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Act Three, Scene Three

[Enter] Techelles, Theridamas and their traine.

Thus have wee martcht Northwarde from Tamburlaine,
Unto the frontier point of Soria:
And this is Balsera their chiefest hold,
Wherein is all the treasure of the land.

Then let us bring our light Artilery,
Minions, Fauknets, and Sakars to the trench,
Filling the ditches with the walles wide breach,
And enter in, to seaze upon the gold:
How say ye Souldiers, Shal we not?

Yes, my Lord, yes, come lets about it.

But stay a while, summon a parle, Drum,
It may be they will yeeld it quietly,
Knowing two kings, the friends to Tamburlain,
Stand at the walles, with such a mighty power.
Summon the battell.
[Enter above] Captaine with his wife [Olympia] and sonne.

What requier you my maisters?

Captaine, that thou yeeld up thy hold to us.

To you? Why, do you thinke me weary of it?

Nay Captain, thou art weary of thy life,
If thou withstand the friends of Tamburlain.

These Pioners of Argier in Affrica,
Even in the cannons face shall raise a hill
Of earth and fagots higher than thy Fort,
And over thy Argins and covered waies
Shal play upon the bulwarks of thy hold
Volleies of ordinance til the breach be made,
That with his wine fils up all the trench.
And when we enter in, not heaven it selfe
Shall ransome thee, thy wife and family.

Captaine, these Moores shall cut the leaden pipes,
That bring fresh water to thy men and thee:
And lie in trench before thy castle walles,
That no supply of victuall shall come in,
Nor any issue foorth, but they shall die:
And therefore Captaine, yeeld it quietly.

Were you that are the friends of Tamburlain,
Brothers to holy Mahomet himselfe,
I would not yeeld it: therefore doo your worst.
Raise mounts, batter, intrench, and undermine,
Cut off the water, all convoies that can,
Yet I am resolute, and so farewell.

Pioners away, and where I stuck the stake,
Intrench with those dimensions I prescribed:
Cast up the earth towards the castle wall,
Which til it may defend you, labour low:
And few or none shall perish by their shot.

We will my Lord.

A hundred horse shall scout about the plaines
To spie what force comes to relieve the horde.
Both we (Theridamas) wil intrench our men,
And with the Jacobs staffe measure the height
And distance of the castle from the trench,
That we may know if our artillery
Will carte full point blancke unto their wals.

Then see the bringing of our ordinance
Along the trench into the battery,
Where we will have Gabions of sixe foot broad,
To save our Cannoniers from musket shot,
Betwixt which, shall our ordinance thunder foorth,
And with the breaches fall, smoake, fire, and dust,
The cracke, the Ecchoe and the souldiers crie
Make deafe the aire, and dim the Christall Sky.

Trumpets and drums, alarum presently,
And souldiers play the men, the hold is yours.

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