Heaven prosper you, that you may know old years,
And live to see your children's children

Sit at your boards with plenty! When there is
A want of anything, 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 Man. Come, shall we go? all's done. Wom. Ay, for God's sake: I have not made a fire yet.

2 Man. Away, away! all's done.

3 Man. Content. Farewell, Philip.

1 Cit. W. Away, you halter-sack, you!

2 Man. Philip will not fight; he's afraid on's face.

Phil. Ay, marry; am I afraid of my face? 3 Man. Thou wouldst be, Philip, if thou saw'st it in a glass; it looks so like a visor.

[Exeunt the three Men and Women,

1 Cit. W. You'll be hang'd, sirrah. Come Philip, walk before us homewards. Did not his majesty say he had brought us home peas for all our money?

2 Cit. W. Yes, marry, did be.

1 Cit. W. They're the first I heard on this year, by my troth. I long'd for some of 'em. Did he not say, we should have some?

2 Cit. W. Yes, and so we shall anon, I warrant you, have every one a peck brought home to our houses. [Exeunt.

SCENE I.-IBERIA. A Room in the Palace.
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. Ch, she is far from any stubbornness; You much mistake her; and, no doubt, will like Where you will have her. But, when you behold You will be loth to part with such a jewel. Arb. To part with her? Why, Gobrias, art thou 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.

[her,

[mad?

[Aside.

Arb. Were she my father, and my mother too, And all the names for which we think folks friends, She should be forced to have him, when I know 'Tis fit. I will not hear her say, she's loth. Gob. Heaven, bring my purpose luckily to pass ! Aside. 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. Oh, 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 well; and many times the news Was so long coming, that, before we heard, She was as near her death, as you your health.

Arb. Alas, poor soul! But yet she must be ruled. I know not how I shall requite her well. I long to see her: Have you sent for her, To tell her I am ready?

Gob. Sir, I have.

What art thou, that dost creep into my breast,
And dar'st not see my face? Shew forth thyself.
I feel a pair of fiery wings display'd

Hither, from thence. You shall not tarry there!
Up, and begone; if you be'st love, be gone!
Or I will tear thee from my wounded breast,
Pull thy lov'd down away, and with a quill,
By this right arm drawn from thy wanton wing,
Write to thy laughing mother in thy blood,
That you are powers belied, and all your darts
Are to be blown away, by men resolved,
Like dust. I know thou fear'st my words; away!
Tigr. Oh, misery; why should he be so slow?
[Apart.

There can no falsehood come of loving her.
Though I have given my faith, she is a thing
Both to be loved and served beyond my faith.
I would, he would present me to her quickly.

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

Mar. Have you no life at all? For manhood Let her not kneel, and talk neglected thus. [sake, 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 Why do you let her kneel so long?-Alas! [earth: Madam, your beauty uses to command,

And not to beg. What is your suit to me?
It shall be granted; yet the time is short,

And my affairs are great. But where's my sister?
I bade, she should be brought.

Arb. Away!

[Apart.

No more of this! Here I pronounce him traitor,
The direct plotter of my death, that names
Or thinks her for my sister: "Tis a lye,

The most malicious of the world, invented
To mad your king. He that will say so next,
Let him draw out his sword and sheathe 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 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 naked Indians. Come and answer me,
He that is boldest now: Is that my sister?

Mar. Oh, this is fine!

[majesty.

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 sinful issues, that are left in streets
By their regardless mothers, and no name
Will be found for me.

Arb. I will hear no more.-
Why should there be such music in a voice,
And sin for me to hear it? All the world
May take delight in this; and 'tis damnation
For me to do so.-You are fair, and wise,
And virtuous, I think; and he is blessed
That is so near you as a brother is ;
But you are nought to me but a disease;
Continual torment without hope of ease.
Such an ungodly sickness I have got,
That he, that undertakes my cure, must first
O'erthrow divinity, all moral laws,

And leave mankind as unconfin'd as beasts;
Allowing 'em to do all actions,

As freely as they drink when they desire.
Let me not hear you speak again; yet so
I shall but languish for the want of that,

The having which would kill me.-No man here
Offer to speak for her; for I consider
As much as you can say; I will not toil
My body and my mind too; rest thou there;
Here's one within will labour for you both.
Pan. I would I were past speaking.
Gob. Fear not, madam;

The king will alter: 'Tis some sudden rage,
And you shall see it end some other way.

Pan. Pray Heaven it do!

Tigr. [Aside.] 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--

[Comes forward.

Tigr. Do not fear his frown. Dear madam, hear me.

Arb. Fear not my frown? But that 'twere base in me

To fight with one I know I can o'ercome,
Again thou shouldst be conquered by me.

