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Act 2, Scene 1

[Enter] Cosroe, Menaphon, Ortygius, Ceneus, with other Souldiers.

Thus farre are we towards Theridamas,
And valiant Tamburlaine, the man of fame,
The man that in the forhead of his fortune,
Beares figures of renowne and myracle:
But tell me, that hast seene him, Menephon,
What stature wields he, and what personage?

Of stature tall, and straightly fashioned,
Like his desire, lift upwards and divine,
So large of lims, his joints so strongly knit,
Such breadth of shoulders as might mainely beare
Olde Atlas burthen. Twixt his manly pitch,
A pearle more worth, then all the world is plaste:
Wherein by curious soveraintie of Art,
Are fixt his piercing instruments of sight:
Whose fiery cyrcles beare encompassed
A heaven of heavenly bodies in their Spheares
That guides his steps and actions to the throne,
Where honor sits invested royally:
Pale of complexion: wrought in him with passion,
Thirsting with soverainty, with love of armes:
His lofty browes in foldes, do figure death,
And in their smoothnesse, amitie and life:
About them hangs a knot of Amber heire,
Wrapped in curles, as fierce Achilles was,
On which the breath of heaven delights to play,
Making it daunce with wanton majestie:
His armes andfingers long and sinowy,
Betokening valour and excesse of strength:
In every part proportioned like the man,
Should make the world subdued to Tamburlaine.

Wel hast thou pourtraid in thy tearms of life,
The face and personage of a woondrous man:
Nature doth strive with Fortune and his stars,
To make him famous in accomplisht woorth:
And well his merits show him to be made
His Fortunes maister, and the king of men,
That could perswade at such a sodaine pinch,
With reasons of his valour and his life,
A thousand sworne and overmatching foes:
Then when our powers in points of swords are join'd,
And closde in compasse of the killing bullet,
Though straight the passage and the port be made,
That leads to Pallace of my brothers life,
Proud is his fortune if we pierce it not.
And when the princely Persean Diadem,
Shall overway his wearie witlesse head,
And fall like mellowed fruit, with shakes of death,
In faire Persea noble Tamburlaine
Shall be my Regent, and remaine as King.

In happy hower we have set the Crowne
Upon your kingly head, that seeks our honor,
In joyning with the man, ordain'd by heaven
To further every action to the best.

He that with Shepheards and a litle spoile,
Durst in disdaine of wrong and tyrannie,
Defend his freedome gainst a Monarchie:
What will he doe supported by a king?
Leading a troope of Gentlemen and Lords,
And stuff with treasure for his highest thoughts?

And such shall wait on worthy Tamburlaine
Our army will be forty thousand strong,
When Tamburlain and brave Theridamas
Have met us by the river Araris:
And all conjoin'd to meet the witlesse King,
That now is marching neer to Parthia:
And with unwilling souldiers faintly arm'd,
To seeke revenge on me and Tamburlaine.
To whom sweet Menaphon, direct me straight.

I will my Lord.

Act 2, Scene 2

[Enter] Mycetes, Meander, with other Lords and Souldiers.

Come my Meander, let us to this geere,
I tel you true my heart is swolne with wrath,
On this same theevish villaine Tamburlaine
And of that false Cosroe, my traiterous brother.
Would it not grieve a King to be so abusde,
And have a thousand horsmen tane away?
And which is worst to have his Diadem
Sought for by such scalde knaves as love him not?
I thinke it would: wel then, by heavens I sweare,
Aurora shatl not peepe out of her doves,
But I will have Cosroe by the head,
And kill proud Tamburlaine with point of sword.
Tell you the rest (Meander) I have said.

