TARTARY

Set down the broken column of mine age, The golden Anchor, Hope, once showed to me, Hath split and sunk the vessel held my wealth: O my Arbasto. He's a good Physician that can quite kill grief, That hath but newly made his patient of me: Tear S must give vent first to the oppressed heart, And Time lay drawing plasters to the soar, Before he can find ease, but yet I thank ye. Forbear I say, on your allegiance: Had my Arbasto died in our defence, Against the pride of the hight Persian Host, That seeks to pale his Temple with our wreathe, And name Tartary new Persia, Our cares had been but slight, but in a friendly Breathing exercise, when honour goes a feasting but for show, A jesting practice in the School of Arms, There for to loose him. I know not that; why should he ruin him, Showing more kind innated friendship to him, Than brother shows to brother. No more I say, upon your lives no more: Too hard it is for me to give a true descidence to the cause, The Knight was ever courteous, fair, and free, And against the Persian in my just defence, Ransomed my son from multitudes of lose, And brought home conquest to our very gate, I cannot then in honour take his life, Our neighbour Kings would say, I dealt not fair, And quite disclaim in us all brotherhood: To banish him, were but the more to enlarge his fame; All kingdoms are but Knight errands native home. And wisely Lenon, go bring forth the Knight; We are determined that he shall not live; Nor shall he suffer here within our Courts, We'll kill him in a nobler gentile way: Oh here he comes. Sir Knight, you have not fairly dealt with us; Though against my foes you brought me honour home, My deer sons life you have took for your reward; But you shall find it's treasure stole, not bounty given, And for that theft your life must satisfy. For him that calls him. Thy hand once more brave English Knight, We are at peace, and will not what we may: But let me now one thing enjoin you to, Not as a penance for my deer sons lose, But as a further safety of my Kingdom, And larger interest of your love to me. My Hope's are better of thee, noble Knight; Hear then thy task, thou shalt then hence In Knightly order ride, against him, not only Aided Persia against our power, but shakes our Kingdom with the power of hell, black Ormandine, The enchanted Garden-keeper; if that thou darest Attempt, and bring his head, I will not only Quittance this mischance, which makes me wretched, But half my partly of this large Crown Is thine, and when I die, David of Wales reigns King of Tartary; Speak comfortable words of the attempt. It's enough; rise noble David, So, n w shall I be revenged for my sons life, Without the clamour of the world for it: Thou bring his head, poor Knight, thou mayest as well Rob love of lightning, or clasp a hand Garnado, Being fired: to morrow morning you shall forward set; On with the Hearse till you return We sorrows path shall tread, And bury grief when thou bringest Ar ands head.