 | A King, and no King |  |
Actus Tertius.
Enter Arbaces and Gobrias.Arb.
My Sister take it ill?
Gob.
Not very ill,
Something unkindly she does take it Sir to have
Her Husband chosen to her hands.
Arb.
Why Gobrias let her, I must have her know, my will
and not her own must govern her: what will she marry with
some slave at home?
Gob.
O she is far from any stubbornness, you much mistake
her, and no doubt will like where you would have her, but
when you behold her, you will be loth to part with such a
jewel.
Arb.
To part with her? why Gobrias, art thou mad? she
is my Sister.
Gob.
Sir, I know she is: but it were pity to make poor
our Land, with such a beauty to enrich another.
Arb.
Pish will she have him?
Gob.
I do hope she will not, I think she will Sir.
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 sit: 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,
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.
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: list 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,
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 langish 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.
I would I were past speaking.
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.
I am.
Arb.
And who is this?
Tigr.
She is your Sister.
Arb.
She is so.
Mar.
Is she so again? that's well.
Arb.
And then how dare you offer to change words with her?
Tigr.
Dare do it! Why? you brought me hither Sir,
To that intent.
Arb.
Perhaps I told you so,
If I had sworn it, had you so much folly
To credit it? The least word that she speaks
Is worth a life; rule your disordered tongue,
Or I will temper it.
Spa.
Blest be the breath.
Tigr.
Temper my tongue! such incivilities
As these, no barbarous people ever knew:
You break the lawes of Nature, and of Nations,
You talk to me as if I were a prisoner
For theft: my tongue be temper'd? I must speak
If thunder check me, and I will.
Arb.
You will?
Spa.
Alas my fortune.
Tigr.
Do not fear his frown, dear Madam, hear me.
Arb.
Fear not my frown? but that 'twere base in me
To fight with one I know I can o'recome,
Again thou shouldst be conquer'd by me.
Mar.
He has one ransome with him already; me-thinks
'T were good to fight double, or quit.
Arb.
Away with him to prison: Now Sir, see
If my frown be regardless; Why delay you?
Seise him Bacurius, you shall know my word
Sweeps like a wind, and all it grapples with,
Are as the chaffe before it.
Tigr.
Touch me not.
Arb.
Help there.
Tigr.
Away.
1 Gent.
It is in vain to struggle.
2 Gent.
You must be forc'd.
Bac.
Sir, you must pardon us, we must obey.
Arb.
Why do you dally there? drag him away
By any thing.
Bac.
Come Sir.
Tigr.
Justice, thou ought'st to give me strength enough
To shake all these off; This is tyrannie,
Arbaces, sutler than the burning Bulls,
Or that fam'd Titans bed. Thou mightst as well
Search i'th' deep of Winter through the snow
For half starv'd people, to bring home with thee,
To shew 'em fire, and send 'em back again,
As use me thus.
Arb.
Let him be close, Bacurius.
[Exeunt Tigr. and Bac.
Spa.
I ne're rejoyc'd at any ill to him,
But this imprisonment: what shall become
Of me forsaken?
Gob.
You will not let your Sister
Depart thus discontented from you, Sir?
Arb.
By no means Gobrias, I have done her wrong,
And made my self believe much of my self,
That is not in me: You did kneel to me,
Whilest I stood stubborn and regardless by,
And like a god incensed, gave no ear
To all your prayers: behold, I kneel to you,
Shew a contempt as large as was my own,
And I will suffer it, yet at the last forgive me.
Pan.
O you wrong me more in this,
Than in your rage you did: you mock me now.
Arb.
Never forgive me then, which is the worst
Can happen to me.
Pan.
If you be in earnest,
Stand up and give me but a gentle look,
And two kind words, and I shall be in heaven.
Arb.
Rise you then to hear; I acknowledge thee
My hope, the only jewel of my life,
The best of Sisters, dearer than my breath,
A happiness as high as I could think;
And when my actions call thee otherwise,
Perdition light upon me.
Pan.
This is better
Than if you had not frown'd, it comes to me,
Like mercie at the block, and when I leave
To serve you with my life, 'your curse be with me.
Arb.
