Gob.
Yet I wonder muchAt this he writes, he brings along with himA husband for you, that same Captive Prince,And if he loves you as he makes a shew,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 bargain'd with before I choose him.
Pan.
But I am not built on such wild humours, if I find him worthy, he is not less because he's offer'd.
Spa.
'Tis true, he is not, would he would seem less.
Gob.
I think there's no Lady can affectAnother Prince, your brother standing by;He doth Eclipse mens vertues so with his.
Spa.
I know a Lady may, and more I fearAnother 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.
Pan.
I thank you good my Lord.
Gob.
You will be ready Madam.
[Exit Gob.
Pan.
Yes.
Spa.
I do beseech you Madam, send awayYour other women, and receive from meA few sad words, which set against your joyesMay make 'em shine the more.
Pan.
Sirs, leave me all.
[Exeunt Women.
Spa.
I kneel a stranger here to beg a thingUnfit for me to ask, and you to grant,'Tis such another strange ill-laid request,As if a begger should intreat a KingTo leave his Scepter, and his Throne to himAnd take his rags to wander o're the worldHungry 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 mustBe utter'd, I, and granted, or I die:I am asham'd to speak it; but where lifeLies 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, e're they give me ought; 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 boundsOf reason yet: for 'tis not in the powerOf you to do, what I would have you grant.
Pan.
Why then 'tis idle, pray thee 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 maidThat looks upon him, gives away her selfTo him for ever; and for you to haveHe brings him: and so mad is my demandThat 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 expectYou should laugh at me.
Pan.
Trust me I could weep rather, for I have found himIn all thy words a strange disjoynted sorrow.
Spa.
'Tis by me his own desire so, that you would not love him.
Pan.
His own desire! why credit meThalestris,I am no common wooer: if he shall wooe me, his worth may be such, that I dare not swear I will not love him; but if he will stay to have me wooe 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 these 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 will 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 sinTo love him without passion: Dry your eyes,I swear you shall enjoy him still for me,I will not hinder you; but I perceiveYou are not what you seem, rise, riseThalestris,If your right name be so.
Spa.
Indeed it is not,Spaconiais my name; but I desire not to be known to other.
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.
[Exeunt.
Enter three Men and a Woman.
1.
Come, come, run, run, run.
2.
We shall out-go her.
3.
One were better be hang'd than carry out women fidling to these shews.
Wom.
Is the King hard by?
1.
You heard he with the Bottles said, he thought we should come too late: What abundance of people here is!
Wom.
But what had he in those Bottles?
3.
I know not.
2.
Why, Ink goodman fool.
3.
Ink, what to do?
1.
Why the King look you, will many times call for theseBottles, and break his mind to his friends.
Wom.
Let's take our places, we shall have no room else.
2.
The man told us he would walk o' foot through the people.
3.
I marry did he.
1.
Our shops are well look't to now.
2.
'Slife, yonder's my Master, I think.
1.
No 'tis not he.
Enter a man with two Citizens-wives.
1 Cit.
Lord how fine the fields be, what sweet living 'tis in theCountry!
2 Cit.
I poor souls, God help 'em; they live as contentedly as one of us.
1 Cit.
My husbands Cousin would have had me gone into the Country last year, wert thou ever there?
2 Cit.
I, 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 down with me this Summer when I am brought to bed?
2 Cit.
Alas, it is no place for us.
1 Cit.
Why, pray thee?
2 Cit.
Why you can have nothing there, there's no body cryes brooms.
1 Cit.
No?
2 Cit.
No truly, nor milk.
1 Cit.
Nor milk, how do they?
2 Cit.
They are fain 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.
I God knows will they, and yet they do not greatly care for our husbands.
1 Cit.
Do they not? Alas! I'good faith I cannot blame them: for we do not greatly care for them our selves.Philip, I pray choose us a place.
Phil.
There's the best forsooth.
1 Cit.
By your leave good people a little.
3.
What's the matter?
Phil.
I pray you my friend, do not thrust my Mistress so, she's withChild.
2.
Let her look to her self then, has she not had showing enough yet? if she stay shouldring here, she may haps go home with a cake in her belly.
3.
How now, goodman squitter-breech, why do you lean on me?
Phi.
Because I will.
3.
Will you Sir sawce-box?
1 Cit.
Look if one ha'not struckPhilip, come hitherPhilip, 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'rt as wild as a Buck, there's no quarel but thou'rt at one end or other on't.
3.
It's at the first end then, for he'l ne'r stay the last.
1 Cit.
Well slip-string, I shall meet with you.
3.
When you will.
1 Cit.
I'le give a crown to meet with you.
3.
At a Bawdy-house.
1 Cit.
I you're full of your Roguery; but if I do meet you it shall cost me a fall.
Flourish. Enter one running.
4
The King, the King, the King. Now, now, now, now.
Flourish. EnterArb. Tigr.The two Kings andMardonius.
All.
God preserve your Majesty.
Arb.
