_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 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 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 all 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 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 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 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 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 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'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 shall see me bear
My 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 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 shall 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 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 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? All 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, 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 see
I shall 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_.