No More Learning

_Belv. _ Yes; and when thy hands,
Charged with my fate, come trembling to the deed,
As thou hast done a thousand thousand dear times
To this poor breast, when kinder rage has brought thee,
When our stinged hearts have leaped to meet each other,
And melting kisses sealed our lips together,
When joys have left me gasping in thy arms,
So let my death come now, and I'll not shrink from it.

_Jaff. _ Nay, Belvidera, do not fear my cruelty,
Nor let the thoughts of death perplex thy fancy;
But answer me to what I shall demand,
With a firm temper and unshaken spirit.

_Belv. _ I will when I've done weeping--

_Jaff. _ Fie, no more on't.
How long is't since the miserable day
We wedded first?

_Belv. _ Oh!

_Jaff. _ Nay, keep in thy tears,
Lest they unman me too.

_Belv. _ Heaven knows I cannot;
The words you utter sound so very sadly,
These streams will follow--

_Jaff. _ Come, I'll kiss them dry then.

_Belv. _ But was't a miserable day?

_Jaff. _ A cursed one.

_Belv. _ I thought it otherwise; and you've oft sworn
In the transporting hours of warmest love,
When sure you spoke the truth, you've sworn you
blessed it.

_Jaff. _ 'Twas a rash oath.

_Belv. _ Then why am I not cursed too?

_Jaff. _ No, Belvidera; by the eternal truth,
I dote with too much fondness.

_Belv. _ Still so kind!
Still then do you love me?

_Jaff. _ Nature, in her workings,
Inclines not with more ardour to creation,
Than I do now towards thee; man ne'er was blest,
Since the first pair first met, as I have been.

_Belv. _ Then sure you will not curse me?

_Jaff. _ No, I'll bless thee.
I came on purpose, Belvidera, to bless thee.
'Tis now, I think, three years we've lived together.

_Belv. _ And may no fatal minute ever part us,
Till reverend grown, for age and love, we go
Down to one grave, as our last bed, together;
There sleep in peace till an eternal morning!

_Jaff. _ When will that be? [_Sighing. _

_Belv. _ I hope long ages hence.

_Jaff. _ Have I not hitherto--I beg thee tell me
Thy very fears--used thee with tenderest love?
Did e'er my soul rise up in wrath against thee?
Did I e'er frown when Belvidera smiled,
Or, by the least unfriendly word, betray
Abating passion? have I ever wronged thee?

_Belv. _ No.

_Jaff. _ Has my heart, or have my eyes e'er wandered
To any other woman?

_Belv. _ Never, never.
I were the worst of false ones, should I accuse thee.
I own I've been too happy, blest above
My sex's charter.

_Jaff. _ Did I not say I came
To bless thee?

_Belv. _ Yes.

_Jaff. _ Then hear me, bounteous Heaven!
Pour down your blessings on this beauteous head,
Where everlasting sweets are always springing:
With a continual-giving hand, let peace,
Honour, and safety always hover round her;
Feed her with plenty; let her eyes ne'er see
A sight of sorrow, nor her heart know mourning:
Crown all her days with joy, her nights with rest
Harmless as her own thoughts, and prop her virtue
To bear the loss of one that too much loved;
And comfort her with patience in our parting!

_Belv. _ How, parting, parting!

_Jaff. _ Yes, for ever parting;
I have sworn, Belvidera, by yon Heaven,
That best can tell how much I lose to leave thee,
We part this hour for ever.

_Belv. _ Oh, call back
Your cruel blessing; stay with me and curse me!

_Jaff. _ No; 'tis resolved.

_Belv. _ Then hear me too, just Heaven!
Pour down your curses on this wretched head,
With never-ceasing vengeance; let despair,
Danger or infamy, nay, all surround me.
Starve me with wantings; let my eyes ne'er see
A sight of comfort, nor my heart know peace;
But dash my days with sorrow, nights with horrors
Wild as my own thoughts now, and let loose fury
To make me mad enough for what I lose,
If I must lose him--if I must! I will not. --
Oh, turn and hear me!

_Jaff. _ Now hold, heart, or never.

_Belv. _ By all the tender days we have lived together,
By all our charming nights, and joys that crowned them,
Pity my sad condition; speak, but speak!

_Jaff. _ Oh!

_Belv. _ By these arms that now cling round thy neck,
By this dear kiss, and by ten thousand more,
By these poor streaming eyes--

_Jaff. _ Murder! unhold me!
By the immortal destiny that doomed me [_Draws his dagger. _
To this cursed minute, I'll not live one longer.
Resolve to let me go, or see me fall--

_Belv. _ Hold, sir, be patient.

