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Fond of its goal, and labouring to be at thee ;
What shall I do : what say to make thee hear me?
Pier. Haft thou not wrong'd me? dar'ft thou call thyself
That once lov'd valu'd friend of mine,
And swear thou hast not wrong'd me? Whence these chains?
Whence the vile death, which I may meet this
moment! Whence this dishonour, but from thee, thou false one? JAFF., All's true ; yet grant one thing, and I've done
asking Pier, What's that?
JAFF. To take thy life on such conditions
The council have propos’d: thou and thy friend
May yet live long, and to be better treated.
Prer. Life! ask my life! confefs ! record myself
A villain for the privilege to breathe,
And carry up and down this cursed city
A discontented and repining spirit,
Burdensome to itself, a few years longer,
To lose it, may be at last, in a lewd quarrel
For some new friend, treacherous and false as thou art !
No, thiş vile world and I have long been jangling,
And cannot part on better terms than now,
When only men like thee are fit to live in't.
Jaff. By all that's just
Pier. Swear by some other powers,
For thou hast broken that facred oath too lately.
JAFF. Then by that hell I merit, I'll not leave thee,
'Till to thyself at least thou'rt reconcil'd,
However thy resentment deal with me.
Pier. Not leave me!
JAFF. No; shalt not force me from thee; Use me reproachfully, and like a flave;
Tread on me, buffet me, heap wrongs on wrongs
On my poor head; I'll bear it all with patience;
I'll weary out thy most friendly cruelty :
Lie at thy feet and kifs 'em, tho they spurn me,
Till wounded by my sufferings thou relent,
And raise me to thy arms with dear forgiveness.
Pier. Art thou not
PIER. A traitor?
PIER. A villain ?
Per. A coward, a moft scandalous coward,
Spiritless, void of honour, one who has sold
Thy everlasting fame for fhameless life?
Jaff. All, all, and more, much more: my faults are
numberless. Pier. And would'At thou have me live on terms like thine; Base as thou’rt falfe
Jaff. No; 'tis to me that's granted:
The safety of thy life was all I aim'd at,
In recompence for faith and traft fo broken.
Pier. I scorn it more, because preserv'd by thee;
And as when first my foolish heart took pity
On thy misfortunes, fought thee in thy miferies,
Reliey'd thy wants, and rais'd thee from thy ftate
Of wretchedness, in which thy fate had plung'd thee,
To rank thee in my list of noble friends;
All I receiv'd, in surety for thy truth,
Were unregarded oaths, and this, this dagger,
Given with a worthless pledge thou fince haft stol'n:
So I refore it back to thee again;
Swearing by all those powers which thou hast violated,
Never from this curs'd hour to hold communion,
Friendship, or interest with thee, tho' our years
Were to exceed those limited the world.
Take it-Farewel, for now I owe thee nothing.
JAFF. Say thou wilt live then.
Pier. For my life, dispose of it
Just as thou wilt, because 'tis what I'm tir'd with.
JAFF. Oh Pierre !
Pier. No more.
Jaff. My eyes won't loose the fight of thee,
But languish after thine, and ache with gazing.
Pier. Leave me-Nay, then thus, thus I throw thee
And curses, great as is thy falsehood, catch thee.
Edw. ET me have no intruders; above all,
Keep Warwick from my fight
War. Behold him here;
No welcome guest, it seems, unless I ask
My lord of Suffolk's leave-there was a time
When Warwick wanted not his aid to gain
Edw. There was a time, perhaps,
When Warwick more desir'd, and more desery'dit.
War. Never ; I've been a foolish faithful fláve;
All my belt years, the morning of my life,
Hath been devoted to your service: what
Are now the fruits ? Disgrace and infamy;
My spotless name, which never yet the breath
Of calumny had tainted, made the mock
For foreign fools to carp at: but 'tis fit
Who trust in princes, should be thus rewarded.
Edw. I thought, my lord, I had full well repay'd
Your services with honours, wealth, and pow'r
Unlimited : thy all-directing hand
Guided in secret ev'ry latent wheel
Of government, and mov'd the whole machine:
Warwick was all in all, and pow'rleis Edward
Stood like a cypher in the great account.
War. Who gave that cypher worth, and feated thee
On England's throne? Thy undistinguish'd name
Had rotted in the dust from whence it sprang,
And moulder'd in oblivion, had not Warwick
Dug from its sordid mine the useless ore,
And stamp'd it with a diadem. Thou know'it
This wretched country, doom'd, perhaps, like Rome,
To fall by its own felf-destroying hand,
Toft for so many years in the rough sea
Of civil discord, but for me had perish'd,
In that distressful hour I seiz'd the helm,
Bade the rough waves fubside in peace, and steer'd
Your shatter'd vefsel safe into the harbour.
You may despise, perhaps, that useless aid
Which you no longer want; but know, proud youth,
He who forgets a friend, deserves a foe.
Edw. Know too, reproach for benefits receiv'd
Pays ev'ry debt, and cancels obligation.
WAR Why, that indeed is frugal honesty,
A thrifty saving knowledge : when the debt
Grows burdensome, and cannot be discharg'd,
A spunge will wipe out all, and cost you nothing. .
have counted o'er the numerous train Of mighty gifts your bounty lavish'd on me, You may
remember next the injuries Which I have done you; let me know them all, And I will make you ample satisfaction.
War. Thou canst not; thou hast robb'd me of a jewel It is not in thy power to restore : I was the first, fhall future annals say, That broke the facred bond of public trust And mutual confidence; ambassadors, In after times, mere instruments, perhaps, Of venal statesmen, shall recal my name To witness, that they want not an example, And plead my guilt, to fanctify their owá.
Amidst the herd of mercenary flaves That haunt your court, cou'd none be found but Warwick, To be the fhameless herald of a lie
Edw. And would'st thou turn the vile reproach on me?
If I have broke my faith, and stain'd the name
Of England, thank thy own pernicious counsels
That urg'd me to it, and extorted from me
A cold confent to what my heart abhorr'd.
WAR. I've been abus'd, insulted, and betray'd;
My injur'd honour cries aloud for vengeance,
Her wounds will never close!
Edw. These gufts of paflion,
Will but inflame them; if I have been right
Inform’d, my lord, besides thefe dang’rous scars
Of bleeding honour, you have other wounds