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Of India, where raging Lantchidol
Beats on the regions with his boist'rous blows,
All Asia is in arms with Tamburlaine,
And thence as far as Archipelago,
All Afric is in arms with Tamburlaine;
Therefore, viceroy, the Christians must have peace.
Take which thou wilt, for as the Romans us'd,
I here present thee with a naked sword;
Wilt thou have war, then shake this blade at me; If peace, restore it to my hands again,
And I will sheathe it, to confirm the same.
ORC. Stay, Sigismund! forget'st thou I am he That with the cannon shook Vienna's walls, And made it dance upon the continent, As when the massy substance of the earth Quivers about the axle-tree of heaven? Forget'st thou that I sent a show'r of darts, Mingled with powder'd shot and feather'd steel, So thick upon the blink-ey'd burghers' heads, That thou thyself, then County Palatine, The King of Boheme, and the Aust. ick Duke, Sent heralds out, which basely on their knees,
your names desir'd a truce of me?
How canst thou think of this, and offer war?
But now, Orcanes, view my royal host,
That hides these plains, and seems as vast and wide, As doth the desert of Arabia
To those that stand on Bagdad's lofty tower;
Or as the ocean, to the traveller
That rests upon the snowy Appenines;
A friendly parley might become you both.
FRED. And we from Europe, to the same intent, Which if your general refuse or scorn,
Our tents are pitch'd, our men stand in array,
ORC. So prest are we; but yet, if Sigismund
SIG. Then here I sheath it, and give thee
But whilst I live will be at truce with thee.
The Son of God and issue of a maid,
Sweet Jesus Christ, I solemnly protest
And vow to keep this peace inviolable.
ORC. By sacred Mahomet, the friend of God,
Whose glorious body, when he left the world,
Now Sigismund, if any Christian king
Send word, Orcanes of Natolia
Confirm'd this league beyond Danubius' stream,
SIG. If any heathen potentate or king
A hundred thousand horse train'd to the war,
The strength and sinews of the Imperial seat.
ORC. I thank thee, Sigismund; but, when I war, All Asia minor, Africa, and Greece,
Follow my standard and my thund'ring drums.
To stay my coming 'gainst proud Tamburlaine.
CALLAPINE with ALMEDA, his Keeper, discovered. CALL. Sweet Almeda, pity the ruthful plight
Of Callapine, the son of Bajazet,
Born to be monarch of the western world,
Yet here detain'd by cruel Tamburlaine.
ALM. My lord, I pity it, and with all my heart Wish your release; but he whose wrath is death, My sovereign lord, renowned 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, 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 Cairo runs
ALM. No talk of running, I tell you, sir.
CALL. A little farther, gentle Almeda.
CALL. By Cairo runs to Alexandria bay
Whence, 'twixt the isles of Cyprus and of Crete,
We quickly may in Turkish seas arrive.
Then shalt thou see a hundred kings and more
With naked negroes shall thy coach be drawn,
* Where, in both the old editions.