Tamburlaine the Great Volume Ii Part 5

Hast thou beheld a peal of ordnance strike A ring of pikes, mingled with shot and horse, [122]

Whose shatter'd limbs, being toss'd as high as heaven, Hang in the air as thick as sunny motes, And canst thou, coward, stand in fear of death?

Hast thou not seen my hors.e.m.e.n charge the foe, Shot through the arms, cut overthwart the hands, Dying their lances with their streaming blood, And yet at night carouse within my tent, Filling their empty veins with airy wine, That, being concocted, turns to crimson blood, And wilt thou shun the field for fear of wounds?

View me, thy father, that hath conquer'd kings, And, with his [123] host, march'd [124] round about the earth, Quite void of scars and clear from any wound, That by the wars lost not a drop [125] of blood, And see him lance [126] his flesh to teach you all.

[He cuts his arm.]

A wound is nothing, be it ne'er so deep; Blood is the G.o.d of war's rich livery.

Now look I like a soldier, and this wound As great a grace and majesty to me, As if a chair of gold enamelled, Enchas'd with diamonds, sapphires, rubies, And fairest pearl of wealthy India, Were mounted here under a canopy, And I sat down, cloth'd with a ma.s.sy robe That late adorn'd the Afric potentate, Whom I brought bound unto Damascus' walls.

Come, boys, and with your fingers search my wound, And in my blood wash all your hands at once, While I sit smiling to behold the sight.

Now, my boys, what think ye of a wound?

CALYPHAS. I know not [127] what I should think of it; methinks 'tis a pitiful sight.

CELEBINUS. 'Tis [128] nothing.--Give me a wound, father.

AMYRAS. And me another, my lord.

TAMBURLAINE. Come, sirrah, give me your arm.

CELEBINUS. Here, father, cut it bravely, as you did your own.

TAMBURLAINE. It shall suffice thou dar'st abide a wound; My boy, thou shalt not lose a drop of blood Before we meet the army of the Turk; But then run desperate through the thickest throngs, Dreadless of blows, of b.l.o.o.d.y wounds, and death; And let the burning of Larissa-walls, My speech of war, and this my wound you see, Teach you, my boys, to bear courageous minds, Fit for the followers of great Tamburlaine.-- Usumcasane, now come, let us march Towards Tech.e.l.les and Theridamas, That we have sent before to fire the towns, The towers and cities of these hateful Turks, And hunt that coward faint-heart runaway, With that accursed [129] traitor Almeda, Till fire and sword have found them at a bay.

USUMCASANE. I long to pierce his [130] bowels with my sword, That hath betray'd my gracious sovereign,-- That curs'd and d.a.m.ned traitor Almeda.

TAMBURLAINE. Then let us see if coward Callapine Dare levy arms against our puissance, That we may tread upon his captive neck, And treble all his father's slaveries.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE III.

Enter TECh.e.l.lES, THERIDAMAS, and their train.

THERIDAMAS. Thus have we march'd northward from Tamburlaine, Unto the frontier point [131] of Soria; [132]

And this is Balsera, their chiefest hold, Wherein is all the treasure of the land.

TECh.e.l.lES. Then let us bring our light artillery, Minions, falc'nets, and sakers, [133] to the trench, Filling the ditches with the walls' wide breach, And enter in to seize upon the hold.-- [134]

How say you, soldiers, shall we not?

SOLDIERS. Yes, my lord, yes; come, let's about it.

THERIDAMAS. But stay a while; summon a parle, drum.

It may be they will yield it quietly, [135]

Knowing two kings, the friends [136] to Tamburlaine, Stand at the walls with such a mighty power.

[A parley sounded.--CAPTAIN appears on the walls, with OLYMPIA his wife, and his SON.]

CAPTAIN. What require you, my masters?

THERIDAMAS. Captain, that thou yield up thy hold to us.

CAPTAIN. To you! why, do you [137] think me weary of it?

TECh.e.l.lES. Nay, captain, thou art weary of thy life, If thou withstand the friends of Tamburlaine.

THERIDAMAS. These pioners [138] of Argier in Africa, Even in [139] the cannon's face, shall raise a hill Of earth and f.a.ggots higher than thy fort, And, over thy argins [140] and cover'd ways, Shall play upon the bulwarks of thy hold Volleys of ordnance, till the breach be made That with his ruin fills up all the trench; And, when we enter in, not heaven itself Shall ransom thee, thy wife, and family.

TECh.e.l.lES. Captain, these Moors shall cut the leaden pipes That bring fresh water to thy men and thee, And lie in trench before thy castle-walls, That no supply of victual shall come in, Nor [any] issue forth but they shall die; And, therefore, captain, yield it quietly. [141]

CAPTAIN. Were you, that are the friends of Tamburlaine, [142]

Brothers of [143] holy Mahomet himself, I would not yield it; therefore do your worst: Raise mounts, batter, intrench, and undermine, Cut off the water, all convoys that can, [144]

Yet I am [145] resolute: and so, farewell.

[CAPTAIN, OLYMPIA, and SON, retire from the walls.]

THERIDAMAS. Pioners, away! and where I stuck the stake, Intrench with those dimensions I prescrib'd; Cast up the earth towards the castle-wall, Which, till it may defend you, labour low, And few or none shall perish by their shot.

PIONERS. We will, my lord.

[Exeunt PIONERS.]

TECh.e.l.lES. A hundred horse shall scout about the plains, To spy what force comes to relieve the hold.

Both we, Theridamas, will intrench our men, And with the Jacob's staff measure the height And distance of the castle from the trench, That we may know if our artillery Will carry full point-blank unto their walls.

THERIDAMAS. Then see the bringing of our ordnance Along the trench into [146] the battery, Where we will have gallions of six foot broad, To save our cannoneers from musket-shot; Betwixt which shall our ordnance thunder forth, And with the breach's fall, smoke, fire, and dust, The crack, the echo, and the soldiers' cry, Make deaf the air and dim the crystal sky.

TECh.e.l.lES. Trumpets and drums, alarum presently!

And, soldiers, play the men; the hold [147] is yours!

[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV.

Alarms within. Enter the CAPTAIN, with OLYMPIA, and his SON.

OLYMPIA. Come, good my lord, and let us haste from hence, Along the cave that leads beyond the foe: No hope is left to save this conquer'd hold.

CAPTAIN. A deadly bullet, gliding through my side, Lies heavy on my heart; I cannot live: I feel my liver pierc'd, and all my veins, That there begin and nourish every part, Mangled and torn, and all my entrails bath'd In blood that straineth [148] from their orifex.

Farewell, sweet wife! sweet son, farewell! I die.

[Dies.]

OLYMPIA. Death, whither art thou gone, that both we live?

Come back again, sweet Death, and strike us both!

One minute and our days, and one sepulchre Contain our bodies! Death, why com'st thou not Well, this must be the messenger for thee: [Drawing a dagger.]

Now, ugly Death, stretch out thy sable wings, And carry both our souls where his remains.-- Tell me, sweet boy, art thou content to die?

These barbarous Scythians, full of cruelty, And Moors, in whom was never pity found, Will hew us piecemeal, put us to the wheel, Or else invent some torture worse than that; Therefore die by thy loving mother's hand, Who gently now will lance thy ivory throat, And quickly rid thee both of pain and life.

SON. Mother, despatch me, or I'll kill myself; For think you I can live and see him dead?

Give me your knife, good mother, or strike home: [149]

The Scythians shall not tyrannize on me: Sweet mother, strike, that I may meet my father.