University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

A Guard of Masquetiers: Axalla and Irene behind. Enter Tamerlane, disguiz'd.
Tam.
Slave to my Passions, Scandal to my self,
Here stand the Ruines of great Tamerlane,
Right reverend Remains! Fine mouldring Statue!
Poor Thunder-blasted Oak; sometime the Glory, now
The just reproach of all the neighb'ring Shrubs.
Fine Quirk, to salve the Conscience, to let others kill me!
Well, 'tis all one, as if I kill'd my self:
And that's no harm, since I'm no more myself:
The Magistrate in me destroys the Malefactor;
And this form pleases best, a comlier shape
Of Death.

Ax.
'Tis as I guess'd; I know 'tis he, by his Majestic Meen,
His piercing Eyes that use to strike men speechless;
Tho Suns are Clouded, yet the Day-light shows
When they're ascended in our Hemisphere.

Ire.
Oh Heav'ns! It is the Emperor: I'll go to him.

Ax.
Oh, by no means, I've told the Guards already.

Enter Zeylan disguiz'd.
Zey.
I hope 'tis not too late, tho time is precious,
Now my Philarmia's acting her last part;
My Trumpet saw her led away to Judgement,
By this time she's condemned, perhaps led out
To Execution: yet if it were so,
How comes the World to be no more disorder'd,
No Earthquake, no Eclips, Convulsion, Blindness?
Can Nature keep an equal Pulse, or have
A healthful look in such an Agony,
When she that is the Life of Nature's dying?
Ah, poor Philarmia! must thou lose thy Life
For sparing mine? Unhappy headstrong Girl!
Well, thus far I have got into their Camp
With this Disguise: I'll find some other means
To see this high and mighty God-like Man,
And with this Dagger search his haughty Heart,
And try if it be mortal; so prevent
Her Death by the Confusion, tho I lose
My Life to do't, or perish all together.

Tam.
All my Commands are lost, ther's none will shoot:
I, whom so many Millions late obey'd,
Am slighted, scorn'd. Have I no Friend, nor Foe,
To put a stop to my declining Honor?
'Tis hard. Rogues, Traitors, fawning Slaves
To the Coward Tamerlane: Now I cou'd wish
For raging Bajazet, to be my Orator.

1 Sold.
'Tis the Emperor, as the General told us.

2. Sold.
My Life, 'tis he by's Voice; Camrade, my Powder's wet.

3. Sold.
And my hand shakes, I cannot hold my Arms

Tam.
What, Am I yet contemned? Slaves, Cowards, Dogs,
Whom do you guard here, wandring Tamerlane,
That Renegade, Cut-throat, glorious Thief,
Whom Fortune meant the Gallows, gave the Throne to?

Zey.
What a bold Fellow's this, that rails against
His Prince, and no man shoots him? sure 'tis some
Discontented Votary of China that contemns
The Conqueror's Laws.
This Fellow may assist me in my design.

(Goes up to Tam.)
Tam.
Ha! a Spy o'th'Enemy's!

Zey.
Methinks, I see
Some discontent writ on thy brow: Art thou
So weary of thy Life, to rail upon
The Emperor to his Guards?

Tam.
I, that I am:
And I would have him kill'd.

Zey.
And so wou'd I,
For stronger Reasons, cou'd I pass his Guards.

Tam.
Merciful Providence that brought thee hither,
My dear chance Friend!
I will assist thee in thy brave design,
And bring thee where he is. But, since thou'rt in
A killing mood, thou shalt kill me: not that
I love him dearer than I do my self;
But 'tis more Charity to kill a Man prepar'd,
To ease a Wretch opprest,
And groaning under Loads of weighty Sorrows.

Zey.
Why shou'd I kill an Innocent that ne'r provok'd me?

Tam.
Alass, I'm not so harmless;
I have done many vile and barbarous Murders,
Committed Sacrilege, unpeopled Cities:
Here stands the Man, that has destroy'd more of
Mankind, than ever Mortal did, since the Creation.

Zey.
Alass, poor Frantick Wretch!

Tam.
Mistake me not, I've been a General,
And am guilty of all Crimes, committed
By my Command: Then, if a man deserves
To dye for single Murders, can the greater
Number excuse him? Men Duel for Revenge,
A hasty piece of Justice, and do freely
Exchange each others Lives, which each man has a right to:
We murder Thousands that did ne'r provoke us
With wrongful Deed, or Sharper Contumelies.

Zey.
In that thou hast some Reason.

