Shall pay a yearly tribute to thy sire:
And from the bounds of Afric to the banks
Of Ganges shall his mighty arm extend.
And now, my lords and loving followers,
That purchased kingdoms by your martial
deeds,

Cast off your armour, put on scarlet robes,
Mount up your royal places of estate,
Environed with troons of noblemen,

And there make laws to rule your provinces.
Hang up your weapons on Alcides' posts,
For Tamburlaine takes truce with all the
world.

Thy first-betrothed love, Arabia,
Shall we with honour, as beseems, entomb
With this great Turk and his fair Emperess.
Then, after all these solemn exequies,
We will our rites of marriage solemnize.

ACT THE FIRST.

SCENE I. Orcanes, King of Natolia, Gazellus, Viceroy of Byron, Uribassa, and their Train, with drums and trumpets.

Orc. Egregious viceroys of these eastern
parts,

Placed by the issue of great Bajazet,
And sacred lord, the mighty Callapine,
Who lives in Egypt, prisoner to that slave
Which kept his father in an iron cage;-
Now have we marched from fair Natolia
Two hundred leagues, and on Danubius'
banks

Our warlike host, in complete armour, rest,
Where Sigismund, the king of Hungary
Should meet our person to conclude a truce.

What! Shall we parle with the Christian? Or cross the stream, and meet him in the field?

Gaz. King of Natolia, let us treat of peace;

We all are glutted with the Christians' blood, | And have a greater foe to fight against,Proud Tamburlaine, that, now in Asia, Near Guyron's head doth set his conq'ring feet,

And means to fire Turkey as he goes. 'Gainst him, my lord, you must address your power.

Uri. Besides, King Sigismund hath brought from Christendom, More than his camp of stout Hungarians,Sclavonians, Almains, Rutters, Muffes, and Danes,

and wide,

As doth the desert of Arabia

To those that stand on Bagdad's lofty tower; Or as the ocean, to the traveller

That rests upon the snowy Apennines; And tell me whether I should stoop so low, As treat of peace with the Natolian king.

Gaz. Kings of Natolia and of Hungary, We came from Turkey to confirm a league, And not to dare each other to the field. A friendly parle might become you both. Fred. And we from Europe, to the same intent,

Which if your general refuse or scorn, Our tents are pitched, our men stand in array,

Ready to charge you ere you stir your feet.

Ori. So prest are we; but yet, if Sigismund

Speak as a friend, and stand not upon terms,
Here is his sword,-let peace be ratified
On these conditions, specified before,
Drawn with advice of our ambassadors.

Sig. Then here I sheathe it, and give thee my hand,

Never to draw it out, or manage arms
Against thyself or thy confederates,
But whilst I live will be at truce with thee.
Orc. But, Sigismund, confirm it with an
oath,

And swear in sight of heaven and by thy
Christ.

Sig. By him that made the world and saved my soul,

The Son of God and issue of a maid,
Sweet Jesus Christ, I solemnly protest
And vow to keep this peace inviolable.

Orc. By sacred Mahomet, the friend of
God,

Whose holy Alcoran remains with us, Whose glorious body, when he left the world,

Closed in a coffin mounted up the air, And hung on stately Mecca's temple-roof, I swear to keep this truce inviolable;

Of whose conditions and our solemn oaths, Signed with our hands, each shall retain a scroll

As memorable witness of our league.
Now Sigismund, if any Christian king
Encroach upon the confines of thy realm,
Send word, Orcanes of Natolia

Confirmed this league beyond Danubius' stream,

And they will, trembling, sound a quick retreat;

So am I feared among all nations.

Sig. If any heathen potentate or king

A hundred thousand horse trained to the war,

And backed by stout lanciers of Germany, The strength and sinews of the Imperial seat.

Orc. I thank thee, Sigismund; but, when I war,

All Asia Minor, Africa, and Greece,
Follow my standard and my thundering
drums.

Come, let us go and banquet in our tents;
I will despatch chief of my army hence
To fair Natolia and to Trebizon,

To stay my coming 'gainst proud Tamburlaine.

Friend Sigismund, and peers of Hungary, Come, banquet and carouse with us a while, And then depart we to our territories.

