Arme dread Soveraign and my noble Lords.

The treacherous army of the Christians,

Taking advantage of your slender power,

Comes marching on us, and determines straight,

To bid us battaile for our dearest lives.

Renowmed Emperour, mighty Callepine,

Gods great lieftenant over all the world:

Here at Alepo with an hoste of men

Lies Tamburlaine, this king of Persea:

In number more than are the quyvering leaves

Of Idas forrest, where your highnesse hounds,

With open crie pursues the wounded Stag:

Who meanes to gyrt Natolias walles with siege,

Fire the towne and overrun the land.

My Lord, yong Callapine that lately fled from your majesty, hath nowe gathered a fresh Armie, and hearing your absence in the field, offers to set upon us presently.