Thomas Otway: The Best Plays of the Old DramatistsOtway, Thomas
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Thomas Otway: The Best Plays of the Old Dramatists
Otway, Thomas
English drama -- 17th century; Otway, Thomas, 1652-1685
<i>Jaff.</i> To take thy life on such conditions
The Council have proposed: thou and thy friends
May yet live long, and to be better treated.
<i>Pier.</i> Life! ask my life? confess! record myself
A villain, for the privilege to breathe,
And carry up and down this cursèd 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.
<i>Jaff.</i> By all that's just--
<i>Pier.</i> Swear by some other powers,
For thou hast broke that sacred oath too lately.
<i>Jaff.</i> Then, by that hell I merit, I'll not leave thee,
Till to thyself, at least, thou'rt reconciled,
However thy resentments deal with me.
<i>Pier.</i> Not leave me!
<i>Jaff.</i> 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 them, though they spurn me,
Till, wounded by my sufferings, thou relent,
And raise me to thy arms with dear forgiveness.
<i>Pier.</i> Art thou not--
<i>Jaff.</i> What?
<i>Pier.</i> A traitor?
<i>Jaff.</i> Yes.
<i>Pier.</i> A villain?
<i>Jaff.</i> Granted.
<i>Pier.</i> A coward, a most scandalous coward,
Spiritless, void of honour, one who has sold
Thy everlasting fame for shameless life?
<i>Jaff.</i> All, all, and more, much more: my faults are numberless.
<i>Pier.</i> And wouldst thou have me live on terms like thine?
Base as thou'rt false--
<i>Jaff.</i> No; 'tis to me that's granted.
The safety of thy life was all I aimed at,
In recompense for faith and trust so broken.
<i>Pier.</i> I scorn it more, because preserved by thee:
And as when first my foolish heart took pity
On thy misfortunes, sought thee in thy miseries,
Relieved thy wants, and raised thee from thy state
Of wretchedness in which thy fate had plunged thee,
To rank thee in my list of noble friends,
All I received in surety for thy truth
Were unregarded oaths, and this, this dagger,
Given with a worthless pledge thou since hast stolen,
So I restore it back to thee again;
Swearing by all those powers which thou hast violated,
Never from this cursed hour to hold communion,
Friendship, or interest with thee, though our years
Were to exceed those limited the world.
Take it--farewell!--for now I owe thee nothing.
<i>Jaff.</i> Say thou wilt live then.
<i>Pier.</i> For my life, dispose it
Just as thou wilt, because 'tis what I'm tired with.
<i>Jaff.</i> O Pierre!
<i>Pier.</i> No more.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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