would have ta'en her in his arms, Eased her declining head upon his breast, And never left her, till he found the cause. But well I know why you forsake me thus; I am no longer fit to bear a share In your concernments: my weak female virtue Must not be trusted: 'tis too frail and tender. [Crosses, R. Jaf. Oh, Portia, Portia, what a soul was thine! Bel. [Returns to L. C.] That Portia was a woman; and when Brutus, Big with the fate of Rome (Heav'n guard thy safety!)      Concealed from her the labours of his mind, She let him see her blood was great as his, Flowed from a spring as noble, and a heart Fit to partake his troubles, as his love. Fetch, fetch that dagger back, the dreadful dower Thou gav'st last night, in parting with me; strike it Here to my heart; and as the blood flows from it, Judge if it run not pure as Cato's daughter's. Jaf. (R.) Oh, Belvidera! Bel. (C.) Why was I last night delivered to a villain?  [27]     Jaf. Ha! a villain? Bel. (R.) Yes, to a villain! Why, at such an hour, Meets that assembly, all made up of wretches, That look as hell had drawn them into league? Why, I in this hand, and in that, a dagger, Was I delivered with such dreadful ceremonies?      "To you, sirs, and your honours, I bequeath her, And with her, this: Whene'er I prove unworthy—      You know the rest—then strike it to her heart."      Oh! [Turns from him.] why's that rest concealed from me? Must I Be made the hostage of a hellish trust? For such, I know I am; that's all my value. But, by the love and loyalty I owe thee, I'll free thee from the bondage of these slaves! Straight to the senate—tell them all I know, [Going, L. All that I think, all that my fears inform me. Jaf. (C.) Is this the Roman virtue? this the blood, That boasts its purity with Cato's daughter? Would she have e'er betrayed her Brutus? [Going to her Bel. (L.) No; For Brutus trusted her. [Leans on him.] 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 

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