SCENE II.

[Excunt.

Call. Sweet Almeda, pity the ruthful plight

Of Callapine, the son of Bajazet,

Born to be monarch of the western world, Yet here detained by cruel Tamburlaine.

Alm. My lord, I pity it, and with all my heart

Wish your release; but he whose wrath is death,

My sovereign lord, renowned Tamburlaine, Forbids you farther liberty than this.

Call. Ah, were I now but half so eloquent To paint in words what I'll perform in deeds, I know thou would'st depart from hence with me.

Alm. Not for all Afric: therefore move me not.

Call. Yet hear me speak, my gentle Almeda.

Alm. No speech to that end, by your favour, sir.

Call. By Cairo runs

Alm. No talk of running, I tell you, sir. Call. A little farther, gentle Almeda. Alm. Well, sir, what of this?

Call. By Cairo runs to Alexandria bay Darote's streams, wherein at anchor lies A Turkish galley of my royal fleet, Waiting my coming to the river side, Hoping by some means I shall be released, Which, when I come aboard, will hoist up sail,

And soon put forth into the Terrene sea, Where, 'twixt the isles of Cyprus and of Crete,

We quickly may in Turkish seas arrive. Then shalt thou see a hundred kings and more,

Upon their knees, all bid me welcome home. Amongst so many crowns of burnished gold, Choose which thou wilt, all are at thy command;

A thousand galleys, manned with Christian slaves,

I freely give thee, which shall cut the straits,
And bring armados from the coasts of Spain
Fraughted with gold of rich America;
The Grecian virgins shall attend on thee,
Skilful in music and in amorous lays,
As fair as was Pygmalion's ivory girl
Or lovely Io metamorphosed.

With naked negroes shall thy coach be drawn,

And as thou rid'st in triumph through the

streets

The pavement underneath thy chariot wheels

With Turkey carpets shall be covered,

And cloth of Arras hung about the walls,
Fit objects for thy princely eye to pierce.
A hundred bassoes, clothed in crimson silk,
Shall ride before thee on Barbarian steeds;
And when thou goest, a golden canopy
Enchased with precious stones, which shine
as bright

As that fair veil that covers all the world, When Phoebus, leaping from the hemisphere,

Descendeth downward to the Antipodes,And more than this-for all I cannot tell. Alm. How far hence lies the galley, say you?

Call. Sweet Almeda, scarce half a league from hence.

Alm. But need we not be spied going aboard?

Call. Betwixt the hollow hanging of a hill,

And crooked bending of a craggy rock, The sails wrapt up, the mast and tacklings down,

She lies so close that none can find her out. Alm. I like that well: but tell me, my lord, if I should let you go, would you be as good as your word? Shall I be made a king for my labour?

Call. As I am Callapine the emperor, And by the hand of Mahomet I swear Thou shalt be crowned a king, and be my

mate.

Alm. Then here I swear, as I am Almeda Your keeper under Tamburlaine the Great, (For that's the style and title I have yet,) Although he sent a thousand armed men

Enter Tamburlaine, with Zenocrate and his three Sons, Calyphas, Amyras, and Celebinus, with Drums and Trumpets. Tamb. Now, bright Zenocrate, the world's fair eye,

Whose beams illuminate the lamps of heaven,

Whose cheerful looks do clear the cloudy air,

And clothe it in a crystal livery;

Now rest thee here on fair Larissa plains, Where Egypt and the Turkish empire part Between thy sons, that shall be emperors, And every one commander of a world.

Zeno. Sweet Tamburlaine, when wilt thou leave these arms,

And save thy sacred person free from scathe, And dangerous chances of the wrathful war? Tamb. When heaven shall cease to move

But yet methinks their looks are amorous, Not martial as the sons of Tamburlaine : Water and air, being symbolized in one, Argue their want of courage and of wit; Their hair as white as milk and soft as down, (Which should be like the quills of porcupines

As black as jet and hard as iron or steel) Bewrays they are too dainty for the wars; Their fingers made to quaver on a lute, Their arms to hang about a lady's neck, Would make me think them bastards not my sons,

But that I know they issued from thy womb

D