_Arb_.
If there be any thing in which I may
Do good to any creature, here speak out; For I must leave you: and it troubles me, That my occasions for the good of you,
Are such as call me from you: else, my joy Would be to spend my days among you all.
You shew your loves in these large multitudes That come to meet me, I will pray for you, Heaven prosper you, that you may know old years, And live to see your childrens children sit At your boards with plenty: when there is A want of any thing, let it be known
To me, and I will be a Father to you:
God keep you all.
[_ Flourish. Exeunt Kings and their Train_.
_ All_.
God bless your Majesty, God bless your Majesty.
_1_.
Come, shall we go? all's done.
_ Wom_.
I for God sake, I have not made a fire yet.
_2_.
Away, away, al 's done.
_3_.
Content, farewel _Philip_.
_1 Cit_.
Away you halter-sack you.
_2_.
_Philip_ will not fight, he's afraid on's face.
_ Phil_.
I marry am I afraid of my face.
_3_.
Thou wouldst be _Philip_ if thou sawst it in a glass; it looks so like a Visour.
[_Exeunt _2_., _3_., and Woman_.
_1 Cit_.
You'l be hang'd sirra: Come _Philip_ walk before us homewards; did not his Majesty say he had brought us home Pease for al our money?
_2 Cit_.
Yes marry did he.
_1 Cit_.
They're the first I heard of this year by my troth, I longed for some of 'em: did he not say we should have some?
_2 Cit_.
Yes, and so we shal anon I warrant you have every one a peck brought home to our houses.
_Actus Tertius_.
_Enter_ Arbaces _and_ Gobrias.
_Arb_.
My Sister take it ill?
_Gob_.
Not very ill.
Something unkindly she does take it Sir to have Her Husband chosen to her hands.
_Arb_.
Why _Gobrias_ let her, I must have her know, my will and not her own must govern her: what will she marry with some slave at home?
_Gob_.
O she is far from any stubbornness, you much mistake her, and no doubt will like where you would have her, but when you behold her, you will be loth to part with such a jewel.
_Arb_.
To part with her? why _Gobrias_, art thou mad? she is my Sister.
_Gob_.
Sir, I know she is: but it were pity to make poor our Land, with such a beauty to enrich another.
_Arb_.
Pish will she have him?
_Gob_.
I do hope she will not, I think she will Sir.
_Arb_.
Were she my Father and my Mother too, and all the names for which we think folks friends, she should be forc't to have him when I know 'tis fit: I will not hear her say she's loth.
_Gob_.
Heaven bring my purpose luckily to pass, you know 'tis just, she will not need constraint she loves you so.
_Arb_.
How does she love me, speak?
_Gob_.
She loves you more than people love their health, that live by labour; more than I could love a man that died for me, if he could live again.
_Arb_.
She is not like her mother then.
_Gob_.
O no, when you were in _Armenia_,
I durst not let her know when you were hurt: For at the first on every little scratch, She kept her Chamber, wept, and could not eat, Till you were wel , and many times the news Was so long coming, that before we heard She was as near her death, as you your health.
_Arb_.
Alas poor soul, but yet she must be rul'd; I know not how I shall requite her well.
I long to see her, have you sent for her, To tell her I am ready?
_Gob_.
Sir I have.
_Enter_ 1 Gent, _and_ Tigranes.
_1 Gent_.
Sir, here is the _Armenian_ King.
_Arb_.
He's welcome.
_1 Gent_.
And the Queen-mother, and the Princess wait without.
_Arb_.
Good _Gobrias_ bring 'em in.
_Tigranes_, you will think you are arriv'd In a strange Land, where Mothers cast to poyson Their only Sons; think you you shall be safe?
_Tigr_.
Too safe I am Sir.
_Enter_ Gobrias, Arane, Panthea, Spaconia, Bacurius, Mardonius _and_ Bessus, _and two Gentlemen_.
_ Ara_.
As low as this I bow to you, and would
As low as is my grave, to shew a mind
Thankful for al your mercies.
_Arb_.
O stand up,
And let me kneel, the light will be asham'd To see observance done to me by you.
_ Ara_.
You are my King.
_Arb_.
You are my Mother, rise;
As far be all your faults from your own soul, As from my memory; then you shall be
As white as innocence her self.
_ Ara_.