Then having past Armenian deserts now,
And pitcht our tents under the Georgean hilles,
Whose tops are covered with Tartarian thieves,
That lie in ambush, waiting for a pray:
What should we doe but bid them battaile straight,
And rid the world of those detested troopes?
Least if we let them lynger here a while,
They gather strength by power of fresh supplies.
This countrie swarmes with vile outragious men,
That live by rapine and by lawlesse spoile,
Fit Souldiers for the wicked Tamburlaine
And he that could with giftes and promises
Inveigle him that lead a thousand horse,
And make him false his faith unto his King,
Will quickly win such as are like himselfe.
Therefore cheere up your mindes, prepare to fight,
He that can take or slaughter Tamburlaine,
Shall rule the Province of Albania
Who brings that Traitors head Theridamas,
Shal have a government in Medea:
Beside the spoile of him and all his traine:
But if Cosroe (as our Spials say,
And as we know) remaines with Tamburlaine,
His Highnesse pleasure is that he should live,
And be reclaim'd with princely lenitie.
[Enter a Spy.]

A Spy
An hundred horsmen of my company
Scowting abroad upon these champion plaines,
Have view'd the army of the Scythians,
Which make reports it far exceeds the Kings.

Suppose they be in number infinit,
Yet being void of Martiall discipline,
All running headlong after greedy spoiles:
And more regarding gaine than victory:
Like to the quell brothers of the earth,
Sprong of the teeth of Dragons venomous,
Their carelesse swords shal ranch their fellowes throats
And make us triumph in their overthrow.

Was there such brethren, sweet Meander, say,
That sprong of teeth of Dragons venomous?

So Poets say, my Lord.

And tis a prety toy to be a Poet.
Wel, wel (Meander) thou art deeply read:
And having thee, I have a jewell sure:
Go on my Lord, and give your charge I say,
Thy wit will make us Conquerors to day.

Then noble souldiors, to intrap these theeves,
That live confounded in disordered troopes,
If wealth or riches may prevaile with them,
We have our Cammels laden all with gold:
Which you that be but common souldiers,
Shall fling in every corner of the field:
And while the base borne Tartars take it up,
You fighting more for honor than for gold,
Shall massacre those greedy minded slaves.
And when their scattered armie is subdu'd,
And you march on their slaughtered carkasses:
Share equally the gold that bought their lives,
And live like Gentlemen in Persea.
Strike up the Drum and martch corragiously,
Fortune her selfe dooth sit upon our Crests.

He tells you true, my maisters, so he does.
Drums, why sound ye not when Meander speaks.

Act 2, Scene 3

[Enter]Cosroe, Tamburlaine, Theridamas, Techelles, Usumcasane, Ortygius,with others.

Now worthy Tamburlaine, have I reposde,
In thy approoved Fortunes all my hope,
What thinkst thou man, shal come of our attemptes?
For even as from assured oracle,
I take thy doome for satisfaction.

And so mistake you not a whit my Lord.
For Fates and Oracles of heaven have sworne,
To roialise the deedes of Tamburlaine:
And make them blest that share in his attemptes.
And doubt you not, but if you favour me,
And let my Fortunes and my valour sway,
To some direction in your martiall deeds,
The world will strive with hostes of men at armes,
To swarme unto the Ensigne I support.
The host of Xerxes, which by fame is said
To drinke the mightie Parthian Araris,
Was but a handful to that we will have.
Our quivering Lances shaking in the aire,
And bullets like Joves dreadfull Thunderbolts,
Enrolde in flames and fiery smoldering misses,
Shall threat the Gods more than Cyclopian warres,
And with our Sun-bright armour as we march,
Weel chase the Stars from heaven, and dim their eies
That stand and muse at our admyred armes.

You see my Lord, what woorking woordes he hath
But when you see his actions top his speech,
Your speech will stay, or so extol his worth,
As I shall be commended and excusde
For turning my poore charge to his direction.
And these his two renowmed friends my Lord,
Would make one thrust and strive to be retain'd
In such a great degree of amitie.

With dutie and with amitie we yeeld
Our utmost service to the faire Cosroe.

Which I esteeme as portion of my crown.
Usumcansae and Techelles both,
When she that rules in Rhamnis golden gates,
And makes a passage for all prosperous Armes,
Shall make me solely Emperour of Asia:
Then shall your meeds and vallours be advaunst
Toroomes of honour and Nobilitie.

