Imatges de pàgina
PDF
EPUB

Fond of its goal, and labouring to be at thee;

What fhall 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 fwear thou haft 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 afking.

PIER. What's that?

JAFF. To take thy life on fuch conditions

The council have propos'd: thou and thy friend
May yet live long, and to be better treated.

PIER. Life! afk my life! confefs! record myself
A villain for the privilege to breathe,

And carry up and down this curfed city
A difcontented and repining fpirit,
Burdenfome to itself, a few years longer,

To lofe it, may be at laft, in a lewd quarrel

For fome new friend, treacherous and falfe as thou art!

No, this 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 juft-

PIER. Swear by fome other powers,

For thou haft broken that facred oath too lately.

JAFF. Then by that hell I merit, I'll not leave thee,

Till to thyfelf at leaft thou'rt reconcil'd,

However thy refentment deal with me.

PIER. Not leave me !

JAFF. No; thou shalt not force me from thee;

Ufe me reproachfully, and like a flave;

Trea

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 moft unfriendly cruelty :
Lie at thy feet and kifs 'em, tho' they fpurn me,
Till wounded by my fufferings thou relent,
And raise me to thy arms with dear forgiveness
PIER. Art thou not-

JAFF. What?

PIER. A traitor?

JAFF. Yes.

PIER. A villian ?

JAFF. Granted.

PIER. A coward, a moft fcandalous coward, Spiritlefs, void of honour, one who has fold Thy everlasting fame for fhameless life?

7

JAFF. All, all, and more, much more: my faults are numberlefs.

PIER. And would'st thou have me live on terms like thine ; Bafe as thou'rt falfe

JAFF. No; 'tis to me that's granted :

The fafety of thy life was all I aim'd at,

In recompence for faith and truft fo broken.

PIER. Ifcorn it more, becaufe preferv'd by thee;

And as when firft my foolish heart took pity
On thy misfortunes, fought thee in thy miseries,
Reliev'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 furety for thy truth,
Were unregarded oaths, and this, this dagger,

Given with a worthlets pledge thou fince haft ftol'n :
So I restore it back to thee again;

[blocks in formation]

Swearing by all those powers which thou hast violated,
Never from this curs'd hour to hold communion,
Friendship, or intereft with thee, tho' our years
Were to exceed thofe 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

Juft as thou wilt, becaufe 'tis what I'm tir'd with.
JAFF. Oh Pierre !

PIER. No more.

JAFF. My eyes won't lofe the fight of thee, But languish after thine, and ache with gazing.

PIER. Leave me-Nay, then thus, thus I throw thee

from me;

And curfes, great as is thy falfehood, catch thee.

[blocks in formation]

WAR. Behold him here;

No welcome gueft, it seems, unless I ask
My lord of Suffolk's leave-there was a time
When Warwick wanted not his aid to gain

Admiffion here.

EDW. There was a time, perhaps,

When Warwick, more defir'd, and more—deferv'd it.
WAR. Never! I've been a foolish faithful flave ;

All my best years, the morning of my life,

Hath

Hath been devoted to your service: what
Are now the fruits; Difgrace 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, fhould be thus rewarded.

EDW. I thought, my lord, I had full well repay'd Your fervices with honours, wealth and pow'r Unlimited thy all-directing hand

Guided in fecret ev'ry latent wheel

Of government, and mov'd the whole machine :
Warwick was all in all, and pow'rless Edward
Stood like a cypher in the great account.
WAR. Who gave
that cypher worth, and seated thee
On England's throne? Thy undiftinguish'd name
Had rotted in the duft from whence it sprang,
And moulder'd in oblivion, had not Warwick
Dug from its fordid mine the useless ore,
And ftamp'd it with a diadem. Thou know'st
This wretched country, doom'd, perhaps, like Rome,
To fall by its own felf-deftroying hand,

Toft for so many years in the rough sea
Of civil difcord, but for me had perifh'd.

In that diftreisful hour I feiz'd the helm,

Bade the rough waves subside in peace, and steer'd
Your fhatter'd veffel safe into the harbour.

You may defpife, perhaps, that useless aid
Which you no longer want; but know, proud youth,
He who forgets a frieffå, deserves a foe.

Edw. Know too, reproach for benefits receiv'd
Pays ev'ry debt, and cancels obligation.
WAR. Why, that indeed is frugal honefty,

A thrifty

A thrifty faving knowledge: when the debt
Grows burdenfome, and cannot be discharg❜d,

A fponge will wipe out all, and coft you nothing.

Epw. When have counted o'er the numerous train you

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 fatisfaction.

WAR. Thou canst not thou haft robb'd me of a jewel

It is not in thy power to restore :

I was the first, shall future annals say,
That broke the facred bond of public truft
And mutual confidence; ambassadors,
In after times, mere inftruments, perhaps,
Of venal statesmen, fhall recal my name
To witnefs, that they want not an example,
And plead my guilt, to fanctify their own.
Amidst the herd of mercenary flaves

- That haunt your court, cou'd none be found but Warwick, To be the shameless herald of a lie?

EDW. And wouldst thou turn the vile reproach on me? If I have broke my faith, and ftain'd the name Of England, thank thy own pernicious counfels That urg'd me to it, and extorted from me A cold confent to what my heart abhorr'd. WAR. I have been abus'd, infulted, and betray'd; My injur'd honour cries aloud for vengeance, Her wounds will never clofe!

EDW. These gufts of paffion,

Will but inflame them; if I have been right
Inform'd, my lord, befides thefe dang❜rous fcars,
Of bleeding honour, you have other wounds.

As

« AnteriorContinua »