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Sustain a shame of such inexcellence,
To see the devils mount in angels' thrones,
And angels dive into the pools of hell.
And though they think their painful date is out,
And that their power is puissant as Jove's,
Which makes them manage arms against thy state,
Yet make them feel the strength of Tamburlaine,
(Thy instrument and note of majesty,)
Is greater tar than they can thus subdue:
For if he die thy glory is disgrac'd;
Earth droops and says that hell in heaven is plac'd.
Enter TAMBURLAINE, AMYRAS, and PHYSICIAN.

TAMB. What daring god torments my body thus,
And seeks to conquer mighty Tam burlaine ?
Shall sickness prove me now to be a man,
That have been term'd the terror of the world?
Techelles and the rest, come, take your swords,
And threaten him whose hand afflicts

my

soul.
Come, let us march against the pow'rs of Heaven,
And set black streamers in the firmament,
To signify the slaughter of the gods.
Ah, friends, what shall I do? I cannot stand.
Come carry me to war against the gods
That envy

thus the health of Tamburlaine.
Ther. Ah, good my lord, leave these impatient

words, Which add much danger to your malady.

Tamb. Why, shall I sit and languish in this pain ? No, strike the drums, and in revenge of this,' Come, let us charge our spears, and pierce his breast,

Whose shoulders bear the axis of the world,
That, if I perish, heav'n and earth may fade.
Theridamas, haste to the court of Jove,
Will him to send Apollo hither straight,
To cure me, or I'll fetch him down myself.
TECH. Sit still, my gracious lord; this grief will

cease,

And can not last, it is so violent.

TAMB. Not last, Techelles?--No! for I shall die.
See, where my slave, the ugly monster, death,
Shaking and quiv'ring, pale and wan for fear,
Stands aiming at me with his murdʼring dart,
Who flies away at ev'ry glance I give,
And, when I look away, comes stealing on.
Villain, away, and hie thee to the field!
I and mine army come to load thy back
With souls of thousand mangled carcases.

Look, where he goes; but see, he comes again,
Because I stay: Techelles, let us march.

And weary death with bearing souls to hell.

PHY. Pleaseth your majesty to drink this potion, Which will abate the fury of your fit,

And cause some milder spirits govern you.
TAMB. Tell me what think you of my

now?

sickness

PHY. I view'd your urine, and the hypostasis Thick and obscure, doth make your danger great;

Your veins are full of accidental heat,

Whereby the moisture of your blood is dried.

The humidum and calor, which some hold

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Are not a parcel of the elements,
But of a substance more divine and pure,
Are almost clean extinguished and spent;
Which, being the cause of life, imports your death.
Besides, my lord, this day is critical,
Dang'rous to those whose crisis is as yours ;
Your artiers, which along the veins convey
The lively spirits which thy heart engenders,
Are parch'd and void of spirit, that the soul,
Wanting these organisms by which it moves,
Can not endure, by argument of art.
Yet, if your majesty may 'scape this day,
No doubt but you shall soon recover all.

TAMB. Then will I comfort all my vital parts,
And live, in spite of death, above a day.

[Alarums within Enter MESSENGER. Mes. My lord, young Callapine, that lately fled from your majesty, hath now gathered a fresh army, and hearing your absence in the field, offers to set upon us presently. TAMB. See, my physicians now, how Jove hath

sent A present medicine to recure my pain, My looks shall make them fly, and might I follow, There should not one of all the villain's

power Live to give offer of another fight.

Usum. I joy, my lord, your highness is so strong, That can endure so well your royal presence, Which only will dismay the enemy.

slaves;

TAMB. I know it will, Casane. Draw, you In spite of death, I will go shew my face.

[Alarums.-Tamburlaine goes out, and comes in with the rest.

TAMB. Thus are the villain cowards fled for faar,
Like summer vapours vanish'd by the sun;
And could I but awhile pursue the field,
That Callapine should be my slave again.
But I perceive my martial strength is spent.
In vain I strive and rail against those pow'rs,
That mean t'invest me in a higher throne,
As much too high for this disdainful earth.
Give me a map; then let me see how much
Is left for me to conquer all the world,
That these, my boys, may finish all my wants.
[One brings a map.

Here I began to march tow'rds Persia,
Along Armenia and the Caspian Sea,
And thence to Bithynia, where I took
The Turk and his great empress prisoners.
Thence march'd I into Egypt and Arabia,
And here, not far from Alexandria,
Whereas the Tyrrhene and the Red Sea meet,
Being distant less than full a hundred leagues,
"I meant to cut a channel to them both,
That men might quickly sail to India,
From thence to Nubia near Borno lake,
And so along the Ethiopian sea,
Cutting the Tropic line of Capricorn,
I conquer'd all as far as Zanzibar.

Then, by the northern part of Africa,
I came at last to Grecia, and from thence
To Asia, where I stay against my will,
Which is from Scythia, where I first began,
Backwards and forwards near five thousand leagues.
Look here, my boys; see what a world of ground
Lies westward from the midst of Cancer's line,
Unto the rising of the earthly globe;
Whereas the sun, declining from our sight,
Begins the day with our Antipodes.
And shall I die, and this unconquered?
Lo, here, my sons, are all the golden mines,
Inestimable drugs and precious stones,
More worth than Asia and the world beside;
And from the Antarctick Pole eastward behold
As much more land, which never was descried,
Wherein are rocks of pearl that shine as bright
As all the lamps that beautify the sky;
And shall I die, and this unconquered?
Here, lovely boys; what death forbids my life,
That let your lives command in spite of death
Amy. Alas, my lord, how should our bleeding

hearts Wounded and broken with your highness' grief, Retain a thought of joy or spark of life. Your soul gives essence to our wretched subjects, Whose matter is incorp'rate in your flesh. Cel. Your pains do pierce our souls; no hope survives,

12

VOL. I.

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