Selimus

Prologue Enter Prologue. Prologue No feignèd toy nor forgèd tragedy, Gentles, we here present unto your view But a most lamentable history, Which this last age acknowledgeth for true. Here shall you see the wicked son pursue His wretched father with remorseless spite And, daunted once, his force again renew, Poison his father, kill his friends in fight. You shall behold him character in blood The image of an implacable king And, like a sea or high resurging flood, All obstant lets down with his fury fling, Which if with patience of you shall be heard, We have the greatest part of our reward. Exit.

Scene 1 Enter Bajazeth Emperor of Turkey, Mustaffa, Cherseoli, and the Janissaries. Bajazeth Leave me, my lords, until I call you forth, For I am heavy and disconsolate. Exeunt all but Bajazeth. Bajazeth So, Bajazeth, now thou remainst alone, Unrip the thoughts that harbor in thy breast And eat thee up, for arbiter here’s none That may descry the cause of thy unrest, Unless these walls thy secret thoughts declare, And princes’ walls, they say, unfaithful are. Why, that’s the profit of great regiment, That all of us are subject unto fears, And this vain show and glorious intent Privy suspicion on each scruple rears. Ay, though on all the world we make extent, From the south pole unto the northern bears, And stretch our reign from East to Western shore, Yet doubt and care are with us evermore. Look how the earth, clad in her summer’s pride, Embroidereth her mantle gorgeously With fragrant herbs and flowers gaily dyed, Spreading abroad her spangled tapestry: Yet under all a loathsome snake doth hide. Such is our life: under crowns cares do lie, And fear the scepter still attends upon. Oh, who can take delight in kingly throne? Public disorders joined with private cark, Care of our friends and of our children dear, Do toss our lives, as waves a silly bark. Though we be fearless, ’tis not without fear, For hidden mischief lurketh in the dark, And storms may fall be the day ne’er so clear. He knows not what it is to be a king That thinks a scepter is a pleasant thing. Twice fifteen times hath fair Latona’s son Walked about the world with his great light Since I began—would I had ne’er begun— To sway this scepter. Many a careful night, When Cynthia in haste to bed did run, Have I with watching vexed my agèd spirit. Since when, what dangers I have overpassed Would make a heart of adamant aghast. The Persian Sophy, mighty Ismael, Did take the Levant clean away from me, And Caraguis Bassa, sent his force to quell, Was killed himself the while his men did flee. Poor Hali Bassa, having once sped well And gained of him a bloody victory, Was at the last slain fighting in the field, Charactering honor in his battered shield. Ramirchan, the Tatarian Emperor, Gathering to him a number numberless Of big-boned Tatars, in a hapless hour Encountered me, and there my chiefest bliss Good Alemshae (ah, this remembrance sour) Was slain, the more t’augment my sad distress. In losing Alemshae poor, I lost more Than ever I had gainèd theretofore. Well may thy soul rest in her latest grave, Sweet Alemshae, the comfort of my days. That thou mightst live, how often did I crave? How often did I bootless prayers raise To that high power that life first to thee gave? Trusty was thou to me at all assays, And, dearest child, thy father oft hath cried That thou hadst lived, so he himself had died. The Christian armies, oftentimes defeated By my victorious father’s valiance, Have all my captains famously confronted, And cracked in two our uncontrollèd lance. My strongest garrisons they have supplanted And overwhelmed me in sad mischance; And my decrease so long wrought their increase, ’Til I was forced conclude a friendly peace. Now all these are but foreign damages, Taken in war whose die uncertain is, But I shall have more home-born outrages, Unless my divination aims amiss. I have three sons all of unequal ages, And all in diverse studies set their bliss: Corcut, my eldest, a philosopher, Acomat pompous, Selim a warrior. Corcut in fair Magnesia leads his life In learning arts and Mahound’s dreaded laws; Acomat loves to court it with his wife, And in a pleasant quiet joys to pause; But Selim follows wars in dismal strife And snatcheth at my crown with greedy claws. But he shall miss of that he aimeth at, For I reserve it for my Acomat. For Acomat? Alas, it cannot be. Stern Selimus hath won my people’s hearts. The Janissaries love him more than me And for his cause will suffer any smart. They see he is a friend to chivalry, And sooner will they from my faith depart, And by strong hand, Bajazeth, pull thee down, Than let their Selim hop without the crown. Ah, if the soldiers overrule thy state, And nothing must be done without their will; If every base and upstart runagate Shall cross a prince and overthwart him still; If Corcut, Selimus, and Acomat, With crowns and kingdoms shall their hungers fill, Poor Bajazeth, what then remains