Tam.
Nay, lately I have done the most abhorr'd
And Hellish Act, that History e'r spoke of:
I have condemn'd a guiltless Person, twice
Has sav'd my Life, only to please my Lust.
Don't I deserve Damnation? May not I
Obtain from thy kind Hand, that longs to do
Some great Heroic mischief,
The lovely Death-stroke?

Zey.
Alass, I pity thee;
And have no cognizance of these thy Crimes,
Half wash'd away by Penitence.

Tam.
Well then,
Suppose that I was Tamerlane; wou'dst thou not kill me?

Zey.
I, that I wou'd, with much more eager hast
Than quench my thirst with Nectar, or my Love
With Venus, or with Helen, or with her
Whom above all my longing Soul holds dearest;
Lov'd at first sight, and never after chang'd.

Tam.
I see 'tis Love that makes us Madmen all.
Then I am Tamerlane, the Terror of the World.

Zey.
Rather it's Scorn, or Pity. Alass, poor Madman!
Wrought up by idle Fumes t'affect to dye
For such a Mighty Monarch.

Tam.
I tell thee, I
Am he; the Wrath of Heav'n, the Scourge of Mortals:
'Tis I that have enslav'd thy native Soil,
My Sword has Widow'd half the Universe,
Turn'd the World wrongside outwards, in the toss
Broke all the brittle Laws, that e'r Mankind
Compos'd, their paltry Earthen Wares of Justice:
And all for Glory, damn'd eternal Fame.
Take thy Revenge.

Zey.
Vain madman, hold thy Peace.

Tam.
Why then, by Mahomet, I am.

Zey.
Falsly
Thou swear'st by thy false Prophet, who can take
No vengeance for thy Perjury, nor hears it:
Nor will I e'r believe thee.

Tam.
aside.
Double Infidel:
It is impossible here to convince him
Well, well, I long to dye, 'cause Life's a burthen;
But if I show thee Tamerlane, in all
His glory, compass'd in with Guards, and circled
With prostrate Princes in his bright Pavilion,
And like the mid-day Sun with all his Rayes about him,
And after find out means to have him single,
And then a way for thee t'escape when thou
Hast kill'd him: Will that merit Thanks, or Friendship?

Zey.
Why, now thou speak'st: and cou'dst thou make it good,
Were I the greatest Man that trod on Earth,
And with my hand cou'd reach the spangled Spheres,
And distribute mens Fortunes with their Stars;
I wou'd Depose my self, to be thy Slave,
And lick the Dust before thee.

Tam.
If I betray thee, Heav'n revenge the Falshood.

Zey.
Come then, my Perjur'd Madman, I will trust thee,
And thou shalt Steer me in this unknown Coast;
For what have I to save, Philarmia lost?

[Exeunt.
Enter Ragalzan, Despina.
Rag.
This was a rare request, a Master-piece of Malice:
There's nothing but a Woman cou'd have thought on't.
How cou'd you work him to this height?

Desp.
With ease:
Lovers will wind themselves by Words to Passion,
Their Airy talk turns Fire by agitation:
Thus, sometimes yielding, sometimes aggravating,
'Twixt Hope and Fear, like Ships betray'd by Calms
To greater Storms; I then extorted from him
Such monstrous Oaths, such wild and Impious offers,
The Gods might be asham'd to be so Hector'd.

Rag.
Oh, good, good, good! But did not he deny
What he affirm'd, as soon as he had heard
Your admirable Suit?

Desp.
Oh, yes, most fiercely.
But cou'd I think such mean things of a Hero,
A double Cœsar, triple Alexander?
And you had told me all the Truth before.

Rag.
It was too true. How cou'd he be secure
Had Bajazet escap'd? The Turkish Garrisons
Had all revolted. But I've found a way
To make him constant to his Vow, and swallow't glibly.
The Mufti's here, and the Dervises too,
About Petitions from their several Churches.
The Mufti's supler than a new oyl'd Tumbler,
When you have greas'd his Fist: give him a colour,
To make things doubtful, then throw Dice for Justice.
They all shall find it Lawful, and require him
To offer up his Daughter.

Desp.
That's enough:
Let me alone to give the fatal Period.
But how does he digest this Compound Passion?

Rag.
I come not near him; but he raves Divinely:
Love and Ambition fiercely fight within him;
When Nature steps to part them, both fall on him:
Love pities her at last, and takes her part,
Then both go to't again, and fight for ever;
Those Mastiffs are too keen to loose their hold.

Desp.
Oh, thou refreshest me with cheerful Sounds,
With all the Music of sublime Revenge!
Oh, thou hast given me Spirit of Joy to drink!

