we thee,
I'll free thee from the bondage of the slaves;
Straight to the senate, tell 'em all I know,
All that I think, all that my fears inform me.

_Jaf._ Is this the Roman virtue; this the blood
That boasts its purity with Cato's daughter?
Would she have e'er betrayed her Brutus?

_Bel._ No:
For Brutus trusted her. Wert thou so kind,
What would not Belvidera suffer for thee?

_Jaf._ I shall undo myself, and tell thee all.
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!--

_Bel._ Shall I swear!

_Jaf._ No, do not swear: I would not violate
Thy tender nature, with so rude a bond:
But as thou hop'st 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----

_Bel._ Speak!

_Jaf._ To kill thy father----

_Bel._ My father!

_Jaf._ Nay, the throats of the whole senate
Shall bleed, my Belvidera. He amongst us,
That spares his father, brother, or his friend,
Is damn'd.

_Bel._ Oh!

_Jaf._ Have a care, and shrink not even in thought.
For if thou dost----

_Bel._ 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, butcher'd in his age?
The sacred fountain of my life destroy'd?
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 hir'd slaves, bravoes, 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?

_Jaf._ 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 among them
But's stout as death, yet honest as the nature
Of man first made, ere fraud and vice were fashion.

_Bel._ What's he, to whose curs'd hands last night thou gav'st 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.

_Jaf._ Speak on, I charge thee.

_Bel._ O my love! If e'er
Thy Belvidera's peace deserv'd thy care,
Rem