Читать книгу A King, and No King - Beaumont Francis - Страница 4
Actus Tertius
ОглавлениеEnter 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 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: 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 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,
