 | Tamburlaine the Great |  |
Actus: 5.
Scæna. I.
The Gouernour of Damasco, with three or foure Citizens, and foure Virgins with branches of Laurell in their hands.Gouernour.
Stil dooth this man or rather God of war,
Batter our walles, and beat our Turrets downe,
Or hope of rescue from the Souldans power,
Were but to bring our wilfull ouerthrow,
And make vs desperate of our threatned liues:
We see his tents haue now bene altered,
With terrours to the last and cruelst hew:
His cole-blacke collours euery where aduaunst,
Threaten our citie with a generall spoile:
And if we should with common rites of Armes,
Offer our safeties to his clemencie,
I feare the custome proper to his sword,
Which he obserues as parcell of his fame:
Intending so to terrifie the world,
By any innouation or remorse,
Will neuer be dispenc'd with til our deaths,
Therfore, for these our harmlesse virgines sakes,
Whose honors and whose liues relie on him:
Let vs haue hope that their vnspotted praiers
Their blubbered cheekes and hartie humble mones
Will melt his furie into some remorse:
And vse vs like a louing Conquerour.
Virg.
If humble suites or imprecations,
(vttered with teares of wretchednesse and blood,
Shead from the heads and hearts of all our Sex.
Some made your wiues, and some your children)
Might haue intreated your obdurate breasts.
To entertaine some care of our securities.
Whiles only danger beat vpon our walles,
These more than dangerous warrants of our death
Had neuer bene erected as they bee,
Nor you depend on such weake helps as we
Go.
Wel, louely Uirgins, think our countries care
To forraine powers, and rough imperious yokes:
Would not with too much cowardize or feare,
Before all hope of rescue were denied,
Submit your selues and vs to seruitude.
Therefore in that your safeties and our owne
Your honors, liberties and liues were weigh'd
In equall care and ballance with our owne,
Endure as we the malice of our stars.
The wrath of Tamburlain, and power of warres.
Or be the means the ouerweighing heauens
Haue kept to quallifie these hot extreames.
And bring vs pardon in your chearfull lookes.
2. Virg.
Then here before the maiesty of heauen,
And holy Patrones of Egyptia,
With knees and hearts submissiue we intreate,
Grace to our words and pitie to our lookes
That this deuise may prooue propitious,
And through the eies and eares of tamburlaine,
Conuey euents of mercie to his heart:
Graunt that these signes of victorie we yeeld
May bind the temples of his conquering head,
To hide the folded furrowes of his browes,
And shadow his displeased countenance,
With happy looks of ruthe and lenity,
Leaue vs my Lord, and louing countrimen,
What simple Uirgins may perswade, we will.
Go.
Farewell (sweet Uirgins) on whose safe return
Depends our citie, libertie, and liues.
Exeunt.
Scæna. 2.
Tamburlaine. Techelles Theridamas, Vsumeasan, with others: Tamburlaine all in blacke, and verie melancholy.Tamb.
What , are the Turtles fraide out of their neastes?
Alas poore fooles, must you be first shal feele
The sworne destruction of Damascus.
They know my custome: could they not as well
Haue sent ye out, when first my milkwhite flags
Through which sweet mercie threw her gentle beams
Reflexing them on your disdainfull eies:
As now when furie and incensed hate
Flings slaughtering terrour from my coleblack tents.
And tels for trueth, submissions comes too late.
I. Virgin.
Most happy King and Emperour of the earth.
Image of Honor and Nobilitie.
For whome the Powers diuine haue made the world,
And on whose throne the holy Graces sit.
In whose sweete person is compriz'd the Sum
Of natures Skill and heauenly maiestie.
Pittie our plightes, O pitie poore Damascus:
Pitie olde age, within whose siluer haires
Honor and reuerence euermore haue raign'd,
Pitie the mariage bed, where many a Lord
In prime and glorie of his louing ioy.