Then haste Cosroe to be king alone,
That I with these my friends and all my men,
May triumph in our long expected Fate.
The King your Brother is now hard at hand,
Meete with the foole, and rid your royall shoulders
Of such a burthen, as outwaies the sands
And all the craggie rockes of Caspea.
[Enter a Messenger.]

My Lord, we have discovered the enemie
Ready to chardge you with a mighty armie.

Come, Tamburlain, now whet thy winged sword
And lift thy lofty arme into the cloudes,
That it may reach the King of Perseas crowne,
And set it safe on my victorious head.

See where it is, the keenest Cutle-axe,
That ere made passage thorow Persean Armes.
These are the wings shall make it flie as swift,
As dooth the lightening, or the breath of heaven:
And kill as sure as it swiftly flies.

Thy words assure me of kind successe:
Go valiant Souldier, go before and charge
The fainting army of that foolish King.

Usumcasane and Techelles come,
We are enough to scarre the enemy,
And more than needes to make an Emperour.

Act 2, Scene 4

To the Battaile, and Mycetes comes out alone with his Crowne in his hand, offrering to hide it.

Accurst be he that first invented war,
They knew not, ah, they knew not simple men,
How those were hit by pelting Cannon shot,
Stand staggering like a quivering Aspen leafe,
Fearing the force of Boreas boistrous blasts.
In what a lamentable case were I,
If Nature had not given me wisedomes lore?
For Kings are clouts that every man shoots at,
Our Crowne the pin that thousands seeke to cleave.
Therefore in pollicie I thinke itgood
To hide it close: a goodly Stratagem,
And far from any man that is a foole.
So shall not I be knower, or if I bee,
They cannot take away my crowne from me.
Here will I hide it in this simple hole.
Enter Tamburlain.

What, fearful coward, stragling from the camp
When Kings themselves are present in the field?

Thou liest.

Base villaine, darst thou give the lie?

Away, I am the King: go, touch me not.
Thou breakst the law of Armes unlesse thou kneele,
And cry me mercie, noble King.

Are you the witty King of Persea?

I marie am I: have you any suite to me?

I would intreat you to speak but three wise wordes.

So I can when I see my time.

Is this your Crowne?

I, Didst thou ever see a fairer?

You will not sell it, wil ye?

Such another word, and I will have thee executed.
Come give it me.

No, I tooke it prisoner.

You lie, I gave it you.

Then tis mine.

No, I meane, I let you keep it.

Wel, I meane you shall have it againe.
Here take it for a while, I lend it thee,
Till I may see thee hem'd with armed men.
Then shalt thou see me pull it from thy head:
Thou art no match for mightie Tamburlaine.

O Gods, is this Tamburlaine the thiefe,
Imarveile much he stole it not away.
Sound trumpets to the battell, andhe runs in.

Act 2, Scene 5

[Enter] Cosroe, Tamburlaine, Theridamas, Menaphon, Meander, Oreygius,Techelles, Usumcasane, with others.

Holde thee Cosroe, weare two imperiall Crownes.
Thinke thee invested now as royally,
Even by the mighty hand of Tamburlaine,
As if as many kinges as could encompasse thee,
With greatest pompe had crown'd thee Emperour.

So do I thrice renowmed man at armes,
And none shall keepe the crowne but Tamburlaine:
Thee doo I make my Regent of Persea,
And Generall Lieftenant of my Armies.
Meander, you that were our brothers Guide,
And chiefest Counsailor in all his acts,
Since he is yeelded to the stroke of War,
On your submission we with thanks excuse,
And give you equall place in our affaires.

Most happy Emperour in humblest tearms
I vow my service to your Majestie,
With utmost vertue of my faith and dutie.

