A King, and No King - LightNovelsOnl.com
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This is better Than if you had not frown'd, it comes to me, Like mercie at the block, and when I leave To serve you with my life, your curse be with me.
_Arb_.
Then thus I do salute thee, and again, To make this knot the stronger, Paradise Is there: It may be you are yet in doubt, This third kiss blots it out, I wade in sin, And foolishly intice my self along; Take her away, see her a prisoner In her own chamber closely, _Gobrias_.
_Pan_.
Alas Sir, why?
_Arb_.
I must not stay the answer, doe it.
_Gob_.
Good Sir.
_Arb_.
No more, doe it I say.
_Mard_.
This is better and better.
_Pan_.
Yet hear me speak.
_Arb_.
I will not hear you speak, Away with her, let no man think to speak For such a creature; for she is a witch, A prisoner, and a Traitor.
_Gob_.
Madam, this office grieves me.
_Pan_.
Nay, 'tis well the king is pleased with it.
_Arb_.
_Bessus_, go you along too with her; I will prove All this that I have said, if I may live So long; but I am desperately sick, For she has given me poison in a kiss; She had't betwixt her lips, and with her eyes She witches people: go without a word.
[_Exeunt_ Gob. Pan. Bes. _And_ s.p.a.conia.
Why should you that have made me stand in war Like fate it self, cutting what threds I pleas'd, Decree such an unworthy end of me, And all my glories? What am I, alas, That you oppose me? if my secret thoughts Have ever harbour'd swellings against you, They could not hurt you, and it is in you To give me sorrow, that will render me Apt to receive your mercy; rather so, Let it be rather so, than punish me With such unmanly sins: Incest is in me Dwelling already, and it must be holy That pulls it thence, where art _Mardonius_?
_Mar_.
Here Sir.
_Arb_.
I pray thee bear me, if thou canst, Am I not grown a strange weight?
_Mar_.
As you were.
_Arb_.
No heavier?
_Mar_.
No Sir.
_Arb_.
Why, my legs Refuse to bear my body; O _Mardonius_, Thou hast in field beheld me, when thou knowst I could have gone, though I could never run.
_Mar_.
And so I shall again.
_Arb_.
O no, 'tis past.
_Mar_.
Pray you go rest your self.
_Arb_.
Wilt thou hereafter when they talk of me, As thou shalt hear nothing but infamy, Remember some of those things?
_Mar_.
Yes I will.
_Arb_.
I pray thee do: for thou shalt never see me so again.
[_Exeunt_.
