind voice.

_Enter Belvidera, L._

My lord, my love, 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