Tamburlaine the Great — Part 1

SCENE III.

          Enter SOLDAN, KING OF ARABIA,  CAPOLIN, and SOLDIERS,
          with streaming colours.

     SOLDAN. Methinks we march as Meleager did,
     Environed with brave Argolian knights,
     To chase the savage Calydonian  boar,
     Or Cephalus, with lusty  Theban youths,
     Against the wolf that angry Themis sent
     To waste and spoil the sweet Aonian fields.
     A monster of five hundred thousand heads,
     Compact of rapine, piracy, and spoil,
     The scum of men, the hate and scourge of God,
     Raves in Aegyptia, and annoyeth us:
     My lord, it is the bloody Tamburlaine,
     A sturdy felon, and  a base-bred thief,
     By murder raised to the Persian crown,
     That dare control us in our territories.
     To tame the pride of this presumptuous beast,
     Join your Arabians with the Soldan's power;
     Let us unite our royal bands in one,
     And hasten to remove Damascus' siege.
     It is a blemish to the majesty
     And high estate of mighty emperors,
     That such a base usurping vagabond
     Should brave a king, or wear a princely crown.

     KING OF ARABIA. Renowmed  Soldan, have you lately heard
     The overthrow of mighty Bajazeth
     About the confines of Bithynia?
     The slavery wherewith he persecutes
     The noble Turk and his great emperess?

     SOLDAN. I have, and sorrow for his bad success;
     But, noble lord of great Arabia,
     Be so persuaded that the Soldan is
     No more dismay'd with tidings of his fall,
     Than in the haven when the pilot stands,
     And views a stranger's ship rent in the winds,
     And shivered against a craggy rock:
     Yet in compassion to 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  hour,
     Wherein he wrought such ignominious wrong
     Unto the hallow'd person of a prince,
     Or kept the fair Zenocrate so long,
     As concubine, I fear, to feed his lust.

     KING OF ARABIA. Let grief and fury hasten on revenge;
     Let Tamburlaine for his offences feel
     Such plagues as heaven and we can pour on him:
     I long to break my spear upon his crest,
     And prove the weight of his victorious arm;
     For fame, I fear, hath been too prodigal
     In sounding through the world his partial praise.

     SOLDAN. Capolin, hast thou survey'd our powers?

     CAPOLIN. Great emperors of Egypt and Arabia,
     The number of your hosts united is,
     A hundred and fifty thousand horse,
     Two hundred thousand foot, brave men-at-arms,
     Courageous and  full of hardiness,
     As frolic as the hunters in the chase
     Of savage beasts amid the desert woods.

     KING OF ARABIA. My mind presageth fortunate success;
     And, Tamburlaine, my spirit doth foresee
     The utter ruin of thy men and thee.

     SOLDAN. Then rear your standards; let your sounding drums
     Direct our soldiers to Damascus' walls.—
     Now, Tamburlaine, the mighty Soldan comes,
     And leads with him the great Arabian king,
     To dim thy baseness and  obscurity,
     Famous for nothing but for theft and spoil;
     To raze and scatter thy inglorious crew
     Of Scythians and slavish Persians.

          [Exeunt.]