to thee But the bare title of thy dignity? Ay, and unless thou do dissemble all And wink at Selimus’s aspiring thought, The bassas cruelly shall work thy fall, And then thy empire is but dearly bought. Ah, that our sons, thus to ambition thrall, Should set the law of nature all at nought. But what must be cannot choose but be done. —Come, bassas, enter; Bajazeth hath done. Enter again Mustaffa, Cherseoli, and the Janissaries. Cherseoli Dread Emperor, long may you happy live, Loved of your subjects and feared of your foes. We wonder much what doth your highness grieve That you will not unto your lords disclose. Perhaps you fear lest we, your loyal peers, Would prove disloyal to your majesty And be rebellious in your dying years. But, mighty prince, the heavens can testify How dearly we esteem your safety. Mustaffa Perhaps you think Mustaffa will revolt And leave your grace and cleave to Selimus, But sooner shall th’almighty’s thunderbolt Strike me down to the cave tenebrious, The lowest land and damnèd spirits’ holt, Than true Mustaffa prove so treacherous. Your majesty then needs not much to fear, Since you are loved of subject, prince, and peer. First shall the sun rise from the occident, And loose his steeds benighted in the East, First shall the sea become the continent, Ere we forsake our sovereign’s behest. We fought not for you against Persians’ tent, Breaking our lances on his sturdy crest; We fought not for you gainst the Christian host To become traitors after all our cost. Bajazeth Hear me, Mustaffa and Cherseoli. I am a father of a headstrong brood, Which if I look not closely to myself, Will seek to ruinate their father’s state, Even as the vipers in great Nero’s fen Eat up the belly that first nourished them. You see the harvest of my life is past, And agèd winter hath besprent my head With a hoar-frost of silver colored hairs, The harbingers of honorable eld; These branchlike veins which once did guide my arms To toss the spear in battellous array, Now withered up, have lost their former strength. My sons, whom now ambition ’gins to prick, May take occasion of my weakened age And rise in rebel arms against my state. But stay, here comes a messenger to us. Sound within. Enter a Messenger. Messenger Health and good hap to Bajazeth, The great commander of all Asia. Selim, the Soldan of great Trebisond, Sends me unto your grace to signify His alliance with the King of Tatary. Bajazeth Said I not, lords, as much to you before That mine own sons would seek my overthrow? And see, here comes a luckless messenger To prove that true which my mind did foretell. Does Selim make so small account of us That he dare marry without our consent, And to that devil, too, of Tatary? And could he then, unkind, so soon forget The injuries that Ramir did to me, Thus to consort himself with him gainst me? Cherseoli Your majesty misconsters Selimus; It cannot be that he in whose high thoughts A map of many valors is enshrined Should seek his father’s ruin and decay. Selimus is a prince of forward hope, Whose only name affrights your enemies; It cannot be he should prove false to you. Bajazeth Can it not be? Oh yes, Cherseoli, For Selim’s hands do itch to have the crown, And he will have it or else pull me down. Is he a prince? Ah no, he is a sea, To which run nought but ambitious reaches, Seditious complots, murder, fraud, and hate. Could he not let his father know his mind, But match himself when I least thought on it? Mustaffa Perhaps, my lord, Selimus loved the dame And feared to certify you of his love Because her father was your enemy. Bajazeth In love, Mustaffa? Selimus in love? If he be, lording, ’tis not ladies’ love But love of rule and kingly sov’reignty. For wherefore should he fear t’ask my consent? Trusty Mustaffa, if he had feared me, He never would have loved mine enemy. But this his marriage with the Tatar’s daughter Is but the prologue to his cruelty, And quickly shall we have the tragedy, Which though he act with meditated bravery, The world will never give him plaudity. What, yet more news? Sound within. Enter another Messenger. Messenger Dread Emperor, Selimus is at hand; Two hundred thousand strong Tatarians, Armèd at all points, does he lead with him, Besides his followers from Trebisond. Bajazeth I thought so much of wicked Selimus. Oh forlorn hopes and hapless Bajazeth, Is duty then exilèd from his breast, Which nature hath inscribed with golden pen, Deep in the hearts of honorable men? Ah Selim, Selim, wert thou not my son, But some strange unacquainted foreigner, Whom I should honor as I honored thee, Yet would it grieve me even unto the death, If he should deal as thou hast dealt with me. And thou, my son, to whom I freely gave The mighty Empire of great Trebisond, Art too unnatural to requite me thus. Good Alemshae, hadst thou lived ’til this day, Thou wouldst have blushèd at thy brother’s mind. Come, sweet Mustaffa. Come, Cherseoli. And with some good advice recomfort me. Exeunt all.

