A King and no King by John Fletcher and Francis Beaumont - HTML preview

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_Arb_.

If there be any thing in which I may

Do good to any creature, here speak out; For I must leave you: and it troubles me, That my occasions for the good of you,

Are such as call me from you: else, my joy Would be to spend my days among you all.

You shew your loves in these large multitudes That come to meet me, I will pray for you, Heaven prosper you, that you may know old years, And live to see your childrens children sit At your boards with plenty: when there is A want of any thing, let it be known

To me, and I will be a Father to you:

God keep you all.

[_ Flourish. Exeunt Kings and their Train_.

_ All_.

God bless your Majesty, God bless your Majesty.

_1_.

Come, shall we go? all's done.

_ Wom_.

I for God sake, I have not made a fire yet.

_2_.

Away, away, al 's done.

_3_.

Content, farewel _Philip_.

_1 Cit_.

Away you halter-sack you.

_2_.

_Philip_ will not fight, he's afraid on's face.

_ Phil_.

I marry am I afraid of my face.

_3_.

Thou wouldst be _Philip_ if thou sawst it in a glass; it looks so like a Visour.

[_Exeunt _2_., _3_., and Woman_.

_1 Cit_.

You'l be hang'd sirra: Come _Philip_ walk before us homewards; did not his Majesty say he had brought us home Pease for al our money?

_2 Cit_.

Yes marry did he.

_1 Cit_.

They're the first I heard of this year by my troth, I longed for some of 'em: did he not say we should have some?

_2 Cit_.

Yes, and so we shal anon I warrant you have every one a peck brought home to our houses.

_Actus Tertius_.

_Enter_ Arbaces _and_ Gobrias.

_Arb_.

My Sister take it ill?

_Gob_.

Not very ill.

Something unkindly she does take it Sir to have Her Husband chosen to her hands.

_Arb_.

Why _Gobrias_ let her, I must have her know, my will and not her own must govern her: what will she marry with some slave at home?

_Gob_.

O she is far from any stubbornness, you much mistake her, and no doubt will like where you would have her, but when you behold her, you will be loth to part with such a jewel.

_Arb_.

To part with her? why _Gobrias_, art thou mad? she is my Sister.

_Gob_.

Sir, I know she is: but it were pity to make poor our Land, with such a beauty to enrich another.

_Arb_.

Pish will she have him?

_Gob_.

I do hope she will not, I think she will Sir.

_Arb_.

Were she my Father and my Mother too, and all the names for which we think folks friends, she should be forc't to have him when I know 'tis fit: I will not hear her say she's loth.

_Gob_.

Heaven bring my purpose luckily to pass, you know 'tis just, she will not need constraint she loves you so.

_Arb_.

How does she love me, speak?

_Gob_.

She loves you more than people love their health, that live by labour; more than I could love a man that died for me, if he could live again.

_Arb_.

She is not like her mother then.

_Gob_.

O no, when you were in _Armenia_,

I durst not let her know when you were hurt: For at the first on every little scratch, She kept her Chamber, wept, and could not eat, Till you were wel , and many times the news Was so long coming, that before we heard She was as near her death, as you your health.

_Arb_.

Alas poor soul, but yet she must be rul'd; I know not how I shall requite her well.

I long to see her, have you sent for her, To tell her I am ready?

_Gob_.

Sir I have.

_Enter_ 1 Gent, _and_ Tigranes.

_1 Gent_.

Sir, here is the _Armenian_ King.

_Arb_.

He's welcome.

_1 Gent_.

And the Queen-mother, and the Princess wait without.

_Arb_.

Good _Gobrias_ bring 'em in.

_Tigranes_, you will think you are arriv'd In a strange Land, where Mothers cast to poyson Their only Sons; think you you shall be safe?

_Tigr_.

Too safe I am Sir.

_Enter_ Gobrias, Arane, Panthea, Spaconia, Bacurius, Mardonius _and_ Bessus, _and two Gentlemen_.

_ Ara_.

As low as this I bow to you, and would

As low as is my grave, to shew a mind

Thankful for al your mercies.

_Arb_.

O stand up,

And let me kneel, the light will be asham'd To see observance done to me by you.

_ Ara_.

You are my King.

_Arb_.

You are my Mother, rise;

As far be all your faults from your own soul, As from my memory; then you shall be

As white as innocence her self.

_ Ara_.

I came

Only to shew my duty, and acknowledge

My sorrows for my sins; longer to stay

Were but to draw eyes more attentively

Upon my shame, that power that kept you safe From me, preserve you still.

_Arb_.

Your own desires shall be your guide.

[_Exit_ Arane.

_Pan_.

Now let me die, since I have seen my Lord the King Return in safetie, I have seen all good that life Can shew me; I have ne're another wish

For Heaven to grant, nor were it fit I should; For I am bound to spend my age to come, In giving thanks that this was granted me.

_Gob_.

Why does not your Majesty speak?

_Arb_.

