Pan. Reserve me to a greater end, Spaconia;
Bacurius cannot want so much good manners
As to deny your gentle visitation,
Though you came only with your own command.

Spa. I know they will deny me, gracious madam,
Being a stranger, and so little famed,
So utter empty of those excellencies
That tame authority: But in you, sweet lady,
All these are natural; beside, a power
Derived immediate from your royal brother,
Whose least word in you may command the kingdom.

Pan. More than my word, Spaconia, you shall carry,
For fear it fail you.

Spa. Dare you trust a token?
Madam, I fear I am grown too bold a beggar.

Pan. You are a pretty one; and, trust me, lady,
It joys me I shall do a good to you,
Though to myself I never shall be happy.
Here, take this ring, and from me as a token
Deliver it: I think they will not stay you.
So, all your own desires go with you, lady!

Spa. And sweet peace to your grace!

Pan, Pray Heaven, I find it!

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.—A Prison.

TIGRANES is discovered.

Tigr. Fool that I am! I have undone myself,
And with my own hand turn’d my fortune round,
That was a fair one. I have childishly
Play’d with my hope so long, till I have broke it,
And now too late I mourn for’t. Oh, Spaconia!
Thou hast found an even way to thy revenge now.
Why didst thou follow me, like a faint shadow,
To wither my desires? But, wretched fool,
Why did I plant thee ’twixt the sun and me,
To make me freeze thus! why did I prefer her
To the fair princess? Oh, thou fool, thou fool,
Thou family of fools, live like a slave still!
And in thee bear thine own hell and thy torment;
Thou hast deserved it. Couldst thou find no lady,
But she that has thy hopes, to put her to,
And hazard all thy peace? none to abuse,
But she that loved thee ever, poor Spaconia?
And so much loved thee, that, in honesty
And honour, thou art bound to meet her virtues!
She, that forgot the greatness of her grief
And miseries, that must follow such mad passions,
Endless and wild in women! she, that for thee,
And with thee, left her liberty, her name,
And country! You have paid me equal, heavens,
And sent my own rod to correct me with,
A woman! For inconstancy I’ll suffer;
Lay it on, justice, till my soul melt in me,
For my unmanly, beastly, sudden doting,
Upon a new face; after all my oaths,
Many, and strange ones.
I feel my old fire flame again and burn
So strong and violent, that, should I see her
Again, the grief, and that, would kill me.

Enter BACURIUS and SPACONIA.

Bac. Lady,
Your token I acknowledge; you may pass;
There is the king.

Spa. I thank your lordship for it.

[Exit Bacurius.

Tigr. She comes, she comes! Shame hide me ever from her!
’Would I were buried, or so far removed
Light might not find me out! I dare not see her.

Spa. Nay, never hide yourself! Or, were you hid
Where earth hides all her riches, near her centre,
My wrongs, without more day, would light me to you:
I must speak ere I die. Were all your greatness
Doubled upon you, you’re a perjured man,
And only mighty in your wickedness
Of wronging women! Thou art false, false, prince.
I live to see it: poor Spaconia lives
To tell thee thou art false; and then no more!
She lives to tell thee, thou art more inconstant
Than all ill women ever were together.
Thy faith is firm as raging