MARDONIUS

B Essus, the KING has made a fair hand on't, has ended the wars at a blow, would my sword had a close basket hilt to hold wine, and the blade would make knives, for we shall have nothing but eating and drinking. I think thou lovest them better then quarreling Bess S, He say so much ythy behalf, and yet thou art valiant enough upon a retreat, I think thou wouldst kill any man that stopped thee, and thou couldst. Why, didst thou see't? I did so, but me thought thou with kst every blow they strake. By my troth I think so too Bessus, many a thousand, but c rtenly all that are worse then thou ave eene as much. Yes, if he had not ended the wars, I am glad thou darest talk of such dangerous businesses. See how thy blood cruddles at this, I think thou wouldst be contented to be beaten in this passion. I. Um, no venture neither good Bessus. Why art thou famed for any valour? I am very heartily glad on't. I have been with thee ever since thou camest ath' wars, and this is the first word that ever I herd on't, prithee who fame's thee? 'Tis heathenishly done of them, in my conscience thou deferu'st it not. I do not know how thou mayest wait of a man in's Chamber, or thy agility in shifting a trencher, but otherwise no service good Bessus. Not so hasty sweet Bessus, where was it, is the place vanished. Bessus desperate redemption, where's that. Prithee who christened it. If I were not a very merely disposed man, what would become of thee: one that had but a grain of collar in the whole composition of his body would send thee of and errand to the worms, for putting thy name upon that field: did not I Beatrice thee there yth head, a'th troops with a trun chion, because thou wouldst needs run away with thy come pany, when we should charge the enemy. Right Bessus, I Beatrice thee out on't. Thou knowest, and so do I, thou meanest to fly, and thy fear making thee mistake, thou ranst upon the enemy, and a hight charge thou gavest, as I'll do thee right, thou art surious in running away, and I think we owe thy fear for our victory. If I were the King, and were sure thou wouldst mistake always, and run away upon the enemy, thou shouldst be General by this light. No more such words deer Bessus: for though I have ever known thee a coward, and therefore durst never strike thee; yet if thou proceedst, I will allow thee valiant, and beat thee. He is so Bessus, I wonder how thou comest to know it: But if thou Wertenberg a man of understanding, I would tell thee he is vainglorious, and humble, and angry, and patient, and merry, and dull, and joyful, and sorrowful, in extremities in and hour: Do not think me thy friend for this, for if I cared who knew it, thou shouldst not hear it Bessus: here he is with the prey in his foot. In deed this is none? So you do: Its pity that valour should be thus drunk. I do I'll be sworn. Thy Valour and thy passion severed, would have made two excellent fellows in their kinds: I know not whither I should be sorry thou art so vam liant, or so passionate would one of um were away. And yet you Conquered him? When Wertenberg thou other? Like a Taylor at a wake. By my Troth thou wouldst have sunk um both out oath lifts. what contry-fence-schoole didst thou learn that at? Why you did, and you have talked enough on't. Truth will offend you. You told Tigranes, you had wone his Land With that sole arm propped by Divinity: Was not that bragging, and a wrong to us That daily venturoe lives? Sir. Sir, shall I speak? But will you hear me out? Sir, that I have ever loved you, my sword hath spo ken for me, that I do, if it be doubted, I dare call and oath a great one to my witness: and were you not my King, from amongst men, I should have chosen you out to love above the rest:nor can this challenge thanks: for my own sake I should have doted, because I would have loved the most deserving man, for so you are. Though you have all this worth, you hold some qualities that do eclipse your virtues. Yes your passion, which are so manifold, that they appear even in this: when I commend you, you hug me for that truth: when I speak of your faults, you make a start, and fly the hearing: but, How ever you will use me after, yet for your own promise sake hear me the rest. would you but leave these hasty tempers, which I do not say take from you all your worth, but darken um, then you would shine indeed. Yet I would have you keep some passion, least men should take you for a God, your virtues are such. I never understood the word, were you no King, & free