_Arb_.
Be sorry then, true sorrow is alone, grieve by thy
self.
_Mar_.
I pray you let me see your Sword put up before I go: I'le leave
you then.
_Arb_.
Why so? what folly is this in thee, is it not as apt to mischief
as it was before? can I not reach it thinkst thou? these are
toyes for Children to be pleas'd with, and not men, now I am safe
you think: I would the book of fate were here, my Sword is not so
sure but I would get it out and mangle that, that all the
destinies should quite forget their fixt decrees, and hast to
make us new, for other fortunes, mine could not be worse, wilt
thou now leave me?
_Mar_.
Heaven put into your bosome temperate thoughts, I'le leave you
though I fear.
_Arb_.
Go, thou art honest, why should the hasty error of my youth be so
unpardonable to draw a sin helpless upon me?
_Enter_ Gobrias.
_Gob_.
There is the King, now it is ripe.
_Arb_.
Draw near thou guilty man, that art the authour of the loathedst
crime five ages have brought forth, and hear me speak; curses
more incurable, and all the evils mans body or his Spirit can
receive be with thee.
_Gob_.
Why Sir do you curse me thus?
_Arb_.
Why do I curse thee? if there be a man subtil in curses, that
exceeds the rest, his worst wish on thee, thou hast broke my
heart.
_Gob_.
How Sir, have I preserv'd you from a child, from all the arrows,
malice, or ambition could shoot at you, and have I this for my
pay?
_Arb_.
'Tis true, thou didst preserve me, and in that wert crueller than
hardned murtherers of infants and their Mothers! thou didst save
me only till thou hadst studied out a way how to destroy me
cunningly thy self: this was a curious way of torturing.
_Gob_.
What do you mean?
_Arb_.
Thou knowst the evils thou hast done to me; dost thou remember
all those witching letters thou sent'st unto me to Armenia,
fill'd with the praise of my beloved Sister, where thou extol'st
her beauty, what had I to do with that? what could her beauty be
to me? and thou didst write how well she lov'd me, dost thou
remember this? so that I doted something before I saw her.
_Gob_.
This is true.
_Arb_.
Is it? and when I was return'd thou knowst thou didst pursue it,
till thou woundst me into such a strange and unbeliev'd
affection, as good men cannot think on.
_Gob_.
This I grant, I think I was the cause.
_Arb_.
Wert thou? Nay more, I think thou meant'st it.
_Gob_.
Sir, I hate to lie, as I love Heaven and honesty, I did, it was
my meaning.
_Arb_.
Be thine own sad judge, a further condemnation will not need,
prepare thy self to dy.
_Gob_.
Why Sir to dy?
_Arb_.
Why shouldst thou live? was ever yet offender so impudent, that
had a thought of Mercy after confession of a crime like this? get
out I cannot where thou hurl'st me in, but I can take revenge,
that's all the sweetness left for me.
_Gob_.
Now is the time, hear me but speak.
_Arb_.
No, yet I will be far more mercifull than thou wert to me; thou
didst steal into me and never gav'st me warning: so much time as
I give thee now, had prevented thee for ever. Notwithstanding all
thy sins, if thou hast hope, that there is yet a prayer to save
thee, turn and speak it to thy self.
_Gob_.
Sir, you shall know your sins before you do'em, if you kill me.
_Arb_.