_Arb_.
To such a thing, as if it be a truth think what a creature thou
hast made thy self, that didst not shame to do, what I must blush
only to ask thee: tell me who I am, whose son I am without all
circumstance, be thou as hasty as my Sword will be if thou
refusest.
_Ara_.
Why, you are his son.
_Arb_.
His Son? swear, swear, thou worse than woman damn'd.
_Ara_.
By all that's good you are.
_Arb_.
Then art thou all that ever was known bad, now is the cause of
all my strange mis-fortunes come to light: what reverence
expectest thou from a child, to bring forth which thou hast
offended heaven, thy husband, and the Land? adulterous witch, I
know now why thou wouldst have poyson'd me, I was thy lust which
thou wouldst have forgot: then wicked Mother of my sins, and me,
show me the way to the inheritance I have by thee: which is a
spacious world of impious acts, that I may soon possess it:
plagues rot thee, as thou liv'st, and such diseases, as use to
pay lust, recompence thy deed.
_Gob_.
You do not know why you curse thus.
_Arb_.
Too well; you are a pair of Vipers; and behold the Serpent you
have got; there is no beast but if he knew it, has a pedigree as
brave as mine, for they have more descents, and I am every way as
beastly got, as far without the compass of Law as they.
_Ara_.
You spend your rage and words in vain, and rail upon a guess;
hear us a little.
_Arb_.
No, I will never hear, but talk away my breath, and die.
_Gob_.
Why, but you are no Bastard.
_Arb_.
How's that?
_Ara_.
Nor child of mine.
_Arb_.
Still you go on in wonders to me.
_Gob_.
Pray you be more patient, I may bring comfort to you.
_Arb_.
I will kneel, and hear with the obedience of a child; good Father
speak, I do acknowledge you, so you bring comfort.
_Gob_.
First know, our last King, your supposed Father was old and
feeble when he married her, and almost all the Land thought she
was past hope of issue from him.
_Arb_.
Therefore she took leave to play the whore, because the King was
old: is this the comfort?
_Ara_.
What will you find out to give me satisfaction, when you find how
you have injur'd me? let fire consume me, if ever I were a whore.
_Gob_.
For-bear these starts, or I will leave you wedded to despair, as
you are now: if you can find a temper, my breath shall be a
pleasant western wind that cools and blasts not.
_Arb_.
Bring it out good Father. I'le lie, and listen here as reverently
as to an Angel: if I breath too loud, tell me; for I would be as
still as night.
_Gob_.
Our King I say, was old, and this our Queen desir'd to bring an
heir, but yet her husband she thought was past it, and to be
dishonest I think she would not: if she would have been, the
truth is, she was watcht so narrowly, and had so slender
opportunities, she hardly could have been: but yet her cunning
found out this way; she feign'd her self with child, and posts
were sent in hast throughout the Land, and humble thanks was
given in every Church, and prayers were made for her safe going
and delivery: she feign'd now to grow bigger, and perceiv'd this
hope of issue made her fear'd, and brought a far more large
respect from every man, and saw her power increase, and was
resolv'd, since she believ'd, she could not hav't indeed, at
least she would be thought to have a child.
_Arb_.
Do I not hear it well? nay I will make no noise at all; but pray
you to the point, quickly as you can.
_Gob_.
Now when the time was full, she should be brought to bed, I had a
Son born, which was you, this the Queen hearing of mov'd me to
let her have you; and such reasons she shewed me, as she knew
would tie my secrecie, she swore you should be King, and to be
short, I did deliver you unto her, and pretended you were dead,
and in mine own house kept a funeral, and had an empty coffin put
in Earth, that night this Queen feign'd hastily to labour and by
a pair of women of her own, which she had charm'd, she made the
world believe she was delivered of you. You grew up as the Kings
Son, till you were six years old; then did the King dye, and did
leave to me Protection of the Realm; and contrary to his own
expectation, left this Queen truely with child indeed, of the
fair Princess _Panthea_: then she could have torn her hair and
did alone to me, yet durst not speak in publick, for she knew she
should be found a traytor: and her tale would have been thought
madness, or any thing rather than truth. This was the only cause
why she did seek to poyson you, and I to keep you safe; and this
the reason, why I sought to kindle some sparks of love in you to
fair _Panthea_, that she might get part of her right again.
_Arb_.
And have you made an end now? is this all? if not,
I will be still till I be aged, till all my hairs be Silver.
_Gob_.
This is all.
_Arb_.
And is it true say you too Madam?
_Ara_.
Yes heaven knows it is most true.
_Arb_.
_Panthea_ then is not my Sister?
_Gob_.
No.
_Arb_. But can you prove this?
_Gob_.
If you will give consent, else who dares go about it?
_Arb_.
Give consent? why I will have 'em all that know it rackt, to get
this from 'em, all that wait without, come in, what ere you be,
come in and be partakers of my joy, O you are welcome.
_Enter_ Bessus, Gentlemen, Mardonius, _And other attendants_.
_Arb_.
The best news, nay draw no nearer, they all shall hear it, I am
found no King.
_Mar_.
Is that so good news?
_Arb_.
Yes the happiest news that ere was heard.
_Mar_.
Indeed 'twere well for you if you might be a little less obey'd.
_Arb_.
One call the Queen.
_Mar_.
Why she is there.
_Arb_.
The Queen _Mardonius_, _Panthea_ is the Queen and I am plain
_Arbaces_; go some one, she is in _Gobrias_ house, since I saw
you there are a thousand things delivered to me, you little dream
of.
[_Exit a Gent_.
_Mar_.
So it should seem my Lord, what fury's this?
_Gob_.
Believe me 'tis no fury, all that he saies is truth.
_Mar_.
'Tis very strange.
_Arb_.
Why do you keep your hats off Gentlemen? is it to me? I swear it
must not be; nay, trust me, in good faith it must not be; I
cannot now command you, but I pray you for the respect you bare
me, when you took me for your King, each man clap on his hat at
my desire.
_Mar_.
We will, you are not found so mean a man, but that you may be
cover'd as well as we, may you not?
_Arb_.
O not here, you may, but not I, for here is my Father in
presence.
_Mar_.
Where?
_Arb_.
Why there: O the whole story would be a wilderness to lose thy
self for ever: O pardon me dear Father for all the idle and
unreverent words that I have spoke in idle moods to you: I am
_Arbaces_, we all fellow-subjects, nor is the Queen _Panthea_ now
my Sister.
_Bes_.
Why if you remember fellow-subject _Arbaces_; I told you once
she was not your sister: I, and she lookt nothing like you.
_Arb_.