_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 cannot
Stifle my passion longer; if my father
Should rise again disquieted with this,
And charge me to forbear, yet it would out.
Madam, a stranger, and a pris'ner begs
To be bid welcome.
_Pan_.
You are welcome, Sir,
I think, but if you be not, 'tis past me
To 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 whom
Is 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 fear
_Tigranes_ will be caught, he looks, me-thinks,
As he would change his eyes with her; some help
There 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_.