Part 2

THERIDAMAS. I left the confines and the bounds of Afric, And made [60] a voyage into Europe, Where, by the river Tyras, I subdu'd Stoka, Podolia, and Codemia; Then cross'd the sea and came to Oblia, And Nigra Silva, where the devils dance, Which, in despite of them, I set on fire. ]From thence I cross'd the gulf call'd by the name Mare Majore of the inhabitants. Yet shall my soldiers make no period Until Natolia kneel before your feet.

TAMBURLAINE. 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 conquer'd him, [61] Mingled with coral and with orient [62] pearl. Come, let us banquet and carouse the whiles. [Exeunt.]

## ACT II.

## SCENE I.

Enter SIGISMUND, FREDERICK, and BALDWIN, with their train.

SIGISMUND. Now say, my lords of Buda and Bohemia, What motion is it that inflames your thoughts, And stirs your valours to such sudden arms?

FREDERICK. Your majesty remembers, I am sure, What cruel 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 dismiss'd the greatest part Of all his army, pitch'd 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 [63] and Jerusalem. Now, then, my lord, advantage take thereof, [64] 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 Christians.

SIGISMUND. But calls not, then, your grace to memory The league we lately made with King Orcanes, Confirm'd 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 profession.

BALDWIN. 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 esteem'd assurance for ourselves, So that we vow [65] to them should not infringe Our liberty of arms and victory.

SIGISMUND. Though I confess the oaths they undertake Breed little strength to our security, Yet those infirmities that thus defame Their faiths, [66] their honours, and religion, [67] Should not give us presumption to the like. Our faiths are sound, and must be consummate, [68] Religious, righteous, and inviolate.

FREDERICK. Assure your grace, 'tis superstition 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 pour'd with rigour on our sinful heads, If we neglect this [69] offer'd victory.

SIGISMUND. 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.]

## SCENE II.

Enter ORCANES, GAZELLUS, and URIBASSA, with their train.

ORCANES. Gazellus, Uribassa, and the rest, Now will we march from proud Orminius' mount To fair Natolia, where our neighbour kings Expect our power and our royal presence, T' encounter with the cruel Tamburlaine, That nigh Larissa sways a mighty host, And with the thunder of his martial [70] tools Makes earthquakes in the hearts of men and heaven.

GAZELLUS. And now come we to make his sinews shake With greater power than erst his pride hath felt. An hundred kings, by scores, will bid him arms, And hundred thousands subjects to each score: Which, if a shower of wounding thunderbolts Should break out of the bowels of the clouds, And fall as thick as hail upon our heads, In partial aid of that proud Scythian, Yet should our courages and steeled crests, And numbers, more than infinite, of men, Be able to withstand and conquer him.

URIBASSA. Methinks I see how glad the Christian king Is made for joy of our [71] admitted truce, That could not but before be terrified With [72] unacquainted power of our host.

Enter a Messenger.

MESSENGER. Arm, dread sovereign, and my noble lords! The treacherous army of the Christians, Taking advantage of your slender power, Comes marching on us, and determines straight To bid us battle for our dearest lives.

ORCANES. Traitors, villains, damned Christians! Have I not here the articles of peace And solemn covenants we have both confirm'd, He by his Christ, and I by Mahomet?

GAZELLUS. Hell and confusion light upon their heads, That with such treason seek our overthrow, And care so little for their prophet Christ!

