To spy what force comes to relieve the hold.
Both we, Theridamas, will intrench our men,
And with the Jacob's staff measure the height
And distance of the castle from the trench,
That we may know if our artillery
Will carry full point blank into their castle.

Ther. Then see the bringing of our ordinance
Along the trench into the battery,'
Where we will have gallions of six foot broad,
To save our cannoniers from musket shot.
Betwixt which shall our ordnance thunder forth,
And with the breach's fall, smoke, tire, and dust,
The crack, the echo, and the soldier's cry,
Make deaf the air and dim the chrystal sky.

Tech. Trumpets and drums, alarum presently; And, soldiers, play the men; the hold is yours !

[Ereunt. Alarums. Re-enter the CAPTAIN, with OLYMPIA,

and his Son. Olym. 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 conquer'd hold.

Capt. A deadly bullet, gliding through my side, Lies heavy at my heart; I cannot live. I feel my liver pierc'd, and all my veins, That there begin and nourish every part, Mangled and torn, and all my entrails bath'd In blood that straineth from their orifice.

Farewell, sweet wife ! sweet son, farewell! I die!

[He dies. OLYM. Death, whither art thou gone, that both

we live? Come back again, sweet Death, and strike us both! One minute end our days! and one sepulchre Contain our bodies ! Death, why com’st thou not? Well, this must be the messenger for thee: Now, ugly Death, stretch out thy sable wings, And carry both our souls where his remains. Tell me, sweet boy, art thou content to die? These barb'rous Scythians, full of cruelty, And Moors, in whom was never pity found, Will hew us piecemeal, put us to the wheel, And else invent some torture worse than that; Therefore die by thy loving mother's hand, Who gently now will lance thy iv'ry throat, And quickly rid thee both of pain and life.

Son. Mother despatch me, or I'll kill myself; For think you I can live and see him dead ? Give me your knife, good mother, or strike home: The Scythians shall not tyrannize on me. Sweet mother, strike, that I may see my father.

[She stabs him, and he dies. OLYM. Ah, sacred Mahomet, if this be sin, Entreat a pardon of the God of heaven, And purge my soul before it come to thee. [She burns the bodies of her husband und son, and

then attempts to kill herself.

Enter THERIDAMAS, TECHELLES, and all their Train.

THER. How now, madam, what are you doing?
OLYM. Killing myself, as I have done my son,
Whose body, with his father's, I have burnt,
Lest cruel Scythians should dismember him.
TECH. 'Twas bravely done, and, like a soldier's
wife.

Thou shalt with us to Tamburlaine the Great,
Who, when he hears how resolute thou art,
Will match thee with a viceroy or a king.
OLYм. My lord deceas'd was dearer unto me
Than any viceroy, king, or emperor;
And for his sake here will I end my days.

THER. But, lady, go with us to Tamburlaine,
And thou shalt see a man, greater than Mahomet,
In whose high looks is much more majesty,
Than from the concave superficies

Of Jove's vast palace, the empyreal orb,
Unto the shining bow'r where Cynthia sits,
Like lovely Thetis, in a chrystal robe;
That treadeth Fortune underneath his feet,
And makes the mighty god of arms his slave;
On whom Death and the Fatal sisters wait
With naked swords and scarlet liveries:
Before whom, mounted on a lion's back,
Rhamnusia bears a helmet full of blood,

And strews the way with brains of slaughter'd men ;
By whose proud side the ugly furies run,

Heark'ning when he shall bid them plague the world;
Over whose zenith, cloth'd in windy air,

And eagle's wings join'd to her feather'd breast,
Fame hov'reth, sounding of her golden trump,
That to the adverse poles of that straight line,
Which measureth the glorious frame of heaven,
The name of mighty Tamburlaine is spread,
And him, fair lady, shall thine eyes behold. Come!
OLYM. Take pity of a lady's ruthful tears,
That humbly craves upon her knees to stay
And cast her body in the burning flame,
That feeds upon her son's and husband's flesh.

TECH. Madam, sooner shall fire consume us both, Than scorch a face so beautiful as this,

In frame of which Nature hath show'd more skill
Than when she gave eternal chaos form,

Drawing from it the shining lamps of heaven.
THER. Madam, I am so far in love with you,
That you must go with us no remedy.

OLYM. Then carry me, I care not, where you will, And let the end of this my fatal journey

Be likewise end to my accursed life.

TECH. No, madam, but the beginning of your joy:

Come willingly therefore.

THER. Soldiers, now let us meet the general, Who by this time is at Natolia,

Ready to charge the army of the Turk.

The gold and silver, and the pearl, ye got,

Rifling this fort, divide in equal shares:
This lady shall have twice so much again
Out of the coffers of our treasury.

SCENE IV.

[Exeunt.

Enter CALLAPINE, ORCANES, ALMEDA, and the
KINGS of JERUSALEM, TREBIZOND and SYRIA,
with their Trains. To them enter a MESSENGER,
MES. Renowned emperor, mighty Callapine,
God's great lieutenant over half the world!
Here at Aleppo, with a host of men,
Lies Tamburlaine, this King of Persia,

(In numbers more than are the quiv'ring leaves
Of Ida's forest, where your highness' hounds,
With open cry, pursue the wounded stag,)
Who means to girt Natolia's walls with siege,
Fire the town, and overrun the land.

CALL. My royal army is as great as his,
That, from the bounds of Phrygia to the sea
Which washeth Cyprus with his brinish waves,
Covers the hills, the vallies, and the plains.
Viceroys and peers of Turkey, play the men!
Whet all your swords, to mangle Tamburlaine,
His sons, his captains, and his followers;
By Mahomet! not one of them shall live;
The field wherein this battle shall be fought
For ever term the Persians' sepulchre,

In

memory of this our victory!

ORC. Now, he that calls himself the scourge of