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Of Callapine, the son of Bajazeth,
Born to be monarch of the western world,
Yet here detained by cruel Tamburlaine.
Alm. My lord, I pity it, and with all my heart Wish you release; but he whose wrath is death, My sovereign lord, renowmed Tamburlaine, Forbids you farther liberty than this.
Call. Ah, were I now but half so eloquent To paint in words what I'll perform in deeds, 10 I know thou would'st depart from hence with me.
Alm. Not for all Afric: therefore move me not.
Call. Yet hear me speak, my gentle Almeda.
Alm. No speech to that end, by your favour, sir.
Call. By Cairo1 runs
Alm. No talk of running, I tell you, sir.
Call. A little farther, gentle Almeda.
Alm. Well, sir, what of this?
Call. By Cairo runs to Alexandria bay Darote's streams, wherein at2 anchor lies 20 A Turkish galley of my royal fleet, Waiting my coming to the river side, Hoping by some means I shall be released, Which, when I come aboard, will hoist up sail, And soon put forth into the Terrene sea, Where, 'twixt the isles of Cyprus and of Crete, We quickly may in Turkish seas arrive. Then shalt thou see a hundred kings and more, Upon their knees, all bid me welcome home.
1 Old copies, "Cario" (which I take to be a misprint, not a recognised form like Catron in I. 47). 2 So 4to.—8vo. "an."
Amongst so many crowns of burnished gold, 30
Choose which thou wilt, all are at thy command;
A thousand galleys, manned with Christian slaves,
I freely give thee, which shall cut the straits,
And bring armados from the coasts of Spain
Fraughted with gold of rich America;
The Grecian virgins shall attend on thee,
Skilful in music and in amorous lays,
As fair as was Pygmalion's ivory girl
Or lovely Io metamorphosed.
With naked negroes shall thy coach be drawn, 40
As that fair veil that covers all the world, 50
Alm. How far hence lies the galley, say you?
Call. Sweet Almeda, scarce half a league from hence.
Alm. But need1 we not be spied going aboard?
1 I.e. can we escape being spied?
Call. Betwixt the hollow hanging of a hill, And crooked bending of a craggy rock, The sails wrapt up, the mast and tacklings down, She lies so close that none can find her out. 60
Alm. I like that well: but tell me, my lord, if I should let you go, would you be as good as your word? Shall I be made a king for my labour?
Call. As I am Callapine the emperor,
Alm. Then hear I swear, as I am Almeda
Call. Thanks, gentle Almeda; then let us haste, Lest time be past, and lingering let us both.
Alm. When you will, my lord; I am ready.
Call. Even straight; and farewell, cursed Tamburlaine. Now go I to revenge my father's death. [Exeunt.
Enter Tamburlaine, with Zenocrate and his three Sons, Calyphas, Amyras, and Celebinus, with drums and trumpets.
Tamb. Now, bright Zenocrate, the world's fair eye,
Whose beams illuminate the lamps of heaven,
Zeno. Sweet Tamburlaine, when wilt thou leave these
And save thy sacred person free from scathe, 10
Tamb. When heaven shall cease to move on both the
And when the ground, whereon my soldiers march,
Shall rise aloft and touch the horned moon,
And not before, my sweet Zenocrate.
Sit up, and rest thee like a lovely queen;
So, now she sits in pomp and majesty,
When these, my sons, more precious in mine eyes,
Than all the wealthy kingdoms I subdued,
Placed by her side, look on their mother's face: 20 , But yet methinks their looks are amorous,1 , I Not martial as the sons of Tamburlaine: <j / |\, ^JLCTtl
Water and air, being symbolised in one, . \ I »*~* ^
Argue their Want orc~uragTand""oi' wif;
Their hair as white as milk and soft as down,
(Which should be like the quills of porcupines
As black as jet and hard as iron or steel)
Bewrays they are too dainty for the wars;
Their fingers made to quaver on a lute,
Their arms to hang about a lady's neck, 30
Would make me think them bastards not my sons,
But that I know they issued from thy womb
That never looked on man but Tamburlaine.
Zeno. My gracious lord, they have their mother's looks, But, when they list their conquering father's heart. This lovely boy, the youngest of the three, Not long ago bestrid a Scythian steed, Trotting the ring, and tilting at a glove, Which when he tainted1 with his slender rod,2] He reigned him straight and made him so curvet, 4*> As I cried out for fear he should have fallen.
Tamb. Well done, my boy, thou shalt have shield and lance,
Armour of proof, horse, helm, and curtle axe,
1 "This word is the property of the tilt-yard and relates to the management of the spear or staff. It occurs in Massinger's Parliament of Love (iv. 3),—
'Do not fear, I have
2 Broughton compares Faerie Queene, iv. 3 (46):—
"At last arriving at the Iistes side