A King and no King. Acted at the Globe, by his majesties Servants.  
Written by Francis Beaumont, and john Fletcher.  
 
AT LONDON Printed for Thomas Walkley, and are to be sold at his shop at the Eagle and Child in Britain-purse. 1619.   

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL, AND WORTHY Knight, Sir henry NEVILL.  
WORTHY SIR,  
I Present, or rather return unto your view, that which formerly hath been received from you, hereby effecting what you did desire: To commend the work in my unlearned method, were rather to detract from it, than to give it any luster. It sufficeth it hath your worship's approbation and patronage, to the commendation of the Authors, and encouragement of their further labours: and thus wholly committing myself and it to your worship's dispose I rest, ever ready to do you service, not only in the like, but in what I may.  
Thomas Walkley.   

A King and NO KING.  
Enter Mardonius and Bessus. Mar. 
BEssus, the KING has made a fair hand on't, has ended the wars at a blow, would my sword had a close basket hilt to hold wine, and the blade would make knives, for we shall have nothing but eating and drinking.  Bes. 
We that are commanders shall do well enough.  Mar. 
Faith Bes. such commanders as thou may, I had as live set thee Perdue for a pudding i'th dark, as Alexander the great.  Bes. 
I love these jests exceedingly.  Mar. 
I think thou lov'st them better than quarreling Bessus, He say so much i'thy behalf, and yet thou art valiant enough upon a retreat, I think thou wouldst kill any man that stopped thee, and thou couldst.  Bes. 
But was not this a brave combat Mardonius?  Mar. 
Why, didst thou see't?  Bes. 
You stood with me.  Mar. 
I did so, but methought thou wink'st every blow they struck.  Bes. 
Well, I believe there are better Soldiers than I, that never saw two Princes fight in lists.  Mar. 
By my troth I think so too Bessus, many a thousand, but certainly all that are worse than thou have seen as much.  Bes. 
'twas bravely done of our King.  Mar. 
Yes, if he had not ended the wars, I am glad thou darest talk of such dangerous businesses.  Bess. 
To take a Prince prisoner in the heart of his own Country in single combat.  Mar. 
See how thy blood cruddles at this, I think thou wouldst be contented to be beaten in this passion.  Bes. 
Shall I tell you truly.  Mar. 
I.  Bes. 
I could willingly venture for it.  Mar. 
umh, no venture neither good Bessus.  Bes. 
Let me not live, if I do not think it is a braver piece of service, then that I'm so famed for.  Mar. 
Why art thou famed for any valour?  Bes. 
I famed, ay, I warrant you.  Mar. 
I am very heartily glad on't. I have been with thee ever since thou cam'st o'th' wars, and this is the first word that ever I heard on't, prithee who fames thee?  Bes 
The Christian world.  Mar. 
'tis heathenishly done of them, in my conscience thou deserv'st it not.  Bes 
Yes, I ha' done good service.  Mar. 
I do not know how thou mayst wait of a man in's Chamber, or thy agility in shifting a trencher, but otherwise no service good Bessus.  Bes. 
You saw me do the service yourself.  Mar. 
Not so hasty sweet Bessus, where was it, is the place vanished.  Bes. 
At Bessus desperate redemption.  Mar. 
Bessus desperate redemption, where's that.  Bes. 
There where I redeemed the day, the place bears my name.  Mar. 
Prithee who christened it.  Bes. 
The Soldier:  Mar. 
If I were not a very merely disposed man, what would become of thee: one that had but a grain of collar in the whole composition of his body would send thee of an errand to the worms, for putting thy name upon that field: did not I beat thee there i'th head, a'th' troops with a truncheon, because thou wouldst needs run away with thy company, when we should charge the enemy.  Bes. 
True, but I did not run.  Mar. 
Right Bessus, I beat thee out on't.  Bes. 
But came not I up when the day was gone, and redeemed all?  Mar. 
Thou know'st, and so do I, thou mean'st to fly, and thy fear making thee mistake, thou ranst upon the enemy, and a hot charge thou gav'st, as I'll do thee right, thou art furious in running away, and I think we owe thy fear for our victory. If I were the King, and were sure thou wouldst mistake always, and run away upon the enemy, thou shouldst be General by this light.  Bess. 
You'll never leave this till I fall foul.  Mar. 
No more such words dear Bessus: for though I have ever known thee a coward, and therefore durst never strike thee; yet if thou proceed'st, I will allow thee valiant, and beat thee.  Bes. 
Come, come, our King's a brave fellow.  Mar. 
He is so Bessus, I wonder how thou com'st to know it: But if thou wert a man of understanding, I would tell thee he is vainglorious, and humble, and angry, and patient, and merry, and dull, and joyful, and sorrowful, in extremities in an hour: Do not think me thy friend for this, for if I cared who knew it, thou shouldst not hear it Bessus: here he is with the prey in his foot.  Enter Arbaces and Tigranes, with attendants. Arb. 
Thy sadness (brave Tigranes) takes away  
From my fall victory; am I become  
Of so small fame, that any man should grieve  
When I o'ercome him: They that placed me here,  
Intended it an honour large enough  
For the most valiant living; but to dare  
Oppose me single, though he lost the day,  
What should afflict you, you are free as I,  
To be my prisoner, is to be more free,  
Than you were formerly; and never think  
The man I held worthy to combat me,  
Shall be used servilely: Thy ransom is  
To take my only sister to thy wife;  
A heavy one Tigranes: for she is  
A Lady that the neighbour Princes send  
Blanks to fetch home: I have been too unkind  
To her Tigranes, she but nine year old,  
I left her, and near saw her since: your wars  
Have held me long, and taught me, though a youth,  
The way to victory: she was a pretty child  
Then, I was little better; but now fame  
Cries loudly on her, and my Messengers  
Make me believe she is a miracle;  
she'll make you shrink as I did, with a stroke  
But of her eye Tigranes.  
Is it the course of  
Iberia, to use their prisoners thus?  
Had Fortune thrown my name above Arbaces,  
I should not thus have talked: for in Armenia  
we hold it base; you should have kept your temper,  
Till you saw home again; where 'tis the fashion  
Perhaps to brag.  Arb. 
Be you my witness Earth:  
Need I to brag, doth not this captive Prince  
Speak me sufficiently, and all the Acts  
That I have wrought upon his suffering Land?  
Should I then boast? Where lies that foot of ground  
Within his whole Realm, that I have not passed  
Fighting, and Conquering? Far then from me  
Be ostentation: I could tell the World  
How I have laid his Kingdom desolate  
With this sole arm, propped by Divinity,  
Stripped him out of his glories, and have sent  
The pride of all his youth to people graves,  
And made his Virgins languish for their loves;  
If I would brag, Should I that have the power  
To teach the Neighbour world humility,  
Mix with vain glory.  Mar. 
In deed this is none?  Arb. 
Tigranes, no; did I but take delight  
To stretch my deeds as others do on words,  
I could amaze my hearers.  Mar. 
So you do:  Arb. 
But he shall wrong his, and my modesty  
That thinks me apt to boast: After an Act  
Fit for a God to do upon his foe,  
A little glory in a soldiers mouth,  
Is well becoming, be it far from vain.  Mar. 
Its pity that valour should be thus drunk.  Arba. 
I offer you my Sister, and you answer,  
I do insult: A Lady that no suit  
Nor treasure, nor thy Crown could purchase thee,  
But that thou foughtst with me.  Tigr. 
Though this be worse  
Than that you spoke before, it strikes not me  
But that you think to over-grace me with  
The marriage of your Sister, troubles me,  
I would give worlds for ransoms were they mine,  
Rather than have her.  Arb. 
See if I insult  
That am the Conqueror, and for a ransom  
Offer rich treasure to the conquered,  
Which he refuses, and I bear his scorn.  
It cannot be self flattery to say,  
The daughters of your Country set by her  
Would see their shame; run home, and blush to death  
At their own foulness, yet she is not fair,  
Nor beautiful, those words express her not,  
They say her looks are something excellent,  
That wants a name yet: were she odious  
Her birth deserves the Empire of the world.  
Sister to such a Brother, that hath ta'en  
Victory prisoner, and throughout the Earth  
Carries her bound; and should he let her loose,  
She durst not leave him. Nature did her wrong  
To print continual conquest on her cheeks,  
And make no man worthy for her to take,  
But me that am too near her; and as strangely  
She did for me: But you will think I brag.  Mar. 
I do I'll be sworn. Thy Valour and thy passions severed, would have made two excellent fellows in their kinds: I know not whether I should be sorry thou art so valiant, or so passionate, would one of 'em were away.  Tigr. 
Do I refuse her that I doubt her worth,  
Were she as virtuous as she would be thought,  
So perfect, that no own of her own sex  
Would find a want, had she so tempting fair,  
That she could wish it off her damning souls,  
I would pay any Ransom, twenty-times,  
Rather than meet her married in my bed:  
Perhaps I have a Love, where I have fixed  
Mine eyes, not to be moved, and she on me:  
I am not fickle:  Arb. 
Is that all the cause?  
Think you, you can so knit yourself in love  
To any other, that her searching sight  
Cannot dissolve it? So before you tried  
You thought yourself a match for me in fight:  
Trust me Tigranes she can do as much  
In peace, as I in War; she'll conquer too  
You shall see, if you have the power to stand  
The force of her swift looks, if you dislike,  
I'll send you home with love, & name your ransom  
some other way: but if she be your choice  
She frees you: to Ileria you must.  Tigr. 
Sir, I have learned a prisoner's sufferance,  
And will obey, but give me leave to talk  
In private with some friends before I go.  Arb. 
Some two await him forth, and see him safe,  
But let him freely send for whom he please,  
And none dare to disturb his conference:  
I will not have him know what bondage is Exe.  
Till he be free from me. This Prince Mardonius  
Is full of wisdom, Valour, all the grace's  
Man can receive.  Mar. 
And yet you Conquered him?  Arb. 
And yet I conquered him, & could have done  
Hadst thou joined with him, though thy name in Arms  
be great; Must all men that are virtuous  
Think suddenly to match themselves with me:  
I conquered him, and bravely; did I not?  Bes. 
And please your Majesty I was afraid at first.  Mar. 
When wert thou other?  Arb. 
Of what?  Bes. 
That you would not have spied your best advantages, for your Majesty in my opinion lay too high methinks, under favour, you should have lain thus.  Mar. 
Like a tailor at a wake.  Bes. 
And then, if't please your Majesty to remember, at one time, by my Troth, I wished myself with you.  Mar. 
By my Troth thou wouldst have sunk 'em both out oath lifts.  Arb. 
what to do?  Bes. 
To put your Majesty in mind of an occasion; you lay thus, and Tigranes falsified a blow at your leg, which you by doing thus avoided; but if you had whipped up your leg thus, and reached him on th'ear, you had made the blood run about'ts head.  Mar. 
what country-fence-school didst thou learn that at?  Arb. 
Puffed, did I not take him nobly?  Mar. 
Why you did, and you have talked enough on't.  Arb. 
Talk enough,  
while you confine my words, by Heaven and Earth,  
I were much better be a King of Beasts  
Then such a people: If I had not patience  
Above a god, I should be called a Tyrant  
Throughout the World. They will offend to death  
Each minute: Let me hear thee speak again  
And thou art earth again: why this is like  
Tigranes' speech, that needs would say, I bragged.  
Bessus he said I bragged.  Bes. 
Ha ha ha.  Arb. 
Why dost thou laugh?  
By all the world I me grown ridiculous  
To my own subjects: Tie me to a chair  
And jest at me, but I shall make a start  
And punish some, that other will take heed  
How they are haughty; who will answer me?  
He said I boasted, speak Mardonius,  
Did I? He will not answer: O my Temper!  
I give you thanks above, that taught my heart  
Patience, I can endure his silence; what will none  
Vouchsafe to give me audience, am I grown  
To such a poor respect or do you mean  
To break my wind, speak, speak soon one of you,  
Or else by Heaven,  1 Gent. 
So please your,  Arb 
Monstrous,  
I cannot be heard out, they cut me off  
As if I were too saucy; I will live  
In woods, and talk to Trees they will allow me  
To end what I begin. The meanest Subject  
Can find a freedom to discharge his soul,  
And not I, now it is a time to speak,  
I hearken.  1 Gent. 
May it please,  Arb. 
I mean not you,  
Did not I stop you once? but I am grown  
To baulk, but I desire, let another speak.  2 Gent. 
I hope your Majesty,  Arb. 
Thou drawest thy words  
That I must wait an hour, where other men  
Can hear in instants; throw your words away  
Quick, and to purpose, I have told you this.  Bes. 
An't please your Majesty:  Arb. 
Wilt thou devour me? this is such a rudeness  
As yet you never showed me, and I want  
Power to command me, else Mardonius  
Would speak at my request; were you my King,  
I would have answered at your word Mardonius,  
I pray you speak, and true y, did I boast?  Mar. 
Truth will offend you.  Arb. 
You take all great care what will offend me,  
When you dare to utter such things as these.  Mar. 
You told Tigranes, you had won his Land  
With that sole arm propped by Divinity:  
Was not that bragging, and a wrong to us  
That daily ventured lives?  Arb. 
O that thy name  
Were great as mine, would I had paid my wealth,  
It were as great, that I might combat thee;  
I would through all the Regions habitable  
Search thee, and having found thee, with my Sword  
Drive thee about the world, till I had met  
Some place that yet man's curiosity  
Hath missed of; there, there would I strike thee dead:  
Forgotten of Mankind, such Funeral Rites  
As Beasts would give thee thou shouldst have  Bes. 
The King  
Rages extremely, shall we slink away;  
he'll strike us:  2 Gent. 
Content.  Arb. 
There I would make you know 'twas this sole arm,  
I grant you were my Instruments, and did  
As I commanded you, but 'twas this Arm  
Moved you like wheels, it moved you as it pleased:  
whither slip you now? what are you too good  
To wait on me? I had need have temper  
That rule such people; I have nothing left  
At my own choice, I would I might be private:  
Mean men enjoy themselves, but 'tis our curse,  
To have a tumult that out of their loves  
will wait on us whether we will or no;  
will you be gone? why here they stand like death,  
My word moves nothing.  2 Gent. 
Must we go?  Bes. 
I know not.  Arb 
I pray you leave me Sirs, I'm proud of this,  
That they will be entreated from my sight:  
why now they leave me all: Mardonius,  Mar. 
Sir.  Arb. 
will you leave me quite alone? methinks  
Civility should teach you more than this,  
If I were but your friend: stay here, and wait.  Mar. 
Sir, shall I speak?  Arb. 
why you would now think much  
To be denied, but I can scarce entreat  
what I would have: do, speak.  Mar. 
But will you hear me out?  Arb. 
with me you article to talk thus: well  
I will hear you out.  Mar. 