Then thus I do salute thee, and again,
To make this knot the stronger, Paradise
Is there: It may be you are yet in doubt,
This third kiss blots it out, I wade in sin,
And foolishly intice my self along;
Take her away, see her a prisoner
In her own chamber closely, Gobrias.
Pan.
Alas Sir, why?
Arb.
I must not stay the answer, doe it.
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.
I pray thee do: for thou shalt never see me so again.
[Exeunt
Enter Bessus alone.
Bes.
They talk of fame, I have gotten it in the wars;
and will afford any man a reasonable penny-worth: some
will say, they could be content to have it, but that it is to
be atchiev'd with danger; but my opinion is otherwise:
for if I might stand still in Cannon proof, and have fame
fall upon me, I would refuse it: my reputation came principally
by thinking to run away, which no body knows
but Mardonius, and I think he conceals it to anger me.
Before I went to the warrs, I came to the Town a young
fellow, without means or parts to deserve friends; and
my empty guts perswaded me to lie, and abuse people for
my meat, which I did, and they beat me: then would I
fast two days, till my hunger cri'd out on me, rail still,
then me-thought I had a monstrous stomach to abuse 'em
again, and did it. I, this state I continu'd till they hung
me up by th'heels, and beat me wi' hasle sticks, as if they
would have baked me, and have cousen'd some body wi'me
for Venison: After this I rail'd, and eate quietly: for the
whole Kingdom took notice of me for a baffl'd whipt fellow,
and what I said was remembred in mirth but never in
anger, of which I was glad; I would it were at that pass
again. After this, heaven calls an Aunt of mine, that left
two hundred pound in a cousins hand for me, who taking me
to be a gallant young spirit, raised a company for me with
the money and sent me into Armenia with 'em: Away I
would have run from them, but that I could get no company,
and alone I durst not run. I was never at battail
but once, and there I was running, but Mardonius cudgel'd
me; yet I got loose at last, but was so fraid, that I saw no
more than my shoulders doe, but fled with my whole company
amongst my Enemies, and overthrew 'em: Now the
report of my valour is come over before me, and they say I
was a raw young fellow, but now I am improv'd, a Plague
on their eloquence, 'twill cost me many a beating; And
Mardonius might help this too, if he would; for now they
think to get honour on me, and all the men I have abus'd
call me freshly worthily, as they call it by the way of
challenge.
Enter a Gent.
3 Gent.
Good morrow, Captain Bessus.
Bes.
Good morrow Sir.
3 Gent.
I come to speak with you.
Bes.
You're very welcome.
3 Gent.
From one that holds himself wrong'd by you
some three years since: your worth he says is fam'd, and he
doth nothing doubt but you will do him right, as beseems a
souldier.
Bes.
A pox on 'em, so they cry all.
3 Gent.
And a slight note I have about me for you, for
the delivery of which you must excuse me; it is an office
that friendship calls upon me to do, and no way offensive to
you; since I desire but right on both sides.
Bes.
'Tis a challenge Sir, is it not?
3 Gent.
'Tis an inviting to the field.
Bes.
An inviting? O Sir your Mercy, what a Complement
he delivers it with? he might as agreeable to my nature
present me poison with such a speech: um um um reputation,
um um um call you to account, um um um forc'd to this,
um um um with my Sword, um um um like a Gentleman,
um um um dear to me, um um um satisfaction: 'Tis very
well Sir, I do accept it, but he must await an answer this
thirteen weeks.
3 Gent.
Why Sir, he would be glad to wipe off his stain
as soon as he could.
Bes.
Sir upon my credit I am already ingag'd to two hundred,
and twelve, all which must have their stains wip'd off,
if that be the word, before him.
3 Gent.
Sir, if you be truly ingag'd but to one, he shall
stay a competent time.
Bes.
Upon my faith Sir, to two hundred and twelve, and
I have a spent body, too much bruis'd in battel, so that I
cannot fight, I must be plain, above three combats a day:
All the kindness I can shew him, is to set him resolvedly in
my rowle, the two hundred and thirteenth man, which is
something, for I tell you, I think there will be more after
him, than before him, I think so; pray you commend me to
him, and tell him this.
3 Gent.
I will Sir, good morrow to you.
