SOLDAN

counsel brave Lords, the Christian Army marches Even to our gates with paces undisturbed: The hollow earth resounds with weight of arms, And shrinks to bear so huge a multitude. They make a valley as they march along, And raising hills encompass either side. counsel, brave Lords, these terrors to decide. Sion is ours by conquest: All Iudaea Is the rich honour of our conquering swords. Shall we not guard it then, and make our breasts The walls that shall defend Jerusalem? I cannot judge the Christians are so mad To come in way of battle, but of peace. Your own power blinds you and hath skreend your eyes, My hairs do wear experience livery: But yours, the badge of youth and idleness. Their Army stands upon a Mountain top, Like a huge Forest: their tall Pikes, Like Pines, In height do over-peer the lower Trees; Their Horsemen ride Like Centaur's in the meads, And scout abroad for pillage and for prey: Courage is their good Captain. I say again, the Christian Princes lead And Army, for their power, invincible. Victorious hope sits hovering on their plumes: Their guilded Armour shines against the Sun, Dazzling our eyes from top of yonder Hill Like the bright streaks that flow from Paradise. No. Should Jove himself in Thunder answer I When we say no; wee'd pull him from the sky. I say e will make peace with Christendom. Yet hear my age. Stay Lords, our graven experience does foresee The mischiefs that attend on this debate. We tread the path of our destruction, By our dissensions grow the Christians strong, Whom our united hearts may easily quell. Brave Persian Sophy, we commend your hate To them that have abhorred our Pagan gods: Yet temper it with wisdom, valiant Prince. It's our security I would increase, When with my words I mention gentle peace. Then thus, let's send unto the Christians Host, To know what cause hath brought them thus far armed. If peaceably they come to visit here The ancient Relics of their Saviour's Tomb; Peace shall conduct them in, and guard them out. But if they come to conquer Zions Hill, And make irruption through our triple walls; Death and despair shall ambush in their way, And we will seize the ensigns they display. Moretes shall be one, for I am sure He will employ his tongue, peace to pro ure. Moretes and brave Turnus, speed you straight Unto the Christian Host: Say, if they come Like Pilgrimss, to behold the Sepulchre, Our gates stand open to receive them in: And be you painful to persuade a peace. But if they stand upon their hostile ground, Say that our breasts are armed, our swords are keen, Bold are our hearts, and fiery is our spleen, And so be gone. We will mean time conduct, our royal host: One half is mine, the other you shall led, To intercept them ere they win the sighed Of these invincible and high-built walls. Brave Persians, we will both in ambush lie: Sure now the Christians are all come to die. Then your reports found nought but death and war. Our resolutions shall control base fears. We are proud as they; our swords shall answer theirs. Did they not quake to hear it? Did you not Dam h their spirits? fell not their . Down to the earth, when thou didst speak of us? Went not a fearful murmu through their Host, When thou didst number our unnumbered power? Did not their faint swords tremble in their hands, At that name Soldan? There's not and heart shall escape our tyranny, Since they provoke ou indignation, Like the vast Ocean shall our courage rise, To drown their pride, and all their powers surprise. I would burn off this beard in such a flame, As I could kindle with my puissant blows: Yet the least hair I value at more worth Then all the Christian Empire. Speak, brave Soldan, Shall our bared horses climb yond Mountain tops, And bid them battle where they pitch their Tents. Courage cries, on; but good advice says, stay. Experience bids us fight another way. Why should we tire our Troops in search of them, That with audacious boldness secke out us? Let us stand to receive them when they come, And with a grove of Pikes growing on this earth Where now no tree appears, toss up their bodies, Whose coarses by your strong arms kept all e, May hang Like bloody pendants on your staves. It shall be thus. This way the Christians march, The body of our Host shall stay behind, To be a strength to fair Jerusalem. But we with certain soldiers secretly, Will lie in ambush: The great Persian Sophy, With Turnus, and a chief command of men, Shall guard that way: my self, and thou Morates Will keep this p ssage with a troop select, To