Sir, that I have ever loved you, my sword hath spoken for me, that I do, if it be doubted, I dare call an oath a great one to my witness: and were you not my King, from amongst men, I should have chose you out to love above the rest: nor can this challenge thanks: for my own sake I should have doted, because I would have loved the most deserving man, for so you are.  Arb. 
Alas Mardonius, rise, you shall not kneel;  
we all are Soldiers, and all venture lives:  
And where there is no difference in men's worths,  
Titles are jests: who can out value thee?  
Mardonius thou hast loved me, and haste wrong,  
Thy love is not rewarded, but believe  
It shall be better, more than friend in arms,  
My Father, and my Tutor, good Mardonius.  Mar. 
Sir, you did promise you would hear me out.  Arb. 
And so I will, speak freely, for from thee  
Nothing can come but worthy things and true.  Mar. 
Though you have all this worth, you hold some qualities that do eclipse your virtues.  Arb. 
Eclipse my virtue?  Mar. 
Yes your passions, which are so manifold, that they appear even in this: when I commend you, you hug me for that truth: when I speak of your faults, you make a start, and fly the hearing: but,  Arb. 
when you commend me? O that I should live  
To need such commendations: If my deeds  
Blew not my praise themselves above the earth,  
I were most wretched: spare your idle praise:  
If thou didst mean to flatter, and shouldst utter  
words in my praise, that thou thoughtst impudence,  
My deeds should make 'em modest: when you praise,  
I hug you; 'tis so false, that wert thou worthy  
Thou shouldst receive a death, a glorious death  
From me: but thou shalt understand thy lies,  
For shouldst thou praise me into Heaven, and there  
Leave me enthroned, I would despise thee though  
As much as now, which is as much as dust,  
Because I see thy envy.  Mar. 
however you will use me after, yet for your own promise' sake hear me the rest.  Arb. 
I will, and after call unto the winds,  
For they shall lend as large an ear as I  
To what you utter: speak.  Mar. 
would you but leave these hasty tempers, which I do not say take from you all your worth, but darken 'em, than you would shine indeed.  Arb. 
Well.  Mar. 
Yet I would have you keep some passions, least men should take you for a god, your virtues are such.  Arb. 
Why now you flatter.  Mar. 
I never understood the word, were you no King, & free from these wild moods, should I choose a companion for wit and pleasure, it should be you, or for honest, to interchange my bosom with, it would be you; or wisdom to to give me counsel, I would pick out you: or valour to defend my reputation, still I would find out you, for you are fit to fight for all the world, if it could come in question: Now I have spoke, consider to yourself, find out a use? if so, then what shall fall to me is not material.  Arb. 
Is not material: more than ten such lives  
As mine Mardonius: it was Nobly said,  
Thou hast spoke truth, and boldly, such a truth  
As might offend another. I have been  
Too passionate, and idle, thou shalt see  
A swift amendment: But I want those parts  
You praise me for: I fight for all the world:  
Give thee a Sword, and thou wilt go as far  
Beyond me, as thou art beyond in years,  
I know thou dar'st, and wilt; It troubles me  
That I should use so rough a phrase to thee,  
Impute it to my folly, what thou wilt,  
So thou wilt pardon me; that thou and I  
Should differ thus.  Mar. 
why 'tis no matter Sir:  Arb. 
Faith but 'tis, but thou dost ever take  
All things I do thus patiently, for which  
I never can requite thee but with love,  
And that thou shalt be sure of. Thou and I  
Have not been merry lately: pray thee tell me  
where hadst thou that same jewel in thine care?  Mar. 
why at the taking of a Town.  Arb. 
A wench upon my life, a wench Mardonius  
Gave thee that Jewel.  Mar. 
wench, they respect not me, I'm old and rough, and every limb about me, but that which should grows stiffer: lth those businesses I may swear I am truly honest: for I pay justly for what I take, and would be glad to be at a certainty.  Arb. 
why do the wenches encroach upon thee?  Mar. 
I by this light do they.  Arb. 
Didst thou sit at an old rent with 'em?  Mar. 
Yes faith.  Arb. 
And do they improve themselves?  Mar. 
ay, ten shillings to me, every new young fellow they come acquainted with.  Arb. 
How canst live on't?  Mar. 
Why I think I must petition to you.  Arb. 
Thou shalt take 'em up at my price.  Mar. 
Your price?  Arb. 
I at the king's price.  Mar. 
That may be more than I am worth.  1 Gent 
Is he not merry now?  2 Gent. 
I think not.  Bes. 
He is, he is, we'll show ourselves.  Arb. 
Bessus I thought you had been in Iberia by this, bad you; half Gobrias will want entertainment for me.  Bes. 
An't please your Majesty I have a suit.  Arb. 
be't not lousy Bessus, what be't?  Bes. 
I am to carry a Lady with me.  Arb. 
Then thou hast two suits.  Bess. 
And if I can prefer her to the Lady Panthan your majesties sister, to learn fashions as her friends term it, it will be worth something to me.  Arb. 
So many nights lodgings as 'tis thither, will not?  Bes. 
I know not that, but gold I shall be sure of.  Arb. 
Why thou shalt bid her entertain her from me, so thou wilt resolve me one thing.  Bess. 
if I can.  Arb. 
Faith 'tis a very disputable question, yet I think thou canst decide it:  Bess. 
Your Majesty has a good opinion of my understanding.  Arb. 
I have so good an opinion of it: 'tis whether thou be valiant.  Bess. 
somebody has traduce me to you: do you see this sword Sir?  Arb. 
Yes.  Bes. 
If I do not make my backbiters eat it to a knife within this week, say I am not valiant.  Enter Messenger. Mess. 
Health to your Majesty.  Arb. 
From Gobrias?  Mess. 
Yes Sir.  Arb. 
How does he, is he well?  Mess. 
In perfect health.  Arb. 
Thank thee for thy good news,  
A trustier servant to his Prince there lives not  
Then is good Gobrias.  1 Gent. 
The King starts back.  Mar. 
His blood goes back as fast:  2 Gent. 
And now it comes again.  Mar. 
He altars strangely.  Arb. 
The hand of Heaven is on me, be it far  
From me to struggle; if my secret sins  
Have pulled this curse upon me, lend me tears.  
Enough to wash me white, that I may feel  
A childlike innocence within my breast;  
Which once performed, O give me leave to stand  
As fixed as constancy herself, my eyes  
Set here unmoved, regardless of the World,  
Though thousand miseries encompass me.  Mar. 
This is strange, Sir, how do you?  Arb. 
Mardonius my mother:  Mar. 
Is she dead?  Arb. 
Alas, she's not so happy; thou dost know  
How she hath laboured since my Father died  
To take by treason hence this loathed life,  
That would but be to serve her, I have pardoned  
And pardoned, and by that have made her fit  
To practise new sins, not repent the old;  
She now has hired a slave to come from thence  
And strike me here, whom Gobrias sifting out,  
Took, and condemned, and executed there  
The carefulst servant: Heaven let me but live  
To pay that man; Nature is poor to me,  
That will not let me have as many deaths  
As are the times that he hath saved my life,  
That I might die 'em over all for him.  Mar. 
Sir let her bear her sins on her own head,  
Vex not yourself.  Arb. 
What will the world  
Conceive of me? with what unnatural sins  
Will they suppose me laden, when my life  
Is sought by her that gave it to the world?  
But yet he writes me comfort here, my sister  
He says is grown in beauty, and in grace,  
In all the innocent virtues that become  
A tender spotless maid: she stains her cheeks  
With mourning tears to purge her Mother's ill,  
And 'mongst her sacred dew she mingles prayers,  
Her pure oblations for my safe return:  
If I have lost the duty of a son,  
If any pomp or vanity of state  
Made me forget my natural offices;  
Nay farther, if I have not every night  
Expostulated with my wandering thoughts,  
If aught unto my Parent they have erred,  
And called 'em back: do you direct her arm  
Unto this foul dissembling heart of mine:  
But if I have been just to her, send out  
Your power to compass me, and hold me safe  
From searching treason; I will use no means  
But prayers: for rather suffer me to see  
From mine own veins issue a deadly flood,  
Then wash my dangers off with Mother's blood:  Mar. 
I near saw such sudden extremities.  Enter Tigranes, and Spaconia. Tigr. 
Why, wilt thou have me die Spaconia,  
What should I do?  Spa. 
Nay, let me stay alone,  
And when you see Armenia again,  
You shall behold a Tomb more worth than I,  
Some friend that either loves me, or my cause,  
Will build me something to distinguish me  
From other women: Many a weeping verse  
He will lay on, and much lament those maids  
That place their loves unfortunately too light,  
As I have done, where they can never reach:  
But why should you go to Iberia?  Tigr. 
Alas, that thou wilt ask me; Ask the man  
That rages in a fever, why he lies  
Distempered there, when all the other youths  
Are coursing o'er the Meadows with their loves?  
Can I resist it? am I not a slave  
To him that conquered me?  Spa. 
That conquered thee, Tigranes he has won but half of  
Thy body; but thy mind may be as free  
As his, his will did never combat thine,  
And take it prisoner:  Tigr. 
But if he by force  
Convey my body hence, what helps it me  
Or thee to be unwilling?  Spa. 
O Tigranes,  
I know you are to see a Lady there,  
To see, and like I fear: perhaps the hope  
Of her makes you forget me ere we part,  
Be happier than you know to wish: farewell.  Tigr. 
Spaconia stay, and hear me what I say:  
In short destruction meet me, that I may  
See it, and not avoid it when I leave  
To be thy faithful Lover: part with me  
Thou shalt not, there are none that know our love;  
And I have given gold to a Captain  
That goes unto Iberia from the King,  
That he would place a Lady of our Land  
With the king's sister that is offered me;  
Thither shall you, and being once got in,  
Persuade her by what subtle means you can  
To be as backward in her love as I.  Spa. 
Can you imagine that a longing maid  
When she beholds you, can be pulled away  
With words from loving you?  Tigr. 
Dispraise my health,  
My honesty, and tell her I am jealous:  Spa. 
Why, I had rather lose you: Can my heart  
Consent to let my tongue throw out such words,  
And I that ever yet spoke what I thought,  
Shall find it such a thing at first to lie:  Tigr. 
Yet do thy best.  Ent. Bessus. Bes. 
What is your Majesty ready?  Tigr. 
There is the Lady Captain.  Bes. 
Sweet Lady by your leave, I could wish myself more full of Courtship for your fair sake.  Spa. 
Sir I shall find no want of that.  Bess. 
Lady, you must haste, I have received new letters from the King, that requires more speed than I expected he will follow me suddenly himself, and begins to call for your Majesty already.  Tigr. 
He shall not do so long.  Bes. 
Sweet Lady shall I call you my charge hereafter?  Spa. 
I will not take upon me to govern your tongue Sir, you shall call me what you please:  
Finis Actus Primi.   

Actus Secundus Scena Prima.  Enter Gobrias, Bacurius, Arane, Panthaea, and Mandane, waiting women, with attendance. Gob. 
MY Lord Bacurius, you must have regard  
Unto the Queen, she is your prisoner,  
'tis at your peril if she make escape.  Bac. 
My Lord I know't, she is my prisoner  
From you committed; yet she is a woman,  
And so I keep her safe: you will not urge me  
To keep her close, I shall not shame to say  
I sorrow for her.  Gob. 
So do I my Lord.  
I sorrow for her that so little grace  
Doth govern her, that she should stretch her arm  
Against her King, so little womanhood  
And natural goodness, as to think the death  
Of her own Son.  Ara. 
Thou know'st the reason why,  
Dissembling as thou art, and wilt not speak.  Gob. 
There is a Lady takes not after you,  
Her Father is within her, that good man  
Whose tears paid down his sins, mark how she weeps,  
How well it does become her; and if you  
Can find no disposition in yourself  
To sorrow, yet by gracefulness in her  
Find out the way, and by your reason weep:  
All this she does for you, and more she needs,  
When for yourself you will not lose a tear,  
Think how this want of grief discredits you,  
And you will weep, because you cannot weep:  Ara. 
You talk to me as having got a time  
Fit for your purpose; but you know I know  
You speak not what you think.  Pan. 
I would my heart  
Were stone, before my softness should be urged  
Against my Mother, a more troubled thought  
No Virgin bears about her; should I excuse  
My Mother's fault, I should let light a life,  
In losing which, a brother and a King  
Were taken from me; If I seek to save  
That life so loved, I lose another life  
That gave me being, I shall lose a Mother,  
A word of such a sound in a child's ear,  
That it strikes reverence through it: May the will  
Of Heaven be done, and if one needs must fall,  
Take a poor virgin's life to answer all.  Ara. 
But Gobrias let us talk; you know this fault  
Is not in me as in another woman:  Gob. 
I know it is not:  Ara. 
Yet you make it so.  Gob. 
Why, is not all that's past beyond your help?  Ara. 
I know it is.  Gob. 
Nay, should you publish it  
Before the world, think you 'twill be believed?  Ara. 
I know it would not.  Gob. 
Nay, should I join with you,  
Should we not both be torn? and yet both die  
Uncredited?  Ara. 
I think we should.  Gob. 
Why then  
Take you such violent courses? as for me,  
I do but right in saving of the King  
From all your plots.  Ara. 
The King?  Gob. 
I bade you rest with patience, and a time  
Would come for me  
To reconcile all to your own content:  
But by this way you take away my power,  
And what was done unknown, was not by me,  
But you, your urging, being done,  
I must preserve mine own; but time may bring  
All this to light, and happily for all.  Ara. 
Accursed be this overcurious brain,  
That gave that plot a birth; accursed this womb,  
That after did conceive to my disgrace.  Bac. 
My Lord Protector, they say there are divers Letters come from Armenia that Bessus has done good service, and brought again a day by his particular valour: received you any to that effect?  Gob. 
Yes, 'tis most certain.  Bac. 
I'm sorry for't, not that the day was won, but that 'twas won by him; we held him here a coward, he did me wrong once, at which I laughed, and so did all the world: for, nor I, nor any other held time worth my Sword.  Enter Bessus, and Spaconia. Bes. 
Health to my Lord Protector, from the King these Letters, and to your grace Madam these:  Go. 
How does his Majesty?  Bes. 
As well as conquest by his own means, and his valiant commanders can make him: your letters will tell you all.  Pan. 
I will not open mine till I do know  
My brother's health; good Captain is he well?  Bes. 
As the rest of us that fought are:  Pan. 
But how's that, is he hurt?  Bes. 
he's a strange Soldier that gets not a knock,  Pan. 
I do not ask how strange that Soldier is That gets no hurt; but whether he have one?  Bes. 
He had divers.  Pan. 
And is he well again?  Bes. 
Well again, an't please your grace; why I was run twice through the body, and shot i'th' head with a cross arrow, and yet am well again.  Pan. 
I do not care how thou dost, is he well?  Bes. 
