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.