ler,
Creep even into my heart, and there lie safe:
'Tis thy own citadel.--Hah--yet stand off.
Heav'n must have justice, and my broken vows
Will sink me else beneath its reaching mercy.
I'll wink, and then 'tis done--

_Bel._ What means the lord
Of me, my life, and love? What's in thy bosom,
Thou grasp'st at so? Nay, why am I thus treated?

[_draws the dagger and offers to stab her._

_Jaf._ Know, Belvidera, when we parted last,
I gave this dagger with thee, as in trust,
To be thy portion if I e'er prov'd false.
On such condition, was my truth believ'd:
But now 'tis forfeited, and must be paid for.

[_offers to stab her again._

_Bel._ Oh! Mercy! [_kneeling._

_Jaf._ Nay, no struggling.

_Bel._ Now then, kill me. [_leaps on his neck, kisses him._

_Jaf._ I am, I am a coward; witness, heav'n,
Witness it, earth, and every being, witness:
'Tis but one blow! yet, by immortal love,
I cannot longer bear a thought to harm thee.

[_he throws away the dagger and embraces her._

The seal of Providence is sure upon thee:
And thou wert born for yet unheard-of wonders.
Oh! thou wert either born to save or damn me.
By all the power that's given me o'er thy soul,
By thy resistless tears and conquering smiles,
By the victorious love that still waits on thee.
Fly to thy cruel father, save my friend,
Or all our future quiet's lost for ever.
Fall at his feet, cling round his reverend knees,
Speak to him with thy eyes, and with thy tears,
Melt his hard heart, and wake dead nature in him,
Crush him in th' arms, torture him with thy softness;
Nor, till thy prayers are granted, set him free,
But conquer him, as thou hast conquer'd me. [_exeunt._

ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I. AN APARTMENT IN PRIULI'S HOUSE.

_Enter Priuli._

_Pri._ Why, cruel heav'n, have my unhappy days
Been lengthen'd to this sad one? Oh! dishonour
And deathless infamy is fallen upon me.
Was it my fault? Am I a traitor? No.
But then, my only child, my daughter wedded;
There my best blood runs foul, and a disease
Incurable has seiz'd upon my memory.

_Enter Belvidera, in a long mourning veil._

_Bel._ He's there, my father, my inhuman father,
That for three years has left an only child
Expos'd to all the outrages of fate,
And cruel rain!--oh!----

_Pri._ What child of sorrow
Art thou, that comes wrapt in weeds of sadness,
And mov'st as if thy steps were tow'rds a grave?

_Bel._ A wretch who from the very top of happine