SCENE II.
Enter ORCANES, GAZELLUS, and URIBASSA, with their train.
ORCANES. Gazellus, Uribassa, and the rest,
Now will we march from proud Orminius' mount
To fair Natolia, where our neighbour kings
Expect our power and our royal presence,
T' encounter with the cruel Tamburlaine,
That nigh Larissa sways a mighty host,
And with the thunder of his martial 70 tools
Makes earthquakes in the hearts of men and heaven.
GAZELLUS. And now come we to make his sinews shake
With greater power than erst his pride hath felt.
An hundred kings, by scores, will bid him arms,
And hundred thousands subjects to each score:
Which, if a shower of wounding thunderbolts
Should break out of the bowels of the clouds,
And fall as thick as hail upon our heads,
In partial aid of that proud Scythian,
Yet should our courages and steeled crests,
And numbers, more than infinite, of men,
Be able to withstand and conquer him.
URIBASSA. Methinks I see how glad the Christian king
Is made for joy of our 71 admitted truce,
That could not but before be terrified
With 72 unacquainted power of our host.
Enter a Messenger.
MESSENGER. Arm, dread sovereign, and my noble lords!
The treacherous army of the Christians,
Taking advantage of your slender power,
Comes marching on us, and determines straight
To bid us battle for our dearest lives.
ORCANES. Traitors, villains, damned Christians!
Have I not here the articles of peace
And solemn covenants we have both confirm'd,
He by his Christ, and I by Mahomet?
GAZELLUS. Hell and confusion light upon their heads,
That with such treason seek our overthrow,
And care so little for their prophet Christ!
ORCANES. Can there be such deceit in Christians,
Or treason in the fleshly heart of man,
Whose shape is figure of the highest God?
Then, if there be a Christ, as Christians say,
But in their deeds deny him for their Christ,
If he be son to everliving Jove,
And hath the power of his outstretched arm,
If he be jealous of his name and honour
As is our holy prophet Mahomet,
Take here these papers as our sacrifice
And witness of thy servant's 73 perjury!
[He tears to pieces the articles of peace.]
Open, thou shining veil of Cynthia,
And make a passage from th' empyreal heaven,
That he that sits on high and never sleeps,
Nor in one place is circumscriptible,
But every where fills every continent
With strange infusion of his sacred vigour,
May, in his endless power and purity,
Behold and venge this traitor's perjury!
Thou, Christ, that art esteem'd omnipotent,
If thou wilt prove thyself a perfect God,
Worthy the worship of all faithful hearts,
Be now reveng'd upon this traitor's soul,
And make the power I have left behind
(Too little to defend our guiltless lives)
Sufficient to discomfit 74 and confound
The trustless force of those false Christians!—
To arms, my lords! 75 on Christ still let us cry:
If there be Christ, we shall have victory.
[Exeunt.]
ORCANES. Gazellus, Uribassa, and the rest,
Now will we march from proud Orminius' mount
To fair Natolia, where our neighbour kings
Expect our power and our royal presence,
T' encounter with the cruel Tamburlaine,
That nigh Larissa sways a mighty host,
And with the thunder of his martial 70 tools
Makes earthquakes in the hearts of men and heaven.
GAZELLUS. And now come we to make his sinews shake
With greater power than erst his pride hath felt.
An hundred kings, by scores, will bid him arms,
And hundred thousands subjects to each score:
Which, if a shower of wounding thunderbolts
Should break out of the bowels of the clouds,
And fall as thick as hail upon our heads,
In partial aid of that proud Scythian,
Yet should our courages and steeled crests,
And numbers, more than infinite, of men,
Be able to withstand and conquer him.
URIBASSA. Methinks I see how glad the Christian king
Is made for joy of our 71 admitted truce,
That could not but before be terrified
With 72 unacquainted power of our host.
Enter a Messenger.
MESSENGER. Arm, dread sovereign, and my noble lords!
The treacherous army of the Christians,
Taking advantage of your slender power,
Comes marching on us, and determines straight
To bid us battle for our dearest lives.
ORCANES. Traitors, villains, damned Christians!
Have I not here the articles of peace
And solemn covenants we have both confirm'd,
He by his Christ, and I by Mahomet?
GAZELLUS. Hell and confusion light upon their heads,
That with such treason seek our overthrow,
And care so little for their prophet Christ!
ORCANES. Can there be such deceit in Christians,
Or treason in the fleshly heart of man,
Whose shape is figure of the highest God?
Then, if there be a Christ, as Christians say,
But in their deeds deny him for their Christ,
If he be son to everliving Jove,
And hath the power of his outstretched arm,
If he be jealous of his name and honour
As is our holy prophet Mahomet,
Take here these papers as our sacrifice
And witness of thy servant's 73 perjury!
[He tears to pieces the articles of peace.]
Open, thou shining veil of Cynthia,
And make a passage from th' empyreal heaven,
That he that sits on high and never sleeps,
Nor in one place is circumscriptible,
But every where fills every continent
With strange infusion of his sacred vigour,
May, in his endless power and purity,
Behold and venge this traitor's perjury!
Thou, Christ, that art esteem'd omnipotent,
If thou wilt prove thyself a perfect God,
Worthy the worship of all faithful hearts,
Be now reveng'd upon this traitor's soul,
And make the power I have left behind
(Too little to defend our guiltless lives)
Sufficient to discomfit 74 and confound
The trustless force of those false Christians!—
To arms, my lords! 75 on Christ still let us cry:
If there be Christ, we shall have victory.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III.
Alarms of battle within. Enter SIGISMUND wounded.
SIGISMUND. Discomfited is all the Christian 76 host,
And God hath thunder'd vengeance from on high,
For my accurs'd and hateful perjury.
O just and dreadful punisher of sin,
Let the dishonour of the pains I feel
In this my mortal well-deserved wound
End all my penance in my sudden death!
And let this death, wherein to sin I die,
Conceive a second life in endless mercy!
[Dies.]
Enter ORCANES, GAZELLUS, URIBASSA, with others.
ORCANES. Now lie the Christians bathing in their bloods,
And Christ or Mahomet hath been my friend.
GAZELLUS. See, here the perjur'd traitor Hungary,
Bloody and breathless for his villany!
ORCANES. Now shall his barbarous body be a prey
To beasts and fowls, and all the winds shall breathe,
Through shady leaves of every senseless tree,
Murmurs and hisses for his heinous sin.
Now scalds his soul in the Tartarian streams,
And feeds upon the baneful tree of hell,
That Zoacum, 77 that fruit of bitterness,
That in the midst of fire is ingraff'd,
Yet flourisheth, as Flora in her pride,
With apples like the heads of damned fiends.
The devils there, in chains of quenchless flame,
Shall lead his soul, through Orcus' burning gulf,
]From pain to pain, whose change shall never end.
What say'st thou yet, Gazellus, to his foil,
Which we referr'd to justice of his Christ
And to his power, which here appears as full
As rays of Cynthia to the clearest sight?
GAZELLUS. 'Tis but the fortune of the wars, my lord,
Whose power is often prov'd a miracle.
ORCANES. Yet in my thoughts shall Christ be honoured,
Not doing Mahomet an 78 injury,
Whose power had share in this our victory;
And, since this miscreant hath disgrac'd his faith,
And died a traitor both to heaven and earth,
We will both watch and ward shall keep his trunk 79 Amidst these plains for fowls to prey upon.
Go, Uribassa, give 80 it straight in charge.
URIBASSA. I will, my lord.
[Exit.]