Bes.
Good morrow good Sir. Certainly my safest way
were to print my self a coward, with a discovery how I
came by my credit, and clap it upon every post; I have received
above thirty challenges within this two hours, marry
all but the first I put off with ingagement, and by good fortune,
the first is no madder of fighting than I, so that that's referred,
the place where it must be ended, is four days journey
off, and our arbitratours are these: He has chosen a Gentleman
in travel, and I have a special friend with a quartain
ague, like to hold him this five years, for mine: and when
his man comes home, we are to expect my friends health:
If they would finde me challenges thus thick, as long as I
liv'd, I would have no other living; I can make seven shillings
a day o'th' paper to the Grocers: yet I learn nothing by
all these but a little skill in comparing of stiles. I do finde
evidently, that there is some one Scrivener in this Town,
that has a great hand in writing of Challenges, for they
are all of a cut, and six of 'em in a hand; and they all end,
my reputation is dear to me, and I must require satisfaction:
Who's there? more paper I hope, no, 'tis my Lord Bacurius,
I fear all is not well betwixt us.
Bac.
Now Captain Bessus, I come about a frivolous matter,
caus'd by as idle a report: you know you were a
coward.
Bes.
Very right.
Bac.
And wronged me.
Bes.
True my Lord.
Bac.
But now people will call you valiant, desertlesly I
think, yet for their satisfaction, I will have you fight with me.
Bes.
O my good Lord, my deep Engagements.
Bac.
Tell not me of your Engagements, Captain Bessus,
it is not to be put off with an excuse: for my own part, I
am none of the multitude that believe your conversion from
Coward.
Bes.
My Lord, I seek not Quarrels, and this belongs not
to me, I am not to maintain it.
Bac.
Who then pray?
Bes.
Bessus the Coward wrong'd you.
Bac.
Right.
Bes.
And shall Bessus the Valiant, maintain what Bessus
the Coward did?
Bac.
I pray thee leave these cheating tricks, I swear thou
shalt fight with me, or thou shalt be beaten extreamly,
and kick'd.
Bes.
Since you provoke me thus far, my Lord, I will
fight with you, and by my Sword it shall cost me twenty
pound, but I will have my Leg well a week sooner purposely.
Bac.
Your Leg? Why, what ailes your Leg? i'le do a
cure on you, stand up.
Bes.
My Lord, this is not Noble in you.
Bac.
What dost thou with such a phrase in thy mouth?
I will kick thee out of all good words before I leave thee.
Bes.
My Lord, I take this as a punishment for the offence
I did when I was a Coward.
Bac.
When thou wert? Confess thy self a Coward still,
or by this light, I'le beat thee into Spunge.
Bes.
Why I am one.
Bac.
Are you so Sir? And why do you wear a Sword
then? Come unbuckle.
Bes.
My Lord.
Bac.
Unbuckle I say, and give it me, or as I live, thy
head will ake extreamly.
Bes.
It is a pretty Hilt, and if your Lordship take an
affection to it, with all my heart I present it to you for a
New-years gift.
Bac.
I thank you very heartily, sweet Captain, farewel.
Bes.
One word more, I beseech your Lordship to render
me my knife again.
Bac.
Marry by all means Captain; cherish your self with
it, and eat hard, good Captain; we cannot tell whether we
shall have any more such: Adue dear Captain.
Bes.
I will make better use of this, than of my Sword:
A base spirit has this vantage of a brave one, it keeps alwayes
at a stay, nothing brings it down, not beating. I
remember I promis'd the King in a great Audience, that I
would make my back-biters eat my sword to a knife; how
to get another sword I know not, nor know any means left
for me to maintain my credit, but impudence: therefore I
will out-swear him and all his followers, that this is all
that's left uneaten of my sword.
Enter Mardonius.
Mar.
I'le move the King, he is most strangely alter'd;
I guess the cause I fear too right, Heaven has some secret
end in't, and 'tis a scourge no question justly laid upon
him: he has followed me through twenty Rooms; and
ever when I stay to wait his command, he blushes like a Girl,
and looks upon me, as if modesty kept in his business: so
turns away from me, but if I go on, he follows me again.
Enter Arbaces.
