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The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Tamburlaine Part 1

Act: 1 Scene: 2

Zenocrate.

Ah Shepheard, pity my distressed plight,

(If as thou seem'st, thou art so meane a man)

And seeke not to inrich thy followers,

By lawlesse rapine from a silly maide.

Who travailing with these Medean Lords

To Memphis, from my uncles country of Medea ,

Where all my youth I have bene governed,

Have past the armie of the mightie Turke:

Bearing his privie signet and his hand:

To safe conduct us thorow Affrica.

Zenocrate

I am (my Lord,) for so you do import.

Zenocrate

The Gods, defenders of the innocent,

Will never prosper your intended driftes,

That thus oppresse poore friendles passengers.

Therefore at least admit us libertie,

Even as thou hop'st to be eternized,

By living Asias mightie Emperour.

Zenocrete

I must be pleasde perforce, wretched Zenocrate.

Act: 3 Scene: 2

Zenocrate

Although it be digested long agoe,

As his exceding favours have deserv'd,

And might content the Queene of heaven as well,

As it hath chang'd my first conceiv'd disdaine.

Yet since a farther passion feeds my thoughts,

With ceaselesse and disconsolate conceits,

Which dies my lookes so livelesse as they are.

And might, if my extreams had full events,

Make me the gastly counterfeit of death.

Zenocrate

Ah, life and soule still hover in his Breast,

And leave my body sencelesse as the earth.

Or els unite you to his life and soule,

That I may live and die with Tamburlaine.

Zenocrate

Agidas, leave to wound me with these words:

And speake of Tamburlaine as he deserves.

The entertainment we have had of him,

Is far from villanie or servitude.

And might in noble minds be counted princely.

Zenocrate

As looks the sun through Nilus flowing stream,

Or when the morning holds him in her armes:

So lookes my Lordly love, faire Tamburlaine .

His talke much sweeter than the Muses song,

They sung for honor gainst Pierides ,

Or when Minerva did with Neptune strive.

And higher would Ireare my estimate,

Than Juno sister to the highest God,

If I were matcht with mightie Tamburlaine.

Zenocrate

Thence rise the tears that so distain my cheeks,

Fearing his love through my unworthynesse.

Act: 3 Scene: 3

Zenocrate

And may my Love, the king of Persea ,

Returne with victorie, and free from wound.

Zenocrate

Disdainful Turkesse and unreverend Bosse,

Cal'st thou me Concubine that am betroath'd

Unto the great and mighty Tamburlaine?

Zenocrate

Thou wilt repent these lavish words of thine,

When thy great Bassoe-maister and thy selfe,

Must plead for mercie at his kingly feet,

And sue to me to be your Advocates.

Zenocrate

Hearst thou Anippe, how thy drudge doth talk,

And how my slave, her mistresse menaceth.

Both for their sausinesse shall be employed,

To dresse the common souldiers meat and drink.

For we will scorne they should come nere our selves.

Zenocrate

Ye Gods and powers that governe Persea,

And made my lordly Love her worthy King:

Now strengthen him against the Turkish Bajazeth,

And let his foes like flockes of fearfull Roes,

Pursude by hunters, flie his angrie lookes,

That I may see him issue Conquerour.

Zenocrate

By this the Turks lie weltring in their blood

And Tamburlaine is Lord of Affrica.

Zenocrate

If Mahomet should come from heaven and sweare,

My royall Lord is slaine or conquered,

Yet should he not perswade me otherwise,

But that he lives and will be Conquerour.

Zenocrate

Now let me offer to my gracious Lord,

His royall Crowne againe, so highly won.

Act: 4 Scene: 2

Zenocrate

She is my Handmaids slave, and she shal looke

That these abuses flow not from her tongue:

Chide her Anippe.

Zenocrate

Yet would you have some pitie for my sake,

Because it is my countries, and my Fathers.

Act: 4 Scene: 4

Zenocrate

My Lord, how can you suffer these outragious curses bythese slaves of yours?