ORCANES. And now, Gazellus, let us haste and meet
Our army, and our brother[s] of Jerusalem,
Of Soria, 81 Trebizon, and Amasia,
And happily, with full Natolian bowls
Of Greekish wine, now let us celebrate
Our happy conquest and his angry fate.
[Exeunt.]
SIGISMUND. Discomfited is all the Christian 76 host,
And God hath thunder'd vengeance from on high,
For my accurs'd and hateful perjury.
O just and dreadful punisher of sin,
Let the dishonour of the pains I feel
In this my mortal well-deserved wound
End all my penance in my sudden death!
And let this death, wherein to sin I die,
Conceive a second life in endless mercy!
[Dies.]
Enter ORCANES, GAZELLUS, URIBASSA, with others.
ORCANES. Now lie the Christians bathing in their bloods,
And Christ or Mahomet hath been my friend.
GAZELLUS. See, here the perjur'd traitor Hungary,
Bloody and breathless for his villany!
ORCANES. Now shall his barbarous body be a prey
To beasts and fowls, and all the winds shall breathe,
Through shady leaves of every senseless tree,
Murmurs and hisses for his heinous sin.
Now scalds his soul in the Tartarian streams,
And feeds upon the baneful tree of hell,
That Zoacum, 77 that fruit of bitterness,
That in the midst of fire is ingraff'd,
Yet flourisheth, as Flora in her pride,
With apples like the heads of damned fiends.
The devils there, in chains of quenchless flame,
Shall lead his soul, through Orcus' burning gulf,
]From pain to pain, whose change shall never end.
What say'st thou yet, Gazellus, to his foil,
Which we referr'd to justice of his Christ
And to his power, which here appears as full
As rays of Cynthia to the clearest sight?
GAZELLUS. 'Tis but the fortune of the wars, my lord,
Whose power is often prov'd a miracle.
ORCANES. Yet in my thoughts shall Christ be honoured,
Not doing Mahomet an 78 injury,
Whose power had share in this our victory;
And, since this miscreant hath disgrac'd his faith,
And died a traitor both to heaven and earth,
We will both watch and ward shall keep his trunk 79 Amidst these plains for fowls to prey upon.
Go, Uribassa, give 80 it straight in charge.
URIBASSA. I will, my lord.
[Exit.]
ORCANES. And now, Gazellus, let us haste and meet
Our army, and our brother[s] of Jerusalem,
Of Soria, 81 Trebizon, and Amasia,
And happily, with full Natolian bowls
Of Greekish wine, now let us celebrate
Our happy conquest and his angry fate.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE IV.
The arras is drawn, and ZENOCRATE is discovered lying
in her bed of state; TAMBURLAINE sitting by her; three
PHYSICIANS about her bed, tempering potions; her three
sons, CALYPHAS, AMYRAS, and CELEBINUS; THERIDAMAS,
TECHELLES, and USUMCASANE.
TAMBURLAINE. Black is the beauty of the brightest day;
The golden ball of heaven's eternal fire,
That danc'd with glory on the silver waves,
Now wants the fuel that inflam'd his beams;
And all with faintness, and for foul disgrace,
He binds his temples with a frowning cloud,
Ready to darken earth with endless night.
Zenocrate, that gave him light and life,
Whose eyes shot fire from their 82 ivory brows, 83 And temper'd every soul with lively heat,
Now by the malice of the angry skies,
Whose jealousy admits no second mate,
Draws in the comfort of her latest breath,
All dazzled with the hellish mists of death.
Now walk the angels on the walls of heaven,
As sentinels to warn th' immortal souls
To entertain divine Zenocrate:
Apollo, Cynthia, and the ceaseless lamps
That gently look'd upon this 84 loathsome earth,
Shine downwards now no more, but deck the heavens
To entertain divine Zenocrate:
The crystal springs, whose taste illuminates
Refined eyes with an eternal sight,
Like tried silver run through Paradise
To entertain divine Zenocrate:
The cherubins and holy seraphins,
That sing and play before the King of Kings,
Use all their voices and their instruments
To entertain divine Zenocrate;
And, in this sweet and curious harmony,
The god that tunes this music to our souls
Holds out his hand in highest majesty
To entertain divine Zenocrate.
Then let some holy trance convey my thoughts
Up to the palace of th' empyreal heaven,
That this my life may be as short to me
As are the days of sweet Zenocrate.—
Physicians, will no 85 physic do her good?
FIRST PHYSICIAN. My lord, your majesty shall soon perceive,
An if she pass this fit, the worst is past.
TAMBURLAINE. Tell me, how fares my fair Zenocrate?
ZENOCRATE. I fare, my lord, as other empresses,
That, when this frail and 86 transitory flesh
Hath suck'd the measure of that vital air
That feeds the body with his dated health,
Wane with enforc'd and necessary change.
TAMBURLAINE. May never such a change transform my love,
In whose sweet being I repose my life!
Whose heavenly presence, beautified with health,
Gives light to Phoebus and the fixed stars;
Whose absence makes 87 the sun and moon as dark
As when, oppos'd in one diameter,
Their spheres are mounted on the serpent's head,
Or else descended to his winding train.
Live still, my love, and so conserve my life,
Or, dying, be the author 88 of my death.
ZENOCRATE. Live still, my lord; O, let my sovereign live!
And sooner let the fiery element
Dissolve, and make your kingdom in the sky,
Than this base earth should shroud your majesty;
For, should I but suspect your death by mine,
The comfort of my future happiness,
And hope to meet your highness in the heavens,
Turn'd to despair, would break my wretched breast,
And fury would confound my present rest.
But let me die, my love; yes, 89 let me die;
With love and patience let your true love die:
Your grief and fury hurts my second life.
Yet let me kiss my lord before I die,
And let me die with kissing of my lord.
But, since my life is lengthen'd yet a while,
Let me take leave of these my loving sons,
And of my lords, whose true nobility
Have merited my latest memory.
Sweet sons, farewell! in death resemble me,
And in your lives your father's excellence. 90 Some music, and my fit will cease, my lord.
[They call for music.]
TAMBURLAINE. Proud fury, and intolerable fit,
That dares torment the body of my love,
And scourge the scourge of the immortal God!
Now are those spheres, where Cupid us'd to sit,
Wounding the world with wonder and with love,
Sadly supplied with pale and ghastly death,
Whose darts do pierce the centre of my soul.
Her sacred beauty hath enchanted heaven;
And, had she liv'd before the siege of Troy,
Helen, whose beauty summon'd Greece to arms,
And drew a thousand ships to Tenedos,
Had not been nam'd in Homer's Iliads,—
Her name had been in every line he wrote;
Or, had those wanton poets, for whose birth
Old Rome was proud, but gaz'd a while on her,
Nor Lesbia nor Corinna had been nam'd,—
Zenocrate had been the argument
Of every epigram or elegy.
[The music sounds—ZENOCRATE dies.]
What, is she dead? Techelles, draw thy sword,
And wound the earth, that it may cleave in twain,
And we descend into th' infernal vaults,
To hale the Fatal Sisters by the hair,
And throw them in the triple moat of hell,
For taking hence my fair Zenocrate.
Casane and Theridamas, to arms!
Raise cavalieros 91 higher than the clouds,
And with the cannon break the frame of heaven;
Batter the shining palace of the sun,
And shiver all the starry firmament,
For amorous Jove hath snatch'd my love from hence,
Meaning to make her stately queen of heaven.
What god soever holds thee in his arms,
Giving thee nectar and ambrosia,
Behold me here, divine Zenocrate,
Raving, impatient, desperate, and mad,
Breaking my steeled lance, with which I burst
The rusty beams of Janus' temple-doors,
Letting out Death and tyrannizing War,
To march with me under this bloody flag!
