Arb.

  I think you did, good Captain Bessus.

Bes.

  Here will arise another question now amongst the Sword-men,
  whether I be to call him to account for beating me, now he is
  proved no King.

  Enter Lygones.

Mar.

  Sir here’s Lygones, the agent for the Armenian_ State.

Arb.

  Where is he?  I know your business good Lygones.

Lyg.

  We must have our King again, and will.

Arb.

I knew that was your business:  you shall have your King again, and have him so again as never King was had, go one of you and bid Bacurius bring Tigranes hither; and bring the Lady with him, that Panthea, the Queen Panthea sent me word this [morning], was brave Tigranes mistress.

  [Ex. two Gent.

Lyg.

  ’Tis Spaconia.

Arb.

  I, I, Spaconia.

Lyg.

  She is my Daughter.

Arb.

  She is so:  I could now tell any thing I never heard:  your King
  shall go so home, as never man went.

Mar.

  Shall he go on’s head?

Arb.

He shall have chariots easier than air that I will have invented; and ne’re think one shall pay any ransome, and thy self that art the messenger, shalt ride before him on a horse cut out of an intire Diamond, that shall be made to go with golden wheeles, I know not how yet.

Lyg.

  Why I shall be made for ever? they beli’d this King with us, and
  said he was unkind.

Arb.

And then thy Daughter, she shall have some strange thing, wee’l have the Kingdom sold utterly, and put into a toy which she shall wear about her carelesly some where or other.  See the vertuous Queen; behold the humblest subject that you have kneel here before you.

  Enter Panthea And 1 Gent.

Pan.

  Why kneel you to me that am your Vassal?

Arb.

  Grant me one request.

Pan.

  Alas what can I grant you? what I can, I will.

Arb.

  That you will please to marry me if I can prove it lawfull.

Pan.

  Is that all? more willingly than I would draw this air.

Arb.

  I’le kiss this hand in earnest.

2 Gent.

  Sir, Tigranes is coming though he made it strange at first, to
  see the Princess any more.

  Enter Tigranes And Spaconia.

Arb.

  The Queen thou meanest, O my Tigranes.  Pardon me, tread on my
  neck, I freely offer it, and if thou beest so given take revenge,
  for I have injur’d thee.