OF ARABIA. What cursed power guides the murdering hands Of this infamous tyrant's soldiers, That no escape may save their enemies, Nor fortune keep themselves from victory? Lie down, Arabia, wounded to the death, And let Zenocrate's fair eyes behold, That, as for her thou bear'st these wretched arms, Even so for her thou diest in these arms, Leaving thy 300 blood for witness of thy love. ZENOCRATE. Too dear a witness for such love, my lord! Behold Zenocrate, the cursed object Whose fortunes never mastered her griefs; Behold her wounded in conceit 301 for thee, As much as thy fair body is for me! KING OF ARABIA. Then shall I die with full contented heart, Having beheld divine Zenocrate, Whose sight with joy would take away my life As now it bringeth sweetness to my wound, If I had not been wounded as I am. Ah, that the deadly pangs I suffer now Would lend an hour's licence to my tongue, To make discourse of some sweet accidents Have chanc'd thy merits in this worthless bondage, And that I might be privy to the state Of thy deserv'd contentment and thy love! But, making now a virtue of thy sight, To drive all sorrow from my fainting soul, Since death denies me further cause of joy, Depriv'd of care, my heart with comfort dies, Since thy desired hand shall close mine eyes. [Dies.] Re-enter TAMBURLAINE, leading the SOLDAN; TECHELLES, THERIDAMAS, USUMCASANE, with others. TAMBURLAINE. Come, happy father of Zenocrate, A title higher than thy Soldan's name. Though my right hand have 302 thus enthralled thee, Thy princely daughter here shall set thee free; She that hath calm'd the fury of my sword, Which had ere this been bath'd in streams of blood As vast and deep as Euphrates 303 or Nile. ZENOCRATE. O sight thrice-welcome to my joyful soul, To see the king, my father, issue safe From dangerous battle of my conquering love! SOLDAN. Well met, my only dear Zenocrate, Though with the loss of Egypt and my crown! TAMBURLAINE. 'Twas I, my lord, that gat the victory; And therefore grieve not at your overthrow, Since I shall render all into your hands, And add more strength to your dominions Than ever yet confirm'd th' Egyptian crown. The god of war resigns his room to me, Meaning to make me general of the world: Jove, viewing me in arms, looks pale and wan, Fearing my power should 304 pull him from his throne: Where'er I come the Fatal Sisters sweat, 305 And grisly Death, by running to and fro, To do their ceaseless homage to my sword: And here in Afric, where it
Prev.
Back
Top