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From “Tamburlaine”
TAMBURLAINE.—But now, my boys, leave off and list to me, | |
| That mean to teach you rudiments of war: | |
| I ’ll have you learn to sleep upon the ground, | |
| March in your armor through watery fens, | |
| Sustain the scorching heat and freezing cold, | 5 |
| Hunger and thirst, right adjuncts of the war, | |
| And after this to scale a castle wall, | |
| Besiege a fort, to undermine a town, | |
| And make whole cities caper in the air. | |
| Then next the way to fortify your men: | 10 |
| In champion grounds, what figure serves you best, | |
| For which the quinque-angle form is meet, | |
| Because the corners there may fall more flat | |
| Whereas the fort may fittest be assailed, | |
| And sharpest where the assault is desperate. | 15 |
| The ditches must be deep; the counterscarps | |
| Narrow and steep; the walls made high and broad; | |
| The bulwarks and the rampires large and strong, | |
| With cavalieros and thick counterforts, | |
| And room within to lodge six thousand men. | 20 |
| It must have privy ditches, countermines, | |
| And secret issuings to defend the ditch; | |
| It must have high argins and covered ways, | |
| To keep the bulwark fronts from battery, | |
| And parapets to hide the musketers; | 25 |
| Casemates to place the great artillery; | |
| And store of ordnance, that from every flank | |
| May scour the outward curtains of the fort, | |
| Dismount the cannon of the adverse part, | |
| Murder the foe, and save the walls from breach. | 30 |
| When this is learned for service on the land, | |
| By plain and easy demonstration | |
| I ’ll teach you how to make the water mount, | |
| That you may dry-foot march through lakes and pools, | |
| Deep rivers, havens, creeks, and little seas, | 35 |
| And make a fortress in the raging waves, | |
| Fenced with the concave of monstrous rock, | |
| Invincible by nature of the place. | |
| When this is done then are ye soldiers, | |
| And worthy sons of Tamburlaine the Great. | 40 |
| CALYPHAS.—My lord, but this is dangerous to be done: | |
| We may be slain or wounded ere we learn. | |
| TAMBURLAINE.—Villain! Art thou the son of Tamburlaine, | |
| And fear’st to die, or with a curtle-axe | |
| To hew thy flesh, and make a gaping wound? | 45 |
| Hast thou beheld a peal of ordnance strike | |
| A ring of pikes, mingled with shot and horse, | |
| Whose shattered limbs, being tossed as high as Heaven, | |
| Hang in the air as thick as sunny motes, | |
| And canst thou, coward, stand in fear of death? | 50 |
| Hast thou not seen my horsemen charge the foe, | |
| Shot through the arms, cut overthwart the hands, | |
| Dyeing their lances with their streaming blood, | |
| And yet at night carouse within my tent, | |
| Filling their empty veins with airy wine, | 55 |
| That, being concocted, turns to crimson blood,— | |
| And wilt thou shun the field for fear of wounds? | |
| View me, thy father, that hath conquered kings, | |
| And with his horse marched round about the earth | |
| Quite void of scars and clear from any wound, | 60 |
| That by the wars lost not a drop of blood,— | |
| And see him lance his flesh to teach you all. (He cuts his arm.) | |
| A wound is nothing, be it ne’er so deep; | |
| Blood is the god of war’s rich livery. | |
| Now look I like a soldier, and this wound | 65 |
| As great a grace and majesty to me, | |
| As if a chain of gold, enamellèd, | |
| Enchased with diamonds, sapphires, rubies, | |
| And fairest pearl of wealthy India, | |
| Were mounted here under a canopy, | 70 |
| And I sate down clothed with a massy robe, | |
| That late adorned the Afric potentate, | |
| Whom I brought bound unto Damascus’ walls. | |
| Come, boys, and with your fingers search my wound, | |
| And in my blood wash all your hands at once, | 75 |
| While I sit smiling to behold the sight. | |
| Now, my boys, what think ye of a wound? | |
| CALYPHAS.—I know not what I should think of it; methinks it is a pitiful sight. | |
| CELEBINUS.—’T is nothing: give me a wound, father. | |
| AMYRAS.—And me another, my lord. | 80 |
| TAMBURLAINE.—Come, sirrah, give me your arm. | |
| CELEBINUS.—Here, father, cut it bravely, as you did your own. | |
| TAMBURLAINE.—It shall suffice thou darest abide a wound: | |
| My boy, thou shalt not lose a drop of blood | |
| Before we meet the army of the Turk; | 85 |
| But then run desperate through the thickest throngs, | |
| Dreadless of blows, of bloody wounds, and death; | |
| And let the burning of Larissa-walls, | |
| My speech of war, and this my wound you see, | |
| Teach you, my boys, to bear courageous minds, | 90 |
| Fit for the followers of great Tamburlaine! | |
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