ORCANES. Can there be such deceit in Christians, Or treason in the fleshly heart of man, Whose shape is figure of the highest God? Then, if there be a Christ, as Christians say, But in their deeds deny him for their Christ, If he be son to everliving Jove, And hath the power of his outstretched arm, If he be jealous of his name and honour As is our holy prophet Mahomet, Take here these papers as our sacrifice And witness of thy servant's [73] perjury! [He tears to pieces the articles of peace.] Open, thou shining veil of Cynthia, And make a passage from th' empyreal heaven, That he that sits on high and never sleeps, Nor in one place is circumscriptible, But every where fills every continent With strange infusion of his sacred vigour, May, in his endless power and purity, Behold and venge this traitor's perjury! Thou, Christ, that art esteem'd omnipotent, If thou wilt prove thyself a perfect God, Worthy the worship of all faithful hearts, Be now reveng'd upon this traitor's soul, And make the power I have left behind (Too little to defend our guiltless lives) Sufficient to discomfit [74] and confound The trustless force of those false Christians!-- To arms, my lords! [75] on Christ still let us cry: If there be Christ, we shall have victory. [Exeunt.]

## SCENE III.

Alarms of battle within. Enter SIGISMUND wounded.

SIGISMUND. Discomfited is all the Christian [76] host, And God hath thunder'd vengeance from on high, For my accurs'd and hateful perjury. O just and dreadful punisher of sin, Let the dishonour of the pains I feel In this my mortal well-deserved wound End all my penance in my sudden death! And let this death, wherein to sin I die, Conceive a second life in endless mercy! [Dies.]

Enter ORCANES, GAZELLUS, URIBASSA, with others.

ORCANES. Now lie the Christians bathing in their bloods, And Christ or Mahomet hath been my friend.

GAZELLUS. See, here the perjur'd traitor Hungary, Bloody and breathless for his villany!

ORCANES. Now shall his barbarous body be a prey To beasts and fowls, and all the winds shall breathe, Through shady leaves of every senseless tree, Murmurs and hisses for his heinous sin. Now scalds his soul in the Tartarian streams, And feeds upon the baneful tree of hell, That Zoacum, [77] that fruit of bitterness, That in the midst of fire is ingraff'd, Yet flourisheth, as Flora in her pride, With apples like the heads of damned fiends. The devils there, in chains of quenchless flame, Shall lead his soul, through Orcus' burning gulf, ]From pain to pain, whose change shall never end. What say'st thou yet, Gazellus, to his foil, Which we referr'd to justice of his Christ And to his power, which here appears as full As rays of Cynthia to the clearest sight?

GAZELLUS. 'Tis but the fortune of the wars, my lord, Whose power is often prov'd a miracle.

ORCANES. Yet in my thoughts shall Christ be honoured, Not doing Mahomet an [78] injury, Whose power had share in this our victory; And, since this miscreant hath disgrac'd his faith, And died a traitor both to heaven and earth, We will both watch and ward shall keep his trunk [79] Amidst these plains for fowls to prey upon. Go, Uribassa, give [80] it straight in charge.

URIBASSA. I will, my lord. [Exit.]

ORCANES. And now, Gazellus, let us haste and meet Our army, and our brother[s] of Jerusalem, Of Soria, [81] Trebizon, and Amasia, And happily, with full Natolian bowls Of Greekish wine, now let us celebrate Our happy conquest and his angry fate. [Exeunt.]

## SCENE IV.

The arras is drawn, and ZENOCRATE is discovered lying in her bed of state; TAMBURLAINE sitting by her; three PHYSICIANS about her bed, tempering potions; her three sons, CALYPHAS, AMYRAS, and CELEBINUS; THERIDAMAS, TECHELLES, and USUMCASANE.