Not care how I do, let a man out of the mightiness of his spirit fructify foreign Countries with his blood for the good of his own, and thus he shall be answered: why, I may live to relieve with spear and shield such a Lady distressed.  Pan. 
Why, I will care, I am glad that thou art well; I prithee is he so?  Gob. 
The King is well, and will be here tomorrow.  Pan. 
My prayers are heard; now I will open mine.  Gob. 
Bacurius, I must ease you of your charge:  
Madam, the wonted mercy of the King  
That overtakes your faults, has met with this,  
And struck it out; he has forgiven you freely,  
Your own will is your Law, be where you please.  Ara. 
I thank him  Gob. 
You will be ready  
To wait upon his Majesty tomorrow?  Ara. 
I will.  Bac. 
Madam, be wise hereafter:  
I am glad I have lost this Office.  Exit. Gob. 
Good Captain Bessus, tell us the discourse  
Between Tigranes and our King, and how  
We got the victory.  Pan. 
I prithee do,  
And if my brother were in any danger,  
Let not thy tale make him abide there long,  
Before thou bring him off; for all that while  
My heart will beat.  Bes. 
Madam, let what will beat, I must tell truth, and thus it was: They fought single in lists but one to one, as for my own part I was dangerously hurt but three days before, else perhaps we had been two to two; I cannot tell, some thought we had; and the occasion of my hurt was this, the enemy had made trenches.  Gob. 
Captain, without the manner of your hurt be much material to this business, we'll hear it some other time.  Pan. 
ay, I prithee leave it, and go on with my brother.  Bes. 
I will, but 'twould be worth your hearing: To the lists they came, and single sword and gauntlet was their fight.  Pan. 
Alas.  Bes. 
Without the lists there stood some dozen Captains of either side mingled, all which were sworn, and one of those was I: and 'twas my chance to stand near a Captain of the enemy's side, called Tiribasus; valiant they said he was: whilst these two Kings were stretching themselves, this Tiribasus cast something a scornful look on me, and asked me whom I thought would overcome: I smiled, and told him, if he would fight with me, he should perceive by the event of that whose King would win; something he answered, and a scuffle was like to grow, when one Zipetus offered to help him: I—  Pan. 
All this is of thyself, I prithee Bessus  
Tell something of my brother, did he nothing?  Bes. 
Why yes, I'll tell your Grace; they were not to fight till the word given, which for my own part by my troth I was not to give.  Pan. 
See, for his own part.  Bac. 
I fear yet this fellow's abused with a good report.  Bes. 
ay, but I:  Pan. 
Still of himself.  Bes. 
Cried, give the word, whenas some of them said Tigranes was stooping, but the word was not given then: when one Cosroses of the enemy's part held up his finger to me, which is as much with us Martialists, as I will fight with you: I said not a word, nor made sign during the combat; but that once done.  Pan. 
He slips over all the fight.  Bes. 
I called him to me, Cosros said I:  Pan. 
I will hear no more.  Bes. 
No, no, I lie.  Bac. 
I dare be sworn thou dost.  Bes. 
Captain said I, 'twas so.  Pan. 
I tell thee, I will hear no further.  Bes. 
No, your Grace will wish you had.  Pan. 
I will not wish it: what is this the Lady  
My Brother writes to me to take?  Bes. 
An't please your Grace this is she: Charge will you come nearer the Princes?  Pan. 
You're welcome from your Country, and this Land  
Shall show unto you all the kindnesses  
That I can make it; what's your name?  Spa. 
Thalestris.  Pan. 
youare very welcome, you have got a letter  
To put you to me, that has power enough  
To place mine Enemy here; then much more you,  
That are so far from being so to me,  
That you near saw me.  Bes 
Madam, I dare pass my word for her truth.  Spa. 
My truth.  Pan 
Why Captain, do you think I am afraid she'll steal?  Bes. 
I cannot tell, servants are slippery; but I dare give my word for her, and for her honesty: she came along with me, and many favours she did me by the way; but by this light none but what she might do with modesty, to a man of my rank.  Pan 
Why Captain, here's nobody thinks otherwise.  Bes. 
Nay, if you should, your Grace may think your pleasure; but I am sure I brought her from Armenia, and in all that way if ever I touched any bare on her above her knee, I pray God I may sink where I stand.  Spa. 
Above my knee?  Bes. 
No, you know I did not, and if any man will say I did, this Sword shall answer: Nay, I'll defend the reputation of my charge whilst I live; your Grace shall understand I am secret in these businesses, and know how to defend a Lady's honour.  Spa. 
I hope your Grace knows him so well already,  
I shall not need to tell you he's vain and foolish:  Bes. 
ay, you may call me what you please, but I'll defend your good name against the World; and so I take my leave of your Grace, and of you my Lord Protector, I am likewise glad to see your Lordship well.  Bac. 
O Captain Bessus, I thank you, I would speak with you anon.  Bes. 
When you please, I will attend your Lordship:  Exit. Bac. 
Madam, I'll take my leave too:  Exit. Pan. 
Good Bacurius:  Gob. 
Madam, what writes his Majesty to you?  Pan. 
O my Lord,  
The kindest words, I'll keep 'em whilst I live  
Here in my bosom; there's no art in 'em,  
They lie disordered in this paper, Just  
As hearty Nature speaks 'em.  Gob. 
And to me  
He writes, what tears of joy he shed to hear  
How you were grown in every virtuous way,  
And yields all thanks to me, for that dear care  
Which I was bound to have in training you:  
There is no Princes living that enjoys  
A Brother of that worth.  Pan. 
My Lord, no Maid longs more for any thing, or feels more heat and cold within her breast, than I do now, In hope to see him.  Gob. 
Yet I wonder much at this, he writes he brings along with him a husband for you, that same Captive Prince;  
And if he love you as he makes a show,  
He will allow you freedom in your choice.  Pan. 
And so he will my Lord, I warrant you  
He will but offer, and give me the power  
To take, or leave.  Gob. 
Trust me, were I a Lady I could not like  
That man were bargained with before I choose him.  Pan 
But I am not built on such wild humours,  
If I find time worthy, he is not less,  
Because he's offered.  Spa. 
'tis true, he is not, would he would seem less:  Gob. 
I think there is no Lady can affect  
Another Prince, your Brother standing by;  
He does eclipse men's virtues so with this.  Spa. 
I know a Lady may, and more I fear  
Another Lady will.  Pan. 
Would I might see him:  Gob. 
Why so you shall: my businesses are great,  
I will attend you when it is his pleasure  
To see you Madam.  Pan. 
I thank you good my Lord.  Gob. 
You will be ready Madam:  Exit. Pan. 
Yes.  Spa. 
I do beseech you Madam send away  
Your other women, and receive from me  
A few sad words, which set against your joys,  
May make 'em shine the more.  Pan. 
Sirs leave me all.  Spa. 
I kneel a stranger here to beg a thing  
Unfit for me to ask, and you to grant,  
'tis such another strange ill laid request,  
As if a beggar should entreat a King  
To leave his Sceptre and his Throne to him,  
And take his rags to wander o'er the World  
Hungry and cold.  Pan. 
That were a strange request.  Spa. 
As ill is mine.  Pan. 
Then do not utter it.  Spa. 
Alas, 'tis of that nature, that it must  
Be uttered, ay, and granted, or I die:  
I am ashamed to speak it; but where life  
Lies at the stake, I cannot think her woman,  
That will not take something unreasonably  
To hazard saving of it: I shall seem  
A strange petitioner, that wish all ill  
To them I beg of, ere they give me aught,  
Yet so I must: I would you were not fair,  
Nor wise, for in your ill consists my good:  
If you were foolish, you would hear my prayer;  
If foul, you had not power to hinder me:  
He would not love you.  Pan. 
What's the meaning of it?  Spa. 
Nay, my request is more without the bounds  
Of reason yet; for 'tis not in the power  
Of you to do what I would have you grant.  Pan. 
Why then 'tis idle, prithee speak it out.  Spa. 
Your brother brings a Prince into this Land  
Of such a noble shape, so sweet a grace,  
So full of worth withal, that every maid  
That looks upon him, gives away herself  
To him for ever; and for you to have  
He brings him: and so mad is my demand,  
That I desire you not to have this man,  
This excellent man, for whom you needs must die,  
If you should miss him. I do now expect  
You should laugh at me.  Pan. 
Trust me, I could weep  
Rather, for I have found in all thy words  
A strange disjointed sorrow.  Spa. 
'tis by me,  
His own desire too, that you would not love him.  Pan. 
His own desire, why credit me Thalestris  
I am no common wooer: If he shall woo me,  
His worth may be such, that I dare not swear  
I will not love him; but if he will stay  
To have me woo him, I will promise thee  
He may keep all his graces to himself,  
And fear no ravishing from me.  Spa. 
'tis yet  
His own desire, but when he sees your face,  
I fear it will not be; therefore I charge you  
As you have pity, stop those tender ears  
From his enchanting voice, close up those eyes,  
That you may neither catch a dart from him,  
Nor he from you: I charge you as you hope  
To live in quiet, for when I am dead  
For certain I shall walk to visit him,  
If he break promise with me: for as fast  
As oaths without a formal ceremony  
Can make me, I am to him:  Pan. 
Then be fearless,  
For if he were a thing twixt God and man,  
I could gaze on him; (if I knew it sin,  
To love him) without passion: Dry your eyes,  
I swear you shall enjoy him still for me,  
I will not hinder you; but I perceive  
You are not what you seem: Rise, rise, Thalestris.  
If your right name be so.  Spa. 
Indeed it is not  
Spaconia is name; but I desire  
Not to be known to others:  Pan. 
Why, by me  
You shall not, I will never do you wrong,  
What good I can, I will; think not my birth,  
Or education such, that I should injure  
A stranger Virgin: you are welcome hither.  
In company you wish to be commanded,  
But when we are alone, I shall be ready  
To be your servant.  Exit. Enter three men, and a woman. 1. 
Come, come, run, run, run:  2. 
We shall outgo her.  3. 
One were better be hanged, then carry women out fiddling to these shows.  Weo. 
Is the King hard by?  1. 
You heard he with the bottles say, he thought we should come too late, what abundance of people here is.  Weo. 
But what had he in those bottles?  3. 
I know not.  3. 
Why, Ink good man fool:  3. 
Ink, what to do?  1. 
Why, the King look you, will many times call for those bottles, and break his mind to his friends.  Weo. 
Let's take our places quickly, we shall have no room else.  2. 
The man told us he would walk a foot through the people.  3. 
I marry did he.  1. 
Our shops are well look to now:  2. 
S'life yonder's my Master I think.  1. 
No, 'tis not he.  Enter two Citizens wives, and Philip. 1 Cit. 
Lord, how fine the fields be, what sweet living 'tis in the Country.  2 Cit. 
ay, poor souls, God help 'em; they live as contentedly as one of us.  1 Cit. 
My husband's x would have had me gone into the Country last year, wert thou ever there?  2 Cit. 
ay, poor souls, I was amongst 'em once.  1 Cit. 
And what kind of creatures are they for love of God?  2 Cit. 
Very good people, God help 'em:  1 Cit. 
Wilt thou go with me down this summer, when I am brought a-bed?  2 Cit. 
Alas, 'tis no place for us.  1 Cit. 
Why prithee?  2 Cit. 
Why, you can have nothing there; there's nobody cries brooms.  1 Cit. 
No?  2 Cit. 
No truly, nor milk.  1 Cit. 
Nor milk, how do they?  2 Cit. 
They are feign to milk themselves i'th' Country.  1 Cit. 
Good Lord: but the people there I think will be very dutiful to one of us?  2 Cit. 
ay, God knows will they, and yet they do not greatly care for our Husbands.  1 Cit. 
Do they not, alas? In good faith I cannot blame them: for we do not greatly care for them ourselves. Philip I pray choose us a place.  Phil. 
There's the best forsooth.  1 Cit. 
By your leave good people a little:  1. 
What's the matter?  Phi. 
I pray my friend do not thrust my Mistress so, she's with child.  2. 
Let her look to herself then, has she not had thrusting enough yet; if she stay shouldering here, she may hap to go home with a Cake in her belly.  3. 
How now goodman squitterbreech, why do you lean so on me?  Phil. 
Because I will.  3. 
Will you sir saucebox?  1 Cit. 
Look if one have not struck Philip, come hither Philip, why did he strike thee?  Phil. 
For leaning on him.  1 Cit. 
Why didst thou lean on him?  Phil. 
I did not think he would have struck me.  1 Cit. 
As God save me la, thou art as wild as a Buck, there is no quarrel, but thou art at one end or other of it.  3. 
It's at the first end then; for he will never stay the last.  1 Cit. 
Well stripling, I shall meet with you.  3. 
when you will.  1 Cit. 
I'll give a crown to meet with you:  3. 
At a bawdy house.  1 Cit. 
ay, you are full of your roguery; but if I do meet you it shall cost me a fall.  3. 
The King, the King, the King, the King:  
Now, now, now, now.  Enter Arbaces, Tigranes, Mardonius, and others. All 
God preserve your Majesty.  Arb. 
I thank you all: Now are my joys at full,  
when I behold you safe my loving Subjects;  
By you I grow, 'tis your united love  
That lifts me to this height:  
All the account that I can render you  
For all the love you have bestowed on me,  
All your expenses to maintain my war,  
Is but a little word: you will imagine  
'tis slender payment; yet 'tis such a word  
As is not to be bought without our bloods;  
'tis peace.  All. 
God preserve your Majesty.  Arb. 
Now you may live securely in your Towns,  
Your Children round about you; you may sit  
Under your vines, and make the miseries  
Of other Kingdoms a discourse for you,  
And lend them sorrows: For yourselves you may  
Safely forget there are such things as tears;  
And may you all whose good thoughts I have gained,  
Hold me unworthy, when I think my life  
A sacrifice too great to keep you thus  
In such a calm estate:  All. 
God bless your Majesty.  Arb. 
See all good people, I have brought the man,  
Whose very name you feared, a captive home:  
Behold him, 'tis Tigranes; in your hearts  
Sing songs of gladness, and deliverance.  1 Cit. 
Out upon him.  2 Cit. 
How he looks.  3 Weo. 
Hang him, hang him, hang him.  Mar 
These are sweet people.  Tigr. 
Sir, you do me wrong,  
To render me a scorned spectacle  
To common people.  Arb. 
It was far from me  
To mean it so: if I have aught deserved,  
My loving Subjects let me beg of you  
Not to revile this Prince, in whom their dwells  
All worth of which the nature of a man  
Is capable; valour beyond compare,  
The terror of his name has stretched itself  
wherever there is sun: and yet for you,  
I fought with him single, and won him too;  
I made his valour stoop, and made that name  
Soared to so unbelieved a height, to fall  
Beneath mine: This inspired with all your loves,  
I did perform, and will for your content  
Be ever ready for a greater work.  All. 