I came
Only to shew my duty, and acknowledge
My sorrows for my sins; longer to stay
Were but to draw eyes more attentively
Upon my shame, that power that kept you safe From me, preserve you still.
_Arb_.
Your own desires shall be your guide.
[_Exit_ Arane.
_Pan_.
Now let me die, since I have seen my Lord the King Return in safetie, I have seen all good that life Can shew me; I have ne're another wish
For Heaven to grant, nor were it fit I should; For I am bound to spend my age to come, In giving thanks that this was granted me.
_Gob_.
Why does not your Majesty speak?
_Arb_.
To whom?
_Gob_.
To the Princess.
_Pan_.
Alas Sir, I am fearful, you do look
On me, as if I were some loathed thing
That you were finding out a way to shun.
_Gob_.
Sir, you should speak to her.
_Arb_.
Ha?
_Pan_.
I know I am unworthy, yet not ill arm'd, with which innocence here I will kneel, till I am one with earth, but I will gain some words and kindness from you.
_Tigr_.
Will you speak Sir?
_Arb_.
Speak, am I what I was?
What art thou that dost creep into my breast, And dar'st not see my face? shew forth thy self: I feel a pair of fiery wings displai'd
Hither, from hence; you shal not tarry there, Up, and be gone, if thou beest Love be gone: Or I will tear thee from my wounded breast, Pul thy lov'd Down away, and with thy Quill By this right arm drawn from thy wonted wing, Write to thy laughing Mother i'thy bloud, That you are powers bely'd, and all your darts Are to be blown away, by men resolv'd,
Like dust; I know thou fear'st my words, away.
_Tigr_.
O misery! why should he be so slow?
There can no falshood come of loving her; Though I have given my faith; she is a thing Both to be lov'd and serv'd beyond my faith: I would he would present me to her quickly.
_Pan_.
Will you not speak at all? are you so far From kind words? yet to save my modesty, That must talk till you answer, do not stand As you were dumb, say something, though it be Poyson'd with anger, that it may strike me dead.
_Mar_.
Have you no life at all? for man-hood sake Let her not kneel, and talk neglected thus; A tree would find a tongue to answer her, Did she but give it such a lov'd respect.
_Arb_.
You mean this Lady: lift her from the earth; why do you let her kneel so long? Alas, Madam, your beauty uses to command, and not to beg. What is your sute to me? it shal be granted, yet the time is short, and my affairs are great: but where's my Sister? I bade she should be brought.
_Mar_.
What, is he mad?
_Arb.
Gobrias,_ where is she?
_Gob_.
Sir.
_Arb_.
Where is she man?
_Gob._
Who, Sir?
_Arb_.
Who, hast thou forgot my Sister?
_Gob_.
Your Sister, Sir?
_Arb_.
Your Sister, Sir? some one that hath a wit, answer, where is she?
_Gob_.
Do you not see her there?
_Arb_.
Where?
_Gob_.
There.
_Arb_.
There, where?
_Mar_.
S'light, there, are you blind?
_Arb_.
Which do you mean, that little one?
_Gob_.
No Sir.
_Arb_.
No Sir? why, do you mock me? I can see
No other here, but that petitioning Lady.
_Gob_.
That's she.
_Arb_.
Away.
_Gob_.
Sir, it is she.
_Arb_.
'Tis false.
_Gob_.
Is it?
_Arb_.
As hel , by Heaven, as false as hel ,
My Sister: is she dead? if it be so,
Speak boldly to me; for I am a man,
And dare not quarrel with Divinity;
And do not think to cozen me with this: I see you al are mute and stand amaz'd, Fearful to answer me; it is too true,
A decreed instant cuts off ev'ry life,
For which to mourn, is to repine; she dy'd A Virgin, though more innocent than sheep, As clear as her own eyes, and blessedness Eternal waits upon her where she is:
I know she could not make a wish to change Her state for new, and you shal see me bear My crosses like a man; we al must die, And she hath taught us how.
_Gob_.
Do not mistake,
And vex your self for nothing; for her death Is a long life off, I hope: 'Tis she,
And if my speech deserve not faith, lay death Upon me, and my latest words shal force A credit from you.
_Arb_.
Which, good Gobrias? that Lady dost thou mean?
_Gob_.
That Lady Sir,
She is your Sister, and she is your Sister That loves you so, 'tis she for whom I weep, To see you use her thus.
_Arb_.