from these wild moods, should I choose a companion for wit and pleasure, it should be you, or for honest to en terchange my bos me with, it would be you; or wisdom to to give me counsel, I would pick out you: or vallor to defend my reputation, still I would find out you, for you are fit to fight for all the world, if it could come in question: Now I have spoke, consider to your self, find out a use? if so, then what shall fallen to me is not material. why it's no matter Sir: why at the taking of a Town. wench, they res ect not me, Ime old and rough, and every limb about me, but that which should grows stiffer: lth those businesses I may swear I am to vely honest: for I pay justly for what I take, and would be glad to be at a certainty. I by this light do they. You faith. I, ten shillings to me, every new young fellow they come aequainted with. Why I think I must petition to you. Your price? That may be more then I am worth. His blood goes back as fast: He alters strangely. This is strange, Sir, how do you? Is she dead? Sir let her bear her sins on her own head, Vex not your self. I never saw such sudden extremities. 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 loved respect. What is he mad? 'Slight there, are you blind? Oh this is fine. Thou shouldst be hanged. Is she so again, thats well: He has one ransom with him already, me thinks it good to fight double, or quit. This is better and better. Here Sir. As you were. And so I shall again. Pray you go, rest your self. Yes, I will. I warrant you. I'll moan the King, he is most strangely altered; I guess the cause I fear too right, Heaven has some secret end in't, and 'tis a securge no question justly laid upon him: He has followed me through twenty rooms, and ever when I stay to await his command, he blushes Like a girl, and looks upon me, as if modesty kept in his business: so turns away from me, but if I go on, he follows me again. See, here he is, I do not use this, yet I know not how, I cannot choose but weep to see him: his very enemies I think, whose wounds have bred his fame, if they should see him now, would find tears in their eyes. How do you Sir? Better then you I fear. Sir, either I mistake, or there is something hid That you would utter to me. Out with it Sir, I it be dangerous I shall not shrink to do you service, I shall no est e my life a weightier mat ter then indeed it is, I n w 'tis subi ct to more chances then it hath How es, and I were better lose it in my King cause, then with and gue. or fallen, or sleepin to a Thy e; as all these are ro able eno g : let me ut know would I shall do foryou. Yes Sir I was. Yes. Well, and what? But what what S oh ld I make her understand? You may, but I can only see her then. Me thinks this Need not have been delivered with such caution; I'll do it. Sir if I take upon me to deliver it, After I hear it, He pass through fire to do it I hope I do not Sir. Why, I think she does. Why, I think there are few wives that love their Husbands better then she does you. Yes, there's your Ring again; what have I done Dishonestly in my whole life, name it That you should put so base a business to me? Yes if I undertook it; but if all My heirs were lives, I would not be engaged In such a cause oh save my last life. Pray God you may be so: you must understand, no thing that you can utter, can remove my love and service from my Prince. But otherwise, I think I shall not love you more. For you are sinful, and if you do this crime, you ought to have no laws. For after this it will be great inium stice in you to punish any offendor for any crime: For my self I find my heart too big, I feel I have not patience to look on while you run these forbidden courses: Means I have none but your Favour, and I am ather glad, that I shall lose um both together then keep um with such con ditions, I shall find a dwelling amongst some people, where though our garments perhaps be courser, we shall be richer are within, and harbour no such vices in um. God preserve you, and mend you. There. Away you Fool the King is serious, And cannot now admit your vanities. I am glad ont'. If your enemies brought it to that, your enemies are cutlers, Come, leave the King. Sir. Indeed you are fitter for his present purpose. This combat has undone him: If he had been well beaten, he had been temperate: I shall never see him handsome again, till he have a Horseman's staff poak't through his shoulders, or and arm broke with a Bullet. Now the clap comes. 