Tamburlaine the Great Volume I Part 9

BAJAZETH. Ah, fair Zabina! we have lost the field; And never had the Turkish emperor So great a foil by any foreign foe.

Now will the Christian miscreants be glad, Ringing with joy their superst.i.tious bells, And making bonfires for my overthrow: But, ere I die, those foul idolaters Shall make me bonfires with their filthy bones; For, though the glory of this day be lost, Afric and Greece have garrisons enough To make me sovereign of the earth again.

TAMBURLAINE. Those walled garrisons will I subdue, And write myself great lord of Africa: So from the East unto the furthest West Shall Tamburlaine extend his puissant arm.

The galleys and those pilling [183] brigandines, That yearly sail to the Venetian gulf, And hover in the Straits for Christians' wreck, Shall lie at anchor in the Isle Asant, Until the Persian fleet and men-of-war, Sailing along the oriental sea, Have fetch'd about the Indian continent, Even from Persepolis to Mexico, And thence unto the Straits of Jubalter; Where they shall meet and join their force in one.

Keeping in awe the Bay of Portingale, And all the ocean by the British [184] sh.o.r.e; And by this means I'll win the world at last.

BAJAZETH. Yet set a ransom on me, Tamburlaine.

TAMBURLAINE. What, think'st thou Tamburlaine esteems thy gold?

I'll make the kings of India, ere I die, Offer their mines, to sue for peace, to me, And dig for treasure to appease my wrath.-- Come, bind them both, and one lead in the Turk; The Turkess let my love's maid lead away,

[They bind them.]

BAJAZETH. Ah, villains, dare you touch my sacred arms?-- O Mahomet! O sleepy Mahomet!

ZABINA. O cursed Mahomet, that mak'st us thus The slaves to Scythians rude and barbarous!

TAMBURLAINE. Come, bring them in; and for this happy conquest Triumph, and solemnize a martial [185] feast.

[Exeunt.]

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Enter the SOLDAN OF EGYPT, CAPOLIN, LORDS, and a MESSENGER.

SOLDAN. Awake, ye men of Memphis! [186] hear the clang Of Scythian trumpets; hear the basilisks, [187]

That, roaring, shake Damascus' turrets down!

The rogue of Volga holds Zenocrate, The Soldan's daughter, for his concubine, And, with a troop of thieves and vagabonds, Hath spread his colours to our high disgrace, While you, faint-hearted base Egyptians, Lie slumbering on the flowery banks of Nile, As crocodiles that unaffrighted rest While thundering cannons rattle on their skins.

MESSENGER. Nay, mighty Soldan, did your greatness see The frowning looks of fiery Tamburlaine, That with his terror and imperious eyes Commands the hearts of his a.s.sociates, It might amaze your royal majesty.

SOLDAN. Villain, I tell thee, were that Tamburlaine As monstrous [188] as Gorgon prince of h.e.l.l, The Soldan would not start a foot from him.

But speak, what power hath he?

MESSENGER. Mighty lord, Three hundred thousand men in armour clad, Upon their prancing steeds, disdainfully With wanton paces trampling on the ground; Five hundred thousand footmen threatening shot, Shaking their swords, their spears, and iron bills, Environing their standard round, that stood As bristle-pointed as a th.o.r.n.y wood; Their warlike engines and munition Exceed the forces of their martial men.

SOLDAN. Nay, could their numbers countervail the stars, Or ever-drizzling [189] drops of April showers, Or wither'd leaves that autumn shaketh down, Yet would the Soldan by his conquering power So scatter and consume them in his rage, That not a man should [190] live to rue their fall.

CAPOLIN. So might your highness, had you time to sort Your fighting men, and raise your royal host; But Tamburlaine by expedition Advantage takes of your unreadiness.

SOLDAN. Let him take all th' advantages he can: Were all the world conspir'd to fight for him, Nay, were he devil, [191] as he is no man, Yet in revenge of fair Zenocrate, Whom he detaineth in despite of us, This arm should send him down to Erebus, To shroud his shame in darkness of the night.

MESSENGER. Pleaseth your mightiness to understand, His resolution far exceedeth all.