To whom?

_Gob_.

To the Princess.

_Pan_.

Alas Sir, I am fearful, you do look

On me, as if I were some loathed thing

That you were finding out a way to shun.

_Gob_.

Sir, you should speak to her.

_Arb_.

Ha?

_Pan_.

I know I am unworthy, yet not ill arm'd, with which innocence here I will kneel, till I am one with earth, but I will gain some words and kindness from you.

_Tigr_.

Will you speak Sir?

_Arb_.

Speak, am I what I was?

What art thou that dost creep into my breast, And dar'st not see my face? shew forth thy self: I feel a pair of fiery wings displai'd

Hither, from hence; you shal not tarry there, Up, and be gone, if thou beest Love be gone: Or I will tear thee from my wounded breast, Pul thy lov'd Down away, and with thy Quill By this right arm drawn from thy wonted wing, Write to thy laughing Mother i'thy bloud, That you are powers bely'd, and all your darts Are to be blown away, by men resolv'd,

Like dust; I know thou fear'st my words, away.

_Tigr_.

O misery! why should he be so slow?

There can no falshood come of loving her; Though I have given my faith; she is a thing Both to be lov'd and serv'd beyond my faith: I would he would present me to her quickly.

_Pan_.

Will you not speak at all? are you so far From kind words? yet to save my modesty, That must talk till you answer, do not stand As you were dumb, say something, though it be Poyson'd with anger, that it may strike me dead.

_Mar_.

Have you no life at all? for man-hood sake Let her not kneel, and talk neglected thus; A tree would find a tongue to answer her, Did she but give it such a lov'd respect.

_Arb_.

You mean this Lady: lift her from the earth; why do you let her kneel so long? Alas, Madam, your beauty uses to command, and not to beg. What is your sute to me? it shal be granted, yet the time is short, and my affairs are great: but where's my Sister? I bade she should be brought.

_Mar_.

What, is he mad?

_Arb.

Gobrias,_ where is she?

_Gob_.

Sir.

_Arb_.

Where is she man?

_Gob._

Who, Sir?

_Arb_.

Who, hast thou forgot my Sister?

_Gob_.

Your Sister, Sir?

_Arb_.

Your Sister, Sir? some one that hath a wit, answer, where is she?

_Gob_.

Do you not see her there?

_Arb_.

Where?

_Gob_.

There.

_Arb_.

There, where?

_Mar_.

S'light, there, are you blind?

_Arb_.

Which do you mean, that little one?

_Gob_.

No Sir.

_Arb_.

No Sir? why, do you mock me? I can see

No other here, but that petitioning Lady.

_Gob_.

That's she.

_Arb_.

Away.

_Gob_.

Sir, it is she.

_Arb_.

'Tis false.

_Gob_.

Is it?

_Arb_.

As hel , by Heaven, as false as hel ,

My Sister: is she dead? if it be so,

Speak boldly to me; for I am a man,

And dare not quarrel with Divinity;

And do not think to cozen me with this: I see you al are mute and stand amaz'd, Fearful to answer me; it is too true,

A decreed instant cuts off ev'ry life,

For which to mourn, is to repine; she dy'd A Virgin, though more innocent than sheep, As clear as her own eyes, and blessedness Eternal waits upon her where she is:

I know she could not make a wish to change Her state for new, and you shal see me bear My crosses like a man; we al must die, And she hath taught us how.

_Gob_.

Do not mistake,

And vex your self for nothing; for her death Is a long life off, I hope: 'Tis she,

And if my speech deserve not faith, lay death Upon me, and my latest words shal force A credit from you.

_Arb_.

Which, good Gobrias? that Lady dost thou mean?

_Gob_.

That Lady Sir,

She is your Sister, and she is your Sister That loves you so, 'tis she for whom I weep, To see you use her thus.

_Arb_.

It cannot be.

_Tigr_.

Pish, this is tedious,

I cannot hold, I must present my self,

And yet the sight of my _Spaconia_

Touches me, as a sudden thunder-clap

Does one that is about to sin.

_Arb_.

Away,

No more of this; here I pronounce him Traytor, The direct plotter of my death, that names Or thinks her for my Sister, 'tis a lie, The most malicious of the world, invented To mad your King; he that will say so next, Let him draw out his sword and sheath it here, It is a sin ful y as pardonable:

She is no kin to me, nor shall she be;

If she were ever, I create her none:

And which of you can question this? My power Is like the Sea, that is to be obey'd,

And not disputed with: I have decreed her As far from having part of blood with me, As the nak'd _indians_; come and answer me, He that is boldest now; is that my Sister?

_Mar_.

O this is fine.

_Bes_.

No marry, she is not, an't please your Majesty, I never thought she was, she's nothing like you.

_Arb_.

No 'tis true, she is not.

_Mar_.

Thou shou'dst be hang'd.

_Pan_.