Embraceth now with teares of ruth and blood,
The iealous bodie of his fearfull wife,
Whose cheekes and hearts so punisht with conceit,
Will part their bodies, and preuent their soules
From heauens of comfort, yet their age might beare,
Now waxe all pale and withered to the death,
As well for griefe our ruthlesse Gouernour
Haue thus refusde the mercie of thy hand,
(Whose scepter Angels kisse, and Furies dread)
As for their liberties, their loues or liues,
O then for these, and such as we our selues,
For vs, for infants, and for all our bloods,
That neuer nourisht thought against thy rule,
Pitie, O pitie, (sacred Emperour)
The prostrate seruice of this wretched towne.
And take in signe thereof this gilded wreath,
Whereto ech man of rule hath giuen his hand,
And wisht as worthy subiects happy meanes,
To be inuesters of thy royall browes,
Euen with the true Egyptian Diadem.
tam.
Uirgins, in vaine ye labour to preuent
That which mine honor sweares shal be perform'd:
Behold my sword, what see you at the point?
Virg.
Nothing but feare and fatall steele my Lord.
tam.
Your fearfull minds are thicke and mistie then
For there sits Death, there sits imperious Death,
Keeping his circuit by the slicing edge.
But I am pleasde you shall not see him there,
He now is seated on my horsmens speares:
And on their points his fleshlesse bodie feedes.
Techelles, straight goe charge a few of them
To chardge these Dames, and shew my seruant death:
Sitting in scarlet on their armed speares.
Omnes.
O pitie vs.
Away with them I say and shew them death.
They take them away.
I will not spare these proud Egyptians.
Nor change my Martiall obseruations,
For all the wealth of Gehons golden waues.
Or for the loue of Venus, would she leaue
The angrie God of Armes, and lie with me.
They haue refusde the offer of their liues,
And know my customes are as peremptory
As wrathfull Planets, death, or destinie.
Enter Techelles.
What, haue your horsmen shewen the virgins Death?
tech.
They haue my Lord, and on Damascus wals
Haue hoisted vp their slaughtered carcases.
tam.
A sight as banefull to their soules I think
As are Thessalian drugs or Mithradate.
But goe my Lords, put the rest to the sword.
Exeunt.
Ah faire Zenocrate, diuine Zenocrate,
Faire is too foule an Epithite for thee,
That in thy passion for thy countries loue,
And feare to see thy kingly Fathers harme,
With haire discheweld wip'st thy watery cheeks:
And like to Flora in her mornings pride,
Shaking her siluer treshes in the aire.
Rain'st on the earth resolued pearle in showers,
And sprinklest Saphyrs on thy shining face,
Wher Beauty, mother to the Muses sits,
And comments vollumes with her Yuory pen:
Taking instructions from thy flowing eies,
Eies when that Ebena steps to heauen.
In silence of thy solemn Euenings walk.
Making the mantle of the richest night.
There Angels in their christal armours fight
A doubtfull battell with my tempted thoughtes,
For Egypts freedom and the Souldans life:
His life that so consumes Zenocrate,
Whose sorrowes lay more siege vnto my soule,
Than all my Army to Damascus walles.
And neither Perseans Soueraign, nor the Turk
Troubled my sences with conceit of foile,
So much by much, as dooth zenocrate.
What is beauty saith my sufferings then?
If all the pens that euer poets held,
Had fed the feeling of their maisters thoughts,
And euery sweetnes that inspir'd their harts,
Their minds, and muses on admyred theames:
If all the heauenly Quintessence they still
From their immortall flowers of Poesy,
Wherein as in a myrrour we perceiue
The highest reaches of a humaine wit.
If these had made one Poems period
And all combin'd in Beauties worthinesse,
Yet should ther houer in their restlesse heads,
One thought, one grace, one woonder at the least,
Which into words no vertue can digest:
But how vnseemly is it for my Sex
My discipline of armes and Chiualrie,
My nature and the terrour of my name.
To harbour thoughts effeminate and faint?
Saue onely that in Beauties iust applause,
With whose instinct the soule of man is toucht.
