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 have 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 taste,
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 sever'd, 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' [Aside. Tigr. Do I refuse her, that I doubt her worth?

Were she as virtuous as she would be thought;
So perfect, that no one of her own sex
Could find a want she had; so tempting fair,
That she could wish it off, for damning souls;
I would pay any ransom, twenty lives,
Rather than meet her married in my bed.
Perhaps, I have a love, where I have fix'd'
Mine eyes, not to be mov'd, 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 try'd,
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 pow'r to stand
The force of her swift looks. If you dislike,
I'll send you home with love, and name your

ransom

Some other way; but if she be your choice, She frees you. To Iberia you must.

Tigr. Sir, I have learn'd a prisoner's sufferance, And will obey: But give me leave to talk In private with some friends before I go.

Arb. Some do 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,
[Erit TIGRANES.
'Till he be free from me. This prince, Mar-
donius,

Is full of wisdom, valour, all the graces
Man can receive.

Mar. And yet you conquer'd him.

Arb. And yet I conquer'd him; and could have done't,

Hadst thou join'd with him, though thy name in

Vouchsafe to give me answer? Am I grown To such a poor respect? or do you mean

Mov'd you like wheels; it mov'd you as it pleas'd.
Whither slip you now? What, are you too good
To wait on me? (Puffe.) I had need have tem-
per,

That rule such people: I have nothing left
At my own choice! I would I might be private:

you,

Or else, by Heav'n

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. mean not you;

Did not I stop you once? But I am grown
To talk! But I defy-
-Let another speak,
2 Gent. I hope your majesty-
Arb. Thou drawl'st 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 please your majesty

Arb. Wilt thou devour me? This is such a rudeness

As yet you never shew'd me: And I want
Pow'r to command too; else, Mardonius
Would speak at my request. Were you my king,
I would have answer'd at your word, Mardonius.
I pray you speak, and truly, 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, prop'd by divinity:
Was not that bragging, and a wrong to us
That daily ventur'd lives?

Arb. Oh, that thy name

To have a tumult, that, out of their loves,
Will wait on us, whether we will or no.

Go, get you gone! Why, here they stand like death:

My words move nothing.

1 Gent. Must we go?

Bes. I know not.

Arb. I pray you, leave me, sirs. I'm proud of this, [Exeunt all but ARB. and MAR.

That you will be intreated 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 intreat 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 lov'd 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 done it, because I would have lov'd the most deserving man; for so you

are.

Drive thee about the world, 'till I had met

Some place that yet man's curiosity

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

Arb. Eclipse my virtues ?

Mar, Yes; your passions; which are so manifold, that they appear even in this: When I commend you, you hug me for that tr; but when I speak your faults, you make a start, and fly the hearing: But

Arb. When you commend me? Oh, that I should live

To need such commendations! If my deeds Blew not my praise themselves about 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 thought'st 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 lyes; For, shouldst thou praise me into Heav'n, and there

Leave me inthron'd, I would despise thee then As much as now, which is as much as dust, Because I see thy envy. FNVY

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 it, then you will shine indeed. Arb. Well.

Mar. Yet I would have you keep some passions, lest 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, and free from these moods, should I chuse a companion for wit and pleasure, it should be you; or for honesty to interchange my bosom with, it should be you; or wisdom to give me counsel, I would pick out you; or valour to defend my reputation, still I should find you out; 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.

Thou and I

Arb. Faith, but it is: 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. Have not been merry lately: Prithee tell me, Where hadst thou that same jewel in thine ear? 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. I' 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. Ay, 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 them up at my price.

Enter two Gentlemen and Bessus.

Mar. Your price?

Arb. Ay, at the king's price.

Mar. That may be more than I'm worth. 2 Gent. Is he not merry now?

1 Gent. I think not.

Bes. He is, he is: We'll shew ourselves.

Arb. Bessus! I thought you had been in Iberia by this; I bade you haste; Gobrias will want entertainment for me.

