I bad you rest with patience, and a time
Would come for me to reconcile all to
Your own content, but by this way you take
Away my power, and what was done unknown,
Was not by me but you: your urging being done
I must preserve my own, but time may bring
All this to light, and happily for all.
Ara.
Accursed be this over curious brain
That gave that plot a birth, accurst this womb
That after did conceive to my disgrace.
Bac.
My Lord Protector, they say there are divers Letters come from Armenia, that Bessus has done good service, and brought again a day, by his particular valour, receiv'd you any to that effect?
Gob.
Yes, 'tis most certain.
Bac.
I'm sorry for't, not that the day was won,
But that 'twas won by him: we held him here
A Coward, he did me wrong once, at which I laugh'd,
And so did all the world, for nor I,
Nor any other held him worth my sword.
Enter Bessus and Spaconia.