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The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Tamburlaine Part 1

Act: 4 Scene: 1

Awake ye men of Memphis, heare the clange

Of Scythian trumpets, heare the Basiliskes,

That roaring, shake Damascus turrets downe.

The rogue of Volge holds Zenocrate,

The Souldans daughter for his Concubine,

And with a troope of theeves and vagabondes,

Hath spread his collours to our high disgrace:

While you faint-hearted base Egyptians,

Lie slumbering on the flowrie bankes of Nile,

As Crocodiles that unaffrighted rest,

While thundring Cannons rattle on their Skins.

Villain, I tell thee, were that Tamburlaine

As monstrous as Gorgon , prince of Hell,

The Souldane would not start a foot from him.

But speake, what power hath he?

Nay could their numbers countervail the stars,

Or ever drilling drops of Aprill showers,

Or withered leaves that Autume shaketh downe:

Yet would the Souldane by his conquering power,

So scatter and consume them in his rage,

That not a man should live to rue their fall.

Let him take all th'advantages he can,

Were all the world conspird to fight for him,

Nay, were he Devill, as he is no man,

Yet in revenge of faire Zenocrate,

Whom he detaineth in despight of us,

This arme should send him downe to Erebus ,

To shroud his shame in darknes of the night.

Mercilesse villaine, Pesant ignorant,

Of lawfull armes, or martiall discipline:

Pillage and murder are his usuall trades.

The slave usurps the glorious name of war.

See Capolin , the faire Arabian king

That hath bene disapointed by this slave,

Of my faire daughter, and his princely Love:

May have fresh warning to go war with us,

And be reveng'd for her disparadgement.