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TAMBURLAINE
THE GREAT |
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Part
the Second |
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By
Christopher Marlowe |
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1587 |
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DRAMATIS PERSONAE. |
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Tamburlaine, King of Persia. |
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Zenocrate, wife to Tamburlaine. |
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Tamburlaine’s sons: |
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Calyphas. |
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Perdicas, Servant to Calyphas. |
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Amyras. |
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Celebinus. |
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Tamburlaine’s Kings: |
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Techelles, King of Fez. |
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Theridamas, King of Argier. |
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Usumcasane, King of Morocco. |
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Other Kings: |
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Orcanes, King of Natolia. |
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King of Trebizond. |
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King of Soria. |
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King of Jerusalem. |
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King of Amasia. |
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Gazellus, Viceroy of Byron. |
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Uribassa. |
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Sigismund, King of Hungary. |
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Lords of Buda and
Bohemia: |
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Frederick. |
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Baldwin. |
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Callapine, son to Bajazeth. |
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Almeda, his Keeper. |
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Captain of Balsera. |
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Olympia, wife of the Captain of Balsera. |
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His Son. |
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Maximus. |
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Physicians. |
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Another Captain. |
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Lords, Citizens,
Soldiers, Turkish Concubines, &c. |
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THE PROLOGUE. |
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The general welcomes
Tamburlaine received, |
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When he arrivèd last
upon the stage, |
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Hath made our poet pen
his Second Part, |
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Where death cuts off
the progress of his pomp, |
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And murderous fates
throw all his triumphs down. |
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But what became of
fair Zenocrate, |
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And with how many
cities' sacrifice |
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He celebrated her sad
funeral, |
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Himself in presence
shall unfold at large. |
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ACT I. |
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SCENE I. |
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Enter Orcanes, King of Natolia, |
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Gazellus, Viceroy of Byron, |
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Uribassa, and their Train, with drums and trumpets. |
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Orc. Egregious viceroys of these eastern parts, |
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Placed by the issue of
great Bajazeth, |
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And sacred lord, the
mighty Callapine, |
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Who lives in Egypt,
prisoner to that slave |
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Which kept his father
in an iron cage; − |
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Now have we marched
from fair Natolia |
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Two hundred leagues,
and on Danubius' banks |
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Our warlike host, in
complete armour, rest, |
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Where Sigismund, the
king of Hungary, |
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Should meet our person
to conclude a truce. |
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What! Shall we parley
with the Christiän, |
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Or cross the stream,
and meet him in the field? |
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Gaz. King of
Natolia, let us treat of peace; |
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We are all glutted
with the Christians' blood, |
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And have a greater foe
to fight against, − |
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Proud Tamburlaine,
that, now in Asiä, |
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Near Guyron's head
doth set his conquering feet, |
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And means to fire
Turkey as he goes. |
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'Gainst him, my lord,
must you address your power. |
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Urib. Besides, King Sigismund hath brought from
Christendom |
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More than his camp of
stout Hungarians − |
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Sclavonians, Almain
rutters, Muffes, and Danes, |
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That with the halberd,
lance, and murdering axe, |
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Will hazard that we
might with surety hold. |
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Orc. Though
from the shortest northern parallel, |
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Vast Grantland,
compassed with the Frozen Sea, |
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(Inhabited with tall
and sturdy men, |
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Giants as big as hugy
Polypheme,) |
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Millions of soldiers
cut the arctic line, |
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Bringing the strength
of Europe to these arms, |
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Our Turkey blades
shall glide through all their throats, |
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And make this champion
mead a bloody fen. |
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Danubius' stream, that
runs to Trebizond, |
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Shall carry, wrapped
within his scarlet waves, |
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As martial presents to
our friends at home, |
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The slaughtered bodies
of these Christiäns. |
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The Terrene Main,
wherein Danubius' falls, |
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Shall by this battle
be the Bloody Sea. |
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The wandering sailors
of proud Italy |
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Shall meet those
Christians, fleeting with the tide, |
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Beating in heaps
against their argosies, |
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And make fair Europe,
mounted on her bull, |
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Trapped with the
wealth and riches of the world, |
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Alight, and wear a
woeful mourning weed. |
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Gaz. Yet,
stout Orcanes, Prorex of the world, |
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Since Tamburlaine hath
mustered all his men, |
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Marching from Cairo
northward with his camp, |
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To Alexandria and the
frontier towns, |
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Meaning to make a
conquest of our land, |
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'Tis requisite to
parley for a peace |
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With Sigismund, the
King of Hungary, |
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And save our forces
for the hot assaults |
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Proud Tamburlaine
intends Natolia. |
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Orc. Viceroy
of Byron, wisely hast thou said. |
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My realm, the centre
of our empery, |
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Once lost, all Turkey
would be overthrown, |
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And for that cause the
Christians shall have peace. |
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Sclavonians, Almain
rutters, Muffes, and Danes, |
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Fear not Orcanes, but
great Tamburlaine; |
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Nor he, but Fortune,
that hath made him great. |
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We have revolted
Grecians, Albanese, |
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Sicilians, Jews,
Arabians, Turks, and Moors, |
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Natolians, Syrians,
black Egyptiäns, |
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Illyrians, Thracians,
and Bithynians, |
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Enough to swallow
forceless Sigismund, |
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Yet scarce enough t'
encounter Tamburlaine. |
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He brings a world of
people to the field, |
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From Scythia to the
oriental plage |
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Of India, where raging
Lantchidol |
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Beats on the regions
with his boisterous blows, |
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That never seaman yet
discoverèd. |
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All Asia is in arms
with Tamburlaine, |
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Even from the midst of
fiery Cancer's tropic, |
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To Amazonia under
Capricorn, |
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And thence as far as
Archipelago, |
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All Afric is in arms
with Tamburlaine; |
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Therefore, viceroy,
the Christians must have peace. |
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Enter Sigismund, Frederick, Baldwin, |
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and their Train, with drums and trumpets. |
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Sigis. Orcanes, (as our legates promised thee,) |
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We, with our peers,
have crossed Danubius' stream |
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To treat of friendly
peace or deadly war. |
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Take which thou wilt,
for as the Romans used, |
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I here present thee
with a naked sword; |
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Wilt thou have war,
then shake this blade at me; |
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If peace, restore it
to my hands again, |
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And I will sheathe it
to confirm the same. |
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Orc. Stay,
Sigismund. Forget'st thou I am he |
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That with the cannon
shook Vienna walls, |
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And made it dance upon
the continent, |
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As when the massy
substance of the earth |
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Quiver about the
axle-tree of Heaven? |
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Forget'st thou that I
sent a shower of darts, |
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Mingled with powdered
shot and feathered steel, |
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So thick upon the
blink-eyed burghers' heads, |
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That thou thyself,
then county palatine, |
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The King of Boheme,
and the Austric Duke, |
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Sent heralds out,
which basely on their knees, |
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In all your names,
desired a truce of me? |
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Forget'st thou that to
have me raise my siege, |
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Wagons of gold were
set before my tents, |
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Stamped with the
princely fowl, that in her wings |
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Carries the fearful
thunderbolts of Jove? |
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How canst thou think
of this, and offer war? |
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Sigis. Vienna
was besieged, and I was there, |
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Then county palatine,
but now a king, |
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And what we did was in
extremity. |
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But now, Orcanes, view
my royal host |
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That hides these
plains, and seems as vast and wide, |
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As doth the desert of
Arabia |
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To those that stand on
Bagdet's lofty tower; |
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Or as the ocean to the
traveller |
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That rests upon the
snowy Apennines; |
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And tell me whether I
should stoop so low, |
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Or treat of peace with
the Natolian king. |
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Gaz. Kings
of Natolia and of Hungary, |
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We came from Turkey to
confirm a league, |
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And not to dare each
other to the field. |
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A friendly parley
might become ye both. |
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Fred. And we from Europe, to the same intent, |
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Which if your general
refuse or scorn, |
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Our tents are pitched,
our men stand in array, |
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Ready to charge you
ere you stir your feet. |
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Orc. So
prest are we: but yet, if Sigismund |
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Speak as a friend, and
stand not upon terms, |
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Here is his sword,
− let peace be ratified |
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On these conditions,
specified before, |
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Drawn with advice of
our ambassadors. |
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Sigis. Then
here I sheathe it, and give thee my hand, |
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Never to draw it out,
or manage arms |
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Against thyself or thy
confederates, |
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But whilst I live will
be a truce with thee. |
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Orc. But,
Sigismund, confirm it with an oath, |
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And swear in sight of
Heaven and by thy Christ. |
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Sigis. By him
that made the world and saved my soul, |
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The son of God and
issue of a Maid, |
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Sweet Jesus Christ, I
solemnly protest |
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And vow to keep this
peace inviolable. |
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Orc. By
sacred Mahomet, the friend of God, |
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Whose holy Alcoran
remains with us, |
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Whose glorious body,
when he left the world, |
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Closed in a coffin
mounted up the air, |
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And hung on stately
Mecca's temple roof, |
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I swear to keep this
truce inviolable; |
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Of whose conditions
and our solemn oaths, |
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Signed with our hands,
each shall retain a scroll |
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As memorable witness
of our league. |
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Now, Sigismund, if any
Christian king |
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Encroach upon the
confines of thy realm, |
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Send word, Orcanes of
Natolia |
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Confirmed this league
beyond Danubius' stream, |
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And they will,
trembling, sound a quick retreat; |
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So am I feared among
all nations. |
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Sigis. If any
heathen potentate or king |
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Invade Natolia,
Sigismund will send |
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A hundred thousand
horse trained to the war, |
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And backed by stout
lanciers of Germany, |
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The strength and
sinews of the Imperial seat. |
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Orc. I thank
thee, Sigismund; but, when I war, |
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All Asia Minor,
Africa, and Greece, |
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Follow my standard and
my thundering drums. |
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Come, let us go and
banquet in our tents. |
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I will dispatch chief
of my army hence |
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To fair Natolia and to
Trebizond, |
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To stay my coming
'gainst proud Tamburlaine. |
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Friend Sigismund and
peers of Hungary, |
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Come, banquet and
carouse with us a while, |
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And then depart we to
our territories. |
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[Exeunt.] |
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ACT I, SCENE II. |
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Enter Callapine with Almeda, his Keeper. |
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Call. Sweet Almeda, pity the ruthful plight |
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Of Callapine, the son
of Bajazeth, |
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Born to be monarch of
the western world, |
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Yet here detained by
cruèl Tamburlaine. |
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Alm. My lord, I pity it, and with my heart |
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Wish your release; but
he whose wrath is death, |
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My sovereign lord,
renownèd Tamburlaine, |
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Forbids you further
liberty than this. |
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Call. Ah, were I now but half so eloquent |
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To paint in words what
I'll perform in deeds, |
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I know thou wouldst
depart from hence with me. |
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Alm. Not for all Afric; therefore move me not. |
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Call. Yet hear me speak, my gentle Almeda. |
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Alm. No speech to that end, by your favour, sir. |
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Call. By Cairo runs − |
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Alm. No talk of running, I tell you, sir. |
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Call. A little further, gentle Almeda. |
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Alm. Well, sir, what of this? |
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Call. By Cairo runs to Alexandria bay |
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Darote’s stream,
wherein at anchor lies |
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A Turkish galley of my
royal fleet, |
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Waiting my coming to
the river side, |
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Hoping by some means I
shall be released, |
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Which, when I come
aboard, will hoist up sail, |
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And soon put forth
into the Terrene Sea, |
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Where, 'twixt the
isles of Cyprus and of Crete, |
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We quickly may in
Turkish seas arrive. |
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Then shalt thou see a
hundred kings and more, |
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Upon their knees, all
bid me welcome home, |
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Amongst so many crowns
of burnished gold, |
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Choose which thou
wilt, all are at thy command; |
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A thousand galleys,
manned with Christian slaves, |
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I freely give thee,
which shall cut the Straits, |
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And bring armados from
the coasts of Spain |
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Fraughted with gold of
rich America; |
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The Grecian virgins
shall attend on thee, |
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Skilful in music and
in amorous lays, |
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As fair as was
Pygmalion's ivory girl |
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Or lovely Iö
metamorphosèd. |
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With naked negroes
shall thy coach be drawn, |
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And, as thou rid'st in
triumph through the streets, |
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The pavement
underneath thy chariot wheels |
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With Turkey carpets
shall be coverèd, |
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And cloth of arras
hung about the walls, |
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Fit objects for thy
princely eye to pierce. |
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A hundred bassoes,
clothed in crimson silk, |
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Shall ride before thee
on Barbarian steeds; |
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And when thou goest, a
golden canopy |
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Enchased with precious
stones, which shine as bright |
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As that fair veil that
covers all the world, |
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When Phoebus, leaping
from his hemisphere, |