Rag.
Nay, then take t'other Dram. His pretty Daughter
Came to him since, and with her Innocent Prate
Has so betwich'd him, that he went out strait
And told his Passion to the gaping Army:
And wou'd have kill'd himself, if not prevented.

Desp.
I wou'd have hindred him: I wou'd not have him dye so unprepar'd
His Life and Fame shall perish both together.

Rag.
But yet some easier way might have been found.

Desp.
This is the nobler method.
I'll wound him in his Fame, his tender'st part,
To which his Life has ever been a Drudge,
And run of errands over all the World:
I'll make the angry Lyon scourge himself
With his own Tail; and then give him his Fate
As certain, as unlook'd for.
When he has offer'd up his bloody Victim
To my great Shrine, his dear and dutiful Irene,
The Saviour of his Life, Age's Supporter;
Abhor'd by all his Friends, by's Foes contemn'd,
Deserted by Mankind, by Heav'n rejected,
Then let him dye with all his Shames about him.
Petty Revengess, are for Petty Crimes;
And pardon me, great Soul of Bajazet,
If th'Earth afford no greater an Atonement
For thy dear Blood.
Pray give me an account of all proceedings,
That we may feast our selves on his Afflictions.

Rag.
I Will not lose my share of the least morsel.

[Exeunt.
Tamerlane in his Pavilion: Princes and Servants about him.
Tam.
giving a Ring to one of his Guards.
Go tell the Countryman, that sits without
At the Pavilion Gate, that by this Token,
The man that left him there, desires him to
Come In: not a word more, upon your duty.
[Exit Guard.
Now is the time, to put a period to
This languishing Distemper, flattering Fever,
This merry Madness, this Apulian Sting,
That makes men rage in measures: now I'le shake off
This rude Companion, Love, that blinds Men first,
Then gives them blows in jest, that smart in earnest.

Enter Guard, with Zeylan disguis'd.
Zey.
Am I betray'd, or no? Here stands the Prince;
But where's my Guide, I know not! 'Tis no matter,
I'll make a bold Attack, and lose my Life in't.

Tam.
Let all withdraw, and leave me with this Stranger.
Come, Friend, draw nearer, view me more exactly,
And tell me, if your Partner in Affliction
Has kept his Word. Am I forsworn, or no?
Am not I Tamerlane?

Zey.
Death, 'tis the same;
Shining in all his Glory! What means this Riddle?

Tam.
Nay, fear not to come near me.

Zey.
'Tis not Fear, but Wonder.

Tam.
Here, take this Dagger, strike this open Brest;
But yet, before you do this welcom Act,
Here is the Door you must escape at, to
The River's side; where lies a Boat prepar'd
to take in the next Comer, which will strait
Row you to Zeylan's Citadel, before
The Deed be known: and here's a Cabinet
Not very weighty, but worth many Millions,
The Spoils of Turky, Persia, Ægypt, China,
Muscovy, Syria, Afric, Indostan;
If thou get'st clear from hence, thou hast enough
To purchase thee a Kingdom.

Zey.
Sure Fame has
Not flatter'd him: he's a Man of wondrous Virtue!
But Thrones are not exempt from fatal Sorrows.
Can I consent to kill my Benefactor?

Tam.
There's nothing thou canst do, that can deserve
So great Rewards, but this. Alass! I'm weary
Of Life, my Empire is too great a Burden,
Without the over-weight of private Griefs:
I never yet refus'd the thing was ask'd me,
Nor ever sent a sad Man from my presence;
And shall I be deny'd so small, so just a Favor?

Zey.
My Vengeance fails me. Most Heroic Prince,
I cannot guide this Dagger to your Brest;
I beg but one Request, in satisfaction
Of all the Wrongs, the World, or you have done me.

Tam.
Refuse not this to me, and I'll refuse thee
Nothing, that my unbounded Empire yields.

Zey.
Here on my knees I'll try your Virtue first:
I beg, Sir, a young Beardless Captain's Life,
That is condemn'd to dye, for letting Zeylan
Escape, that was his Prisoner.

Tam.
I grant it freely.

Zey.
Why, then as freely here I give you Zeylan,
[pulls off his disguise.
With all my Forces, all my Reputation
Acquir'd in Arms, and lye still at your Mercy;
But, know the weighty Reason: she's my Mistress
In that disguise. No smothering Revenge,
Nor over-looking Envy, nor vile Treason,
Mov'd me to this; but her dear Life endanger'd
Urg'd me to undertake your Death, my own,
The ruine of the World, that my fair Saint
Might fly out in the merciful Confusion.