The Lord bless your Majesty.  Tigr. 
So, he has made me amends now, with a speech in commendations of himself: I would not be so vainglorious.  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,  
Thus my occasions for the good of you,  
Are suchas calls me from you; else my joy  
Would be to spend my days amongst you all.  
You show 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 Children's Children  
Fate 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.  Exeunt. All. 
God bless your Majesty.  1. 
Come, shall we go, all's done.  Weo. 
I for God's sake, I have not made a fire yet:  2. 
Away, away, all's done.  3. 
Content: Farewell Philip.  1 Cit. 
Away, you haltersack you:  1. 
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 like a visor.  Exeunt 1, 2, 3, and Women. 1 Cit. 
You'll be hanged sirrah: Come Philip, walk afore us homeward; did not his Majesty say, he had brought us home Peases for our money?  2 Cit. 
Yes marry did he.  1 Cit. 
They are the first I heard on 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 shall anon I warrant you, have every one a peck brought home to our houses.  
Finis Actus Secundi.   

Actus Tertij Scaena Prima.  Enter Arbaces, and Gobrius. Arb. 
MY Sister take it ill?  Gob. 
Not very ill,  
Something unkindly she doth take it Sir,  
To have her Husband chosen to her hands.  Arb. 
Why Gobrius 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 will have her; but when you behold her,  
You will be loath to part with such a jewel.  Arb. 
To part with her, why Gobrius 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 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 forced to have him, when I know  
'tis fit: I will not hear her say she's loath.  Gob. 
Heaven bring my purpose luckily to pass,  
You know 'tis just: Sir, she'll 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 would not eat,  
Till you were well; 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 ruled;  
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 Tigranes. Gent. 
Sir, here's the Armenian King.  Arb. 
he's welcome.  Gent. 
And the Queen Mother, and the PRINCE's wait without:  Arb. 
Good Gobrius bring them in,  
Tigranes you will think you are arrived  
In a strange Land, where Mother's cast to poison  
Their only sons; think you you shall be safe?  Tigr. 
Too safe I am Sir.  Enter Gobrius, Arane, Panthaea, Spaconia, Bacurius, Mardonius, and Bessus. Ara. 
As low as this I bow to you, and would  
As low as to my grave, to show a mind  
Thankful for all your mercies.  Arb. 
O stand up,  
And let me kneel, the light will be ashamed  
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; than you shall be  
As white as innocence herself.  Ara. 
I came  
Only to show my duty, and acknowledge  
My sorrow for my sins; longer to stay  
we'll but to draw eyes more attentively  
upon my shame: That power that kept you safe  
From me preserve you still.  Exit. Arb. 
Your own desires shall be your guard.  Pan 
Now let me die,  
Since I have seen my Lord the King return  
In safety, I have seen all good that life  
Can show me; I have near 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,  
Armed, 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 darest not see my face show forth thyself:  
I feel a pair of fiery wings displayed  
Hither, from thence; you shall not tarry there,  
up, and be gone, if thou be'st love, be gone,  
Or I will tear thee from my wounded flesh,  
Pull thy loved down away, and with a quill  
By this right arm drawn from thy wanton wing,  
write to thy laughing Mother in thy blood,  
That you are Powers belied, and all your darts  
Are to be blown away by men resolved  
Like dust; I know thou fear'st my words, away.  Tigr. 
O misery, why should he be so slow,  
There can no falsehood come of loving her,  
Though I have given my faith; she is a thing  
Both to be loved and served 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  
Poisoned with anger that may strike me dead:  Mar. 
Have you no life at all? for manhood's 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 loved 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 suit to me?  
It shall 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. 
Gobrius, 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?  Gob. 
Some one that has a wit, answer; where is she?  Arb. 
Do you not see her there?  Gob. 
Where?  Arb. 
There.  Gob. 
There, where?  Mar. 
'Slight 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 hell, by Heaven as false as hell,  
My sister: Is she dead? if it be so,  
Speak boldly to me: for I am a man,  
And dare not quarrel with divinity;  
But do not think to cozen me with this:  
I see you all are mute, and stand amazed,  
Fearful to answer me; it is too true  
A decreed instant cuts off every life,  
For which to mourn, is to repine; she died  
A Virgin though, more innocent than sleeps,  
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 shall see me bear  
My crosses like a man; we all must die,  
And she hath taught us how.  Gob. 
Do not mistake,  
And vex yourself for nothing; for her death  
Is a long life of yet I hope: 'tis she,  
And if my speech deserve not faith, lay death  
Upon me, and my latest words shall force  
A credit from you.  Arb. 
Which good Gobrius,  
That Lady dost thou mean?  Gob. 
That Lady Sir.  Arb. 
It cannot be.  Tigr. 
Pish, this is tedious,  
I cannot hold, I must present myself;  
And yet the sight of my Spaconia,  
Touches me, as a sudden thunderclap  
Does one that is about to sin.  Arb. 
Away,  
No more of this; here I pronounce him Traitor,  
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 fully as pardonable:  
She is no kin to me, nor shall she be;  
If she were any, I create her none,  
And which of you can question this, my power  
Is like the Sea, that is to be obeyed,  
And not disputed with: I have decreed her  
As far from having part of blood with me,  
As the naked Indians: Come, and answer me,  
He that is boldest now; Is that my Sister?  Mar. 
O this is fine.  Bes. 
No marry is she 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 shouldst be hanged.  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 unquestioned word; else I shall live  
Like sinful 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 music in a voice,  
And sin for me to hear it: All the world  
May take delight in this, and 'tis damnation  
For me to do so; you are fair, and wise,  
And virtuous I think, and he is blessed  
That is so near you as your 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'erthrow Divinity, all moral Laws,  
And leave mankind as unconfined as beasts,  
Allowing them to do all actions  
As freely as they drink, when they desire.  
Let me not hear you speak again; yet so  
I shall but languish 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 change,  
And you shall see it end some other way.  Pan. 
Pray God it do.  Tigr. 
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 prisoner 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 in the Court,  
And only suffered to walk up and down,  
As one not worth the owning.  Spa. 
O, I fear  
Tigranes will be caught, he looks methinks  
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 misbecome your looks,  
Can you want owning?  Spa 
O, 'tis certain so.  Tigr. 
Acknowledge yourself mine.  Arb. 
How now?  Tigr. 
And then see if you want an owner,  Arb. 
They are talking.  Tigr. 
Nations shall own 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 how dare you then 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 folly  
To credit it: The least word that she speaks  
Is worth a life: rule your disordered tongue,  
Or I will temper it.  Spa. 
Blessed be that breath.  Tigr. 
Temper my tongue; such incivilities  
As these, no barbarous people ever knew:  
You break the law of Nature, and of Nations;  
You talk to me, as if I were a prisoner  
For theft: my tongue be tempered? 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'ercome,  
Again thou shouldst be conquered by me.  Mar. 
He has one ransom with him already, methinks 'twere good to fight double, or quit.  Arb. 
Away with him to prison; Now Sir see  
If my frown be regardless: why delay you?  
Seize him Bacurius, you shall know my word  
Sweeps like a wind, and all it grapples with▪  
Are as the chaff before it.  Tigr. 
Touch me not.  Arb. 
Help there.  Tigr. 
Away.  1 Gent. 
It is in vain to struggle.  2 Gent. 
You must be forced.  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 oughtst to give me strength enough  
To shake all these off: This is tyranny  
Arbaces, subtler than the burning Bulls,  
Or that famed tyrant's bed. Thou mightst as well  
Search in the depth of winter through the Snow  
For half starved people, to bring home with thee  
To show 'em fire, and send 'em back again,  
As use me thus.  Arb. 
Let him be close Bacurius.  Spa. 
I near rejoiced at any ill to him,  
But this imprisonment: what shall become  
Of me forsaken?  Gob. 
You will not let your sister  
Depart thus discontented from you Sir?  Arb. 
By no means Gobrius, I have done her wrong,  
And made myself believe much of myself,  
That is not in me: you did kneel to me,  
Whilst I stood stubborn and regardless by;  
And like a god incensed, gave no ear  
To all your prayers: behold, I kneel to you,  
Show 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,  
Then 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; here 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 call thee otherwise,  
Perdition light upon me.  Pan. 
This is better  
Than if you had not frowned, it comes to me  
Like mercy 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 still in doubt,  
This, this third kiss, blots it out. I wade in sin,  
And foolishly entice myself along:  
Take her away, see her a prisoner  
In her own chamber, closely Gobrius.  Pan. 
Alas Sir, why?  Arb. 
I must not stay the answer, do it.  Pan. 
Good Sir.  Arb. 
No more, do it I say.  Mar. 
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 poisoner, and a traitor.  Bac. 
Madam, this Office grieves me.  Gob. 
Nay, 'tis well the King is pleased with it.  Arb. 
Bessus, go you along too with her; I will prove  
All 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 it twixt her lips, and with her eyes  
She witch's people: go without a word. Exeunt omnes, pre.  
Why should you that have made me stand in war Ar. Mar.  
Like fate itself, cutting what threads I pleased,  
Decree such an unworthy end of me,  
And all my glories? what am I alas,  
That you oppose me? If my secret thoughts  
Have ever harboured swellings 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, then punish me  
With such unmanly sins: Incest is in me  
Dwelling already, and it must be holy  
That pulls it thence; where art Mardonius?  Mar. 
Here Sir.  Arb. 
I prithee 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 know'st  
I could have gone, though I could never run.  Mar. 
And so I shall again.  Arb 
O no, 'tis past.  Mar. 
Pray ye go, rest yourself.  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 prithee do: for thou shalt never see me so again.  Mar. 
I warrant ye.  Exeunt. Enter Bessus. Bes. 
They talk of fame, I have gotten it in the wars, and will afford any man a reasonable pennyworth: some will say they could be content to have it, but that it is to be achieved with danger; but my opinion is otherwise: for if I might stand still in Canon proof, and have fame fall upon me, I would refuse it: My reputation came principally by thinking to run away, which nobody knows but Mardonius, and I think he conceals it to anger me. Before I went to the wars, I came to the Town a young fellow without means, or parts, to deserve friends; and my empty guts persuaded 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 cried out on me, rail still; then methought I had a monstrous stomach to abuse them again, and did it. In this state I continued till they hung me up by th'heels and beat me with hazel sticks, as if they would have baked me, and have cozened somebody with me for Venison: After this I railed, and sat quietly: for the whole Kingdom took notice of me for a baffled whipped fellow, and what I said, was remembered in mirth, but never in anger; of which I was glad, I would it were at that pass again: After this, God called an aunt of mine, that left two hundred pounds in a cousin's hand for me, who taking me to be a gallant 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 battle but once, and there I was running, but Mardonius cudgeled me; yet I got loose at last, but was so afraid, that I saw no more than my shoulders do, 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 improved. A plague of their eloquence, 'twill cost me many a beating: And Mardonius might help this too if he would; for now they think to get honour of me, and all the men I have abused, call me freshly to account, worthily as they call it, by the way of challenge.  Enter Gent. Gent. 
Good morrow Captain Bessus.  Bes. 
Good morrow Sir.  Gent. 
I come to speak with you.  Bes. 
You are very welcome.  Gent. 
From one that holds himself wronged by you some three years since: your worth he says is famed, & he nothing doubts but you will do him right, as beseems a Soldier.  Bes. 
A pox on 'em, so they cry all.  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 challenge Sir, is it not?  Gent. 
'tis an inviting to the field.  Bess. 
An inviting? O cry you mercy, what a complement he delivers it with? he might as agreeably to my nature present me poison with such a speech: umh reputation, umh call you to an account, umh forced to this, umh with my sword, umh like a gentleman, umh dear to me, umh satisfaction: 'tis very well Sir, I do accept it, but he must await an answer this thirteen weeks.  Gent. 
Why Sir, he would be glad to wipe off his stain as soon as he can, Sir upon my credit I am already engaged to two hundred and twelve, all which must have their stains wiped off, if that be the word before him.  Gent. 
Sir, if you be truly engaged but to one, he shall stay a competent time.  Bess. 
Upon my faith Sir to two hundred and twelve, and I have a spent body too much bruised in battle, so that I cannot fight, I must be plain with you, above three combats a day: All the kindness I can do him, is to set him resolutely in my roll the two hundred and thirteenth man, which is something: for I tell you, I think there will be more after him, then before him, I think so pray ye commend me to him, and tell him this.  Gent. 
I will Sir, good morrow to you.  Exit: Bess. 
Good morrow good Sir. Certainly my safest way were to print myself a coward, with a discovery how I came by my credit, and clap it upon every post: I have received above thirty challenges within this two hours, marry all but the first I put off with engagement, and by good fortune the first is no madder of fighting than I, so that that's reserved. The place where it must be ended, is four days journey of, and our arbitrators are there: He has chosen a gentleman in travel, and I have a special friend, with a quartern ague likely to hold him this time here, for mine; and when his man comes home, we are to expect my friend's health: If they would send me challenges thus thick, as long as I lived I would have no other living; I can make seven shillings a day oh th' paper to the Grocers: yet I learn nothing by all these but a little skill in comparing of styles. I do find evidently that there is some one Scrivener in this Town, that has a great hand in writing of challenges, for they are all of a cut, and six of 'em in a hand; and they all end, my reputation is dear to me, and I must require satisfaction: whose's there? more paper I hope; no, 'tis my Lord Bacurius, I fear all is not well betwixt us.  Enter Bacurius. Bac. 
Now Captain Bessus, I come about a frivolous matter, caused by as idle a report: you know you were a coward.  Bess. 
Very right.  Bac. 
And wronged me.  Bess. 
True my Lord.  Bac. 
But now people will call you valiant, desertlessly I think yet for their satisfaction, I will have you fight with me.  Bess. 
O my good Lord, my deep engagements.  Bac. 
Tell not me of your engagements, Captain Bessus; it is not to be put off with an excuse: for my own part, I am none of the multitude that believe your conversion from coward.  Bess. 
My Lord, I seek not quarrels, and this belongs not to me, I am not to maintain it.  Bac. 
Who then pray?  Bess. 
Bessus the coward wronged you.  Bac. 
Right.  Bess. 
And shall Bessus the valiant, maintain what Bessus the coward did?  Bac. 
I prithee leave these cheating tricks, I swear thou shalt fight with me, or thou shalt be beat extremely, and kicked.  Bess. 
Since you provoke me thus far my Lord, I will fight with you; and by my Sword it shall cost me twenty pounds, but I will have my leg a week sooner purposely.  Bac. 
Your leg, why what ails your leg? I'll do a cure on you, stand up.  Bess. 
My Lord, this is not noble in you:  Bac. 
What dost thou with such a phrase in thy mouth?  
I will kick thee out of all good words before I leave thee.  Bess. 
