Act 2, Scene 4To 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.
What, fearful coward, stragling from the camp
When Kings themselves are present in the field?
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.