And euery warriour that is rapt with loue,
Of fame, of valour, and of victory
I thus conceiuing and subduing both:
That which hath stopt the tempest of the Gods,
Euen from the fiery spangled vaile of heauen,
To feele the louely warmth of shepheards flames.
And martch in cottages of strowed weeds,
Shal giue the world to note for all my byrth,
That Uertue solely is the sum of glorie,
And fashions men with true nobility.
Who's within there?
Enter two or three.
Hath Baiazeth bene fed to day?
An.
I, my Lord.
tamb.
Bring him forth, & let vs know if the towne
be ransackt.
Enter Techelles, Theridamas, Vsumeasan & others.
tech
The town is ours my Lord, and fresh supply
Of conquest, and of spoile is offered vs:
tam.
Thats wel techelles, what's the newes?
tech.
The Souldan and the Arabian king together
Martch on vs with such eager violence,
As if there were no way but one with vs.
tam.
No more there is not I warrant thee techelles
They bring in the Turke.
ther.
We know the victorie is ours my Lord,
But let vs saue the reuerend Souldans life,
For faire Zenocrate, that so laments his state.
tamb.
That will we chiefly see vnto, theridamas.
For sweet zenocrate, whose worthinesse
Deserues a conquest ouer euery hart:
You hope of libertie and restitution:
Here let him stay my maysters from the tents,
Till we haue made vs ready for the field.
Pray for vs Baiazeth, we are going.
Exeunt.
Bai.
Go, neuer to returne with victorie:
Millions of men encompasse thee about.
And gore thy body with as many wounds,
Sharpe forked arrowes light vpon thy horse:
Furies from the blacke Cocitus lake,
Breake vp the earth, and with their firebrands,
Enforce thee run vpon the banefull pikes.
Uolleyes of shot pierce through thy charmed Skin,
And euery bullet dipt in poisoned drugs,
Or roaring Cannons seuer all thy ioints.
Making thee mount as high as Eagles soare.
zab.
Let all the swords and Lances in the field,
Stick in his breast, as in their proper roomes,
At euery pore let blood comme dropping foorth.
That lingring paines may massacre his heart.
And madnesse send his damned soule to hell.
Bai.
Ah faire zabina, we may curse his power,
The heauens may frowne, the earth for anger quake,
But such a Star hath influence in his sword,
As rules the Skies, and countermands the Gods.
More than Cymerian Stix or Distinie:
And then shall we in this detested guyse,
With shame, with hungar, and with horror aie
Griping our bowels with retorqued thoughtes,
And haue no hope to end our extasies.
zab.
Then is there left no Mahomet, no God,
No Feend, no Fortune, nor no hope of end?
Gape earth, and let the Feends infernall view,
As hell, as hoplesse and as full of feare
As are the blasted banks of Erebus:
Where shaking ghosts with euer howling grones,
Houer about the vgly Ferriman, to get a passage to Elisiā
why should we liue, O wretches, beggars slaues
Why liue we Baiazeth, and build vp neasts,
So high within the region of the aire,
By liuing long in this oppression,
That all the world will see and laugh to scorne.
The former triumphes of our mightines,
In this obscure infernall seruitude?
Bai.
O life more loathsome to my vexed thoughts,
Than noisome parbreak of the Stygian Snakes,
Which fils the nookes of Hell with standing aire,
Infecting all the Ghosts with curelesse griefs:
O dreary Engines of my loathed sight,
That sees my crowne, my honor and my name,
Thrust vnder yoke and thraldom of a thiefe.
Why feed ye still on daies accursed beams,
And sink not quite into my tortur'd soule.
