University of Virginia Library

Actus. 2.

Scæna. I.

Sigismond, Fredericke, Baldwine, with their traine.
Sigis.
Now say my Lords of Buda and Bohemia,
What motiō is it that inflames your thoughts,
And stirs your valures to such soddaine armes?

Fred.
Your Maiesty remembers I am sure
What cruell slaughter of our Christian bloods,
These heathnish Turks and Pagans lately made,
Betwixt the citie Zula and Danubius,
How through the midst of Verna and Bulgaria
And almost to the very walles of Rome,
They haue not long since massacred our Camp,
It resteth now then that your Maiesty
Take all aduantages of time and power,
And worke reuenge vpon these Infidels:
Your Highnesse knowes for Tamburlaines repaire,
That strikes a terrour to all Turkish hearts,
Natolia hath dismist the greatest part
Of all his armie, pitcht against our power
Betwixt Cutheia and Orminius mount:
And sent them marching vp to Belgasar,
Acantha, Antioch, and Cæsaria,
To aid the kings of Soria and Ierusalem.
Now then my Lord, aduantage take hereof,
And issue sodainly upon the rest:
That in the fortune of their ouerthrow,
We may discourage all the pagan troope,
That dare attempt to war with Christians.

Sig.
But cals not then your Grace to memorie
The league we lately made with king Orcanes,
Confirm'd by oth and Articles of peace,
And calling Christ for record of our trueths?
This should be treacherie and violence,
Against the grace of our profession.

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 lawes of Christendome inioine:
But as the faith which they prophanely plight
Is not by necessary pollycy,
To be esteem'd assurance for our selues,
So what we vow to them should not infringe
Our liberty of armes and victory.

Sig.
Though I confesse the othes they vndertake,
Breed litle strength to our securitie,
Yet those infirmities that thus defame
Their faiths, their honors, and their religion,
Should not giue vs presumption to the like,
Our faiths are sound, and must be consinuate,
Religious, righteous, and inuiolate.

Fred.
Assure your Grace tis superstition
To stand so strictly on dispensiue faith:
And should we lose the opportunity
That God hath giuen to venge our Christians death
And scourge their foule blasphemous Paganisme?
As fell to Saule, to Balaam and the rest,
That would not kill and curse at Gods command,
So surely will the vengeance of the highest
And iealous anger of his fearefull arme
Be pour'd with rigour on our sinfull heads,
If we neglect this offered victory.

Sig.
Then arme my Lords, and issue sodainly,
Giuing commandement to our generall hoste,
With expedition to assaile the Pagan,
And take the victorie our God hath giuen.

Exeunt.

Scæna. 2.

Orcanes, Gazellus, Vribassa with their traine.
Orcanes.
Gazellus, Vribassa, and the rest,
Now will we march from proud Orminus mount
To faire Natolia, where our neighbour kings
Expect our power and our royall presence,
T'incounter with the cruell tamburlain,
That nigh Larissa swaies a mighty hoste,
And with the thunder of his martial tooles
Makes Earthquakes in the hearts of men and heauen,

Gaz.
And now come we to make his sinowes shake,
With greater power than erst his pride hath felt,
An hundred kings by scores wil bid him armes,
And hundred thousands subiects to each score:
Which if a shower of wounding thunderbolts
Should breake out off the bowels of the clowdes
And fall as thick as haile vpon our heads,
In partiall aid of that proud Scythian,
Yet should our courages and steeled crestes,
And numbers more than infinit of men,
Be able to withstand and conquer him.

Vrib.
Me thinks I see how glad the christian King
Is made, for ioy of your admitted truce:
That could not but before be terrified:
With vnacquainted power of our hoste.

Enter a messenger.
Mess.
Arme dread Soueraign and my noble Lords
The treacherous army of the Christians,
Taking aduantage of your slender power,
Comes marching on vs, and determines straight,
To bid vs battaile for our dearest liues.

Orc.
Traitors, villaines, damned Christians.
Haue I not here the articles of peace,
And solemne couenants we haue both confirm'd,
He by his Christ, and I by Mahomet?

Gaz.
Hel and confusion light vpon their heads,
That with such treason seek our ouerthrow,
And cares so litle for their prophet Christ.