It cannot be.
_Tigr_.
Pish, this is tedious,
I cannot hold, I must present my self,
And yet the sight of my _Spaconia_
Touches me, as a sudden thunder-clap
Does one that is about to sin.
_Arb_.
Away,
No more of this; here I pronounce him Traytor, The direct plotter of my death, that names Or thinks her for my Sister, 'tis a lie, The most malicious of the world, invented To mad your King; he that will say so next, Let him draw out his sword and sheath it here, It is a sin ful y as pardonable:
She is no kin to me, nor shall she be;
If she were ever, I create her none:
And which of you can question this? My power Is like the Sea, that is to be obey'd,
And not disputed with: I have decreed her As far from having part of blood with me, As the nak'd _indians_; come and answer me, He that is boldest now; is that my Sister?
_Mar_.
O this is fine.
_Bes_.
No marry, she is not, an't please your Majesty, I never thought she was, she's nothing like you.
_Arb_.
No 'tis true, she is not.
_Mar_.
Thou shou'dst be hang'd.
_Pan_.
Sir, I will speak but once; by the same power You make my blood a stranger unto yours, You may command me dead, and so much love A stranger may importune, pray you do;
If this request appear too much to grant, Adopt me of some other Family,
By your unquestion'd word; else I shall live Like sinfull issues that are left in streets By their regardless Mothers, and no name Will be found for me.
_Arb_.
I will hear no more,
Why should there be such musick in a voyce, And sin for me to hear it? Al the world May take delight in this, and 'tis damnation For me to do so: You are fair and wise
And vertuous I think, and he is blest
That is so near you as my brother is;
But you are nought to me but a disease; Continual torment without hope of ease; Such an ungodly sickness I have got,
That he that undertakes my cure, must first O'rethrow Divinity, al moral Laws,
And leave mankind as unconfin'd as beasts, Al owing 'em to do all actions
As freely as they drink when they desire.
Let me not hear you speak again; yet see I shal but lang[u]ish for the want of that, The having which, would kill me: No man here Offer to speak for her; for I consider
As much as you can say; I will not toil My body and my mind too, rest thou there, Here's one within will labour for you both.
_Pan_.
I would I were past speaking.
_Gob_.
Fear not Madam,
The King will alter, 'tis some sudden rage, And you shal see it end some other way.
_Pan_.
Pray heaven it do.
_Tig_.
Though she to whom I swore, be here, I cannot Stifle my passion longer; if my father
Should rise again disquieted with this, And charge me to forbear, yet it would out.
Madam, a stranger, and a pris'ner begs
To be bid welcome.
_Pan_.
You are welcome, Sir,
I think, but if you be not, 'tis past me To make you so: for I am here a stranger, Greater than you; we know from whence you come, But I appear a lost thing, and by whom
Is yet uncertain, found here i'th' Court, And onely suffer'd to walk up and down, As one not worth the owning.
_Spa_.
O, I fear
_Tigranes_ will be caught, he looks, me-thinks, As he would change his eyes with her; some help There is above for me, I hope.
_Tigr_.
Why do you turn away, and weep so fast, And utter things that mis-become your looks, Can you want owning?
_Spa_.
O 'tis certain so.
_Tigr_.
Acknowledge your self mine.
_Arb_.
How now?
_Tigr_.
And then see if you want an owner.
_Arb_.
They are talking.
_Tigr_.
Nations shall owne you for their Queen.
_Arb_.
_Tigranes_, art not thou my prisoner?
_Tigr_.
I am.
_Arb_.
And who is this?
_Tigr_.
She is your Sister.
_Arb_.
She is so.
_Mar_.
Is she so again? that's well.
_Arb_.
And then how dare you offer to change words with her?
_Tigr_.
Dare do it! Why? you brought me hither Sir, To that intent.
_Arb_.
Perhaps I told you so,
If I had sworn it, had you so much fol y To credit it? The least word that she speaks Is worth a life; rule your disordered tongue, Or I will temper it.
_Spa_.
Blest be the breath.
_Tigr_.
Temper my tongue! such incivilities
As these, no barbarous people ever knew: You break the lawes of Nature, and of Nations, You talk to me as if I were a prisoner
For theft: my tongue be temper'd? I must speak If thunder check me, and I will.
_Arb_.
You will?
_Spa_.
Alas my fortune.