Zenocrate

Yes, my Lord.

Zenocrate

My lord, to see my fathers towne besieg'd,

The countrie wasted where my selfe was borne,

How can it but afflict my verie soule?

If any love remaine in you my Lord,

Or if my love unto your majesty

May merit favour at your highnesse handes,

Then raise your siege from faire Damascus walles,

And with my father take a frindly truce.

Zenocrate

Honor still weight on happy Tamburlaine:

Yet give me leave to plead for him my Lord.

Act: 5 Scene: 1

Zenocrate

Wretched Zenocrate, that livest to see,

Damascus walles di'd with Egyptian blood:

Thy Frathers subjects and thy countrimen.

Thy streetes strowed with dissevered jointes of men,

And wounded bodies gasping yet for life.

But most accurst, to see the Sun-bright troope

Of heavenly vyrgins and unspotted maides,

Whose lookes might make the angry God of armes,

To breake his sword, and mildly treat of love,

On horsmens Lances to be hoisted up,

And guiltlesly endure a quell death.

Eor every fell and stout Tartarian Stead

That stamps on others with their thundring hooves,

When al their riders chardg'd their quivering speares

Began to checke the ground, and rain themselves:

Gazing upon the beautie of their lookes:

Ah Tamburlaine, wert thou the cause of this

That tearm'st Zenocrate thy dearest love?

Whose lives were dearer to Zenocrate

Than her owne life, or ought save shine owne love.

But see another bloody spectacle.

Ah wretched eies, the enemies of my hart,

How are ye glutted with these grievous objects,

And tell my soule mor tales of bleeding rush?

See, se Anippe if they breathe or no.

Zenocrate

Earth cast up fountaines from thy entralles,

And wet thy cheeks for their untimely deathes:

Shake with their weight in signe of feare and griefe:

Blush heaven, that gave them honor at their birth,

And let them die a death so barbarous.

Those that are proud of fickle Empery,

And place their chiefest good in earthly pompe:

Behold the Turke and his great Emperesse.

Ah Tamburlaine, my love, sweet Tamburlaine,

That fights for Scepters and for slippery crownes,

Behold the Turk and his great Emperesse.

Thou that in conduct of thy happy stars,

Sleep'st every night with conquest on thy browes,

And yet wouldst shun the wavering turnes of war ,

In feare and feeling of the like distresse,

Behold the Turke and his great Emperesse.

Ah myghty Jove and holy Mahomet,

Pardon my Love, oh pardon his contempt,

Of earthly fortune, and respect of pitie,

And let not conquest ruthlesly pursewde

Be equally against his life incenst,

In this great Turk and haplesse Emperesse.

And pardon me that was not moov'd with ruthe,

To see them live so long in misery:

Ah what may chance to thee Zenocrate?

Zenocrate

What other heavie news now brings Philemus?

Zenocrate

Now shame and duty, love and feare presents

A thousand sorrowes to my martyred soule:

Whom should I wish the fatall victory,

When my poore pleasures are devided thus,

And racks by dutie from my cursed heart:

My father and my first betrothed love,

Must fight against my life and present love:

Wherin the change I use condemns my faith,

And makes my deeds infamous through the world.

But as the Gods to end the Troyans toile,

Prevented Turnus of Lavinia ,

And fatally enricht Eneas love.

So for a finall Issue to my griefes,

Topacifie my countrie and my love,

Must Tamburlaine by their resistlesse powers,

With vertue of a gentle victorie,

Conclude a league of honor to my hope.

Then as the powers devine have preordainde.

With happy safty of my fathers life,

Send like defence of faire Arabia.

Zenocrate

Too deare a witnesse for such love my Lord.

Behold Zenocrate, the cursed object

Whose Fortunes never mastered her griefs:

Behold her wounded in conceit for thee,

As much as thy faire body is for me.

Zenocrate

O sight thrice welcome to my joiful soule,

To see the king my Father issue safe,

From dangerous batter of my conquering Love.

Zenocrate

Els should I much forget my self, my Lord.