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Act 4, Scene 3

[Enter] Souldane, Arabia, Capoline, with streaming collors and Souldiers

Me thinks we martch as Meliager did,
Environed with brave Argolian knightes,
To chace the savage Calidonian Boare:
Or Cephalus with lustie Thebane youths,
Against the Woolfe that angrie Themis sent,
To waste and spoile the sweet Aonian fieldes.
A monster of five hundred thousand heades,
Compact of Rapine, Pyracie, and spoile,
The Scum of men, the hate and Scourge of God,
Raves in Egyptia, and annoyeth us.
My Lord it is the bloody Tamburlaine,
A sturdy Felon and a base-bred Thiefe,
By murder raised to the Persean Crowne,
That dares controll us in our Territories.
To tame the pride of this presumptuous Beast,
Joine your Arabians with the Souldans power:
Let us unite our royall bandes in one,
And hasten to remoove Damascus siege.
It is a blemish to the Majestie
And high estate of mightie Emperours,
That such a base usurping vagabond
Should brave a king, or weare a princely crowne.

Renowmed Souldane, have ye lately heard
The overthrow of mightie Bajazeth,
About the confines of Bythinia?
The slaverie wherewith he persecutes
The noble Turke and his great Emperesse?

I have, and sorrow for his bad successe:
But noble Lord of great Arabia,
Be so perswaded, that the Souldan is
No more dismaide with tidings of his fall,
Than in the haven when the Pilot stands
And viewes a strangers ship rent in the winds,
And shivered against a craggie rocke.
Yet in compassion of his wretched state,
A sacred vow to heaven and him I make,
Confirming it with Ibis holy name,
That Tamburlaine shall rue the day, the hower,
Wherein he wrought such ignominious wrong,
Unto the hallowed person of a prince,
Or kept the faire Zenocrate so long,
As Concubine I feare to feed his lust.

Let griefe and furie hasten on revenge,
Let Tamburlaine for his offences feele
Such plagues as heaven and we can poure on him.
I long to breake my speare upon his crest,
And proove the weight of his victorious arme:
For Fame I feare hath bene too prodigall,
In sounding through the world his partiall praise.

Capolin, hast thou survaid our powers?

Great Emperours of Egypt and Arabia,
The number of your hostes united is,
A hundred and fifty thousand horse,
Two hundred thousand foot, brave men at armes,
Couragious and full of hardinesse:
As frolike as the hunters in the chace
Of savage beastes amid the desert woods.

My mind presageth fortunate successe,
And Tamburlaine, my spirit doth foresee
The utter ruine of thy men and thee.

Then reare your standardes, let your sounding Drummes
Direct our Souldiers to Damascus walles.
Now Tamburlaine, the mightie Souldane comes,
And leads with him the great
Arabian King ,
To dim thy basenesse and obscurity,
Famous for nothing but for theft and spoile,
To race and scatter thy inglorious crue,
Of Scythians and slavish Persians.

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