I thank you all, now are my joyes 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 expences to maintain my war, is but a little word, you will imagine 'tis slender paiment, yet 'tis such a word, as is not to be bought but with your bloods, 'tis Peace.
All.
God preserve your Majesty.
Arb.
Now you may live securely i'your Towns,Your Children round about you; may sitUnder your Vines, and make the miseriesOf other Kingdoms a discourse for you,And lend them sorrows; for your selves, you maySafely forget there are such things as tears,And you may all whose good thoughts I have gain'd,Hold me unworthy, where I think my lifeA sacrifice too great to keep you thusIn such a calm estate.
All.
God bless your Majesty.
Arb.
See all good people, I have brought the man whose very name you fear'd, a captive home; behold him, 'tisTigranes; in your heart sing songs of gladness, and deliverance.
1 Cit.
Out upon him.
2 Cit.
How he looks.
3 Wom.
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 so far from me to mean it so: if I have ought deserv'd, my loving Subjects, let me beg of you, not to revile this Prince, in whom there dwells all worth of which the name of a man is capable, valour beyond compare, the terrour of his name has stretcht it self where ever there is sun; and yet for you I fought with him single, and won him too; I made his valour stoop, and brought that name soar'd to so unbeliev'd a height, to fall beneath mine: this inspir'd 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 commendation of himself: I would not be so vain-glorious.
Arb.
If there be any thing in which I mayDo 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 joyWould be to spend my days among you all.You shew your loves in these large multitudesThat 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 sitAt your boards with plenty: when there isA want of any thing, let it be knownTo 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, all's done.
3.
Content, farewelPhilip.
1 Cit.
Away you halter-sack you.
2.
Philipwill not fight, he's afraid on's face.
Phil.
I marry am I afraid of my face.
3.
Thou wouldst bePhilipif thou sawst it in a glass; it looks so like a Visour.
[_Exeunt2.,3., and Woman_.
1 Cit.
You'l be hang'd sirra: ComePhilipwalk before us homewards; did not his Majesty say he had brought us home Pease for all 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 shall anon I warrant you have every one a peck brought home to our houses.
Actus Tertius.
EnterArbacesandGobrias.
Arb.
My Sister take it ill?
Gob.
Not very ill.Something unkindly she does take it Sir to haveHer Husband chosen to her hands.
Arb.
WhyGobriaslet 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? whyGobrias, 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 inArmenia,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 well, and many times the newsWas so long coming, that before we heardShe 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.
Enter1 Gent,andTigranes.
1 Gent.
Sir, here is theArmenianKing.
Arb.
He's welcome.
1 Gent.
And the Queen-mother, and the Princess wait without.
Arb.
GoodGobriasbring 'em in.Tigranes, you will think you are arriv'dIn a strange Land, where Mothers cast to poysonTheir only Sons; think you you shall be safe?
Tigr.
Too safe I am Sir.
EnterGobrias, Arane, Panthea, Spaconia, Bacurius, MardoniusandBessus,and two Gentlemen.
Ara.
As low as this I bow to you, and wouldAs low as is my grave, to shew a mindThankful for all your mercies.
Arb.
O stand up,And let me kneel, the light will be asham'dTo 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 beAs white as innocence her self.
Ara.
I cameOnly to shew my duty, and acknowledgeMy sorrows for my sins; longer to stayWere but to draw eyes more attentivelyUpon my shame, that power that kept you safeFrom me, preserve you still.
Arb.
Your own desires shall be your guide.
[ExitArane.
Pan.
Now let me die, since I have seen my Lord the KingReturn in safetie, I have seen all good that lifeCan shew me; I have ne're another wishFor 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 lookOn me, as if I were some loathed thingThat 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'dHither, from hence; you shall not tarry there,Up, and be gone, if thou beest Love be gone:Or I will tear thee from my wounded breast,Pull thy lov'd Down away, and with thy QuillBy 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 dartsAre 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 thingBoth 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 farFrom kind words? yet to save my modesty,That must talk till you answer, do not standAs you were dumb, say something, though it bePoyson'd with anger, that it may strike me dead.
Mar.
Have you no life at all? for man-hood sakeLet 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 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.
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 seeNo 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;And do not think to cozen me with this:I see you all 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'dA Virgin, though more innocent than sheep,As clear as her own eyes, and blessednessEternal waits upon her where she is:I know she could not make a wish to changeHer state for new, and you shall see me bearMy crosses like a man; we all must die,And she hath taught us how.
Gob.
Do not mistake,And vex your self for nothing; for her deathIs a long life off, I hope: 'Tis she,And if my speech deserve not faith, lay deathUpon me, and my latest words shall forceA credit from you.
Arb.
Which, good Gobrias? that Lady dost thou mean?
Gob.
That Lady Sir,She is your Sister, and she is your SisterThat 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 mySpaconiaTouches me, as a sudden thunder-clapDoes one that is about to sin.
Arb.