And, if thou pitiest Tamburlaine the Great,
Come down from heaven, and live with me again!
THERIDAMAS. Ah, good my lord, be patient! she is dead,
And all this raging cannot make her live.
If words might serve, our voice hath rent the air;
If tears, our eyes have water'd all the earth;
If grief, our murder'd hearts have strain'd forth blood:
Nothing prevails, 92 for she is dead, my lord.
TAMBURLAINE. FOR SHE IS DEAD! thy words do pierce my soul:
Ah, sweet Theridamas, say so no more!
Though she be dead, yet let me think she lives,
And feed my mind that dies for want of her.
Where'er her soul be, thou [To the body] shalt stay with me,
Embalm'd with cassia, ambergris, and myrrh,
Not lapt in lead, but in a sheet of gold,
And, till I die, thou shalt not be interr'd.
Then in as rich a tomb as Mausolus' 93 We both will rest, and have one 94 epitaph
Writ in as many several languages
As I have conquer'd kingdoms with my sword.
This cursed town will I consume with fire,
Because this place bereft me of my love;
The houses, burnt, will look as if they mourn'd;
And here will I set up her stature, 95 And march about it with my mourning camp,
Drooping and pining for Zenocrate.
[The arras is drawn.]
in her bed of state; TAMBURLAINE sitting by her; three
PHYSICIANS about her bed, tempering potions; her three
sons, CALYPHAS, AMYRAS, and CELEBINUS; THERIDAMAS,
TECHELLES, and USUMCASANE.
TAMBURLAINE. Black is the beauty of the brightest day;
The golden ball of heaven's eternal fire,
That danc'd with glory on the silver waves,
Now wants the fuel that inflam'd his beams;
And all with faintness, and for foul disgrace,
He binds his temples with a frowning cloud,
Ready to darken earth with endless night.
Zenocrate, that gave him light and life,
Whose eyes shot fire from their 82 ivory brows, 83 And temper'd every soul with lively heat,
Now by the malice of the angry skies,
Whose jealousy admits no second mate,
Draws in the comfort of her latest breath,
All dazzled with the hellish mists of death.
Now walk the angels on the walls of heaven,
As sentinels to warn th' immortal souls
To entertain divine Zenocrate:
Apollo, Cynthia, and the ceaseless lamps
That gently look'd upon this 84 loathsome earth,
Shine downwards now no more, but deck the heavens
To entertain divine Zenocrate:
The crystal springs, whose taste illuminates
Refined eyes with an eternal sight,
Like tried silver run through Paradise
To entertain divine Zenocrate:
The cherubins and holy seraphins,
That sing and play before the King of Kings,
Use all their voices and their instruments
To entertain divine Zenocrate;
And, in this sweet and curious harmony,
The god that tunes this music to our souls
Holds out his hand in highest majesty
To entertain divine Zenocrate.
Then let some holy trance convey my thoughts
Up to the palace of th' empyreal heaven,
That this my life may be as short to me
As are the days of sweet Zenocrate.—
Physicians, will no 85 physic do her good?
FIRST PHYSICIAN. My lord, your majesty shall soon perceive,
An if she pass this fit, the worst is past.
TAMBURLAINE. Tell me, how fares my fair Zenocrate?
ZENOCRATE. I fare, my lord, as other empresses,
That, when this frail and 86 transitory flesh
Hath suck'd the measure of that vital air
That feeds the body with his dated health,
Wane with enforc'd and necessary change.
TAMBURLAINE. May never such a change transform my love,
In whose sweet being I repose my life!
Whose heavenly presence, beautified with health,
Gives light to Phoebus and the fixed stars;
Whose absence makes 87 the sun and moon as dark
As when, oppos'd in one diameter,
Their spheres are mounted on the serpent's head,
Or else descended to his winding train.
Live still, my love, and so conserve my life,
Or, dying, be the author 88 of my death.
ZENOCRATE. Live still, my lord; O, let my sovereign live!
And sooner let the fiery element
Dissolve, and make your kingdom in the sky,
Than this base earth should shroud your majesty;
For, should I but suspect your death by mine,
The comfort of my future happiness,
And hope to meet your highness in the heavens,
Turn'd to despair, would break my wretched breast,
And fury would confound my present rest.
But let me die, my love; yes, 89 let me die;
With love and patience let your true love die:
Your grief and fury hurts my second life.
Yet let me kiss my lord before I die,
And let me die with kissing of my lord.
But, since my life is lengthen'd yet a while,
Let me take leave of these my loving sons,
And of my lords, whose true nobility
Have merited my latest memory.
Sweet sons, farewell! in death resemble me,
And in your lives your father's excellence. 90 Some music, and my fit will cease, my lord.
[They call for music.]
TAMBURLAINE. Proud fury, and intolerable fit,
That dares torment the body of my love,
And scourge the scourge of the immortal God!
Now are those spheres, where Cupid us'd to sit,
Wounding the world with wonder and with love,
Sadly supplied with pale and ghastly death,
Whose darts do pierce the centre of my soul.
Her sacred beauty hath enchanted heaven;
And, had she liv'd before the siege of Troy,
Helen, whose beauty summon'd Greece to arms,
And drew a thousand ships to Tenedos,
Had not been nam'd in Homer's Iliads,—
Her name had been in every line he wrote;
Or, had those wanton poets, for whose birth
Old Rome was proud, but gaz'd a while on her,
Nor Lesbia nor Corinna had been nam'd,—
Zenocrate had been the argument
Of every epigram or elegy.
[The music sounds—ZENOCRATE dies.]
What, is she dead? Techelles, draw thy sword,
And wound the earth, that it may cleave in twain,
And we descend into th' infernal vaults,
To hale the Fatal Sisters by the hair,
And throw them in the triple moat of hell,
For taking hence my fair Zenocrate.
Casane and Theridamas, to arms!
Raise cavalieros 91 higher than the clouds,
And with the cannon break the frame of heaven;
Batter the shining palace of the sun,
And shiver all the starry firmament,
For amorous Jove hath snatch'd my love from hence,
Meaning to make her stately queen of heaven.
What god soever holds thee in his arms,
Giving thee nectar and ambrosia,
Behold me here, divine Zenocrate,
Raving, impatient, desperate, and mad,
Breaking my steeled lance, with which I burst
The rusty beams of Janus' temple-doors,
Letting out Death and tyrannizing War,
To march with me under this bloody flag!
And, if thou pitiest Tamburlaine the Great,
Come down from heaven, and live with me again!
THERIDAMAS. Ah, good my lord, be patient! she is dead,
And all this raging cannot make her live.
If words might serve, our voice hath rent the air;
If tears, our eyes have water'd all the earth;
If grief, our murder'd hearts have strain'd forth blood:
Nothing prevails, 92 for she is dead, my lord.
TAMBURLAINE. FOR SHE IS DEAD! thy words do pierce my soul:
Ah, sweet Theridamas, say so no more!
Though she be dead, yet let me think she lives,
And feed my mind that dies for want of her.
Where'er her soul be, thou [To the body] shalt stay with me,
Embalm'd with cassia, ambergris, and myrrh,
Not lapt in lead, but in a sheet of gold,
And, till I die, thou shalt not be interr'd.
Then in as rich a tomb as Mausolus' 93 We both will rest, and have one 94 epitaph
Writ in as many several languages
As I have conquer'd kingdoms with my sword.
This cursed town will I consume with fire,
Because this place bereft me of my love;
The houses, burnt, will look as if they mourn'd;
And here will I set up her stature, 95 And march about it with my mourning camp,
Drooping and pining for Zenocrate.
