ARBACES, king of Iberia. TIGRANES, king of Armenia. ARANE, the queen-mother. PANTHEA, her daughter. GOBRIAS, lord-protector, and father of Arbaces. SPACONIA, a lady, daughter of Ligones. BACURIUS, another lord. MARDONIUS, BESSUS, } two captains. LIGONES, father of Spaconia. Two gentlemen. Two Sword-men. MANDANE, a waiting-woman; and other atten dants. Three men and a woman. PHILIP, a servant, and two citizens' wives. A Messenger, A Servant to BACURIUS. A Boy. SCENE.-On the Frontiers of Armenia; and afterwards in the Metropolis of Iberia. Enter MARDONIUS and BESSUS. ACT I. Mar. Bessus, the king has made a fair hand on't; he has ended the wars at a blow. Would my sword had a close basket hilt, to hold wine, and the blade would make knives; for we shall have nothing but eating and drinking. Bes. We that are commanders shall do well enough. Mar. Faith, Bessus, such commanders as thou may: I had as lieve set thee perdue for a pudding i'th' dark, as Alexander the Great, Bes. I love these jests exceedingly. Mar. I think thou lov'st 'em better than quarrelling, Bessus; I'll say so much in thy behalf. And yet thou'rt valiant enough upon a retreat: I think thou wouldst kill any man that stop'd thee, if thou couldst. Bes. But was not this a brave combat, Mardonius? VOL. I. Mar. Why, didst thou see it? Mar. I did so; but methought thou wink'd'st every blow they struck. Bes. Well, I believe there are better soldiers than I, that never saw two princes fight in lists. Mar. By my troth, I think so too, Bessus; many a thousand: But, certainly, all that are worse than thou have seen as much. Bes. 'Twas bravely done of our king. Mar. Yes, if he had not ended the wars. I'm glad thou dar'st talk of such dangerous busi Bes. I could willingly venture for it. Mar. Why, art thou fam'd for any valour? Mar. I'm e'en heartily glad on't: I have been with thee e'er since thou cam'st to the wars, and this is the first word that ever I heard on't. Prithee, who fames thee? Bes. The Christian world. Mar. 'Tis heathenishly done of 'em, in my conscience: Thou deserv'st it not. Bes. Yes, I ha' done good service. Mar. I do not know how thou may'st wait of a man in's chamber, or thy agility in shifting of a trencher; but otherwise no service, good Bes sus. Bes. You saw me do the service yourself. Mar. Not so hasty, sweet Bessus! Where was it? is the place vanish'd? Bes. At Bessus' Desp'rate Redemption. Mar. At Bessus' Desp'rate Redemption! where's that? Bes. There, where I redeem'd the day: the place bears my name. Mar. Prithee, who christen'd it? Bes. The soldiers. Mar. If I were not a very merrily disposed man, what would become of thee? One that had but a grain of choler in the whole composition of his body, would send thee on an errand to the worms, for putting thy name upon that field: Did not I beat thee there, i'th' head o'th' troops, with a truncheon, because thou wouldst needs run away with thy company, when we should charge the enemy? Bes. True, but I did not run. Mar. Right, Bessus: I beat thee out on't. Bes. But came I not up when the day was gone, and redeem'd all? Mar. Thou knowest, and so do I, thou meant'st to fly, and thy fear making thee mistake, thou ran'st upon the enemy; and a hot charge thou gav'st; as, I'll do thee right, thou art furious in running away; and, I think, we owe thy fear for our victory. If I were the king, and were sure thou wouldst mistake always, and run away upon the enemy, thou shouldst be general, by this light. Bes. You'll never leave this, till I fall foul. Mar. No more such words, dear Bessus; for though I have ever known thee a coward, and therefore durst never strike thee, yet if thou proceed'st, I will allow thee valiant, and beat thee. Bes. Come, our king's a brave fellow. Mar. He is so, Bessus; I wonder how thou cam'st to know it. But, if thou wert a man of understanding, I would tell thee, he is vain-glorious and humble, and angry and patient, and merry and dull, and joyful and sorrowful, in extremity, in an hour. Do not think me thy friend, for this; for if I car'd who knew it, thou shouldst takes away Arb. Thy sadness, brave Tigranes, The way to victory. She was a pretty child; Tigr. Is't the course a Of Iberia to use her prisoners thus ? temper Till you saw home again, where 'tis the fashion, Arb. Be you my witness, earth, That I have wrought upon his suffering land? Within his whole realm, that I have not past, Mar. Indeed, this is none. [Aside. Arb. Tigranes, nay, did I but take delight To stretch my deeds as others do, on words, I could amaze my hearers. Mar. So you do. Arb. But he shall wrong his and my modesty, Arb. See, if I insult, That am the conqueror, and for a ransom The daughters of your country, set by her, 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. Mur. 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; Arb. Is that all the cause? Think you, you can so knit yourself in love 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, Is full of wisdom, valour, all the graces 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 Will you confine my words? By Heav'n and earth, Bes. Ha, ha, ha! Arb. Why dost thou laugh? By all the world, I'm grown ridiculous To my own subjects. Tie me in a chair, And jest at me! But I shall make a start, And punish some, that others may take heed How they are haughty. Who will answer me? He said I boasted: Speak, Mardonius, I cannot be heard out; they cut me off, In woods, and talk to trees; they will allow me 1 Gent. May it please— Arb. mean not you; Did not I stop you once? But I am grown Arb. Wilt thou devour me? This is such a rudeness As yet you never shew'd me: And I want Mur. Truth will offend you. Arb. You take all great care what will offend Mov'd you like wheels; it mov'd you as it pleas'd. That rule such people: I have nothing left 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. Arb. Alas, Mardonius, rise! you shall not kneel: We all are soldiers, and all venture lives; Mar. Sir, you did promise you would hear me out. Arb. And so I will: Speak freely, for from thee Nothing can come, but worthy things and true. Mar. Though you have all this worth, you hold some qualities that do eclipse your virtues. Arb. Eclipse my virtues? Mar. Yes; your passions; which are so manifold, that they appear even in this: When I commend you, you hug me for that truth; 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. 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; 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 As mine, Mardonius! It was nobly said; A swift amendment. But I want those parts Should differ thus ! Mar. Why, 'tis no matter, sir. Arb. Faith, but it is: But thou dost ever take And that thou shalt be sure of. Thou and I 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. 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. Bes. An please your majesty, I have a suit, 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. How does he? is he well? Arb. Take that for thy good news. 1 Gent. The king starts back. Mar. His blood goes back as fast. 2 Gent. And now it comes again. Mar. He alters strangely. |