Away,No more of this; here I pronounce him Traytor,The direct plotter of my death, that namesOr thinks her for my Sister, 'tis a lie,The most malicious of the world, inventedTo 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 ever, I create her none:And which of you can question this? My powerIs like the Sea, that is to be obey'd,And not disputed with: I have decreed herAs far from having part of blood with me,As the nak'dindians; 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 powerYou make my blood a stranger unto yours,You may command me dead, and so much loveA 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 liveLike sinfull issues that are left in streetsBy their regardless Mothers, and no nameWill 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? All the worldMay take delight in this, and 'tis damnationFor me to do so: You are fair and wiseAnd vertuous I think, and he is blestThat 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 firstO'rethrow Divinity, all moral Laws,And leave mankind as unconfin'd as beasts,Allowing 'em to do all actionsAs freely as they drink when they desire.Let me not hear you speak again; yet seeI shall but lang[u]ish for the want of that,The having which, would kill me: No man hereOffer to speak for her; for I considerAs much as you can say; I will not toilMy 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 shall see it end some other way.
Pan.
Pray heaven it do.
Tig.
Though she to whom I swore, be here, I cannotStifle my passion longer; if my fatherShould rise again disquieted with this,And charge me to forbear, yet it would out.Madam, a stranger, and a pris'ner begsTo be bid welcome.
Pan.
You are welcome, Sir,I think, but if you be not, 'tis past meTo 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 whomIs 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 fearTigraneswill be caught, he looks, me-thinks,As he would change his eyes with her; some helpThere 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 follyTo credit it? The least word that she speaksIs worth a life; rule your disordered tongue,Or I will temper it.
Spa.
Blest be the breath.
Tigr.
Temper my tongue! such incivilitiesAs these, no barbarous people ever knew:You break the lawes of Nature, and of Nations,You talk to me as if I were a prisonerFor theft: my tongue be temper'd? I must speakIf 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 meTo 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, seeIf my frown be regardless; Why delay you?Seise himBacurius, you shall know my wordSweeps 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 awayBy any thing.
Bac.
Come Sir.
Tigr.
Justice, thou ought'st to give me strength enoughTo shake all these off; This is tyrannie,Arbaces, sutler than the burning Bulls,Or that fam'dTitansbed. Thou mightst as wellSearch i'th' deep of Winter through the snowFor 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.
[ExeuntTigr.AndBac.
Spa.
I ne're rejoyc'd at any ill to him,But this imprisonment: what shall becomeOf me forsaken?
Gob.
You will not let your SisterDepart thus discontented from you, Sir?
Arb.
By no meansGobrias, 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 earTo all 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 worstCan 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 theeMy 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 betterThan if you had not frown'd, it comes to me,Like mercie at the block, and when I leaveTo 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, ParadiseIs 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 prisonerIn 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 speakFor 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 proveAll this that I have said, if I may liveSo long; but I am desperately sick,For she has given me poison in a kiss;She had't betwixt her lips, and with her eyesShe witches people: go without a word.
[ExeuntGob. Pan. Bes.AndSpaconia.
Why should you that have made me stand in warLike fate it self, cutting what threds I pleas'd,Decree such an unworthy end of me,And all my glories? What am I, alas,That you oppose me? if my secret thoughtsHave ever harbour'd swellings against you,They could not hurt you, and it is in youTo give me sorrow, that will render meApt to receive your mercy; rather so,Let it be rather so, than punish meWith such unmanly sins: Incest is in meDwelling already, and it must be holyThat pulls it thence, where artMardonius?
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 legsRefuse to bear my body; OMardonius,Thou hast in field beheld me, when thou knowstI could have gone, though I could never run.
Mar.
And so I shall 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 butMardonius, 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 fellow, 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 gallant young spirit, raised a company for me with the money and sent me intoArmeniawith '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, butMardoniuscudgel'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; AndMardoniusmight help this too, if he would; for now they think to get honour on me, and all the men I have abus'd call me freshly worthily, as they call it by the way of challenge.
Enter a Gent.
3 Gent.
Good morrow, CaptainBessus.
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 all.
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 challenge 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 call 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 well 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, all 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 shall 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 tell you, I think there will be more after him, than before him, I think so; pray you commend me to him, and tell 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 challenges 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 all end, my reputation is dear to me, and I must require satisfaction: Who's there? more paper I hope, no, 'tis my LordBacurius, I fear all is not well betwixt us.
EnterBacurius.
Bac.
Now CaptainBessus, 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 call 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.
Tell not me of your Engagements, CaptainBessus, 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.
Bessusthe Coward wrong'd you.
Bac.
Right.
Bes.
And shallBessusthe Valiant, maintain whatBessusthe 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 shall 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 all 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.
[ExitBac.
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 all his followers, that this is all that's left uneaten of my sword.
[ExitBessus.
EnterMardonius.
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 followed 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.
EnterArbaces.
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 keepA breast to harbour thoughts? I dare not speak.Darkness is in my bosom, and there lieA 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 wellMardonius, how dost thou do?
Mar.
Better than you I fear.