Sir, I will speak but once; by the same power You make my blood a stranger unto yours, You may command me dead, and so much love A stranger may importune, pray you do;

If this request appear too much to grant, Adopt me of some other Family,

By your unquestion'd word; else I shall live Like sinfull issues that are left in streets By their regardless Mothers, and no name Will be found for me.

_Arb_.

I will hear no more,

Why should there be such musick in a voyce, And sin for me to hear it? Al the world May take delight in this, and 'tis damnation For me to do so: You are fair and wise

And vertuous I think, and he is blest

That is so near you as my brother is;

But you are nought to me but a disease; Continual torment without hope of ease; Such an ungodly sickness I have got,

That he that undertakes my cure, must first O'rethrow Divinity, al moral Laws,

And leave mankind as unconfin'd as beasts, Al owing 'em to do all actions

As freely as they drink when they desire.

Let me not hear you speak again; yet see I shal but lang[u]ish for the want of that, The having which, would kill me: No man here Offer to speak for her; for I consider

As much as you can say; I will not toil My body and my mind too, rest thou there, Here's one within will labour for you both.

_Pan_.

I would I were past speaking.

_Gob_.

Fear not Madam,

The King will alter, 'tis some sudden rage, And you shal see it end some other way.

_Pan_.

Pray heaven it do.

_Tig_.

Though she to whom I swore, be here, I cannot Stifle my passion longer; if my father

Should rise again disquieted with this, And charge me to forbear, yet it would out.

Madam, a stranger, and a pris'ner begs

To be bid welcome.

_Pan_.

You are welcome, Sir,

I think, but if you be not, 'tis past me To make you so: for I am here a stranger, Greater than you; we know from whence you come, But I appear a lost thing, and by whom

Is yet uncertain, found here i'th' Court, And onely suffer'd to walk up and down, As one not worth the owning.

_Spa_.

O, I fear

_Tigranes_ will be caught, he looks, me-thinks, As he would change his eyes with her; some help There is above for me, I hope.

_Tigr_.

Why do you turn away, and weep so fast, And utter things that mis-become your looks, Can you want owning?

_Spa_.

O 'tis certain so.

_Tigr_.

Acknowledge your self mine.

_Arb_.

How now?

_Tigr_.

And then see if you want an owner.

_Arb_.

They are talking.

_Tigr_.

Nations shall owne you for their Queen.

_Arb_.

_Tigranes_, art not thou my prisoner?

_Tigr_.

I am.

_Arb_.

And who is this?

_Tigr_.

She is your Sister.

_Arb_.

She is so.

_Mar_.

Is she so again? that's well.

_Arb_.

And then how dare you offer to change words with her?

_Tigr_.

Dare do it! Why? you brought me hither Sir, To that intent.

_Arb_.

Perhaps I told you so,

If I had sworn it, had you so much fol y To credit it? The least word that she speaks Is worth a life; rule your disordered tongue, Or I will temper it.

_Spa_.

Blest be the breath.

_Tigr_.

Temper my tongue! such incivilities

As these, no barbarous people ever knew: You break the lawes of Nature, and of Nations, You talk to me as if I were a prisoner

For theft: my tongue be temper'd? I must speak If thunder check me, and I will.

_Arb_.

You will?

_Spa_.

Alas my fortune.

_Tigr_.

Do not fear his frown, dear Madam, hear me.

_Arb_.

Fear not my frown? but that 'twere base in me To fight with one I know I can o'recome, Again thou shouldst be conquer'd by me.

_Mar_.

He has one ransome with him already; me-thinks

'T were good to fight double, or quit.

_Arb_.

Away with him to prison: Now Sir, see

If my frown be regardless; Why delay you?

Seise him _Bacurius_, you shal know my word Sweeps like a wind, and all it grapples with, Are as the chaffe before it.

_Tigr_.

Touch me not.

_Arb_.

Help there.

_Tigr_.

Away.

_1 Gent_.

It is in vain to struggle.

_2 Gent_.

You must be forc'd.

_Bac_.

Sir, you must pardon us, we must obey.

_Arb_.

Why do you dally there? drag him away

By any thing.

_Bac_.

Come Sir.

_Tigr_.

Justice, thou ought'st to give me strength enough To shake al these off; This is tyrannie, _Arbaces_, sutler than the burning Bul s, Or that fam'd _Titans_ bed. Thou mightst as well Search i'th' deep of Winter through the snow For half starv'd people, to bring home with thee, To shew 'em fire, and send 'em back again, As use me thus.

_Arb_.

Let him be close, _Bacurius_.

[_Exeunt_ Tigr. _And_ Bac.

_Spa_.

I ne're rejoyc'd at any ill to him,

But this imprisonment: what shal become Of me forsaken?

_Gob_.

You will not let your Sister

Depart thus discontented from you, Sir?

_Arb_.

By no means _Gobrias_, I have done her wrong, And made my self believe much of my self, That is not in me: You did kneel to me, Whilest I stood stubborn and regardless by, And like a god incensed, gave no ear

To al your prayers: behold, I kneel to you, Shew a contempt as large as was my own, And I will suffer it, yet at the last forgive me.