Scene 2 Enter Selimus, Sinam Bassa, Ottrante, Occhiali, and the soldiers. Selimus Aside Now, Selimus, consider who thou art: Long hast thou marched in disguisèd attire, But now unmask thyself and play thy part And manifest the heat of thy desire; Nourish the coals of thine ambitious fire, And think that then thy empire is most sure When men for fear thy tyranny endure. Think that to thee there is no worse reproach Than filial duty in so high a place. Thou oughtst to set barrels of blood abroach And seek with sword whole kingdoms to displace. Let Mahound’s laws be locked up in their case, And meaner men and of a baser spirit In virtuous actions seek for glorious merit. I count it sacrilege for to be holy Or reverence this threadbare name of good. Leave to old men and babes that kind of folly; Count it of equal value with the mud. Make thou a passage for thy gushing flood By slaughter, treason, or what else thou can, And scorn religion; it disgraces man. My father Bajazeth is weak and old And hath not much above two years to live. The Turkish crown of pearl and Ophir gold He means to his dear Acomat to give. But ere his ship can to her haven drive, I’ll send abroad my tempests in such sort That she shall sink before she get the port. Alas, alas, his highness’ agèd head Is not sufficient to support a crown. Then, Selimus, take thou it in his stead, And if at this thy boldness he dare frown Or but resist thy will, then pull him down. For since he hath so short a time t’enjoy it, I’ll make it shorter, or I will destroy him. Nor pass I what our holy votaries Shall here object against my forward mind: I reck not of their foolish ceremonies But mean to take my fortune as I find. Wisdom commands to follow tide and wind: And catch the front of swift Occasion Before she be too quickly overgone. Some man will say I am too impious, Thus to lay siege against my father’s life, And that I ought to follow virtuous And godly sons, that virtue is a glass Wherein I may my errant life behold And frame myself by it in ancient mold. Good sir, your wisdom’s overflowing wit Digs deep with learning’s wonder-working spade. Perhaps you think that now forsooth you sit With some grave wizard in a prattling shade. Avaunt such glasses: let them view in me The perfect picture of right tyranny. I, like a lion, look not worth a leek, When every dog deprives him of his prey: These honest terms are far enough to seek. When angry Fortune menaceth decay, My resolution treads a nearer way. Give me the heart conspiring with the hand In such a cause my father to withstand. Is he my father? Why, I am his son: I owe no more to him than he to me. If he proceed as he hath now begun And pass from me the Turkish seigniory To Acomat, then Selimus is free. And if he injure me that am his son, Faith, all the love ’twixt him and me is done. But for I see the schoolmen are prepared To plant gainst me their bookish ordinance, I mean to stand on a sententious guard: And without any far-fetched circumstance, Quickly unfold mine own opinion To arm my heart with irreligion. When first this circled round, this building fair, Some god took out of the confusèd mass (What god I do not know, nor greatly care), Then every man of his own dition was, And everyone his life in peace did pass. War was not then, and riches were not known, And no man said this, or this, is mine own. The plowman with a furrow did not mark How far his great possessions did reach; The earth knew not the share, nor seas the bark; The soldiers entered not the battered breach, Nor trumpets the tantara loud did teach. There needed them no judge, nor yet no law, Nor any king of whom to stand in awe. But after Ninus, warlike Belus’ son, The earth with unknown armor did warray, Then first the sacred name of king begun: And things that were as common as the day Did then to set possessors first obey. Then they established laws and holy rites To maintain peace and govern bloody fights. Then some sage man, above the vulgar wise, Knowing that laws could not in quiet dwell, Unless they were observed, did first devise The names of gods, religion, heaven, and hell, And gan of pains and feigned rewards to tell: Pains for those men which did neglect the law, Rewards for those that lived in quiet awe. Whereas, indeed, they were just mere fictions— And if they were not, Selim thinks they were And these religious observations Only bugbears to keep the world in fear And make men quietly a yoke to bear. So that religion, of itself a bauble, Was only found to make us peaceable. Hence in especial come the foolish names Of father, mother, brother, and such like: For who so well his cogitation frames Shall find they serve but only for to strike Into our minds a certain kind of like. For these names, too, are but a policy To keep the quiet of society. Indeed, I must confess they are not bad Because they keep the baser sort in fear. But we, whose mind in heavenly thoughts is clad, Whose body doth a glorious spirit bear That hath no bounds but flieth everywhere, Why should we seek to make that soul a slave To which dame Nature so large freedom gave? Amongst us men, there is some difference Of actions termèd by us good or ill: As he that doth his father recompence Differs from him that doth his father kill. And yet I think, think others what they will, That parricides, when death hath given them rest, Shall have as good a part as have the best. And that’s just nothing, for as I suppose In Death’s void kingdom reigns eternal Night, Secure of evil and secure of foes, Where nothing doth the wicked man affright, No more than him that dies in doing right. Then since in death nothing shall to us fall, Here while I live I’ll have a snatch at all. And that can never, never be attained, Unless old Bajazeth do die the death. For long enough the graybeard now hath reigned And lived at ease, while others lived uneath. And now it’s time he should resign his breath. ’Twere good for him if he were pressèd out; Twould bring him rest and rid him of his gout. Resolved to do it, cast to compass it Without delay or long procrastination. It argueth an unmanurèd wit, When all is ready for so strong invasion, To draw out time; an unlooked for mutation May soon prevent us if we do delay. Quick speed is good, where wisdom leads the way. —Occhiali? Occhiali My lord. Selimus Lo, fly boy to my father Bajazeth, And tell him Selim, his obedient son, Desires to speak with him and kiss his hands; Tell him I long to see his gracious face And that I come with all my chivalry To chase the Christians from his seigniory. In any wise, say I must speak with him. Exit Occhiali. Now, Sinam, if I speed. Sinam Bassa What then, my lord? Selimus What then? Why, Sinam, thou art nothing worth. I will endeavor to persuade him, man, To give the empire over unto me; Perhaps I shall attain it at his hands. If I cannot, this right hand is resolved To end the period with a fatal stab. Sinam Bassa My gracious lord, give Sinam leave to speak. If you resolve to work your father’s death, You venture life: think you the Janissaries Will suffer you to kill him in their sight And let you pass free without punishment? Selimus If I resolve? As sure as heaven is heaven, I mean to see him dead or myself king. As for the bassas, they are all my friends, And I am sure would pawn their dearest blood That Selim might be Emperor of Turks. Sinam Bassa Yet Acomat and Corcut both survive To be revengèd for their father’s death. Selimus Sinam, if they, or twenty such as they, Had twenty several armies in the field, If Selimus were once your emperor, I’d dart abroad the thunderbolts of war And mow their heartless squadrons to the ground. Sinam Bassa Oh yet, my lord, after your highness’ death, There is a hell and a revenging god. Selimus Tush, Sinam, these are school conditions, To fear the devil or his cursèd dam. Thinkest thou I care for apparitions, Of Sisyphus and of his backward stone, And poor Ixion’s lamentable moan? No, no, I think the cave of damnèd ghosts Is but a tale to terrify young babes, Like devils’ faces scored on painted posts Or feignèd circles in our astrolabes. Why, there’s no difference when we are dead, And death once come, then all alike are sped. Or if there were, as I can scarce believe, A heaven of joy and hell of endless pain, Yet, by my soul, it never should me grieve So I might on the Turkish Empire reign, To enter hell and leave fair heaven’s gain. An empire, Sinam, is so sweet a thing, As I could be a devil to be a king. But go we, lords, and solace in our camp ’Til the return of young Occhiali, And if his answer be to thy desire, Selim, thy mind in kingly thoughts attire. Exeunt all.

