O 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 news 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 rul'd; 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 Gent, _and_ Tigranes. _1 Gent_. Sir, here is the _Armenian_ King. _Arb_. He's welcome. _1 Gent_. And the Queen-mother, and the Princess wait without. _Arb_. Good _Gobrias_ bring 'em in. _Tigranes_, you will think you are arriv'd In a strange Land, where Mothers cast to poyson Their only Sons; think you you shall be safe? _Tigr_. Too safe I am Sir. _Enter_ Gobrias, Arane, Panthea, Spaconia, Bacurius, Mardonius _and_ Bessus, _and two Gentlemen_. _ Ara_. As low as this I bow to you, and would As low as is my grave, to shew a mind Thankful for all your mercies. _Arb_. O stand up, And let me kneel, the light will be asham'd To see observance done to me by you. _ Ara_. You are my King. _Arb_. You are my Mother, rise; As far be all your faults from your own soul, As from my memory; then you shall be As white as innocence her self. _ Ara_. I came Only to shew my duty, and acknowledge My sorrows for my sins; longer to stay Were but to draw eyes more attentively Upon my shame, that power that kept you safe From me, preserve you still. _Arb_. Your own desires shall be your guide. [_Exit_ Arane. _Pan_. Now let me die, since I have seen my Lord the King Return in safetie, I have seen all good that life Can shew me; I have ne're another wish For Heaven to grant, nor were it fit I should; For I am bound to spend my age to come, In giving thanks that this was granted me. _Gob_. Why does not your Majesty speak? _Arb_. To whom? _Gob_. To the Princess. _Pan_. Alas Sir, I am fearful, you do look On me, as if I were some loathed thing That you were finding out a way to shun. _Gob_. Sir, you should speak to her. _Arb_. Ha? _Pan_. I know I am unworthy, yet not ill arm'd, with which innocence here I will kneel, till I am one with earth, but I will gain some words and kindness from you. _Tigr_. Will you speak Sir? _Arb_.