SCENE I.Iberia. A Room in the Palace.
Enter 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.
she marry with some slave at home?
Gob. Oh, she is far from any stubbornness;
You much mistake her; and, no doubt, will like
Where you will
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 a 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,
should be forced to have him, when I know
Tis fit. I will not hear her say, shes 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
that died for me, if he could live
Arb. She is not like her mother, then.
Gob. Oh, 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
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 ruled.
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 Gentleman and TIGRANES.
1 Gent. Sir, here is the Armenian king.
Arb. Hes welcome. 1 Gent. And the queen-mother and the princess wait