My Lord, I take this as a punishment for the offence  
I did when I was a coward.  Bac. 
When thou wert? confess thyself a coward still, or by this light, I'll beat thee into sponge.  Bess. 
Why I am one:  Bac. 
Are you so Sir, and why do you wear a sword then? Come, unbuckle, quick.  Bes. 
My Lord.  Bac. 
Unbuckle I say, and give it me, or as I live, thy head will ache extremely.  Bess. 
It is a pretty hilt, and if your Lordship take an affection to it, with all my heart, I present it to you for a newyears gift.  Bac. 
I thank you very heartily, sweet Captain farewell.  Bess. 
One word more, I beseech your Lordship to render me my knife again.  Bac. 
Marry by all means Captain, cherish yourself with it, and eat hard good Captain; we cannot tell whether we shall have any more such: A due dear Captain.  Exit. Bess. 
I will make better use of this, then of my sword: A base spirit has this vantage of a brave one; it keeps always at a stay, nothing brings it down, not beating. I remember I promised the King in a great audience, that I would make my backbiters eat my sword to a knife, how to get another sword I know not, nor know any means left for me to maintain my credit but impudence: Therefore will I outswear him and all his followers, that this is all is left uneaten of my sword.  Exit. Enter Mardonius. Mar. 
I'll moan the King, he is most strangely altered; I guess the cause I fear too right, Heaven has some secret end in't, and 'tis a scourge no question justly laid upon him: He has followed me through twenty rooms, and ever when I stay to await his command, he blushes like a girl, and looks upon me, as if modesty kept in his business: so turns away from me, but if I go on, he follows me again. See, here he is, I do not use this, yet I know not how, I cannot choose but weep to see him: his very enemies I think, whose wounds have bred his fame, if they should see him now, would find tears in their eyes.  Arb. 
I cannot utter it, why should I keep  
A breast to harbour thoughts? I dare not speak:  
Darkness is in my bosom, and there lies  
A thousand thoughts that cannot brook the light;  
How wilt thou vex me when this deed is done  
Conscience? that art afraid to let me name it.  Mar. 
How do you Sir?  Arb. 
Why very well Mardonius; how dost thou?  Mar. 
Better then you I fear.  Arb. 
I hope thou art; for to be plain with thee,  
Thou art in hell else: secret scorching flames  
That far transcend earthly material fires,  
Art crept into me, and there is no cure;  
Is not that strange Mardonius, there's no cure?  Mar. 
Sir, either I mistake, or there is something hid  
That you would utter to me.  Arb. 
So there is, but yet I cannot do it.  Mar. 
Out with it Sir, if it be dangerous I shall not shrink to do you service, I shall not esteem my life a weightier matter than indeed it is, I know 'tis subject to more chances than it hath hours, and I were better lose it in my king's cause, then with an ague. or fall, or sleeping to a thief; as all these are probable enough: let me but know what I shall do for you.  Arb. 
It will not out: were you with Gobrius,  
And bade him give my sister all content  
The place affords, and give her leave to send  
And speak to whom she please?  Mar. 
Yes Sir, I was.  Arb 
And did you to Bacurius say as much  
About Tigranes?  Mar. 
Yes.  Arb. 
That's all my business.  Mar 
O say not so,  
You had an answer of all this before,  
Besides, I think this business might be uttered  
More carelessly.  Arb. 
Come, thou shalt have it out; I do beseech thee  
By all the love thou hast professed to me,  
To see my Sister from me.  Mar. 
Well, and what?  Arb. 
That's all.  Mar 
That's strange, shall I say nothing to her?  Arb 
Not a word;  
But if thou lovest me, find some subtle way  
To make her understand by signs.  Mar. 
But what, what should I make her understand?  Arb. 
O Mardonius, for that I must be pardoned.  Mar. 
You may, but I can only see her then.  Arb. 
'tis true;  
Bear her this ring then, and on more advice  
Thou shalt speak to her: Tell her I do love  
My kindred all; wilt thou?  Mar. 
Is there no more?  Arb. 
O yes, and her the best;  
Better than any brother loves his sister: That's all.  Mar. 
methinks this  
Need not have been delivered with such caution;  
I'll do it.  Arb: 
There is more yet,  
Wilt thou be faithful to me?  Mar. 
Sir, if I take upon me to deliver it,  
After I hear it, He pass through fire to do it:  Arb. 
I love her better than a brother ought;  
Dost thou conceive me?  Mar. 
I hope I do not Sir.  Arb. 
No, thou art dull, kneel down before her,  
And near rise again, till she will love me.  Mar. 
Why, I think she does.  Arb. 
But better than she does, another way;  
As wives love Husbands.  Mar. 
Why, I think there are few wives that love their  
Husbands better than she does you.  Arb. 
Thou wilt not understand me: is it fit  
This should be uttered plainly; take it then  
Naked as it is: I would desire her love  
Lasciviously, lewdly, incestuously,  
To do a sin that needs must damn us both;  
And thee to: Dost thou understand me now?  Mar. 
Yes, there's your Ring again; what have I done  
Dishonestly in my whole life, name it.  
That you should put so base a business to me?  Arb 
Didst thou not tell me thou wouldst do it?  Mar. 
Yes, if I undertook it; but if all  
My heirs were lives, I would not be engaged  
In such a cause to save my last life.  Arb. 
O guilt, how poor, and weak a thing art thou?  
This man that is my servant, whom my breath  
Might blow about the world, might beat me here  
Having his cause, whilst I priest down with sin  
Could not resist him, dear Mardonius  
It was a motion misbeseeming man.  
And I am sorry for it.  Mar. 
Pray God you may be so: you must understand, nothing that you can utter, can remove my love and service from my Prince. But otherwise, I think I shall not love you more. For you are sinful, and if you do this crime, you ought to have no laws. For after this it will be great injustice in you to punish any offendor for any crime: For myself I find my heart too big, I feel I have not patience to look on whilst you run these forbidden courses: Means I have none but your Favour, and I am rather glad, that I shall lose 'em both together, then keep 'em with such conditions, I shall find a dwelling amongst some people, where though our garments perhaps be courser, we shall be richer far within, and harbour no such vices in 'em. God preserve you, and mend you.  Arb. 
Mardonius, stay Mardonius, For though  
My present state require nothing but knaves  
To be about me, such as are prepared  
For every wicked act▪ yet who does know  
But that my loathed Fate may turn about,  
And I have use of honest men again:  
I hope I may, I prithee leave me not.  Enter Bessus to them. Bess. 
Where is the King?  Mar. 
There.  Bes. 
An't please your Majesty, there's the knife.  Arb. 
What knife:  Bes. 
The Sword is eaten.  Mar. 
Away you Fool▪ the King is serious,  
And cannot now admit your vanities.  Bes. 
Vanities, I am no honest man if my enemies have not brought it to this, what, do you think I lie?  Arb. 
No, no, 'tis well Bessus, 'tis very well,  Mar. 
I am glad on't.  
If your enemies brought it to that, your enemies are cutlers,  
Come, leave the King.  Arb 
No, let him stay Mardonius, let him stay,  
I have occasions with him very weighty,  
And I can spare you now.  Mar. 
Sir.  Arb. 
Why I can spare you now.  Bes. 
Mardonius give way to the state affairs  Mar. 
Indeed you are fitter for his present purpose.  exit. Arb. 
Bessus I should employ thee; wilt thou do't  Bes. 
Do for you, by this air I will do any thing without exception, be it a good, bad, or indifferent thing.  Arb. 
Do not swear.  Bes. 
By this light but I will,  
Any thing whatsoever.  Arb. 
But I shall name a thing  
Thy conscience will not suffer thee to do.  Bes. 
I would fain hear that thing.  Arb. 
Why I would have thee get my Sister for me:  
Thou understands me in a wicked manner.  Bes. 
O you would have about with her?  
I'll do't, I'll do't i'faith.  Arb. 
Wilt thou, dost make no more an't?  Bes. 
More, no, why is there any thing else, if there be tell me, it shall be done.  Arb. 
Hast thou no greater sense of such a sin?  
Thou art too wicked for my company  
Though I have hell within me, and mayst yet  
Corrupt me further: pray thee answer me  
How do I show to thee after this motion?  Bes. 
Why your Majesty looks as well in my opinion as ever you did since you were borne:  Arb. 
But thou appearest to me after thy grant  
The ugliest, loathed, detestable thing  
That I have ever met with. Thou hast eyes  
Like flames of Sulphur, which methinks do dart  
Infection on me, and thou hast a mouth  
Enough to take me in, where there do stand  
four rows of Iron teeth.  Bes. 
I feel no such thing, but 'tis no matter how I look, I'll do your business as well as they that look better, and when this is dispatched, if you have a mind to your Mother tell me, and you shall see I'll set it hard:  Arb. 
My Mother, Heaven forgive me to hear this,  
I am inspired with horror: I hate thee  
Worse than my sin, which if I could come by,  
Should suffer death eternal, near to rise  
In any breast again. Know I will die  
Languishing mad, as I resolve I shall,  
Ere I will deal by such an Instrument:  
Thou art too sinful to employ in this;  
Out of the world, away.  Bess. 
What do you mean Sir?  Arb. 
Hung round with curses, take thy fearful flight into the deserts, where 'mongst all the monsters,  
If thou findst one foe beastly as thyself,  
Thou shalt be held as innocent.  Bess. 
Good Sir.  Arb. 
If there were no such Instruments as thou,  
We Kings could never act such wicked deeds:  
Seek out a man that mocks Divinity,  
That breaks each precept both of Gods and man's,  
And Natures too, and does it without lust;  
merely because it is a law, and good,  
And live with him: for him thou canst not spoil.  
Away I say; I will not do this sin.  Exit Bessus. 
I'll press it here till it do break my breast;  
It heaves to get out: but thou art a sin  
And spite of torture, I will keep thee in.  
Finis Actus Tertij.   

Actus Quarti Scaena Prima.  Enter Gobrius, Panthaea, Spaconia. Gob. 
Have you written Madam?  Pan. 
Yes, good Gobrias.  Gob. 
And with a kindness, and such winning words  
As may provoke him at one instant fee e  
His double fault, your wrong, and his own rashness.  Pan. 
I have sent words enough, if words may win him  
From his displeasure, and such words I hope  
As shall gain much upon his goodness, Gobrius:  
Yet fearing since theyare many, and a woman's,  
A poor belief may follow; I have woven  
As many truths within 'em to speak for me,  
That if he be but gracious, and receive 'em.  Gob. 
Good Lady, be not fearful; if he should not  
Give you your present end in this believe it  
You shall feel (if your virtue can induce you  
To labour out this tempest, which I know  
Is but a poor proof against your patience,  
All those contents your spirit will arrive at  
Newer and sweeter to you; your royal brother  
(When he shall once collect himself, and see  
How far he has been asunder from himself,  
What a mere stranger to his golden temper)  
Must from those roots of virtue, (never dying  
Though somewhat stopped with humour) shoot again  
Into a thousand glories bearing his far branches  
high as our hopes can look at straight as justice,  
Laden with rich contents: he loves you dearly,  
I know it, and I hope I need not further  
Win you to understand it.  Pan. 
I believe it,  
Howsoever I am sure I love him dearly,  
So dearly, that if any thing I write  
For my enlarging, should beget high anger;  
Heaven be a witness with me, and my faith  
I had rather live entombed here.  Gob. 
You shall not feel a worse stroke than your grief, I am sorry 'tis so sharp: I kiss your hand, and this night will deliver this true story with this hand to your brother.  Exit. Pan. 
Peace go with you,  
You are a good man; my Spaconia  
Why are you ever sad thus?  Spa. 
O dear Lady.  
Many, and strange ones,  
I feel my old fire flame again, and burn  
So strong and violent, that should I see her  
Again, the grief, and that would kill me lady.  Enter Bac. and Spac. Bac. 
Your token I acknowledge, you may pass;  
There is the King.  Spac. 
I thank your Lordship for it.  Ex. Bac. Tigr. 
she comes, she comes, shame hide me ever from her; would I were buried, or so far removed  
Light might not find me out: I dare not see her.  Spac. 
Nay, never hide yourself; for were you hid  
where earth hides all her riches, near her centre;  
My wrongs without more day would light me to you:  
I must speak ere I die; were all your greatness  
Doubled upon you, you're a perjured man,  
And only mighty in the wickedness  
Of wronging women. Thou art false, false Prince,  
I live to see it: poor Spaconia lives  
To tell thee thou art false; and then no more:  
She lives to tell thee thou art more unconstant  
Than all ill women ever were together;  
Thy faith as firm as raging overflows,  
That no bank can command; and as lasting  
As boys gay bubbles blown in the air, and broken:  
The wind is fixed to thee, and sooner shall  
The beaten Mariner with his shrill whistle,  
Calm the loud murmurs of the troubled main,  
And strike it smooth again; than thy soul fall  
To have peace in love with any: Thou art all  
That all good men must hate, and if thy story  
Shall tell succeeding ages what thou wert,  
O let it spare me in it, lest true Lovers  
In pity of my wrongs burn thy black legend,  
And with their curses shake thy sleeping ashes.  Tigr. 
Oh, oh:  
The destinies I hope have pointed out  
Our ends alike, that thou mayst die for love,  
Though not for me: for this assure thyself,  
The Princess hates thee deadly, and will sooner  
Be won to marry with a Bull, and safer,  
Than such a beast as thou art: I have struck  
I fear too deep; beshrew me for't: Sir,  
This sorrow works me like a cunning friendship,  
Into the same piece with it; he's ashamed,  
Alas, I have been too rugged: Dear my Lord,  
I am sorry I have spoken any thing,  
Indeed I am, that may add more restraint  
To that too much you have: Good Sir be pleased  
To think it was a fault of love, not malice;  
And do as I will do: forgive it Prince,  
I do, and can forgive the greatest sins  
To me you can repent of; pray believe me.  Tigr. 
O my Spaconia! O thou virtuous woman!  Spa. 
No more, the King Sir.  Enter Arbaces, Bacurius, and Mardonius. Arb. 
Have you been careful of our noble Prisoner  
That he want nothing fitting for his greatness?  Bac. 
I hope his grace will quit me, for my care Sir.  Arb. 
'tis well, royal Tigranes' health.  Tig. 
More than the strictness of this place can give Sir I offer back again to great Arbaces.  Arb. 
We thank you worthy Prince, and pray excuse us,  
We have not seen you since your being here,  
I hope your noble usage has been equal  
With your own Person: your imprisonment  
If it be any, I dare say is easy,  
And shall not outlast two days.  Tigr. 
I thank you:  
My usage here has been the same it was  
Worthy a royal Conqueror. For my restraint  
It came unkindly, because much unlooked for;  
But I must bear it:  Arb. 
What Lady is that Bacurius?  Bac. 
