A King, and No King. Beaumont Francis

shall we go? all's done.

      Wom.

      I for God sake, I have not made a fire yet.

      2.

      Away, away, all's done.

      3.

      Content, farewel Philip.

      1 Cit.

      Away you halter-sack you.

      2.

      Philip will not fight, he's afraid on's face.

      Phil.

      I marry am I afraid of my face.

      3.

      Thou wouldst be Philip if thou sawst it in a glass; it looks so like a Visour.

      [Exeunt 2., 3., and Woman.

      1 Cit.

      You'l be hang'd sirra: Come Philip walk before us homewards; did not his Majesty say he had brought us home Pease for all our money?

      2 Cit.

      Yes marry did he.

      1 Cit.

      They're the first I heard of this year by my troth, I longed for some of 'em: did he not say we should have some?

      2 Cit.

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

      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 fit: 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,

      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 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.

      Tigranes, you will think you are arriv'd

      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