_Arb_.
Dare you reprove it?
_Mar_.
No.
_Arb_.
You must be crossing me.
_Mar_.
I have no letters Sir to anger you,
But a dry sonnet of my Corporals
To an old Suttlers wife, and that I'll burn, Sir.
'Tis like to prove a fine age for the Ignorant.
_Arb_.
How darst thou so often forfeit thy life?
Thou know'st 'tis in my power to take it.
_Mar_.
Yes, and I know you wo'not, or if you doe, you'll miss it quickly.
_Arb_.
Why?
_Mar_.
Who shal tel you of these childish fol ies When I am dead? who shall put to his power To draw those vertues out of a flood of humors, When they are drown'd, and make'em shine again?
No, cut my head off:
Then you may talk, and be believed, and grow worse, And have your too self-glorious temper rot Into a deep sleep, and the Kingdom with you, Till forraign swords be in your throats, and slaughter Be every where about you like your flatterers.
Do, kill me.
_Arb_.
Prethee be tamer, good _Mardonius,_
Thou know'st I love thee, nay I honour thee, Believe it good old Souldier, I am thine; But I am rack'd clean from my self, bear with me, Woot thou bear with me my _Mardonius?_
_Enter_ Gobrias.
_Mar_.
There comes a good man, love him too, he's temperate, You may live to have need of such a vertue, Rage is not still in fashion.
_Arb_.
Welcome good _Gobrias_.
_Gob_.
My service and this letter to your Grace.
_Arb_.
From whom?
_Gob_.
From the rich Mine of vertue and beauty, Your mournful Sister.
_Arb_.
She is in prison, _Gobrias,_ is she not?
_Gob_.
She is Sir, till your pleasure to enlarge her, Which on my knees I beg. Oh 'tis not fit, That all the sweetness of the world in one, The youth and vertue that would tame wild Tygers, And wilder people, that have known no manners, Should live thus cloistred up; for your loves sake, If there be any in that noble heart,
To her a wretched Lady, and forlorn,
Or for her love to you, which is as much As nature and obedience ever gave,
Have pity on her beauties.
_Arb_.
Pray thee stand up; 'Tis true, she is too fair, And al these commendations but her own, Would thou had'st never so commended her, Or I nere liv'd to have heard it _Gobrias;_
If thou but know'st the wrong her beautie does her, Thou wouldst in pity of her be a lyar,
Thy ignorance has drawn me wretched man, Whither my self nor thou canst wel tel : O my fate!
I think she loves me, but I fear another Is deeper in her heart: How thinkst thou _Gobrias_?
_Gob_.
I do beseech your Grace believe it not, For let me perish if it be not false. Good Sir, read her Letter.
_Mar_.
This Love, or what a devil it is I know not, begets more mischief than a Wake. I had rather be well beaten, starv'd, or lowsie, than live within the Air on't. He that had seen this brave fel ow Charge through a grove of Pikes but t'other day, and look upon him now, will ne'r believe his eyes again: if he continue thus but two days more, a Taylor may beat him with one hand tied behind him.
_Arb_.
Alas, she would be at liberty.
And there be a thousand reasons _Gobrias,_
Thousands that will deny't:
Which if she knew, she would contentedly Be where she is: and bless her vertues for it, And me, though she were closer, she would, _Gobrias,_
Good man indeed she would.
_Gob_.
Then good Sir, for her satisfaction,
Send for her and with reason make her know Why she must live thus from you.
_Arb_.
I will; go bring her to me.
[_Exeunt al _.
_Enter_ Bessus, _And two Sword-men, and a Boy_.
_Bes_.
Y'are very welcome both; some stools boy, And reach a Table; Gentlemen o'th' Sword, Pray sit without more complement; be gone child.
I have been curious in the searching of you, Because I understand you wise and valiant persons.
_1_.
We understand our selves Sir.
_Bes_.
Nay Gentlemen, and dear friends o'th' Sword, No complement I pray, but to the cause
I hang upon, which in few, is my honour.
_2_.
You cannot hang too much Sir, for your honour, But to your cause.
_Bes_.
Be wise, and speak truth, my first doubt is, My beating by my Prince.
_1_.
Stay there a little Sir, do you doubt a beating?
Or have you had a beating by your Prince?
_Bes_.
Gentlemen o'th' Sword, my Prince has beaten me.
_2_.
Brother, what think you of this case?