_Tigr_.
Do not fear his frown, dear Madam, hear me.
_Arb_.
Fear not my frown? but that 'twere base in me To fight with one I know I can o'recome, Again thou shouldst be conquer'd by me.
_Mar_.
He has one ransome with him already; me-thinks
'T were good to fight double, or quit.
_Arb_.
Away with him to prison: Now Sir, see
If my frown be regardless; Why delay you?
Seise him _Bacurius_, you shal know my word Sweeps like a wind, and all it grapples with, Are as the chaffe before it.
_Tigr_.
Touch me not.
_Arb_.
Help there.
_Tigr_.
Away.
_1 Gent_.
It is in vain to struggle.
_2 Gent_.
You must be forc'd.
_Bac_.
Sir, you must pardon us, we must obey.
_Arb_.
Why do you dally there? drag him away
By any thing.
_Bac_.
Come Sir.
_Tigr_.
Justice, thou ought'st to give me strength enough To shake al these off; This is tyrannie, _Arbaces_, sutler than the burning Bul s, Or that fam'd _Titans_ bed. Thou mightst as well Search i'th' deep of Winter through the snow For half starv'd people, to bring home with thee, To shew 'em fire, and send 'em back again, As use me thus.
_Arb_.
Let him be close, _Bacurius_.
[_Exeunt_ Tigr. _And_ Bac.
_Spa_.
I ne're rejoyc'd at any ill to him,
But this imprisonment: what shal become Of me forsaken?
_Gob_.
You will not let your Sister
Depart thus discontented from you, Sir?
_Arb_.
By no means _Gobrias_, I have done her wrong, And made my self believe much of my self, That is not in me: You did kneel to me, Whilest I stood stubborn and regardless by, And like a god incensed, gave no ear
To al your prayers: behold, I kneel to you, Shew a contempt as large as was my own, And I will suffer it, yet at the last forgive me.
_Pan_.
O you wrong me more in this,
Than in your rage you did: you mock me now.
_Arb_.
Never forgive me then, which is the worst Can happen to me.
_Pan_.
If you be in earnest,
Stand up and give me but a gentle look, And two kind words, and I shall be in heaven.
_Arb_.
Rise you then to hear; I acknowledge thee My hope, the only jewel of my life,
The best of Sisters, dearer than my breath, A happiness as high as I could think;
And when my actions cal thee otherwise, Perdition light upon me.
_Pan_.
This is better
Than if you had not frown'd, it comes to me, Like mercie at the block, and when I leave To serve you with my life, your curse be with me.
_Arb_.
Then thus I do salute thee, and again,
To make this knot the stronger, Paradise Is there: It may be you are yet in doubt, This third kiss blots it out, I wade in sin, And foolishly intice my self along;
Take her away, see her a prisoner
In her own chamber closely, _Gobrias_.
_Pan_.
Alas Sir, why?
_Arb_.
I must not stay the answer, doe it.
_Gob_.
Good Sir.
_Arb_.
No more, doe it I say.
_Mard_.
This is better and better.
_Pan_.
Yet hear me speak.
_Arb_.
I will not hear you speak,
Away with her, let no man think to speak For such a creature; for she is a witch, A prisoner, and a Traitor.
_Gob_.
Madam, this office grieves me.
_Pan_.
Nay, 'tis well the king is pleased with it.
_Arb_.
_Bessus_, go you along too with her; I will prove Al this that I have said, if I may live So long; but I am desperately sick,
For she has given me poison in a kiss;
She had't betwixt her lips, and with her eyes She witches people: go without a word.
[_Exeunt_ Gob. Pan. Bes. _And_ Spaconia.
Why should you that have made me stand in war Like fate it self, cutting what threds I pleas'd, Decree such an unworthy end of me,
And al my glories? What am I, alas,
That you oppose me? if my secret thoughts Have ever harbour'd swel ings against you, They could not hurt you, and it is in you To give me sorrow, that will render me
Apt to receive your mercy; rather so,
Let it be rather so, than punish me
With such unmanly sins: Incest is in me Dwelling already, and it must be holy
That pul s it thence, where art _Mardonius_?
_Mar_.
Here Sir.
_Arb_.
I pray thee bear me, if thou canst,
Am I not grown a strange weight?
_Mar_.
As you were.
_Arb_.
No heavier?
_Mar_.
No Sir.