_Pan_.

O you wrong me more in this,

Than in your rage you did: you mock me now.

_Arb_.

Never forgive me then, which is the worst Can happen to me.

_Pan_.

If you be in earnest,

Stand up and give me but a gentle look, And two kind words, and I shall be in heaven.

_Arb_.

Rise you then to hear; I acknowledge thee My hope, the only jewel of my life,

The best of Sisters, dearer than my breath, A happiness as high as I could think;

And when my actions cal thee otherwise, Perdition light upon me.

_Pan_.

This is better

Than if you had not frown'd, it comes to me, Like mercie at the block, and when I leave To serve you with my life, your curse be with me.

_Arb_.

Then thus I do salute thee, and again,

To make this knot the stronger, Paradise Is there: It may be you are yet in doubt, This third kiss blots it out, I wade in sin, And foolishly intice my self along;

Take her away, see her a prisoner

In her own chamber closely, _Gobrias_.

_Pan_.

Alas Sir, why?

_Arb_.

I must not stay the answer, doe it.

_Gob_.

Good Sir.

_Arb_.

No more, doe it I say.

_Mard_.

This is better and better.

_Pan_.

Yet hear me speak.

_Arb_.

I will not hear you speak,

Away with her, let no man think to speak For such a creature; for she is a witch, A prisoner, and a Traitor.

_Gob_.

Madam, this office grieves me.

_Pan_.

Nay, 'tis well the king is pleased with it.

_Arb_.

_Bessus_, go you along too with her; I will prove Al this that I have said, if I may live So long; but I am desperately sick,

For she has given me poison in a kiss;

She had't betwixt her lips, and with her eyes She witches people: go without a word.

[_Exeunt_ Gob. Pan. Bes. _And_ Spaconia.

Why should you that have made me stand in war Like fate it self, cutting what threds I pleas'd, Decree such an unworthy end of me,

And al my glories? What am I, alas,

That you oppose me? if my secret thoughts Have ever harbour'd swel ings against you, They could not hurt you, and it is in you To give me sorrow, that will render me

Apt to receive your mercy; rather so,

Let it be rather so, than punish me

With such unmanly sins: Incest is in me Dwelling already, and it must be holy

That pul s it thence, where art _Mardonius_?

_Mar_.

Here Sir.

_Arb_.

I pray thee bear me, if thou canst,

Am I not grown a strange weight?

_Mar_.

As you were.

_Arb_.

No heavier?

_Mar_.

No Sir.

_Arb_.

Why, my legs

Refuse to bear my body; O _Mardonius_,

Thou hast in field beheld me, when thou knowst I could have gone, though I could never run.

_Mar_.

And so I shal again.

_Arb_.

O no, 'tis past.

_Mar_.

Pray you go rest your self.

_Arb_.

Wilt thou hereafter when they talk of me, As thou shalt hear nothing but infamy,

Remember some of those things?

_Mar_.

Yes I will.

_Arb_.

I pray thee do: for thou shalt never see me so again.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter Bessus alone_.

_Bes_.

They talk of fame, I have gotten it in the wars; and will afford any man a reasonable penny-worth: some will say, they could be content to have it, but that it is to be atchiev'd with danger; but my opinion is otherwise: for if I might stand still in Cannon-proof, and have fame fall upon me, I would refuse it: my reputation came principally by thinking to run away, which no body knows but _Mardonius_, and I think he conceals it to anger me. Before I went to the warrs, I came to the Town a young fellow, without means or parts to deserve friends; and my empty guts perswaded me to lie, and abuse people for my meat, which I did, and they beat me: then would I fast two days, till my hunger cri'd out on me, rail still, then me-thought I had a monstrous stomach to abuse 'em again, and did it. I, this state I continu'd till they hung me up by th' heels, and beat me wi'

hasle sticks, as if they would have baked me, and have cousen'd some body wi'me for Venison: After this I rail'd, and eat quietly: for the whole Kingdom took notice of me for a baffl'd whipt fel ow, and what I said was remembred in mirth but never in anger, of which I was glad; I would it were at that pass again.

After this, heaven calls an Aunt of mine, that left two hundred pound in a cousins hand for me, who taking me to be a gal ant young spirit, raised a company for me with the money and sent me into _Armenia_ with 'em: Away I would have run from them, but that I could get no company, and alone I durst not run. I was never at battail but once, and there I was running, but _Mardonius_ cudgel'd me; yet I got loose at last, but was so fraid, that I saw no more than my shoulders doe, but fled with my whole company amongst my Enemies, and overthrew 'em: Now the report of my valour is come over before me, and they say I was a raw young fellow, but now I am improv'd, a Plague on their eloquence, 't will cost me many a beating; And _Mardonius_ might help this too, if he would; for now they think to get honour on me, and al the men I have abus'd cal me freshly worthily, as they call it by the way of challenge.