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Descendeth downward to
th' Antipodes, |
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And more than this
− for all I cannot tell. |
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Alm. How far hence lies the galley, say you? |
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Call. Sweet Almeda, scarce half a league from hence. |
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Alm. But need we not be spied going aboard? |
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Call. Betwixt the hollow hanging of a hill, |
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And crookèd bending of
a craggy rock, |
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The sails wrapt up,
the mast and tacklings down, |
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She lies so close that
none can find her out. |
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Alm. I like that well. But tell me, my lord, if I should |
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let you go, would you
be as good as your word? Shall |
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I be made a king for
my labour? |
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Call. As I am Callapine the Emperor, |
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And by the hand of
Mahomet I swear |
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Thou shalt be crowned
a king, and be my mate. |
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Alm. Then here I swear, as I am Almeda, |
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Your keeper under
Tamburlaine the Great, |
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(For that's the style
and title I have yet,) |
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Although he sent a
thousand armèd men |
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To intercept this
haughty enterprise, |
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Yet would I venture to
conduct your grace, |
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And die before I
brought you back again. |
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Call. Thanks, gentle Almeda; Then let us haste, |
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Lest time be past, and
lingering let us both. |
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Alm. When you will, my lord, I am ready. |
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Call. Even straight; and farewell, cursèd
Tamburlaine. |
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Now go I to revenge my
father's death. |
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[Exeunt.] |
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ACT I, SCENE III. |
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Enter Tamburlaine , Zenocrate, and their three sons, |
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Calyphas, Amyras, and Celebinus, |
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with drums and trumpets. |
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Tamb. Now, bright Zenocrate, the world's fair eye, |
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Whose beams illuminate
the lamps of Heaven, |
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Whose cheerful looks
do clear the cloudy air, |
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And clothe it in a
crystal livery; |
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Now rest thee here on
fair Larissa plains, |
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Where Egypt and the
Turkish empire part, |
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Between thy sons, that
shall be emperors, |
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And every one
commander of a world. |
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Zeno. Sweet Tamburlaine, when wilt thou leave these arms, |
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And save thy sacred
person free from scathe, |
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And dangerous chances
of the wrathful war? |
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Tamb. When Heaven shall cease to move on both the poles, |
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And when the ground,
whereon my soldiers march, |
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Shall rise aloft and
touch the hornèd moon, |
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And not before, my
sweet Zenocrate. |
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Sit up, and rest thee
like a lovely queen; |
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So, now she sits in
pomp and majesty, |
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When these, my sons,
more precious in mine eyes |
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Than all the wealthy
kingdoms I subdued, |
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Placed by her side,
look on their mother's face |
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But yet methinks their
looks are amorous, |
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Not martial as the
sons of Tamburlaine: |
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Water and air, being
symbolized in one, |
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Argue their want of
courage and of wit; |
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Their hair, as white
as milk, and soft as down, |
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(which should be like
the quills of porcupines, |
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As black as jet, and
hard as iron or steel) |
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Bewrays they are too
dainty for the wars; |
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Their fingers made to
quaver on a lute, |
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Their arms to hang
about a lady's neck, |
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Their legs to dance
and caper in the air, |
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Would make me think
them bastards, not my sons, |
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But that I know they
issued from thy womb, |
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That never looked on
man but Tamburlaine. |
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Zeno. My gracious lord, they have their mother's looks, |
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But when they list,
their conquering father's heart. |
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This lovely boy, the
youngest of the three, |
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Not long ago bestrid a
Scythian steed, |
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Trotting the ring, and
tilting at a glove, |
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Which when he tainted
with his slender rod, |
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He reined him
straight, and made him so curvet, |
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As I cried out for
fear he should have fall'n. |
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Tamb. Well done, my boy, thou shalt have shield and lance, |
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Armour of proof,
horse, helm, and curtle-axe, |
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And I will teach thee
how to charge thy foe, |
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And harmless run among
the deadly pikes. |
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If thou wilt love the
wars and follow me, |
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Thou shalt be made a
king and reign with me, |
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Keeping in iron cages
emperors. |
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If thou exceed thy
elder brothers' worth, |
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And shine in cómplete
virtue more than they, |
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Thou shalt be king
before them, and thy seed |
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Shall issue crownèd
from their mother's womb. |
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Celeb. Yes, father: you shall see me, if I live, |
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Have under me as many
kings as you, |
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And march with such a
multitude of men, |
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As all the world shall
tremble at their view. |
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Tamb. These words assure me, boy, thou art my son. |
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When I am old and
cannot manage arms, |
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Be thou the scourge and
terror of the world. |
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Amyr. Why may not I, my lord, as well as he, |
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Be termed the scourge
and terror to the world? |
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Tamb. Be all a scourge and terror to the world, |
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Or else you are not
sons of Tamburlaine. |
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Caly. But while my brothers follow arms, my lord, |
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Let me accompany my
gracious mother; |
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They are enough to
conquer all the world, |
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And you have won
enough for me to keep. |
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Tamb. Bastardly boy, sprung from some coward's loins, |
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And not the issue of
great Tamburlaine! |
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Of all the provinces I
have subdued, |
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Thou shalt not have a
foot, unless thou bear |
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A mind courageous and
invincible; |
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For he shall wear the
crown of Persiä |
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Whose head hath
deepest scars, whose breast most wounds, |
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Which being wroth
sends lightning from his eyes, |
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And in the furrows of
his frowning brows |
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Harbours revenge, war,
death, and cruèlty; |
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For in a field, whose
superficiës |
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Is covered with a
liquid purple veil |
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And sprinkled with the
brains of slaughtered men, |
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My royal chair of
state shall be advanced; |
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And he that means to
place himself therein, |
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Must armèd wade up to
the chin in blood. |
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Zeno. My lord, such speeches to our princely sons |
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Dismay their minds
before they come to prove |
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The wounding troubles
angry war affords. |
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Celeb. No, madam, these are speeches fit for us, |
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For if his chair were
in a sea of blood, |
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I would prepare a ship
and sail to it, |
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Ere I would lose the
title of a king. |
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Amyr. And I would strive to swim through pools of blood, |
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Or make a bridge of
murdered carcasses, |
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Whose arches should be
framed with bones of Turks, |
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Ere I would lose the
title of a king. |
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Tamb. Well, lovely boys, you shall be emperors both, |
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Stretching your
conquering arms from East to West; |
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And, sirrah, if you
mean to wear a crown, |
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When we shall meet the
Turkish deputy |
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And all his viceroys,
snatch it from his head, |
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And cleave his
pericranium with thy sword. |
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Caly. If any man will hold him, I will strike |
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And cleave him to the
channel with my sword. |
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Tamb. Hold him, and cleave him too, or I'll cleave thee, |
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For we will march
against them presently. |
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Theridamas, Techelles,
and Casane |
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Promised to meet me on
Larissa plains |
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With hosts apiece
against this Turkish crew; |
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For I have sworn by
sacred Mahomet |
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To make it parcel of
my empery; |
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The trumpets sound,
Zenocrate; they come. |
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Enter Theridamas and his Train, |
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with drums and trumpets. |
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Tamb. Welcome Theridamas, King of Argier. |
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Ther. My lord, the great and mighty Tamburlaine, − |
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Arch-monarch of the
world, I offer here |
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My crown, myself, and
all the power I have, |
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In all affection at
thy kingly feet. |
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Tamb. Thanks, good Theridamas. |
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Ther. Under my colours march ten thousand Greeks; |
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And of Argier and
Afric's frontier towns |
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Twice twenty thousand
valiant men-at-arms, |
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All which have sworn
to sack Natolia. |
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Five hundred
brigandines are under sail, |
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Meet for your service
on the sea, my lord, |
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That, launching from
Argier to Tripoli, |
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Will quickly ride
before Natolia, |
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And batter down the
castles on the shore. |
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Tamb. Well said, Argier; receive thy crown again. |
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Enter Techelles and Usumcasane together. |
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Tamb. Kings of Morocco and of Fez, welcome. |
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Usum. Magnificent and peerless Tamburlaine! |
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I and my neighbour
king of Fez have brought |
|
To aid thee in this
Turkish expedition, |
|
A hundred thousand
expert soldiërs: |
|
From Azamor to Tunis
near the sea |
|
Is Barbary unpeopled
for thy sake, |
|
And all the men in
armour under me, |
|
Which with my crown I
gladly offer thee. |
|
Tamb. Thanks, king of Morocco, take your crown again. |
|
Tech. And, mighty Tamburlaine, our earthly god, |
|
Whose looks make this
inferior world to quake, |
|
I here present thee
with the crown of Fez, |
|
And with an host of
Moors trained to the war, |
|
Whose coal-black faces
make their foes retire, |
|
And quake for fear, as
if infernal Jove, |
|
Meaning to aid thee in
these Turkish arms, |
|
Should pierce the
black circumference of hell |
|
With ugly Furies
bearing fiery flags, |
|
And millions of his
strong tormenting spirits. |
|
From strong Tesella
unto Bilèdull, |
|
All Barbary is
unpeopled for thy sake. |
|
Tamb. Thanks, king of Fez; take here thy crown again. |
|
Your presence, loving
friends and fellow kings, |
|
Makes me to surfeit in
conceiving joy. |
|
If all the crystal
gates of Jove's high court |
|
Were opened wide, and
I might enter in |
|
To see the state and
majesty of Heaven, |
|
It could not more
delight me than your sight. |
|
Now will we banquet on
these plains a while, |
|
And after march to
Turkey with our camp, |
|
In number more than
are the drops that fall |
|
When Boreas rents a
thousand swelling clouds; |
|
And proud Orcanes of
Natolia |
|
With all his viceroys
shall be so afraid, |
|
That though the
stones, as at Deucalion's flood, |
|
Were turned to men, he
should be overcome. |
|
Such lavish will I
make of Turkish blood, |
|
That Jove shall send
his wingèd messenger |
|
To bid me sheath my
sword and leave the field; |
|
The sun, unable to
sustain the sight, |
|
Shall hide his head in
Thetis' watery lap, |
|
And leave his steeds
to fair Boötes' charge; |
|
For half the world
shall perish in this fight. |
|
But now, my friends,
let me examine ye; |
|
How have ye spent your
absent time from me? |
|
Usum. My lord, our men of Barbary have marched |
|
Four hundred miles
with armour on their backs, |
|
And lain in leaguer
fifteen months and more; |
|
For, since we left you
at the Soldan's court, |
|
We have subdued the
southern Guallatia |
|
And all the land unto
the coast of Spain; |
|
We kept the narrow
Strait of Jubaltèr, |
|
And made Canaria call
us kings and lords; |
|
Yet never did they
recreate themselves, |
|
Or cease one day from
war and hot alarms, |
|
And therefore let them
rest awhile, my lord. |
|
Tamb. They shall, Casane, and 'tis time, i' faith. |
|
Tech. And I have marched along the river Nile |
|
To Machda, where the
mighty Christian priest, |
|
Called John the Great,
sits in a milk-white robe, |
|
Whose triple mitre I
did take by force, |
|
And made him swear
obedience to my crown. |
|
From thence unto
Cazates did I march, |
|
Where Amazonians met
me in the field, |
|
With whom (being
women), I vouchsafed a league, |
|
And with my power did
march to Zanzibar, |
|
The western part of
Afric, where I viewed |
|
The Ethiopian sea,
rivers and lakes, |
|
But neither man nor
child in all the land; |
|
Therefore I took my
course to Manico, |
|
Where, unresisted, I
removed my camp; |
|
And, by the coast of
Byather, at last |
|
I came to Cubar, where
the negroes dwell, |
|
And conquering that,
made haste to Nubia. |
|
There, having sacked
Borno, the kingly seat, |
|
I took the king and
led him bound in chains |
|
Unto Damascus, where I
stayed before. |
|
Tamb. Well done, Techelles. What saith Theridamas? |
|
Ther. I left the confines and the bounds of Afric, |
|
And made a voyage into
Europe, |
|
Where by the river
Tyrosa I subdued |
|
Stoka, Padalia, and
Codemia; |
|
Then crossed the sea
and came to Oblia |
|
And Nigra Sylva, where
the devils dance, |
|
Which in despite of
them, I set on fire. |
|
From thence I crossed
the gulf called by the name |
|
Mare Majore of the
inhabitants. |
|
Yet shall my soldiers
make no period, |
|
Until Natolia kneel
before your feet. |
|
Tamb. Then will we triumph, banquet, and carouse; |
|
Cooks shall have
pensions to provide us cates, |
|
And glut us with the
dainties of the world; |
|
Lachryma Christi and
Calabrian wines |
|
Shall common soldiers
drink in quaffing bowls, |
|
Ay, liquid gold (when
we have conquered him) |
|
Mingled with coral and
with orient pearl. |
|
Come, let us banquet
and carouse the whiles. |
|
[Exeunt.] |
|
ACT II. |
|
SCENE I. |
|
Enter Sigismund, Frederick, Baldwin, |
|
with their trains. |
|
Sigis. Now
say, my lords of Buda and Bohemia, |
|
What motion is it that
inflames your thoughts, |
|
And stirs your valours
to such sudden arms? |
|
Fred. Your majesty remembers, I am sure, |
|
What cruèl slaughter
of our Christian bloods |
|
These heathenish Turks
and pagans lately made |
|
Betwixt the city Zula
and Danubius; |
|
How through the midst
of Varna and Bulgaria, |
|
And almost to the very
walls of Rome, |
|
They have, not long
since, massacred our camp. |
|
It resteth now, then,
that your majesty |
|
Take all advantages of
time and power, |
|
And work revenge upon
these infidels. |
|
Your highness knows,
for Tamburlaine's repair, |
|
That strikes a terror
to all Turkish hearts, |
|
Natolia hath dismissed
the greatest part |
|
Of all his army,
pitched against our power, |
|
Betwixt Cutheia and
Orminius' mount, |
|
And sent them marching
up to Belgasar, |
|
Acantha, Antioch, and
Caesarea, |
|
To aid the kings of
Soria and Jerusalem. |
|
Now then, my lord,
advantage take thereof, |
|
And issue suddenly
upon the rest; |
|
That in the fortune of
their overthrow, |
|
We may discourage all
the pagan troop |
|
That dare attempt to
war with Christiäns. |
|
Sigis. But
calls not then your grace to memory |
|
The league we lately
made with king Orcanes, |
|
Confirmed by oath and
articles of peace, |
|
And calling Christ for
record of our truths? |
|
This should be
treachery and violence |
|
Against the grace of
our professiön. |
|
Bald. No whit, my lord, for with such infidels, |
|
In whom no faith nor
true religion rests, |
|
We are not bound to
those accomplishments |
|
The holy laws of
Christendom enjoin; |
|
But as the faith,
which they profanely plight, |
|
Is not by necessary
policy |
|
To be esteemed
assurance for ourselves, |
|
So what we vow to them
should not infringe |
|
Our liberty of arms
and victory. |
|
Sigis. Though
I confess the oaths they undertake |
|
Breed little strength
to our security, |
|
Yet those infirmities
that thus defame |
|
Their faiths, their
honours, and religiön, |
|
Should not give us
presumption to the like. |
|
Our faiths are sound,
and must be consummate, |
|
Religious, righteous,
and inviolate. |
|
Fred. Assure your grace, 'tis superstitiön |
|
To stand so strictly
on dispensive faith; |
|
And should we lose the
opportunity |
|
That God hath given to
venge our Christians' death |
|
And scourge their foul
blasphemous paganism, |
|
As fell to Saul, to
Balaam, and the rest, |
|
That would not kill
and curse at God's command, |
|
So surely will the vengeance
of the Highest, |
|
And jealous anger of
His fearful arm, |
|
Be poured with rigour
on our sinful heads, |
|
If we neglect this
offered victory. |
|
Sigis. Then
arm, my lords, and issue suddenly, |
|
Giving commandment to
our general host, |
|
With expedition to
assail the Pagan, |
|
And take the victory
our God hath given. |
|
[Exeunt.] |
|
ACT II, SCENE II. |
|
Enter Orcanes, Gazellus, and Uribassa, |
|
with their trains. |
|
Orc. Gazellus, Uribassa, and the rest, |
|
Now will we march from
proud Orminius' mount |
|
To fair Natolia, where
our neighbour kings |
|
Expect our powèr and
our royal presence, |
|
T' encounter with the
cruèl Tamburlaine, |
|
That nigh Larissa
sways a mighty host, |
|
And with the thunder
of his martial tools |
|
Makes earthquakes in
the hearts of men and Heaven. |
|
Gaz. 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 Scythiän, |
|
Yet should our
courages and steelèd crests, |
|
And numbers more than
infinite of men, |
|
Be able to withstand
and conquer him. |
|
Urib. Methinks I see how glad the Christian king |
|
Is made for joy of
your admitted truce, |
|
That could not but
before be terrified |
|
With unacquainted
powèr of our host. |
|
Enter a Messenger. |
|
Mess. Arm,
dread sovereign, and my noble lords! |
|
The treacherous army
of the Christiäns, |
|
Taking advantage of
your slender power, |
|
Comes marching on us,
and determines straight |
|
To bid us battle for
our dearest lives. |
|
Orc. Traitors, villains, damnèd Christiäns! |
|
Have I not here the
articles of peace, |
|
And solemn covenants
we have both confirmed, |
|
He by his Christ, and
I by Mahomet? |
|
Gaz. Hell
and confusion light upon their heads, |
|
That with such treason
seek our overthrow, |
|
And care so little for
their prophet, Christ! |
|
Orc. Can
there be such deceit in Christiäns, |
|
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 powèr 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 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 everywhere 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
esteemed omnipotent, |
|
If thou wilt prove
thyself a perfect God, |
|
Worthy the worship of
all faithful hearts, |
|
Be now revenged upon
this traitor's soul, |
|
And make the powèr I
have left behind |
|
(too little to defend
our guiltless lives,) |
|
Sufficient to
discomfort and confound |
|
The trustless force of
those false Christiäns. − |
|
To arms, my lords!