Thanks good Meander, then Cosroe reign
And governe Persea in her former pomp:
Now send Ambassage to thy neighbor Kings,
And let them know the Persean King is chang'd:
From one that knew not what a King should do,
To one that can commaund what longs thereto:
And now we will to faire Persepolis,
With twenty thousand expert souldiers.
The Lords and Captaines of my brothers campe,
With litle slaughter take Meanders course,
And gladly yeeld them to my gracious rule:
Ortigius and Menaphon, my trustie friendes,
Now will I gratify your former good,
And grace your calling with a greater sway.

And as we ever aim'd at your behoofe,
And sought your state all honor it deserv'd,
So will we with our powers and our lives,
Indevor to preserve and prosper it.

I will not thank thee (sweet Ortigius)
Better replies shall proove my purposes.
And now Lord Tamburlaine, my brothers Campe
I leave to thee, and to Theridamas,
To follow me to faire Persepolis
Then will we march to all those Indian Mines,
My witlesse brother to the Christians lost:
And ransome them with fame and usurie.
And till thou overtake me Tamburlaine,
(Staying to order all the scattered troopes)
Farewell Lord Regent, and his happie friends,
I long to sit upon my brothers throne.

Your Majestie shall shortly have your wish
And ride in triumph through Persepolis
Manent Tamburlaine, Techelles, Theridamas, Usumcasane.

And ride in triumph through Persepolis ?
Is it not brave to be a King, Techelles?
Usumcasane and Theridamas,
Is it not passing brave to be a King,
And ride in triumph through Persepolis?

Omy Lord, tis sweet and full of pompe.

To be a King, is halfe to be a God.

A God is not so glorious as a King,
I thinke the pleasure they enjoy in heaven
Can not compare with kingly joyes in earth.
To weare a Crowne enchac'd with pearle and golde,
Whose vertues carte with it life and death.
To aske, and have: commaund, and be obeied.
When looks breed love, with lookes to gaine the prize.
Such power attractive shines in princes eies.

Why say Theridamas, wilt thou be a king?

Nay, though I praise it, I can live without it.

What saies my other friends, wil you be kings?

I, if I could with all my heart my Lord.

Why, that's wel said Techelles, so would I,
And so would you my maisters, would you not?

What then my Lord ?

Why then Casane,shall we wish for ought
The world affoords in greatest noveltie,
And rest attemplesse, faint and destitute?
Me thinks we should not, I am strongly moov'd,
That if I should desire the Persean Crowne,
I could attaine it with a woondrous ease,
And would not all our souldiers soone consent,
If we should aime at such a dignitie?

I know they would with our perswasions.

Why then Theridamas, Ile first assay,
To get the Persean Kingdome to my selfe:
Then thou for Parthia, they for Scythia and Medea.
And if I prosper, all shall be as sure,
As if the Turke, the Pope, Affrike and Greece,
Came creeping to us with their crownes apace.

Then shall we send to this triumphing King,
And bid him battell for his novell Crowne?

Nay quickly then, before his roome be hot.

Twil proove a pretie jest (in faith) my friends.

A jest to chardge on twenty thousand men?
I judge the purchase more important far.

Judge by thy selfe Theridamas, not me,
For presently Techelles here shal haste,
To bid him battaile ere he passe too farre,
And lose more labor than the gaine will quight.
Then shalt thou see the Scythian Tamburlaine,
Make but a jest to win the Persean crowne.
Techelles, take a thousand horse with thee,
And bid him turne him back to war with us,
That onely made him King to make us sport.
We will not steale upon him cowardly,
But give him warning and more warriours.
Haste thee Techelles, we will follow thee.
What saith Theridamas?

Goe on for me.

Act 2, Scene 6

[Enter] Cosroe, Meander, Ortygius, Menaphon, with other Souldiers.

What means this divelish shepheard to aspire
With such a Giantly presumption,
To cast up hils against the face of heaven:
And dare the force of angrie Jupiter
But as he thrust them underneath the tails,
And press outfire from their burning jawes:
So will I send this monstrous slave to hell,
Where flames shall ever feed upon his soule.

Some powers divine, or els infernall, mixt
Their angry seeds at his conception:
For he was never sprong of humaine race,
Since with the spirit of his fearefull pride,
He dares so doubtlesly resolve of rule,
And by profession be ambitious.

