SCENE III. Enter TECHELLES, THERIDAMAS, and their Train. THER. Thus have we march'd northward from Tamburlaine, Unto the frontier port of Syria; And this is Balsora, their chiefest hold, TECH. Then let us bring our light artillery, How say you, soldiers, shall we not? SOLD. Yes, my lord, yes; come, let's about it. THER. But stay awhile; summon a parley, drum. It may be they will yield it quietly, Knowing two kings, the friends to Tamburlaine, [A parley sounded.-Captain appears on the CAPT. What require you, my masters? THER. Captain, that thou yield up thy hold to us. CAPT. To you! Why, do you think me weary of it? TECH. Nay, captain, thou art weary of thy life, If thou withstand the friends of Tamburlaine. THER. The pioneers of Argier in Africa, Even in the cannon's face, shall raise a hill Of earth and faggots higher than the fort, And over thy Argins and cover'd ways • Minions, Falc'nets, and Sakers. All small pieces of ordnance. Shall play upon the bulwarks of thy hold Shall ransom thee, thy wife, and family. TECH. Captain, these Moors shall cut the leaden pipes, That bring fresh water to thy men and thee, That no supply of victual shall come in, Nor any issue forth but they shall die; And, therefore, captain, yield it quietly. CAPT. Were you, that are the friends of Tamburlaine, Brothers of holy Mahomet himself, I would not yield it; therefore do your worst: [Captain, Olympia, and their son, retire from THER. Pioneers, away! and where I stuck the Intrench with those dimensions I prescrib'd. Pio. We will, my lord. [Exeunt Pioneers. TECH. A hundred horse shall scout about the plains, A To spy what force comes to relieve the hold. Where we will have gallions of six foot broad, TECH. Trumpets and drums, alarum presently; And, soldiers, play the men; the hold is yours! [Exeunt. Alarums. Re-enter the CAPTAIN, with OLYMPIA, and his SON. OLYM. Come, good, my lord, and let us haste from hence Along the cave that leads beyond the foe; No hope is left to save this conquer'd hold. CAPT. A deadly bullet, gliding through my side, Lies heavy at my heart; I cannot live. I feel my liver pierc'd, and all my veins, Farewell, sweet wife! sweet son, farewell! I die! [He dies. OLYM. Death, whither art thou gone, that both we live? Come back again, sweet Death, and strike us both! [She stabs him, and he dies. OLYM. Ah, sacred Mahomet, if this be sin, Entreat a pardon of the God of heaven, And purge my soul before it come to thee. [She burns the bodies of her husband and son, and then attempts to kill herself. Enter THERIDAMAS, TECHELLES, and all their Train. THER. How now, madam, what are you doing? Thou shalt with us to Tamburlaine the Great, Will match thee with a viceroy or a king. And for his sake here will I end my days. THER. But, lady, go with us to Tamburlaine, And thou shalt see a man, greater than Mahomet, In whose high looks is much more majesty, Than from the concave superficies Of Jove's vast palace, the empyreal orb, And strews the way with brains of slaughter'd men; |