_Enter a Gent_.

_3 Gent_.

Good morrow, Captain _Bessus_.

_Bes_.

Good morrow Sir.

_3 Gent_.

I come to speak with you.

_Bes_.

You're very welcome.

_3 Gent_.

From one that holds himself wrong'd by you some three years since: your worth he says is fam'd, and he doth nothing doubt but you will do him right, as beseems a souldier.

_Bes_.

A pox on 'em, so they cry al .

_3 Gent_.

And a slight note I have about me for you, for the delivery of which you must excuse me; it is an office that friendship calls upon me to do, and no way offensive to you; since I desire but right on both sides.

_Bes_.

'Tis a chal enge Sir, is it not?

_3 Gent_.

'Tis an inviting to the field.

_Bes_.

An inviting? O Sir your Mercy, what a Complement he delivers it with? he might as agreeable to my nature present me poison with such a speech: um um um reputation, um um um cal you to account, um um um forc'd to this, um um um with my Sword, um um um like a Gentleman, um um um dear to me, um um um satisfaction: 'Tis very wel Sir, I do accept it, but he must await an answer this thirteen weeks.

_3 Gent_.

Why Sir, he would be glad to wipe off his stain as soon as he could.

_Bes_.

Sir upon my credit I am already ingag'd to two hundred, and twelve, al which must have their stains wip'd off, if that be the word, before him.

_3 Gent_.

Sir, if you be truly ingag'd but to one, he shal stay a competent time.

_Bes_.

Upon my faith Sir, to two hundred and twelve, and I have a spent body, too much bruis'd in battel, so that I cannot fight, I must be plain, above three combats a day: All the kindness I can shew him, is to set him resolvedly in my rowle, the two hundred and thirteenth man, which is something, for I tel you, I think there will be more after him, than before him, I think so; pray you commend me to him, and tel him this.

_3 Gent_.

I will Sir, good morrow to you.

[_Exit 3 Gent_.

_Bes_.

Good morrow good Sir. Certainly my safest way were to print my self a coward, with a discovery how I came by my credit, and clap it upon every post; I have received above thirty chal enges within this two hours, marry all but the first I put off with ingagement, and by good fortune, the first is no madder of fighting than I, so that that's referred, the place where it must be ended, is four days journey off, and our arbitratours are these: He has chosen a Gentleman in travel, and I have a special friend with a quartain ague, like to hold him this five years, for mine: and when his man comes home, we are to expect my friends health: If they would finde me challenges thus thick, as long as I liv'd, I would have no other living; I can make seven shillings a day o'th' paper to the Grocers: yet I learn nothing by all these but a little skill in comparing of stiles. I do finde 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 al end, my reputation is dear to me, and I must require satisfaction: Who's there? more paper I hope, no, 'tis my Lord _Bacurius_, I fear all is not wel betwixt us.

_Enter_ Bacurius.

_Bac_.

Now Captain _Bessus_, I come about a frivolous matter, caus'd by as idle a report: you know you were a coward.

_Bes_.

Very right.

_Bac_.

And wronged me.

_Bes_.

True my Lord.

_Bac_.

But now people will cal you valiant, desertlesly I think, yet for their satisfaction, I will have you fight with me.

_Bes_.

O my good Lord, my deep Engagements.

_Bac_.

Tel 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.

_Bes_.

My Lord, I seek not Quarrels, and this belongs not to me, I am not to maintain it.

_Bac_.

Who then pray?

_Bes_.

_Bessus_ the Coward wrong'd you.

_Bac_.

Right.

_Bes_.

And shall _Bessus_ the Valiant, maintain what _Bessus_ the Coward did?

_Bac_.

I pray thee leave these cheating tricks, I swear thou shalt fight with me, or thou shall be beaten extreamly, and kick'd.

_Bes_.

Since you provoke me thus far, my Lord, I will fight with you, and by my Sword it shal cost me twenty pound, but I will have my Leg well a week sooner purposely.

_Bac_.

Your Leg? Why, what ailes your Leg? i'le do a cure on you, stand up.

_Bes_.

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.

_Bes_.

My Lord, I take this as a punishment for the offence I did when I was a Coward.

_Bac_.

When thou wert? Confess thy self a Coward still, or by this light, I'le beat thee into Spunge.

_Bes_.

Why I am one.

_Bac_.

Are you so Sir? And why do you wear a Sword then?

Come unbuckle.

_Bes_.

My Lord.

_Bac_.

Unbuckle I say, and give it me, or as I live, thy head will ake extreamly.

_Bes_.

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 New-years-gift.

_Bac_.

I thank you very heartily, sweet Captain, farewel.

_Bes_.

One word more, I beseech your Lordship to render me my knife again.

_Bac_.

Marry by al means Captain; cherish your self with it, and eat hard, good Captain; we cannot tell whether we shall have any more such: Adue dear Captain.

[_Exit_ Bac.