"On Christ" still let us cry! |
|
If there be Christ, we
shall have victory. |
|
[Exeunt.] |
|
ACT II, SCENE III. |
|
Alarms of battle within. −Enter Sigismund, wounded. |
|
Sigis. Discomfited is all the Christian host, |
|
And God hath thundered
vengeance from on high, |
|
For my accursed and
hateful perjury. − |
|
O just and dreadful
punisher of sin, |
|
Let the dishonour of
the pains I feel, |
|
In this my mortal
well-deservèd 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! |
|
[He dies.] |
|
Enter Orcanes, Gazellus, Uribassa, and others. |
|
Orc. Now lie
the Christians bathing in their bloods, |
|
And Christ or Mahomet
hath been my friend. |
|
Gaz. See
here the perjured traitor Hungary, |
|
Bloody and breathless
for his villainy. |
|
Orc. 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 Zoäcum, that
fruit of bitterness, |
|
That in the midst of
fire is ingraffed, |
|
Yet flourishes as
Flora in her pride, |
|
With apples like the
heads of damnèd 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 referred to
justice of his Christ, |
|
And to his power,
which here appears as full |
|
As rays of Cynthia to
the clearest sight? |
|
Gaz. 'Tis
but the fortune of the wars, my lord, |
|
Whose power is often
proved a miracle. |
|
Orc. Yet in
my thoughts shall Christ be honourèd, |
|
Not doing Mahomet an
injury, |
|
Whose power had share
in this our victory; |
|
And since this
miscreant hath disgraced his faith, |
|
And died a traitor
both to Heaven and earth, |
|
We will both watch and
ward shall keep his trunk |
|
Amidst these plains
for fowls to prey upon. |
|
Go, Uribassa, give it
straight in charge. |
|
Urib. I will,
my lord. |
|
[Exit Uribassa.] |
|
Orc. And
now, Gazellus, let us haste and meet |
|
Our army, and our
brothers of Jerusalem, |
|
Of Soria, Trebizond,
and Amasia, |
|
And happily, with full
Natolian bowls |
|
Of Greekish wine, now
let us celebrate |
|
Our happy conquest and
his angry fate. |
|
[Exeunt.] |
|
ACT II, SCENE IV. |
|
Zenocrate is discovered in her bed of state, |
|
with Tamburlaine sitting by her. |
|
About the bed are three Physicians tempering potions. |
|
Around are Theridamas, Techelles, Usumcasane, |
|
and her three Sons. |
|
Tamb. Black is the beauty of the brightest day; |
|
The golden ball of
Heaven's eternal fire, |
|
That danced with glory
on the silver waves, |
|
Now wants the fuèl
that inflamed 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 ivory bowers, |
|
And tempered 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 looked
upon this loathsome earth, |
|
Shine downwards now no
more, but deck the heavens |
|
To entertain divine
Zenocrate. |
|
The crystal springs,
whose taste illuminates |
|
Refinèd eyes with an
eternal sight, |
|
Like trièd 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
physic do her good? |
|
Phys. My lord, your majesty shall soon perceive: |
|
And if she pass this
fit, the worst is past. |
|
Tamb. Tell me, how fares my fair Zenocrate? |
|
Zeno. I fare, my lord, as other empresses, |
|
That, when this frail
and transitory flesh |
|
Hath sucked the
measure of that vital air |
|
That feeds the body
with his dated health, |
|
Wane with enforced and
necessary change. |
|
Tamb. 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 fixèd stars; |
|
Whose absence makes
the sun and moon as dark |
|
As when, opposed 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 of my death! |
|
Zeno. 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, |
|
Turned to despair,
would break my wretched breast, |
|
And fury would
confound my present rest. |
|
But let me die, my
love; yet 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
lengthened 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. |
|
Some music, and my fit
will cease, my lord. |
|
[They call music.] |
|
Tamb. 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 used 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 lived
before the siege of Troy, |
|
Helen (whose beauty
summoned Greece to arms, |
|
And drew a thousand
ships to Tenedos,) |
|
Had not been named in
Homer's Iliad; |
|
Her name had been in
every line he wrote. |
|
Or, had those wanton
poets, for whose birth |
|
Old Rome was proud,
but gazed a while on her, |
|
Nor Lesbia nor Corinna
had been named; |
|
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
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
snatched my love from hence, |
|
Meaning to make her
stately queen of Heaven. |
|
What god soever holds
thee in his arms, |
|
Giving thee nectar and
ambrosiä, |
|
Behold me here, divine
Zenocrate, |
|
Raving, impatient,
desperate, and mad, |
|
Breaking my steelèd
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! |
|
Ther. 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 watered all the earth; |
|
If grief, our murdered
hearts have strained forth blood; |
|
Nothing prevails, for
she is dead, my lord. |
|
Tamb. “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. – |
|
[To the body] |
|
Where'er her soul be,
thou shalt stay with me, |
|
Embalmed with cassia,
ambergris, and myrrh, |
|
Not lapped in lead,
but in a sheet of gold, |
|
And till I die thou
shalt not be interred. |
|
Then in as rich a tomb
as Mausolus' |
|
We both will rest and
have one epitaph |
|
Writ in as many
several languages |
|
As I have conquered
kingdoms with my sword. |
|
This cursèd town will
I consume with fire, |
|
Because this place
bereaved me of my love: |
|
The houses, burnt,
will look as if they mourned; |
|
And here will I set up
her statuä, |
|
And march about it
with my mourning camp, |
|
Drooping and pining
for Zenocrate. |
|
[The scene closes.] |
|
ACT III. |
|
SCENE I. |
|
Enter the kings of Trebizond and Soria, |
|
one bearing a sword and the other a sceptre; |
|
next Orcanes King of Natolia and the King of Jerusalem |
|
with the imperial crown; after them enters Callapine, |
|
and after him, other lords and Almeda. |
|
Orcanes and the King of Jerusalem crown Callapine, |
|
and the others give him the sceptre. |
|
Orc. 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, Trebizond, Soria, |
|
Amasia, Thracia,
Illyria, Carmania, and all the |
|
hundred and thirty
kingdoms late contributory to his |
|
mighty father. Long
live Callapinus, emperor of |
|
Turkey! |
|
Call. 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
strengthened as when Bajazeth, |
|
My royal lord and
father, filled the throne, |
|
Whose cursèd fate hath
so dismembered it, |
|
Then should you see
this thief of Scythia, |
|
This proud usurping
king of Persiä, |
|
Do us such honour and
supremacy, |
|
Bearing the vengeance
of our father's wrongs, |
|
As all the world
should blot his dignities |
|
Out of the book of
baseborn infamies. |
|
And now I doubt not
but your royal cares |
|
Hath so provided for
this cursèd foe, |
|
That, since the heir
of mighty Bajazeth, |
|
(An emperor so
honoured for his virtues,) |
|
Revives the spirits of
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 followed long |
|
The martial sword of
mighty Tamburlaine, |
|
Will now retain her
old inconstancy, |
|
And raise our honours
to as high a pitch, |
|
In this our strong and
fortunate encounter; |
|
For so hath Heaven
provided my escape |
|
From all the cruèlty
my soul sustained, |
|
By this my friendly
keeper's happy means, |
|
That Jove, surcharged
with pity of our wrongs, |
|
Will pour it down in
showers on our heads, |
|
Scourging the pride of
cursèd Tamburlaine. |
|
Orc. I have
a hundred thousand men in arms; |
|
Some, that in conquest
of the perjured Christiän, |
|
Being a handful to a
mighty host, |
|
Think them in number
yet sufficiënt |
|
To drink the river
Nile or Euphrates, |
|
And for their power
enow to win the world. |
|
K. of Jer. And I as many from
Jerusalem, |
|
Judaea, Gaza, and
Scalonia’s bounds, |
|
That on Mount Sinai,
with their ensigns spread, |
|
Look like the
parti-coloured clouds of Heaven |
|
That show fair weather
to the neighbour morn. |
|
K. of Treb. And I
as many bring from Trebizond, |
|
Chio, Famastro, and
Amasiä, |
|
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 cursèd Scythian
sets on all their towns, |
|
And vow to burn the
villain's cruèl heart. |
|
K. of Soria. From
Soria with seventy thousand strong, |
|
Ta'en from Aleppo,
Soldino, Tripoli, |
|
And so unto my city of
Damascus, |
|
I march to meet and
aid my neighbour kings; |
|
All which will join
against this Tamburlaine, |
|
And bring him captive
to your highness' feet. |
|
Orc. Our
battle then, in martial manner pitched, |
|
According to our
ancient use, shall bear |
|
The figure of the
semicircled moon, |
|
Whose horns shall
sprinkle through the tainted air |
|
The poisoned brains of
this proud Scythian. |
|
Call. 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. |
|
Alm. That's no matter, sir, for being a king; for |
|
Tamburlaine came up of
nothing. |
|
K. of Jer. Your majesty may choose
some 'pointed time, |
|
Performing all your
promise to the full; |
|
'Tis nought for your
majesty to give a kingdom. |
|
Call. Then will I shortly keep my promise, Almeda. |
|
Alm. Why, I thank your majesty. |
|
[Exeunt.] |
|
ACT III, SCENE II. |
|
Enter Tamburlaine with his three sons and Usumcasne; |
|
four Attendants bearing the hearse of Zenocrate; |
|
the drums sounding a doleful march; |
|
the town burning. |
|
Tamb. So burn the turrets of this cursèd town, |
|
Flame to the highest
region of the air, |
|
And kindle heaps of
exhalations, |
|
That being fiery
meteors may presage |
|
Death and destruction
to th' inhabitants! |
|
Over my zenith hang a
blazing star, |
|
That may endure till
Heavèn be dissolved, |
|
Fed with the fresh
supply of earthly dregs, |
|
Threatening a dearth
and famine to this land! |
|
Flying dragons,
lightning, fearful thunderclaps, |
|
Singe these fair
plains, and make them seem as black |
|
As is the island where
the Furies mask, |
|
Compassed with Lethe,
Styx, and Phlegethon, |
|
Because my dear’st
Zenocrate is dead. |
|
Caly. This pillar, placed 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. |
|
Amyr. And here this mournful streamer shall be placed, |
|
Wrought with the
Persian and th’ Egyptian arms, |
|
To signify she was a
princess born |
|
And wife unto the
monarch of the East. |
|
Celeb. And here this table as a register |
|
Of all her virtues and
perfectiöns. |
|
Tamb. And here the picture of Zenocrate, |
|
To show her beauty
which the world admired; |
|
Sweet picture of
divine Zenocrate, |
|
That, hanging here,
will draw the gods from Heaven, |
|
And cause the stars
fixed in the southern arc, |
|
(Whose lovely faces
never any viewed |
|
That have not passed
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 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. |
|
Caly. If I had wept a sea of tears for her, |
|
It would not ease the
sorrows I sustain. |
|
Amyr. As is that town, so is my heart consumed |
|
With grief and sorrow
for my mother's death. |
|
Celeb. My mother's death hath mortified my mind, |
|
And sorrow stops the
passage of my speech. |
|
Tamb. 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,
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 grounds,
what figure serves you best, |
|
For which the
quinque-angle form is meet, |
|
Because the corners
there may fall more flat |
|
Whereas the fort may
fittest be assailed, |
|
And sharpest where th'
assault is desperate. |
|
The ditches must be
deep; the counterscarps |
|
Narrow and steep, the
walls made high and broad; |
|
The bulwarks and the
rampires large and strong, |
|
With cavalieros 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 and covered ways, |
|
To keep the bulwark
fronts from battery, |
|
And parapets to hide
the musketeers; |
|
Casemates to place the
great 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 walls from breach. |
|
When this is learned
for service on the land, |
|
By plain and easy
demonstratiön |
|
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, |
|
Fenced with the
concave of a monstrous rock, |
|
Invincible by nature
of the place. |
|
When this is done,
then are ye soldiers, |
|
And worthy sons of
Tamburlaine the Great. |
|
Caly. My lord, but this is dangerous to be done; |
|
We may be slain or
wounded ere we learn. |
|
Tamb. Villain! art thou the son of Tamburlaine, |
|
And fear'st to die, or
with a 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, |
|
Whose shattered limbs,
being tossed 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 conquered kings, |
|
And, with his host
marched round about the earth, |
|
Quite void of scars
and clear from any wound, |
|
That by the wars lost
not a dram of blood, |
|
And see him lance 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
enamelèd, |
|
Enchased with
diamonds, sapphires, rubies, |
|
And fairest pearl of
wealthy India, |
|
Were mounted here
under a canopy, |
|
And I sat down,
clothed with the massy robe |
|
That late adorned 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 you of a wound? |
|
Caly. I know not what I should think of it. Methinks |
|
it is a pitiful sight. |
|
Celeb. 'Tis nothing: give me a wound, father. |
|
Amyr. And me another, my lord. |
|
Tamb. Come, sirrah, give me your arm. |
|
Celeb. Here, father, cut it bravely, as you did your own. |
|
Tamb. 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 |
|
Towàrds Techelles and
Theridamas, |
|
That we have sent
before to fire the towns, |
|
The towers and cities
of these hateful Turks, |
|
And hunt that coward
faintheart runaway, |
|
With that accursèd
traitor, Almeda, |
|
Till fire and sword
have found them at a bay. |
|
Usum. I long to pierce his bowèls with my sword, |
|
That hath betrayed my
gracious sovereign, − |
|
That cursed and damnèd
traitor, Almeda. |
|
Tamb. Then let us see if coward Callapine |
|
Dare levy arms against
our puïssance, |
|
That we may tread upon
his captive neck, |
|
And treble all his
father's slaveries. |
|
[Exeunt.] |
|
ACT III, SCENE III. |
|
Enter Techelles, Theridamas, and their Train. |
|
Ther. Thus have we marched northward from Tamburlaine, |
|
Unto the frontier
point of Soria, |
|
And this is Balsera,
their chiefest hold, |
|
Wherein is all the
treasure of the land. |
|
Tech. Then let us bring our light artillery, |
|
Minions, falc'nets,
and sakers to the trench, |
|
Filling the ditches
with the walls' wide breach, |
|
And enter in to seize
upon the hold. |
|
How say you, soldiërs?
