Arbaces, King of Iberia.

Tigranes, King of Armenia.

Gobrias, Lord Protector, and Father of Arbaces,

Ligones, Father of Spaconia.

Arane, the Queen's Mother.

Panthea, her Daughter.

Spaconia, a Lady, Daughter of Ligones.

Mandane, a Waiting-woman; and other Attendants.

Two Gentlemen.

Three Men and a Woman.

Philip, a Servant, and two Citizens Wives.

A Mellenger.

A Servant to Bacurius.

Two Sword-men.

A Boy.

SCENE, on the Frontiers of Armenia; and, afterwards, in the Metropolis of Iberia.

A KING

A KING, and No KING.

ACTI SCENE I.

B

Enter Mardonius and (1) Beffus.

MARDONIUS.

ESSUS, the King has made a fair Hand on't, he has ended the Wars at a Blow; 'Would my Sword had a clofe Basket Hilt to hold Wine, and the Blade would make Knives, for we fhall have nothing but eating and drinking. Bef. We, that are Commanders, fhall do well enough. Mar. 'Faith, Beffus, fuch Commanders as thou may; I had as lieve fet thee Perdue for a Pudding i' th' Dark, as Alexander the Great.

Bef. I love these Jefts exceedingly.

Mar. I think, thou lov'ft 'em better than quarrelling,' Beffus, I'll fay fo much i'thy Behalf; and yet thou'rt

(1) The Character of Beffus, I think, must be allow'd in general a fine Copy from SHAKESPEARE'S inimitable Falstaffe. He is a Coward, yet would fain set up for a Hero; Oftentatious, without any Grain of Merit to fupport his Vain glory; A Lyar throughout, to exalt his affumed Qualifications; and lewd, without any Countenance from the Ladies to give him an Umbrage for it. As to his Wit and Humour, the Precedence must certainly be adjudg'd to Falfaffe, the great Original.

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valiant enough upon a Retreat; I think, thou wouldst kill any Man that ftop'd thee, if thou couldít.

Bef. But was not this a brave Combate, Mardonius? Mar. Why, didft thou fee't?

Bef. You ftood wi' me.

Mar. I did fo; but, methought, thou wink'dft every Blow they ftruck.

Bef. Well, I believe, there are better Soldiers than I, that never faw two Princes fight in Lifts.

Mar. By my Troth, I think fo too, Beffus, many a Thoufand; but, certainly, all that are worse than thou have feen as much.

Bef. 'Twas bravely done of our King.

Mar. Yes, if he had not ended the Wars: I'm glad, thou dar'ft talk of fuch dangerous Bufineffes.

Bef. To take a Prince Prifoner in the Heart of's own Country in fingle Combat.

Mar. See, how thy Blood curdles at this; I think, thou couldft be contented to be beaten i' this Paffion.

Bef. Shall I tell you truly ?

Mar. Ay.

Bef. I could willingly venture for't.

Mar. Hum! no Venture neither, good Beffus.

Bef. Let me not live, if I do not think 'tis a braver Piece of Service than that I'm fo fam'd for.

Mar. Why, art thou fam'd for any Valour?
Bef. I fam'd! Ay, I warrant you.

Mar. I'm e'en heartily glad on't; I have been with thee e'er fince thou cam'ft to th' Wars, and this is the first Word that ever I heard on't; prithee, who fames thee?

Bef. The Chriftian World.

Mar. 'Tis heathenishly done of 'em, in my Conscience; thou deferv'dft it not.

Bef. Yes, I ha' done good Service.

Mar. I do not know how thou may'ft wait of a Man in's Chamber, or thy Agility in shifting a Trencher; but, otherwise, no Service, good Beffus.

Bef. You faw me do the Service yourself.

Mar. Not fo hafty, fweet Beffus, where was it, is the Place vanifh'd?

Bef.

Bref. At Beffus' defp'rate Redemption.

Mar. At Beffus' defp'rate Redemption, where's that? Bef. There, where I redeem'd the Day; the Place bears my Name.

Mar. Pray thee, who christened it?