One of the Princess women Sir.  Arb. 
I feared it: why comes she hither!  Bac. 
To speak with the Prince Tigranes.  Arb. 
From whom Bacurius?  Bac. 
From the Princess Sir.  Arb. 
I know I had seen her.  Mardo. 
His fit begins to take him now again  
'tis a strange Fever, and 'twill shake us all  
Anon I fear; would he were well cured of this raging folly: Give me the wars, where men are mad, and may talk what they list, and held the bravest Fellows; This pelting prattling peace is good for nothing: drink's a virtue to it:  Arb. 
I see there's truth in no man, nor obedience,  
But for his own ends, why did you let her in?  Bac. 
It was your own command to bar none from him,  
Beside the Princess sent her Ring Sir  
For my warrant.  Arb. 
A token to Tigranes, did she not:  
Sirrah tell truth.  Bac. 
I do not use to lie Sir,  
'tis no way I eat or live by, and I think  
This is no token Sir.  Mar. 
This combat has undone him: If he had been well beaten, he had been temperate: I shall never see him handsome again, till he have a Horseman's staff poked through his shoulders, or an arm broke with a Bullet.  Arb. 
I am trifled with.  Bac. 
Sir.  Arb. 
I know it, as I know thee to be false.  Mar. 
Now the clap comes.  Bac. 
You never knew me so Sir, I dare speak it,  
And durst a worse man tell me though my better.  Mar. 
'tis well said by my Soul.  Arb 
Sirrah you answer as you had no life.  Bac. 
That I fear Sir to lose nobly.  Arb 
I say Sir once again  Bac. 
You may say Sir what you please.  Mar. 
would I might do so.  Arb. 
I will Sir, and say openly this woman carries letters, by my life I know she carries letters, this woman does it:  Mar. 
Would Bessus were here to take her aside and search her, he would quickly tell you what she carried Sir.  Arb. 
I have found it out, this woman carries letters.  Mar 
If this hold 'twill be an ill world for Bawds, Chambermaids, and postboys, I thank God I have none but his letters patents, things of his own inditing.  Arb 
Prince this cunning cannot do it.  Tig. 
What Sir, I reach you not.  Arb. 
It shall not serve your turn Prince.  Tig. 
Serve my turn Sir.  Arb 
I Sir it shall not serve your turn.  Tig. 
Be plainer good Sir.  Arb. 
This woman shall carry no more letters back to your love Panthaea, by heaven she shall not, I sa she shall not.  Mardo. 
This would make a Saint swear like a Soldier, and a Soldier like termagant.  Tig. 
This beats me more King than the blows you gave me.  Arb. 
Take 'em away both, and together let 'em be prisoners, strictly and closely kept, or Sirrah your life shall answer it; and let nobody speak with 'em hereafter.  Bac. 
Well I am subject to you, and must endure these passions.  Spa. 
This is the imprisonment I have looked for always, and the dear place I would choose.  Ex. Bacu. with Tig. and Spa. Mar. 
Sir, have you done well now?  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 saddler's wife, and that I'll burn Sir:  
'tis like to prove a fine age for the Ignorant.  Arb. 
How darest thou so often forfeit thy life,  
Thou knowest 'tis in my power to take it.  Mar. 
Yes, and I know you wonot, or if you do, you'll miss it quickly.  Arb. 
Why?  Mar. 
Who shall then tell you of these childish follies  
When I am dead? Who shall put to his power  
To draw those virtues out of a flood of humours  
Where they are drowned, and make 'em shine again?  
No cut my head off: do, kill me:  
Than you may talk, and be believed, and grow,  
And have your too self-glorious temper rot  
Into a dead sleep, and the kingdom with you,  
Like foreign swords be in your throats, and slaughter  
Be everywhere about you like your flatterers.  
Do, kill me.  Arb. 
Prithee be tamer good Mardonius,  
Thou know'st I love thee, nay I honour thee:  
Believe it good old Soldier I am all thine:  
But I am racked clean from myself, bear with me,  
wilt thou bear with me good Mardonius.  Enter Gobrius. Mar. 
There comes a good man, love him too, he's temperate,  
You may live to have need of such a virtue,  
Rage is not still in fashion.  Arb. 
Welcome good Gobrius.  Gob. 
My service, and this letter to your grace.  Arb. 
From whom?  Go. 
From the rich mine of virtue, and all beauty,  
Your mournful Sister.  Arb. 
She is in prison Gobrius, is she not?  Gob. 
She is Sir till your pleasure do enlarge her,  
Which on my knees I beg; O 'tis not fit  
That all the sweetness of the world in one;  
The youth, and virtue, that would have wild Tigers  
And wilder people, that have known no manners  
Should live thus cloistered 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. 
Prithee stand up, 'tis true she is too Fair,  
And all these commendations but her own:  
Would thou hadst never so commended her,  
Or I near lived to have heard it, Gobrius;  
If thou but knew of the wrong her beauty does her,  
Thou wouldst in pity of her be a liar:  
Thy ignorance has drawn me wretched man  
Whether myself nor thou canst well tell, O my Fate,  
I think she loves me; but I fear another  
Is deeper in her heart: how thinkst thou Gobrius?  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 is it, I know not, begets more mischief than a wake. I had rather be we I beaten starved, or lousy, then live within the air on't. He that had seen this brave fellow charge through a grove of pikes but other day, and look upon him now, will near believe his eyes again; If he continue thus but two days more, a tailor may beat him with one hand tied behind him.  Arb. 
Alas she would be at liberty,  
And there be thousand reasons Gobrius  
That will deny it:  
Which if she knew, she would contentedly  
Be where she is and bless her virtue for it,  
And me though she were closer, She would Gobrius,  
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. Enter Bessus, and two Swordmen, and a Boy. Bess. 
You're very welcome both, some stools there 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 understood you wise, and valiant persons.  1. 
we understand ourselves Sir.  Bess. 
Nay Gentlemen, and my 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, be wise, and speak truth.  Bess. 
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 have beaten him, the case is clear.  2 
If he have beaten him I grant the case;  
But how? We cannot be too subtle 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 case on't,  
The rest were but an honourable rudeness.  1. 
Two blows o'th' face, and given by a worse man, I must confess as we Swordmen say, had turned the business: Mark me brother, by a worse man; but being by his Prince, had they been ten, and those ten drawn ten teeth, beside the hazard of his nose for ever; all these had been but favours: This is my flat opinion, which I'll die in.  2. 
The King may do much Captain believe it, for had he cracked your skull through like a bottle, or broke a rib or two with crossing 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 gentleman;  
But how far may he strike me?  1. 
There's 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 mile a day, I take it.  2. 
Brother you err, 'tis fifteen mile a day,  
His stage is ten, his beatings are fifteen.  Bes. 
'tis o' the longest, but we subjects must  
Be subject to it: you are wise, and virtuous.  1. 
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 all to us Sir, if we may  
Profit your understanding; we are bound  
By virtue of our calling, to utter our opinions  
Shortly, and discreetly.  Bes. 
My sorest business is, I have been kicked.  2. 
How far Sir?  Bess. 
Not to flatter myself in it all over, my sword forced, but not lost; for discreetly I rendered it to save that imputation.  1. 
It showed discretion the best part of valour.  2. 
Brother, this is a pretty case, pray ponder on't,  
Our friend here has been kicked.  1. 
He has so brother.  2. 
Sorely he says: Now had he sit down here  
Upon the mere kick, it had been cowardly.  1. 
I think it had been cowardly indeed.  2. 
But our friend has redeemed 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 kicked him after the delivery,  
Which is the confirmation of a coward.  1. 
Brother, I take it you mistake the question:  
For say that I were kicked.  2. 
I must not say so;  
Nor I must not hear it spoke byth' tongue of man  
You kicked dear brother; you are merry.  1. 
But put the case I were kicked?  2. 
Lot them put it that are things weary of their lives, & know not honour: put case you were kicked?  1. 
I do not say I was kicked.  2. 
Nor no silly creature, that wears his head without a case, his soul in a skin-coat: you kicked dear brother.  Bess. 
Nay Gentlemen, let us do what we shall do  
Truly and honestly; good Sir toth' question.  1. 
Why then I say, suppose your boy kicked Captain?  2. 
The boy may be supposed, he's liable; but kick my brother?  1. 
A foolish forward zeal Sir in my friend;  
But to the boy, suppose the boy were kicked?  Bess. 
I do suppose it.  1: 
Has your boy a sword?  Bess. 
Surely no: I pray suppose a sword too.  1. 
I do suppose it: you grant your boy was kicked then.  2. 
By no means Captain, let it be supposed still; this word grant, makes not for us.  1. 
I say this must be granted.  2. 
This must be granted brother?  1. 
ay, this must be granted.  2. 
Still the must:  1. 
I say this must be granted.  2. 
Give me the must again, 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:  Bess. 
Nay, look you Gentlemen.  2. 
In a word I ha' done.  1. 
A tall man, but untemperate; 'tis great pity:  
Once more suppose the boy kicked.  2. 
Forward.  1. 
And being thoroughly kicked, laughs at the kick.  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?  Bess. 
It lies i'th' beating Sir,  
I found it four days since.  2. 
The error, and a sore one, as I take it;  
Lies in the thing kicking.  Bess. 
I understand that well, 'tis sore indeed Sir.  1. 
That is according to the man that did it.  2. 
There springs a new branch: whose was the fool?  Bess. 
Ah Lords.  1. 
The cause is mighty, but had it been two Lords,  
And both had kicked you, if you laughed, 'tis clear.  Bess. 
I did laugh,  
But how will that help me Gentlemen?  1. 
Yes, it shall help you, if you laughed aloud.  Bess. 
As loud as a kicked man could laugh, I laughed 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 kicked enough:  
For that brave sufferance you speak of brother,  
Consists not in a beating, and away,  
But in a cudgeled body, from eighteen  
To eight and thirty: in a head rebuked  
With pots of all Size, daggers, stools, and bedstaves,  
This shows a valiant man.  Bes. 
Then I am valiant, as valiant, as the proudest,  
For these are all familiar things to me:  
Familiar as my sleep, or want of money.  
All my whole body's but one bruise with beating,  
I think I have been cudgeled with all nations,  
And almost all Religions.  2. 
Embrace him brother, this man is valiant,  
I know it by myself he's valiant.  1. 
Captain thou art a valiant Gentleman  
To abide upon't, a very valiant man.  Bes. 
My equal friends o'th' sword, I must request your hands to this.  2. 
'tis fit it should be.  Bess. 
Boy get some wine, and pen and ink within:  
Am I clear Gentlemen?  1. 
Sir when 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 go along, and testify to the Lord Bacurius, whose foot has struck me, how you find my cause.  2 
We will, and tell that Lord he must be ruled,  
Or there be those abroad will rule his Lordship.  Exeunt: Enter Arbaces at one door, Gob. and Panthaa at another. Gob. 
Sir her's the Princess.  Arb. 
Leave us then alone.  
For the main cause of her imprisonment  
Must not be heard by any but herself:  
You are welcome Sister, and I would to God  
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.  Pan. 
Sir, does it please you, I should speak.  Arb. 
Please me,  
I more than all the art of Music can;  
Thy speech does please me, for it ever sounds  
As thou broughts joyful unexpected news:  
And yet it is not fit thou shouldst be heard,  
I prithee think so.  Pan. 
Be it so, I will.  
I am 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, then disquiet you,  
And wait till it be fit.  Arb. 
No, do not go,  
For I will hear thee with a serious thought:  
I have collected all that's man about me  
Together strongly, and I am resolved  
To hear thee largely, but I do beseech thee  
Do not come nearer to me, for there is  
Something in that that will undo us both.  Pan. 
Alas Sir, am I venom?  Arb. 
Yes to me.  
Though of thyself I think thee to be in  
As equal a degree of heat, or cold  
As Nature can make, yet as unsound men  
Convert the sweetest, and the nourishingst meats  
Into diseases, so shall I distempered,  
Do thee, I prithee 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 all I wish to know.  Arb. 
Why credit me  
Panthaea, credit me that am thy brother,  
Thy loving brother, that there is a cause  
Sufficient, vet unfit for thee to know,  
That might undo 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'll back unto my prison, yet methinks  
I might be kept in some place where you are:  
For in myself I find, I know not what  
To call it, but it is a great desire  
To see you often.  Arb. 
Fie, you come in a step, what doc you mean  
Dear Sister, do not so: Alas Panthaea,  
Where I am, would you be, why that's the cause  
You are imprisoned, that you may not be  
Where I am.  Pan. 
Then I must endure it Sir, God keep you.  Abr. 
Nay, you shall hear the cause in short Panthaea;  
And when thou hearst it, thou wilt blush for me,  
And hang thy head down like a Violet  
Full of the morning's dew: There is a way  
To gain thy freedom, 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 innocents,  
Rather than follow it; know I have lost  
The only difference betwixt man, and beast,  
My reason.  Pan. 
Heaven forbid.  Arb. 
Nay it is gone,  
And I am left as far without a bound,  
As the wild Ocean that obeys the winds;  
Each sudden passion throws me as it lifts,  
And overwhelms all that oppose my will:  
I have beheld thee with a lustful eye:  
My heart is set on wickedness, to act  
Such sins with thee, as I have been afraid  
To think off: If thou dar'st consent to this,  
(Which I beseech thee do not) thou mayst gain  
Thy liberty, and yield me a content:  
If not thy dwelling must be dark, and close  
Where I may never see thee; For God knows  
That laid this punishment upon my pride,  
Thy sight at some time will enforce my madness  
To make a start eye to thy ravishing:  
Now spit upon me, and call all reproaches  
Thou canst devise together; and at once  
Hurl '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 should rather choose  
To search out death, that else would search out me,  
And in a grave sleep with my innocence,  
Then welcome such a sin: It is my fate,  
To these cross accidents I was ordained,  
And must have patience; and but that my eyes  
Have more of woman in 'em then my heart,  
I would not weep: peace enter you again.  Arb. 
Farewell, and good Panthaea 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,  
Than I shall force thee, though thou wert a Virgin  
By vow to Heaven, and shall pull a heap  
Of strange, yet uninvented sins 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  
Embrace your lawful love sooner than health.  Arb. 
Couldst thou affect me then?  Pan. 
So perfectly  
That as it is, I near shall 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 step  
To our full happiness, but these mere sounds  
Brother and Sister.  Pan. 
There is nothing else  
But these alas will separate us more  
Than twenty worlds betwixt us.  Arb. 
I have lived  
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 them, but they are  
Not to be grasped: let 'em be men or beasts,  
And I will cut 'em from the earth, or towns,  
And I will raze 'em, and then blow 'em up:  
Let 'em be Seas, and I will drink them off,  
And yet have unquenched fire left in my breast:  
Let 'em be any thing but merely voice.  Pan. 
But 'tis not in the power of any Force  
Or policy to conquer them.  Arb. 