seize on their forerunners, scouts, and spies. Assist us fate, erelong the world shall know Our glories by the Christians overthrow. This is my Quarter: these my men shall be. Stand Christians, by your Crosses on your breasts Yee're marked for death, and base destruction. I am the Soldan; these my me at arms, That lie to intercept you, and prepare For your accursed lives this fatal snare. Upon them, soldiers; pity they despise, Scarce can the world afford a richer prize. Taken them to guard, this entrance to our wars Is full of spirit, and begets much hope. We will not yet exami e what you are, Till tortures wring it from your slavish tongues. That done, your bloods these champains shall imbrue Mean time we'll wait for more of your lose crew. What, are they free? Alarm Drums, the heathen powers for me. Why swarm these Christians to our Ci ty walls? Look (foreigners) do not not the lofty Spires, And these cloud-kissing Turrets that you see, Strike deadly terror in your wounded souls? Go Persian, flourish my vermilion flag, Advance my Standard high, the sighed whereof Will driven these stragglers in disordered ranks, And in a hurly burly throng them hence. Such peals of Thunder did I never hear, I think that very words these walls will tear. It shall be so Moretes, bring them forth. Bring them forth, Devise new tortures: O for some rare Artist, That could invent a death more terrible Then are the ever lasting pangs of hell. Tush, we will keep him spite of all your braves. And here stands mine, Set p his Standard and Crown. The Babylonian Emperors royal Standard. By it I plant the rich Cicilian Crown, Guarded by me and my all-conquering troops. He that but leaves a note he hath been here, And escapes unslain, although he win them not, That Chris jan will I honour. As loud and proud defiance our Drum sounds. Now the first wall is won, the Ensigns seized, The Crowns surprised, the Christians have the day: What shall we leave the Town? It shall be so. Gather our forces to make good the breach. And oh expose us to the general spoil. Keep the gates shut, defend them man ully. These Christians fight Like devils; keep fast the gates, A worser once again let us make good the wall. Great Monarchs, Kings, and Princes of the East, You come encounter with a valiant foe; Such as have swom huge Rivers, climbed the Alps; That can endure sharp hunger; such as shrink not To have their bloods sod with the dog days heat, Nor to be curdled with cold Saturn's rod. What honour were it for and Host of Giants, To combat with a Pigmee Nation? No, Lords, the foe we must encounter with, Is full of spirit and majestic spleen, Strong, hardy, and their hearts invincible. Dest oy these, and you win your selves a name, And all the nations of the earth shall fear you. Be yours the Vanward. Turnus, have you the Rearward. I the battle, Moretes, thou this day shalt lead the horse Take thou the Cornet, Turnus thou the Archers, Be thine the Guidon, I the men at Arms Be mine this Ensign. My Canoneers needs no instruction. Come, let us line our Pikes with Musketeers, And so attend the Christians fatal charge. Christians? Behold our Camp. From Ganges to the Bay of Call , From Turkey and the threefold Araby: From Sauxin Eastward unto Nubia's bounds, From Libya and the Land of Mauritans, And from the read Sea to the wilderness, Have we unpeopled Kingdoms for these uva res, To be revenged on you base Christians. To make your guide trot by my chariot wheel. A charge, a charge, rail drums, and Cannons roar, Christians, at home your friends abroad deplore. And Engineer, call forth and Engineer. I le make these Turrets dance among the Clouds, Before the Christians shall inhabit them. These Christians rage, Like spirits conjured up, Their thundering Ordinance spit huge clouds of fire, They run against the walls Like iron rams, And bear them down afore them with their breasts. Fortune and fate, and death, the devil and all, That death was once my ave, but now my Lord. Must we needs despair? We will not, we will die resolvedly, The Palace we will make a slaughterhouse, The streets a Shambles, Kennels shall run blood, Down from Mount Zion, with such hideous noise, As when great showers of waterfalls from Hills. There is some virtue in the Cross they wear, It makes them strong as Lyons, swift as Roes. Their resolutions make them Conquerors. They have taken our Royal Standard from the walls, In place whereof they have advanced their Cro Christians, base Christians, hear us when we call, Eternal darkness shall confound you all.