[The arras is drawn.]
ACT III.
SCENE I.
Enter the KINGS OF TREBIZON and SORIA, 96 one bringing a
sword and the other a sceptre; next, ORCANES king of
Natolia, and the KING OF JERUSALEM with the imperial crown,
after, CALLAPINE; and, after him, other LORDS and ALMEDA.
ORCANES and the KING OF JERUSALEM crown CALLAPINE, and the
others give him the sceptre.
ORCANES. Callapinus Cyricelibes, otherwise Cybelius, son and
successive heir to the late mighty emperor Bajazeth, by the aid
of God and his friend Mahomet, Emperor of Natolia, Jerusalem,
Trebizon, Soria, Amasia, Thracia, Ilyria, Carmania, and all the
hundred and thirty kingdoms late contributory to his mighty
father,—long live Callapinus, Emperor of Turkey!
CALLAPINE. Thrice-worthy kings, of Natolia and the rest,
I will requite your royal gratitudes
With all the benefits my empire yields;
And, were the sinews of th' imperial seat
So knit and strengthen'd as when Bajazeth,
My royal lord and father, fill'd the throne,
Whose cursed fate 97 hath so dismember'd it,
Then should you see this thief of Scythia,
This proud usurping king of Persia,
Do us such honour and supremacy,
Bearing the vengeance of our father's wrongs,
As all the world should blot his 98 dignities
Out of the book of base-born infamies.
And now I doubt not but your royal cares
Have so provided for this cursed foe,
That, since the heir of mighty Bajazeth
(An emperor so honour'd for his virtues)
Revives the spirits of all 99 true Turkish hearts,
In grievous memory of his father's shame,
We shall not need to nourish any doubt,
But that proud Fortune, who hath follow'd long
The martial sword of mighty Tamburlaine,
Will now retain her old inconstancy,
And raise our honours 100 to as high a pitch,
In this our strong and fortunate encounter;
For so hath heaven provided my escape
]From all the cruelty my soul sustain'd,
By this my friendly keeper's happy means,
That Jove, surcharg'd with pity of our wrongs,
Will pour it down in showers on our heads,
Scourging the pride of cursed Tamburlaine.
ORCANES. I have a hundred thousand men in arms;
Some that, in conquest 101 of the perjur'd Christian,
Being a handful to a mighty host,
Think them in number yet sufficient
To drink the river Nile or Euphrates,
And for their power enow to win the world.
KING OF JERUSALEM. And I as many from Jerusalem,
Judaea, 102 Gaza, and Sclavonia's 103 bounds,
That on mount Sinai, with their ensigns spread,
Look like the parti-colour'd clouds of heaven
That shew fair weather to the neighbour morn.
KING OF TREBIZON. And I as many bring from Trebizon,
Chio, Famastro, and Amasia,
All bordering on the Mare-Major-sea,
Riso, Sancina, and the bordering towns
That touch the end of famous Euphrates,
Whose courages are kindled with the flames
The cursed Scythian sets on all their towns,
And vow to burn the villain's cruel heart.
KING OF SORIA. From Soria 104 with seventy thousand strong,
Ta'en from Aleppo, Soldino, Tripoly,
And so unto my city of Damascus, 105 I march to meet and aid my neighbour kings;
All which will join against this Tamburlaine,
And bring him captive to your highness' feet.
ORCANES. Our battle, then, in martial manner pitch'd,
According to our ancient use, shall bear
The figure of the semicircled moon,
Whose horns shell sprinkle through the tainted air
The poison'd brains of this proud Scythian.
CALLAPINE. Well, then, my noble lords, for this my friend
That freed me from the bondage of my foe,
I think it requisite and honourable
To keep my promise and to make him king,
That is a gentleman, I know, at least.
ALMEDA. That's no matter, 106 sir, for being a king;
or Tamburlaine came up of nothing.
KING OF JERUSALEM. Your majesty may choose some 'pointed time,
Performing all your promise to the full;
'Tis naught for your majesty to give a kingdom.
CALLAPINE. Then will I shortly keep my promise, Almeda.
ALMEDA. Why, I thank your majesty.
[Exeunt.]
sword and the other a sceptre; next, ORCANES king of
Natolia, and the KING OF JERUSALEM with the imperial crown,
after, CALLAPINE; and, after him, other LORDS and ALMEDA.
ORCANES and the KING OF JERUSALEM crown CALLAPINE, and the
others give him the sceptre.
ORCANES. Callapinus Cyricelibes, otherwise Cybelius, son and
successive heir to the late mighty emperor Bajazeth, by the aid
of God and his friend Mahomet, Emperor of Natolia, Jerusalem,
Trebizon, Soria, Amasia, Thracia, Ilyria, Carmania, and all the
hundred and thirty kingdoms late contributory to his mighty
father,—long live Callapinus, Emperor of Turkey!
CALLAPINE. Thrice-worthy kings, of Natolia and the rest,
I will requite your royal gratitudes
With all the benefits my empire yields;
And, were the sinews of th' imperial seat
So knit and strengthen'd as when Bajazeth,
My royal lord and father, fill'd the throne,
Whose cursed fate 97 hath so dismember'd it,
Then should you see this thief of Scythia,
This proud usurping king of Persia,
Do us such honour and supremacy,
Bearing the vengeance of our father's wrongs,
As all the world should blot his 98 dignities
Out of the book of base-born infamies.
And now I doubt not but your royal cares
Have so provided for this cursed foe,
That, since the heir of mighty Bajazeth
(An emperor so honour'd for his virtues)
Revives the spirits of all 99 true Turkish hearts,
In grievous memory of his father's shame,
We shall not need to nourish any doubt,
But that proud Fortune, who hath follow'd long
The martial sword of mighty Tamburlaine,
Will now retain her old inconstancy,
And raise our honours 100 to as high a pitch,
In this our strong and fortunate encounter;
For so hath heaven provided my escape
]From all the cruelty my soul sustain'd,
By this my friendly keeper's happy means,
That Jove, surcharg'd with pity of our wrongs,
Will pour it down in showers on our heads,
Scourging the pride of cursed Tamburlaine.
ORCANES. I have a hundred thousand men in arms;
Some that, in conquest 101 of the perjur'd Christian,
Being a handful to a mighty host,
Think them in number yet sufficient
To drink the river Nile or Euphrates,
And for their power enow to win the world.
KING OF JERUSALEM. And I as many from Jerusalem,
Judaea, 102 Gaza, and Sclavonia's 103 bounds,
That on mount Sinai, with their ensigns spread,
Look like the parti-colour'd clouds of heaven
That shew fair weather to the neighbour morn.
KING OF TREBIZON. And I as many bring from Trebizon,
Chio, Famastro, and Amasia,
All bordering on the Mare-Major-sea,
Riso, Sancina, and the bordering towns
That touch the end of famous Euphrates,
Whose courages are kindled with the flames
The cursed Scythian sets on all their towns,
And vow to burn the villain's cruel heart.
KING OF SORIA. From Soria 104 with seventy thousand strong,
Ta'en from Aleppo, Soldino, Tripoly,
And so unto my city of Damascus, 105 I march to meet and aid my neighbour kings;
All which will join against this Tamburlaine,
And bring him captive to your highness' feet.
ORCANES. Our battle, then, in martial manner pitch'd,
According to our ancient use, shall bear
The figure of the semicircled moon,
Whose horns shell sprinkle through the tainted air
The poison'd brains of this proud Scythian.