Panthaea,  
What shall we do? shall we stand firmly here, and gaze our eyes out?  Pan. 
Would I could do so;  
But I shall weep out mine.  Arb. 
Accursed man,  
Thou boughtest thy reason at too dear a rate;  
For thou hast all thy actions bounded in  
With curious rules, when every Beast is free:  
What is there that acknowledges a kindred  
But wretched Man? whoever saw the Bull  
Fearfully leave the Heifer that he liked,  
Because they had one Dam?  Pan. 
Sir, I disturb you,  
And myself too; 'twere better I were gone:  
I will not be so foolish as I was.  Arb. 
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's none at all:  
And tell me truly now, is there not one  
You love above me?  Pan. 
No by Heaven.  Arb. 
Yet you sent unto Tigranes' Sister.  Pan. 
True, but for another: for the truth—  Arb 
No more,  
I'll credit thee; I know thou canst not lie,  
Thou art all truth.  Pan. 
But is there nothing else  
That we may do, but only walk; methinks  
Brothers and sisters lawfully may kiss.  Arb. 
And so they may Panthaea, so will we,  
And kiss again too; we were 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 all these, hotter I fear than yours.  Arb. 
That is impossible, what should we do?  Pan. 
Fly Sir for God's sake.  Arb. 
So we must, away;  
Sin grows upon us more by this delay.  
Finis Actus Quarti.   

Actus Quinti Scaena Prima.  Enter Mardonius, and Ligones. Mar. 
SIR, the King has seen your Commission, and believes it, and freely by this warrant gives you leave to visit Prince Tigranes your noble Master.  Lig. 
I thank his Grace, and kiss his hands.  Mar. 
But is the main of all your business Ended in this?  Lig. 
I have another, but a worse; I am ashamed, it is a business.—  Mar. 
You serve a worthy person, and a stranger I am sure you are; you may employ me if you please, without your purse, such Office should ever be their own rewards.  Lig. 
I am bound to your nobleness.  Mar. 
I may have need of you, and then this courtesy,  
If it be any, is not ill bestowed:  
But may I civilly desire the rest?  
I shall not be a hurter, if no helper.  Lig. 
Sir, you shall know I have lost a foolish daughter,  
And with her all my patience; pilfered away,  
By a mean Captain of your Kings.  Mar. 
Stay there Sir:  
If he have reached the noble worth of Captain,  
He may well claim a worthy gentlewoman,  
Though she were yours, and noble.  Lig. 
I grant all that too: but this wretched fellow  
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 something lighter, and my grave  
A span yet from me.  Mar. 
I confess such fellows  
Be in all royal camps, and have, and must be  
To make the sin of coward more detested  
In the mean Soldier, that with such a foil  
Sets of much valour: By description  
I should now guess him to you. It was Bessus,  
I dare almost with confidence pronounce it.  Lig. 
'tis such a scurvy 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,  
You a valiant fellow for all this.  Lig. 
My daughter is a Whore,  
I feel it now too sensible; yet I will see her,  
Discharge myself of being Father to her,  
And then back to my Country, and there die;  
Farewell Captain.  Exit. Bes. 
Farewell Sir, farewell, commend me to the Gentlewoman I praia.  1. 
How now Captain, bear up man.  Bes. 
Gentlemen o'th' sword your hands once more, I have Been kicked again, but the foolish fellow is penitent,  
Has asked me mercy, and my honour's safe.  2 
We knew that, or the foolish fellow had better a kicked His Grandsire.  
Confirm, confirm I pray.  1. 
There be our hands again.  2. 
Now let him come, and say he was not sorry,  
And he sleeps for it.  Bes. 
Alas good ignorant old man, let him go,  
Let him go, these courses will undo him.  Exeunt. Enter Ligones, and Bacurius. Bac. 
My Lord your authority is good, and I am glad it is so, for my consent would never hinder you from seeing your own King. I am a Minister, but not a governor of this state; yonder is your King, I'll leave you.  Exit. Lig. 
There he is indeed,  Enter Tig. and Spaco. 
And with him my disloyal child.  Tig. 
I do perceive my fault so much, that yet  
methinks thou shouldst not have forgiven me.  Lig. 
Health to your Majesty.  Tig. 
What? good Ligones, welcome; what business brought thee hither?  Lig. 
Several Businesses.  
My public business will appear by this:  
I have a message to deliver, which  
If it please you so to authorize, is  
An embassage from the Armenian state;  
Unto Arbaces for your liberty:  
The offer's there set down, please you to read it.  Tig. 
There is no alteration happened  
Since I came thence?  Lig. 
None Sir, all is as it was.  Tig. 
And all our friends are well.  Lig. 
All very well.  Spa. 
Though I have done nothing but what was good,  
I dare not see my Father: It was fault  
Enough not to acquaint him with that good.  Lig. 
Madam I should have seen you.  Spa. 
O good Sir forgive me.  Lig. 
Forgive you, why I am no kin to you, am I?  Spa. 
Should it be measured by my mean deserts,  
Indeed you are not.  Lig. 
Thou couldst prate unhappily  
Ere thou couldst go, would thou couldst do as well.  
And how does your custom hold out here.  Spa. 
Sir.  Lig. 
Are you in private still, or how?  Spa. 
What do you mean?  Lig 
Do you take money? are you come to sell sin yet? perhaps I can help you to liberal Clients: or has not the King cast you off yet? O thou vild creature, whose best commendation is, that thou art a young Whore. I would thy Mother had lived to see this: or rather would I had died ere I had seen it: why didst not make me acquainted when thou were first resolved to be a Whore? I would have seen thy hot lust satisfied more privately. I would have kept a dancer, and a whole consort of Musicians in mine own house, only to fiddle thee.  Spa. 
Sir I was never whore.  Lig. 
If thou couldst not say so much for thyself thou shouldst be Carted.  Tig. 
Ligones I have read it, and like it,  
You shall deliver it.  Lig. 
Well Sir I will: but I have private business with you.  Tig. 
Speak, what be't?  Lig. 
How has my age deserved so ill of you,  
That you can pick no strumpets in the Land,  
But out of my breed.  Tig. 
Strumpets good Ligones?  Lig. 
Yes, and I wish to have you know, I scorn  
To get a Whore for any Prince alive,  
And yet scorn will not help methinks: My daughter  
Might have been spared, there were enough beside.  Tig. 
May I not prosper, but she's innocent  
As morning light for me, and I dare swear  
For all the world.  Lig. 
Why is she with you then?  
Can she wait on you better than your men,  
Has she a gift in plucking off your stockings,  
Can she make caudles well, or cut your Corns,  
Why do you keep her with you? For your Queen  
I know you do contemn her, so should I  
And every Subject else think much at it.  Tig. 
Let 'em think much, but 'tis more firm than earth  
Thou seest thy Queen there.  Lig. 
Then have I made a fair hand, I called her Whore,  
If I shall speak now as her Father, I cannot of use  
But greatly rejoice that she shall be a Queen: but if  
I should speak to you as a Statesman she were more fit  
To be your Whore.  Tig. 
Get you about your business to Arbaces,  
Now you talk idly.  Lig. 
Yes Sir, I will go.  
And shall she be a Queen, she had more wit  
Than her old Father when she ran away:  
Shall she be a Queen, now by my troth 'tis fine,  
He dance out of all measure at her wedding:  
Shall I not Sir?  Tigr. 
Yes marry shalt thou.  Lig. 
I'll make these withered Kexes bear my body  
Two hours together above ground.  Tigr. 
Nay, go, my business requires haste.  Lig. 
Good God preserve you, you are an excellent King.  Spa. 
Farewell good Father.  Lig. 
Farewell sweet virtuous Daughter;  
I never was so Joyful in my life,  
That I remember: shall she be a Queen?  
Now I perceive a man may weep for joy,  
I had thought they had lied that said so.  Exit. Tig. 
Come my dear love.  Spa. 
But you may see another  
May alter that again.  Tigr. 
Urge it no more;  
I have made up a new strong constancy,  
Not to be shook with eyes; I know I have  
The passions of a man, but if I meet  
With any subject that shall hold my eyes  
More firmly then is fit; I'll think of thee,  
And run away from it: let that suffice.  Exeunt. Enter Bacurius, and a servant. Bac. 
Three gentlemen without to speak with me?  Ser. 
Yes Sir. Bac. Let them come in.  Ser. 
They are entered Sir already.  Enter Bessus, and Swordmen. Bac. 
Now fellows, your business, are these the Gentlemen.  Bess. 
My Lord I have made bold to bring these Gentlemen my Friends o'th' sword along with me.  Bac. 
I am afraid you'll fight then.  Bes. 
My good Lord I will not, your Lordship is mistaken,  
Fear not Lord.  Bac. 
Sir I am sorry for't.  Bes. 
I can ask no more in honour, Gentlemen you hear my Lord is sorry:  Bac. 
Not that I have beaten you, but beaten one that will be beaten: one whose dull body will require lancing: As surfeits do the diet, spring and full. Stockfish? Now to your swordmen, what come they for good Captain  Bes. 
It seems your Lordship has forgot my name.  Bac. 
No nor your nature neither, though they are things fitter I confess for any thing, than my remembrance, or any honest man's, what shall these billets do, be piled up in my Woodyard?  Bes 
Your Lordship holds your mirth still, God continue it: but for these Gentlemen they come.  Bac. 
To swear you are a Coward, spare your Book, I do believe it.  Bes. 
Your Lordship still draws wide, they come to vouch under their valiant hands, I am no Coward.  Bac. 
That would be a show indeed worth seeing: sirrah be wise and take money for this motion, travel with it, and where the name of Bessus has been known, or a good Coward stirring, 'twill yield more than a tilting. This will prove more beneficial to you, if you be thrifty, than your Captainship, and more natural; Men of most valiant hands is this true?  2. 
It is so most renowned,  
'tis somewhat strange.  1. 
Lord, it is strange, yet true; we have examined from your Lordship's foot there to this man's head, the nature of the beatings; and we do find his honour is come off clean, and sufficient: This as our swords shall help us.  Bac. 
You are much bound to your bilbo-men, I am glad you are straight again Captain: 'twere good you would think some way to gratify them, they have undergone a labour for you Bessus, would have puzzled Hercules, with all his valour.  2. 
Your Lordship must understand we are no men o'th' Law, that take pay for our opinions: it is sufficient we have cleared our friend.  Bac. 
Yet here is something due, which I as touched in conscience will discharge Captain; I'll pay this rent for you.  Bess. 
Spare yourself my good Lord; my brave friends aim at nothing but the virtue.  Bac. 
That's but a cold discharge Sir for their pains.  2. 
O Lord, my good Lord.  Bac. 
Be not so modest, I will give you something.  Bes. 
They shall dine with your Lordship, that's sufficient.  Bac. 
Something in hand the while; ye rogues, ye apple-squires: do you come hither with your bottled valour, your windle froth, to limit out my beatings.  1. 
I do beseech your Lordship.  2. 
O good Lord.  Bac: 
'sfoot, what a many of beaten slaves are here? get me a cudgel sirrah, and a tough one.  2. 
More of your foot, I do beseech your Lordship.  Bac. 
You shall, you shall dog, and your fellow beagle.  1. 
A this side good my Lord.  Bac. 
Off with your swords, for if you hurt my foot, I'll have you flayed you rascals.  1. 
Mines off my Lord.  2. 
I beseech your Lordship stay a little, my strap's tied to my codpiece point: Now when you please.  Bac. 
Captain, these are your valiant friends, you long for a little too?  Bess. 
I am very well, I humbly thank your Lordship.  Bac. 
What's that in your pocket slave, my key you apparel? thy buttocks cannot be so hard, out with't quickly.  2. 
Here 'tis Sir, a small piece of Artillery, that a gentleman a dear friend of your Lordships sent me with to get it mended Sir; for if you mark, the nose is somewhat loose.  Bac. 
A friend of mine you rascal, I was never wearier of doing nothing, then kicking these two soot-bales.  Ser. 
Here's a good cudgel Sir.  Bac. 
It comes too late; I am weary, prithee do thou beat 'em.  2. 
My Lord this is foul play i'faith, to put a fresh man upon us; Men are but men.  Bac. 
That jest shall save your bones, up with your rotten regiment, and be gone; I had rather thrash, then be bound to kick these rascals, till they cried hold: Bessus you may put your hand to them now, and then you are quit. Farewell, as you like this, pray visit me again, 'twill keep me in good breath.  2. 
Has a devilish hard foot, I never felt the like.  1. 
Nor I, and yet I'm sure I ha' felt a hundred.  2. 
If he kick thus i'th' dog-days, he will be dry foundered: what cure now Captain, besides oil of bays?  Bess. 
Why well enough I warrant you, you can go.  2. 
Yes, God be thanked; but I feel a shrewd ache, sure he has sprung my huckle bone.  1. 
I ha' lost a haunch.  Bess. 
A little butter friend, a little butter: butter and parsley is a sovereign matter: probatum est.  2. 
Captain, we must request your hands now to our honours.  Bess. 
Yes marry shall ye, and then let all the world come, we are valiant to ourselves, and there's an end:  1. 
Nay, than we must be valiant; O my ribs.  2. 
O my small guts, a plague upon these sharp toed shoes, they are murderers.  Exeunt. Enter Arbaces with his Sword drawn. Arb. 
It is resolved, I bore it whilst I could,  
I can no more, Hell open all thy gates,  
And I will through them; if they be shut,  
I'll batter 'em, but I will find the place  
Where the most damned have dwelling; ere I end,  
Amongst them all they shall not have a sin,  
But I may call it mine: I must begin  
With murder of my friend, and so go on  
To an incestuous ravishing, and end  
My life and sins with a forbidden blow  
Upon myself.  Enter Mardonius. Mardo. 
What Tragedy is near?  
That hand was never wont to draw a Sword,  
But it cried dead to something:  Arb. Mar. 
have you bid Gobrius come?  Mar. 
How do you Sir?  Arb. 
well, is he coming?  Mar. 
why Sir are you thus?  
why does your hand proclaim a lawless war  
Against yourself?  Arb. 
Thou answerest me one question with another,  
Is Gobrius coming?  Mar. 
Sir he is.  Arb. 
'tis well.  Mar. 
I can forbear your questions then, be gone Sir, I have marked.  Arb. 
Mark less, it troubles you and me.  Mar. 
You are more variable than you were.  Arb. 
It may be so.  Mar. 
Today no Hermit could be humblier  
Than you were to us all.  Arb. 
And what of this?  Mar. 
And now you take new rage into your eyes,  
As you would look us all out of the Land.  Arb. 
I do confess it, will that satisfy,  
I prithee get thee gone.  Mar. 
Sir I will speak.  Arb. 
Will ye?  Mar. 
