Act Three, Scene FourEnter [below] the Captaine with [Olympia] his wife and sonne.
Come good my Lord, and let us haste from hence
Along the cave that leads beyond the foe,
No hope is left to save this conquered hold.
A deadly bullet gliding through my side,
Lies heavy on my heart, I cannot live.
I feele my liver pierc'd and all my vaines,
That there begin and nourish every part,
Mangled and tome, and all my entrals bath'd
In blood that straineth from their orifex.
Farewell sweet wife, sweet son farewell, I die.
Death, whether art thou gone that both we live?
Come back again (sweet death) and strike us both:
One minute end our daies, and one sepulcher
Containe our bodies: death, why comm'st thou not?
Wel, this must be the messenger for thee. [Dagger.]
Now ugly death stretch out thy Sable wings,
And carte both our soules, where his remaines.
Tell me sweet boie, art thou content to die?
These barbarous Scythians full of cruelty,
And Moores, in whom was never pitie found,
Will hew us peecemeale, put us to the wheele,
Or els invent some torture worse than that.
Therefore die by thy loving mothers hand,
Who gently now wil lance thy Ivory throat,
And quickly rid thee both of paine and life.
Mother dispatch me, or Ile kil my selfe,
For think ye I can live, and see him dead?
Give me your knife (good mother) or strike home:
The Scythians shall not tyrannise on me.
Sweet mother strike, that I may meet my father.
She stabs him.
Ah sacred Mahomet, if this be sin,
Intreat a pardon of the God of heaven,
And purge my soule before it come to thee.
[Burns the bodies.]
Enter Theridamas, Techelles and all their traine.
How now Madam, what are you doing?
Killing my selfe, as I have done my sonne,
Whose body with his fathers I have burnt,
Least quell Scythians should dismember him.
Twas bravely done, and like a souldiers wife.
Thou shalt with us to Tamburlaine the great,
Who when he heares how resolute thou wert,
Wil match thee with a viceroy or a king.
My Lord deceast, was dearer unto me,
Than any Viceroy, King or Emperour.
And for his sake here will I end my daies.
But Lady goe with us to Tamburlaine,
And thou shalt see a man greater than Mahomet,
In whose high lookes is much more majesty
Than from the Concave superficies,
Of Joves vast pallace the imperiall Orbe,
Unto the shining bower where Cynthia sits,
Like lovely Thetis in a Christall robe:
That treadeth Fortune underneath his feete,
And makes the mighty God of armes his slave:
On whom death and the fatall sisters waite,
With naked swords and scarlet liveries:
Before whom (mounted on a Lions backe)
Rhamnusia beares a helmet ful of blood,
And strowes the way with braines of slaughtered men:
By whose proud side the ugly furies run,
Harkening when he shall bid them plague the world.
Over whose Zenith cloth'd in windy aire,
And Eagles wings join'd to her feathered breast,
Fame hovereth, sounding of her golden Trumpe:
That to the adverse poles of that straight line,
Which measureth the glorious frame of heaven,
The name of mightie Tamburlain is spread:
And him faire Lady shall thy eies behold.
Take pitie of a Ladies ruthfull teares,
That humbly craves upon her knees to stay,
And cast her bodie in the burning flame,
That feeds upon her sonnes and husbands flesh.
Madam, sooner shall fire consume us both,
Then scortch a face so beautiful as this,
In frame of which, Nature hath shewed more skill,
Than when she gave eternall Chaos forme,
Drawing from it the shining Lamps of heaven.
Madam, I am so far in love with you,
That you must goe with us, no remedy.
Then carie me I care not where you will,
And let the end of this my fatall journey,
Be likewise end to my accursed life.
No Madam, but the beginning of your joy,
Come willinglie, therfore.
Souldiers now let us meet the Generall,
Who by this time is at Natolie,
Ready to charge the army of the Turke.
The gold, the silver, and the pearle ye got,
Rifling this Fort, device in equall shares:
This Lady shall have twice so much againe,
Out of the coffers of our treasurie.