The first day when he pitcheth down his tents, White is their hue, and on his silver crest A snowy feather spangled-white he bears, To signify the mildness of his mind, That, satiate with spoil, refuseth blood: But, when Aurora mounts the second time, As red as scarlet is his furniture; Then must his kindled wrath be quench'd with blood, Not sparing any that can manage arms: But, if these threats move not submission, Black are his colours, black pavilion; His spear, his shield, his horse, his armour, plumes, And jetty feathers, menace death and h.e.l.l; Without respect of s.e.x, degree, or age, He razeth all his foes with fire and sword.

SOLDAN. Merciless villain, peasant, ignorant Of lawful arms or martial discipline!

Pillage and murder are his usual trades: The slave usurps the glorious name of war.

See, Capolin, the fair Arabian king, [192]

That hath been disappointed by this slave Of my fair daughter and his princely love, May have fresh warning to go war with us, And be reveng'd for her disparagement.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE II.

Enter TAMBURLAINE, TECh.e.l.lES, THERIDAMAS, USUMCASANE, ZENOCRATE, ANIPPE, two MOORS drawing BAJAZETH in a cage, and ZABINA following him.

TAMBURLAINE. Bring out my footstool.

[They take BAJAZETH out of the cage.]

BAJAZETH. Ye holy priests of heavenly Mahomet, That, sacrificing, slice and cut your flesh, Staining his altars with your purple blood, Make heaven to frown, and every fixed star To suck up poison from the moorish fens, And pour it [193] in this glorious tyrant's throat!

TAMBURLAINE. The chiefest G.o.d, first mover of that sphere Enchas'd with thousands ever-shining lamps, Will sooner burn the glorious frame of heaven Than it should [194] so conspire my overthrow.

But, villain, thou that wishest this [195] to me, Fall prostrate on the low disdainful earth, And be the footstool of great Tamburlaine, That I may rise into [196] my royal throne.

BAJAZETH. First shalt thou rip my bowels with thy sword, And sacrifice my heart [197] to death and h.e.l.l, Before I yield to such a slavery.

TAMBURLAINE. Base villain, va.s.sal, slave to Tamburlaine, Unworthy to embrace or touch the ground That bears the honour of my royal weight; Stoop, villain, stoop! stoop; [198] for so he bids That may command thee piecemeal to be torn, Or scatter'd like the lofty cedar-trees Struck with the voice of thundering Jupiter.

BAJAZETH. Then, as I look down to the d.a.m.ned fiends, Fiends, look on me! and thou, dread G.o.d of h.e.l.l, With ebon sceptre strike this hateful earth, And make it swallow both of us at once!

[TAMBURLAINE gets up on him into his chair.]

TAMBURLAINE. Now clear the triple region of the air, And let the Majesty of Heaven behold Their scourge and terror tread on emperors.

Smile, stars that reign'd at my nativity, And dim the brightness of your [199] neighbour lamps; Disdain to borrow light of Cynthia!

For I, the chiefest lamp of all the earth, First rising in the east with mild aspect, But fixed now in the meridian line, Will send up fire to your turning spheres, And cause the sun to borrow light of you.

My sword struck fire from his coat of steel, Even in Bithynia, when I took this Turk; As when a fiery exhalation, Wrapt in the bowels of a freezing cloud, Fighting for pa.s.sage, make[s] the welkin crack, And casts a flash of lightning to [200] the earth: But, ere I march to wealthy Persia, Or leave Damascus and th' Egyptian fields, As was the fame of Clymene's brain-sick son That almost brent [201] the axle-tree of heaven, So shall our swords, our lances, and our shot Fill all the air with fiery meteors; Then, when the sky shall wax as red as blood, It shall be said I made it red myself, To make me think of naught but blood and war.

ZABINA. Unworthy king, that by thy cruelty Unlawfully usurp'st the Persian seat, Dar'st thou, that never saw an emperor Before thou met my husband in the field, Being thy captive, thus abuse his state, Keeping his kingly body in a cage, That roofs of gold and sun-bright palaces Should have prepar'd to entertain his grace?

And treading him beneath thy loathsome feet, Whose feet the kings [202] of Africa have kiss'd?

TECh.e.l.lES. You must devise some torment worse, my lord, To make these captives rein their lavish tongues.

TAMBURLAINE. Zenocrate, look better to your slave.

ZENOCRATE. She is my handmaid's slave, and she shall look That these abuses flow not from [203] her tongue.-- Chide her, Anippe.