Indeed this is none.

Arb.

  Tigranes, Nay did I but take delight
  To stretch my deeds as others do, on words,
  I could amaze my hearers.

Mar.

So you do.

Arb.

  But he shall wrong his and my modesty,
  That thinks me apt to boast after any act
  Fit for a good man to do upon his foe. 
  A little glory in a souldiers mouth
  Is well-becoming, be it far from vain.

Mar.

  ’Tis pity that valour should be thus drunk.

Arb.

  I offer you my Sister, and you answer
  I do insult, a Lady that no suite
  Nor treasure, nor thy Crown could purchase thee,
  But that thou fought’st with me.

Tigr.

  Though this be worse
  Than that you spake before, it strikes me not;
  But that you think to overgrace me with
  The marriage of your Sister, troubles me. 
  I would give worlds for ransoms were they mine,
  Rather than have her.

Arb.

  See if I insult
  That am the Conquerour, and for a ransom
  Offer rich treasure to the Conquered,
  Which he refuses, and I bear his scorn: 
  It cannot be self-flattery to say,
  The Daughters of your Country set by her,
  Would see their shame, run home and blush to death,
  At their own foulness; yet she is not fair,
  Nor beautiful, those words express her not,
  They say her looks have something excellent,
  That wants a name:  yet were she odious,
  Her birth deserves the Empire of the world,
  Sister to such a brother, that hath ta’ne
  Victory prisoner, and throughout the earth,
  Carries her bound, and should he let her loose,
  She durst not leave him; Nature did her wrong,
  To Print continual conquest on her cheeks,
  And make no man worthy for her to taste
  But me that am too near her, and as strangely
  She did for me, but you will think I brag.

Mar.

I do I’le be sworn.  Thy valour and thy passions sever’d, would have made two excellent fellows in their kinds:  I know not whether I should be sorry thou art so valiant, or so passionate, wou’d one of ’em were away.

Tigr.

  Do I refuse her that I doubt her worth? 
  Were she as vertuous as she would be thought,
  So perfect that no one of her own sex
  Could find a want, had she so tempting fair,
  That she could wish it off for damning souls,
  I would pay any ransom, twenty lives
  Rather than meet her married in my bed. 
  Perhaps I have a love, where I have fixt
  Mine eyes not to be mov’d, and she on me,
  I am not fickle.

Arb.