Mar. He has one ransom with him already; methinks, 'twere good to fight double or quit.

Arb. Away with him to prison !-Now, sir, see If my frown be regardless.-Why delay you? Seize him, Bacurius!-You shall know my word Sweeps like a wind; and all it grapples with Are as the chaff before it.

Tigr. Justice, thou ought'st to give me strength To shake all these off. This is tyranny, [enough Arbaces, subtler than the burning bull's,

Or that famed tyrant's bed. Thou might'st as well
Search i' the deep of winter through the snow
For half-starved people, to bring home with thee
To show 'em fire and send 'em back again,
As use me thus.

Arb. Let him be close, Bacurius.

[Exit TIGRANES, led off by BACURIUS and Gentlemen. Spa. I ne'er rejoiced at any ill to him,

But this imprisonment: What shall become
Of me forsaken ?

Gob. You will not let your sister

Depart thus discontented from you, sir?

Arb. By no means, Gobrias: I have done her And made myself believe much of myself, [wrong, That is not in me.-You did kneel to me,

Whilst I stood stubborn and regardless by,
And, like a god incensed, gave no ear

[you:

To all your prayers. [Kneels.] Behold, I kneel to
Shew a contempt as large as was my own,
And I will suffer it; yet, at the last,
Forgive me.

Pan. Oh, 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.

[sir,

Tigr. Temper my tongue! Such incivilities As these no barbarous people ever knew: You break the laws 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!

Pan. This is better

Than if you had not frowned; it comes to me
Like mercy at the block: And when I leave
To serve you with my life, your curse be with me!
Arb. Then thus I do salute thee; and again,
To make this knot the stronger. Paradise

Is there! It may be, you are yet in doubt;
This third kiss blots it out.-I wade in sin, [Aside.
And foolishly entice myself 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. Do it.
Gob. Good sir!

Arb. No more! Do it, I say!
Mar. This is better and better.
Pan. Yet, hear me speak.

Arb. I will not hear you speak.-
Away with her! Let no man think to speak
For such a creature; for she is a witch,

A poisoner, and a traitor!

Gob. Madam, this office grieves me.
Pan. Nay, 'tis well;

The king is pleased with it.

Arb. Bessus, go you along too with her.

All this that I have said, if I may live

So long. But I am desperately sick;
For she has given me poison in a kiss :
She had it 'twixt her lips; and with her eyes
She witches people. Go, without a word!

I will [prove

[Exeunt GOBRIAS, PANTHEA, BESSUS, and SPACONIA. Why should You, that have made me stand in war Like Fate itself, cutting what threads I pleased, Decree such an unworthy end of me, And all my glories? What am I, alas, That you oppose me! If my secret thoughts Have ever harboured swellings against you, They could not hurt you; and it is in you To give me sorrow, that will render me Apt to receive your mercy: Rather so, Let it be rather so, than punish me With such unmanly sins. Incest is in me Dwelling already; and it must be holy, That pulls it thence.--Where art, Mardonius! Mar. Here, sir.

Arb. I 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! Oh, Mardonius,

Thou hast in field beheld me, when thou know'st I could have gone, though I could never run. Mar. And so I shall again.

Arb. Oh, no, 'tis past.

Mar. Pray you, go rest yourself.

Arb. Wilt thou, hereafter, when they talk of me, As thou shalt hear nothing but infamy, Remember some of those things?

SCENE II.-A Room in the House of BESsus. Enter BESSus.

Bes. They talk of fame; I have gotten it in the wars, and will afford any man a reasonable pennyworth. Some will say, they could be content to have it, but that it is to be atchieved 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 nobody knows but Mardonius; and, I think, he conceals it to anger me. Before I went to the wars, I came to the town a young fellow, without means or parts to deserve friends; and my empty guts persuaded me to lie, and abuse people, for my meat; which I

did, and they beat me. Then would I fast two days, till my hunger cried out on me, "Rail still:" Then, methought, I had a monstrous stomach to abuse 'em again, and did it. In this state I continued, till they hung me up by the heels, and beat me with hasle-sticks, as if they would have baked me, and have cozen'd somebody with me for venison. After this I rail'd, and eat quietly: For the whole kingdom took notice of me for a baffled whipp'd fellow, and what I said was remembered in mirth, but never in anger, of which I was glad. I would it were at that pass again! After this, Heaven call'd an aunt of mine, that left two hundred pounds in a cousin's hand for me; who, taking me to be a gallant young spirit, raised a company for me with the money, and sent me into Armenia with 'em. Away I would have run from them, but that I could get no company: and alone I durst not run. I was never at battle but once, and there I was running, but Mardonius cudgell'd me: Yet I got loose at last, but was so afraid that I saw no more than my shoulders do; but fled with my whole company amongst mine enemies, and overthrew 'em: Now the report of my valour is come over before me, and they say I was a raw young fellow, but now I am improved: A plague on their eloquence! 'twill cost me many a beating; and Mardonius might help this too, if he would; for now they think to get honour on me, and all the men I have abused call me freshly to account, (worthily as they call it) by the way of challenge.

