wild,
Barren as our misfortunes, where my soul
May have its vent, where I may tell aloud
To the high heavens, and ev'ry list'ning planet,
With what a boundless stock my bosom's fraught.

_Jaf._ _[Taking her hand.]_ Oh, Belvidera! doubly I'm a
beggar;
Undone by fortune, and in debt to thee.
Want, worldly want, that hungry meagre fiend,
Is at my heels, and chases me in view.
Canst thou bear cold and hunger? Can these limbs,
Framed for the tender offices of love,
Endure the bitteer gripes of smarting poverty?
When banished by our miseries abroad,
(As suddenly we shall be) to seek, out,
In some far climate, where our names are strangers,
For charitable succour; wilt thou then,
When in a bed of straw we shrink together,
And the bleak winds shall whistle round our heads;
Wilt thou then talk thus to me? Wilt thou then
Hush my cares thus, and shelter me with love?

_Bel._ Oh! I will love thee, even in madness love thee!
Though my distracted senses should forsake me,
I'd find some intervals when my poor heart
Should 'suage itself, and be let loose to thine.
Though the bare earth be all our resting place,
Its roots our food, some cliff our habitation,
I'll make this arm a pillow for thine head;
And, as thou sighing liest, and swelled with sorrow,
Creep to thy bosom, pour the balm of love
Into thy soul, and kiss thee to thy rest; _[Part._
Then praise our God, and watch thee till the morning.

_Jaf._ Hear this, you Heav'ns, and wonder how you made
her!
Reign, reign, ye monarchs, that divide the world;
Busy rebellion ne'er will let you know
Tranquillity and happiness like mine;
Like gaudy ships, the obsequious billows fall,
And rise again, to lift you in your pride;
They wait but for a storm, and then devour you:

_[Belvidera crosses, R._
I, in my private bark already wrecked,
Like a poor merchant, driven to unknown land,
That had, by chance, picked up his choicest treasure,
In one dear casket, and saved only that,

_[Returns to Jaffier_

Since I must wander farther on the shore,
Thus _[Taking her arm,]_ hug my little, but my precious
store,
Resolved to scorn, and trust my fate no more. _[Exeunt, L._

END OF ACT I.

ACT II.

_Scene I.--The Rialto._