Scene 3 Enter Bajazeth, Mustaffa, Cherseoli, Occhiali, and the Janissaries. Bajazeth Even as the great Egyptian crocodile, Wanting his prey, with artificial tears And feignèd plaints his subtle tongue doth file T’entrap the silly wandering traveler And move him to advance his footing near, That when he is in danger of his claws, He may devour him with his famished jaws, So playeth crafty Selimus with me: His haughty thoughts still wait on diadems And not a step but treads to majesty. The Phoenix gazeth on the sun’s bright beams; The echeneis swims against the streams; Nought but the Turkish scepter can him please, And there I know lieth his chief disease. He sends his messengers to crave access And says he longs to kiss my agèd hands: But howsoever he in show profess, His meaning with his words but weakly stands. And sooner will the Syrtis’ boiling sands Become a quiet road for fleeting ships, Than Selimus’s heart agree with Selim’s lips. Too well I know the crocodile’s feignèd tears Are but the nets wherein to catch his prey: Which whoso moved with foolish pity hears Will be the author of his own decay. Then hie thee, Bajazeth, from hence away. A fawning monster is false Selimus, Whose fairest words are most pernicious. Young man, would Selim come and speak with us? What is his message to us, canst thou tell? Occhiali He craves, my lord, another seigniory, Nearer to you and to the Christians, That he may make them know that Selimus Is born to be a scourge unto them all. Bajazeth He’s born to be a scourge to me and mine; He never would have come with such an host, Unless he meant my state to undermine. What though in word he bravely seem to boast The foraging of all the Christian coast, Yet we have cause to fear when burning brands Are vainly given into a madman’s hands. Aside Well, I must seem to wink at his desire, Although I see it plainer than the light. My lenity adds fuel to his fire, Which now begins to break in flashing bright. Then, Bajazeth, chastize his stubborn spirit, Lest these small sparkles grow to such a flame As shall consume thee and thy house’s name. Alas, I spare when all my store is gone And thrust my sickle where the corn is reaped; In vain I send for the physician, When on the patient is his grave dust heaped. In vain, now all his veins in venom steeped Break out in blisters that will poison us, We seek to give him an antidotus. He that will stop the brook must then begin When summer’s heat hath drièd up his spring And when his pittring streams are low and thin. For let the winter aid unto him bring, He grows to be of watry floods the king. And though you dam him up with lofty ranks, Yet will he quickly overflow his banks. —Messenger, go and tell young Selimus We give to him all great Samandria, Bord’ring on Belgrade of Hungaria, Where he may plague those Christian runagates And salve the wounds that they have given our states. Cherseoli, go and provide a gift, A royal present for my Selimus, And tell him, messenger, another time He shall have talk enough with Bajazeth. Exeunt Cherseoli and Occhiali. And now what counsel gives Mustaffa to us? I fear this hasty reck’ning will undo us. Mustaffa Make haste, my lord, from Adrianople walls, And let us fly to fair Byzantium, Lest if your son before you take the town, He may with little labor win the crown. Bajazeth Then do so, good Mustaffa; call our guard And gather all our warlike Janissaries. Our chiefest aid is swift celerity. Then let our wingèd coursers tread the wind, And leave rebellious Selimus behind. Exeunt all.

Scene 4 Enter Selimus, Sinam Bassa, Occhiali, Ottrante, and their soldiers. Selimus And is his answer so, Occhiali? Is Selim such a corsive to his heart That he cannot endure the sight of him? Forsooth, he gives thee all Samandria, From whence our mighty Emperor Mahomet Was driven to his country back with shame. No doubt thy father loves thee, Selimus, To make thee regent of so great a land Which is not yet his own: or if it were, What dangers wait on him that should it steer? Here the Polonian he comes hurtling in Under the conduct of some foreign prince To fight in honor of his crucifix! Here the Hungarian with his bloody cross Deals blows about to win Belgrade again. And after all, forsooth Basilius, The mighty Emperor of Russia Sends in his troops of slave-born Muscovites, And he will share with us or else take all. In giving such a land so full of strife, His meaning is to rid me of my life. Now by the dreaded name of Termagant And by the blackest brook in loathsome hell, Since he is so unnatural to me, I will prove as unnatural as he. Thinks he to stop my mouth with gold or pearl? Or rusty jades fetched from Barbaria? No, let his minion, his philosopher, Acomat and Corcut, be enriched with them. I will not take my rest ’til this right hand Hath pulled the crown from off his coward’s head And on the ground his bastards’ gore-blood shed. Nor shall his flight to old Byzantium Dismay my thoughts which never learned to stoop. March, Sinam. March in order after him. Were his light steeds as swift as Pegasus And trod the airy pavement with their heels, Yet Selimus would overtake them soon. And though the heavens ne’er so crossly frown, In spight of heaven shall Selim wear the crown. Exeunt.