CALLAPINE. Well, then, my noble lords, for this my friend
That freed me from the bondage of my foe,
I think it requisite and honourable
To keep my promise and to make him king,
That is a gentleman, I know, at least.
ALMEDA. That's no matter, 106 sir, for being a king;
or Tamburlaine came up of nothing.
KING OF JERUSALEM. Your majesty may choose some 'pointed time,
Performing all your promise to the full;
'Tis naught for your majesty to give a kingdom.
CALLAPINE. Then will I shortly keep my promise, Almeda.
ALMEDA. Why, I thank your majesty.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE II.
Enter TAMBURLAINE and his three sons, CALYPHAS, AMYRAS, and
CELEBINUS; USUMCASANE; four ATTENDANTS bearing the hearse of
ZENOCRATE, and the drums sounding a doleful march; the town
burning.
TAMBURLAINE. So burn the turrets of this cursed town,
Flame to the highest region of the air,
And kindle heaps of exhalations,
That, being fiery meteors, may presage
Death and destruction to the inhabitants!
Over my zenith hang a blazing star,
That may endure till heaven be dissolv'd,
Fed with the fresh supply of earthly dregs,
Threatening a dearth 107 and famine to this land!
Flying dragons, lightning, fearful thunder-claps,
Singe these fair plains, and make them seem as black
As is the island where the Furies mask,
Compass'd with Lethe, Styx, and Phlegethon,
Because my dear Zenocrate is dead!
CALYPHAS. This pillar, plac'd in memory of her,
Where in Arabian, Hebrew, Greek, is writ,
THIS TOWN, BEING BURNT BY TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT,
FORBIDS THE WORLD TO BUILD IT UP AGAIN.
AMYRAS. And here this mournful streamer shall be plac'd,
Wrought with the Persian and th' 108 Egyptian arms,
To signify she was a princess born,
And wife unto the monarch of the East.
CELEBINUS. And here this table as a register
Of all her virtues and perfections.
TAMBURLAINE. And here the picture of Zenocrate,
To shew her beauty which the world admir'd;
Sweet picture of divine Zenocrate,
That, hanging here, will draw the gods from heaven,
And cause the stars fix'd in the southern arc,
(Whose lovely faces never any view'd
That have not pass'd the centre's latitude,)
As pilgrims travel to our hemisphere,
Only to gaze upon Zenocrate.
Thou shalt not beautify Larissa-plains,
But keep within the circle of mine arms:
At every town and castle I besiege,
Thou shalt be set upon my royal tent;
And, when I meet an army in the field,
Those 109 looks will shed such influence in my camp,
As if Bellona, goddess of the war,
Threw naked swords and sulphur-balls of fire
Upon the heads of all our enemies.—
And now, my lords, advance your spears again;
Sorrow no more, my sweet Casane, now:
Boys, leave to mourn; this town shall ever mourn,
Being burnt to cinders for your mother's death.
CALYPHAS. If I had wept a sea of tears for her,
would not ease the sorrows 110 I sustain.
AMYRAS. As is that town, so is my heart consum'd
With grief and sorrow for my mother's death.
CELEBINUS. My mother's death hath mortified my mind,
And sorrow stops the passage of my speech.
TAMBURLAINE. But now, my boys, leave off, and list to me,
That mean to teach you rudiments of war.
I'll have you learn to sleep upon the ground,
March in your armour thorough watery fens,
Sustain the scorching heat and freezing cold,
Hunger and thirst, 111 right adjuncts of the war;
And, after this, to scale a castle-wall,
Besiege a fort, to undermine a town,
And make whole cities caper in the air:
Then next, the way to fortify your men;
In champion 112 grounds what figure serves you best,
For which 113 the quinque-angle form is meet,
Because the corners there may fall more flat
Whereas 114 the fort may fittest be assail'd,
And sharpest where th' assault is desperate:
The ditches must be deep; the 115 counterscarps
Narrow and steep; the walls made high and broad;
The bulwarks and the rampires large and strong,
With cavalieros 116 and thick counterforts,
And room within to lodge six thousand men;
It must have privy ditches, countermines,
And secret issuings to defend the ditch;
It must have high argins 117 and cover'd ways
To keep the bulwark-fronts from battery,
And parapets to hide the musketeers,
Casemates to place the great 118 artillery,
And store of ordnance, that from every flank
May scour the outward curtains of the fort,
Dismount the cannon of the adverse part,
Murder the foe, and save the 119 walls from breach.
When this is learn'd for service on the land,
By plain and easy demonstration
I'll teach you how to make the water mount,
That you may dry-foot march through lakes and pools,
Deep rivers, havens, creeks, and little seas,
And make a fortress in the raging waves,
Fenc'd with the concave of a monstrous rock,
Invincible by nature 120 of the place.
When this is done, then are ye soldiers,
And worthy sons of Tamburlaine the Great.
CALYPHAS. My lord, but this is dangerous to be done;
We may be slain or wounded ere we learn.
TAMBURLAINE. Villain, art thou the son of Tamburlaine,
And fear'st to die, or with a 121 curtle-axe
To hew thy flesh, and make a gaping wound?
Hast thou beheld a peal of ordnance strike
A ring of pikes, mingled with shot and horse, 122 Whose shatter'd limbs, being toss'd as high as heaven,
Hang in the air as thick as sunny motes,
And canst thou, coward, stand in fear of death?
Hast thou not seen my horsemen charge the foe,
Shot through the arms, cut overthwart the hands,
Dying their lances with their streaming blood,
And yet at night carouse within my tent,
Filling their empty veins with airy wine,
That, being concocted, turns to crimson blood,
And wilt thou shun the field for fear of wounds?
View me, thy father, that hath conquer'd kings,
And, with his 123 host, march'd 124 round about the earth,
Quite void of scars and clear from any wound,
That by the wars lost not a drop 125 of blood,
And see him lance 126 his flesh to teach you all.
[He cuts his arm.]
A wound is nothing, be it ne'er so deep;
Blood is the god of war's rich livery.
Now look I like a soldier, and this wound
As great a grace and majesty to me,
As if a chair of gold enamelled,
Enchas'd with diamonds, sapphires, rubies,
And fairest pearl of wealthy India,
Were mounted here under a canopy,
And I sat down, cloth'd with a massy robe
That late adorn'd the Afric potentate,
Whom I brought bound unto Damascus' walls.
Come, boys, and with your fingers search my wound,
And in my blood wash all your hands at once,
While I sit smiling to behold the sight.
Now, my boys, what think ye of a wound?
CALYPHAS. I know not 127 what I should think of it;
methinks 'tis a pitiful sight.
CELEBINUS. 'Tis 128 nothing.—Give me a wound, father.
AMYRAS. And me another, my lord.
TAMBURLAINE. Come, sirrah, give me your arm.
CELEBINUS. Here, father, cut it bravely, as you did your own.
TAMBURLAINE. It shall suffice thou dar'st abide a wound;
My boy, thou shalt not lose a drop of blood
Before we meet the army of the Turk;
But then run desperate through the thickest throngs,
Dreadless of blows, of bloody wounds, and death;
And let the burning of Larissa-walls,
My speech of war, and this my wound you see,
Teach you, my boys, to bear courageous minds,
Fit for the followers of great Tamburlaine.—
Usumcasane, now come, let us march
Towards Techelles and Theridamas,
That we have sent before to fire the towns,
The towers and cities of these hateful Turks,
And hunt that coward faint-heart runaway,
With that accursed 129 traitor Almeda,
Till fire and sword have found them at a bay.
