Tigr.

Dispraise my health, my honesty, and tell her I am jealous.

Spa.

  Why, I had rather lose you: can my heart
  Consent to let my tongue throw out such words,
  And I that ever yet spoke what I thought,
  Shall find it such a thing at first to lie?

Tigr.

Yet do thy best.

Enter Bessus.

Bes.

What, is your Majesty ready?

Tigr.

There is the Lady, Captain.

Bes.

  Sweet Lady, by your leave, I co[u]ld wish my self more full of
  Courtship for your fair sake.

Spa.

Sir I shall feel no want of that.

Bes.

Lady, you must hast, I have received new letters from the King that require more hast than I expected, he will follow me suddenly himself, and begins to call for your Majesty already.

Tigr.

He shall not do so long.

Bes.

Sweet Lady, shall I call you my Charge hereafter?

Spa.

I will not take upon me to govern your tongue Sir, you shall call me what you please.

Actus Secundus.

Enter Gobrias, Bacurius, Arane, Panthe, and Mandane, Waiting-women with Attendants.

Gob.

My Lord Bacurius, you must have regard unto the Queen, she is your prisoner, 'tis at your peril if she make escape.

Bac.

My Lord, I know't, she is my prisoner from you committed; yet she is a woman, and so I keep her safe, you will not urge me to keep her close, I shall not shame to say I sorrow for her.

Gob.

So do I my Lord; I sorrow for her, that so little grace doth govern her: that she should stretch her arm against her King, so little womanhood and natural goodness, as to think the death of her own Son.

Ara.

Thou knowst the reason why, dissembling as thou art, and wilt not speak.

Gob.

  There is a Lady takes not after you,
  Her Father is within her, that good man
  Whose tears weigh'd down his sins, mark how she weeps,
  How well it does become her, and if you
  Can find no disposition in your self
  To sorrow, yet by gracefulness in her
  Find out the way, and by your reason weep:
  All this she does for you, and more she needs
  When for your self you will not lose a tear,
  Think how this want of grief discredits you,
  And you will weep, because you cannot weep.

Ara.

You talk to me as having got a time fit for your purpose; but you should be urg'd know I know you speak not what you think.

Pan.

  I would my heart were Stone, before my softness
  Against my mother, a more troubled thought
  No Virgin bears about; should I excuse
  My Mothers fault, I should set light a life
  In losing which, a brother and a King
  Were taken from me, if I seek to save
  That life so lov'd, I lose another life
  That gave me being, I shall lose a Mother,
  A word of such a sound in a childs ears
  That it strikes reverence through it; may the will
  Of heaven be done, and if one needs must fall,
  Take a poor Virgins life to answer all.

Ara.

  But Gobrias let us talk, you know this fault
  Is not in me as in another Mother.

Gob.

I know it is not.

Ara.

Yet you make it so.

Gob.

Why, is not all that's past beyond your help?

Ara.

I know it is.

Gob.

  Nay should you publish it before the world,
  Think you 'twould be believ'd?

Ara.

I know it would not.

Gob.

Nay should I joyn with you, should we not both be torn and yet both die uncredited?

Ara.

  I think we should.
Gob.

  Why then take you such violent courses? As for me I do but right
  in saving of the King from all your plots.

Ara.

The King?

Gob.

  I bad you rest with patience, and a time
  Would come for me to reconcile all to
  Your own content, but by this way you take
  Away my power, and what was done unknown,
  Was not by me but you: your urging being done
  I must preserve my own, but time may bring
  All this to light, and happily for all.

Ara.

  Accursed be this over curious brain
  That gave that plot a birth, accurst this womb
  That after did conceive to my disgrace.

Bac.

My Lord Protector, they say there are divers Letters come from Armenia, that Bessus has done good service, and brought again a day, by his particular valour, receiv'd you any to that effect?

Gob.

Yes, 'tis most certain.

Bac.

  I'm sorry for't, not that the day was won,
  But that 'twas won by him: we held him here
  A Coward, he did me wrong once, at which I laugh'd,
  And so did all the world, for nor I,
  Nor any other held him worth my sword.

Enter Bessus and Spaconia.

Bes.

  Health to my Protector; from the King
  These Letters; and to your grace Madam, these.

Gob.

How does his Majesty?

Bes.

  As well as conquest by his own means and his valiant
  C[o]mmanders can make him; your letters will tell you all.

Pan.

  I will not open mine till I do know
  My Brothers health: good Captain is he well?

Bes.

As the rest of us that fought are.

Pan.

But how's that? is he hurt?

Bes.

He's a strange souldier that gets not a knock.

Pan.

  I do not ask how strange that souldier is
  That gets no hurt, but whether he have one.

Bes.

He had divers.

Pan.

And is he well again?

Bes.