'Tis well said by my Soul. would I might do so. Would Bessus were here to take her aside and search her, he would quickly tell you what she carried Sir. Sir, have you done well now? No. I have no letters Sir to anger you, But a dry sonnet of my Corporals To and old Saddlers wife, and that I'll burn Sir: 'Tis Like to prove a fine age for the Ignorant. Yes, and I know you wonnot, or if you do, yowl miss it quickly. Who shall then tell you of these childish follies When I am dead? Who shall put to his power To draw those virtues out of a flood of humours Where they are drowned, and make um shine again? No cut my head off: do, kill me: Then you may talk, and be believed, and grow, And have your too selfe-glorious temper rot Into a dead sleep, and the kingdom with you, Like foreign swords be in your throats, and slaughter Be every where about you Like your flatterers. Do, kill me. There comes a good man, love him too, he's tempe rate, You may live to have needs of such a virtue, Rage is not still in fashion. This love, or what a devil is it, I know not, be gets more mischief then a wake. I had rather be we I beaten starved, or lousy, then live within the air ont. He that had seen this brave fellow charge through a grove of pikes but tother day, and look upon him now, will never believe his eyes again; If he continue thus but two days more, a Taylor may Beatrice him with one hand tied behind him. SIR, the King has seen your Commission, and eleeu S it, and freely by this warrant gives you leave to visit Prince Tigranes your noble Master. But is the main of all your business Ended in this? You serve a worthy person, and a stranger I am sure you are; you may employ me if you please, without your purse, such Office should ever be their own rewards. I may have need of you, and then this courtesy, If it be any, is not ill bestowed: But may I civilly desire the rest? I shall not be a hurter, if no helper. Stay there Sir: If he have reached the noble worth of Captain, He may well claim a worthy gentlewoman, Though she were yours, and noble. I confess such fellows Be in all royal Camps, and have, and must be To make the of coward more detested In the mean Soldier, that with such a foil Sets of much valour: By description I should now guess him to you. It was Bessus, I dare almost with confidence pronounce it. Captain, do you call him? Believe me Sir, you have a misery Too mighty for your age: A pox upon him, 2 pages missing You a valiant fellow for all this. How do you Sir? why Sir are you thus? why does your hand proclaim a lawless war Against your self? Sir he is. You are more variable then you were. To day no Hermit could be humblier Then you were to us all. And now you take new rage into your eyes, As you would look us all out of the Land. Sir I will speak. It is my duty, I fear you will kill your self: I am a subject, And you shall do me wrong in't: 'tis my cause, And I may speak. I am sorry 'tis so ill. I pray you let me see your sword put up Before I go; I'll leave you then. God put into your bosom temperate thoughts, I'll leave you though I fear. Is that so good news? Indeed it well for you, If you might be a little less obeyed. Why she is there. So it should seem: My Lord, What furi's this. We will: but you are not found So mean a man, but that you may be covered As well as we, may you not? Where? Sir, Tigranes is coming though he made it strange To see the Princess any more. Sir, you did promise you would hear me out. Is there no more? Faith Bes. such continued ̄ manders as thou may, I had as live set thee Perdue for a pudding yth dark, as Alexander the great. These are sweet people. No Sir. Oh say not so, You had and answer of all this before, Beside, I that n e this business might be uttered More carelessly. That's strange, shall I say nothing to her? If this hold 'twill be and ill world for Bawds, Cham ber-maids, and post-bois, I thank God I have none but his letters patents, things of his own inditing. 'Tis very strange. His fit begins to take him now again 'Tis a strange Fever, and 'twill shake us all Anon I fear; would he were well cured of this raging folly: Give me the wars, where men are mad, and may talk what they list, and held the bravest Fellows; This pelting prat ling peace is good for nothing: drinking's a virtue to it: This would make a Saint swear Like a Soldier, and a Soldier Like termogant. What Tragedy is never? That hand was never wont to draw a Sword, But it cried dead to something: Sir, heres Ligones The Agent for the Armenian King. Shall he go on's head?