USUMCASANE. I long to pierce his 130 bowels with my sword,
That hath betray'd my gracious sovereign,—
That curs'd and damned traitor Almeda.
TAMBURLAINE. Then let us see if coward Callapine
Dare levy arms against our puissance,
That we may tread upon his captive neck,
And treble all his father's slaveries.
[Exeunt.]
CELEBINUS; USUMCASANE; four ATTENDANTS bearing the hearse of
ZENOCRATE, and the drums sounding a doleful march; the town
burning.
TAMBURLAINE. So burn the turrets of this cursed town,
Flame to the highest region of the air,
And kindle heaps of exhalations,
That, being fiery meteors, may presage
Death and destruction to the inhabitants!
Over my zenith hang a blazing star,
That may endure till heaven be dissolv'd,
Fed with the fresh supply of earthly dregs,
Threatening a dearth 107 and famine to this land!
Flying dragons, lightning, fearful thunder-claps,
Singe these fair plains, and make them seem as black
As is the island where the Furies mask,
Compass'd with Lethe, Styx, and Phlegethon,
Because my dear Zenocrate is dead!
CALYPHAS. This pillar, plac'd in memory of her,
Where in Arabian, Hebrew, Greek, is writ,
THIS TOWN, BEING BURNT BY TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT,
FORBIDS THE WORLD TO BUILD IT UP AGAIN.
AMYRAS. And here this mournful streamer shall be plac'd,
Wrought with the Persian and th' 108 Egyptian arms,
To signify she was a princess born,
And wife unto the monarch of the East.
CELEBINUS. And here this table as a register
Of all her virtues and perfections.
TAMBURLAINE. And here the picture of Zenocrate,
To shew her beauty which the world admir'd;
Sweet picture of divine Zenocrate,
That, hanging here, will draw the gods from heaven,
And cause the stars fix'd in the southern arc,
(Whose lovely faces never any view'd
That have not pass'd the centre's latitude,)
As pilgrims travel to our hemisphere,
Only to gaze upon Zenocrate.
Thou shalt not beautify Larissa-plains,
But keep within the circle of mine arms:
At every town and castle I besiege,
Thou shalt be set upon my royal tent;
And, when I meet an army in the field,
Those 109 looks will shed such influence in my camp,
As if Bellona, goddess of the war,
Threw naked swords and sulphur-balls of fire
Upon the heads of all our enemies.—
And now, my lords, advance your spears again;
Sorrow no more, my sweet Casane, now:
Boys, leave to mourn; this town shall ever mourn,
Being burnt to cinders for your mother's death.
CALYPHAS. If I had wept a sea of tears for her,
would not ease the sorrows 110 I sustain.
AMYRAS. As is that town, so is my heart consum'd
With grief and sorrow for my mother's death.
CELEBINUS. My mother's death hath mortified my mind,
And sorrow stops the passage of my speech.
TAMBURLAINE. But now, my boys, leave off, and list to me,
That mean to teach you rudiments of war.
I'll have you learn to sleep upon the ground,
March in your armour thorough watery fens,
Sustain the scorching heat and freezing cold,
Hunger and thirst, 111 right adjuncts of the war;
And, after this, to scale a castle-wall,
Besiege a fort, to undermine a town,
And make whole cities caper in the air:
Then next, the way to fortify your men;
In champion 112 grounds what figure serves you best,
For which 113 the quinque-angle form is meet,
Because the corners there may fall more flat
Whereas 114 the fort may fittest be assail'd,
And sharpest where th' assault is desperate:
The ditches must be deep; the 115 counterscarps
Narrow and steep; the walls made high and broad;
The bulwarks and the rampires large and strong,
With cavalieros 116 and thick counterforts,
And room within to lodge six thousand men;
It must have privy ditches, countermines,
And secret issuings to defend the ditch;
It must have high argins 117 and cover'd ways
To keep the bulwark-fronts from battery,
And parapets to hide the musketeers,
Casemates to place the great 118 artillery,
And store of ordnance, that from every flank
May scour the outward curtains of the fort,
Dismount the cannon of the adverse part,
Murder the foe, and save the 119 walls from breach.
When this is learn'd for service on the land,
By plain and easy demonstration
I'll teach you how to make the water mount,
That you may dry-foot march through lakes and pools,
Deep rivers, havens, creeks, and little seas,
And make a fortress in the raging waves,
Fenc'd with the concave of a monstrous rock,
Invincible by nature 120 of the place.
When this is done, then are ye soldiers,
And worthy sons of Tamburlaine the Great.
CALYPHAS. My lord, but this is dangerous to be done;
We may be slain or wounded ere we learn.
TAMBURLAINE. Villain, art thou the son of Tamburlaine,
And fear'st to die, or with a 121 curtle-axe
To hew thy flesh, and make a gaping wound?
Hast thou beheld a peal of ordnance strike
A ring of pikes, mingled with shot and horse, 122 Whose shatter'd limbs, being toss'd as high as heaven,
Hang in the air as thick as sunny motes,
And canst thou, coward, stand in fear of death?
Hast thou not seen my horsemen charge the foe,
Shot through the arms, cut overthwart the hands,
Dying their lances with their streaming blood,
And yet at night carouse within my tent,
Filling their empty veins with airy wine,
That, being concocted, turns to crimson blood,
And wilt thou shun the field for fear of wounds?
View me, thy father, that hath conquer'd kings,
And, with his 123 host, march'd 124 round about the earth,
Quite void of scars and clear from any wound,
That by the wars lost not a drop 125 of blood,
And see him lance 126 his flesh to teach you all.
[He cuts his arm.]
A wound is nothing, be it ne'er so deep;
Blood is the god of war's rich livery.
Now look I like a soldier, and this wound
As great a grace and majesty to me,
As if a chair of gold enamelled,
Enchas'd with diamonds, sapphires, rubies,
And fairest pearl of wealthy India,
Were mounted here under a canopy,
And I sat down, cloth'd with a massy robe
That late adorn'd the Afric potentate,
Whom I brought bound unto Damascus' walls.
Come, boys, and with your fingers search my wound,
And in my blood wash all your hands at once,
While I sit smiling to behold the sight.
Now, my boys, what think ye of a wound?
CALYPHAS. I know not 127 what I should think of it;
methinks 'tis a pitiful sight.
CELEBINUS. 'Tis 128 nothing.—Give me a wound, father.
AMYRAS. And me another, my lord.
TAMBURLAINE. Come, sirrah, give me your arm.
CELEBINUS. Here, father, cut it bravely, as you did your own.
TAMBURLAINE. It shall suffice thou dar'st abide a wound;
My boy, thou shalt not lose a drop of blood
Before we meet the army of the Turk;
But then run desperate through the thickest throngs,
Dreadless of blows, of bloody wounds, and death;
And let the burning of Larissa-walls,
My speech of war, and this my wound you see,
Teach you, my boys, to bear courageous minds,
Fit for the followers of great Tamburlaine.—
Usumcasane, now come, let us march
Towards Techelles and Theridamas,
That we have sent before to fire the towns,
The towers and cities of these hateful Turks,
And hunt that coward faint-heart runaway,
With that accursed 129 traitor Almeda,
Till fire and sword have found them at a bay.
USUMCASANE. I long to pierce his 130 bowels with my sword,
That hath betray'd my gracious sovereign,—
That curs'd and damned traitor Almeda.
TAMBURLAINE. Then let us see if coward Callapine
Dare levy arms against our puissance,
That we may tread upon his captive neck,
And treble all his father's slaveries.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III.
Enter TECHELLES, THERIDAMAS, and their train.