shall we or not? |
|
Soldiers. Yes,
my lord, yes; come, let's about it. |
|
Ther. But stay a while; −summon a parley, drum. − |
|
It may be they will
yield it quietly, |
|
Knowing two kings, the
friends to Tamburlaine, |
|
Stand at the walls
with such a mighty power. |
|
[A parley sounded.] |
|
The Captain appears on the walls, |
|
With Olympia his Wife, and his Son. |
|
Capt. What require you, my masters? |
|
Ther. Captain, that thou yield up thy hold to us. |
|
Capt. To you! Why, do you think me weary of it? |
|
Tech. Nay, Captain, thou art weary of thy life, |
|
If thou withstand the
friends of Tamburlaine! |
|
Ther. These pioners of Argier in Africa, |
|
Even in the cannon's
face, shall raise a hill |
|
Of earth and faggots
higher than thy fort, |
|
And over thy argins
and covered 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. |
|
Tech. 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. |
|
Capt. Were you, that are the friends of Tamburlaine, |
|
Brothers to 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 come, |
|
Yet I am resolute, and
so, farewell. |
|
[Captain, Olympia and their Son retire from the walls.] |
|
Ther. Pioners, away! And where I stuck the stake, |
|
Intrench with those
dimensions I prescribed; |
|
Cast up the earth
towárds 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.] |
|
Tech. A hundred horse shall scout about the plains |
|
To spy what force
comes to relieve the hold. |
|
Both we, Theridamas,
will entrench 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. |
|
Ther. Then see the bringing of our ordnance |
|
Along the trench into
the battery, |
|
Where we will have
gabions of six foot broad |
|
To save our cannoniers
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 soldier's cry, |
|
Make deaf the air and
dim the crystal sky. |
|
Tech. Trumpets and drums, alarum presently! |
|
And, soldiers, play
the men; the hold is yours! |
|
[Exeunt.] |
|
ACT III, SCENE IV. |
|
[Alarm within. −] |
|
Enter the Captain, with his wife Olympia, and his Son. |
|
Olym. 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 conquered hold. |
|
Capt. A deadly bullet gliding through my side |
|
Lies heavy on my
heart; I cannot live. |
|
I feel my liver
pierced, and all my veins, |
|
That there begin and
nourish every part, |
|
Mangled and torn, and all
my entrails bathed |
|
In blood that
straineth from their orifex. |
|
Farewell, sweet wife!
Sweet son, farewell! I die. |
|
[He dies.] |
|
Olym. Death, whither art thou gone, that both we live? |
|
Come back again, sweet
Death, and strike us both. |
|
One minute end 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 cruèlty, |
|
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,
dispatch me, or I'll kill myself; |
|
For think ye I can
live and see him dead? |
|
Give me your knife,
good mother, or strike home: |
|
The Scythians shall not
tyrannize on me. |
|
Sweet mother, strike,
that I may meet my father. |
|
[She stabs him, and he dies.] |
|
Olym. 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. |
|
Ther. How now, madam! What are you doing? |
|
Olym. Killing myself, as I have done my son, |
|
Whose body, with his
father's, I have burnt, |
|
Lest cruèl Scythians
should dismember him. |
|
Tech. 'Twas bravely done, and like a soldier's wife. |
|
Thou shalt with us to
Tamburlaine the Great, |
|
Who, when he hears how
resolute thou art, |
|
Will match thee with a
viceroy or a king. |
|
Olym. My lord deceased was dearer unto me |
|
Than any viceroy,
king, or emperor; |
|
And for his sake here
will I end my days. |
|
Ther. 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
superficiës |
|
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 strews the way
with brains of slaughtered men; |
|
By whose proud side
the ugly Furies run, |
|
Hearkening when he
shall bid them plague the world; |
|
Over whose zenith,
clothed in windy air, |
|
And eagle's wings
joined to her feathered breast, |
|
Fame hovereth,
sounding of 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! |
|
Olym. 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. |
|
Tech. Madam, sooner shall fire consume us both |
|
Than scorch a face so
beautiful as this, |
|
In frame of which
Nature hath showed more skill |
|
Than when she gave
eternal chaos form, |
|
Drawing from it the
shining lamps of Heaven. |
|
Ther. Madam, I am so far in love with you, |
|
That you must go with
us - no remedy. |
|
Olym. Then carry me, I care not, where you will, |
|
And let the end of
this my fatal journey |
|
Be likewise end to my
accursèd life. |
|
Tech. No, madam, but the beginning of your joy: |
|
Come willingly,
therefore. |
|
Ther. 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 silver,
and the pearl we got, |
|
Rifling this fort,
divide in equal shares: |
|
This lady shall have
twice so much again |
|
Out of the coffers of
our treasury. |
|
[Exeunt.] |
|
ACT III, SCENE V. |
|
Enter Callapine, Orcanes, Almeda, |
|
And the Kings of Jerusalem, Trebizond, and Soria, |
|
with their Trains. |
|
− to them Enters a Messenger. |
|
Mess.
Renownèd emperor, mighty Callapine, |
|
God's great lieutenant
over all the world! |
|
Here at Aleppo, with a
host of men, |
|
Lies Tamburlaine, this
king of Persià, |
|
(in numbers more than
are the quivering leaves |
|
Of Ida's forest, where
your highness' hounds, |
|
With open cry, pursue
the wounded stag,) |
|
Who means to girt
Natolia's walls with siege, |
|
Fire the town, and
overrun the land. |
|
Call. My royal army is as great as his, |
|
That, from the bounds
of Phrygia to the sea |
|
Which washeth Cyprus
with his brinish waves, |
|
Covers the hills, the
valleys, and the plains. |
|
Viceroys and peers of
Turkey, play the men! |
|
Whet all your swords
to mangle Tamburlaine, |
|
His sons, his captains
and his followers! |
|
By Mahomet! not one of
them shall live; |
|
The field wherein this
battle shall be fought |
|
Forever term the
Persian’s sepulchre, |
|
In memory of this our
victory! |
|
Orc. Now, he
that calls himself the scourge of Jove, |
|
The emperor of the
world, and earthly god, |
|
Shall end the warlike
progress he intends, |
|
And travel headlong to
the lake of hell, |
|
Where legiöns of
devils, (knowing he must die |
|
Here in Natolia by
your highness' hands,) |
|
All brandishing their
brands of quenchless fire, |
|
Stretching their
monstrous paws, grin with their teeth, |
|
And guard the gates to
entertain his soul. |
|
Call. Tell me, viceroys, the number of your men, |
|
And what our army
royal is esteemed. |
|
K. of Jer. From Palestina and
Jerusalem, |
|
Of Hebrews three score
thousand fighting men |
|
Are come, since last
we showed your majesty. |
|
Orc. So from
Arabia Desert, and the bounds |
|
Of that sweet land,
whose brave metropolis |
|
Re-edified the fair
Semiramis, |
|
Came forty thousand
warlike foot and horse, |
|
Since last we numbered
to your majesty. |
|
K. of Treb. From Trebizond
in Asiä the Less, |
|
Naturalized Turks and
stout Bithynians |
|
Came to my bands, full
fifty thousand more, |
|
(That, fighting, know
not what retreat doth mean, |
|
Nor e'er return but
with the victory,) |
|
Since last we numbered
to your majesty. |
|
K. of Soria. Of
Sorians from Halla is repaired, |
|
And neighbour cities
of your highness' land, |
|
Ten thousand horse and
thirty thousand foot, |
|
Since last we numbered
to your majesty; |
|
So that the army royal
is esteemed |
|
Six hundred thousand
valiant fighting men. |
|
Call. Then
welcome, Tamburlaine, unto thy death. |
|
Come, puissant
viceroys, let us to the field, |
|
(the Persians'
sepulchre,) and sacrifice |
|
Mountains of
breathless men to Mahomet, |
|
Who now, with Jove,
opens the firmament |
|
To see the slaughter
of our enemies. |
|
Enter Tamburlaine with his three Sons, |
|
and Usumcasane, and others. |
|
Tamb. How now, Casane? See a knot of kings, |
|
Sitting as if they
were a-telling riddles. |
|
Usum. My lord, your presence makes them pale and wan: |
|
Poor souls! they look
as if their deaths were near. |
|
Tamb. And so he is, Casane; I am here; |
|
But yet I'll save
their lives, and make them slaves. − |
|
Ye petty kings of
Turkey, I am come, |
|
As Hector did into the
Grecian camp, |
|
To overdare the pride
of Grӕcia, |
|
And set his warlike
person to the view |
|
Of fierce Achilles,
rival of his fame: |
|
I do you honour in the
simile; |
|
For if I should, as
Hector did Achilles, |
|
(the worthiest knight
that ever brandished sword,) |
|
Challenge in combat
any of you all, |
|
I see how fearfully ye
would refuse, |
|
And fly my glove as
from a scorpion. |
|
Orc. Now
thou art fearful of thy army's strength, |
|
Thou wouldst with
overmatch of person fight; |
|
But, shepherd's issue,
baseborn Tamburlaine, |
|
Think of thy end! this
sword shall lance thy throat. |
|
Tamb. Villain! the shepherd's issue, (at whose birth |
|
Heaven did afford a
gracious aspect, |
|
And joined those stars
that shall be opposite |
|
Even till the
dissolution to the world, |
|
And never meant to
make a conqueror |
|
So famous as is mighty
Tamburlaine,) |
|
Shall so torment thee
and that Callapine, |
|
That, like a roguish
runaway, suborned |
|
That villain there,
that slave, that Turkish dog, |
|
To false his service
to his sovereign, |
|
As ye shall curse the
birth of Tamburlaine. |
|
Call. Rail not, proud Scythian! I shall now revenge |
|
My father's vile
abuses, and mine own. |
|
K. of Jer. By Mahomet! he shall be
tied in chains, |
|
Rowing with Christians
in a brigandine |
|
About the Grecian
isles to rob and spoil, |
|
And turn him to his
ancient trade again: |
|
Methinks the slave
should make a lusty thief. |
|
Call. Nay,
when the battle ends, all we will meet |
|
And sit in council to
invent some pain |
|
That most may vex his
body and his soul. |
|
Tamb. Sirrah, Callapine! I'll hang a clog about your |
|
neck for running away
again. You shall not trouble me |
|
thus to come and fetch
you. |
|
But as for you,
viceroys, you shall have bits, |
|
And, harnessed like my
horses, draw my coach; |
|
And when ye stay, be
lashed with whips of wire. |
|
I'll have you learn to
feed on provender |
|
And in a stable lie
upon the planks. |
|
Orc. But,
Tamburlaine, first thou shalt kneel to us, |
|
And humbly crave a
pardon for thy life. |
|
K. of Treb. The
common soldiers of our mighty host |
|
Shall bring thee bound
unto the general's tent. |
|
K. of Soria. And all have jointly sworn thy cruèl death, |
|
Or bind thee in
eternal torments' wrath. |
|
Tamb. Well, sirs, diet yourselves; you know I shall |
|
have occasion shortly
to journey you. |
|
Celeb. See, father, |
|
How Almeda the jailor
looks upon us. |
|
Tamb. Villain! Traitor! damnèd fugitive! |
|
I'll make thee wish
the earth had swallowed thee! |
|
See’st thou not death
within my wrathful looks? |
|
Go, villain, cast thee
headlong from a rock, |
|
Or rip thy bowels and
rend out thy heart |
|
T' appease my wrath!
or else I'll torture thee, |
|
Searing thy hateful
flesh with burning irons |
|
And drops of scalding
lead, while all thy joints |
|
Be racked and beat
asunder with the wheel; |
|
For, if thou liv'st,
not any element |
|
Shall shroud thee from
the wrath of Tamburlaine. |
|
Call. Well, in despite of thee, he shall be king. |
|
Come, Almeda; receive
this crown of me. |
|
I here invest thee
king of Ariadan, |
|
Bordering on Marè
Rosso, near to Mecca. |
|
Orc. What!