TAMBURLAINE. Black is the beauty of the brightest day; The golden ball of heaven's eternal fire, That danc'd with glory on the silver waves, Now wants the fuel that inflam'd his beams; And all with faintness, and for foul disgrace, He binds his temples with a frowning cloud, Ready to darken earth with endless night. Zenocrate, that gave him light and life, Whose eyes shot fire from their [82] ivory brows, [83] And temper'd every soul with lively heat, Now by the malice of the angry skies, Whose jealousy admits no second mate, Draws in the comfort of her latest breath, All dazzled with the hellish mists of death. Now walk the angels on the walls of heaven, As sentinels to warn th' immortal souls To entertain divine Zenocrate: Apollo, Cynthia, and the ceaseless lamps That gently look'd upon this [84] loathsome earth, Shine downwards now no more, but deck the heavens To entertain divine Zenocrate: The crystal springs, whose taste illuminates Refined eyes with an eternal sight, Like tried silver run through Paradise To entertain divine Zenocrate: The cherubins and holy seraphins, That sing and play before the King of Kings, Use all their voices and their instruments To entertain divine Zenocrate; And, in this sweet and curious harmony, The god that tunes this music to our souls Holds out his hand in highest majesty To entertain divine Zenocrate. Then let some holy trance convey my thoughts Up to the palace of th' empyreal heaven, That this my life may be as short to me As are the days of sweet Zenocrate.-- Physicians, will no [85] physic do her good?

FIRST PHYSICIAN. My lord, your majesty shall soon perceive, An if she pass this fit, the worst is past.

TAMBURLAINE. Tell me, how fares my fair Zenocrate?

ZENOCRATE. I fare, my lord, as other empresses, That, when this frail and [86] transitory flesh Hath suck'd the measure of that vital air That feeds the body with his dated health, Wane with enforc'd and necessary change.

TAMBURLAINE. May never such a change transform my love, In whose sweet being I repose my life! Whose heavenly presence, beautified with health, Gives light to Phoebus and the fixed stars; Whose absence makes [87] the sun and moon as dark As when, oppos'd in one diameter, Their spheres are mounted on the serpent's head, Or else descended to his winding train. Live still, my love, and so conserve my life, Or, dying, be the author [88] of my death.

ZENOCRATE. Live still, my lord; O, let my sovereign live! And sooner let the fiery element Dissolve, and make your kingdom in the sky, Than this base earth should shroud your majesty; For, should I but suspect your death by mine, The comfort of my future happiness, And hope to meet your highness in the heavens, Turn'd to despair, would break my wretched breast, And fury would confound my present rest. But let me die, my love; yes, [89] let me die; With love and patience let your true love die: Your grief and fury hurts my second life. Yet let me kiss my lord before I die, And let me die with kissing of my lord. But, since my life is lengthen'd yet a while, Let me take leave of these my loving sons, And of my lords, whose true nobility Have merited my latest memory. Sweet sons, farewell! in death resemble me, And in your lives your father's excellence. [90] Some music, and my fit will cease, my lord. [They call for music.]

TAMBURLAINE. Proud fury, and intolerable fit, That dares torment the body of my love, And scourge the scourge of the immortal God! Now are those spheres, where Cupid us'd to sit, Wounding the world with wonder and with love, Sadly supplied with pale and ghastly death, Whose darts do pierce the centre of my soul. Her sacred beauty hath enchanted heaven; And, had she liv'd before the siege of Troy, Helen, whose beauty summon'd Greece to arms, And drew a thousand ships to Tenedos, Had not been nam'd in Homer's Iliads,-- Her name had been in every line he wrote; Or, had those wanton poets, for whose birth Old Rome was proud, but gaz'd a while on her, Nor Lesbia nor Corinna had been nam'd,-- Zenocrate had been the argument Of every epigram or elegy. [The music sounds--ZENOCRATE dies.] What, is she dead? Techelles, draw thy sword, And wound the earth, that it may cleave in twain, And we descend into th' infernal vaults, To hale the Fatal Sisters by the hair, And throw them in the triple moat of hell, For taking hence my fair Zenocrate. Casane and Theridamas, to arms! Raise cavalieros [91] higher than the clouds, And with the cannon break the frame of heaven; Batter the shining palace of the sun, And shiver all the starry firmament, For amorous Jove hath snatch'd my love from hence, Meaning to make her stately queen of heaven. What god soever holds thee in his arms, Giving thee nectar and ambrosia, Behold me here, divine Zenocrate, Raving, impatient, desperate, and mad, Breaking my steeled lance, with which I burst The rusty beams of Janus' temple-doors, Letting out Death and tyrannizing War, To march with me under this bloody flag! And, if thou pitiest Tamburlaine the Great, Come down from heaven, and live with me again!

