shouldering here, she may hap to go home with a cake in her belly.

3 Man. How now, goodman Squitter-breech! why do you lean on me? Phil. Because I will.

3 Man. Will you, Sir Sauce-box?

[Strikes him. 1 Cit. W. Look, if one ha' not struck Philip!Come hither, Philip; why did he strike thee? Phil. For leaning on him.

1 Cit. W. Why didst thou lean on him? Phil. I did not think he would have struck me. 1 Cit. W. As God save me, la, thou art as wild as a buck; there's no quarrel, but thou art at one end or other on't.

3 Man. It's at the first end then, for he'll ne'er

Wom. Is the king hard by?

1 Man. You heard he with the bottles said, he thought we should come too late. What abundance of people here is!

Wom. But what had he in those bottles?

3 Man. I know not.

2 Man. Why, ink, goodman fool.

3 Man. Ink! What to do?

1 Man. Why, the king, look you, will many times call for those bottles, and break his mind to his friends.

Wom. Let's take our places quickly; we shall have no room else.

2 Man. The man told us he would walk o' foot through the people.

3 Man. Ay, marry, did he.

1 Man. Our shops are well look'd to now.
2 Man. 'Slife, yonder's my master, I think.
1 Man. No, 'tis not he.

Enter PHILIP with two Citizens' Wives.

1 Cit. W. Lord, how fine the fields be! What sweet living 'tis in the country!

2 Cit. W. Ay, poor souls, God help 'em, they live as contentedly as one of us.

1 Cit. W. My husband's cousin would have had me gone into the country last year. Wert thou ever there?

2 Cit. W. Ay, poor souls, I was amongst 'em

2 Cit. W. No, truly, nor milk.

1 Cit. W. Nor milk, how do they?

2 Cit. W. They are fain to milk themselves i' the country.

1 Cit W. Good Lord! But the people there, I think, will be very dutiful to one of us.

2 Cit. W. Ay, God knows will they; and yet they do not greatly care for our husbands.

1 Cit. W. Do they not? Alas! i' good faith, I cannot blame them, for we do not greatly care for them ourselves. Philip, I pray, choose us a place.

Phil. There's the best, forsooth.

1 Cit. W. By your leave, good people, a little. 1 Man. What's the matter?

Phil. I pray you, my friend, do not thrust my mistress so; she's with child.

2 Man. Let her look to herself, then; has she not had thrusting enough yet? If she stay

1 Cit. W. Well, slip-string, I shall meet with

you.

3 Man. When you will.

1 Cit. W. I'll give a crown to meet with you. Flourish. Enter one running.

4 Man. The king, the king, the king, the king! Now, now, now, now!

Flourish. Enter ARBACES, TIGRANES, MARDONIUS, and Soldiers.

All. God preserve your majesty!

Arb. I thank you all. Now are my joys at full,

When I behold you safe, my loving subjects.
By you I grow; 'tis your united love
That lifts me to this height.

All the account that I can render you
For all the love you have bestow'd on me,
All your expenses to maintain my war,
Is but a little word. You will imagine
"Tis slender payment; yet 'tis such a word
As is not to be bought without our bloods:
'Tis peace!

All. God preserve your majesty!

Arb. Now you may live securely in your towns,
Your children round about you; you may sit
Under your vines, and make the miseries
Of other kingdoms a discourse for you,
And lend them sorrows. For ourselves, you may
Safely forget there are such things as tears;
And may you all, whose good thoughts I have
gain'd,

Hold me unworthy, when I think my life
A sacrifice too great to keep you thus
In such a calm estate!

All. God bless your majesty!

Arb. See, all good people, I have brought the

man,

Whose very name you fear'd, a captive home.
Behold him; 'tis Tigranes! In your hearts
Sing songs of gladness and deliverance.