See, here he is. I do not use this, yet I know not how,
I cannot chuse but weep to see him; his very Enemies I
think, whose wounds have bred his fame, if they should
see him now, would find tears i'their eyes.
Arb.
I cannot utter it, why should I keep
A breast to harbour thoughts? I dare not speak.
Darkness is in my bosom, and there lie
A thousand thoughts that cannot brook the light:
How wilt thou vex 'em when this deed is done,
Conscience, that art afraid to let me name it?
Mar.
How do you Sir?
Arb.
Why very well Mardonius, how dost thou do?
Mar.
Better than you I fear.
Arb.
I hope thou art; for to be plain with thee,
Thou art in Hell else, secret scorching flames
That far transcend earthly material fires
Are crept into me, and there is no cure.
Is it not strange Mardonius, there's no cure?
Mar.
Sir, either I mistake, or there is something hid
That you would utter to me.
Arb.
So there is, but yet I cannot do it.
Mar.
Out with it Sir, if it be dangerous, I will not
shrink to do you service, I shall not esteem my life a weightier
matter than indeed it is, I know it is subject to more
chances than it has hours, and I were better lose it in my
Kings cause, than with an ague, or a fall, or sleeping,
to a Thief; as all these are probable enough: let me but
know what I shall do for you.
Arb.
It will not out: were you with Gobrias,
And bad him give my Sister all content
The place affords, and give her leave to send
And speak to whom she please?
Mar.
Yes Sir, I was.
Arb.
And did you to Bacurius say as much
About Tigranes?
Mar.
Yes.
Arb.
That's all my business.
Mar.
O say not so,
You had an answer of this before;
Besides I think this business might
Be utter'd more carelesly.
Arb.
Come thou shalt have it out, I do beseech thee
By all the love thou hast profest to me,
To see my Sister from me.
Mar.
Well, and what?
Arb.
That's all.
Mar.
That's strange, I shall say nothing to her?
Arb.
Not a word;
But if thou lovest me, find some subtil way
To make her understand by signs.
Mar.
But what shall I make her understand?
Arb.
O Mardonius, for that I must be pardon'd.
Mar.
You may, but I can only see her then.
Arb.
'Tis true;
Bear her this Ring then, and
One more advice, thou shalt speak to her:
Tell her I do love My kindred all: wilt thou?
Mar.
Is there no more?
Arb.
O yes and her the best;
Better than any Brother loves his Sister: That's all.
Mar.
Methinks this need not have been delivered with
such a caution; I'le do it.
Arb.
There is more yet,
Wilt thou be faithul to me?
Mar.
Sir, if I take upon me to deliver it, after I hear it,
I'le pass through fire to do it.
Arb.
I love her better than a Brother ought;
Dost thou conceive me?
Mar.
I hope you do not Sir.
Arb.
No, thou art dull, kneel down before her,
And ne'r rise again, till she will love me.
Mar.
Why, I think she does.
Arb.
But better than she does, another way;
As wives love Husbands.
Mar.
Why, I think there are few Wives that love their
Husbands better than she does you.
Arb.
Thou wilt not understand me: is it fit
This should be uttered plainly? take it then
Naked as it is: I would desire her love
Lasciviously, lewdly, incestuously,
To do a sin that needs must damn us both;
Mar.
Yes, there's your Ring again; what have I done
Dishonestly in my whole life, name it,
That you should put so base a business to me?
Arb.
Didst thou not tell me thou wouldst do it?
Mar.
Yes; if I undertook it, but if all
My hairs were lives, I would not be engag'd
In such a case to save my last life.
Arb.
O guilt! ha how poor and weak a thing art thou?
This man that is my servant, whom my breath
Might blow upon the world, might beat me here
Having this cause, whil'st I prest down with sin
Could not resist him: hear Mardonius,
It was a motion mis-beseeming man,
And I am sorry for it.
Mar.
