The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Tamburlaine Part 2

Act: 3 Scene: 3
Captaine
What requier you my maisters?
Captaine
To you? Why, do you thinke me weary of it?
Captaine
Were you that are the friends of Tamburlain ,
Brothers to holy Mahomet himselfe,
I would not yeeld it: therefore doo your worst.
Raise mounts, batter, intrench, and undermine,
Cut off the water, all convoies that can,
Yet I am resolute, and so farewell.
Act: 3 Scene: 4
Captaine
A deadly bullet gliding through my side,
Lies heavy on my heart, I cannot live.
I feele my liver pierc'd and all my vaines,
That there begin and nourish every part,
Mangled and tome, and all my entrals bath'd
In blood that straineth from their orifex.
Farewell sweet wife, sweet son farewell, I die.