Mar.
Sir, Tigranes is comming though he made it strange
To see the Princesse any more.
Arb.
The Queene,
Enter Tig. and Spa.
Thou meanest: O my Tigranes pardon me,
Tread on my necke I freely offer it,
And if thou beest so given; take revenge,
For I have injur'd thee.
Tig.
No, I forgive,
And rejoice more that you have found repentance,
Then I my libertie.
Arb.
Maist thou be happie
In thy faire choice; for thou art temperate:
You owe no ransome to the state, know that;
I have a thousand joyes to tell you of,
Which yet I dare not utter, till I pay
My thankes to Heaven for um: will you goe
With me, and helpe me; pray you doe.