_Bes_.

I will make better use of this, than of my Sword: A base spirit has this vantage of a brave one, it keeps alwayes at a stay, nothing brings it down, not beating. I remember I promis'd the King in a great Audience, that I would make my back-biters 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 I will out-swear him and al his fol owers, that this is al that's left uneaten of my sword.

[_Exit_ Bessus.

_Enter_ Mardonius.

_Mar_.

I'le move the King, he is most strangely alter'd; 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 fol owed me through twenty Rooms; and ever when I stay to wait 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.

_Enter_ Arbaces.

See, here he is. I do not use this, yet I know not how, I cannot chuse 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 i'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 lie

A thousand thoughts that cannot brook the light: How wilt thou vex 'em 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 do?

_Mar_.

Better than you I fear.

_Arb_.

I hope thou art; for to be plain with thee, Thou art in Hel else, secret scorching flames That far transcend earthly material fires Are crept into me, and there is no cure.

Is it not 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 will not shrink to do you service, I shal not esteem my life a weightier matter than indeed it is, I know it is subject to more chances than it has hours, and I were better lose it in my Kings cause, than with an ague, or a fall, or sleeping, to a Thief; as all these are probable enough: let me but know what I shal do for you.

_Arb_.

It will not out: were you with _Gobrias_, And bad 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 this before;

Besides I think this business might

Be utter'd more carelesly.

_Arb_.

Come thou shalt have it out, I do beseech thee By al the love thou hast profest to me, To see my Sister from me.

_Mar_.

Well, and what?

_Arb_.

That's all.

_Mar_.

That's strange, I shal say nothing to her?

_Arb_.

Not a word;

But if thou lovest me, find some subtil way To make her understand by signs.

_Mar_.

But what shal I make her understand?

_Arb_.

O _Mardonius_, for that I must be pardon'd.

_Mar_.

You may, but I can only see her then.

_Arb_.

'Tis true;

Bear her this Ring then, and

One more advice, thou shall speak to her: Tel her I do love My kindred al : wilt thou?

_Mar_.

Is there no more?

_Arb_.

O yes and her the best;

Better than any Brother loves his Sister: That's al .

_Mar_.

Methinks this need not have been delivered with such a caution; I'le do it.

_Arb_.

There is more yet,

Wilt thou be faith[f]ul to me?

_Mar_.

Sir, if I take upon me to deliver it, after I hear it, I'le pass through fire to do it.

_Arb_.

I love her better than a Brother ought; Dost thou conceive me?

_Mar_.

I hope you do not Sir.

_Arb_.

No, thou art dull, kneel down before her, And ne'r 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 too: 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 tel me thou wouldst do it?

_Mar_.

Yes; if I undertook it, but if all

My hairs were lives, I would not be engag'd In such a case to save my last life.

_Arb_.

O guilt! ha how poor and weak a thing art thou!

This man that is my servant, whom my breath Might blow upon the world, might beat me here Having this cause, whil'st I prest down with sin Could not resist him: hear _Mardonius_, It was a motion mis-beseeming man,

And I am sorry for it.

_Mar_.

Heaven grant 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 offender for any crime. For my self 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 shal lose 'em both together, than keep 'em with such conditions; I shal find a dwel ing amongst some people, where though our Garments perhaps be courser, we shal be richer far within, and harbour no such vices in 'em: the Gods preserve you, and mend.

_Arb_.

_Mardonius_, stay _Mardonius_, for though My present state requires nothing but knaves To be about me, such as are prepar'd

For every wicked act, yet who does know But that my loathed Fate may turn about, And I have use for honest men again?

I hope I may, I prethee leave me not.

_Enter_ Bessus.

_Bes_.

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'me no honest man, if my enemies have not brought it to this, what, do you think I lie?

_Arb_.

No, no, 'tis wel _Bessus_, 'tis very well I'm glad on't.

_Mar_.

If your enemies brought it to this, your enemies are Cutlers, come leave the King.

_Bes_.

Why, may not valour approach him?

_Mar_.

Yes, but he has affairs, depart, or I shall be something unmannerly with you.

_Arb_.

No, let him stay _Mardonius_, let him stay, I have occasion with him very weighty,

And I can spare you now.

_Mar_.

Sir?

_Arb_.

Why I can spare you now.

_Bes_.

_Mardonius_ give way to these State affairs.

_Mar_.

Indeed you are fitter for this present purpose.

[_Exit_ Mar.

_Arb_.

_Bessus_, I should imploy thee, wilt thou do't?

_Bes_.

Do't 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 shal name the 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 understandst me, in a wicked manner.

_Bes_.

O you would have a bout with her?

I'le do't, I'le do't, I'faith.

_Arb_.

Wilt thou, do'st thou make no more on't? Bes. More? no, why is there any thing else? if there be, it shall be done too.

_Arb_.

Hast thou no greater sense of such a sin?