What God or Feend, or spirit of the earth,
Or Monster turned to a manly shape,
Or of what mould or mettel he be made,
What star or state soever governe him,
Let us put on our meet incountring minces,
And in detesting such a divelish Thiefe,
In love of honor and defence of right,
Be arm'd against the hate of such a foe,
Whether from earth, or hell, or heaven he grow.

Nobly resolv'd, my good Ortygius.
And since we all have suckt one wholsome aire,
And with the same proportion of Elements
Resolve, I hope we are resembled,
Vowing our loves to equall death and life
Let's cheere our souldiers to incounter him,
That grievous image of ingratitude:
That fiery thirster after Soveraigntie:
And burne him in the fury of that flame,
That none can quence but blood and Emperie.
Resolve my Lords and loving souldiers now,
To save your King and country from decay:
Then strike up Drum, and all the Starres that make
The loathsome Circle of my dated life,
Direct my weapon to his barbarous heart,
That thus opposeth him against the Gods,
And scornes the Powers that governe Persea.

Act 2, Scene 7

Exeunt to the Battell, and after the battell, enter Cosroe wounded, Theridamas, Tamburlaine, Techelles, Usumcasane, with others.

Barbarous and bloody Tamburlaine,
Thus to deprive me of my crowne and life.
Treacherous and false Theridamas,
Even at the morning of my happy state,
Scarce being seated in my royall throne,
To worke my downfall and untimely end.
An uncouth paine torments my grieved soule,
And death arrests the organe of my voice,
Who entring at the breach thy sword hath made
Sackes every vaine and artier of my heart.
Bloody and insatiate Tamburlain

The thirst of raigne and sweetnes of a crown,
That causde the eldest sonne of heavenly Ops,
To thrust his doting father from his chaire,
And place himselfe in the Emperiall heaven,
Moov'd me to manage armes against thy state.
What better president than mightie Jove?
Nature that fram'd us of foure Elements,
Warring within our breasts for regiment,
Doth teach us all to have aspyring minds:
Our soules, whose faculties can comprehend
The wondrous Architecture of the world:
And measure every wandring plannets course:
Still climing after knowledge infinite,
And alwaies mooving as the restles Spheares,
Wils us to weare our selves and never rest,
Untill we reach the ripest fruit of all,
That perfect blisse and sole felicitie,
The sweet fruition of an earthly crowne.

And that made me to joine with Tamburlain,
For he is grosse and like the massie earth,
That mooves not upwards, nor by princely deeds
Doth meane to soare above the highest sort.

And that made us, the friends of Tamburlaine,
To lift our swords against the Persean King.

For as when Jove did thrust old Saturn down,
Neptune and Dis gain'd each of them a Crowne,
So do we hope to reign in Asia,
If Tamburlain be plac'd in Persea.

The strangest men that ever nature made,
I know not how to take their tyrannies.
My bloodlesse body waxeth chill and colde,
And with my blood my life slides through my wound,
My soule begins to take her flight to hell:
And sommons all my sences to depart.
The heat and moisture which did feed each other,
For want of nourishment to feed them both,
Is drie and cold, and now dooth gastly death
With greedy tallents gripe my bleeding hart,
And like a Harpyr tires on my life.
Theridamas and Tamburlaine, I die,
And fearefull vengeance light upon you both.
He takes the Crowne and puts it on.

Not all the curses which the furies breathe,
Shall make me leave so rich a prize as this:
Theridamas, Techelles, and the rest,
Who thinke you now is king of Persea?

Tamburlaine, Tamburlaine.

Though Mars himselfe the angrie God of armes,
And all the earthly Potentates conspire,
To dispossesse me of this Diadem:
Yet will I weare it in despight of them,
As great commander of this Easterne world,
If you but say that Tamburlaine shall raigne.

Long live Tamburlaine, and raigne in Asia.

So, now it is more surer on my head,
Than if the Gods had held a Parliament:
And all pronounst me king of Persea.

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