My lord and husband's death, with my sweet son's, (With whom I buried all affections Save grief and sorrow, which torment my heart,) Forbids my mind to entertain a thought That tends to love, but meditate on death, A fitter subject for a pensive soul.
THERIDAMAS. Olympia, pity him in whom thy looks Have greater operation and more force Than Cynthia's in the watery wilderness; For with thy view my joys are at the full, And ebb again as thou depart'st from me.
OLYMPIA. Ah, pity me, my lord, and draw your sword, Making a passage for my troubled soul, Which beats against this prison to get out, And meet my husband and my loving son!
THERIDAMAS. Nothing but still thy husband and thy son? Leave this, my love, and listen more to me: Thou shalt be stately queen of fair Argier; And, cloth'd in costly cloth of massy gold, Upon the marble turrets of my court Sit like to Venus in her chair of state, Commanding all thy princely eye desires; And I will cast off arms to<215> sit with thee, Spending my life in sweet discourse of love.
OLYMPIA. No such discourse is pleasant in<216> mine ears, But that where every period ends with death, And every line begins with death again: I cannot love, to be an emperess.
THERIDAMAS. Nay, lady, then, if nothing will prevail, I'll use some other means to make you yield: Such is the sudden fury of my love, I must and will be pleas'd, and you shall yield: Come to the tent again.
OLYMPIA. Stay now, my lord; and, will you<217> save my honour, I'll give your grace a present of such price As all the world can not afford the like.
THERIDAMAS. What is it?
OLYMPIA. An ointment which a cunning alchymist Distilled from the purest balsamum And simplest extracts of all minerals, In which the essential form of marble stone, Temper'd by science metaphysical, And spells of magic from the mouths<218> of spirits, With which if you but 'noint your tender skin, Nor pistol, sword, nor lance, can pierce your flesh.
THERIDAMAS. Why, madam, think you to mock me thus palpably?
OLYMPIA. To prove it, I will 'noint my naked throat, Which when you stab, look on your weapon's point, And you shall see't rebated<219> with the blow.
THERIDAMAS. Why gave you not your husband some of it, If you lov'd him, and it so precious?
OLYMPIA. My purpose was, my lord, to spend it so, But was prevented by his sudden end; And for a present easy proof thereof,<220> That I dissemble not, try it on me.
THERIDAMAS. I will, Olympia, and will<221> keep it for The richest present of this eastern world. [She anoints her throat.<222>]
OLYMPIA. Now stab, my lord, and mark your weapon's point, That will be blunted if the blow be great.
THERIDAMAS. Here, then, Olympia.-- [Stabs her.] What, have I slain her? Villain, stab thyself! Cut off this arm that at murdered my<223> love, In whom the learned Rabbis of this age Might find as many wondrous miracles As in the theoria of the world! Now hell is fairer than Elysium;<224> A greater lamp than that bright eye of heaven, >From whence the stars do borrow<225> all their light, Wanders about the black circumference; And now the damned souls are free from pain, For every Fury gazeth on her looks; Infernal Dis is courting of my love, Inventing masks and stately shows for her, Opening the doors of his rich treasury To entertain this queen of chastity; Whose body shall be tomb'd with all the pomp The treasure of my<226> kingdom may afford. [Exit with the body.]
SCENE III.
Enter TAMBURLAINE, drawn in his chariot by the KINGS OF TREBIZON and SORIA,<227> with bits in their mouths, reins in his<228> left hand, and in his right hand a whip with which he scourgeth them; AMYRAS, CELEBINUS, TECHELLES, THERIDAMAS, USUMCASANE; ORCANES king of Natolia, and the KING OF JERUSALEM, led by five<229> or six common SOLDIERS; and other SOLDIERS.
TAMBURLAINE. Holla, ye pamper'd jades of Asia!<230> What, can ye draw but twenty miles a-day, And have so proud a chariot at your heels, And such a coachman as great Tamburlaine, But from Asphaltis, where I conquer'd you, To Byron here, where thus I honour you? The horse that guide the golden eye of heaven, And blow the morning from their nostrils,<231> Making their fiery gait above the clouds, Are not so honour'd in<232> their governor As you, ye slaves, in mighty Tamburlaine. The headstrong jades of Thrace Alcides tam'd, That King Aegeus fed with human flesh, And made so wanton that they knew their strengths, Were not subdu'd with valour more divine Than you by this unconquer'd arm of mine. To make you fierce, and fit my appetite, You shall be fed with flesh as raw as blood, And drink in pails the strongest muscadel: If you can live with it, then live, and draw My chariot swifter than the racking<233> clouds; If not, then die like beasts, and fit for naught But perches for the black and fatal ravens. Thus am I right the scourge of highest Jove; And see the figure of my dignity, By which I hold my name and majesty!
AMYRAS.