Scene 5 Alarum within. Enter Bajazeth, Mustaffa, Cherseoli, and the Janissaries at one door; Selimus, Sinam Bassa, Ottrante, Occhiali, and their soldiers at another. Bajazeth Is this thy duty, son, unto thy father, So impiously to level at his life? Can thy soul, wallowing in ambitious mire, Seek for to reave that breast with bloody knife, From whence thou hadst thy being, Selimus? Was this the end for which thou joinst thy self With that mischievous traitor Ramirchan? Was this thy drift to speak with Bajazeth? Well hopèd I (But hope, I see, is vain) Thou wouldst have been a comfort to mine age, A scourge and terror to mine enemies, That this thy coming with so great an host Was for no other purpose and intent Than for to chastise those base Christians Which spoil my subjects’ wealth with fire and sword. Well hopèd I the rule of Trebisond Would have increased the valor of thy mind To turn thy strength upon the Persians. But thou, like to a crafty polypus, Dost turn thy hungry jaws upon thyself. For what am I, Selimus, but thyself? When courage first crept in thy manly breast, And thou beganst to rule the martial sword, How oft said thou the sun should change his course, Water should turn to earth, and earth to heaven, Ere thou wouldst prove disloyal to thy father. O Titan, turn thy breathless coursers back, And enterprise thy journey from the West. Blush, Selim, that the world should say of thee, That by my death thou gainst the empiry. Selimus Now let my cause be pleaded, Bajazeth, For father I disdain to call thee now. I took not arms to seize upon thy crown, For that, if once thou hadst been laid in grave, Should sit upon the head of Selimus In spight of Corcut and Acomat. I took not arms to take away thy life: The remnant of thy days is but a span, And foolish had I been to enterprise That which the gout and death would do for me. I took not arms to shed my brothers’ blood Because they stop my passage to the crown. For while thou livst, Selimus is content That they should live, but when thou once art dead Which of them both dares Selimus withstand? I soon should hew their bodies in piecemeal As easy as a man would kill a gnat. But I took arms unkind to honor thee And win again the fame that thou hast lost. And thou thoughtst scorn Selim should speak with thee, But had it been your darling Acomat, You would have met him half the way your self. I am a prince, and though your younger son, Yet are my merits better than both theirs. But you do seek to disinherit me And mean t’invest Acomat with your crown, So he shall have a prince’s due reward That cannot show a scar received in field. We that have fought with mighty Prester John And stripped th’Egyptian Soldan of his camp, Venturing life and living to honor thee, For that same cause shall now dishonored be. Art thou a father? Nay, false Bajazeth, Disclaim the title which thou dost not merit. A father would not thus flee from his son, As thou dost fly from loyal Selimus. A father would not injure thus his son, As thou dost injure loyal Selimus. Then, Bajazeth, prepare thee to the fight; Selimus, once thy son but now thy foe, Will make his fortunes by the sword and shield, And since thou fearst as long as I do live, I’ll also fear, as long as thou dost live. Exit Selimus and his company. Bajazeth My heart is overwhelmed with fear and grief; What dismal comet blazèd at my birth, Whose influence makes my strong unbridled son, Instead of love, to render hate to me? Ah, bassas, if that ever heretofore Your emperor ought his safety unto you, Defend me now gainst my unnatural son: Non timeo mortem: mortis mihi displicet auctor. Exit Bajazeth and his company.

Scene 6 Alarum. Enter Mustaffa and Selimus at diverse doors. Mustaffa beats Selimus in, then Ottrante and Cherseoli enter at diverse doors. Cherseoli Yield thee, Tatarian, or thou shalt die. Upon my sword’s sharp point standeth pale death Ready to rive in two thy caitiff breast. Ottrante Art thou that knight that like a lion fierce, Tiring his stomach on a flock of lambs, Hast broke our ranks and put them clean to flight? Cherseoli Ay, and unless thou look unto thyself, This sword, ne’er drunk in the Tatarian blood, Shall make thy carcass as the outcast dung. Ottrante Nay, I have matched a braver knight than you: Strong Alemshae, thy master’s eldest son, Leaving his body naked on the plains. And Turk, the selfsame end for thee remains. They fight. Ottrante killeth Cherseoli and flieth.

Scene 7 Alarum. Enter Selimus. Selimus Shall Selim’s hope be buried in the dust, And Bajazeth triumph over his fall? Then O, thou blindful mistress of mishap, Chief patronness of Rhamnus’ golden gates, I will advance my strong revenging hand And pluck thee from thy ever-turning wheel. Mars, or Minerva, Mahound, Termagant, Or whosoe’er you are that fight gainst me, Come and but show your selves before my face, And I will rend you all like trembling reeds. Well, Bajazeth, though Fortune smile on thee And deck thy camp with glorious victory, Though Selimus, now conquerèd by thee, Is fain to put his safety in swift flight, Yet so he flies, that like an angry ram, He’ll turn more fiercely than before he came. Exit Selimus.