Thou art too wicked for my company,

Though I have hel within me, thou may'st yet Corrupt me further: pray thee answer me, How do I shew to thee after this motion?

_Bes_.

Why your Majesty looks as wel in my opinion, as ever you did since you were born.

_Arb_.

But thou appear'st to me after thy grant, The ugliest, loathed detestable thing

That I ever met with. Thou hast eyes

Like the flames of _Sulphur_, which me thinks 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, Pie do my business as wel as they that look better, and when this is dispatch'd, if you have a mind to your Mother, tell me, and you shal see I'le set it hard.

_Arb_.

My Mother! Heaven forgive me to hear this, I am inspir'd with horrour: now I hate thee Worse than my sin, which if I could come by Should suffer death Eternal ne're to rise In any breast again. Know I will die

Languishing mad, as I resolve, I shal , E're I will deal by such an instrument: Thou art too sinful to imploy in this;

Out of the World, away.

_Bes_.

What do you mean, Sir?

_Arb_.

Hung round with Curses, take thy fearful flight Into the Desarts, where 'mongst al the Monsters If thou find'st one so beastly as thy self, Thou shalt be held as innocent.

_Bes_.

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 God and man, And natures too, and does it without lust, Meerly 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'le press it here, till it do break my breast, It heaves to get out, but thou art a sin, And spight of torture I will keep thee in.

_ACTUS QUARTUS_.

_Enter_ Gobrias, Panthea, _and_ 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 feel 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 shal gain much upon his goodness, _Gobrias_.

Yet fearing they are many, and a womans, A poor belief may fol ow, 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, though he should not Give you your present end in this, believe it, You shall feel, if your vertue can induce you To labour on't, this tempest which I know, Is but a poor proof 'gainst your patience: Al those contents, your spirit will arrive at, Newer and sweeter to you; your Royal brother, When he shal once col ect himself, and see How far he has been asunder from himself; What a meer stranger to his golden temper: Must from those roots of vertue, never dying, Though somewhat stopt with humour, shoot again Into a thousand glories, bearing his fair branches High as our hopes can look at, straight as justice, Loaden with ripe contents; he loves you dearly, I know it, and I hope I need not farther Win you to understand it.

_Pan_.

I believe it.

But howsoever, I am sure I love him dearly: So dearly, that if any thing I write

For my enlarging should beget his anger, Heaven be a witness with me and my faith, I had rather live intomb'd here.

_Gob_.

You shal 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.

_ Pan._

Peace go with you, you are a good man.

[_Exit_ Gob.

My _Spaconia_, why are you ever sad thus?

_Spa_.

O dear Lady.

_Pan_.

Prethee discover not a way to sadness,

Nearer than I have in me, our two sorrows Work like two eager Hawks, who shall get highest; How shall I lessen thine? for mine I fear Is easier known than cur'd.

_Spa_.

Heaven comfort both,

And give you happy ends, however I

Fal in my stubborn fortunes.

_Pan_.

This but teaches

How to be more familiar with our sorrows, That are too much our masters: good _Spaconia_

How shall I do you service?

_Spa_.

Noblest Lady,

You make me more a slave still to your goodness, And only live to purchase thanks to pay you, For that is all the business of my life: now I will be bold, since you will have it so, To ask a noble favour of you.

_Pan_.

Speak it, 'tis yours, for from so sweet a vertue, No ill demand has issue.

_Spa_.

Then ever vertuous, let me beg your will In helping me to see the Prince _Tigranes_, With whom I am equal prisoner, if not more.

_Pan_.

Reserve me to a greater end _Spaconia_; _Bacurius_ cannot want so much good manners As to deny your gentle visitation,

Though you came only with your own command.

_Spa_.

I know they will deny me gracious Madam, Being a stranger, and so little fam'd,

So utter empty of those excel encies

That tame Authority; but in you sweet Lady, Al these are natural; beside, a power

Deriv'd immediate from your Royal brother, Whose least word in you may command the Kingdom.

_Pan_.

More than my word _Spaconia_, you shal carry, For fear it fail you.

_Spa_.

Dare you trust a Token?

Madam I fear I am grown too bold a begger.

_Pan_.

You are a pretty one, and trust me Lady It joyes me, I shal do a good to you,

Though to my self I never shal be happy: Here, take this Ring, and from me as a Token Deliver it; I think they will not stay you: So al your own desires go with you Lady.

_Spa_.

And sweet peace to your Grace.

_Pan_.

Pray Heaven I find it.

[_Exeunt_.

_Enter_ Tigranes, _in prison_.

_Tigr_.

Fool that I am, I have undone my self,

And with my own hand turn'd my fortune round, That was a fair one: I have childishly

Plaid with my hope so long, till I have broke it, And now too late I mourn for't; O _Spaconia_!