Orc.
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 euerliuing Ioue,
And hath the power of his outstretched arme,
If he be iealous of his name and honor,
As is our holy prophet Mahomet,
Take here these papers as our sacrifice
And witnesse of thy seruants periury.
Open thou shining vaile of Cynthia
And make a passage from the imperiall heauen
That he that sits on high and neuer sleeps,
Nor in one place is circumscriptible,
But euery where fils euery Continent,
With strange infusion of his sacred vigor,
May in his endlesse power and puritie
Behold and venge this Traitors periury.
Thou Christ that art esteem'd omnipotent,
If thou wilt prooue thy selfe a perfect God,
Worthy the worship of all faithfull hearts,
Be now reueng'd vpon this Traitors soule,
And make the power I haue left behind
(Too litle to defend our guiltlesse liues)
Sufficient to discomfort and confound
The trustlesse force of those false Christians.
To armes my Lords, on Christ still let vs crie,
If there be Christ, we shall haue victorie.

Sound to the battell, and Sigismond comes out wounded.
Sig.
Discomfited is all the Christian hoste,
And God hath thundered vengeance from on high,
For my accurst and hatefull periurie.
O iust and dreadfull punisher of sinne,
Let the dishonor of the paines I feele,
In this my mortall well deserued wound,
End all my penance in my sodaine death,
And let this death wherein to sinne I die,
Conceiue a second life in endlesse mercie.

Enter Orcanes, Gazellus, Vribassa, with others.
Or.
Now lie the Christians bathing in their bloods,
And Christ or Mahomet hath bene my friend.

Gaz.
See here the periur'd traitor Hungary,
Bloody and breathlesse for his villany.

Orc.
Now shall his barbarous body be a pray
To beasts and foules, and al the winds shall breath
Through shady leaues of euery sencelesse tree,
Murmures and hisses for his hainous sin.
Now scaldes his soule in the Tartarian streames,
And feeds vpon the banefull tree of hell,
That zoacum, that fruit of bytternesse,
That in the midst of fire is ingraft,
Yet flourisheth as Flora in her pride,
With apples like the heads of damned Feends,
The Dyuils there in chaines of quencelesse flame,
Shall lead his soule through Orcus burning gulfe:
From paine to paine, whose change shal neuer end:
What saiest thou yet Gazellus to his foile:
Which we referd to iustice of his Christ,
And to his power, which here appeares as full
As raies of Cynthia to the clearest sight?

Gaz.
Tis but the fortune of the wars my Lord,
Whose power is often proou'd a myracle.

Orc.
Yet in my thoughts shall Christ he honoured,
Not dooing Mahomet an iniurie,
Whose power had share in this our victory:
And since this miscreant hath disgrac'd his faith,
And died a traitor both to heauen and earth,
We wil both watch and ward shall keepe his trunke
Amidst these plaines, for Foules to pray vpon.
Go Vribassa, giue it straight in charge.

Vri.
I will my Lord.

Exit Vrib.
Orc.
And now Gazellus, let vs haste and meete
Our Army and our brother of Ierusalem,
Of Soria, Trebizon and Amasia,
And happily with full Natolian bowles
Of Greekish wine now let vs celebrate
Our happy conquest, and his angry fate.

Exeunt.

Scæna vltima.

The Arras is drawen and Zenocrate lies in her bed of state, Tamburlaine sitting by her: three Phisitians about her bed, tempering potions. Theridamas, Techelles, Vsumeasane, and the three sonnes.
Tamburlaine,
Blacke is the beauty of the brightest day,
The golden balle of heauens eternal fire,
That danc'd with glorie on the siluer waues:
Now wants the fewell that enflamde his beames
And all with faintnesse and for foule disgrace,
He bindes his temples with a frowning cloude,
Ready to darken earth with endlesse night:
Zenocrate that gaue him light and life,
Whose eies shot fire from their Iuory bowers,
And tempered euery soule with liuely heat,
Now by the malice of the angry Skies,
Whose iealousie admits no second Mate,
Drawes in the comfort of her latest breath
All dasled with the hellish mists of death.
Now walk the angels on the walles of heauen,
As Centinels to warne th'immortall soules,
To entertaine deuine Zenocrate.
Apollo, Cynthia, and the ceaslesse lamps
That gently look'd vpon this loathsome earth,
Shine downwards now no more, but deck the heauens
To entertaine diuine Zenocrate.
The christall springs whose taste illuminates
Refined eies with an eternall sight,
Like tried siluer runs through Paradice
To entertaine diuine zenocrate.
The Cherubins and holy Seraphins
That sing and play before the king of kings,
Use all their voices and their instruments
To entertaine diuine Zenocrate.
And in this sweet and currious harmony,
The God that tunes this musicke to our soules:
Holds out his hand in highest maiesty
To entertaine diuine Zenocrate.
Then let some holy trance conuay my thoughts,
Up to the pallace of th'imperiall heauen:
That this my life may be as short to me
As are the daies of sweet Zenocrate:
Phisitions, wil no phisicke do her good?