Scene 8 Enter Bajazeth, Mustaffa, the Janissaries, a soldier with the body of Cherseoli, and Ottrante prisoner. Bajazeth Thus have we gained a bloody victory, And though we are the masters of the field, Yet have we lost more than our enemies. Ah, luckless fault of my Cherseoli, As dear and dearer wert thou unto me Than any of my sons, than mine own self. When I was glad, thy heart was full of joy, And bravely hast thou died for Bajazeth. And though thy bloodless body here do lie, Yet thy sweet soul in heaven forever blest Among the stars enjoys eternal rest. What art thou, warlike man of Tatary, Whose hap it is to be our prisoner? Ottrante I am a prince; Ottrante is my name, Chief captain of the Tatar’s mighty host. Bajazeth Ottrante? Wast not thou that slew my son? Ottrante Ay, and if Fortune had but favored me, Had sent the sire to keep him company. Bajazeth Off with his head and spoil him of his arms, And leave his body for the airy birds. Exit one with Ottrante. The unrevengèd ghost of Alemshae Shall now no more wander on Stygian banks But rest in quiet in th’Elysian fields. Mustaffa and you worthy men-at-arms That left not Bajazeth in greatest need, When we arrive at Constantine’s great tower, You shall be honored of your emperor. Exeunt all.

Scene 9 Enter Acomat, Visir, Regan, and a band of soldiers. Acomat Perhaps you wonder why prince Acomat, Delighting heretofore in foolish love, Hath changed his quiet to a soldier’s state And turned the dulcet tunes of Hymen’s song Into Bellona’s horrible outcries. You think it strange, that whereas I have lived Almost a votary to wantonness, To see me now lay off effeminate robes And arm my body in an iron wall. I have enjoyed quiet for long enough And surfeited with pleasure’s surquidry; A field of dainties I have passèd through And been a champion to fair Cytheria. Now, since this idle peace hath wearied me, I’ll follow Mars and war another while And dye my shield in dolorous vermeil. My brother Selim, through his manly deeds, Hath lifted up his fame unto the skies, While we, like earthworms lurking in the weeds, Do live inglorious in all men’s eyes. What lets me from this vain slumber rising And by strong hand achieve eternal glory That may be talked of in all memory? And see how Fortune favors mine intent: Heard you not, lordings, how prince Selimus Against our royal father armèd went, And how the Janissaries made him flee To Ramir, Emperor of Tatary? This his rebellion greatly profits me, For I shall sooner win my father’s mind To yield me up the Turkish empiry, Which if I have, I am sure I shall find Strong enemies to pull me down again That fain would have prince Selimus to reign. Then civil discord and contentious war Will follow Acomat’s coronation. Selim, no doubt, will broach seditious jar, And Corcut, too, will seek for alteration. Now, to prevent all sudden perturbation, We thought it good to muster up our power That danger may not take it unprovided. Visir I like your highness’ resolution well, For these should be the chief arts of a king: To punish those that furiously rebel And honor those that sacred counsel bring; To make good laws, ill customs to expel; To nourish peace from whence your riches spring; And when good quarrels call you to the field, T’excel your men in handling spear and shield. Thus shall the glory of your matchless name Be registered up in immortal lines. Whereas that prince that follows lustful game, And to fond toys his captive mind inclines, Shall never ’pass the temple of true fame, Whose worth is greater than the Indian mines. But is your grace assurèd certainly That Bajazeth doth favor your request? Perhaps you may make him your enemy; You know how much your father doth detest Stout obedience and obstinancy. I speak not this as if I thought it best Your highness should your right in it neglect, But that you might be close and circumspect. Acomat We thank thee, Visir, for thy loving care. As for my father Bajazeth’s affection, Unless his holy vows forgotten are, I shall be sure of it by his election. But after Acomat’s erection, We must forecast what things be necessary, Lest that our kingdom be too momentary. Regan First let my lord be seated in his throne, Installèd by great Bajazeth’s consent. As yet your harvest is not fully grown But in the green and unripe blade is pent: But when you once have got the regiment, Then may your lords more easily provide Against all accidents that may betide. Acomat Then set we forward to Byzantium, That we may know what Bajazeth intends. Aside Advise thee, Acomat, what’s best to do. The Janissaries favor Selimus, And they are strong undaunted enemies, Which will in arms gainst thy election rise. Then will them to thy will with precious gifts And store of gold: a timely largition The steadfast persons from their purpose lifts. But then beware lest Bajazeth’s affection Change into hatred by such premunition, For then he will think that I am factious And imitate my brother Selimus. Besides, a prince his honor doth debase That begs the common soldiers’ suffrages, And if the bassas knew I sought their grace, It would the more increase their insolence. To resist them were overhardiness, And worse it were to leave my enterprise. Well, howsoe’er, resolve to venture it; Fortune doth favor every bold assay, And ’twere a trick of an unsettled wit, Because the bees have stings with them alway, To fear our mouths in honey to embay. Then resolution for me leads the dance, And thus resolved, I mean to try my chance. Exeunt all.