THERIDAMAS. Ah, good my lord, be patient! she is dead, And all this raging cannot make her live. If words might serve, our voice hath rent the air; If tears, our eyes have water'd all the earth; If grief, our murder'd hearts have strain'd forth blood: Nothing prevails, [92] for she is dead, my lord.

TAMBURLAINE. FOR SHE IS DEAD! thy words do pierce my soul: Ah, sweet Theridamas, say so no more! Though she be dead, yet let me think she lives, And feed my mind that dies for want of her. Where'er her soul be, thou [To the body] shalt stay with me, Embalm'd with cassia, ambergris, and myrrh, Not lapt in lead, but in a sheet of gold, And, till I die, thou shalt not be interr'd. Then in as rich a tomb as Mausolus' [93] We both will rest, and have one [94] epitaph Writ in as many several languages As I have conquer'd kingdoms with my sword. This cursed town will I consume with fire, Because this place bereft me of my love; The houses, burnt, will look as if they mourn'd; And here will I set up her stature, [95] And march about it with my mourning camp, Drooping and pining for Zenocrate. [The arras is drawn.]

## ACT III.

## SCENE I.

Enter the KINGS OF TREBIZON and SORIA, [96] one bringing a sword and the other a sceptre; next, ORCANES king of Natolia, and the KING OF JERUSALEM with the imperial crown, after, CALLAPINE; and, after him, other LORDS and ALMEDA. ORCANES and the KING OF JERUSALEM crown CALLAPINE, and the others give him the sceptre.

ORCANES. Callapinus Cyricelibes, otherwise Cybelius, son and successive heir to the late mighty emperor Bajazeth, by the aid of God and his friend Mahomet, Emperor of Natolia, Jerusalem, Trebizon, Soria, Amasia, Thracia, Ilyria, Carmania, and all the hundred and thirty kingdoms late contributory to his mighty father,--long live Callapinus, Emperor of Turkey!

CALLAPINE. Thrice-worthy kings, of Natolia and the rest, I will requite your royal gratitudes With all the benefits my empire yields; And, were the sinews of th' imperial seat So knit and strengthen'd as when Bajazeth, My royal lord and father, fill'd the throne, Whose cursed fate [97] hath so dismember'd it, Then should you see this thief of Scythia, This proud usurping king of Persia, Do us such honour and supremacy, Bearing the vengeance of our father's wrongs, As all the world should blot his [98] dignities Out of the book of base-born infamies. And now I doubt not but your royal cares Have so provided for this cursed foe, That, since the heir of mighty Bajazeth (An emperor so honour'd for his virtues) Revives the spirits of all [99] true Turkish hearts, In grievous memory of his father's shame, We shall not need to nourish any doubt, But that proud Fortune, who hath follow'd long The martial sword of mighty Tamburlaine, Will now retain her old inconstancy, And raise our honours [100] to as high a pitch, In this our strong and fortunate encounter; For so hath heaven provided my escape ]From all the cruelty my soul sustain'd, By this my friendly keeper's happy means, That Jove, surcharg'd with pity of our wrongs, Will pour it down in showers on our heads, Scourging the pride of cursed Tamburlaine.

ORCANES. I have a hundred thousand men in arms; Some that, in conquest [101] of the perjur'd Christian, Being a handful to a mighty host, Think them in number yet sufficient To drink the river Nile or Euphrates, And for their power enow to win the world.

KING OF JERUSALEM. And I as many from Jerusalem, Judaea, [102] Gaza, and Sclavonia's [103] bounds, That on mount Sinai, with their ensigns spread, Look like the parti-colour'd clouds of heaven That shew fair weather to the neighbour morn.

