why should I keep
A breast to harbour thoughts? I dare not speak.
Darkness is in my bosom, and there lie
A thousand thoughts that cannot brook the light:
How wilt thou vex 'em when this deed is done,
Conscience, that art afraid to let me name it?

_Mar_.

How do you Sir?

_Arb_.

Why very well _Mardonius_, how dost thou do?

_Mar_.

Better than you I fear.

_Arb_.

I hope thou art; for to be plain with thee,
Thou art in Hell else, secret scorching flames
That far transcend earthly material fires
Are crept into me, and there is no cure.
Is it not strange _Mardonius_, there's no cure?

_Mar_.

Sir, either I mistake, or there is something hid
That you would utter to me.

_Arb_.

So there is, but yet I cannot do it.

_Mar_.

Out with it Sir, if it be dangerous, I will not shrink to do you
service, I shall not esteem my life a weightier matter than
indeed it is, I know it is subject to more chances than it has
hours, and I were better lose it in my Kings cause, than with an
ague, or a fall, or sleeping, to a Thief; as all these are
probable enough: let me but know what I shall do for you.

_Arb_.

It will not out: were you with _Gobrias_,
And bad him give my Sister all content
The place affords, and give her leave to send
And speak to whom she please?

_Mar_.

Yes Sir, I was.

_Arb_.

And did you to _Bacurius_ say as much
About _Tigranes_?

_Mar_.

Yes.

_Arb_.

That's all my business.

_Mar_.

O say not so,
You had an answer of this before;
Besides I think this business might
Be utter'd more carelesly.

_Arb_.

Come thou shalt have it out, I do beseech thee
By all the love thou hast profest to me,
To see my Sister from me.

_Mar_.

Well, and what?

_Arb_.

That's all.

_Mar_.

That's strange, I shall say nothing to her?

_Arb_.

Not a word;
But if thou lovest me, find some subtil way
To make her understand by signs.

_Mar_.

But what shall I make her understand?

_Arb_.

O _Mardonius_, for that I must be pardon'd.

_Mar_.

You may, but I can only see her then.

_Arb_.

'Tis true;
Bear her this Ring then, and
One more advice, thou shall speak to her:
Tell her I do love My kindred all: wilt thou?

_Mar_.

Is there no more?

_Arb_.

O yes and her the best;
Better than any Brother loves his Sister: That's all.

_Mar_.

Methink