'Twould break thy pitying heart to hear the story.

_Bel._ What has he done?

_Jaf._ Before we parted,
Ere yet his guards had led him to his prison,
Full of severest sorrows for his sufferings,
With eyes o'erflowing, and a bleeding heart,
As at his feet I kneel'd and sued for mercy,
With a reproachful hand he dash'd a blow:
He struck me, Belvidera! by heaven, he struck me!
Buffetted, call'd me traitor, villain, coward.
Am I a coward? Am I a villain? Tell me:
Thou'rt the best judge, and mad'st me, if I am so!
Damnation! Coward!

_Bel._ Oh! forgive him, Jaffier;
And, if his sufferings wound thy heart already,
What will they do tomorrow?

_Jaf._ Ah!

_Bel._ Tomorrow,
When thou shalt see him stretch'd in all the agonies
Of a tormenting and a shameful death;
His bleeding bowels, and his broken limbs,
Insulted o'er, by a vile, butchering villain;
What will thy heart do then? Oh! sure 'twill stream,
Like my eyes now._Jaf._ What means thy dreadful story?
Death, and to-morrow! Broken limbs and bowels!
_Bel._ The faithless senators, 'tis they've decreed it:
They say, according to our friends' request,
They shall have death, and not ignoble bondage:
Declare their promis'd mercy all has forfeited:
False to their oaths, and deaf to intercession,
Warrants are pass'd for public death to-morrow.
_Jaf._ Death! doom'd to die! condemn'd unheard! unpleaded!
_Bel._ Nay, cruel'st racks and torments are preparing
To force confession from their dying pangs.
Oh! do not look so terribly upon me!

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