Take it, man. |
|
Alm. [To Tamburlaine] Good my lord, let me take it. |
|
Call. Dost thou ask him leave? Here; take it. |
|
Tamb. Go to, sirrah, take your crown, and make up |
|
the half dozen. So,
sirrah, now you are a king, you |
|
must give arms. |
|
Orc. So he
shall, and wear thy head in his scutcheon. |
|
Tamb. No; let him hang a bunch of keys on his |
|
standard, to put him
in remembrance he was a jailor, |
|
that, when I take him,
I may knock out his brains with |
|
them, and lock you in
the stable, when you shall come |
|
sweating from my
chariot. |
|
K. of Treb. Away;
let us to the field, that the villain |
|
may be slain. |
|
Tamb. Sirrah, prepare whips, and bring my chariot to |
|
my tent; for, as soon
as the battle is done, I'll ride |
|
in triumph through the
camp. |
|
Enter Theridamas, Techelles, and their Train. |
|
How now, ye petty
kings? Lo, here are bugs |
|
Will make the hair
stand upright on your heads, |
|
And cast your crowns
in slavery at their feet. − |
|
Welcome, Theridamas
and Techelles, both! |
|
See ye this rout, and
know ye this same king? |
|
Ther. Ay, my lord; he was Callapine's keeper. |
|
Tamb. Well now you see he is a king; look to him, |
|
Theridamas, when we
are fighting, lest he hide his |
|
crown as the foolish
king of Persia did. |
|
K. of Soria. No,
Tamburlaine; he shall not be put to that exigent, I warrant thee. |
|
Tamb. You know not, sir. − |
|
But now, my followers
and my loving friends, |
|
Fight as you ever did,
like conquerors, |
|
The glory of this
happy day is yours. |
|
My stern aspéct shall
make fair Victory, |
|
Hovering betwixt our
armies, light on me, |
|
Loaden with laurel
wreaths to crown us all. |
|
Tech. I smile to think how when this field is fought |
|
And rich Natolia ours,
our men shall sweat |
|
With carrying pearl
and treasure on their backs. |
|
Tamb. You shall be princes all, immediately; |
|
Come, fight, ye Turks,
or yield us victory. |
|
Orc. No; we
will meet thee, slavish Tamburlaine. |
|
[Exeunt.] |
|
ACT IV. |
|
SCENE I. |
|
Alarm within. – |
|
Amyras and Celebinus issue from the tent |
|
where Calyphas sits asleep. |
|
Amyr. Now in their glories shine the golden crowns |
|
Of these proud Turks,
much like so many suns |
|
That half dismay the
majesty of Heaven. |
|
Now, brother, follow
we our father's sword, |
|
That flies with fury
swifter than our thoughts, |
|
And cuts down armies
with his conquering wings. |
|
Celeb. Call forth our lazy brother from the tent, |
|
For if my father miss
him in the field, |
|
Wrath, kindled in the
furnace of his breast, |
|
Will send a deadly
lightning to his heart. |
|
Amyr. Brother, ho! What, given so much to sleep! |
|
You cannot leave it,
when our enemies' drums |
|
And rattling cannons
thunder in our ears |
|
Our proper ruin and
our father's foil? |
|
Caly. Away, ye fools! My father needs not me, |
|
Nor you, in faith, but
that you will be thought |
|
More childish-valorous
than manly-wise. |
|
If half our camp
should sit and sleep with me, |
|
My father were enough
to scare the foe. |
|
You do dishonour to
his majesty, |
|
To think our helps
will do him any good. |
|
Amyr. What, dar'st thou then be absent from the field, |
|
Knowing my father
hates thy cowardice, |
|
And oft hath warned
thee to be still in field, |
|
When he himself amidst
the thickest troops |
|
Beats down our foes,
to flesh our taintless swords? |
|
Caly. I know, sir, what it is to kill a man; |
|
It works remorse of
consciënce in me; |
|
I take no pleasure to be
murderous, |
|
Nor care for blood
when wine will quench my thirst. |
|
Celeb. O cowardly boy! Fie! for shame, come forth! |
|
Thou dost dishonour
manhood and thy house. |
|
Caly. Go, go, tall stripling, fight you for us both, |
|
And take my other
towàrd brother here, |
|
For person like to
prove a second Mars. |
|
'Twill please my mind
as well to hear you both |
|
Have won a heap of
honour in the field |
|
And left your slender
carcasses behind, |
|
As if I lay with you
for company. |
|
Amyr. You will not go, then? |
|
Caly. You
say true. |
|
Amyr. Were all the lofty mounts of Zona Mundi, |
|
That fill the midst of
farthest Tartary, |
|
Turned into pearl and
proffered for my stay, |
|
I would not bide the
fury of my father, |
|
When, made a victor in
these haughty arms, |
|
He comes and finds his
sons have had no shares |
|
In all the honours he
proposed for us. |
|
Caly. Take you the honour, I will take my ease; |
|
My wisdom shall excuse
my cowardice. |
|
I go into the field
before I need! |
|
[Alarmums. − Amyras and Celebinus run out.] |
|
The bullets fly at
random where they list; |
|
And should I go and
kill a thousand men, |
|
I were as soon
rewarded with a shot, |
|
And sooner far than he
that never fights; |
|
And should I go and do
nor harm nor good, |
|
I might have harm,
which all the good I have, |
|
Joined with my
father's crown, would never cure. |
|
I'll to cards.
Perdicas! |
|
Enter Perdicas. |
|
Perd. Here, my lord. |
|
Caly. Come, thou and I will go to cards to drive away |
|
the time. |
|
Perd. Content, my lord; but what shall we play for? |
|
Caly. Who shall kiss the fairest of the Turks' concubines first, when
my father hath conquered them. |
|
Perd. Agreed, i' faith. |
|
[They play.] |
|
Caly. They say I am a coward, Perdicas, and I fear as |
|
little their
taratantaras, their swords or their cannons, |
|
as I do a naked lady
in a net of gold, and, for fear I |
|
should be afraid,
would put it off and come to bed |
|
with me. |
|
Perd. Such a fear, my lord, would never make ye
retire. |
|
Caly. I would my father would let me be put in the |
|
front of such a battle
once to try my valour. |
|
[Alarms within.] |
|
What a coil they keep!
I believe there will be some |
|
hurt done anon amongst
them. |
|
[Exeunt.] |
|
ACT IV, SCENE II. |
|
Enter Tamburlaine, Theridamas, Techelles, |
|
Usumcasane, Amyras, and Celebinus, |
|
leading in Orcanes and the Kings of Jerusalem, |
|
Trebizond and Soria. |
|
Tamb. See now, ye slaves, my children stoop your pride |
|
And lead your bodies
sheeplike to the sword. − |
|
Bring them, my boys,
and tell me if the wars |
|
Be not a life that may
illústrate gods, |
|
And tickle not your
spirits with desire |
|
Still to be trained in
arms and chivalry? |
|
Amyr. Shall we let go these kings again, my lord, |
|
To gather greater
numbers 'gainst our power, |
|
That they may say it
is not chance doth this, |
|
But matchless strength
and magnanimity? |
|
Tamb. No, no, Amyras; tempt not fortune so; |
|
Cherish thy valour
still with fresh supplies, |
|
And glut it not with
stale and daunted foes. |
|
But where's this
coward villain, not my son, |
|
But traitor to my name
and majesty? |
|
[He goes in and brings Calyphas out.] |
|
Image of sloth and
picture of a slave, |
|
The obloquy and scorn
of my renown! |
|
How may my heart, thus
firèd with mine eyes, |
|
Wounded with shame and
killed with discontent, |
|
Shroud any thought may
hold my striving hands |
|
From martial justice
on thy wretched soul? |
|
Ther. Yet pardon him, I pray your majesty. |
|
Tech. & Usum. Let all of us entreat your highness' |
|
pardon. |
|
Tamb. Stand up, ye base, unworthy soldiërs! |
|
Know ye not yet the
argument of arms? |
|
Amyr. Good my lord, let him be forgiven for once, |
|
And we will force him
to the field hereafter. |
|
Tamb. Stand up, my boys, and I will teach ye arms, |
|
And what the jealousy
of wars must do. |
|
O Samarcanda, (where I
breathèd first, |
|
And joyed the fire of
this martial flesh,) − |
|
Blush, blush, fair
city, at thine honour's foil, |
|
And shame of nature,
which Jaertis' stream, |
|
Embracing thee with
deepest of his love, |
|
Can never wash from
thy distainèd brows! |
|
Here, Jove, receive his
fainting soul again; |
|
A form not meet to
give that subject essence |
|
Whose matter is the
flesh of Tamburlaine; |
|
Wherein an incorporeal
spirit moves, |
|
Made of the mould
whereof thyself consists, |
|
Which makes me
valiant, proud, ambitiöus, |
|
Ready to levy power
against thy throne, |
|
That I might move the
turning spheres of Heaven! |
|
For earth and all this
airy regiön |
|
Cannot contain the
state of Tamburlaine. |
|
[He stabs Calyphas.] |
|
By Mahomet! thy mighty
friend, I swear, |
|
In sending to my issue
such a soul, |
|
Created of the massy
dregs of earth, |
|
The scum and tartar of
the elements, |
|
Wherein was neither
courage, strength, or wit, |
|
But folly, sloth, and
damnèd idleness, |
|
Thou hast procured a
greater enemy |
|
Than he that darted
mountains at thy head, |
|
Shaking the burden
mighty Atlas bears; |
|
Whereat thou trembling
hid'st thee in the air, |
|
Clothed with a pitchy
cloud for being seen. |
|
And now, ye cankered
curs of Asiä, |
|
That will not see the
strength of Tamburlaine, |
|
Although it shine as
brightly as the sun; |
|
Now you shall feel the
strength of Tamburlaine, |
|
And, by the state of
his supremacy, |
|
Approve the difference
'twixt himself and you. |
|
Orc. Thou
show'st the difference 'twixt ourselves and thee, |
|
In this thy barbarous
damnèd tyranny. |
|
K. of Jer. Thy victories are grown
so violent, |
|
That shortly Heaven,
filled with the meteors |
|
Of blood and fire thy
tyrannies have made, |
|
Will pour down blood
and fire on thy head, |
|
Whose scalding drops
will pierce thy seething brains, |
|
And, with our bloods,
revenge our bloods on thee. |
|
Tamb. Villains! these terrors, and these tyrannies |
|
(If tyrannies war's
justice ye repute,) |
|
I execute, enjoined me
from above, |
|
To scourge the pride
of such as Heaven abhors; |
|
Nor am I made
arch-monarch of the world, |
|
Crowned and invested
by the hand of Jove |
|
For deeds of bounty or
nobility; |
|
But since I exercise a
greater name, |
|
The scourge of God,
and terror of the world, |
|
I must apply myself to
fit those terms, |
|
In war, in blood, in
death, in cruèlty, |
|
And plague such
peasants as resist in me |
|
The power of Heaven's
eternal majesty. − |
|
Theridamas, Techelles,
and Casane, |
|
Ransack the tents and
the paviliöns |
|
Of these proud Turks,
and take their concubines, |
|
Making them bury this
effeminate brat; |
|
For not a common
soldier shall defile |
|
His manly fingers with
so faint a boy. |
|
Then bring those
Turkish harlots to my tent, |
|
And I'll dispose them
as it likes me best; |
|
Meanwhile, take him
in. |
|
Soldiers. We will, my lord. |
|
[Exeunt with the body of Calyphas.] |
|
K. of Jer. O damnèd monster! Nay, a
fiend of hell, |
|
Whose cruèlties are
not so harsh as thine, |
|
Nor yet imposed with
such a bitter hate! |
|
Orc. Revenge
it, Rhadamanth and Æäcus, |
|
And let your hates,
extended in his pains, |
|
Excel the hate
wherewith he pains our souls! |
|
K. of Treb. May never day give virtue to his eyes, |
|
Whose sight, composed
of fury and of fire, |
|
Doth send such stern
affections to his heart! |
|
K. of Soria. May
never spirit, vein, or artier, feed |
|
The cursèd substance
of that cruèl heart! |
|
But, wanting moisture
and remorseful blood, |
|
Dry up with anger, and
consume with heat! |
|
Tamb. Well, bark, ye dogs. I'll bridle all your tongues, |
|
And bind them close
with bits of burnished steel, |
|
Down to the channels
of your hateful throats; |
|
And, with the pains my
rigour shall inflict, |
|
I'll make ye roar,
that earth may echo forth |
|
The far-resounding
torments ye sustain: |
|
As when an herd of
lusty Cymbrian bulls |
|
Run mourning round
about the females' miss, |
|
And, stung with fury
of their following, |
|
Fill all the air with
troublous bellowing; |
|
I will, with engines
never exercised, |
|
Conquer, sack, and
utterly consume |
|
Your cities and your
golden palaces; |
|
And, with the flames
that beat against the clouds, |
|
Incense the heavens,
and make the stars to melt, |
|
As if they were the
tears of Mahomet, |
|
For hot consumption of
his country's pride; |
|
And, till by vision or
by speech I hear |
|
Immortal Jove say
“Cease, my Tamburlaine,” |
|
I will persist, a
terror to the world, |
|
Making the meteors
(that, like armèd men |
|
Are seen to march upon
the towers of Heaven) |
|
Run tilting round
about the firmament, |
|
And break their
burning lances in the air, |
|
For honour of my
wondrous victories. |
|
Come, bring them in to
our paviliön. |
|
[Exeunt.] |
|
ACT IV, SCENE III. |
|
Olympia discovered alone. |
|
Olym. Distressed Olympia, whose weeping eyes |
|
Since thy arrival here
beheld no sun, |
|
But closed within the
compass of a tent |
|
Have stained thy
cheeks, and made thee look like Death, |
|
Devise some means to
rid thee of thy life, |
|
Rather than yield to
his detested suit, |
|
Whose drift is only to
dishonour thee; |
|
And since this earth,
dewed with thy brinish tears, |
|
Affords no herbs whose
taste may poison thee, |
|
Nor yet this air, beat
often with thy sighs, |
|
Contagious smells and
vapors to infect thee, |
|
Nor thy close cave a
sword to murder thee; |
|
Let this invention be
the instrument. |
|
Enter Theridamas. |
|
Ther. Well met, Olympia; I sought thee in my tent, |
|
But when I saw the
place obscure and dark, |
|
Which with thy beauty
thou was’t wont to light, |
|
Enraged, I ran about
the fields for thee, |
|
Supposing amorous Jove
had sent his son, |
|
The wingèd Hermes, to
