_2_.

Let her look to her self then, has she not had showing enough yet? if she stay shouldring here, she may haps go home with a cake in her belly.

_3_.

How now, goodman squitter-breech, why do you lean on me?

_ Phi_.

Because I will.

_3_.

Will you Sir sawce-box?

_1 Cit_.

Look if one ha'not struck _Philip_, come hither _Philip_, why did he strike thee?

_ Phil_.

For leaning on him.

_1 Cit_.

Why didst thou lean on him?

_ Phil_.

I did not think he would have struck me.

_1 Cit_.

As God save me la thou'rt as wild as a Buck, there's no quarel but thou'rt at one end or other on't.

_3_.

It's at the first end then, for he'l ne'r stay the last.

_1 Cit_.

Well slip-string, I shall meet with you.

_3_.

When you will.

_1 Cit_.

I'le give a crown to meet with you.

_3_.

At a Bawdy-house.

_1 Cit_.

I you're full of your Roguery; but if I do meet you it shall cost me a fall.

_ Flourish. Enter one running_.

_4_

The King, the King, the King. Now, now, now, now.

_ Flourish. Enter_ Arb. Tigr. _The two Kings and_ Mardonius.

_ All_.

God preserve your Majesty.

_Arb_.

I thank you all, now are my joyes at full, when I behold you safe, my loving Subjects; by you I grow, 'tis your united love that lifts me to this height: all the account that I can render you for all the love you have bestowed on me, all your expences to maintain my war, is but a little word, you will imagine 'tis slender paiment, yet 'tis such a word, as is not to be bought but with your bloods, 'tis Peace.

_ All_.

God preserve your Majesty.

_Arb_.

Now you may live securely i'your Towns, Your Children round about you; may sit Under your Vines, and make the miseries Of other Kingdoms a discourse for you, And lend them sorrows; for your selves, you may Safely forget there are such things as tears, And you may all whose good thoughts I have gain'd, Hold me unworthy, where I think my life A sacrifice too great to keep you thus In such a calm estate.

_ All_.

God bless your Majesty.

_Arb_.

See all good people, I have brought the man whose very name you fear'd, a captive home; behold him, 'tis _Tigranes_; in your heart sing songs of gladness, and deliverance.

_1 Cit_.

Out upon him.

_2 Cit_.

How he looks.