KING OF TREBIZON. And I as many bring from Trebizon, Chio, Famastro, and Amasia, All bordering on the Mare-Major-sea, Riso, Sancina, and the bordering towns That touch the end of famous Euphrates, Whose courages are kindled with the flames The cursed Scythian sets on all their towns, And vow to burn the villain's cruel heart.

KING OF SORIA. From Soria [104] with seventy thousand strong, Ta'en from Aleppo, Soldino, Tripoly, And so unto my city of Damascus, [105] I march to meet and aid my neighbour kings; All which will join against this Tamburlaine, And bring him captive to your highness' feet.

ORCANES. Our battle, then, in martial manner pitch'd, According to our ancient use, shall bear The figure of the semicircled moon, Whose horns shell sprinkle through the tainted air The poison'd brains of this proud Scythian.

CALLAPINE. Well, then, my noble lords, for this my friend That freed me from the bondage of my foe, I think it requisite and honourable To keep my promise and to make him king, That is a gentleman, I know, at least.

ALMEDA. That's no matter, [106] sir, for being a king; or Tamburlaine came up of nothing.

KING OF JERUSALEM. Your majesty may choose some 'pointed time, Performing all your promise to the full; 'Tis naught for your majesty to give a kingdom.

CALLAPINE. Then will I shortly keep my promise, Almeda.

ALMEDA. Why, I thank your majesty. [Exeunt.]

## SCENE II.

Enter TAMBURLAINE and his three sons, CALYPHAS, AMYRAS, and CELEBINUS; USUMCASANE; four ATTENDANTS bearing the hearse of ZENOCRATE, and the drums sounding a doleful march; the town burning.

TAMBURLAINE. So burn the turrets of this cursed town, Flame to the highest region of the air, And kindle heaps of exhalations, That, being fiery meteors, may presage Death and destruction to the inhabitants! Over my zenith hang a blazing star, That may endure till heaven be dissolv'd, Fed with the fresh supply of earthly dregs, Threatening a dearth [107] and famine to this land! Flying dragons, lightning, fearful thunder-claps, Singe these fair plains, and make them seem as black As is the island where the Furies mask, Compass'd with Lethe, Styx, and Phlegethon, Because my dear Zenocrate is dead!

CALYPHAS. This pillar, plac'd in memory of her, Where in Arabian, Hebrew, Greek, is writ, THIS TOWN, BEING BURNT BY TAMBURLAINE THE GREAT, FORBIDS THE WORLD TO BUILD IT UP AGAIN.

AMYRAS. And here this mournful streamer shall be plac'd, Wrought with the Persian and th' [108] Egyptian arms, To signify she was a princess born, And wife unto the monarch of the East.

CELEBINUS. And here this table as a register Of all her virtues and perfections.

TAMBURLAINE. And here the picture of Zenocrate, To shew her beauty which the world admir'd; Sweet picture of divine Zenocrate, That, hanging here, will draw the gods from heaven, And cause the stars fix'd in the southern arc, (Whose lovely faces never any view'd That have not pass'd the centre's latitude,) As pilgrims travel to our hemisphere, Only to gaze upon Zenocrate. Thou shalt not beautify Larissa-plains, But keep within the circle of mine arms: At every town and castle I besiege, Thou shalt be set upon my royal tent; And, when I meet an army in the field, Those [109] looks will shed such influence in my camp, As if Bellona, goddess of the war, Threw naked swords and sulphur-balls of fire Upon the heads of all our enemies.-- And now, my lords, advance your spears again; Sorrow no more, my sweet Casane, now: Boys, leave to mourn; this town shall ever mourn, Being burnt to cinders for your mother's death.

CALYPHAS. If I had wept a sea of tears for her, would not ease the sorrows [110] I sustain.

AMYRAS. As is that town, so is my heart consum'd With grief and sorrow for my mother's death.

CELEBINUS. My mother's death hath mortified my mind, And sorrow stops the passage of my speech.