_1_.
If he has beaten him, the case is clear.
_2_.
If he have beaten him, I grant the case; But how? we cannot be too subtil in this business, I say, but how?
_Bes_.
Even with his Royal hand.
_1_.
Was it a blow of love, or indignation?
_Bes_.
'Twas twenty blows of indignation, Gentlemen, Besides two blows o'th face.
_2_.
Those blows o'th' face have made a new cause on't, The rest were but an horrible rudeness.
_1_.
Two blows o'th' face, and given by a worse man, I must confess, as the Sword-men say, had turn'd the business: Mark me brother, by a worse man; but being by his Prince, had they been ten, and those ten drawn teeth, besides the hazard of his nose for ever; al this had been but favours: this is my flat opinion, which I'le die in.
_2_.
The King may do much Captain, believe it; for had he crackt your Scul through, like a bottle, or broke a Rib or two with tossing of you, yet you had lost no honour: This is strange you may imagine, but this is truth now Captain.
_Bes_.
I will be glad to embrace it Gentlemen; But how far may he strike me?
_1_.
There is another: a new cause rising from the time and distance, in which I will deliver my opinion: he may strike, beat, or cause to be beaten: for these are natural to man: your Prince, I say, may beat you, so far forth as his dominion reacheth, that's for the distance; the time, ten miles a day, I take it.
_2_.
Brother, you err, 'tis fifteen miles a day, His stage is ten, his beatings are fifteen.
_Bes_.
'Tis the longest, but we subjects must--
_1_.
Be subject to it; you are wise and vertuous.
_Bes_.
Obedience ever makes that noble use on't, To which I dedicate my beaten body;
I must trouble you a little further, Gentlemen o'th' Sword.
_2_.
No trouble at al to us Sir, if we may
Profit your understanding, we are bound By vertue of our cal ing to utter our opinions, Shortly, and discreetly.
_Bes_.
My sorest business is, I have been kick'd.
_2_.
How far Sir?
_Bes_.
Not to flatter my self in it, al over, my sword forc'd but not lost; for discreetly I rendred it to save that imputation.
_1_.
It shew'd discretion, the best part of valour.
_2_.
Brother, this is a pretty cause, pray ponder on't; Our friend here has been kick'd.
_1_.
He has so, brother.
_2_.
Sorely he saies: Now, had he set down here Upon the meer kick, 't had been Cowardly.
_1_.
I think it had been Cowardly indeed.
_2_.
But our friend has redeem'd it in delivering His sword without compulsion; and that man That took it of him, I pronounce a weak one, And his kicks nullities.
He should have kick'd him after the delivering Which is the confirmation of a Coward.
_1_.
Brother, I take it, you mistake the question; For, say that I were kick'd.
_2_.
I must not say so;
Nor I must not hear it spoke by the tongue of man.
You kick'd, dear brother! you're merry.
_1_.
But put the case I were kick'd?
_2_.
Let them put it that are things weary of their lives, and know not honour; put the case you were kick'd?
_1_.
I do not say I was kickt.
_2_.
Nor no silly creature that wears his head without a Case, his soul in a Skin-coat: You kickt dear brother?
_Bes_.
Nay Gentlemen, let us do what we shal do, Truly and honest[l]y; good Sirs to the question.
_1_.
Why then I say, suppose your Boy kick't, Captain?
_2_.
The Boy may be suppos'd is liable.
_1_.
A foolish forward zeal Sir, in my friend; But to the Boy, suppose the Boy were kickt.
_Bes_.
I do suppose it.
_1_.
Has your Boy a sword?
_Bes_.
Surely no; I pray suppose a sword too.
_1_.
I do suppose it; you grant your Boy was kick't then.
_2_.
By no means Captain, let it be supposed still; the word grant, makes not for us.
_1_.
I say this must be granted.
_2_
This must be granted brother?
_1_.
I, this must be granted.
_2_.
Still this must?
_1_.
I say this must be granted.
_2_.
I, give me the must again, brother, you palter.
_1_.
I will not hear you, wasp.
_2_.
Brother, I say you palter, the must three times together; I wear as sharp Steel as another man, and my Fox bites as deep, musted, my dear brother. But to the cause again.
_Bes_.
Nay look you Gentlemen.
_2_.
In a word, I ha' done.
_1_.
A tall man but intemperate, 'tis great pity; Once more suppose the Boy kick'd.