1 Cit. W. Out upon him!

2 Cit. W. How he looks!

3 Wom. Hang him, hang him!
Mar. These are sweet people.
Tig. Sir, you do me wrong,
To render me a scorned spectacle
To common people.

Arb. It was far from me

To mean it so. If I have aught deserved,
My loving subjects, let me beg of you
Not to revile this prince, in whom there dwells
All worth, of which the nature of a man
Is capable; valour beyond compare:
The terror of his name has stretch'd itself
Wherever there is sun. And yet for you

I fought with him single, and won him too.
I made his valour stoop, and brought that name,
Soar'd to so unbelieved a height, to fall

Beneath mine. This, inspired with all your loves,

I did perform; and will, for your content,
Be ever ready for a greater work.

All. The Lord bless your majesty!

Tigr. So, he has made me

Amends now with a speech in commendation
Of himself; I would not be so vainglorious.
Arb. If there be anything in which I may
Do good to any creature here, speak out,
For I must leave you. And it troubles me,
That my occasions, for the good of you,
Are such as call me from you: else, my joy
Would be to spend my days amongst you all.
You show your loves in these large multitudes
That come to meet me. I will pray for you.
Heaven prosper you, that you may know old
years,

And live to see your children's children
Sit at your boards with plenty! When there is
A want of anything, let it be known
To me, and I will be a father to you.
God keep you all!

[Flourish. Exeunt Kings and their Train. All. God bless your majesty! God bless your majesty!

1 Man. Come, shall we go? all's done. Wom. Ay, for God's sake. I have not made a fire yet.

2 Man. Away, away! all's done.

3 Man. Content. Farewell, Philip.

1 Cit. W. Away, you halter-sack,1 you!

2 Man. Philip will not fight; he's afraid on's face.

Phil. Ay, marry; am I afraid of my face? 3 Man. Thou would'st be, Philip, if thou saw'st it in a glass; it looks so like a visor.

[Exeunt the three Men and Woman. 1 Cit. W. You'll be hang'd, sirrah. Come, Philip, walk before us homewards. Did not his majesty say he had brought us home peas for all our money?

2 Cit. W. Yes, marry, did he.

1 Cit. W. They're the first I heard on this year, by my troth. I long'd for some of 'em. Did he not say we should have some?

2 Cit. W. Yes, and so we shall anon, I warrant you, have every one a peck brought home to our houses,

ACT III.-SCENE I.

IBERIA. A Room in the Palace.

Enter ARBACES and GOBRIAS.

Arb. My sister take it ill?
Gob. Not very ill.

[Exeunt.

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. Oh, she is far from any stubbornness;
You much mistake her; and, no doubt, will like
Where you will have her. But, when you be-
hold her,

You will be loath 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:

1halter-sack-equivalent to 'gallows-bird.'-WEBER.

Arb. Were she my father, and my mother too, And all the names for which we think folks friends,

She should be forced to have him, when I know 'Tis fit. I will not hear her say she's loath.

pass;

Gob. Heaven bring my purpose luckily to [Aside. 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. Oh, no! When you were in Armenia,
I durst not let her know when you were hurt:
For at the first, on every little scratch,
She kept her chamber, wept, and could not eat,
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
ruled.

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 one Gentleman 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.—

[Exit GOBRIAS. Tigranes, you will think you are arrived In a strange land, where mothers cast1 to poison Their only sons. Think you, you shall be safe? Tigr. Too safe I am, sir.

Enter GOBRIAS, ARANE, PANTHEA, SPACONIA, BACURIUS, MARDONIUS, BESSUS, and two Gentlemen.

Ara. [kneels.] As low as this I bow to you; and would

As low as is my grave, to show a mind
Thankful for all your mercies.

Arb. Oh, stand up,

And let me kneel! the light will be ashamed 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 herself.