Enter the third Gentleman.

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 famed, and he doth nothing doubt but you will do him right, as beseems a soldier.

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. [Gives him a letter.

Bes. 'Tis a challenge, sir, is it not? 3 Gent. 'Tis an inviting to the field.

Bes. An inviting? Oh, cry you mercy!-What a compliment he delivers it with! he might, as agreeably to my nature, present me poison with such a speech. [Reads.] Um, um, um,- Reputationum, um, um-call you to account-um, um, um -forced to this-um, um, um-with my swordum, um, um-like agentleman-um, um, um-dear to me-um, um, um-satisfaction. - 'Tis very well, sir; I do accept it; but he must wait an answer this thirteen weeks.

3 Gent. Why, sir, he would be glad to wipe off this stain as soon as he could.

Bes. Sir, upon my credit, I am already engaged to two hundred and twelve; all which must have their stains wiped off, if that be the word, before him.

3 Gent. Sir, if you be truly engaged 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 bruised in battle; so that I cannot fight, I must

Bes. Good-morrow, good sir.-Certainly, my safest way were to print myself a coward, with a discovery how I came by my credit, and clap it upon every post. I have received above thirty challenges within this two hours: Marry, all but the first I put off with engagement; and, by good fortune, the first is no madder of fighting than I; so that that's referred. The place where it must be ended is four days' journey off, and our arbitrators 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 friend's health. If they would send me challenges thus thick, as long as I lived, I would have no other living: I can make seven shillings a-day o' th' paper to the grocers. Yet I learn nothing by all these, but a little skill in comparing of styles: I do find evidently, that there is some one scrivener in this town, that has a great hand in writing of challenges, for they are all of a cut, and six of 'em in a hand; and they all end, "My reputation is dear to me, and I must require satisfaction."Who's there? more paper, I hope. No; 'tis my lord Bacurius. I fear, all is not well betwixt us. Enter BACURIUS.

Bac. But now, people will call you valiant; desertlessly, I think; yet, for their satisfaction, I will have you fight me.

Bes. Oh, my good lord, my deep engagementsBac. Tell not me of your engagements, Captain Bessus! It is not to be put off with an excuse. For my own part, I am none of the multitude that believe your conversion from coward.

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 pr'ythee leave these cheating tricks! I swear thou shalt fight with me, or thou shalt be beaten extremely, 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 pounds, but I will have my leg well a week sooner purposely.

Bac. Your leg! why, what ail's your leg? do a cure on you. Stand up!

I'll

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. [Kicks him.

Bes. My lord, I take this as a punishment for the offence I did when I was a coward.

Bac. When thou wert? confess thyself a coward still, or, by this light, I'll beat thee into sponge. Bes. Why, I am one.

Bac. Are you so, sir? and why do you wear a sword then? Come, unbuckle! quick!

Bes. My lord?

Bac. Unbuckle, I say, and give it me; or, as I live, thy head will ache extremely.

Best. 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-year's-gift.

[Gives him his sword, with a knife in the scabbard. Bac. I thank you very heartily, sweet captain! Farewell.

Bes. One word more: I beseech your lordship to render me my knife again.

Bac. Marry, by all means, captain. [Gives him back the knife.] Cherish yourself with it, and eat hard, good captain! we cannot tell whether we shall have any more such. Adieu, dear captain! [Exit BACURITIS.

Bes. I will make better use of this, than of my sword. A base spirit has this 'vantage of a brave one; it keeps always at a stay, nothing brings it down, not beating. I remember I promised the king, in a great audience, that I would make my 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 outswear him and all his followers, that this is all that's left uneaten of my sword. [Exit BESSUS.

SCENE III.-An Apartment in the Palace.

Enter MARDONIUS.

Mar. I'll 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 follow'd 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 choose but weep to see him his very enemies, I think, whose wounds have bred his fame, if they should see him now, would find tears 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 me, when this deed is done, Conscience, that art afraid to let me name it! Mar. How do you, sir?

Arb. Why, very well, Mardonius. How dost thou do?

Mar. Better than you, I fear.

Arb. I hope thou art; for, to be plain with thee,
Thou art in hell else! Secret scorching flames,
That far transcend earthly material fires,
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