n king,
The first affecter of your excellence,
Come [296] now, as Turnus 'gainst Aeneas did,
Armed [297] with lance into the Aegyptian fields,
Ready for battle 'gainst my lord the king.

ZENOCRATE. Now shame and duty, love and fear present
A thousand sorrows to my martyr'd soul.
Whom should I wish the fatal victory,
When my poor pleasures are divided thus,
And rack'd by duty from my cursed heart?
My father and my first-betrothed love
Must fight against my life and present love;
Wherein the change I use condemns my faith,
And makes my deeds infamous through the world:
But, as the gods, to end the Trojans' toil,
Prevented Turnus of Lavinia,
And fatally enrich'd Aeneas' love,
So, for a final [298] issue to my griefs,
To pacify my country and my love,
Must Tamburlaine by their resistless powers,
With virtue of a gentle victory,
Conclude a league of honour to my hope;
Then, as the powers divine have pre-ordain'd,
With happy safety of my father's life
Send like defence of fair Arabia

[They sound to the battle within; and TAMBURLAINE enjoys
the victory: after which, the KING OF ARABIA [299] enters
wounded.]

KING OF ARABIA. What cursed power guides the murdering hands
Of this infamous tyrant's soldiers,
That no escape may save their enemies,
Nor fortune keep themselves from victory?
Lie down, Arabia, wounded to the death,
And let Zenocrate's fair eyes behold,
That, as for her thou bear'st these wretched arms,
Even so for her thou diest in these arms,
Leaving thy [300] blood for witness of thy love.

ZENOCRATE. Too dear a witness for such love, my lord!
Behold Zenocrate, the cursed object
Whose fortunes never mastered her griefs;
Behold her wounded in conceit [301] for thee,
As much as thy fair body is for me!

KING OF ARABIA. Then shall I die with full contented heart,
Having beheld divine Zenocrate,
Whose sight with joy would take away my life
As now it bringeth sweetness to my wound,
If I had not been wounded as I am.
Ah, that the deadly pangs I suffer now
Would lend an hour's licence to my tongue,
To make discourse of some sweet accidents
Have chanc'd thy merits in this worthless bondage,
And that I might be privy to the state
Of th