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'rs 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 in the world.
Take it--farewell--for now I owe thee nothing.

_Jaf._ Say thou wilt live then.

_Pier._ For my life, dispose it
Just as thou wilt, because 'tis what I'm tir'd with.

_Jaf._ Oh, Pierre!

_Pier._ No more.

_Jaf._ My eyes won't lose the sight of thee,
But languish after thee, and ache with gazing.

_Pier._ Leave me--Nay, then thus, thus I throw thee from me;

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