_Jaff. _ Hark, the dismal bell [_Passing-bell tolls. _
Tolls out for death! I must attend its call too;
For my poor friend, my dying Pierre expects me;
He sent a message to require I'd see him
Before he died, and take his last forgiveness.
Farewell for ever!

_Belv. _ Leave thy dagger with me.
Bequeath me something. --Not one kiss at parting?

[JAFFIER, _going out, looks back at her_.

O my poor heart, when wilt thou break?

_Jaff. _ Yet stay,
We have a child, as yet a tender infant:
Be a kind mother to him when I'm gone,
Breed him in virtue and the paths of honour,
But let him never know his father's story;
I charge thee guard him from the wrongs my fate
May do his future fortune, or his name.
Now--nearer yet! [_Approaching each other. _] Oh that my arms
were rivetted
Thus round thee ever! But my friends, my oath--
This, and no more. [_Kisses her. _

_Belv. _ Another, sure another,
For that poor little one you've ta'en care of;
I'll give't him truly.

_Jaff. _ So, now farewell.

_Belv. _ For ever?

_Jaff. _ Heaven knows for ever; all good angels
guard thee! [_Exit. _

_Belv. _ All ill ones sure had charge of me this moment.
Cursed be my days, and doubly cursed my nights,
Which I must now mourn out in widowed tears;
Blasted be every herb, and fruit, and tree;
Cursed be the rain that falls upon the earth,
And may the general curse reach man and beast!
Oh, give me daggers, fire, or water;
How I could bleed, how burn, how drown, the waves
Huzzing and booming round my sinking head,
Till I descended to the peaceful bottom!
Oh, there's all quiet, here all rage and fury;
The air's too thin, and pierces my weak brain;
I long for thick substantial sleep. Hell! hell!
Burst from the centre, rage and roar aloud,
If thou art half so hot, so mad as I am!

_Enter_ PRIULI _and_ Servants.

Who's there?

_Priu. _ Run, seize and bring her safely home;
Guard her as you would life. Alas, poor creature!

[_They seize her. _

_Belv. _ What! to my husband? then conduct me quickly.
Are all things ready? shall we die most gloriously?
Say not a word of this to my old father.
Murmuring streams, soft shades, and springing flowers,
Lutes, laurels, seas of milk, and ships of amber. [_Exeunt. _

[Illustration]


SCENE III. --_A Public Place. A scaffold and wheel in centre. _

_Enter_ Officers, PIERRE, _and_ Guards, _a_ Friar,
Executioner, _and a great_ Rabble.

_Offi. _ Room, room there--stand all by, make room
for the prisoner.

_Pier. _ My friend not come yet?

_Friar. _ Why are you so obstinate?

_Pier. _ Why you so troublesome, that a poor wretch
Can't die in peace,
But you like ravens will be croaking round him?

_Friar. _ Yet Heaven--

_Pier. _ I tell thee Heaven and I are friends:
I ne'er broke peace with it yet, by cruel murders,
Rapine or perjury, or vile deceiving;
But lived in moral justice towards all men;
Nor am a foe to the most strong believers,
Howe'er my own short-sighted faith confine me.

_Friar. _ But an all-seeing Judge--

_Pier. _ You say my conscience
Must be my accuser: I have searched that conscience,
And find no records there of crimes that scare me.

_Friar. _ 'Tis strange you should want faith.

_Pier. _ You want to lead
My reason blindfold, like a hampered lion,
Checked of its nobler vigour; then, when baited
Down to obedient tameness, make it couch,
And show strange tricks, which you call signs of faith:
So silly souls are gulled, and you get money.
Away, no more! Captain, I'd have hereafter
This fellow write no lies of my conversion,
Because he has crept upon my troubled hours.

_Enter_ JAFFIER.

_Jaff. _ Hold: eyes, be dry; heart, strengthen me to bear
This hideous sight, and humble me to take
The last forgiveness of a dying friend,
Betrayed by my vile falsehood to his ruin!
O Pierre!

_Pier. _ Yet nearer.

_Jaff. _ Crawling on my knees,
And prostrate on the earth, let me approach thee:
How shall I look up to thy injured face,
That always used to smile with friendship on me?
It darts an air of so much manly virtue,
That I, methinks, look little in thy sight,
And stripes are fitter for me than embraces.

_Pier. _ Dear to my arms, though thou'st undone my fame,
I can't forget to love thee: pr'ythee, Jaffier,
Forgive that filthy blow my passion dealt thee;
I'm now preparing for the land of peace,
And fain would have the charitable wishes
Of all good men, like thee, to bless my journey.