_2_.
Forward.
_1_.
And being thorowly kick'd, laughs at the kicker.
_2_
So much for us; proceed.
_1_.
And in this beaten scorn, as I may call it, Delivers up his weapon; where lies the error?
_Bes_.
It lies i'th' beating Sir, I found it four dayes since.
_2_.
The error, and a sore one as I take it, Lies in the thing kicking.
_Bes_.
I understand that well, 'tis so indeed Sir.
_1_.
That is according to the man that did it.
_2_.
There springs a new branch, whose was the foot?
_Bes_.
A Lords.
_1_.
The cause is mighty, but had it been two Lords, And both had kick'd you, if you laugh, 'tis clear.
_Bes_.
I did laugh,
But how will that help me, Gentlemen?
_2_.
Yes, it shall help you if you laught aloud.
_Bes_.
As loud as a kick'd man could laugh, I laught Sir.
_1_.
My reason now, the valiant man is known By suffering and contemning; you have
Enough of both, and you are valiant.
_2_.
If he be sure he has been kick'd enough: For that brave sufferance you speak of brother, Consists not in a beating and away,
But in a cudgel 'd body, from eighteen
To eight and thirty; in a head rebuk'd
With pots of all size, degrees, stools, and bed-staves, This showes a valiant man.
_Bes_.
Then I am valiant, as valiant as the proudest, For these are al familiar things to me; Familiar as my sleep, or want of money, Al my whole body's but one bruise with beating, I think I have been cudgel 'd with all nations, And almost all Religions.
_2_.
Embrace him brother, this man is valiant, I know it by my self, he's valiant.
_1_.
Captain, thou art a valiant Gentleman,
To bide upon, a very valiant man.
_Bes_.
My equall friends o'th'Sword, I must request your hands to this.
_2_.
'Tis fit it should be.
_Bes_.
Boy, get me some wine, and pen and Ink within: Am I clear, Gentlemen?
_1_.
Sir, the world has taken notice what we have done, Make much of your body, for I'll pawn my steel, Men will be coyer of their legs hereafter.
_Bes_.
I must request you goe along and testife to the Lord _Bacurius_, whose foot has struck me, how you find my cause.
_2_.
We will, and tel that Lord he must be rul'd, Or there are those abroad, will rule his Lordship.
[_Exeunt_.
_Enter_ Arbaces _at one door, and_ Gob. _and_ Panthea _at another_.
_Gob_.
Sir, here's the Princess.
_Arb_.
Leave us then alone,
For the main cause of her imprisonment
Must not be heard by any but her self.
[_Exit_ Gob.
You're welcome Sister, and would to heaven I could so bid you by another name:
If you above love not such sins as these, Circle my heart with thoughts as cold as snow To quench these rising flames that harbour here.
_ [P]an_.
Sir, does it please you I should speak?
_Arb_.
Please me?
I, more than all the art of musick can, Thy speech doth please me, for it ever sounds, As thou brought'st joyful unexpected news; And yet it is not fit thou shouldst be heard.
I pray thee think so.
_Pan_.
Be it so, I will.
Am I the first that ever had a wrong
So far from being fit to have redress,
That 'twas unfit to hear it? I will back To prison, rather than disquiet you,
And wait till it be fit.
_Arb_.
No, do not goe;
For I will hear thee with a serious thought: I have col ected al that's man about me Together strongly, and I am resolv'd
To hear thee largely, but I do beseech thee, Do not come nearer to me, for there is
Something in that, that will undoe us both.
_Pan_.
Alas Sir, am I venome?
_Arb_.
Yes, to me;
Though of thy self I think thee to be
In equall degree of heat or cold,
As nature can make: yet as unsound men
Convert the sweetest and the nourishing'st meats Into diseases; so shal I distemper'd,
Do thee, I pray thee draw no nearer to me.
_Pan_.
Sir, this is that I would: I am of late Shut from the world, and why it should be thus, Is al I wish to know.
_Arb_.
Why credit me _Panthea_,
Credit me that am thy brother,
Thy loving brother, that there is a cause Sufficient, yet unfit for thee to know, That might undoe thee everlastingly,
Only to hear, wilt thou but credit this?
By Heaven 'tis true, believe it if thou canst.
_Pan_.
