Mar. ‘Tis heathenishly done of ’em; in my conscience, thou deserv’st it not.

Bes. I ha’ done good service.

Mar. I do not know how thou may’st wait of a man in’s chamber, or thy agility in shifting a trencher; but otherwise no service, good Bessus.

Bes. You saw me do the service yourself.

Mar. Not so hasty, sweet Bessus! Where was it? is the place vanish’d?

Bes. At Bessus’ Desperate Redemption.

Mar. At Bessus’ Desperate Redemption! where’s that?

Bes. There, where I redeem’d the day; the place bears my name.

Mar. Pr’ythee who christen’d it?

Bes. The soldier.

Mar. If I were not a very merrily disposed man, what would become of thee? One that had but a grain of choler inthe whole composition of his body, would send thee of an errand to the worms, for putting thy name upon that field: Did not I beat thee there, i’th’ head o’th’troops, with a truncheon, because thou wouldst needs run away with thy company, when we should charge the enemy?

Bes. True; but I did not run.

Mar. Right, Bessus: I beat thee out on’t.

Bes. But came not I up when the day was gone, and redeem’d all?

Mar. Thou knowest, and so do I, thou meant’st to fly, and thy fear making thee mistake, thou ran’st upon the enemy; and a hot charge thou gavest; as, I’ll do thee right, thou art furious 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.

Bes. You’ll never leave this till I fall foul.

Mar. No more such words, dear Bessus; for though I have ever known thee a coward, and therefore durst never strike thee, yet if thou proceed’st, I will allow thee valiant, and beat thee.

Bes. Come, our king’s a brave fellow.

Mar. He is so, Bessus; I wonder how thou com’st to know it. But, if thou wert a man of understanding, I would tell thee, he is vain-glorious and humble, and angry and patient, and merry and dull, and joyful and sorrowful, in extremities, in an 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.

Enter Arbaces, Tigranes, two Gentlemen, and Attendants.

Arb. Thy sadness, brave Tigranes, takes away
From my full victory: Am I become
Of so small fame, that any man should grieve
When I o’ercome him? They that placed me here,
Intended it an honour, large enough
For the most valiant living, but to dare
Oppose me single, though he lost the day.
What should afflict you? You are as free as I.
To be my prisoner, is to be more free
Than you were formerly. And never think,
The man, I held worthy to combat me,
Shall be used servilely. Thy ransom is,
To take my only sister to thy wife:
A heavy one, Tigranes; for she is
A lady, that the neighbour princes send
Blanks to