THERIDAMAS. Thus have we march'd northward from Tamburlaine,
Unto the frontier point 131 of Soria; 132 And this is Balsera, their chiefest hold,
Wherein is all the treasure of the land.
TECHELLES. Then let us bring our light artillery,
Minions, falc'nets, and sakers, 133 to the trench,
Filling the ditches with the walls' wide breach,
And enter in to seize upon the hold.— 134 How say you, soldiers, shall we not?
SOLDIERS. Yes, my lord, yes; come, let's about it.
THERIDAMAS. But stay a while; summon a parle, drum.
It may be they will yield it quietly, 135 Knowing two kings, the friends 136 to Tamburlaine,
Stand at the walls with such a mighty power.
[A parley sounded.—CAPTAIN appears on the walls,
with OLYMPIA his wife, and his SON.]
CAPTAIN. What require you, my masters?
THERIDAMAS. Captain, that thou yield up thy hold to us.
CAPTAIN. To you! why, do you 137 think me weary of it?
TECHELLES. Nay, captain, thou art weary of thy life,
If thou withstand the friends of Tamburlaine.
THERIDAMAS. These pioners 138 of Argier in Africa,
Even in 139 the cannon's face, shall raise a hill
Of earth and faggots higher than thy fort,
And, over thy argins 140 and cover'd ways,
Shall play upon the bulwarks of thy hold
Volleys of ordnance, till the breach be made
That with his ruin fills up all the trench;
And, when we enter in, not heaven itself
Shall ransom thee, thy wife, and family.
TECHELLES. Captain, these Moors shall cut the leaden pipes
That bring fresh water to thy men and thee,
And lie in trench before thy castle-walls,
That no supply of victual shall come in,
Nor [any] issue forth but they shall die;
And, therefore, captain, yield it quietly. 141
CAPTAIN. Were you, that are the friends of Tamburlaine, 142 Brothers of 143 holy Mahomet himself,
I would not yield it; therefore do your worst:
Raise mounts, batter, intrench, and undermine,
Cut off the water, all convoys that can, 144 Yet I am 145 resolute: and so, farewell.
[CAPTAIN, OLYMPIA, and SON, retire from the walls.]
THERIDAMAS. Pioners, away! and where I stuck the stake,
Intrench with those dimensions I prescrib'd;
Cast up the earth towards the castle-wall,
Which, till it may defend you, labour low,
And few or none shall perish by their shot.
PIONERS. We will, my lord.
[Exeunt PIONERS.]
TECHELLES. A hundred horse shall scout about the plains,
To spy what force comes to relieve the hold.
Both we, Theridamas, will intrench our men,
And with the Jacob's staff measure the height
And distance of the castle from the trench,
That we may know if our artillery
Will carry full point-blank unto their walls.
THERIDAMAS. Then see the bringing of our ordnance
Along the trench into 146 the battery,
Where we will have gallions of six foot broad,
To save our cannoneers from musket-shot;
Betwixt which shall our ordnance thunder forth,
And with the breach's fall, smoke, fire, and dust,
The crack, the echo, and the soldiers' cry,
Make deaf the air and dim the crystal sky.
TECHELLES. Trumpets and drums, alarum presently!
And, soldiers, play the men; the hold 147 is yours!
[Exeunt.]
THERIDAMAS. Thus have we march'd northward from Tamburlaine,
Unto the frontier point 131 of Soria; 132 And this is Balsera, their chiefest hold,
Wherein is all the treasure of the land.
TECHELLES. Then let us bring our light artillery,
Minions, falc'nets, and sakers, 133 to the trench,
Filling the ditches with the walls' wide breach,
And enter in to seize upon the hold.— 134 How say you, soldiers, shall we not?
SOLDIERS. Yes, my lord, yes; come, let's about it.
THERIDAMAS. But stay a while; summon a parle, drum.
It may be they will yield it quietly, 135 Knowing two kings, the friends 136 to Tamburlaine,
Stand at the walls with such a mighty power.
[A parley sounded.—CAPTAIN appears on the walls,
with OLYMPIA his wife, and his SON.]
CAPTAIN. What require you, my masters?
THERIDAMAS. Captain, that thou yield up thy hold to us.
CAPTAIN. To you! why, do you 137 think me weary of it?
TECHELLES. Nay, captain, thou art weary of thy life,
If thou withstand the friends of Tamburlaine.
THERIDAMAS. These pioners 138 of Argier in Africa,
Even in 139 the cannon's face, shall raise a hill
Of earth and faggots higher than thy fort,
And, over thy argins 140 and cover'd ways,
Shall play upon the bulwarks of thy hold
Volleys of ordnance, till the breach be made
That with his ruin fills up all the trench;
And, when we enter in, not heaven itself
Shall ransom thee, thy wife, and family.
TECHELLES. Captain, these Moors shall cut the leaden pipes
That bring fresh water to thy men and thee,
And lie in trench before thy castle-walls,
That no supply of victual shall come in,
Nor [any] issue forth but they shall die;
And, therefore, captain, yield it quietly. 141
CAPTAIN. Were you, that are the friends of Tamburlaine, 142 Brothers of 143 holy Mahomet himself,
I would not yield it; therefore do your worst:
Raise mounts, batter, intrench, and undermine,
Cut off the water, all convoys that can, 144 Yet I am 145 resolute: and so, farewell.
[CAPTAIN, OLYMPIA, and SON, retire from the walls.]
THERIDAMAS. Pioners, away! and where I stuck the stake,
Intrench with those dimensions I prescrib'd;
Cast up the earth towards the castle-wall,
Which, till it may defend you, labour low,
And few or none shall perish by their shot.
PIONERS. We will, my lord.
[Exeunt PIONERS.]
TECHELLES. A hundred horse shall scout about the plains,
To spy what force comes to relieve the hold.
Both we, Theridamas, will intrench our men,
And with the Jacob's staff measure the height
And distance of the castle from the trench,
That we may know if our artillery
Will carry full point-blank unto their walls.
THERIDAMAS. Then see the bringing of our ordnance
Along the trench into 146 the battery,
Where we will have gallions of six foot broad,
To save our cannoneers from musket-shot;
Betwixt which shall our ordnance thunder forth,
And with the breach's fall, smoke, fire, and dust,
The crack, the echo, and the soldiers' cry,
Make deaf the air and dim the crystal sky.
TECHELLES. Trumpets and drums, alarum presently!
And, soldiers, play the men; the hold 147 is yours!
[Exeunt.]
SCENE IV.
Alarms within. Enter the CAPTAIN, with OLYMPIA, and his
SON.
OLYMPIA. Come, good my lord, and let us haste from hence,
Along the cave that leads beyond the foe:
No hope is left to save this conquer'd hold.
CAPTAIN. A deadly bullet, gliding through my side,
Lies heavy on my heart; I cannot live:
I feel my liver pierc'd, and all my veins,
That there begin and nourish every part,
Mangled and torn, and all my entrails bath'd
In blood that straineth 148 from their orifex.
Farewell, sweet wife! sweet son, farewell! I die.
[Dies.]
OLYMPIA. Death, whither art thou gone, that both we live?
Come back again, sweet Death, and strike us both!
One minute and our days, and one sepulchre
Contain our bodies! Death, why com'st thou not
Well, this must be the messenger for thee:
[Drawing a dagger.]
Now, ugly Death, stretch out thy sable wings,
And carry both our souls where his remains.—
Tell me, sweet boy, art thou content to die?
These barbarous Scythians, full of cruelty,
And Moors, in whom was never pity found,
Will hew us piecemeal, put us to the wheel,
Or else invent some torture worse than that;
Therefore die by thy loving mother's hand,
Who gently now will lance thy ivory throat,
And quickly rid thee both of pain and life.