Children and fools are ever credulous,
And I am both, I think, for I believe;
If you dissemble, be it on your head;
I'le back unto my prison: yet me-thinks I might be kept in some place where you are; For in my self, I find I know not what
To cal it, but it is a great desire
To see you often.
_Arb_.
Fie, you come in a step, what do you mean?
Dear sister, do not so: Alas _Panthea_, Where I am would you be? Why that's the cause You are imprison'd, that you may not be Where I am.
_Pan_.
Then I must indure it Sir, Heaven keep you.
_Arb_.
Nay, you shal hear the case in short _Panthea_, And when thou hear'st it, thou wilt blush for me, And hang thy head down like a Violet
Ful of the mornings dew: There is a way To gain thy freedome, but 'tis such a one As puts thee in worse bondage, and I know, Thou wouldst encounter fire, and make a proof Whether the gods have care of innocence, Rather than fol ow it: Know that I have lost, The only difference betwixt man and beast, My reason.
_Pan_.
Heaven forbid.
_Arb_.
Nay 'tis gone;
And I am left as far without a bound,
As the wild Ocean, that obeys the winds; Each sodain passion throwes me where it lists, And overwhelms all that oppose my will: I have beheld thee with a lustfull eye; My heart is set on wickedness to act
Such sins with thee, as I have been afraid To think of, if thou dar'st consent to this, Which I beseech thee do not, thou maist gain Thy liberty, and yield me a content;
If not, thy dwelling must be dark and close, Where I may never see thee; For heaven knows That laid this punishment upon my pride, Thy sight at some time will enforce my madness To make a start e'ne to thy ravishing;
Now spit upon me, and call al reproaches Thou canst devise together, and at once Hurle'em against me: for I am a sickness As killing as the plague, ready to seize thee.
_Pan_.
Far be it from me to revile the King:
But it is true, that I shall rather choose To search out death, that else would search out me, And in a grave sleep with my innocence, Than welcome such a sin: It is my fate, To these cross accidents I was ordain'd, And must have patience; and but that my eyes Have more of woman in 'em than my heart, I would not weep: Peace enter you again.
_Arb_.
Farwel , and good _Panthea_ pray for me, Thy prayers are pure, that I may find a death However soon before my passions grow
That they forget what I desire is sin;
For thither they are tending: if that happen, Then I shall force thee tho' thou wert a Virgin By vow to Heaven, and shal pull a heap Of strange yet uninvented sin upon me.
_Pan_.
Sir, I will pray for you, yet you shall know It is a sullen fate that governs us,
For I could wish as heartily as you
I were no sister to you, I should then
Imbrace your lawful love, sooner than health.
_Arb_.
Couldst thou affect me then?
_Pan_.
So perfectly,
That as it is, I ne're shal sway my heart, To like another.
_Arb_.
Then I curse my birth,
Must this be added to my miseries
That thou art willing too? is there no stop To our ful happiness, but these meer sounds Brother and Sister?
_Pan_.
There is nothing else,
But these alas will separate us more
Than twenty worlds betwixt us.
_Arb_.
I have liv'd
To conquer men and now am overthrown
Only by words Brother and Sister: where Have those words dwelling? I will find 'em out, And utterly destroy 'em; but they are
Not to be grasp'd: let 'em be men or beasts, And I will cut 'em from the Earth, or Towns, And I will raze 'em, and the[n] blow 'em up: Let 'em be Seas, and I will drink 'em off, And yet have unquencht fire left in my breast: Let 'em be any thing but meerly voice.
_Pan_.
But 'tis not in the power of any force, Or policy to conquer them.
_Arb_.
_Panthea_, What shal we do?
Shall we stand firmly here, and gaze our eyes out?
_Pan_.
Would I could do so,
But I shal weep out mine.
_Arb_.
Accursed man,
Thou bought'st thy reason at too dear a rate, For thou hast al thy actions bounded in With curious rules, when every beast is free: What is there that acknowledges a kindred But wretched man? Who ever saw the Bul
Fearfully leave the Heifer that he lik'd Because they had one Dam?
_Pan_.
Sir, I disturb you and my self too;
'Twere better I were gone.
_Arb_.
I will not be so foolish as I was,
Stay, we will love just as becomes our births, No otherwise: Brothers and Sisters may
Walk hand in hand together; so will we, Come nearer: is there any hurt in this?
_Pan_.
I hope not.
_Arb_.
Faith there is none at al :
And tell me truly now, is there not one You love above me?
_Pan_.
