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The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Tamburlaine Part 1

Act: 1 Scene: 1

Brother Cosroe, I find my selfe agreev'd,

Yet insufficient to expresse the same:

For it requires a great and thundering speech:

Good brother tell the cause unto my Lords,

I know you have a better wit than I.

Brother, I see your meaning well enough.

And thorough your Planets I perceive you thinke,

I am not wise enough to be a kinge,

But I refer me to my noble men,

That knowe my wit, and can be witnesses:

I might command you to be slaine for this,

Meander, might I not?

I meane it not, but yet I know I might,

Yet live, yea, live, Mycetes wils it so:

Meander, thou my faithfull Counsellor,

Declare the cause of my conceived griefe,

Which is (God knowes) about that Tamburlaine ,

That like a Foxe in midst of harvest time,

Dooth pray uppon my flockes of Passengers,

And as I heare, doth meane to pull my plumes.

Therefore tis good and meete for to be wise.

Ful true thou speakst, and like thy selfe my lord,

Whom I may tearme a Damon for thy love.

Therefore tis best, if so it lik you all,

To send my thousand horse incontinent,

To apprehend that paltrie Scythian.

How like you this, my honorable Lords?

Is it not a kingly resolution?

Then heare thy charge, valiant Theridamas ,

The chiefest Captaine of Mycetes hoste,

The hope of Persea, and the verie legges

Whereon our state doth leane, as on a staffe,

That holds us up, and foiles our neighbour foes.

Thou shalt be leader of this thousand horse,

Whose foming galle with rage and high disdaine,

Have sworne the death of wicked Tamburlaine.

Go frowning foorth, but come thou smyling home,

As did Sir Paris with the Grecian Dame:

Returne with speed, time passeth swift away,

Our life is fraile, and we may die to day.

Go, stout Theridamas, thy words are swords,

And with thy lookes thou conquerest all thy foes:

I long to see thee backe returne from thence,

That I may view these milk-white steeds of mine,

All loden with the heads of killed men.

And from their knees, even to their hoofes below,

Besmer'd with blood, that makes a dainty show.

Theridamas , farewel ten thousand times.

Ah, Menaphon, why staiest thou thus behind,

When other men prease forward for renowne:

Go Menaphon, go into Scythia,

And foot by foot follow Theridamas.

Unlesse they have a wiser king than you ?

These are his words, Meander set them downe.

Well here I sweare by this my royal seat —

Embost with silke as best beseemes my state,

To be reveng'd for these contemptuous words.

O where is dutie and allegeance now?

Fled to the Caspean or the Ocean maine?

What, shall I call thee brother? No, a foe,

Monster of Nature, shame unto thy stocke,

That dar'st presume thy Soveraigne for to mocke.

Meander come, I am abus'd Meander.