Front Page Titles (by Subject) ACT THE SECOND. - The Works of Christopher Marlowe vol. 1
ACT THE SECOND. - Christopher Marlowe, The Works of Christopher Marlowe vol. 1 
The Works of Christopher Marlowe, ed. A.H. Bullen (London: John C. Nimmo, 1885). Vol. 1.
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ACT THE SECOND.
Enter SIGISMUND, FREDERICK, BALDWIK, and their train.
- Now say, my lords of Buda and Bohemia,
- What motion is it that inflames your thoughts,
- And stirs your valours to such sudden arms?
- Your majesty remembers, I am sure,
- What cruel slaughter of our Christian bloods
- These heathenish Turks and Pagans lately made,
- Betwixt the city Zula and Danubius;
- How through the midst of Varna and Bulgaria,
- And almost to the very walls of Rome,
- They have, not long since, massacred our camp.
- It resteth now, then, that your majesty
- Take all advantages of time and power,
- And work revenge upon these infidels.
- Your highness knows, for Tamburlaine's repair,
- That strikes a terror to all Turkish hearts,
- Natolia hath dismissed the greatest part
- Of all his army, pitched against our power,
- Betwixt Cutheia and Orminius' mount,
- And sent them marching up to Belgasar,
- Acantha, Antioch, and Caesarea,
- To aid the kings of Soria,^and Jerusalem.
- Now then, my lord, advantage take thereof,
- And issue suddenly upon the rest;
- That in the fortune of their overthrow,
- We may discourage all the pagan troop,
- That dare attempt to war with Christians.
- But calls not then your grace to memory
- The league we lately made with King Orcanes,
- Confirmed by oath and articles of peace,
- And calling Christ for record of our truths?
- This should be treachery and violence
- Against the grace of our profession.
- No whit, my lord, for with such infidels,
- In whom no faith nor true religion rests,
- We are not bound to those accomplishments
- The holy laws of Christendom enjoin;
- But as the faith, which they profanely plight,
- Is not by necessary policy
- To be esteemed assurance for ourselves,
- So that we vow to them should not infringe
- Our liberty of arms or victory.
- Though I confess the oaths they undertake
- Breed little strength to our security,
- Yet those infirmities that thus defame
- Their faiths, their honours, and their religion,
- Should not give us presumption to the like.
- Our faiths are sound, and must be consummate, Religious, righteous, and inviolate.
- Assure your grace 'tis superstition
- To stand so strictly on dispensive faith;
- And should we lose the opportunity
- That God hath given to venge our Christians' death,
- And scourge their foul blasphemous Paganism,
- As fell to Saul, to Balaam, and the rest,
- That would not kill and curse at God's command,
- So surely will the vengeance of the Highest,
- And jealous anger of His fearful arm,
- Be poured with rigour on our sinful heads,
- If we neglect this offered victory.
- Then arm, my lords, and issue suddenly,
- Giving commandment to our general host,
- With expedition to assail the Pagan,
- And take the victory our God hath given. [Exeunt.
Enter ORCANES, GAZELLUS, and URIBASSA, with their trains.
- Gazellus, Uribassa, and the rest,
- Now will we march from proud Orminius' mount,
- To fair Natolia, where our neighbour kings
- Expect our power and our royal presence,
- To encounter with the cruel Tamburlaine,
- That nigh Larissa sways a mighty host,
- And with the thunder of his martial tools
- Makes earthquakes in the hearts of men and heaven.
- And now come we to make his sinews shake,
- With greater power than erst his pride hath felt
- An hundred kings, by scores, will bid him arms,
- And hundred thousands subjects to each score,
- Which, if a shower of wounding thunderbolts
- Should break out of the bowels of the clouds,
- And fall as thick as hail upon our heads,
- In partial aid of that proud Scythian,
- Yet should our courages and steeled crests,
- And numbers, more than infinite, of men,
- Be able to withstand and conquer him.
- Methinks I see how glad the Christian king
20 Is made, for joy of your admitted truce,
- That could not but before be terrified
- With unacquainted power of our host.
- Enter a Messenger.
- Arm, dread sovereign, 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 battle for our dearest lives.
- Traitors! villains! damned Christians!
- Have I not here the articles of peace,
- And solemn covenants we have both confirmed,
- He by his Christ, and I by Mahomet?
- Hell and confusion light upon their heads,
- That with such treason seek our overthrow,
- And care so little for their prophet, Christ!
- 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 everhving Jove,
- And hath the power of his outstretched arm;
- If he be jealous of his name and honour,
- As is our holy prophet, Mahomet;—
- Take here these papers as our sacrifice
- And witness of thy servant's perjury.
