CHAPTER IX.

SOUTHAMPTON AND ESSEX.

OFFICER. My Lord,

We bring an order for your execution,

And hope you are prepar'd; for you must die

This very hour.

SOUTH. Indeed! the time is sudden!

Ess. Is death th' event of all my flatter'd hoper
False sex! and Queen more perjur'd than them all!
But die I will without the least complaint;

My soul shall vanish silent as the dew
Attracted by the sun from verdaut fields,

And leaves of weeping flowers. Come, my dear friend,
Partner in fate, give me thy body in

These faithful arms, and now let me tell thee,

And you, my Lords, and Heaven my witness too,

I have no weight, no heaviness on my soul,

But that I've lost my dearest friend his life.

SOUTH. And I protest, by the same Powers divine,

And to the world, 'tis all my happiness,

The greatest bliss my mind yet e'er enjoy'd,

Since we must die, my Lord, to die together.

OFF. The Queen, my Lord Southampton, has been pleas'd

To grant particular mercy to your person;

And has by us sent you a reprieve from death,
With pardon of your treasons, and commands

You to depart immediately from hence.

SOUTH. O my unguarded soul! Sure never was

A man with mercy wounded so before.

Ess. Then I am loose to steer my wand'ring voyage;

Like a bad vessel that has long been cross'd,

And bound by adverse winds, at last gets liberty,

And joyfully makes all the sail she can,

To reach her wish'd-for port

-Angels protect
The Queen; for her my chiefest prayers shall be,
That as in time she spar'd my noble friend,
And owns his crimes worth mercy, may she ne'er

Think so of me too late when I am dead-
Again, Southampton, let me hold thee fast,
For 'tis my last embrace.

SOUTH. O be less kind, my friend, or move less pity, Or I shall sink beneath the weight of sadness!

I weep that I am doom'd to live without you,

And should have smil'd to share the death of Essex.
Ess. O spare this tenderness for one that needs it,
For her that I commit to thee, 'tis all that I
Can claim of my Southampton-

0 my wife!
Methinks that very name should stop thy pity,
And make thee covetous of all as lost
That is not meant to her-be a kind friend
To her, as we have been to one another;
Name not the dying Essex to thy Queen,
Lest it should cost a tear, nor e'er offend her.

SOUTH. Ostay, my Lord; let me have one word more;

One last farewell, before the greedy axe

Shall part my friend, my only friend, from me,

And Essex from himself-I know not what

Are call'd the pangs of death, but sure I am,

I feel an agony that's worse than death

Farewell.

Ess. Why, that's well said---Farewell to thee-on
Then let us part, just like two travellers,
Take distant paths, only this diff'rence is,
Thine is the longest, mine the shortest way-
Now let me go—if there's a throne in Heaven
For the most brave of men and best of friends,
I will bespeak it for Southampton.

SOUTH. And I, while I have life, will hoard thy mem❜ry:

When I am dead, we then shall meet again.

Ess. Till then, farewell.
SOUTH. Till then, farewell,

EARL OF ESSEX.

CHAPTER X.

JAFFIER AND PIERRE.

JAFF. By Heav'n, you stir not!

I must be heard, I must have leave to speak!
Thou hast disgrac'd me, Pierre, by a vile blow!
Had not a dagger done thee nobler justice?
But use me as thou wilt, thou canst not wrong me,
For I am fall'n beneath the basest injuries:
Yet look upon me with an eye of mercy;
With pity and with charity behold me;
Shut not thy heart against a friend's repentance;
But, as there dwells a godlike nature in thee,
Listen with mildness to my supplications.

PIER. What whining monk art thou? what holy cheat,
That wouldst encroach upon my credulous ears,
And cant'st thus vilely? hence! I know thee not.
Not know me, Pierre !

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 generous, 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,
Poor even in soul, and loathsome in thy aspect;
All eyes must shun thee, and all hearts detest thee.
Prithee avoid, nor longer cling thus round me,

1

Like something baneful, that my nature's chill'd at.

JAFF. I have not wrong'd thee; by these tears I have

not;

But still am honest, true, and hope teo, valiant;
My mind still, full of thee, therefore still noble.
Let not thy eyes then shun me, nor thy heart
Detest me utterly: Oh! look upon me,
Look back and see my sad, sincere submission!
How my heart swells, as e'en 'twould burst my bosom,

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

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. Áll'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.

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,
Burdensome to itself, a few years longer,

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 powers,

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;
Use me reproachfully, and like a slave;

Tread on me, buffet me, heap wrongs on wrongs
On

my poor head; I'll hear it all with patience;
I'll weary out thy most uufiiendly 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-→→→→→

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,
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,

Given with a worthless pledge thou since hast stol❜n:
So I restore 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, though our years
Were to exceed those limited the world.'

Take it- -farewell, 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 lose the sight of thee, Bot 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.