convey thee hence; |
|
But now I find thee,
and that fear is past. |
|
Tell me, Olympia, wilt
thou grant my suit? |
|
Olym. My lord and husband's death, with my sweet son's, |
|
(with whom I buried
all affectiöns |
|
Save grief and sorrow,
which torment my heart,) |
|
Forbids my mind to
entertain a thought |
|
That tends to love,
but meditate on death, |
|
A fitter subject for a
pensive soul. |
|
Ther. Olympia, pity him in whom thy looks |
|
Have greater operation
and more force |
|
Than Cynthia's in the
watery wilderness, |
|
For with thy view my
joys are at the full, |
|
And ebb again as thou
depart'st from me. |
|
Olym. Ah, pity me, my lord! and draw your sword, |
|
Making a passage for
my troubled soul, |
|
Which beats against
this prison to get out, |
|
And meet my husband
and my loving son. |
|
Ther. Nothing but still thy husband and thy son! |
|
Leave this, my love,
and listen more to me: |
|
Thou shalt be stately
queen of fair Argier; |
|
And, clothed in costly
cloth of massy gold, |
|
Upon the marble
turrets of my court |
|
Sit like to Venus in
her chair of state, |
|
Commanding all thy
princely eye desires; |
|
And I will cast off
arms to sit with thee, |
|
Spending my life in
sweet discourse of love. |
|
Olym. No such discourse is pleasant in mine ears, |
|
But that where every
period ends with death, |
|
And every line begins
with death again. |
|
I cannot love, to be
an emperèss. |
|
Ther. Nay lady, then, if nothing will prevail, |
|
I'll use some other
means to make you yield: |
|
Such is the sudden
fury of my love, |
|
I must and will be
pleased, and you shall yield. |
|
Come to the tent
again. |
|
Olym. Stay now, my lord, and, will you save my honour, |
|
I'll give your grace a
present of such price |
|
As all the world
cannot afford the like. |
|
Ther. What is it? |
|
Olym. An ointment which a cunning alchemist, |
|
Distillèd from the
purest balsamum, |
|
And simplest extracts
of all minerals, |
|
In which th’ essential
form of marble stone, |
|
Tempered by science
metaphysical, |
|
And spells of magic from
the mouths of spirits, |
|
With which if you but
'noint your tender skin, |
|
Nor pistol, sword, nor
lance, can pierce your flesh. |
|
Ther. Why, madam, think ye to mock me thus palpably? |
|
Olym. To prove it, I will 'noint my naked throat, |
|
Which when you stab,
look on your weapon's point, |
|
And you shall see't
rebated with the blow. |
|
Ther. Why gave you not your husband some of it, |
|
If you loved him, and
it so preciöus? |
|
Olym. My purpose was, my lord, to spend it so, |
|
But was prevented by
his sudden end; |
|
And for a present,
easy proof hereof, |
|
That I dissemble not,
try it on me. |
|
Ther. I will, Olympia, and will keep it for |
|
The richest present of
this eastern world. |
|
[She anoints her throat.] |
|
Olym. Now stab, my lord, and mark your weapon's point, |
|
That will be blunted
if the blow be great. |
|
Ther. Here, then, Olympia. |
|
[Stabs her.] |
|
What, have I slain
her? Villain, stab thyself! |
|
Cut off this arm that
murderèd my love, |
|
In whom the learnèd
rabbis of this age |
|
Might find as many wondrous
miracles |
|
As in the theoria of
the world. |
|
Now hell is fairer
than Elysium; |
|
A greater lamp than
that bright eye of Heaven, |
|
From whence the stars
do borrow all their light, |
|
Wanders about the
black circumferènce; |
|
And now the damnèd
souls are free from pain, |
|
For every Fury gazeth
on her looks. |
|
Infernal Dis is
courting of my love, |
|
Inventing masques and
stately shows for her, |
|
Opening the doors of
his rich treasury |
|
To entertain this
queen of chastity; |
|
Whose body shall be
tombed with all the pomp |
|
The treasure of my
kingdom may afford. |
|
[Exit, with the body.] |
|
ACT IV, SCENE IV. |
|
Enter Tamburlaine, drawn in his chariot by the |
|
Kings of Trebizond and Soria with bits in their mouths: |
|
in his right hand he has a whip with which |
|
he scourgeth them, while his left hand holds the reins; |
|
then come Techelles, Theridamas, Usumcasane, |
|
Amyras, and Celebinus with Orcanes and the King of Jerusalem,
led by five or six common soldiers. |
|
Tamb. Holla, ye pampered jades of Asiä! |
|
What! can ye draw but
twenty miles a day, |
|
And have so proud a
chariot at your heels, |
|
And such a coachman as
great Tamburlaine, |
|
But from Asphaltis,
where I conquered you, |
|
To Byron here, where
thus I honour you! |
|
The horse that guide
the golden eye of Heaven |
|
And blow the morning
from their nosterils, |
|
Making their fiery
gait above the clouds, |
|
Are not so honoured in
their governor |
|
As you, ye slaves, in
mighty Tamburlaine. |
|
The headstrong jades
of Thrace Alcides tamed, |
|
That King Aegeus fed
with human flesh, |
|
And made so wanton
that they knew their strengths, |
|
Were not subdued with
valour more divine |
|
Than you by this
unconquered arm of mine. |
|
To make you fierce,
and fit my appetite, |
|
You shall be fed with
flesh as raw as blood, |
|
And drink in pails the
strongest muscadel; |
|
If you can live with
it, then live, and draw |
|
My chariot swifter
than the racking clouds; |
|
If not, then die like
beasts, and fit for nought |
|
But perches for the
black and fatal ravens. |
|
Thus am I right the
scourge of highest Jove; |
|
And see the figure of
my dignity |
|
By which I hold my
name and majesty! |
|
Amyr. Let me have coach, my lord, that I may ride, |
|
And thus be drawn by
these two idle kings. |
|
Tamb. Thy youth forbids such ease, my kingly boy. |
|
They shall tomorrow
draw my chariot, |
|
While these their
fellow-kings may be refreshed. |
|
Orc. O thou
that sway’st the region under earth, |
|
And art a king as
absolute as Jove, |
|
Come as thou didst in
fruitful Sicily, |
|
Surveying all the
glories of the land, |
|
And as thou took'st
the fair Proserpina, |
|
Joying the fruit of
Ceres' garden-plot, |
|
For love, for honour,
and to make her queen, |
|
So for just hate, for
shame, and to subdue |
|
This proud contemner
of thy dreadful power, |
|
Come once in fury and
survey his pride, |
|
Haling him headlong to
the lowest hell. |
|
Ther. Your majesty must get some bits for these, |
|
To bridle their
contemptuous, cursing tongues, |
|
That, like unruly,
never broken jades, |
|
Break through the
hedges of their hateful mouths, |
|
And pass their fixèd
bounds exceedingly. |
|
Tech. Nay, we will break the hedges of their mouths, |
|
And pull their kicking
colts out of their pastures. |
|
Usum. Your majesty already hath devised |
|
A mean, as fit as may
be, to restrain |
|
These coltish
coach-horse tongues from blasphemy. |
|
Celeb. How like you that, sir king? Why speak you not? |
|
K. of Jer. Ah, cruèl brat, sprung
from a tyrant's loins! |
|
How like his cursèd
father he begins |
|
To practice taunts and
bitter tyrannies! |
|
Tamb. Ay, Turk, I tell thee, this same boy is he |
|
That must (advanced in
higher pomp than this) |
|
Rifle the kingdoms I
shall leave unsacked, |
|
If Jove, esteeming me
too good for earth, |
|
Raise me to match the
fair Aldebaran, |
|
Above the threefold
astracism of Heaven, |
|
Before I conquer all
the triple world. |
|
Now, fetch me out the
Turkish concubines; |
|
I will prefer them for
the funeral |
|
They have bestowed on
my abortive son. |
|
[The Concubines are brought in.] |
|
Where are my common
soldiers now, that fought |
|
So lion-like upon
Asphaltis' plains? |
|
Soldiers. Here, my lord. |
|
Tamb. Hold ye, tall soldiers, take ye queens apiece − |
|
I mean such queens as
were kings' concubines. |
|
Take them; divide
them, and their jewèls too, |
|
And let them equally
serve all your turns. |
|
Soldiers. We thank your majesty. |
|
Tamb. Brawl not, I warn you, for your lechery: |
|
For every man that so
offends shall die. |
|
Orc. Injurious tyrant, wilt thou so defame |
|
The hateful fortunes
of thy victory, |
|
To exercise upon such
guiltless dames |
|
The violence of thy
common soldiers' lust? |
|
Tamb. Live continent, then, ye slaves, and meet not me |
|
With troops of harlots
at your slothful heels. |
|
Concubines. O pity
us, my lord, and save our honours. |
|
Tamb. Are ye not gone, ye villains, with your spoils? |
|
[They run away with the Concubines.] |
|
K. of Jer. O, merciless, infernal
cruèlty! |
|
Tamb. Save your honours! 'Twere but time indeed, |
|
Lost long before you
knew what honour meant. |
|
Ther. It seems they meant to conquer us, my lord, |
|
And make us jesting
pageants for their trulls. |
|
Tamb. And now themselves shall make our pageant, |
|
And common soldiers
jest with all their trulls. |
|
Let them take pleasure
soundly in their spoils, |
|
Till we prepare our
march to Babylon, |
|
Whither we next make
expeditiön. |
|
Tech. Let us not be idle, then, my lord, |
|
But presently be prest
to conquer it. |
|
Tamb. We will, Techelles. − Forward, then, ye jades. − |
|
Now crouch, ye kings
of greatest Asiä, |
|
And tremble when ye
hear this scourge will come |
|
That whips down cities
and controlleth crowns, |
|
Adding their wealth
and treasure to my store. |
|
The Euxine sea, north
to Natolia; |
|
The Terrene, west; the
Caspian, north northeast; |
|
And on the south,
Sinus Arabicus; |
|
Shall all be loaden
with the martial spoils |
|
We will convey with us
to Persiä. |
|
Then shall my native
city, Samarcanda, |
|
And crystal waves of
fresh Jaertis' stream, |
|
The pride and beauty
of her princely seat, |
|
Be famous through the
furthest continents; |
|
For there my palace-royal
shall be placed, |
|
Whose shining turrets
shall dismay the Heavens, |
|
And cast the fame of
Ilion's tower to hell. |
|
Thorough the streets,
with troops of conquered kings, |
|
I'll ride in golden
armour like the sun; |
|
And in my helm a
triple plume shall spring, |
|
Spangled with
diamonds, dancing in the air, |
|
To note me emperor of
the threefold world, |
|
Like to an almond tree
y-mounted high |
|
Upon the lofty and
celestial mount |
|
Of evergreen Selinus
quaintly decked |
|
With blooms more white
than Erycina's brows, |
|
Whose tender blossoms
tremble every one, |
|
At every little breath
through Heaven blown. |
|
Then in my coach, like
Saturn's royal son |
|
Mounted, his shining
chariot gilt with fire, |
|
And drawn with
princely eagles through the path |
|
Paved with bright
crystal and enchased with stars, |
|
When all the gods
stand gazing at his pomp, |
|
So will I ride through
Samarcanda streets, |
|
Until my soul,
dissevered from this flesh, |
|
Shall mount the
milk-white way, and meet him there. |
|
To Babylon, my lords;
to Babylon! |
|
[Exeunt.] |
|
ACT V. |
|
SCENE I. |
|
Enter the governor of Babylon, Maximus, |
|
and others upon the walls. |
|
Gov. What
saith Maximus? |
|
Max. My lord, the breach the enemy hath made |
|
Gives such assurance
of our overthrow, |
|
That little hope is
left to save our lives |
|
Or hold our city from
the conqueror's hands. |
|
Then hang out flags,
my lord, of humble truce, |
|
And satisfy the
people's general prayers, |
|
That Tamburlaine's
intolerable wrath |
|
May be suppressed by
our submissiön. |
|
Gov. Villain, respects thou more thy slavish life |
|
Than honour of thy
country or thy name? |
|
Is not my life and
state as dear to me, |
|
The city, and my
native country's weal, |
|
As anything of price
with thy conceit? |
|
Have we not hope, for
all our battered walls, |
|
To live secure and
keep his forces out, |
|
When this our famous
lake of Limnasphaltis |
|
Makes walls afresh
with everything that falls |
|
Into the liquid
substance of his stream, |
|
More strong than are
the gates of death or hell? |
|
What faintness should
dismay our courages, |
|
When we are thus
defensed against our foe, |
|
And have no terror but
his threatening looks? |
|
Enter a Citizen, who kneels to the Governor. |
|
Cit. My lord, if ever you did
deed of ruth, |
|
And now will work a
refuge to our lives, |
|
Offer submission, hang
up flags of truce, |
|
That Tamburlaine may
pity our distress, |
|
And use us like a
loving conqueror. |
|
Though this be held
his last day's dreadful siege, |
|
Wherein he spareth
neither man nor child, |
|
Yet are there
Christiäns of Georgia here, |
|
Whose state he ever
pitied and relieved, |
|
Would get his pardon,
if your grace would send. |
|
Gov. How is
my soul environèd with cares! |
|
And this etérnized
city, Babylon, |
|
Filled with a pack of
faint-heart fugitives |
|
That thus entreat
their shame and servitude! |
|
Enter another Citizen. |
|
2 Cit. My lord, if ever you will
win our hearts, |
|
Yield up the town and
save our wives and children; |
|
For I will cast myself
from off these walls |
|
Or die some death of
quickest violence, |
|
Before I bide the
wrath of Tamburlaine. |
|
Gov. Villains,
cowards, traitors to our state! |
|
Fall to the earth and
pierce the pit of hell, |
|
That legions of
tormenting spirits may vex |
|
Your slavish bosoms
with continual pains! |
|
I care not, nor the
town will ever yield, |
|
As long as any life is
in my breast. |
|
Enter Theridamas and Techelles, with Soldiers. |
|
Ther. Thou desperate governor of Babylon, |
|
To save thy life, and
us a little labour, |
|
Yield speedily the
city to our hands, |
|
Or else be sure thou
shalt be forced with pains, |
|
More exquisite than
ever traitor felt. |
|
Gov. Tyrant!