- [He tears to pieces the articles of peace.
- Open, thou shining veil of Cynthia,
- And make a passage from the empyreal heaven,
- That he that sits on high and never sleeps,
- Nor in one place is circumscriptible,
- But everywhere fills every continent
- With strange infusion of his sacred vigour,
- May in his endless power and purity,
- Behold and venge this traitor's perjury!
- Thou Christ, that art esteemed omnipotent,
- If thou wilt prove thyself a perfect God,
- Worthy the worship of all faithful hearts,
- Be now revenged upon this traitor's soul,
- And make the power I have left behind,
- (Too little to defend our guiltless lives,)
- Sufficient to discomfort and confound
- The trustless force of those false Christians.
- To arms, my lords! On Christ still let us cry!
- If there be Christ, we shall have victory.
Alarums of battle.—Enter SIGISMUND, wounded.
- Discomfited is all the Christian host,
- And God hath thundered vengeance from on high,
- For my accursèd and -hateful perjury.
- O, just and dreadful punisher of sin,
- Let the dishonour of the pains I feel,
- In this my mortal well-deserved wound,
- End all my penance in my sudden death!
- And let this death, wherein to sin I die,
- Conceive a second life in endless mercy!
- [He dies.
- Enter ORCANES, GAZELLUS, URIBASSA, and others.
- Now lie the Christians bathing in their bloods,
- nd Christ or Mahomet hath been my friend.
- See here the perjured traitor Hungary,
- Bloody and breathless for his villany.
- Now shall his barbarous body be a prey
- To beasts and fowls, and all the winds shall breathe
- Through shady leaves of every senseless tree
- Murmurs and hisses for his heinous sin.
- Now scalds his soul in the Tartarian streams,
- And feeds upon the baneful tree of hell,
- That Zoacum, that fruit of bitterness,
- That in the midst of fire is ingrafted,
- Yet flourishes as Flora in her pride,
- With apples like the heads of damned fiends.
- The devils there, in chains of quenchless flame,
- Shall lead his soul through Orcus' burning gulph,
- From pain to pain, whose change shall never end.
- What say'st thou yet, Gazellus, to his foil
- Which we referred to justice of his Christ,
- And to his power, which here appears as full
- As rays of Cynthia to the clearest sight?
- 'Tis but the fortune of the wars, my lord,
- Whose power is often proved a miracle.
- Yet in my thoughts shall Christ be honoured,
- Not doing Mahomet an injury,
- Whose power had share in this our victory;
- And since this miscreant hath disgraced his faith,
- And died a traitor both to heaven and earth,
- We will both watch and ward shall keep his trunk
- Amidst these plains for fowls to prey upon.
- Go, Uribassa, give it straight in charge.
- And now, Gazellus, let us haste and meet
- Our army, and our brother[s] of Jerusalem,
- Of Soria, Trebizond, and Amasia,
- And happily, with full Natolian bowls
- Of Greekish wine, now let us celebrate
- Our happy conquest and his angry fate.
ZENOCRATEis discovered lying in her bed of state; TAMBURLAINE sitting by her; three PHYSICIANS about her led, tempering potions; THERIDAMAS, TECHELLES, USUMCASANE, and the three Sons.
- Black is the beauty of the brightest day;
- The golden ball of heaven's eternal fire,
- That danced with glory on the silver waves,
- Now wants the fuel that inflamed his beams;
- And all with faintness, and for foul disgrace,
- He binds his temples with a frowning cloud,
- Ready to darken earth with endless night.
- Zenocrate, that gave him light and life,
- Whose eyes shot fire from their ivory bowers,
- And tempered every soul with lively heat,
10 Now by the malice of the angry skies,
- Whose jealousy admits no second mate,
- Draws in the comfort of her latest breath,
- All dazzled with the hellish mists of death.
- Now walk the angels on the walls of heaven,
- As sentinels to warn the immortal souls
- To entertain divine Zenocrate.
- Apollo, Cynthia, and the ceaseless lamps
- That gently looked upon this loathsome earth,
- Shine downward now no more, but deck the heavens,
20 To entertain divine Zenocrate.
- The crystal springs, whose taste illuminates
- Refined eyes with an eternal sight,
- Like tried silver, run through Paradise,
- To entertain divine Zenocrate.
- The cherubins and holy seraphins,
- That sing and play before the King of kings,
- Use all their voices and their instruments
- To entertain divine Zenocrate.
- And in this sweet and curious harmony,
- The God that tunes this music to our souls,
- Holds out his hand in highest majesty
- To entertain divine Zenocrate.