You see my wife, my Queene and Emperesse,
Brought vp and propped by the hand of fame,
Queen of fifteene contributory Queens,
Now throwen to roomes of blacke abiection,
Smear'd with blots of basest drudgery:
And Uillanesse to shame, disdaine, and misery:
Accursed Baiazeth, whose words of ruth,
That would with pity chear zabinas heart:
And make our soules resolue in ceasles teares,
Sharp hunger bites vpon and gripes the root:
O poore zabina, O my Queen, my Queen,
Fetch me some water for my burning breast,
To coole and comfort me with longer date,
That in the shortned sequel of my life,
I may poure foorth my soule into thine armes,
With words of loue: whose moaning entercourse
Hath hetherto bin staid, with wrath and hate
Of our expresiesse band inflictions:
zab.
Sweet Baiazeth, I will prolong thy life,
As long as any blood or sparke of breath
Can quench or coole the torments of my griefe.
She goes out:
Bai.
Now Baiazeth, abridge thy banefull daies,
And beat thy braines out of thy conquer'd head:
Since other meanes are all forbidden me,
That may be ministers of my decay.
O highest Lamp of euerliuing Ioue,
Accursed day infected with my griefs,
Hide now thy stained face in endles night,
And shut the windowes of the lightsome heauens,
Let vgly darknesse with her rusty coach
Engyrt with tempests wrapt in pitchy clouds,
Smother the earth with neuer fading mistes:
And let her horses from their nostrels breathe
Rebellious winds and dreadfull thunderclaps:
That in this terrour tamburlaine may liue.
And my pin'd soule resolu'd in liquid ay,
May styl excruciat his tormented thoughts.
Than let the stony dart of sencelesse colde,
Pierce through the center of my withered heart,
And make a passage for my loathed life.
He brains himself against the cage.
zab.
What do mine eies behold, my husband dead?
His Skul al riuin in twain, his braines dasht out?
The braines of Baiazeth, my Lord and Soueraigne?
O Baiazeth, my husband and my Lord,
O Baiazet, O Turk, O Emperor, giue him his liquor
Not I, bring milk and fire, and my blood I bring him
againe, teare me in peeces, giue me the sworde with a
ball of wildefire vpon it. Downe with him, downe with
him. Goe to my child, away, away, away. Ah, saue that
Infant, saue him, saue him. I, euen I speake to her, the
Sun was downe. Streamers white. Red, Blacke, here
here, here. Fling the meat in his face. Tamburlaine,
tamburlaine, Let the souldiers be buried. Hel, death,
tamburlain, Hell, make ready my Coch, my chaire, my
iewels, I come, I come, I come.
She runs against the Cage and braines her selfe
Zenocrate
wyth Anippe,
Wretched Zenocrate, that liuest to see,
Damascus walles di'd with Egytian blood.
Thy Fathers subiects and thy countrimen:
Thy streetes strowed with disseuered iointes of men,
And wounded bodies gasping yet for life.
But most accurst, to see the Sun-bright troope
Of heauenly vyrgins and vnspotted maides,
Whose lookes might make the angry God of armes,
To breake his sword, and mildly treat of loue,
On horsmens Lances to be hoisted vp,
And guiltlesly endure a cruell death.
For euery fell and stout Tartarian Stead,
When al their riders chardg'd their quiuering speares
Began to checke the ground, and rain themselues:
Gazing vpon the beautie of their lookes:
Ah Tamburlaine, wert thou the cause of this
That tearm'st Zenocrate thy dearest loue?
Whose liues were dearer to Zenocrate
Than her owne life, or ought saue thine owne loue.
But see another bloody spectacle.
Ah wretched eies, the enemies of my hart,
How are ye glutted with these grieuous obiects,
And tell my soule mor tales of bleeding ruth?
See, se Anippe if they breathe or no.
Anip.
No breath nor sence, nor motion in them both
Ah Madam, this their slauery hath Enforc'd,
And ruthlesse cruelty of Tamburlaine.
Zen.
Earth cast vp fountaines from thy entralles,
And wet thy cheeks for their vntimely deathes:
Shake with their waight in signe of feare & griefe:
Blush heauen, that gaue them honor at their birth,
And let them die a death so barbarous.
Those that are proud of fickle Empery,
And place their chiefest good in earthly pompe:
Behold the Turke and his great Emperesse.