Bes. An please your majesty, I have a suit.
Arb. Is't not lousy, Bessus? What is't?
Bes. I am to carry a lady with me.
Arb. Then thou hast two suits.

Bes. And if I can prefer her to the lady Panthea, your majesty's 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't not?

Bes. I know not that, sir; but gold I shall be sure of.

Arb, Why, thou shalt bid her entertain her from me, so thou wilt resolve me one thing. Bes. If I can.

Arb. Faith, 'tis a very disputable question; and yet, I think, thou canst decide it.

Bes. Your majesty has a good opinion of my understanding.

Arb. I have so good an opinion of it: 'Tis, whether thou be valiant.

Bes. Somebody has traduced me to you: Do you see this sword, sir?

Arb. Yes.

Bes. If I do not make my back-biters eat it to a knife within this week, say I am not valiant. Enter a Messenger.

Mes. Health to your majesty!
Arb. From Gobrias?

Mes. Yes, sir.

Arb. How does he? is he well?
Mes. In perfect health.

Arb. Take that for thy good news.
A trustier servant to his prince there lives not,
Than 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 alters strangely.

A child-like innocence within my breast!
Which, once perform'd, oh, give me leave to
stand

As fix'd as constancy herself; my eyes
Set here unmov'd, 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 labour'd, since my father died,
To take by treason hence this loathed life,
That would but be to serve her. I have par-
don'd,

And pardon'd, and by that have made her fit
To practise new sins, not repent the old.
She now had hir'd a slave to come from thence,
And strike me here; whom Gobrias, sifting out,
Took, and condemn'd, and executed there.
The careful'st servant! Heav'n, let me but live
Το pay that man! Nature is poor to me,
That will not let me have as many deaths
As are the times that he hath sav❜d 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 loaden, 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 that sacred dew she mingles pray'rs,
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, further, if I have not every night
Expostulated with my wand'ring thoughts,
If aught unto my parent they have err'd,
And call'd '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 pow'r to compass me, and hold me safe
From searching treason; I will use no means
But prayer: For, rather suffer me to see
From mine own veins issue a deadly flood,
Than wash my danger off with mother's blood.
Mar. I never saw such sudden extremities.
[Exeunt.

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,

Some friend, that ever lov'd 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 plac'd their loves unfortunately high,
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

Distemper'd 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 conquer'd me?

Spa. That conquer'd thee,
Tigranes! He has won but half of thee,
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. Oh, 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 unto a captain,
That goes unto iberia from the king,
That he will place a lady of our land
With the king's sister that is offer'd 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 pull'd 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 lye!
Tigr. Yet, do thy best.

Enter 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 feel no want of that.

Bes. Lady, you must haste; I have receiv'd new letters from the king, that require more haste 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. [Exeunt.

Enter GOBRIAS, BACURIUS, Arane, Panthea, and MANDANE, waiting-woman, with atten

dants.

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

With patience, and a time would come for me To reconcile all to your own content:

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 weigh'd 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 urg'd
Against my mother! A more troubled thought
No virgin bears about! Should I excuse
My mother's fault, I should set light a life,
In losing which a brother and a king
Were taken from me: If I seek to save
That life so lov'd, 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 Heav'n 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 mother.

Gob. I know it is not.

Ara. Yet you make it so.

Gob. Why, is not all that's past beyond your help?

And what was done, unknown, was not by me, But you; your urging. Being done,

I must preserve my own; but time may bring All this to light, and happily for all.

Ara. Accursed be this over-curious brain, That gave that plot a birth! Accurs'd this wom That after did conceive, to my disgrace!

divers letters come from Armenia, that Bessus Bac. My lord-protector, they say, there are has done good service, and brought again a day by his particular valour: Receiv'd you any to that effect?

Gob. Yes; 'tis most certain.

Buc. 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 laugh'd, and so did all the world; for not I, nor any other, held him worth my sword.

Enter BESSUS and SPACONIA.

Bes. Health to my lord-protector! From the king these letters; and to your grace, madam, these. Gob. 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 do'st: Is he well?