Scene 10 Enter Bajazeth, Mustaffa, Cali Bassa, Hali Bassa, and the Janissaries. Bajazeth What prince soe’er trusts to his mighty pow’r, Ruling the reins of so many nations, And feareth not lest fickle Fortune lour And thinks his kingdom free from alterations. If he were in the place of Bajazeth, He would but little by his scepter set. For what hath rule that makes it acceptable? Rather, what hath it not worthy of hate? First of all is our state still mutable And our continuance at the people’s rate, So that it is a slender thread whereon Depends the honor of a prince’s throne. Then do we fear, more than the child newborn, Our friends, our lords, our subjects, and our sons. Thus is our mind in sundry pieces torn By care, by fear, suspicion, and distrust. In wine, in meat, we fear pernicious poison; At home, abroad, we fear seditious treason. Too true that tyrant Dionysus Did picture out the image of a king When Damocles was placèd in his throne, And o’er his head a threatning sword did hang, Fastened up only by a horse’s hair. Our chiefest trust is secretly distrust, For whom have we whom we may safely trust, If our own sons, neglecting awful duty, Rise up in arms against their loving fathers? Their heart is all of hardest marble wrought That can lay wait to take away their breath, From whom they first did suck this vital air. My heart is heavy, and I needs must sleep. Bassas, withdraw yourselves from me awhile That I may rest my overburdened soul. They stand aside while the curtains are drawn. Eunuchs play me some music while I sleep. Music within. Mustaffa Good Bajazeth, who would not pity thee, Whom thine own son so vilely persecutes? More mildly do th’unreasonable beasts Deal with their dams than Selimus with thee. Hali Bassa Mustaffa, we are princes of the land And love our emperor as well as thou: Yet will we not for pitying his estate, Suffer our foes our wealth to ruinate. If Selim have played false with Bajazeth, And overslipped the duty of a son, Why, he was moved by just occasion. Did he not humbly send his messenger To crave access unto his majesty? And yet he could not get permission To kiss his hands and speak his mind to him. Perhaps he thought his agèd father’s love Was clean estranged from him, and Acomat Should reap the fruit that he had labored for. ’Tis lawful for the father to take arms, Ay, and by death chastise his rebel son. Why should it be unlawful for the son To levy arms gainst his injurious sire? Mustaffa You reason, Hali, like a sophister, As if ’twere lawful for a subject prince To rise in arms against his sovereign Because he will not let him have his will, Much less is’t lawful for a man’s own son. If Bajazeth had injured Selimus, Or sought his death, or done him some abuse, Then Selim’s cause had been more tolerable. But Bajazeth did never injure him, Nor sought his death, nor once abusèd him, Unless because he gives him not the crown, Being the youngest of his highness’ sons. Gave he not him an empire for his part, The mighty empire of great Trebisond? So that if all things rightly be observed, Selim had more than ever he deserved. I speak not this because I hate the prince, For by the heavens I love young Selim, Better than either of his brethren, But for I owe allegiance to my king And love him much that favors me so much. Mustaffa, while old Bajazeth doth live, Will be as true to him as to himself. Cali Bassa Why, brave Mustaffa, Hali and myself Were never false unto his majesty. Our father Hali died in the field Against the Sophy in his highness’ wars, And we will never be degenerate. Nor do we take part with Prince Selimus Because we would depose old Bajazeth, But for because we would not Acomat That leads his life still in lascivious pomp, Nor Corcut, though he be a man of worth, Should be commander of our empire. For he that never saw his foeman’s face But always slept upon a lady’s lap, Will scant endure to lead a soldier’s life. And he that never handled but his pen Will be unskillful at the warlike lance. Indeed, his wisdom well may guide the crown And keep that safe his predecessors got: But being given to peace as Corcut is, He never will enlarge the empire, So that the rule and power over us Is only fit for valiant Selimus. Mustaffa Princes, you know how mighty Bajazeth Hath honorèd Mustaffa with his love. He gave his daughter, beauteous Solyma, To be the sovereign mistress of my thoughts. He made me captain of the Janissaries, And too unnatural should Mustaffa be To rise against him in his dying age. Yet know, you warlike peers, Mustaffa is A loyal friend unto Prince Selimus, And ere his other brethren get the crown, For his sake, I myself will pull them down. I love, I love them dearly, but the love Which I do bear unto my country’s good Makes me a friend to noble Selimus, Only let Bajazeth while he doth live Enjoy in peace the Turkish diadem. When he is dead and laid in quiet grave, Then none but Selimus our help shall have. Sound within. A Messenger enters. Curtains are opened. Bajazeth awaketh. Bajazeth How now, Mustaffa; what news have we there? Is Selim up in arms gainst me again? Or is the Sophy entered our confines? Hath the Egyptian snatched his crown again? Or have the uncontrollèd Christians Unsheathed their swords to make more war on us? Such news or none will come to Bajazeth. Mustaffa My gracious lord, here’s an ambassador Come from your son the Soldan Acomat. Bajazeth From Acomat? Oh, let him enter in. Enter Regan. Ambassador, how fares our loving son? Regan Mighty commander of the warlike Turks, Acomat, Soldan of Amasya, Greeteth your grace by me his messenger. He gives him a letter. And ’gratulates your highness’ good success, Wishing good fortune may befall you still. Bajazeth Mustaffa, read. He gives the letter to Mustaffa and speaks the rest to himself. Aside Acomat craves thy