No by Heaven.
_Arb_.
Why yet you sent unto _Tigranes_, Sister.
_Pan_.
True, but for another: for the truth--
_Arb_.
No more,
I'le credit thee, thou canst not lie,
Thou art al truth.
_Pan_.
But is there nothing else,
That we may do, but only walk? methinks Brothers and Sisters lawful y may kiss.
_Arb_.
And so they may _Panthea_, so will we,
And kiss again too; we were too scrupulous, And foolish, but we will be so no more.
_Pan_.
If you have any mercy, let me go
To prison, to my death, to any thing:
I feel a sin growing upon my blood,
Worse than al these, hotter than yours.
_Arb_.
That is impossible, what shou'd we do?
_Pan_.
Flie Sir, for Heavens sake.
_Arb_.
So we must away,
Sin grows upon us more by this delay.
[_Exeunt several wayes_.
_Actus Quintus_.
_Enter_ Mardonius _And_ Lygones.
_Mar_.
Sir, the King has seen your Commission, and believes it, and freely by this warrant gives you power to visit Prince Tigranes, your Noble Master.
_Lygr_.
I thank his Grace and kiss his hand.
_Mar_.
But is the main of all your business ended in this?
_Lyg_.
I have another, but a worse, I am asham'd, it is a business.
_Mar_.
You serve a worthy person, and a stranger I am sure you are; you may imploy me if you please without your purse, such Offices should ever be their own rewards.
_Lyg_.
I am bound to your Nobleness.
_Mar_.
I may have need of you, and then this courtesie, If it be any, is not ill bestowed;
But may I civilly desire the rest?
I shal not be a hurter if no helper.
_Lyg_.
Sir you shal know I have lost a foolish Daughter, And with her al my patience, pilfer'd away By a mean Captain of your Kings.
_Mar_.
Stay there Sir:
If he have reacht the Noble worth of Captain, He may wel claim a worthy Gentlewoman, Though she were yours, and Noble.
_Lyg_.
I grant all that too: but this wretched fel ow Reaches no further than the empty name
That serves to feed him; were he valiant, Or had but in him any noble nature
That might hereafter promise him a good man, My cares were so much lighter, and my grave A span yet from me.
_Mar_.
I confess such fel ows
Be in al Royal Camps, and have and must be, To make the sin of Coward more detested In the mean souldier that with such a foil Sets off much valour. By description
I should now guess him to you, it was _Bessus_, I dare almost with confidence pronounce it.
_Lyg_.
'Tis such a scurvie name as _Bessus_, and now I think 'tis he.
_Mar_.
Captain do you call him?
Believe me Sir, you have a misery
Too mighty for your age: A pox upon him, For that must be the end of all his service: Your Daughter was not mad Sir?
_Lyg_.
No, would she had been,
The fault had had more credit: I would do something.
_Mar_.
I would fain counsel you, but to what I know not, he's so below a beating, that the Women find him not worthy of their Distaves, and to hang him were to cast away a Rope; he's such an Airie, thin unbodyed Coward, that no revenge can catch him: I'le tell you Sir, and tel you truth; this Rascal fears neither God nor man, he has been so beaten: sufferance has made him Wainscot: he has had since he was first a slave, at least three hundred Daggers set in's head, as little boys do new Knives in hot meat, there's not a Rib in's body o' my Conscience that has not been thrice broken with dry beating: and now his sides look like two Wicker Targets, every way bended; Children will shortly take him for a Wall, and set their Stone-bows in his forehead, he is of so base a sense, I cannot in a week imagine what shal be done to him.
_Lyg_.
Sure I have committed some great sin
That this fel ow should be made my Rod, I would see him, but I shal have no patience.
_Mar_.
'Tis no great matter if you have not: if a Laming of him, or such a toy may do you pleasure Sir, he has it for you, and I'le help you to him: 'tis no news to him to have a Leg broken, or Shoulder out, with being turn'd o'th' stones like a Tansie: draw not your Sword if you love it; for on my Conscience his head will break it: we use him i'th' Wars like a Ram to shake a wal withal. Here comes the very person of him, do as you shall find your temper, I must leave you: but if you do not break him like a Bisket, you are much to blame Sir.
[_Exit_ Mar.
_Enter_ Bessus _And the Sword men_.
_Lyg_.
Is your name _Bessus_?
_Bes_.
Men call me Captain Bessu