_Jaff. _ Good! I'm the vilest creature, worse than e'er
Suffered the shameful fate thou'rt going to taste of.
Why was I sent for to be used thus kindly?
Call, call me villain, as I am; describe
The foul complexion of my hateful deeds;
Lead me to the rack, and stretch me in thy stead,
I've crimes enough to give it its full load,
And do it credit: thou wilt but spoil the use on't,
And honest men hereafter bear its figure
About them, as a charm from treacherous friendship.

_Offi. _ The time grows short; your friends are dead already.

_Jaff. _ Dead!

_Pier. _ Yes, dead, Jaffier; they've all died like men too,
Worthy their character.

_Jaff. _ And what must I do?

_Pier. _ Oh, Jaffier!

_Jaff. _ Speak aloud thy burthened soul,
And tell thy troubles to thy tortured friend!

_Pier. _ Friend! Couldst thou yet be a friend, a generous friend,
I might hope comfort from thy noble sorrows.
Heaven knows I want a friend!

_Jaff.
_ And I a kind one,
That would not thus scorn my repenting virtue,
Or think, when he's to die, my thoughts are idle.

_Pier. _ No! live, I charge thee, Jaffier.

_Jaff. _ Yes, I will live,
But it shall be to see thy fall revenged
At such a rate as Venice long shall groan for.

_Pier. _ Wilt thou?

_Jaff. _ I will, by Heaven!

_Pier. _ Then still thou'rt noble,
And I forgive thee. Oh--yet--shall I trust thee?

_Jaff. _ No; I've been false already.

_Pier. _ Dost thou love me?

_Jaff. _ Rip up my heart, and satisfy thy doubtings.

_Pier. _ Curse on this weakness! [_He weeps. _

_Jaff. _ Tears! amazement! tears!
I never saw thee melted thus before;
And know there's something labouring in thy bosom
That must have vent: though I'm a villain, tell me.

_Pier. _ Seest thou that engine? [_Pointing to the wheel. _

_Jaff. _ Why?

_Pier. _ Is't fit a soldier, who has lived with honour,
Fought nations' quarrels, and been crowned with conquest,
Be exposed a common carcass on a wheel?

_Jaff. _ Ha!

_Pier. _ Speak! is't fitting?

_Jaff. _ Fitting?

_Pier. _ Yes, is't fitting?

_Jaff. _ What's to be done?

_Pier. _ I'd have thee undertake
Something that's noble, to preserve my memory
From the disgrace that's ready to attaint it.

_Offi. _ The day grows late, sir.

_Pier. _ I'll make haste. Oh, Jaffier,
Though thou'st betrayed me, do me some way justice.

_Jaff. _ No more of that: thy wishes shall be satisfied;
I have a wife, and she shall bleed; my child too
Yield up his little throat, and all to appease thee--

[_Going away_, PIERRE _holds him_.

_Pier. _ No--this--no more! [_He whispers_ JAFFIER.

_Jaff. _ Ha! is't then so?

_Pier. _ Most certainly.

_Jaff. _ I'll do it.

_Pier. _ Remember.

_Offi. _ Sir.

_Pier. _ Come, now I'm ready.

[_He and_ JAFFIER _ascend the scaffold_.

Captain, you should be a gentleman of honour;
Keep off the rabble, that I may have room
To entertain my fate, and die with decency.
Come! [_Takes off his gown. _ Executioner _prepares to bind him_.

_Friar. _ Son!

_Pier. _ Hence, tempter!

_Offi. _ Stand off, priest!

_Pier. _ I thank you, sir.
You'll think on't. [_To_ JAFFIER.

_Jaff. _ 'Twon't grow stale before to-morrow.

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

_Jaff. _ Have at thee, [Executioner _having bound him_.
Thou honest heart, then--here! [_Stabs him. _] And this is well too.

[_Stabs himself. _

_Friar. _ Damnable deed!

_Pier. _ Now thou'st indeed been faithful.
This was done nobly. We have deceived the Senate.

_Jaff. _ Bravely.

_Pier. _ Ha, ha, ha! Oh, oh! [_Dies. _

_Jaff. _ Now, ye cursed rulers,
Thus of the blood you've shed I make libation,
And sprinkle it mingling: may it rest upon you,
And all your race! Be henceforth peace a stranger
Within your walls! Let plagues and famine waste
Your generations! --O 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. _

_Offi. _ Bear this news to the Senate,
And guard their bodies till there's farther order:
Heaven grant I die so well! [_The Scene closes. _


[Illustration]


SCENE IV. --_A Room in_ PRIULI'S _House_.