Thou hast found an even way to thy revenge now, Why didst thou fol ow me like a faint shadow, To wither my desires? But wretched fool, Why did I plant thee 'twixt the Sun and me, To make me freeze thus? Why did I prefer her To the fair Princess? O thou fool, thou fool, Thou family of fools, live like a slave still, And in thee bear thine own hell and thy torment, Thou hast deserv'd: Couldst thou find no Lady But she that has thy hopes to put her to, And hazard al thy peace? None to abuse, But she that lov'd thee ever? poor _Spaconia_, And so much lov'd thee, that in honesty And honour thou art bound to meet her vertues: She that forgot the greatness of her grief And miseries, that must follow such mad passions, Endless and wild as women; she that for thee And with thee left her liberty, her name, And Country, you have paid me equal, Heavens, And sent my own rod to correct me with; A woman: for inconstancy I'le suffer,

Lay it on justice, till my soul melt in me For my unmanly, beastly, sudden doting

Upon a new face: after al my oaths

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.

_Enter_ Bacurius _And_ Spaconia.

_Bac_.

Lady, your token I acknowledge, you may pass; There is the King.

_Spa_.

I thank your Lordship for it.

[_Exit_ Bac.

_Tigr_.

She comes, she comes, shame hide me ever from her, Would I were buried, or so far remov'd

Light might not find me out, I dare not see her.

_Spa_.

Nay never hide your self; or were you hid Where earth hides all her riches, near her Center; My wrongs without more day would light me to you: I must speak e're I die; were all your greatness Doubled upon you, y'are a perjur'd man, And only mighty in your 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 tel thee thou art more unconstant, Than al ill women ever were together.

Thy faith is firm as raging over-flowes, That no bank can command; as lasting

As boyes gay bubbles, blown i'th' Air and broken: The wind is fixt to thee: and sooner shal The beaten Mariner with his shrill whistle Calm the loud murmur of the troubled main, And strike it smooth again; than thy soul fal To have peace in love with any: Thou art al 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 wrong, burn thy black Legend, And with their curses, shake thy sleeping ashes.

_Tigr_.

Oh! oh!

_Spa_.

The destinies, I hope, have pointed out Our ends, that thou maist die for love, Though not for me; for this assure thy self, The Princess hates thee deadly, and will sooner Be won to marry with a Bul , and safer

Than such a beast as thou art: I have struck, I fear, too deep; beshrow me for't; Sir, This sorrow works me like a cunning friendship, Into the same piece with it; 'tis asham'd, 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 pleas'd 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.

_Tigr_.

O my _Spaconia_! O thou vertuous woman!

_Spa_.

Nay, more, the King Sir.

_Enter_ Arbaces, Bacurius, 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.

_Tigr_.

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 equall With your own person: your imprisonment, If it be any, I dare say is easie,

And shall not last t[w]o dayes.

_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 unlook'd for; But I must bear it.

_Arb_.

What Lady's that? _Bacurius_?

_Bac_.

One of the Princess women, Sir.

_Arb_.

I fear'd it, why comes she hither?

_Bac_.

To speak with the Prince _Tigranes_.

_Arb_.

From whom, _Bacurius_?

_Bac_.

From the Princess, Sir.

_Arb_.

I knew I had seen her.

_Mar_.

His fit begins to take him now again,

'Tis a strange Feaver, and 'twill shake us al anon, I fear, Would he were well cur'd of this raging fol y: Give me the warrs, where men are mad, and may talk what they list, and held the bravest fellows; This pelting prating peace is good for nothing: drinking's a vertue to't.

_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 barr none from him, Besides, the Princess sent her ring Sir, for my warrant.

_Arb_.

A token to _Tigranes_, did she not?

Sir 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 wel beaten, he had been temperate; I shal never see him handsome again, till he have a Horse-mans staffe yok'd thorow his shoulders, or an arm broken with a bul et.

_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 tel me, though my better--

_Mar_.

'Tis well said, by my soul.

_Arb_.

Sirra, 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 what yo[u] please, Sir,

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 tel 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 Bawdes, Chamber-maids and Post-boyes, I thank heaven I have none I but his letters patents, things of his own enditing.

_Arb_.

Prince, this cunning cannot do't.

_Tigr_.

Doe, What Sir? I reach you not.

_Arb_.

It shal not serve your turn, Prince.

_Tigr_.

Serve my turn Sir?

_Arb_.

I Sir, it shall not serve your turn.

_Tigr_.

Be plainer, good Sir.

_Arb_.

This woman shall carry no more letters back to your Love _Panthea_, by Heaven she shal not, I say she shal not.

_Mar_.

This would make a Saint swear like a souldier.

_Tigr_.

This beats me more, King, than the blowes you gave me.

_Arb_.

Take'em away both, and together let them prisoners be, strictly and closely kept, or Sirra, your life shall answer it, and let no body speak with'em hereafter.

_Tigr_.

Well, I am subject to you,

And must indure these passions:

This is the imprisonment I have look'd for always.

And the dearer place I would choose.

[_Exeunt_ Tigr. Spa. Bac.

_Mar_.

Sir, you have done wel now.