Ah tamburlaine, my loue, sweet tamburlaine,
That fights for Scepters and for slippery crownes,
Behold the Turk and his great Emperesse,
Thou that in conduct of thy happy stars,
Sleep'st euery night with conquest on thy browes,
And yet wouldst shun the wauering turnes of war,
In feare and feeling of the like distresse,
Behold the Turke and his great Emperesse.
Pardon my Loue, oh pardon his contempt,
Of earthly fortune, and respect of pitie,
And let not conquest ruthlesly pursewde
Be equally against his life incenst,
In this great Turk and haplesse Emperesse.
And pardon me that was not moou'd with ruthe,
To see them liue so long in misery:
Ah what may chance to thee zenocrate?
Anip,
Madam content your self and be resolu'd,
Your Loue hath fortune so at his command,
That she shall stay and turne her wheele no more,
As long as life maintaines his mighty arme,
That fights for honor to adorne your head.
Enter a Messenger.
Zen.
What other heauie news now brings Philemus?
Phi.
Madam, your father and th'Arabian king,
The first affecter of your excellence,
Comes now as Turnus gainst Eneas did.
Armed with lance into the Egyptian fields,
Ready for battaile gainst my Lord the King.
Zen.
Now shame and duty, loue and feare presents
A thousand sorrowes to my martyred soule:
Whom should I wish the fatall victory,
When my poore pleasures are deuided thus,
And rackt by dutie from my cursed heart:
My father and my first betrothed loue,
Must fight against my life and present loue:
Wherin the change I vse condemns my faith,
And makes my deeds infamous through the world.
But as the Gods to end the Troyans toile,
Preuented Turnus of Lauinia.
So for a finall Issue to my griefes,
To pacifie my countrie and my loue,
Must Tamburlaine by their resistlesse powers,
With vertue of a gentle victorie,
Conclude a league of honor to my hope,
Then as the powers deuine haue preordainde,
With happy safty of my fathers life,
Send like defence of faire Arabia.
They sound to the battaile.
And Tamburlaine enioyes the victory, after Arabia enters wounded.
Ar.
What cursed power guides the murthering hands,
Of this infamous Tyrants souldiers.
That no escape may saue their enemies:
Nor fortune keep them selues from victory.
Lye down Arabia, wounded to the death,
And let Zenocrates faire eies beholde
That as for her thou bearst these wretched armes.
Euen so for her thou diest in these armes:
Leauing thy blood for witnesse of thy loue.
zen.
Too deare a witnesse for such loue my Lord,
Behold Zenocrate, the cursed obiect
Whose Fortunes neuer mastered her griefs:
Behold her wounded in conceit for thee,
As much as thy faire body is for me.
Ar.
Then shal I die with full contented heart,
Hauing beheld deuine Zenocrate,
Whose sight with ioy would take away my life,
As now it bringeth sweetnesse to my wound,
If I had not bin wounded as I am.
Would lend an howers license to my tongue:
To make discourse of some sweet accidents
Haue chanc'd thy merits in this worthles bondage.
And that I might be priuy to the state,
Of thy deseru'd contentment and thy loue:
But making now a vertue of thy sight,
To driue all sorrow from my fainting soule:
Since Death denies me further cause of ioy.
Depriu'd of care, my heart with comfort dies.
Since thy desired hand shall close mine eies.
Enter Tamburlain leading the Souldane, Techelles, Theridamas, Vsumeasane, withothers.
Tam.
Come happy Father of Zenocrate,
A title higher than thy Souldans name:
Though my right hand haue thus enthralled thee
Thy princely daughter here shall set thee free.
She that hath calmde the furie of my sword.
Which had ere this bin bathde in streames of blood,
As vast and deep as Euphrates or Nile.
Zen:
O sight thrice welcome to my ioiful soule.
To see the king my Father issue safe,
From dangerous battel of my conquering Loue.
Soul.