- Then let some holy trance convey my thoughts
- Up to the palace of th' empyreal heaven,
- That this my life may be as short to me
- As are the days of sweet Zenocrate.—
- Physicians, will no physic do her good?
- My lord, your majesty shall soon perceive:
- An if she pass this fit, the worst is past.
- Tell me, how fares my fair Zenocrate?
- I fare, my lord, as other empresses,
- That, when this frail and transitory flesh
- Hath sucked the measure of that vital air
- That feeds the body with his dated health,
- Wade with enforced and necessary change.
- May never such a change transform my
- love, In whose sweet being I repose my life,
- Whose heavenly presence, beautified with health,
- Gives light to Phoebus and the fixed stars!
- Whose absence makes the sun and moon as dark,
- As when, opposed in one diameter,
- Their spheres are mounted on the serpent's head,
- Or else descended to his winding train.
- Live still, my love, and so conserve my life,
- Or, dying, be the author of my death!
- Live still, my lord! O, let my sovereign live!
- And sooner let the fiery element
- Dissolve and make your kingdom in the sky,
- Than this base earth should shroud your majesty:
- For should I but suspect your death by mine,
- The comfort of my future happiness,
- And hope to meet your highness in the heavens,
- Turned to despair, would break my wretched breast,
- And fury would confound my present rest.
- But let me die, my love; yet let me die;
- With love and patience let your true love die!
- Your grief and fury hurts my second life.
- — Yet let me kiss my lord before I die,
- And let me die with kissing of my lord.
- But since my life is lengthened yet a while,
- Let me take leave of these my loving sons,
- And of my lords, whose true nobility
- Have merited my latest memory.
- Sweet sons, farewell! In death resemble me,
- And in your lives your father's excellence.
- Some music, and my fit will cease, my lord.
- [They call for music.
- Proud fury, and intolerable fit,
- That dares torment the body of my love,
- And scourge the scourge of the immortal God:
80 Now are those spheres, where Cupid used to sit,
- Wounding the world with wonder and with love,
- Sadly supplied with pale and ghastly death,
- Whose darts do pierce the centre of my soul
- Her sacred beauty hath enchanted heaven;
- And had she lived before the siege of Troy,
- Helen (whose beauty summoned Greece to arms,
- And drew a thousand ships to Tenedos)
- Had not been named in Homer's Iliads;
- Her name had been in every line he wrote.
90 Or had those wanton poets, for whose birth
- Old Rome was proud, but gazed a while on her,
- Nor Lesbia nor Connna had been named;
- Zenocrate had been the argument
- Of every epigram or elegy.
- [The music sounds.—Zenocrate dies.
- What! is she dead? Techelles, draw thy sword
- And wound the earth, that it may cleave in twain,
- And we descend into the infernal vaults,
- To hale the Fatal Sisters by the hair,
- And throw them in the triple moat of hell,
- For taking hence my fair Zenocrate.
- Casane and Theridamas, to arms!
- Raise cavalieros higher than the clouds,
- And with the cannon break the frame of heaven;
- Batter the shining palace of the sun,
- And shiver all the starry firmament,
- For amorous Jove hath snatched my love from hence,
- Meaning to make her stately queen of heaven.
- What God soever holds thee in his arms,
- Giving thee nectar and ambrosia,
- Behold me here, divine Zenocrate,
- Raving, impatient, desperate, and mad,
- Breaking my steelèd lance, with which I burst
- The rusty beams of Janus' temple-doors,
- Letting out Death and tyrannising War,
- To march with me under this bloody flag!
- And if thou pitiest Tamburlaine the Great,
- Come down from heaven, and live with me again!
- Ah, good my lord, be patient; she is dead,
- And all this raging cannot make her live.
- If words might serve, our voice hath rent the air;
- If tears, our eyes have watered all the earth;
- If grief, our murdered hearts have strained forth blood
- Nothing prevails, for she is dead, my lord.
- For she is dead! Thy words do pierce my
- Ah, sweet Theridamas! say so no more;
- Though she be dead, yet let me think she lives,
- And feed my mind that dies for want of her.
- Where'er her soul be, thou [To the body] shall stay with
- Embalmed with cassia, ambergris, and myrrh,
- Not lapt in lead, but in a sheet of gold,
- And till I die thou shalt not be interred.
- Then in as rich a tomb as Mausolus'
- We both will rest and have one epitaph
- Writ in as many several languages
- As I have conquered kingdoms with my sword.
- This cursèd town will I consume with fire,
- Because this place bereaved me of my love:
- The houses, burnt, will look as if they mourned;
- And here will I set up her statua,
- And march about it with my mourning camp
- Drooping and pining for Zenocrate.
- [The seene doses.