ay meet this moment?
Whence this dishonour, but from thee, thou false one?

_Jaf._ All's true; yet grant one thing, and I've done asking.

_Pier._ What's that?

_Jaf._ To take thy life, on such conditions
The counsel have propos'd: thou, and thy friends,
May yet live long, and to be better treated.

_Pier._ Life! ask my life! confess! record myself
A villain, for the privilege to breathe!
And carry up and down this cursed city,
A discontented and repining spirit,
Burthensome 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, 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.

_Jaf._ By all that's just--

_Pier._ Swear by some other power,
For thou hast broke that sacred oath too lately.

_Jaf._ 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!

_Jaf._ No; thou shalt not force me from thee.
Use me reproachfully, and like a slave;
Tread on me, buffet me, heap wrongs on wrongs
On my poor head; I'll bear it all with patience
Shall weary out thy most unfriendly cruelty:
Lie at thy feet, and kiss 'em, though they spurn me;
Till, wounded by my sufferings, thou relent,
And raise me to thy arms, with dear forgiveness.

_Pier._ Art thou not--

_Jaf._ What?

_Pier._ A traitor?

_Jaf._ Yes.

_Pier._ A villain?

_Jaf._ Granted.

_Pier._ A coward, a most scandalous coward;
Spiritless, void of honour; one who has sold
Thy everlasting fame, for shameless life?

_Jaf._ All, all, and more, much more: my faults are numberless.

_Pier._ And wouldst thou have me live on terms like thine;
Base, as thou art false--

_Jaf._ No; 'tis to me that's granted:
The safety of thy life was all I aim'd at,
In recompense for faith and trust so broken.

_Pier._ I scorn it more, because preserv'd by thee;
And as, when first my foolish heart took pity
On thy misfortunes, sought thee in thy miseries,
Reliev'd thy wants, and rais'd thee from the state
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,
Giv'n with a worthless pledge, thou since hast stol'n,--
So I restore it back to thee again;
Swearing, by all those pow