_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 speak
For 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 prove
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't betwixt her lips, and with her eyes
She witches people: go without a word.
[_Exeunt_ Gob. Pan. Bes. _And_ Spaconia.
Why should you that have made me stand in war
Like 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 thoughts
Have ever harbour'd 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; O _Mardonius_,
Thou hast in field beheld me, when thou knowst
I 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_.