Heaven grant you may be so: you must understand,
nothing that you can utter, can remove my love
and service from my Prince. But otherwise, I think I
shall not love you more. For you are sinful, and if you do
this crime, you ought to have no Laws. For after this, it
will be great injustice in you to punish any offender for any
crime. For my self I find my heart too big: I feel I have
not patience to look on whilst you run these forbidden
courses. Means I have none but your favour, and I am
rather glad that I shall lose 'em both together, than keep
'em with such conditions; I shall find a dwelling amongst
some people, where though our Garments perhaps be courser,
we shall be richer far within, and harbour no such vices
in 'em: the Gods preserve you, and mend.
Arb.
Mardonius, stay Mardonius, for though
My present state requires nothing but knaves
To be about me, such as are prepar'd
For every wicked act, yet who does know
But that my loathed Fate may turn about,
And I have use for honest men again?
I hope I may, I prethee leave me not.
Enter Bessus.
Bes.
Where is the King?
Mar.
There.
Bes.
An't please your Majesty, there's the knife.
Arb.
What knife?
Bes.
The Sword is eaten.
Mar.
Away you fool, the King is serious,
And cannot now admit your vanities.
Bes.
Vanities! I'me no honest man, if my enemies have
not brought it to this, what, do you think I lie?
Arb.
No, no, 'tis well Bessus, 'tis very well I'm glad on't.
Mar.
If your enemies brought it to this, your enemies
are Cutlers, come leave the King.
Bes.
Why, may not valour approach him?
Mar.
Yes, but he has affairs, depart, or I shall be
something unmannerly with you.
Arb.
No, let him stay Mardonius, let him stay,
I have occasion with him very weighty,
And I can spare you now.
Mar.
Sir?
Arb.
Why I can spare you now.
Bes.
Mardonius give way to these State affairs.
Mar.
Indeed you are fitter for this present purpose.
[Exit Mar.
Arb.
Bessus, I should imploy thee, wilt thou do't?
Bes.
Do't for you? by this Air I will do any thing without
exception, be it a good, bad, or indifferent thing.
Arb.
Do not swear.
Bes.
By this light but I will, any thing whatsoever.
Arb.
But I shall name the thing,
Thy Conscience will not suffer thee to do.
Bes.
I would fain hear that thing.
Arb.
Why I would have thee get my Sister for me?
Thou understandst me, in a wicked manner.
Bes.
O you would have a bout with her?
I'le do't, I'le do't, I'faith.
Arb.
Wilt thou, do'st thou make no more on't?
Bes.
More? no, why is there any thing else? if there
be, it shall be done too.
Arb.
Hast thou no greater sense of such a sin?
Thou art too wicked for my company,
Though I have hell within me, thou may'st yet
Corrupt me further: pray thee answer me,
How do I shew to thee after this motion?
Bes.
Why your Majesty looks as well in my opinion, as
ever you did since you were born.
Arb.
But thou appear'st to me after thy grant,
The ugliest, loathed detestable thing
That I ever met with. Thou hast eyes
Like the flames of Sulphur, which me thinks do dart
Infection on me, and thou hast a mouth
Enough to take me in where there do stand
Four rows of Iron Teeth.
Bes.
I feel no such thing, but 'tis no matter how I look,
I'le do my business as well as they that look better, and
when this is dispatch'd, if you have a mind to your Mother,
tell me, and yon shall see I'le set it hard.
Arb.
My Mother! Heaven forgive me to hear this,
I am inspir'd with horrour: now I hate thee
Worse than my sin, which if I could come by
Should suffer death Eternal ne're to rise
In any breast again. Know I will die
Languishing mad, as I resolve, I shall,
E're I will deal by such an instrument:
Thou art too sinful to imploy in this;
Out of the World, away.
Bes.
What do you mean, Sir?
Arb.
Hung round with Curses, take thy fearful flight
Into the Desarts, where 'mongst all the Monsters
If thou find'st one so beastly as thy self,
Thou shalt be held as innocent.
Bes.
Good Sir.
Arb.
If there were no such instruments as thou,
We Kings could never act such wicked deeds:
Seek out a man that mocks Divinity,
That breaks each precept both of God and man,
And natures too, and does it without lust,
Meerly because it is a law, and good,
And live with him: for him thou canst not spoil.
Away I say, I will not do this sin.
[Exit Bessus.
I'le press it here, till it do break my breast,
It heaves to get out, but thou art a sin,
And spight of torture I will keep thee in.
| A King, and no King | |