Phis.
My Lord, your Maiesty shall soone perceiue:
And if she passe this fit, the worst is past.

tam.
Tell me, how fares my faire Zenocrate?

zen.
I fare my Lord, as other Emperesses,
That when this fraile and transitory flesh
Hath suckt the measure of that vitall aire
That feeds the body with his dated health,
Wanes with enforst and necessary change.

tam.
May neuer such a change transfourme my loue
In whose sweet being I repose my life,
Whose heauenly presence beautified with health,
Giues light to Phœbus and the fixed stars,
Whose absence make the sun and Moone as darke
As when opposde in one Diamiter:
Their Spheares are mounted on the serpents head,
Or els discended to his winding traine:
Liue still my Loue and so conserue my life,
Or dieng, be the anchor of my death.

zen.
Liue still my Lord, O let my soueraigne liue,
And sooner let the fiery Element
Dissolue, and make your kingdome in the Sky,
Than this base earth should shroud your maiesty:
For should I but suspect your death by mine,
The comfort of my future happinesse
And hope to meet your highnesse in the heauens,
Turn'd to dispaire, would break my wretched breast
And furie would confound my present rest.
But let me die my Loue, yet let me die,
With loue and patience let your true loue die:
Your griefe and furie hurtes my second life,
Yet let me kisse 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 leaue of these my louing sonnes,
And of my Lords whose true nobilitie
Haue merited my latest memorie:
Sweet sons farewell, in death resemble me,
And in your liues your fathers excellency.
Some musicke, and my fit wil cease my Lord.

They call musicke.
tam.
Proud furie and intollorable fit,
That dares torment the body of my Loue,
And scourge the Scourge of the immortall God:
Now are those Spheares where Cupid vsde to sit,
Wounding the world with woonder and with loue,
Sadly supplied with pale and ghastly death:
Whose darts do pierce the Center of my soule,
Her sacred beauty hath enchaunted heauen,
And had she liu'd before the siege of Troy,
Hellen, whose beauty sommond Greece to armes,
And drew a thousand ships to Tenedos,
Had not bene nam'd in Homers Iliads:
Her name had bene in euery line he wrote:
Or had those wanton Poets, for whose byrth
Olde Rome was proud, but gasde a while on her,
Nor Lesbia, nor Corrinna had bene nam'd,
zenocrate had bene the argument
Of euery Epigram or Eligie.

The musicke sounds, and she dies.
tam.
What, is she dead? Techelles, draw thy sword,
And wound the earth, that it may cleaue in twaine,
And we discend into th'infernall vaults,
To haile the fatall Sisters by the haire,
And throw them in the triple mote of Hell,
For taking hence my faire zenocrate.
Casane and theridamas to armes,
Raise Caualieros higher than the cloudes:
And with the cannon breake the frame of heauen,
Batter the shining pallace of the Sun,
And shiuer all the starry firmament:
For amorous Ioue hath snatcht my loue from hence,
Meaning to make her stately Queene of heauen,
What God so euer holds thee in his armes,
Giuing thee Nectar and Ambrosia,
Behold me here diuine zenocrate,
Rauing, impatient, desperate and mad,
Breaking my steeled lance, with which I burst
The rusty beames of Ianus Temple doores,
Letting out death and tyrannising war:
To martch with me vnder this bloody flag,
And if thou pitiest Tamburlain the great,
Come downe from heauen and liue with me againe.

ther.
Ah good my Lord be patient, she is dead,
And all this raging cannot make her liue,
If woords might serue, our voice hath rent the aire,
If teares, our eies haue watered all the earth:
If griefe, our murthered harts haue straind forth blood
Nothing preuailes, for she is dead my Lord.

tam.
For she is dead? thy words doo pierce my soule
Ah sweet theridamas, say so no more,
Though she be dead, yet let me think she liues,
And feed my mind that dies for want of her:
Where ere her soule be, thou shalt stay with me
Embalm'd with Cassia, Amber Greece and Myrre,
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 tombe as Mausolus,
We both will rest and haue one Epitaph
Writ in as many seuerall languages,
As I haue conquered kingdomes with my sword,
This cursed towne will I consume with fire,
Because this place bereft me of my Loue:
The houses burnt, wil looke as if they mourn'd
And here will I set vp her stature,
And martch about it with my mourning campe,
Drooping and pining for zenocrate.

The Arras is drawen.