Tam.
But art thou Zeylan? Welcom noble Prince,
[Embraces him.
Prop to thy falling Country, China's Redeemer!
Can there be so much Virtue in the World?
And Love the Cause, dire Love, that monstrous Passion?
'Tis I that am thy Prisoner: here I yield thee
My Sword, with all its Conquests, all its Glories,
With more serene, and unconcern'd a Freedom
Than Virgins do their Beauties, Saints their Souls,
To Heaven, or Hymen: but be sure thou give me
No Quarter; take my Life; for if thou spare it,
Perhaps I may resume the rest. Thou art
The fittest Man to execute this Sacred Act:
Oh, now 'tis Justice, that before was Fury.

Zey.
Pray, Sir, be pleased to call first to your Guards;
Her precious Life's at Stake.

Tam.
Guards, make hast;
Carry my Pardon to the sentenc'd Captain
That let Prince Zeylan scape. Now, Sir,
To my Request: be speedy, and begon
With all your Treasure, lest the Soldiers Fury
O'rwhelm you. Come, ease me quickly.

Zey.
I have not, Sir, been bred in Foreign Courts,
Nor can I talk of high-flown Rules of Honor,
Those nice distinctions, fram'd in Virtue's School;
But I have some rude Sparks of Nature, show me,
By their dim light,
How great a Monster is Ingratitude.

Tam.
Thou art ungrateful then, if thou deny me this
So just Request, since I have answer'd thine:
Death is to me a greater Gift, than Life
Is to thy Mistress. Is there a greater good
Than to be lull'd asleep from endless griefs,
And wake no more to find 'em?
Thou art unjust too to thy Native Country;
Nor canst thou answer this to Heav'n, or Earth:
Nor will the Ghosts of all thy slaughter'd Friends
Let thee sleep quiet, till they are Reveng'd;
They'l haunt thee, tear thee in ten Thousand pieces,
And send a Sampler of thee to each Corner
Of the wide mischief-studying Earth, to teach
The World the Fate of Traytors to their Country.

Zey.
I never heard Great. Tamerlane abus'd
Heav'ns favors to Excess; but his well-temper'd Sword
Still carv'd out work for his diffusive Mercy;
The petty Wranglers of the Universe
Chose rather to submit to his Just Sceptre,
Than to subdue each other:
Shall I deprive the World of all its Lustre,
The Ornament of Story, Task of Fame,
Extinguish the great Light graces and guides it,
And by your Glory raise my Infamy?
Urge me not to a Crime your self would fly from.

Tam.
Is there such Honor in the World besides?
How many Climates have I pass'd, and now
At last have found it in this Savage Corner?
Sure 'tis instill'd by Nature, not by Precept.
'Tis time to dye now, for a weighty Reason:
Thou hast out-done me in my own Pretensions,
And rais'd the price of Honor to that rate,
'Twou'd ruine me, and all my Conquer'd Earth
To rise to the vast Purchase. Oh, the Mark's too high
For me to reach; I'll quit the Field
In Virtue, and return to Tyranny:
Kill me, or else thy Mistress dyes.

Zey.
kneeling.
The Gods forbid.
Oh, look upon her first, and she will melt you:
You cannot hurt so sweet an Innocence.
I know you cannot, Nature will not bear it:
She'l smile away your Anger; or she'l thaw
Your frozen heart t'a Torrent, with her Tears.
She is the Joy of Nature, Pride of Heav'n,
The Idol of all Eyes that e'r beheld her:
Tygers wou'd lose their fierceness at her sight,
And can Mankind hold Weapons to destroy her?
Oh, save her, save her, save her, Virtuous Prince,
And let my Life redeem her.

Tam.
Rise, brave Friend.
No; both shall live together, and live happy:
I take delight in the content of all men,
Less dear than thee, tho I have none my Self.
Well, I'll not press thee 'gainst the sense of Honor,
And Nature too: I know too well the weight
They bear, in well-born Souls. A Thousand ways
There are, to the great Joy that thou deny'st me:
I'll wait a little longer, spread my Sails
To the next Wind, to waft me to my Port,
Where I will Anchor, and Lanch out no more.
But, to return th'Heroic Resignation,
I make thee King of China.

Zey.
Vice-Roy rather,
When I have Conquer'd the remaining Rebels.

Tam.
Then, by my last Will I bequeath it Thee;
My death shall soon confirm it. Let's go out,
And strait declare it to the wondring Army.
The World's my own: let's leave it in full Light;
That Sun makes no fair Day, that sets not Bright.