I turn the traitor in thy throat, |
|
And will defend it in
despite of thee. − |
|
Call up the soldiers
to defend these walls! |
|
Tech. Yield, foolish governor; we offer more |
|
Than ever yet we did
to such proud slaves |
|
As durst resist us
till our third day's siege. |
|
Thou seest us prest to
give the last assault, |
|
And that shall bide no
more regard of parley. |
|
Gov. Assault
and spare not; we will never yield. |
|
[Alarms; and they scale the walls.] |
|
Enter Tamburlaine drawn in his chariot |
|
by the Kings of Trebizond and Soria; |
|
Amyras, Celebinus, and Usumcasane; |
|
with the two spare Kings of Natolia (Orcanes) |
|
and Jerusalem led by soldiers. |
|
Tamb. The stately buildings of fair Babylon, |
|
Whose lofty pillars,
higher than the clouds, |
|
Were wont to guide the
seaman in the deep, |
|
Being carried thither
by the cannon's force, |
|
Now fill the mouth of
Limnasphaltis' lake, |
|
And make a bridge unto
the battered walls. |
|
Where Belus, Ninus,
and great Alexander |
|
Have rode in triumph,
triumphs Tamburlaine, |
|
Whose chariot wheels
have burst th' Assyrians' bones, |
|
Drawn with these kings
on heaps of carcasses. |
|
Now in the place where
fair Semiramis, |
|
Courted by kings and
peers of Asiä, |
|
Hath trod the
measures, do my soldiers march; |
|
And in the streets,
where brave Assyrian dames |
|
Have rid in pomp like
rich Saturniä, |
|
With furious words and
frowning visages |
|
My horsemen brandish
their unruly blades. |
|
Enter Theridamas and Techelles, |
|
bringing in the Governor of Babylon. |
|
Who have ye there, my
lords? |
|
Ther. The sturdy governor of Babylon, |
|
That made us all the
labour for the town, |
|
And used such slender
reckoning of your majesty. |
|
Tamb. Go, bind the villain; he shall hang in chains |
|
Upon the ruins of this
conquered town. − |
|
Sirrah, the view of
our vermilion tents, |
|
(which threatened more
than if the regiön |
|
Next underneath the
element of fire |
|
Were full of comets
and of blazing stars, |
|
Whose flaming trains
should reach down to the earth,) |
|
Could not affright
you; no, nor I myself, |
|
The wrathful messenger
of mighty Jove, |
|
That with his sword
hath quailed all earthly kings, |
|
Could not persuade you
to submissiön, |
|
But still the ports
were shut; villain! I say, |
|
Should I but touch the
rusty gates of hell, |
|
The triple-headed
Cerberus would howl |
|
And make black Jove to
crouch and kneel to me; |
|
But I have sent
volleys of shot to you, |
|
Yet could not enter
till the breach was made. |
|
Gov. Nor if
my body could have stopped the breach, |
|
Should’st thou have
entered, cruèl Tamburlaine. |
|
'Tis not thy bloody
tents can make me yield, |
|
Nor yet thyself, the
anger of the Highest; |
|
For though thy cannon
shook the city walls, |
|
My heart did never
quake or courage faint. |
|
Tamb. Well, now I'll make it quake; − go, draw him up, |
|
Hang him in chains upon
the city walls, |
|
And let my soldiers
shoot the slave to death. |
|
Gov. Vile
monster! born of some infernal hag, |
|
And sent from hell to
tyrannize on earth, |
|
Do all thy worst; nor
death, nor Tamburlaine, |
|
Torture, nor pain, can
daunt my dreadless mind. |
|
Tamb. Up with him, then; his body shall be scared. |
|
Gov. But,
Tamburlaine, in Limnasphaltis' lake |
|
There lies more gold
than Babylon is worth, |
|
Which, when the city
was besieged, I hid. |
|
Save but my life, and
I will give it thee. |
|
Tamb. Then for all your valour, you would save your life? |
|
Whereabout lies it? |
|
Gov. Under a
hollow bank, right opposite |
|
Against the western
gate of Babylon. |
|
Tamb. Go thither, some of you, and take his gold. − |
|
[Exeunt some Attendants.] |
|
The rest −
forward with executiön! |
|
Away with him hence,
let him speak no more. − |
|
I think I make your
courage something quail. − |
|
[Exeunt other Attendants with the Governor.] |
|
When this is done,
we'll march from Babylon, |
|
And make our greatest
haste to Persiä. |
|
These jades are
broken-winded and half tired; |
|
Unharness them, and
let me have fresh horse. |
|
[Attendants unharness the Kings of Trebizond |
|
and Soria.] |
|
So, now their best is
done to honour me, |
|
Take them and hang
them both up presently. |
|
K. of Treb. Vile
tyrant! Barbarous bloody Tamburlaine! |
|
Tamb. Take them away, Theridamas; see them dispatched. |
|
Ther. I will, my lord. |
|
[Exit with the Kings of Trebizond and Soria.] |
|
Tamb. Come, Asian viceroys, to your tasks a while, |
|
And take such fortune
as your fellows felt. |
|
Orc. First
let thy Scythian horse tear both our limbs, |
|
Rather than we should
draw thy chariot, |
|
And, like base slaves,
abject our princely minds |
|
To vile and
ignominious servitude. |
|
K. of Jer. Rather lend me thy
weapon, Tamburlaine, |
|
That I may sheathe it
in this breast of mine. |
|
A thousand deaths
could not torment our hearts |
|
More than the thought
of this doth vex our souls. |
|
Amyr. They will talk still, my lord, if you don't bridle them. |
|
Tamb. Bridle them, and let me to my coach. |
|
[They bridle the Kings of Natolia (Orcanes) |
|
and Jerusalem and harness them to the chariot. |
|
The Governor of Babylon is seen |
|
hanging in chains on the walls.] |
|
Enter Theridamas. |
|
Amyr. See now, my lord, how brave the captain hangs. |
|
Tamb. 'Tis brave indeed, my boy; well done. |
|
Shoot first, my lord,
and then the rest shall follow. |
|
Ther. Then have at him to begin withal. |
|
[Theridamas shoots at the Governor.] |
|
Gov. Yet
save my life, and let this wound appease |
|
The mortal fury of
great Tamburlaine. |
|
Tamb. No, though Asphaltis' lake were liquid gold, |
|
And offered me as
ransom for thy life, |
|
Yet should’st thou
die. − Shoot at him all at once. |
|
[They shoot.] |
|
So, now he hangs like
Bagdet's governor, |
|
Having as many bullets
in his flesh |
|
As there be breaches
in her battered wall. − |
|
Go now, and bind the
burghers hand and foot, |
|
And cast them headlong
in the city's lake. |
|
Tartars and Persians
shall inhabit there, |
|
And, to command the
city, I will build |
|
A lofty citadel that
all Africa, |
|
Which hath been
subject to the Persian king, |
|
Shall pay me tribute
for in Babylon. |
|
Tech. What shall be done with their wives and children, |
|
my lord? |
|
Tamb. Techelles, drown them all, man, woman, and child; |
|
Leave not a Babylonian
in the town. |
|
Tech. I will about it straight. Come, soldiers. |
|
[Exit with Soldiers.] |
|
Tamb. Now, Casane, where's the Turkish Alcoran, |
|
And all the heaps of
superstitious books |
|
Found in the temples
of that Mahomet, |
|
Whom I have thought a
god? They shall be burnt. |
|
Usum. Here they are, my lord. |
|
Tamb. Well said; let there be a fire presently. |
|
[They light a fire.] |
|
In vain, I see, men
worship Mahomet: |
|
My sword hath sent
millions of Turks to hell, |
|
Slew all his priests,
his kinsmen, and his friends, |
|
And yet I live
untouched by Mahomet. |
|
There is a God, full
of revenging wrath, |
|
From whom the thunder
and the lightning breaks, |
|
Whose scourge I am,
and him will I obey. |
|
So, Casane, fling them
in the fire. |
|
[They burn the books.] |
|
Now, Mahomet, if thou
have any power, |
|
Come down thyself and
work a miracle: |
|
Thou art not worthy to
be worshipped, |
|
That suffers flames of
fire to burn the writ |
|
Wherein the sum of thy
religion rests. |
|
Why send'st thou not a
furious whirlwind down |
|
To blow thy Alcoran up
to thy throne, |
|
Where men report thou
sit'st by God himself? |
|
Or vengeance on the
head of Tamburlaine |
|
That shakes his sword
against thy majesty, |
|
And spurns the
abstracts of thy foolish laws? − |
|
Well, soldiers,
Mahomet remains in hell; |
|
He cannot hear the
voice of Tamburlaine; |
|
Seek out another
Godhead to adore, |
|
The God that sits in
Heaven, if any god, |
|
For he is God alone,
and none but he. |
|
Enter Techelles. |
|
Tech. I have fulfilled your highness' will, my lord. |
|
Thousands of men,
drowned in Asphaltis' lake, |
|
Have made the waters
swell above the banks, |
|
And fishes, fed by
human carcasses, |
|
Amazed, swim up and
down upon the waves, |
|
As when they swallow
assafœtida, |
|
Which makes them fleet
aloft and gasp for air. |
|
Tamb. Well then, my friendly lords, what now remains, |
|
But that we leave
sufficient garrison |
|
And presently depart
to Persiä, |
|
To triumph after all
our victories? |
|
Ther. Ay, good my lord; let us in haste to Persia; |
|
And let this captain
be removed the walls |
|
To some high hill
about the city here. |
|
Tamb. Let it be so; about it, soldiërs; |
|
But stay; I feel
myself distempered suddenly. |
|
Tech. What is it dares distemper Tamburlaine? |
|
Tamb. Something, Techelles; but I know not what. − |
|
But forth, ye vassals!
