must give arms. 176 ORCANES. So he shall, and wear thy head in his scutcheon. TAMBURLAINE. No; 177 let him hang a bunch of keys on his standard, to put him in remembrance he was a jailor, that, when I take him, I may knock out his brains with them, and lock you in the stable, when you shall come sweating from my chariot. KING OF TREBIZON. Away! let us to the field, that the villain may be slain. TAMBURLAINE. Sirrah, prepare whips, and bring my chariot to my tent; for, as soon as the battle is done, I'll ride in triumph through the camp. Enter THERIDAMAS, TECHELLES, and their train. How now, ye petty kings? lo, here are bugs 178 Will make the hair stand upright on your heads, And cast your crowns in slavery at their feet!—      Welcome, Theridamas and Techelles, both:      See ye this rout, 179 and know ye this same king? THERIDAMAS. Ay, my lord; he was Callapine's keeper. TAMBURLAINE. Well, now ye see he is a king. Look to him, Theridamas, when we are fighting, lest he hide his crown as the foolish king of Persia did. 180 KING OF SORIA. No, Tamburlaine; he shall not be put to that exigent, I warrant thee. TAMBURLAINE. You know not, sir.—      But now, my followers and my loving friends, Fight as you ever did, like conquerors, The glory of this happy day is yours. My stern aspect 181 shall make fair Victory, Hovering betwixt our armies, light on me, Loaden with laurel-wreaths to crown us all. TECHELLES. I smile to think how, when this field is fought And rich Natolia ours, our men shall sweat With carrying pearl and treasure on their backs. TAMBURLAINE. You shall be princes all, immediately.—      Come, fight, ye Turks, or yield us victory. ORCANES. No; we will meet thee, slavish Tamburlaine.           [Exeunt severally.] 

  

       ACT IV.     

  

       SCENE I.     

           Alarms within. AMYRAS and CELEBINUS issue from the tent where CALYPHAS sits asleep. 182 AMYRAS. Now in their glories shine the golden crowns Of these proud Turks, much like so many suns That half dismay the majesty of heaven. Now, brother, follow we our father's sword, That flies with fury swifter than our thoughts, And cuts down armies with his conquering wings. CELEBINUS. Call forth our lazy brother from the tent, For, if my father miss him in the field, Wrath, kindled in the furnace of his breast,     

 Prev. P 31/89 next