University of Virginia Library

Scena Tertia.

Enter Achmetes, Cherseogles, Mustapha, Mesithes, drummes and Trumpets.
Achm.
The battell will prove great and dangerous,
But were their number double more then ours,
The justice of our cause bids vs goe on,
And like a cheerefull drumme strikes panting feare
From euery brest. Father, lead you the vangard,
The reare-ward be your charge, the right wing yours,
My selfe will guide the left, this day shall crowne
Your valour in full pride, Zemes must downe.

Enter Zemes, Armenia, two Captaines.
Zem.
Time hath outstript our hast, our foes doe stand,
Wauing their golden plumes, as if the gods,
Were come to meete great Zemes in the field,
Their armies planted, and a distilling cloud,
Hovers aboue their heads, as if it wept,
At their approaching fate. Armenia's King
Leade you the vanguard, vnder your command
The reareward shall march on, the Phalance
Be your care braue Captaines, as we're inform'd,
Achmetes rules the left wing of our foe,
Ile rule the right wing of ours, so when I meete,
Him in his pride Ile prostrate at his feete.

Arme.
Our men are ordered, Zemes leade the way,
The skies looke duskie blacke on this sad day.

Exeunt
Trumpets sound to the battaile, dumbe shewes in skirmishes, one of Zemes Captaines and Cherseogles meete, Zemes Captaine preuailes, his second and Mesithes meete, Mesithes retires, she King of Armenia and Mustapha meete, Armenia preuailes, and pursues the battaile. Enter Achmetes with his sword.
Ach.
Great Queen of chance; but do I call on this
Vnconstant St pdame? be thou propitious Mars,
Rough god of warre: steele vp this wearie arme,
And put a ten fold vigor in my bones;
What shall Achmetes fall, and in his losse,
Great Baiazet, be wrong'd? it cannot bee
Death comes to wound thee Zemes, I am hee.

As he goes out, the King of Armenia meetes him, they fight, Achmetes makes him retire from the stage, and pursues him in his furie, enters againe at the one dore, Zemes at the other, they meete, drums and trumpets sounding.
Ach.
Zemes?

Zem.
Achmetes? Opportunelie met,
Here staggers all the fortune of the field,
This houre must blesse me, and a single fight
Purchase thee honor, and to mee my right:
Honour to thee, to die by Zemes hand,
My right to me, an Empire to command.

Achm.
Braue Prince, I more lament thy case then can thy selfe
That runnest with such madnesse on the edge
Of desperate ruine, thou art but young and weake,
Manhoods soft blossomes are not fully spread
Vpon thy downy chinne; but riper yeeres
Haue setled the compacture of my ioynts,
And they are strongly knit: 'twill vexe my soule
In the cleare morne of thine vp-rising hopes,
To wrap thee in a fatall cloude of death.
Submit thee to thy brother, thou shalt finde
Me thy true friend, him mercifull and kinde.

Zem.
Submit? had I a right to Ioues high Throne,
And stood in opposition of his power,
Should all the gods aduise me to submit,
I would reiect their counsell: much more thine.
Guard thee Achmetes, thy stroke abide,
I cannot gore thy Prince but through thy side.

They fight and breath: fight againe. Achmetes takes away Zemes sword.
Zem.
The day be thine, and Zemes stand thy Fate;
Strike home, I'ue lost the day, and life I hate.

Achm.
Haue at thee then
Offers to run at him with both swords.
Not stirre? now by my sword
Thou shalt haue fayrer play before thy death:
Take backe thy sword, in that I recommit
My forfeit to thy charge, thy life with it.

They fight againe and Achmetes wounds him on the head. Zemes falls.
Zem.
Oh! hold thy conquering hand, and giue my soule
A quiet passage to her rest; my blood
Beginnes to wast, and a benuming cold,
Freezes my vitall spirits: Achmetes goe,
Tell Baiazet that thou hast slaine his toe.

Ach.
Farewell, braue sonne of Mars, thy fame shall stay
With vs, although thy soule flit hence away.

Zemes.
I haue not lyed, Achmetes thou hast slaine,
My hopes, and therefore me, my woundes art shallow,
But my state desperate, Ha? what shall I doe?
Armenia's King is fled backe to his home,
Cold entertainment will attend me there;
The field is emptie, euery man retir'd,
Onely a few dead carcasses, and I,
Then whither shall I bend my steps? to Rome?
To Rome then let it bee: Bishop I come,
Th'art a religious thing, and I will trust,
My life to one so innocently just.

Exit.