whatsoe'er it be, |
|
Sickness or death can
never conquer me. |
|
[Exeunt.] |
|
ACT V, SCENE II. |
|
Enter Callapine, the King of Amasia, |
|
A Captain and Soldiers, with drums and trumpets. |
|
Call. King of Amasia, now our mighty host |
|
Marcheth in Asia
Major, where the streams |
|
Of Euphrates and
Tigris swiftly run, |
|
And here may we behold
great Babylon, |
|
Circled about with
Limnasphaltis' lake, |
|
Where Tamburlaine with
all his army lies, |
|
Which being faint and
weary with the siege, |
|
We may lie ready to
encounter him |
|
Before his host be
full from Babylon, |
|
And so revenge our
latest grievous loss, |
|
If God or Mahomet send
any aid. |
|
K. of Amas. Doubt
not, my lord, but we shall conquer him. |
|
The monster that hath
drunk a sea of blood, |
|
And yet gapes still
for more to quench his thirst, |
|
Our Turkish swords
shall headlong send to hell, |
|
And that vile carcass,
drawn by warlike kings, |
|
The fowls shall eat;
for never sepulchre |
|
Shall grace this
base-born tyrant Tamburlaine. |
|
Call. When I
record my parents' slavish life, |
|
Their cruèl death,
mine own captivity, |
|
My viceroys' bondage
under Tamburlaine, |
|
Methinks I could
sustain a thousand deaths |
|
To be revenged of all
his villainy. − |
|
Ah, sacred Mahomet! thou
that hast seen |
|
Millions of Turks
perish by Tamburlaine, |
|
Kingdoms made waste,
brave cities sacked and burnt, |
|
And but one host is
left to honour thee, |
|
Aid thy obedient
servant, Callapine, |
|
And make him, after
all these overthrows, |
|
To triumph over cursèd
Tamburlaine. |
|
K. of Amas. Fear
not, my lord; I see great Mahomet, |
|
Clothèd in purple
clouds, and on his head |
|
A chaplet brighter
than Apollo's crown, |
|
Marching about the air
with armèd men, |
|
To join with you
against this Tamburlaine. |
|
Capt. Renownèd
general, mighty Callapine, |
|
Though God himself and
holy Mahomet |
|
Should come in person
to resist your power, |
|
Yet might your mighty
host encounter all, |
|
And pull proud
Tamburlaine upon his knees |
|
To sue for mercy at
your highness' feet. |
|
Call. Captain,
the force of Tamburlaine is great, |
|
His fortune greater,
and the victories |
|
Wherewith he hath so
sore dismayed the world |
|
Are greatest to
discourage all our drifts; |
|
Yet when the pride of
Cynthia is at full, |
|
She wanes again, and
so shall his, I hope; |
|
For we have here the
chief selected men |
|
Of twenty several
kingdoms at the least; |
|
Nor ploughman, priest,
nor merchant, stays at home; |
|
All Turkey is in arms
with Callapine; |
|
And never will we
sunder camps and arms |
|
Before himself or his
be conquerèd. |
|
This is the time that
must etérnize me |
|
For conquering the
tyrant of the world. |
|
Come, soldiers, let us
lie in wait for him, |
|
And if we find him
absent from his camp, |
|
Or that it be rejoined
again at full, |
|
Assail it and be sure
of victory. |
|
[Exeunt.] |
|
ACT V, SCENE III. |
|
Enter Theridamas, Techelles, and Usumcasane. |
|
Ther. Weep, heavens, and vanish into liquid tears! |
|
Fall, stars that
govern his nativity, |
|
And summon all the
shining lamps of Heaven |
|
To cast their bootless
fires to the earth, |
|
And shed their feeble
influence in the air; |
|
Muffle your beauties
with eternal clouds, |
|
For Hell and Darkness
pitch their pitchy tents, |
|
And Death, with armies
of Cimmerian spirits, |
|
Gives battle 'gainst
the heart of Tamburlaine! |
|
Now in defiance of
that wonted love |
|
Your sacred virtues
poured upon his throne, |
|
And made his state an
honour to the heavens, |
|
These cowards
invisibly assail his soul, |
|
And threaten conquest
on our sovereign; |
|
But if he die your
glories are disgraced; |
|
Earth droops and says
that hell in Heaven is placed. |
|
Tech. O then, ye powers that sway eternal seats |
|
And guide this massy
substance of the earth, |
|
If you retain desert
of holiness, |
|
As your supreme
estates instruct our thoughts, |
|
Be not inconstant,
careless of your fame, − |
|
Bear not the burden of
your enemies' joys |
|
Triumphing in his fall
whom you advanced, |
|
But as his birth,
life, health, and majesty |
|
Were strangely blest
and governèd by Heaven, |
|
So honour, Heaven,
(till Heaven dissolvèd be) |
|
His birth, his life, his
health, and majesty! |
|
Usum. Blush, Heaven, to lose the honour of thy name! |
|
To see thy footstool
set upon thy head! |
|
And let no baseness in
thy haughty breast |
|
Sustain a shame of
such inexcellence, |
|
To see the devìls
mount in angels' thrones, |
|
And angels dive into
the pools of hell! |
|
And though they think
their painful date is out, |
|
And that their powèr
is puissant as Jove's, |
|
Which makes them
manage arms against thy state, |
|
Yet make them feel the
strength of Tamburlaine, |
|
(Thy instrument and
note of majesty,) |
|
Is greater far than
they can thus subdue: |
|
For if he die, thy
glory is disgraced; |
|
Earth droops and says
that hell in Heaven is placed. |
|
Enter Tamburlaine drawn by captive kings |
|
as before, with Amyras, Celebinus, and Physicians. |
|
Tamb. What daring god torments my body thus, |
|
And seeks to conquer
mighty Tamburlaine? |
|
Shall sickness prove
me now to be a man, |
|
That have been termed
the terror of the world? |
|
Techelles and the
rest, come, take your swords, |
|
And threaten him whose
hand afflicts my soul. |
|
Come, let us march
against the powers of Heaven, |
|
And set black
streamers in the firmament, |
|
To signify the
slaughter of the gods. |
|
Ah, friends, what
shall I do? I cannot stand. |
|
Come carry me to war
against the gods |
|
That thus envy the health
of Tamburlaine. |
|
Ther. Ah, good my lord, leave these impatient words, |
|
Which add much danger
to your malady. |
|
Tamb. Why, shall I sit and languish in this pain? |
|
No, strike the drums,
and in revenge of this, |
|
Come, let us charge
our spears and pierce his breast, |
|
Whose shoulders bear
the axis of the world, |
|
That, if I perish,
Heaven and earth may fade. |
|
Theridamas, haste to
the court of Jove, |
|
Will him to send
Apollo hither straight |
|
To cure me, or I'll
fetch him down myself. |
|
Tech. Sit still, my gracious lord; this grief will cease, |
|
And cannot last, it is
so violent. |
|
Tamb. Not last, Techelles? – No! for I shall die. |
|
See where my slave,
the ugly monster, Death, |
|
Shaking and quivering,
pale and wan for fear, |
|
Stands aiming at me
with his murdering dart, |
|
Who flies away at
every glance I give, |
|
And when I look away,
comes stealing on. − |
|
Villain, away, and hie
thee to the field! |
|
I and mine army come
to load thy back |
|
With souls of thousand
mangled carcasses. − |
|
Look, where he goes; but
see, he comes again, |
|
Because I stay:
Techelles, let us march |
|
And weary Death with
bearing souls to hell. |
|
1st
Phys. Pleaseth your majesty to drink this potion, |
|
Which will abate the
fury of your fit, |
|
And cause some milder
spirits govern you. |
|
Tamb. Tell me what think you of my sickness now? |
|
1st
Phys. I viewed your urine, and the hypostasis, |
|
Thick and obscure,
doth make your danger great; |
|
Your veins are full of
accidental heat, |
|
Whereby the moisture
of your blood is dried. |
|
The humidum and calor,
which some hold |
|
Is not a parcel of the
elements, |
|
But of a substance
more divine and pure, |
|
Is almost clean
extinguishèd and spent; |
|
Which, being the cause
of life, imports your death. |
|
Besides, my lord, this
day is critical, |
|
Dangerous to those whose
crisis is as yours. |
|
Your artiers, which
alongst the veins convey |
|
The lively spirits
which the heart engenders, |
|
Are parched and void
of spirits, that the soul, |
|
Wanting those organons
by which it moves, |
|
Cannot endure, by
argument of art. |
|
Yet, if your majesty
may escape this day, |
|
No doubt but you shall
soon recover all. |
|
Tamb. Then will I comfort all my vital parts, |
|
And live, in spite of
death, above a day. |
|
[Alarm within.] |
|
Enter a Messenger. |
|
Mess. My
lord, young Callapine, that lately fled from |
|
your majesty, hath now
gathered a fresh army, and |
|
hearing your absence
in the field, offers to set upon |
|
us presently. |
|
Tamb. See, my physicians, now, how Jove hath sent |
|
A present medicine to
recure my pain. |
|
My looks shall make
them fly, and might I follow, |
|
There should not one
of all the villains's power |
|
Live to give offer of
another fight. |
|
Usum. I joy, my lord, your highness is so strong, |
|
That can endure so
well your royal presence, |
|
Which only will dismay
the enemy. |
|
Tamb. I know it will, Casane. − Draw, you slaves; |
|
In spite of death, I
will go show my face. |
|
[Alarums. Exit Tamburlaine and the rest, |
|
with the exception of the Physicians. |
|
They all presently reenter.] |
|
Thus are the villain
cowards fled for fear, |
|
Like summer's vapours
vanished by the sun; |
|
And could I but a
while pursue the field, |
|
That Callapine should
be my slave again. |
|
But I perceive my
martial strength is spent. |
|
In vain I strive and
rail against those powers |
|
That mean t' invest me
in a higher throne, |
|
As much too high for
this disdainful earth. |
|
Give me a map; then
let me see how much |
|
Is left for me to
conquer all the world, |
|
That these, my boys,
may finish all my wants. |
|
[One brings a map.] |
|
Here I began to march
towards Persiä, |
|
Along Armenia and the
Caspian Sea, |
|
And thence unto
Bithynia, where I took |
|
The Turk and his great
Empress prisoners. |
|
Then marched I into
Egypt and Arabia; |
|
And here, not far from
Alexandria, |
|
Whereas the Terrene
and the Red Sea meet, |
|
Being distant less than
full a hundred leagues, |
|
I meant to cut a
channel to them both, |
|
That men might quickly
sail to India. |
|
From thence to Nubia
near Borno lake, |
|
And so along the
Æthiopian sea, |
|
Cutting the tropic
line of Capricorn, |
|
I conquered all as far
as Zanzibar. |
|
Then, by the northern
part of Africa, |
|
I came at last to
Graecia, and from thence |
|
To Asia, where I stay
against my will; |
|
Which is from Scythia,
where I first began, |
|
Backward and forwards
near five thousand leagues. |
|
Look here, my boys;
see, what a world of ground |
|
Lies westward from the
midst of Cancer's line, |
|
Unto the rising of
this earthly globe; |
|
Whereas the sun,
declining from our sight, |
|
Begins the day with
our Antipodes! |
|
And shall I die, and
this unconquerèd? |
|
Lo, here, my sons, are
all the golden mines, |
|
Inestimable drugs and
precious stones, |
|
More worth than Asia
and the world beside; |
|
And from th' Antarctic
Pole eastward behold |
|
As much more land,
which never was descried, |
|
Wherein are rocks of
pearl that shine as bright |
|
As all the lamps that
beautify the sky! |
|
And shall I die, and
this unconquerèd? |
|
Here, lovely boys;
what death forbids my life, |
|
That let your lives
command in spite of death. |
|
Amyr. Alas, my lord, how should our bleeding hearts, |
|
Wounded and broken
with your highness' grief, |
|
Retain a thought of
joy or spark of life? |
|
Your soul gives
essence to our wretched subjects, |
|
Whose matter is
incorporate in your flesh. |
|
Celeb. Your pains do pierce our souls; no hope survives, |
|
For by your life we
entertain our lives. |
|
Tamb. But, sons, this subject, not of force enough |
|
To hold the fiery
spirit it contains, |
|
Must part, imparting
his impressiöns |
|
By equal portions into
both your breasts. |
|
My flesh, divided in
your precious shapes, |
|
Shall still retain my
spirit, though I die, |
|
And live in all your
seeds immortally. |
|
Then now remove me,
that I may resign |
|
My place and proper
title to my son. − |
|
First, take my scourge
and my imperial crown, |
|
And mount my royal
chariot of estate, |
|
That I may see thee
crowned before I die. − |
|
Help me, my lords, to
make my last remove. |
|
[They lift him from the chariot.] |
|
Ther. A woful change, my lord, that daunts our thoughts |
|
More than the ruin of
our proper souls! |
|
Tamb. Sit up, my son; let me see how well |
|
Thou wilt become thy
father's majesty. |
|
Amyr. With what a flinty bosom should I joy |
|
The breath of life and
burthen of my soul; |
|
If not resolved into
resolvèd pains, |
|
My body's mortifièd
lineaments |
|
Should exercise the
motions of my heart, |
|
Pierced with the joy
of any dignity! |
|
O father, if the
unrelenting ears |
|
Of death and hell be
shut against my prayers, |
|
And that the spiteful
influence of Heaven |
|
Deny my soul fruition
of her joy; |
|
How should I step or
stir my hateful feet |
|
Against the inward
powers of my heart, |
|
Leading a life that
only strives to die, |
|
And plead in vain
unpleasing sovereignty? |
|
Tamb. Let not thy love exceed thine honour, son, |
|
Nor bar thy mind that
magnanimity |
|
That nobly must admit
necessity. |
|
Sit up, my boy, and
with these silken reins |
|
Bridle the steelèd
stomachs of those jades. |
|
Ther. My lord, you must obey his majesty, |
|
Since fate commands
and proud necessity. |
|
Amyr. Heavens witness me with what a broken heart |
|
And damnèd spirit I
ascend this seat, |
|
And send my soul,
before my father die, |
|
His anguish and his
burning agony! |
|
[They crown Amyras.] |
|
Tamb. Now fetch the hearse of fair Zenocrate; |
|
Let it be placed by
this my fatal chair, |
|
And serve as parcel of
my funeral. |
|
Usum. Then feels your majesty no sovereign ease, |
|
Nor may our hearts,
all drowned in tears of blood, |
|
Joy any hope of your
recovery? |
|
Tamb. Casane, no. The monarch of the earth, |
|
And eyeless monster
that torments my soul, |
|
Cannot behold the
tears ye shed for me, |
|
And therefore still augments
his cruèlty. |
|
Tech. Then let some god oppose his holy power |
|
Against the wrath and
tyranny of Death, |
|
That his tear-thirsty
and unquenchèd hate |
|
May be upon himself
reverberate! |
|
[They bring in the hearse of Zenocrate.] |
|
Tamb. Now, eyes, enjoy your latest benefit, |
|
And when my soul hath
virtue of your sight, |
|
Pierce through the
coffin and the sheet of gold, |
|
And glut your longings
with a heaven of joy. |
|
So reign, my son;
scourge and control those slaves, |
|
Guiding thy chariot
with thy father's hand. |
|
As precious is the
charge thou undertakest |
|
As that which
Clymene's brainsick son did guide, |
|
When wandering
Phoebe's ivory cheeks were scorched, |
|
And all the earth,
like Ætna, breathing fire. |
|
Be warned by him,
then; learn with awful eye |
|
To sway a throne as
dangerous as his; |
|
For if thy body thrive
not full of thoughts |
|
As pure and fiery as
Phyteus' beams, |
|
The nature of these
proud rebelling jades |
|
Will take occasion by
the slenderest hair |
|
And draw thee
piecemeal, like Hippolitus, |
|
Through rocks more
steep and sharp than Caspian cliffs. |
|
The nature of thy
chariot will not bear |
|
A guide of baser
temper than myself, |
|
More than Heaven's
coach the pride of Phaeton. |
|
Farewell, my boys; my
dearest friends, farewell! |
|
My body feels, my soul
doth weep to see |
|
Your sweet desires
deprived my company, |
|
For Tamburlaine, the
scourge of God, must die. |
|
[He dies.] |
|
Amyr. Meet Heaven and Earth, and here let all things end, |
|
For Earth hath spent
the pride of all her fruit, |
|
And Heaven consumed his
choicest living fire. |
|
Let Earth and Heaven
his timeless death deplore, |
|
For both their worths
will equal him no more. |
|
FINIS |