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Act Four, Scene Three

[Enter] Tamburlaine drawen in his chariot by Trebizon and Soria with bittes in their mouthes, reines in his left hand, in his right hand a whip, with which he scourgeth them, Techelles, Theridamas, Usumcasane, Amyras, Celebinus: [Orcanes king of] Natolia, and Jerusalem led by with five or six common souldiers.

Holla, ye pampered Jades of Asia:
What, can ye draw but twenty miles a day,
And have so proud a chariot at your heeles,
And such a Coachman as great Tamburlaine?
But from Asphaltis, where I conquer'd you,
To Byron here where thus I honor you?
The horse that guide the golden eie of heaven,
And blow the morning from their nosterils,
Making their fiery gate above the cloudes,
Are not so honoured in their Governour,
As you (ye slaves) in mighty Tamburlain.
The headstrong Jades of Thrace, Alcides tam'd,
That King Egeus fed with humaine flesh,
And made so wanton that they knew their strengths,
Were not subdew'd with valour more divine,
Than you by this unconquered arme of mine.
To make you fierce, and fit my appetite,
You shal be fed with flesh as raw as blood,
And drinke in pailes the strongest Muscadell:
If you can live with it, then live, and draw
My chariot swifter than the racking cloudes:
If not, then dy like beasts, and fit for nought
But perches for the black and fatall Ravens.
Thus arn I right the Scourge of highest Jove
And see the figure of my dignitie,
By which I hold my name and majesty.

Let me have coach my Lord, that I may ride,
And thus be drawen with these two idle kings.

Thy youth forbids such ease my kingly boy,
They shall to morrow draw my chariot,
While these their fellow kings may be refresht.

O thou that swaiest the region under earth,
And art a king as absolute as Jove,
Come as thou didst in fruitfull Scicilie,
Survaieng all the glories of the land:
And as thou took'st the faire Proserpina,
Joying the fruit of Ceres garden plot,
For love, for honor, and to make her Queene,
So for just hate, for shame, and to subdew
This proud contemner of thy dreadfull power,
Come once in furie and survey his pride,
Haling him headlong to the lowest hell.

Your Majesty must get some byts for these,
To bridle their contemptuous cursing tongues,
That like unruly never broken Jades,
Breake through the hedges of their hateful mouthes,
And passe their fixed bounces exceedingly.

Nay, we wil break the hedges of their mouths
And pul their kicking colts out of their pastures.

Your Majesty already hath devisde
A meane, as fit as may be to restraine
These coltish coach-horse tongues from blasphemy.

How like you that sir king? why speak you not?

Ah cruel Brat, sprung from a tyrants loines,
How like his cursed father he begins,
To practize tauntes and bitter tyrannies?

I Turke, I tel thee, this same Boy is he,
That must (advaunst in higher pompe than this)
Rifle the kingdomes I shall leave unsackt,
If Jove esteeming me too good for earth,
Raise me to match the faire Aldeboran,
Above the threefold Astracisme of heaven,
Before I conquere all the triple world.
Now fetch me out the Turkish Concubines,
I will prefer them for the funerall
They have bestowed on my abortive sonnet
The Concubines are brought in.
Where are my common souldiers now that fought
So Lion-like upon Asphaltis plaines?

Here my Lord.

Hold ye tal souldiers, take ye Queens apeece
(I meane such Queens as were kings Concubines)
Take them, devide them and their jewels too,
And let them equally serve all your turnes.

We thank your majesty.

Brawle not (I warne you) for your lechery,
For every man that so offends shall die.

Injurious tyrant, wilt thou so defame
The hatefull fortunes of thy victory,
To exercise upon such guiltlesse Dames,
The violence of thy common Souldiours lust?

Live continent then (ye slaves) and meet not me
With troopes of harlots at your sloothful heeles.

O pity us my Lord, and save our honours.

Are ye not gone ye villaines with your spoiles?
They run away with the Ladies.

O mercilesse infernall cruelty.

Save your honours? twere but time indeed,
Lost long before you knew what honour meant.

It seemes they meant to conquer us my Lord,
And make us jeasting Pageants for their Trulles.

And now themselves shal make our Pageant,
And common souldiers jest with all their Truls.
Let them take pleasure soundly in their spoiles,
Till we prepare our martch to Babylon,
Whether we next make expedition.

Let us not be idle then my Lord,
But presently be press to conquer it.

We wil Techelles, forward then ye Jades:
Now crowch ye kings of greatest Asia,
And tremble when ye heare this Scourge wil come,
That whips downe cities, and controwleth crownes,
Adding their wealth and treasure to my store.
The Euxine sea North to Natolia,
The Terrene west, the Caspian north north-east,
And on the south Senus Arabicus,
Shal al be loden with the martiall spoiles
We will convey with us to Persea.
Then shal my native city Samarcanda
And christall waves of fresh Jaertis streame,
The pride and beautie of her princely seat,
Be famous through the furthest continents,
For there my Pallace royal shal be plac'd:
Whose shyning Turrets shal dismay the heavens,
And cast the fame of Ilions Tower to hell.
Thorow the streets with troops of conquered kings,
Ile ride in golden armour like the Sun,
And in my helme a triple plume shal spring,
Spangled with Diamonds dancing in the aire,
To note me Emperour of the three fold world:
Like to an almond tree ymounted high,
Upon the lofty and celestiall mount,
Of ever greene Selinus queintly dect
With bloomes more white than Hericinas browes,
Whose tender blossoms tremble every one,
At every little breath that thorow heaven is blowen:
Then in my coach like Saturnes royal son,
Mounted his shining chariot, gilt with fire,
And drawen with princely Eagles through the path,
Pav'd with bright Christall, and enchac'd with starres,
When all the Gods stand gazing at his pomp:
So will I ride through Samarcanda streets,
Until my soule dissevered from this flesh,
Shall mount the milk-white way and meet him there.
To Babylon my Lords, to Babylon.

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