MYCETES

Full true thou speakest, & Like thy self my lord Whom I may term a Damon for thy love. Therefore 'tis best, if so it Like you all, To send my thousand horse incontinent, To apprehend that paltry Scythian. How Like you this, my honourable Lords? Is it not a kingly resolution? Then hear thy charge, valiant Theridimas The chiefest Captain of Mycetes host, The hope of Persea, and the very legs Whereon our state does lean, as on a staff, That holds us up, and foils our neighbour foes, Thou shalt be leader of this thousand horse, Whose foaming Gall with rage and high disdain, Have sworn the death of wicked Tamburlaine. Go growning forth, but come thou smiling home, As did Sir Paris with the Grecian Dame, Return with speed, time passes swift away, Our life is frail, and we may die to day. Go, stout Theridimas, thy words are swords And with thy looks thou conquerest all thy foes: I long to see thee back return from thence, That I may view these milkwhite steeds of mine. All laden with the heads of killed men, And from their knees, even to their hoofes below, Besmeared with blood, that makes a dainty show. And 'tis a pretty toy to be a Poet. Well, well (Meander) thou art deeply read: And having thee, I have a jewel sure: Go en my Lord, and give your charge I say, Thy wit will make us Conquerors to day. I marry am I: have you any suit to me? So I can when I see my time. I, Didst thou ever see a fairer? Such another word, and I, will have thee executed. Come give it me. You lie, I gave it you. No, I mean, I let you keep it. Oh Gods, is this tamburlaine the thief, I marvel much he stole it not away. Therid. farewell ten thousand times, Ah, Menaphon, why stayest thou thus behind, When other men press forward for renown? Go Menaphon, go into Scythia, And foot by foot follow Theridamas: Unless they have a wiser king than you? These are his words, Meander set them down. Well here I swear by this my royal seat. Embossed with silk as best beseems my state. To be revenged for these contemptuous words. Oh where is duty and allegiance now? Fled to the Caspean or the Ocean main? What, shall I call thee brother? No, a foe, Monster of Nature, shame unto thy stock, That darest presume thy Sovereign for to mock. Meander come, I am abused Meander. Was there such brothers, sweet Meander, say That sprung of teeth of Dragons venomous. He tells you true, my masters, so he does. Drumꝭ, why found you not when ̄ Meaned. speakꝭ. Accursed be he that first invented war, They knew not, ah, they knew not simple men, How those were hit by pelting Cannon shot, Stand staggering Like a quivering Aspen leaf, Fearing the force of Boreas boisterous blasts. In what a lamentable case were I, If Nature had not given me wisdoms lore? For Kings are clouts that every man shoots at, Our Crown the pin that thousands seek to cleave, Therefore in policy I think it good To hide it close: a goodly Stratagem, And far from any man that is a fool. So shall not I be known, or if I be, They cannot take away my crown from me. Here will I hide it in this simple hold. Thou liest. Away, I am the King: go, touch me not. Thou breakest the law of Arms unless thou kneel. And cry me mercy, noble King. BRother Cosroe, I find my self agreeud, Yet insufficient to express the same: For it requires a great and thundering speech: Good brother tell the cause unto my Lords, I know you have a better wit than I. COme my Meander, let us to this gear, I tell you true my heart is swollen with wrath, On this same thievish villain tamburlaine. And of that false Cosroe, my traitorous brothet Would it not grieve a King to be so abused. And have a thousand horsemen taken away? And which is worst to have his Diadem Sought for by such scalde knaucs as love him net. I think it would: well then, by heavens I swear, Aurora shall not peep out of her doors, But I will have Cosroe by the head, And kill proud Tamburlaine with point of sword. Tell you the rest (Meander) I have said. Brother, I see your meaning well enough. And through your Planets I perceive you think, I am not wise enough to be a king, But I refer me to my noble men, That know my wit, and can be witnesses: I might command you to be slain for this, Meander, might I not? I mean it not, but yet I know I might, Yet live, yea, live, Mycetes wills it so: Meander, thou my faithful Counsellor, Declare the cause of my conceived grief, Which is (God knows) about that Tamburlaine. That Like a Fox in amid of harvest time, Doth pray vpnon my flocks of Passengers. And as I hear, does mean to pull my plumes, Therefore 'tis good and meet for to be wise.