Wel met my only deare Zenocrate,
Though with the losse of Egypt and my Crown,
tam.
Twas I my lord that gat the victory,
And therfore grieue not at your ouerthrow.
Since I shall render all into your hands.
And ad more strength to your dominions
Then euer yet confirm'd th'Egyptian Crown.
Meaning to make me Generall of the world,
Ioue viewing me in armes, lookes pale and wan,
Fearing my power should pull him from his throne.
Where ere I come the fatall sisters sweat,
And griesly death by running to and fro,
To doo their ceassles homag to my sword:
And here in Affrick where it seldom raines,
Since I arriu'd with my triumphat hoste,
Haue swelling cloudes drawen from wide gasping woundes.
Bene oft resolu'd in bloody purple showers,
A meteor that might terrify the earth,
And make it quake at euery drop it drinks:
Millions of soules sit on the bankes of Styx,
Waiting the back returne of Charons boat,
Hell and Elisian swarme with ghosts of men,
That I haue sent from sundry foughten fields.
To spread my fame through hell and vp to heauen:
And see my Lord, a sight of strange import,
Emperours and kings lie breathlesse at my feet,
The Turk and his great Emperesse as it seems,
Left to themselues while we were at the fight.
Haue desperatly dispatcht their slauish liues:
With them Arabia too hath left his life,
Al sights of power to grace my victory:
And such are obiects fit for Tamburlaine.
Wherein as in a mirrour may be seene,
His honor, that consists in sheading blood,
When men presume to manage armes with him.
Soul.
Mighty hath God & Mahomet made thy hand
(Renowmed tamburlain) to whom all kings
And I am pleasde with this my ouerthrow:
If as beseemes a person of thy state,
Thou hast with honor vsde Zenocrate.
tamb.
Her state and person wants no pomp you see,
And for all blot of foule inchastity,
I record heauen, her heauenly selfe is cleare:
Then let me find no further time to grace
Her princely Temples with the Persean crowne:
But here these kings that on my fortunes wait:
And haue bene crown'd for prooued worthynesse,
Euen by this hand that shall establish them,
Shal now, adioining al their hands with mine,
Inuest her here my Queene of Persea,
What saith the noble Souldane and Zenocrate?
Soul.
I yeeld with thanks and protestations
Of endlesse honor to thee for her loue.
Tamb.
Then doubt I not but faire Zenocrate
Will soone consent to satisfy vs both.
Zen.
Els should I much forget my self, my Lord,
Ther.
Then let vs set the crowne vpon her head,
That long hath lingred for so high a seat.
Tech.
My hand is ready to performe the deed,
For now her mariage time shall worke vs rest:
Vsum.
And her's the crown my Lord, help set it on
Tam.
Then sit thou downe diuine Zenocrate,
And here we crowne thee Queene of Persea,
And all the kingdomes and dominions
That late the power of Tamburlaine subdewed:
As Iuno, when the Giants were supprest,
That darted mountaines at her brother Ioue:
So lookes my Loue, shadowing in her browes
Or as Latonas daughter bent to armes,
Adding more courage to my conquering mind,
To gratify the sweet zenocrate,
Egyptians, Moores and men of Asia,
From Barbary vnto the Westerne Indie,
Shall pay a yearly tribute to thy Syre.
And from the boundes of Affrick to the banks
Of Ganges, shall his mighty arme extend.
And now my Lords and louing followers,
That purchac'd kingdomes by your matiall deeds,
Cast off your armor, put on scarlet roabes.
Mount vp your royall places of estate,
Enuironed with troopes of noble men,
And there make lawes to rule your prouinces:
Hang vp your weapons on Alcides poste,
For Tamburlaine takes truce with al the world.
Thy first betrothed, Loue Arabia,
Shall we with honor (as beseemes) entombe,
With this great Turke and his faire Emperesse:
Then after all these solemne Exequies,
We wil our celebrated rites of mariage solemnize.
Finis Actus quinti & vltimi huius primæ partis.
| Tamburlaine the Great | |