Had not a dagger done thee nobler justice? Pier. What whining monk art thou? what holy cheat, That would'st encroach upon my cred'lous ears, And cant'st thus vilely? hence! I know thee not. Jaff. Pier. No, know thee not; what art thou? Jaff. Jaffier, thy friend, thy once lov'd, valu'd friend, Though now deserv'dly scorn'd and us'd most hardly. Pier. Thou Jaffier! thou my once lov'd valu'd friend! By Heav'ns, thou liest; the man so call'd, my friend, Was gen'rous, honest, faithful, just, and valiant, Noble in mind, and in his person lovely, Dear to my eyes, and tender to my heart: But thou a wretched, base, false, worthless coward, Look back and see my sad, sincere submission! What shall I do? what say to make thee hear me? Pier. Hast thou not wrong'd me? dar'st thou call thyself That once beloved, 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 Pier. Life! ask my life! confess! record myself To lose it, may be, at last, in a lewd quarrel For some new friend, treach'rous and false 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 just Pier. Swear by some other pow'rs, For thou hast broke that sacred 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; thou shalt not force me from thee; And raise me to thy arms with dear forgiveness. Pier. Art thou not Jaff. What? Pier. A traitor. Jaff. Yes. Pier. A villain? Jaff. Granted. Pier. A coward, a most scand❜lous coward, Spiritless, void of honour, one who has sold Thy everlasting fame for shameless life? Jaff. All, all, and more, much more: my faults are numberless Pier. And wouldst thou have me live on terms like thine? Base as thou'rt false Jaff. No: 'tis to me that's granted: The safety of thy life was all I aim'd at, Pier. I scorn it more, because preserv'd by thee: All I receiv'd in surety for thy truth Were unregarded oaths, and this, this dagger, Giv'n with a worthless pledge thou since hast stol'n : Swearing by all those pow'rs which thou hast violated Take it.- Farewell, for now I owe thee nothing. Pier. For my life, dispose of't Just as thou wilt, because 'tis what I'm tir'd with. Pier. No more. Jaff. My eyes won't lose the sight of thee, But languish after thine, and ache with gazing. Pier. Leave me-Nay, then thus, thus, I throw thee from me: And curses, great as is thy falsehood, catch thee. VENICE PRESERVED. CHAPTER IX. ORLANDO AND ADAM. Orlan. WHO's there? Adam. What, my young master! Oh, my gentle master! Oh, my sweet master! Oh you memory Of old sir Rowland! Why, what makes you here? Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. Oh, what a world is this, when what is comely Orlan. Why, what's the matter? Adam. Oh, unhappy youth, Come not within these doors; within this roof The enemy of all your graces lives: Your brother-(no; no brother; yet the son,- Of him I was about to call his father) Hath heard your praises, and this night he means He will have other means to cut you off. This is no place: this house is but a butchery; Orlan. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go? Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here. Orlan. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food? Or with a base and boist'rous sword enforce A thievish living on the common road? I rather will subject me to the malice Of a diverted blood, and bloody brother. Adam. But do not so; I have five hundred crowns, The thrifty hire I sav'd under your father, Which I did store to be my foster nurse, When service should in my old limbs lie lame, And unregarded age in corners thrown: Nor did I with unbashful forehead woo Orlan. O good old man, how well in thee appears Adam. Master, go on, and I will follow thee SHAKSPEARE. CHAPTER X. SCROOP AND RICHARD. Scroop. MORE health and happiness betide my Liege, Than can my care-tun'd tongue deliver him! K. Rich. Mine ear is open, and my heart prepar❜d: The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold; Say, is my kingdom lost? Why, 'twas my care; And what loss is it, to be rid of care? Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we? Greater he shall not be; if he serve God, We'll serve him too, and be his fellow so. Revolt our subjects? That we cannot mend; |