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Read books online » Drama » A King, and No King by Francis Beaumont & John Fletcher (read me like a book TXT) 📖

Book online «A King, and No King by Francis Beaumont & John Fletcher (read me like a book TXT) 📖». Author Francis Beaumont & John Fletcher



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for: I fight for all the world? Give me a sword, and thou wilt go as far beyond me, as thou art beyond in years, I know thou dar'st and wilt; it troubles me that I should use so rough a phrase to thee, impute it to my folly, what thou wilt, so thou wilt par[d]on me: that thou and I should differ thus!

Mar.

Why 'tis no matter Sir.

Arb.

Faith but it is, but thou dost ever take all things I do, thus patiently, for which I never can requite thee, but with love, and that thou shalt be sure of. Thou and I have not been merry lately: pray thee tell me where hadst thou that same jewel in thine ear?

Mar.

Why at the taking of a Town.

Arb.

A wench upon my life, a wench Mardonius gave thee that jewel.

Mar.

Wench! they respect not me, I'm old and rough, and every limb about me, but that which should, grows stiffer, I'those businesses I may swear I am truly honest: for I pay justly for what I take, and would be glad to be at a certainty.

Arb.

Why, do the wenches encroach upon thee?

Mar.

I by this light do they.

Arb.

Didst thou sit at an old rent with 'em?

Mar.

Yes faith.

Arb.

And do they improve themselves?

Mar.

I ten shillings to me, every new young fellow they come acquainted with.

Arb.

How canst live on't?

Mar.

Why I think I must petition to you.

Arb.

Thou shalt take them up at my price.

Enter two Gentlemen and Bessus.

Mar.

Your price?

Arb.

I at the Kings price.

Mar.

That may be more than I'me worth.

2 Gent.

Is he not merry now?

1 Gent.

I think not.

Bes.

He is, he is: we'l shew our selves.

Arb.

Bessus, I thought you had been in Iberia by this, I bad you hast; Gobrias will want entertainment for me.

Bes.

And please your Majesty I have a sute.

Arb.

Is't not lousie Bessus, what is't?

Bes.

I am to carry a Lady with me.

Arb.

Then thou hast two sutes.

Bes.

And if I can prefer her to the Lady Pentha your Majesties Sister, to learn fashions, as her friends term it, it will be worth something to me.

Arb.

So many nights lodgings as 'tis thither, wilt not?

Bes.

I know not that Sir, but gold I shall be sure of.

Arb.

Why thou shalt bid her entertain her from me, so thou wilt resolve me one thing.

Bes.

If I can.

Arb.

Faith 'tis a very disputable question, and yet I think thou canst decide it.

Bes.

Your Majesty has a good opinion of my understanding.

Arb.

I have so good an opinion of it: 'tis whether thou be valiant.

Bes.

Some body has traduced me to you: do you see this sword Sir?

Arb.

Yes.

Bes.

If I do not make my back-biters eat it to a knife within this week, say I am not valiant.

Enter a Messenger.

Mes.

Health to your Majesty.

Arb.

From Gobrias?

Mes.

Yes Sir.

Arb.

How does he, is he well?

Mes.

In perfect health.

Arb.

Take that for thy good news. A trustier servant to his Prince there lives not, than is good Gobrias.

1 Gent.

The King starts back.

Mar.

His blood goes back as fast.

2 Gent. And now it comes again.

Mar.

He alters strangely.

Arb.

The hand of Heaven is on me, be it far from me to struggle, if my secret sins have pull'd this curse upon me, lend me tears now to wash me white, that I may feel a child-like innocence within my breast; which once perform'd, O give me leave to stand as fix'd as constancy her self, my eyes set here unmov'd, regardless of the world though thousand miseries incompass me.

Mar.

This is strange, Sir, how do you?

Arb.

Mardonius, my mother.

Mar.

Is she dead?

Arb.

Alas she's not so happy, thou dost know how she hath laboured since my Father died to take by treason hence this loathed life, that would but be to serve her, I have pardoned, and pardoned, and by that have made her fit to practise new sins, not repent the old: she now had stirr'd a slave to come from thence, and strike me here, whom Gobrias sifting out, took and condemn'd and executed there, the carefulst servant: Heaven let me but live to pay that man; Nature is poor to me, that will not let me have as many deaths as are the times that he hath say'd my life, that I might dye 'em over all for him.

Mar.

Sir let her bear her sins on her own head, Vex not your self.

Arb.

What will the world Conceive of me? with what unnatural sins Will they suppose me loaden, when my life Is sought by her that gave it to the world? But yet he writes me comfort here, my Sister, He saies, is grown in beauty and in grace. In all the innocent vertues that become A tender spotless maid: she stains her cheeks With morning tears to purge her mothers ill, And 'mongst that sacred dew she mingles Prayers Her pure Oblations for my safe return: If I have lost the duty of a Son, If any pomp or vanity of state Made me forget my natural offices, Nay farther, if I have not every night Expostulated with my wandring thoughts, If ought unto my parent they have err'd, And call'd 'em back: do you direct her arm Unto this foul dissembling heart of mine: But if I have been just to her, send out Your power to compass me, and hold me safe From searching treason; I will use no means But prayer: for rather suffer me to see From mine own veins issue a deadly flood, Than wash my danger off with mothers blood.

Mar.

I n'ere saw such suddain extremities.

[Exeunt.

Enter Tigranes and Spaconia.

Tigr.

Why? wilt thou have me die Spaconia. What should I do?

Spa.

Nay let me stay alone, And when you see Armenia again, You shall behold a Tomb more worth than I; Some friend that ever lov'd me or my cause, Will build me something to distinguish me From other women, many a weeping verse He will lay on, and much lament those maids, That plac'd their loves unfortunately high, As I have done, where they can never reach; But why should you go to Iberia?

Tigr.

Alas, that thou wilt ask me, ask the man That rages in a Fever why he lies Distempered there, when all the other youths Are coursing o're the Meadows with their Loves? Can I resist it? am I not a slave To him that conquer'd me?

Spa.

That conquer'd thee Tigranes! he has won But half of thee, thy body, but thy mind May be as free as his, his will did never Combate thine, and take it prisoner.

Tigr.

But if he by force convey my body hence, What helps it me or thee to be unwilling?

Spa.

O Tigranes, I know you are to see a Lady there, To see, and like I fear: perhaps the hope Of her make[s] you forget me, ere we part, Be happier than you know to wish; farewel.

Tigr.

Spaconia, stay and hear me what I say: In short, destruction meet me that I may See it, and not avoid it, when I leave To be thy faithful lover: part with me Thou shalt not, there are none that know our love, And I have given gold unto a Captain That goes unto Iberia from the King, That he will place a Lady of our Land With the Kings Sister that is offered me; Thither shall you, and being once got in Perswade her by what subtil means you can To be as backward in her love as I.

Spa.

Can you imagine that a longing maid When she beholds you, can be pull'd away With words from loving you?

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.

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