It is my duty,  
I fear you will kill yourself: I am a subject,  
And you shall do me wrong in't: 'tis my cause,  
And I may speak.  Arb. 
Thou art not trained in sin,  
It seems Mardonius: kill myself, by heaven  
I will not do it yet; and when I will,  
I'll tell thee then: I shall be such a creature,  
That thou wilt give me leave without a word.  
There is a method in man's wickedness,  
It grows up by degrees; I am not come  
So high as killing of myself, there are  
A hundred thousand sins twixt me and it,  
Which I must do, I shall come too't at last;  
But take my oath not now, be satisfied,  
And get thee hence.  Mar. 
I am sorry 'tis so ill.  Arb. 
Be sorry then,  
True sorrow is alone, grieve by thyself.  Mar. 
I pray you let me see your sword put up  
Before I go; I'll leave you then.  Arb. 
Why so?  
What folly is this in thee? is it not  
As apt to mischief as it was before?  
Can I not reach it thinkest thou? these are toys  
For children to be pleased with, and not men;  
Now I am safe you think: I would the book  
Of Fate were here, my sword is not so sure,  
But I should get it out, and mangle that  
That all the destinies should quite forget  
Their fixed decrees, and haste to make us new  
Far other Fortunes, mine could not be worse,  
Wilt thou now leave me?  Mar. 
God put into your bosom temperate thoughts,  
I'll leave you though I fear.  Exit. Arb. 
Go, thou art honest,  
Why should the hasty errors of my youth  
Be so unpardonable, to draw a sin  
Helpless upon me?  Enter Gobrius. Gob 
There is the King, now it is ripe.  Arb. 
Draw near thou guilty man,  
That art the author of the loathedst crime  
Five ages have brought forth, and hear me speak  
Curses incurable, and all the evils  
man's body or his spirit can receive  
Be with thee.  Gob. 
Why Sir do you curse me thus?  Arb. 
Why do I curse thee, if there be a man  
Subtle in curses, that exceeds the rest,  
His worst wish on thee. Thou hast broke my heart.  Gob. 
How Sir? Have I preserved you from a child,  
From all the arrows, malice or ambition  
Could shoot at you, and have I this for pay?  Arb. 
'tis true thou didst preserve me, and in that  
Wert crueler then hardened murderers  
Of Infants and their mothers; thou didst save me  
Only till thou hadst studied out a way  
How to destroy me cunningly thyself:  
This was a curious way of torturing.  Gob. 
What do you mean?  Arb. 
Thou know'st the evils thou hast done to me,  
Dost thou remember all those witching letters  
Thou sent'st unto me to Armenia,  
Filled with the praise of my beloved Sister,  
Where thou extol'st her beauty; what had I  
To do with that, what could her beauty be  
To me, and thou didst write how well she loved me,  
Dost thou remember this: so that I doted  
Something before I saw her.  Gob. 
This is true.  Arb. 
Is it, and I when I was returned thou know'st  
Thou didst pursue it, till thou woundst me into  
Such a strange, and unbelieved affection,  
As good men cannot think on.  Gob. 
This I grant, I think I was the cause.  Arb. 
Wert thou? Nay more, I think thou meantst it.  Gob. 
Sir I have a lie  
As I love God and honesty, I did:  
It was my meaning.  Arb. 
Be thine own sad judge,  
A further condemnation will not need:  
Prepare thyself to die.  Gob. 
Why Sir to die?  
Why wouldst thou live, was ever yet offendor  
So impudent, that had a thought of mercy  
After confession of a crime like this?  
Get out I cannot, where thou hurlest me in,  
But I can take revenge, that's all the sweetness  
Left for me.  Gob. 
Now is the time, hear me but speak.  Arb. 
No, yet I will be far more merciful  
Than thou wert to me; thou didst steal into me,  
And never gavest me warning: so much time  
As I give thee now, had prevented thee  
For ever. Notwithstanding all thy sins,  
If thou hast hope, that there is yet a prayer  
To save thee, turn, and speak it to yourself.  Gob. 
Sir, you shall know your sins before you do 'em If you kill me.  Arb. 
I will not stay then.  Gob. 
Know you kill your Father.  Arb. 
How?  Gob. 
You kill your Father.  Arb. 
My Father? though I know it for a lie  
Made out of fear to save thy stained life:  
The very reverence of the word comes cross me,  
And ties mine arm down.  Gob. 
I will tell you that shall heighten you again, I am thy  
Father, I charge thee hear me.  Arb. 
If it should be so,  
As 'tis most false, and that I should be sound  
A bastard issue, the despised fruit  
Of lawless lust, I should no more admire  
All my wild passions: but another truth  
Shall be wrung from thee: If I could come by  
The spirit of pain, it should be poured on thee,  
Till thou allowest thyself more full of lies  
Then he that teaches thee.  Enter Arane. Arane. 
Turn thee about,  
I come to speak to thee thou wicked man,  
Hear me thou Tyrant.  Arb. 
I will turn to thee,  
Hear me thou Strumpet: I have blotted out  
The name of mother, as thou hast thy shame.  Ara. 
My shame, thou hast less shame than any thing:  
Why dost thou keep my daughter in a prison?  
Why dost thou call her Sister, and do this?  Arb. 
Cease thou strange impudence, and answer quickly,  
If thou contemnest me, this will ask an answer,  
And have it.  Ara. 
Help me gentle Gobrius.  Arb. 
Guilt dare not help guilt, though they grow together  
In doing ill, yet at the punishment  
They sever, and each flies the noise of other,  
Think not of help, answer.  Ara. 
I will, to what?  Arb. 
To such a thing as if it be a truth,  
Think what a creature thou hast made thyself,  
That didst not shame to do, what I must blush  
Only to ask thee: tell me who I am,  
Whose son I am, without all circumstance;  
Be thou as hasty, as my Sword will be  
If thou refusest.  Ara. 
Why you are his son.  Arb. 
His son?  
Swear, swear, thou worse than woman damned.  Ara. 
By all that's good you are.  Arb. 
Then art thou all that ever was known bad. Now is  
The cause of all my strange misfortunes come to light:  
What reverence expects thou from a child  
To bring forth which thou hast offended Heaven,  
Thy husband and the Land: Adulterous witch  
I know now why thou wouldst have poisoned me,  
I was thy lust which thou wouldst have forgot:  
Thou wicked mother of my sins, and me,  
Show me the way to the inheritance  
I have by thee: which is a spacious world  
Of impious acts, that I may soon possess it:  
Plagues rot thee, as thou liv'st, and such diseases  
As use to pay lust, recompense thy deed.  Gob. 
You do not know why you curse thus.  Arb. 
Too well:  
You are a pair of Vipers, and behold  
The Serpent you have got; there is no beast  
But if he knew, it has a pedigree  
As brave as mine, for they have more descents,  
And I am every way as beastly got,  
As far without the compass of a law,  
As they.  Ara. 
You spend your rage, and words in vain,  
And rail upon a guess: hear us a little.  Arb. 
No I will never hear, but talk away  
My breath, and die.  Gob. 
Why but you are no Bastard.  Arb. 
how's that?  Ara. 
Nor child of mine.  Arb. 
Still you go on in wonders to me.  Gob. 
Pray be more patient, I may bring comfort to you.  Arb. 
I will kneel,  
And hear with the obedience of a child;  
Good Father speak, I do acknowledge you,  
So you bring comfort.  Gob. 
First know our last King your supposed Father  
Was old and feeble when he married her,  
And almost all the Land as she past hope  
Of issue from him.  Arb. 
Therefore she took leave  
To play the whore, because the King was old:  
Is this the comfort?  Arb. 
what will you find out  
To give me satisfaction, when you find  
How you have injured me: let fire consume me,  
If ever I were whore.  Gob. 
Forbear these starts,  
Or I will leave you wedded to despair,  
As you are now: if you can find a temper,  
My breath shall be a pleasant western wind,  
That cools, and blasts not.  Arb. 
Bring it out good Father,  
I'll lie, and listen here as reverently  
As to an Angel: If I breath too loud,  
Tell me; for I would be as still as night.  Gob. 
Our King I say was old, and this our Queen  
Desired to bring an heir; but yet her husband  
She thought was past it, and to be dishonest  
I think she would not; if she would have been,  
The truth is, she was watched so narrowly,  
And had so slender opportunity,  
She hardly could have been: But yet her cunning  
Found out this way; she feigned herself with child,  
And posts were sent in haste throughout the Land,  
And God was humbly thanked in every Church,  
That so had blessed the Queen, and prayers were made  
For her safe going, and delivery:  
She feigned now to grow bigger, and perceived  
This hope of issue made her feared, and brought  
A far more large respect from every man,  
And saw her power increase, and was resolved,  
Since she believed she could not have't indeed;  
At lest she would be thought to have a child.  Arb. 
Do I not hear it well; nay, I will make  
No noise at all; but pray you to the point,  
Quick as you can.  Gob 
Now when the time was full,  
She should be brought a-bed; I had a son  
Borne, which was you: This the Queen hearing of,  
Moved me to let her have you, and such reasons  
She showed me as she knew would tie  
My secrecy: she swore you should be King;  
And o be short, I did deliver you  
Unto her, and pretended you were dead;  
And in mine own house kept a Funeral,  
And had an empty coffin put in earth:  
That night the Queen feigned hastily to labour,  
And by a pair of women of her own.  
Which she had charmed, she made the world believe  
She was delivered of you: you grew up  
As the king's son, till you were six year old;  
Then did the King die, and did leave to me  
Protection of the Realm; and contrary  
To his own expectation, left this Queen  
Truly with child indeed of the fair Princess  
Panthaea: Than she could have torn her heir,  
And did alone to me yet durst not speak  
In public; for she knew she should be found  
A Traitor, and her talk would have been thought  
Madness or any thing rather than truth:  
This was the only cause why she did seek  
To poison you, and I to keep you safe:  
And this the reason why I sought to kindle  
Some spark of love in you to fair Panthaea,  
That she might get part of her right again.  Arb. 
And have you made an end now, is this all?  
If not, I will be still till I am aged,  
Till all my heirs are silver.  Gob 
This is all.  Arb. 
And is it true say you Madam?  Ara. 
Yes God knows it is most true.  Arb. 
Panthaea then is not my Sister. Gob No.  Arb. 
But can you prove this?  
If you will give consent: else who dare go about it.  Arb. 
Give consent?  
Why I will have them all that know it racked  
To get this from 'em: All that waits without  
Come in, whate'er you be come in, and be  
Partakers of my joy: O you are welcome.  Ent. Mar: Bessus, and others. 
Mardonius the best news, nay, draw no nearer  
They all shall hear it: I am found no King.  Mar. 
Is that so good news?  Arb. 
Yes, the happiest news that ere was heard.  Mar. 
Indeed 'twere well for you,  
If you might be a little less obeyed.  Arb. 
On, call the Queen.  Mar. 
Why she is there.  Arb. 
The Queen Mardonius, Panthaea is the Queen,  
And I am plain Arbaces, go some one,  
She is in gobrius' house; since I saw you  
There are a thousand things delivered to me  
You little dream of.  Mar. 
So it should seem: My Lord,  
What fury's this.  Gob. 
Believe me 'tis no fury,  
All that he says is truth.  Mar 
'tis very strange.  Arb 
Why do you keep your hats off Gentlemen,  
Is it to me? in good faith it must not be:  
I cannot now command you, but I pray you  
For the respect you bore me, when you took  
Me for your King, each man clap on his hat at my desire.  Mar. 
We will: but you are not found  
So mean a man, but that you may be covered  
As well as we, may you not?  Arb. 
O not here,  
You may but not I, for here is my Father in presence,  Mar. 
Where?  Arb. 
Why there O the whole story  
Would be a wilderness to lose thyself  
For ever; O pardon me dear Father,  
For all the idle, and unreverent words  
That I have spoke in idle moods to you:  
I am Arbaces, we all fellow subjects,  
Nor is the Queen Panthaa now my Sister.  Bes. 
Why if you remember fellow subject Arbaces, I told you once she was not your sister, I say she looked nothing like you.  Arb. 
I think you did good Captain Bessus.  Bes. 
Here will arise another question now amongst the Swordmen, whether I be to call him to account for beating me, now he's proved no King.  Enter Ligones. Ma. 
Sir, here's Ligones  
The Agent for the Armenian King.  Arb. 
Where is he, I know your business good Ligones,  Lig. 
We must have our King again, and will.  Arb. 
I knew that was your business, you shall have  
Your King again, and have him so again  
As never King was had. Go one of you  
And bid Bacurius bring Tigranes hither,  
And bring the Lady with him, that Panthaea  
The Queen Panthaa sent me word this morning  
Was brave Tigranes' mistress.  Lig. 
'tis Spaconia.  Arb. 
ay, ay, Spaconia.  Lig. 
She is my daughter.  Arb. 
she is so, I could now tell any thing  
I never heard; your King shall go so home  
As never man went.  Ma. 
Shall he go on's head?  Arb. 
He shall have Chariots easier than air  
That I will have invented; and near think  
He shall pay any ransom; and thyself  
That art the Messenger shall ride before him  
On a Horse cut out of an entire Diamond,  
That shall be made to go with golden wheels,  
I know not how yet.  Lig. 
Why I shall be made  
For ever, they belied this King with us  
And said he was unkind.  Arb 
And than thy daughter,  
She shall have some strange think, we'll have the kingdom  
Sold utterly, and put into a toy.  
Which she shall wear about her carelessly  
somewhere or other.  
See the virtuous Queen.  Enter Pan. 
Behold the humblest subject that you have  
Kneel here before you.  Pan. 
Why kneel you  
To me that am your vassal?  Arb. 
Grant me one request.  Pan. 
Alas, what can I grant you?  
What I can I will.  Arb. 
That you will please to marry me,  
If I can prove it lawful.  Pan. 
Is that all?  
More willingly, than I would draw this air.  Arb. 
I'll kiss this hand in earnest.  Mar. 
Sir, Tigranes is coming though he made it strange  
To see the Princess any more.  Arb. 
The Queen,  Enter Tig. and Spa. 
Thou meanest: O my Tigranes pardon me,  
Tread on my neck I freely offer it,  
And if thou be'st so given; take revenge,  
For I have injured thee.  Tig. 
No, I forgive,  
And rejoice more that you have found repentance,  
Than I my liberty.  Arb. 
mayst thou be happy  
In thy fair choice; for thou art temperate:  
You owe no ransom to the state, know that;  
I have a thousand joys to tell you of,  
which yet I dare not utter, till I pay  
My thanks to Heaven for 'em: will you go  
with me, and help; pray you do.  Tig. 
I will.  Arb. 
Take then your fair one with you, and your Queen  
Of goodness, and of us; O give me leave  
To take your arm in mine: Come every one  
That takes delight in goodness, help to sing  
Loud thanks for me, that I am proved no King.  
FINIS.