Bef. The Soldiers.

Mar. If I were not a very merrily difpos'd Man, what would become of thee? One, that had but a Grain of Choler in the whole Compofition of his Body, would send thee of an Errand to the Worms for putting thy Name upon that field: Did not I beat thee there i' th' Head o' th' Troops with a Truncheon, because thou wouldst needs run away with thy Company, when we should charge the Enemy?

Bef. True; but I did not run.

• Mar. Right, Beffus, I beat thee out on't.

Bef. But came I not up when the Day was gone, and redeem'd all?

Mar. Thou knoweft, and fo do I, thou mean'dft to fly, and, thy Fear making thee mistake, thou ran'ft upon the Enemy, and a hot Charge thou gav'ft; as I'll do thee Right, thou art furious in running away, and, I think, we owe thy Fear for our Victory; If I were the King, and were fure thou wouldst mistake always and run away upon th' Enemy, thou fhouldft be General, by this Light.

Bef. You'll never leave this till I fall foul.

Mar. No more fuch Words, dear Beffus; for though I have ever known thee a Coward, and therefore durft never ftrike thee, yet if thou proceedeft, I will allow thee valiant, and beat thee.

Bef. Come, come, our King's a brave Fellow.

Mar. He is fo, Beffus; I wonder how thou cam'ft to know it. But if thou wert a Man of Understanding I would tell thee, (2) he is vain-glorious and humble, and angry

and

(2) He is vain-glorious, and bumble, and angry, and patient, and merry, and dull, and joyful, and forrowful, in Extremity in an Hour: ] Mardonius here has very exactly decypher'd the Character of the King. The flight Variation that I have made in the pointing, I think, gives us the Meaning of the Poets; viz. that Arbaces difplays the Contraft of all his Paflions, to their utmost pitch, in the compaís of an Hour. VOL. I. For,

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and patient, and merry and dull, and joyful and forrowful,
in Extremity, in an Hour: Do not think me thy Friend
for this, for, if I car'd who knew it, thou fhouldft not
hear it, Beffus. Here he is with his Prey in his Foot.
Enter Arbaces, Tigranes, and two Gentlemen.
Arb. Thy Sadnefs, brave Tigranes, takes away
From my full Victory: Am I become

Of fo fmall Fame, that any Man fhould grieve
When I o'ercome him? They, that plac'd me here,
Intended it an Honour large enough,

For the most valiant living, but to dare
Oppofe me fingle, though he loft the Day.
What fhould afflict you? you're as free as I;
To be my Prifoner, is to be more free
Than you were formerly; and never think,
The Man, I held worthy to combat me,
Shall be us❜d fervilely: Thy Ransom is
To take my only Sifter to thy Wife.
A heavy one, Tigranes, for the is
A Lady, that the Neighbour Princes fend
Blanks to fetch home. I have been too unkind
To her, Tigranes; fhe but nine Years old,

I left her, and ne'er faw her fince; your Wars
Have held me long, and taught me, though a Youth,
The way to Victory; fhe was a pretty Child,
Then I was little better; but now Fame

For, as Mardonius afterwards fays of him, this Comment is confirm'd;
I never far fuch fuddain Extremities.

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I ought to fubjoin Mr. Seward's Defence of this Play. "Mr. Rhy mer flings the moft virulent of all his Invectives against Othello and "Arbaces, falfly deeming all the Faults of thofe Characters to be fo many Charges against the Poets; whereas their Intent was not to paint Perfection but Human Nature, to blend the Virtues and Vices together, fo that both may fpring from the fame Temper, and, like bandjom and ill-favour'd Children, both ftill bear a Resemblance to their "Sire. To do this well is one of the highest Efforts of Poetry. Ar"baces, like his great Pattern Achilles, has Virtues and Vices in the Ex"treme. His Violence makes us expect fome dreadful Effect, and it "therefore foon hurries him into an Attempt to commit Inceft. He is to raife Terror and Anger, not Pity and Love; and Mr. Rhymer having the fame Choler in his Temper, ridiculoufly took fire, and furiously attack'd his own Shadow.

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