_Soft Music. Enter_ BELVIDERA _distracted, led by two_
_of her_ Women, PRIULI, _and_ Servants.

_Priu. _ Strengthen her heart with patience, pitying Heaven!

_Belv. _ 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!
You're angry now; who cares? pish, no, indeed!
Choose then; I say you shall not go, you shall not.
Whip your ill-nature; get you gone then--oh!

[JAFFIER'S Ghost _rises_.

Are you returned? See, father, here he's come again:
Am I to blame to love him? O, thou dear one! [Ghost _sinks_.
Why do you fly me? are you angry still then?
Jaffier! where art thou? Father, why do you do thus?
Stand off, don't hide him from me. He's here somewhere.
Stand off, I say! what, gone? remember it, tyrant!
I may revenge myself for this trick one day.
I'll do't--I'll do't. Renault's a nasty fellow:
Hang him, hang him, hang him!

_Enter_ Officer _and others_.

_Priu. _ News--what news? [Officer _whispers_ PRIULI.

_Offi. _ Most sad, sir.
Jaffier, upon the scaffold, to prevent
A shameful death, stabbed Pierre, and next himself:
Both fell together.

_Priu. _ Daughter!

[_The_ Ghosts _of_ JAFFIER _and_
PIERRE _rise together, both bloody_.

_Belv. _ Ha, look there!
My husband bloody, and his friend too! Murder!
Who has done this? speak to me, thou sad vision; [Ghosts _sink_.
On these poor trembling knees I beg it. Vanished! --
Here they went down. Oh, I'll dig, dig the den up.
You shan't delude me thus. Ho, Jaffier, Jaffier,
Peep up and give me but a look. I have him!
I've got him, father: oh, now how I'll smuggle him!
My love! my dear! my blessing! help me! help me!
They've hold on me, and drag me to the bottom.
Nay--now they pull so hard--farewell! [_Dies. _

_Maid. _ She's dead--
Breathless and dead.

_Priu. _ Then guard me from the sight on't.
Lead me into some place that's fit for mourning,
Where the free air, light, and the cheerful sun
May never enter; hang it round with black;
Set up one taper that may last a day,
As long as I've to live; and there all leave me,--
Sparing no tears when you this tale relate;
But bid all cruel fathers dread my fate. [_Exeunt. _

[Illustration]

FOOTNOTES:

[77] This was the burden of many songs of that period, as in the
following:

"We'll drive the doctors out of doors,
And parts whate'er they be,
We'll cry all parts and learning down,
And _heigh then up go we_. "

_Collec. of Songs_, 1731. --_Thornton. _



[Illustration:




EPILOGUE]


The text is done, and now for application,
And when that's ended, pass your approbation.
Though the conspiracy's prevented here,
Methinks I see another hatching there;
And there's a certain faction fain would sway,
If they had strength enough, and damn this play.
But this the author bade me boldly say:--
If any take his plainness in ill part,
He's glad on't from the bottom of his heart;
Poets in honour of the truth should write,
With the same spirit brave men for it fight;
And though against him causeless hatreds rise,
And daily where he goes of late, he spies
The scowls of sullen and revengeful eyes,
'Tis what he knows with much contempt to bear,
And serves a cause too good to let him fear.
He fears no poison from an incensed drab,
No ruffian's five-foot-sword, nor rascal's stab,
Nor any other snares of mischief laid,--
Not a Rose-alley cudgel-ambuscade,[78]
From any private cause where malice reigns,
Or general pique all blockheads have to brains:
Nothing shall daunt his pen when truth does call--
No, not the picture-mangler[79] at Guildhall.
The rebel tribe, of which that vermin's one,
Have now set forward, and their course begun;
And while that prince's figure they deface,
As they before had massacred his name,
Durst their base fears but look him in the face,
They'd use his person as they've used his fame:
A face in which such lineaments they read
Of that great martyr's, whose rich blood they shed,
That their rebellious hate they still retain,
And in his son would murder him again.
With indignation, then, let each brave heart
Rouse and unite to take his injured part;
Till Royal love and goodness call him home,[80]
And songs of triumph meet him as he come;
Till Heaven his honour and our peace restore,
And villains never wrong his virtue more.

FOOTNOTES:

[78] This refers to the attack upon Dryden in Rose Street, Covent
Garden, in December 1679--made by order of Rochester in consequence,
it is supposed, of Dryden being reputed the author of the _Essay on
Satire_. The preceding verse probably contains an allusion to the
stabbing of Mr.