ACT V.

SCENE I.

Enter PRIULI.

Priu. Why, cruel heav'n, have my unhappy days
Been lengthen'd to this sad one? oh! dishonour
And deathless infamy is fall'n 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,
To make it rot and stink to after ages.
Curst be the fatal minute when I got her;
Or would that I'd been any thing but man,
And rais'd an issue which would ne'er have wrong'd me!
The miserablest creatures (man excepted)
Are not the less esteem'd, tho' their posterity
Degen'rate from the virtues of their fathers;
The vilest beasts are happy in their offsprings,
While only man gets traitors, whores, and villains.
Curst be the names, and some swift blow from fate
Lay his head deep, where mine may be forgotten.

Enter BELVIDERA in a long mourning Veil.

Belv. 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 ruin- -Oh!

---

Priu. What child of sorrow

Art thou, that com'st thus wrapp'd in weeds of sadness, And mov'st as if thy steps were towards a grave?

Belv. A wretch, who from the very top of happiness,

Am fall'n into the lowest depths of misery,

And want your pitying hand to raise me up again,

Priu. Indeed thou talk'st as thou hadst tasted sorrows; Would I could help thee.

Belv. "Tis greatly in your power,

The world, too, speaks you charitable; and I,
Who ne'er ask'd alms before, in that dear hope

Am come a begging to you, sir.

Priu. For what?

Belv. Oh, well regard me; is this voice a strange one? Consider too, when beggars once pretend

A case like mine, no little will content them.

Priu. What would'st thou beg for?

Belv. Pity and forgiveness. [Throws up her Veil. By the kind tender names of child and father, Hear my complaints, and take me to

Priu. My daughter!

your love.

Belv. Yes, your daughter, by a mother
Virtuous and noble, faithful to your honour,
Obedient to your will, kind to your wishes,
Dear to your arms: by all the joys she gave you,
When in her blooming years she was your treasure,
Look kindly on me; in my face behold

The lineaments of her's you've kiss'd so often,
Pleading the cause of your poor cast-off child.
Priu. Thou art my daughter.

Belv. Yes and you've oft told me

With smiles of love, and chaste paternal kisses,
I'd much resemblance of my mother.

Priu. Oh!

Hadst thou inherited her matchless virtues,
I'd been too blest.

Belv. Nay, do not call to memory

My disobedience, but let pity enter

Into your heart, and quite deface th' impression.
For could you think how mine's perplex'd, what sadness,
Fears and despairs distract the peace within me,
Oh! you would take me in your dear, dear arms,
Hover with strong compassion o'er your young one,
To shelter me with a protecting wing,

From the black gather'd storm, that's just, just breaking,

Priu. Don't talk thus.

Belv. Yes, I must, and you must hear too.

I have a husband.

Priu. Damn him.

Belv. Oh! do not curse him;

He would not speak so hard a word towards
On any terms, howe'er he deal with me.
Priu. Hah! what means my child?

you

Belv. Oh, there's but this short moment
"Twixt me and fate: yet send me not with curses
Down to my grave; afford me one kind blessing
Before we part; just take me in your arms,
And recommend me with a pray'r to heaven,
That I may die in peace; and when I'm dead-
Priu. How my soul's catch'd!

Belv. Lay me, I beg you, lay me
By the dear ashes of my tender mother.

She would have pitied me, had fate yet spar'd her. Priu. By heav'n, my aching heart forebodes much mischief.

Tell me thy story, for I'm still thy father.

Belv. No, I'm contented.

Priu. Speak.

Belv. No matter.

Priu. Tell me.

By yon blest heav'n, my heart runs o'er with fondness. Belv. Oh!

Priu. Utter't.

Belv. Oh, my husband, my dear husband
Carries a dagger in his once kind bosom,
To pierce the heart of your poor Belvidera.
Priu. Kill thee?

Belv. Yes, kill me. When he pass'd his faith
And covenant against your state and senate,
He gave me up as hostage for his truth;
With me a dagger, and dire commission,
Whene'er he fail'd, to plunge it thro' this bosom.
I learnt the danger, chose the hour of love
Tattempt his heart, and bring it back to honour.