The Works of Christopher Marlowe

Tamburlaine Part 2


Act: 2 Scene: 2
Gazellus, Uribassa, and the rest,
Now will we march from proud Orminius mount
To faire Natolia, where our neighbour kings
Expect our power and our royall presence,
T'incounter with the quell Tamburlain,
That nigh Larissa swaies a mighty hoste,
And with the thunder of his martial tooles
Makes Earthquakes in the hearts of men and heaven.
Traitors, villaines, damned Christians.
Have I not here the articles of peace,
And solemne covenants we have both confirm'd,
He by his Christ, and I by Mahomet?
Can there be such deceit in Christians,
Or treason in the fleshly heart of man,
Whose shape is figure of the highest God?
Then if there be a Christ, as Christians say,
But in their deeds deny him for their Christ:
If he be son to everliving Jove,
And hath the power of his outstretched arme,
If he be jealous of his name and honor,
As is our holy prophet Mahomet,
Take here these papers as our sacrifice
And wimesse of thy servants perjury.
Open thou shining vaile of Cynthia
And make a passage from the imperiall heaven
That he that sits on high and never sleeps,
Nor in one place is circumscriptible,
But every where fils every Continent,
With strange infusion of his sacred vigor,
May in his endlesse power and puritie
Behold and venge this Traitors perjury.
Thou Christ that art esteem'd omnipotent,
If thou wilt proove thy selfe a perfect God,
Worthy the worship of all faithfull hearts,
Be now reveng'd upon this Traitors soule,
And make the power I have left behind
(Too litle to defend our guiltlesse lives)
Sufficient to discomfort and confound
The trustlesse force of those false Christians.
To armes my Lords, on Christ still let us crie,
If there be Christ, we shall have victorie.

Act: 2 Scene: 3
Now lie the Christians bathing in their bloods,
And Christ or Mahomet hath bene my friend.
Now shall his barbarous body be a pray
To beasts and foules, and al the winds shall breath
Through shady leaves of every sencelesse tree,
Murmures and hisses for his heinous sin.
Now scaldes his soule in the Tartarian streames,
And feeds upon the baneful! tree of hell,
That Zoacum , that fruit of bytternesse,
That in the midst of fire is ingraft,
Yet flourisheth as Flora in her pride,
With apples like the heads of damned Feends.
The Dyvils there in chaines of quencelesse flame,
Shall lead his soule through Orcus burning gulfe:
From paine to paine, whose change shal never end:
What saiest thou yet Gazellus to his foile:
Which we referd to justice of his Christ,
And to his power, which here appeares as full
As rates of Cynthia to the clearest sight?
Yet in my thoughts shall Christ be honoured,
Not dooing Mahomet an injurie,
Whose power had share in this our victory:
And since this miscreant hath disgrac'd his faith,
And died a traitor both to heaven and earth,
We wil both watch and ward shall keepe his trunke
Amidst these plaines, for Foules to pray upon.
Go Uribassa, give it straight in charge.
And now Gazellus, let us haste and meete
Our Army and our brother of Jerusalem,
Of Soria , Trebizon and Amasia,
And happily with full Natolian bowles
Of Greekish wine now let us celebrate
Our happy conquest, and his angry fate.