SCENE I.Iberia. A Room in the Palace.
Enter ARBACES and GOBRIAS.
Arb. My sister take it ill?
Gob. Not very ill:
Arb. Why, Gobrias, let her: I must have her know,
Gob. Oh, she is far from any stubbornness;
Arb. To part with her? Why, Gobrias, art thou mad?
Gob. Sir, I know she is:
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,
Gob. Heaven, bring my purpose luckily to pass!
She loves you so.
Arb. How does she love me? Speak.
Gob. She loves you more than people love their health,
Arb. She is not like her mother, then.
Gob. Oh, no! When you were in Armenia,
Arb. Alas, poor soul! But yet she must be ruled.
Gob. Sir, I have.
Enter 1 Gentleman and TIGRANES.1 Gent. Sir, here is the Armenian king.
Arb. Hes welcome. 1 Gent. And the queen-mother and the princess wait
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