_Arb_.
Why, my legs
Refuse to bear my body; O _Mardonius_,
Thou hast in field beheld me, when thou knowst I could have gone, though I could never run.
_Mar_.
And so I shal again.
_Arb_.
O no, 'tis past.
_Mar_.
Pray you go rest your self.
_Arb_.
Wilt thou hereafter when they talk of me, As thou shalt hear nothing but infamy,
Remember some of those things?
_Mar_.
Yes I will.
_Arb_.
I pray thee do: for thou shalt never see me so again.
[_Exeunt_.
_Enter Bessus alone_.
_Bes_.
They talk of fame, I have gotten it in the wars; and will afford any man a reasonable penny-worth: some will say, they could be content to have it, but that it is to be atchiev'd with danger; but my opinion is otherwise: for if I might stand still in Cannon-proof, and have fame fall upon me, I would refuse it: my reputation came principally by thinking to run away, which no body knows but _Mardonius_, and I think he conceals it to anger me. Before I went to the warrs, I came to the Town a young fellow, without means or parts to deserve friends; and my empty guts perswaded me to lie, and abuse people for my meat, which I did, and they beat me: then would I fast two days, till my hunger cri'd out on me, rail still, then me-thought I had a monstrous stomach to abuse 'em again, and did it. I, this state I continu'd till they hung me up by th' heels, and beat me wi'
hasle sticks, as if they would have baked me, and have cousen'd some body wi'me for Venison: After this I rail'd, and eat quietly: for the whole Kingdom took notice of me for a baffl'd whipt fel ow, and what I said was remembred in mirth but never in anger, of which I was glad; I would it were at that pass again.
After this, heaven calls an Aunt of mine, that left two hundred pound in a cousins hand for me, who taking me to be a gal ant young spirit, raised a company for me with the money and sent me into _Armenia_ with 'em: Away I would have run from them, but that I could get no company, and alone I durst not run. I was never at battail but once, and there I was running, but _Mardonius_ cudgel'd me; yet I got loose at last, but was so fraid, that I saw no more than my shoulders doe, but fled with my whole company amongst my Enemies, and overthrew 'em: Now the report of my valour is come over before me, and they say I was a raw young fellow, but now I am improv'd, a Plague on their eloquence, 't will cost me many a beating; And _Mardonius_ might help this too, if he would; for now they think to get honour on me, and al the men I have abus'd cal me freshly worthily, as they call it by the way of challenge.
_Enter a Gent_.
_3 Gent_.
Good morrow, Captain _Bessus_.
_Bes_.
Good morrow Sir.
_3 Gent_.
I come to speak with you.
_Bes_.
You're very welcome.
_3 Gent_.
From one that holds himself wrong'd by you some three years since: your worth he says is fam'd, and he doth nothing doubt but you will do him right, as beseems a souldier.
_Bes_.
A pox on 'em, so they cry al .
_3 Gent_.
And a slight note I have about me for you, for the delivery of which you must excuse me; it is an office that friendship calls upon me to do, and no way offensive to you; since I desire but right on both sides.
_Bes_.
'Tis a chal enge Sir, is it not?
_3 Gent_.
'Tis an inviting to the field.
_Bes_.
An inviting? O Sir your Mercy, what a Complement he delivers it with? he might as agreeable to my nature present me poison with such a speech: um um um reputation, um um um cal you to account, um um um forc'd to this, um um um with my Sword, um um um like a Gentleman, um um um dear to me, um um um satisfaction: 'Tis very wel Sir, I do accept it, but he must await an answer this thirteen weeks.
_3 Gent_.
Why Sir, he would be glad to wipe off his stain as soon as he could.
_Bes_.
Sir upon my credit I am already ingag'd to two hundred, and twelve, al which must have their stains wip'd off, if that be the word, before him.
_3 Gent_.
Sir, if you be truly ingag'd but to one, he shal stay a competent time.
_Bes_.
Upon my faith Sir, to two hundred and twelve, and I have a spent body, too much bruis'd in battel, so that I cannot fight, I must be plain, above three combats a day: All the kindness I can shew him, is to set him resolvedly in my rowle, the two hundred and thirteenth man, which is something, for I tel you, I think there will be more after him, than before him, I think so; pray you commend me to him, and tel him this.
_3 Gent_.
I will Sir, good morrow to you.
[_Exit 3