What art thou, that dost creep into my breast,
And dar'st not see my face? Show forth thyself.
I feel a pair of fiery wings display'd
Hither, from thence. You shall not tarry there!
Up, and begone; if you be'st love, begone!
Or I will tear thee from my wounded breast,
Pull thy lov'd down away, and with a quill,
By this right arm drawn from thy wanton wing,
Write to thy laughing-mother in thy blood,
That you are powers belied, and all your darts
Are to be blown away, by men resolved,
Like dust. I know thou fear'st my words; away!
Tigr. Oh, misery! why should he be so slow?
[Apart.

There can no falsehood come of loving her.
Though I have given my faith, she is a thing
Both to be loved and served 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
Poison'd with anger that may strike me dead.
Mar. Have you no life at all? For manhood
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. Lift 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 suit 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?

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 are all mute and stand amazed,
Fearful to answer me. It is too true;
A decreed instant cuts off every life,
For which to mourn is to repine. She died
A virgin though, more innocent than sleep,
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 has taught us how

Gob. Do not mistake,

And vex yourself for nothing; for her death
Is a long life off yet, 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 myself. And yet the sight of my Spaconia Touches me, as a sudden thunder clap Does one that is about to sin.

Arb. Away!

[Apart.

No more of this! Here I pronounce him traitor,
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 sheathe 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,
As the naked Indians. Come and answer me,
He that is boldest now. Is that my sister?
Mar. Oh, this is fine!
Bes. No, marry, she is not, an't please your
I never thought she was; she's nothing like you.
Arb. No; 'tis true, she is not.

[majesty,

Mar. Thou shouldst be hang'd. [To BESSUS. 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 sinful 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 music in a voice, And sin for me to hear it? All the world May take delight in this; and' 'tis damnation

and-and yet

For me to do so.-You are fair, and wise,
And virtuous, I think; and he is blessed'
That is so near you as your 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'erthrow 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 so
I shall but languish 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,
end some other way.
And you shall see
Pan. Pray heaven it do!

Tigr. [Aside.] Though she to whom I swore
be here, I cannot

Stifle my passion longer;

my father

Should rise again, disquieted with this,

And charge me to forbear, yet it would out.

[Comes forward.

words with her?

Tigr. Dare do it? hither, sir,

To that intent.

speak,

base in me

But that 'twere

To fight with one I know I can o'ercome,
Again thou shouldst be conquered by me.
Mar. He has one ransom with him already;
methinks, 'twere good to fight double or quit.

Arb. Away with him to prison!-Now, sir, see If my frown be regardless.-Why delay you? Seize him, Bacurius!-You shall know my word Sweeps like a wind; and all it grapples with Are like the chaff before it.

Tigr. Touch me not.
Arb. Help there!
Tigr. Away!

1 Gent. It is in vain to struggle.
2 Gent. You must be forced.
Bac. Sir, you must pardon us;
We must obey.

Arb. Why do you dally there?
Drag him away by anything.
Bac. Come, sir.

Tigr. Justice, thou ought'st to give me strength
enough

To shake all these off.-This is tyranny,
Arbaces, subtler than the burning bull's,
Or that famed tyrant's bed. Thou might'st as

well

Search i' the deep of winter through the snow
For half-starved people, to bring home with thee
To show 'em fire and send 'em back again,
As use me thus.

Arb. Let him be close, Bacurius.

[Exit TIGRANES, led of by BACURIUS and
Gentlemen.

Spa. I ne'er rejoiced 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 myself believe much of myself,
That is not in me.-You did kneel to me,
Whilst I stood stubborn and regardless by,
And, like a god incensed, gave no ear
To all your prayers. [Kneels.]-Behold,

to you:

Show a contempt as large as was my own, And I will suffer it; yet, at the last, Forgive me.

Pan. Oh, you wrong me more in this

kneel

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, too. Here 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!

1 The allusions are to the burning bull of Phalaris, in which he roasted his victims alive, and to the bed of Procrustes, who made all his prisoners fit it either by stretching them on the rack, or lopping off their feet.