SON. Mother, despatch me, or I'll kill myself;
For think you I can live and see him dead?
Give me your knife, good mother, or strike home: 149 The Scythians shall not tyrannize on me:
Sweet mother, strike, that I may meet my father.
[She stabs him, and he dies.]
OLYMPIA. Ah, sacred Mahomet, if this be sin,
Entreat a pardon of the God of heaven,
And purge my soul before it come to thee!
[She burns the bodies of her HUSBAND and SON,
and then attempts to kill herself.]
Enter THERIDAMAS, TECHELLES, and all their train.
THERIDAMAS. How now, madam! what are you doing?
OLYMPIA. Killing myself, as I have done my son,
Whose body, with his father's, I have burnt,
Lest cruel Scythians should dismember him.
TECHELLES. 'Twas bravely done, and like a soldier's wife.
Thou shalt with us to Tamburlaine the Great,
Who, when he hears how resolute thou wert, 150 Will match thee with a viceroy or a king.
OLYMPIA. My lord deceas'd was dearer unto me
Than any viceroy, king, or emperor;
And for his sake here will I end my days.
THERIDAMAS. But, lady, go with us to Tamburlaine,
And thou shalt see a man greater than Mahomet,
In whose high looks is much more majesty,
Than from the concave superficies
Of Jove's vast palace, the empyreal orb,
Unto the shining bower where Cynthia sits,
Like lovely Thetis, in a crystal robe;
That treadeth Fortune underneath his feet,
And makes the mighty god of arms his slave;
On whom Death and the Fatal Sisters wait
With naked swords and scarlet liveries;
Before whom, mounted on a lion's back,
Rhamnusia bears a helmet full of blood,
And strows the way with brains of slaughter'd men;
By whose proud side the ugly Furies run,
Hearkening when he shall bid them plague the world;
Over whose zenith, cloth'd in windy air,
And eagle's wings join'd 151 to her feather'd breast,
Fame hovereth, sounding of 152 her golden trump,
That to the adverse poles of that straight line
Which measureth the glorious frame of heaven
The name of mighty Tamburlaine is spread;
And him, fair lady, shall thy eyes behold.
Come.
OLYMPIA. Take pity of a lady's ruthful tears,
That humbly craves upon her knees to stay,
And cast her body in the burning flame
That feeds upon her son's and husband's flesh.
TECHELLES. Madam, sooner shall fire consume us both
Than scorch a face so beautiful as this,
In frame of which Nature hath shew'd more skill
Than when she gave eternal chaos form,
Drawing from it the shining lamps of heaven.
THERIDAMAS. Madam, I am so far in love with you,
That you must go with us: no remedy.
OLYMPIA. Then carry me, I care not, where you will,
And let the end of this my fatal journey
Be likewise end to my accursed life.
TECHELLES. No, madam, but the 153 beginning of your joy:
Come willingly therefore.
THERIDAMAS. Soldiers, now let us meet the general,
Who by this time is at Natolia,
Ready to charge the army of the Turk.
The gold and 154 silver, and the pearl, ye got,
Rifling this fort, divide in equal shares:
This lady shall have twice so much again
Out of the coffers of our treasury.
[Exeunt.]
SON.
OLYMPIA. Come, good my lord, and let us haste from hence,
Along the cave that leads beyond the foe:
No hope is left to save this conquer'd hold.
CAPTAIN. A deadly bullet, gliding through my side,
Lies heavy on my heart; I cannot live:
I feel my liver pierc'd, and all my veins,
That there begin and nourish every part,
Mangled and torn, and all my entrails bath'd
In blood that straineth 148 from their orifex.
Farewell, sweet wife! sweet son, farewell! I die.
[Dies.]
OLYMPIA. Death, whither art thou gone, that both we live?
Come back again, sweet Death, and strike us both!
One minute and our days, and one sepulchre
Contain our bodies! Death, why com'st thou not
Well, this must be the messenger for thee:
[Drawing a dagger.]
Now, ugly Death, stretch out thy sable wings,
And carry both our souls where his remains.—
Tell me, sweet boy, art thou content to die?
These barbarous Scythians, full of cruelty,
And Moors, in whom was never pity found,
Will hew us piecemeal, put us to the wheel,
Or else invent some torture worse than that;
Therefore die by thy loving mother's hand,
Who gently now will lance thy ivory throat,
And quickly rid thee both of pain and life.
SON. Mother, despatch me, or I'll kill myself;
For think you I can live and see him dead?
Give me your knife, good mother, or strike home: 149 The Scythians shall not tyrannize on me:
Sweet mother, strike, that I may meet my father.
[She stabs him, and he dies.]
OLYMPIA. Ah, sacred Mahomet, if this be sin,
Entreat a pardon of the God of heaven,
And purge my soul before it come to thee!
[She burns the bodies of her HUSBAND and SON,
and then attempts to kill herself.]
Enter THERIDAMAS, TECHELLES, and all their train.
THERIDAMAS. How now, madam! what are you doing?
OLYMPIA. Killing myself, as I have done my son,
Whose body, with his father's, I have burnt,
Lest cruel Scythians should dismember him.
TECHELLES. 'Twas bravely done, and like a soldier's wife.
Thou shalt with us to Tamburlaine the Great,
Who, when he hears how resolute thou wert, 150 Will match thee with a viceroy or a king.
OLYMPIA. My lord deceas'd was dearer unto me
Than any viceroy, king, or emperor;
And for his sake here will I end my days.
THERIDAMAS. But, lady, go with us to Tamburlaine,
And thou shalt see a man greater than Mahomet,
In whose high looks is much more majesty,
Than from the concave superficies
Of Jove's vast palace, the empyreal orb,
Unto the shining bower where Cynthia sits,
Like lovely Thetis, in a crystal robe;
That treadeth Fortune underneath his feet,
And makes the mighty god of arms his slave;
On whom Death and the Fatal Sisters wait
With naked swords and scarlet liveries;
Before whom, mounted on a lion's back,
Rhamnusia bears a helmet full of blood,
And strows the way with brains of slaughter'd men;
By whose proud side the ugly Furies run,
Hearkening when he shall bid them plague the world;
Over whose zenith, cloth'd in windy air,
And eagle's wings join'd 151 to her feather'd breast,
Fame hovereth, sounding of 152 her golden trump,
That to the adverse poles of that straight line
Which measureth the glorious frame of heaven
The name of mighty Tamburlaine is spread;
And him, fair lady, shall thy eyes behold.
Come.
OLYMPIA. Take pity of a lady's ruthful tears,
That humbly craves upon her knees to stay,
And cast her body in the burning flame
That feeds upon her son's and husband's flesh.
TECHELLES. Madam, sooner shall fire consume us both
Than scorch a face so beautiful as this,
In frame of which Nature hath shew'd more skill
Than when she gave eternal chaos form,
Drawing from it the shining lamps of heaven.
THERIDAMAS. Madam, I am so far in love with you,
That you must go with us: no remedy.
OLYMPIA. Then carry me, I care not, where you will,
And let the end of this my fatal journey
Be likewise end to my accursed life.
TECHELLES. No, madam, but the 153 beginning of your joy:
Come willingly therefore.
THERIDAMAS. Soldiers, now let us meet the general,
Who by this time is at Natolia,
Ready to charge the army of the Turk.
The gold and 154 silver, and the pearl, ye got,
Rifling this fort, divide in equal shares:
This lady shall have twice so much again
Out of the coffers of our treasury.
[Exeunt.]