promise, Bajazeth, To give the empire up into his hands And make it sure to him in thy lifetime. And thou shalt have it, lovely Acomat, For I have been encumbered long enough And vexèd with the cares of kingly rule. Now, let the trouble of the empiry Be buried in the bosom of thy son. Ah, Acomat, if thou have such a reign So full of sorrow as thy father’s was, Thou wilt accurse the time, the day, and hour In which thou was established emperor. Sound. Enter a messenger from Corcut. —Yet more news? Messenger Long live the mighty Emperor Bajazeth. Corcut, the Soldan of Magnesia, Hearing of Selim’s worthy overthrow And of the coming of young Acomat, Doth certify your majesty by me How joyful he is of your victory. And therewithal he humbly doth require Your grace would do him justice in his cause. His brethren both, unworthy such a father, Do seek the empire while your grace doth live, And that by indirect sinister means. But Corcut, mind free from ambitious thoughts And trusting to the goodness of his cause, Joinèd unto your highness’ tender love, Only desires your grace should not invest Selim nor Acomat in the diadem, Which appertaineth unto him by right, But keep it to yourself the while you live. And when it shall the great creator please, Who hath the spirits of all men in his hands, Shall call your highness to your latest home, Then will he also sue to have his right. Bajazeth Aside Like to a ship sailing without the stars, Whom waves do toss one way and winds another, Both without ceasing, even so my poor heart Endures a combat betwixt love and right. The love I bear to my dear Acomat Commands me give my suffrage unto him, But Corcut’s title, being my eldest son, Bids me recall my hand and give it him. Acomat, he would have it in my life, But gentle Corcut, like a loving son, Desires me live and die an emperor And at my death bequeath my crown to him. Ah, Corcut, thou I see lovst me indeed; Selimus sought to thrust me down by force, And Acomat seeks the kingdom in my life, And both of them are grieved thou liv’st so long. But Corcut numbreth not my days as they; Oh, how much dearer loves he me then they. —Bassas, how counsel you your emperor? Mustaffa My gracious lord, myself will speak for all, For all, I know, are minded as I am. Your highness knows the Janissaries’ love, How firm they mean to cleave to your behest, As well you might perceive in that sad fight When Selim set upon you in your flight. Then we do all desire you on our knees To keep the crown and scepter to your self. How grievous will it be unto your thoughts, If you should give the crown to Acomat, To see the brethren disinherited To flesh their anger one upon another And rend the bowels of this mighty realm. Suppose that Corcut would be well content, Yet thinks your grace, if Acomat were king, That Selim ere long would join league with him? Nay, he would break from forth his Trebisond And waste the empire all with fire and sword. Ah, then too weak would be poor Acomat To stand against his brother’s great puissance Or save himself from his enhancèd hand, While Ismael and the cruel Persians And the great Soldan of th’Egyptians Would smile to see our force dismembered so. Ay, and perchance the neighbor Christians Would take occasion to thrust out their heads. All this may be prevented by your grace, If you will yield to Corcut’s just request And keep the kingdom to you while you live. Meantime, we that your grace’s subjects are May make us strong to fortify the man Whom at your death your grace shall choose as king. Bajazeth O, how thou speakest ever like thyself, Loyal Mustaffa: well were Bajazeth If all his sons did bear such love to him. Though loth I am longer to wear the crown, Yet for I see it is my subjects’ will, Once more will Bajazeth be emperor. But we must send to pacify our son, Or he will storm as erst did Selimus. Come, let us go unto our counsel, lords, And there consider what is to be done. Exeunt all.

Scene 11 Enter Acomat, Regan, Visir, and his soldiers. Acomat reads letter and then rents it. Acomat Thus will I rend the crown from off thy head, False-hearted and injurious Bajazeth, To mock thy son that lovèd thee so dear. What? For because the head-strong Janissaries Would not consent to honor Acomat, And their base bassas, vowed to Selimus, Thought me unworthy of the Turkish crown? Should he be ruled and overruled by them, Under pretence of keeping it himself, To wipe me clean forever being king? Doth he esteem so much the bassas’ words And prize their favor at so high a rate That for to gratify their stubborn minds He casts away all care and all respects Of duty, promise, and religious oaths? Now by the holy prophet Mahomet, Chief president and patron of the Turks, I mean to challenge now my right by arms And win by sword that glorious dignity Which he injuriously detains from me. Haply, he thinks because that Selimus, Rebutted by his warlike Janissaries, Was fain to fly in haste from whence he came That Acomat, by his example moved, Will fear to manage arms against his sire. Or that my life, forepassed in pleasure’s court, Promises weak resistance in the fight. But he shall know that I can use my sword And like a lion seize upon my prey. If ever Selim moved him heretofore, Acomat means to move him ten times more. Visir ’Twere good your grace would to Amasya And there increase your camp with fresh supply. Acomat Visir, I am impatient of delay, And since my father hath incensed me thus, I’ll quench those kindled flames with his heart blood. Not like a son but a most cruel foe Will Acomat henceforth be unto him. March to Natolia; there we will begin And make a preface to our massacres. My nephew Mahomet, son to Alemshae, Departed lately from Iconium, Is lodgèd there, and he shall be the first Whom I will sacrifice unto my wrath. Exeunt all.

Scene 12 Enter the young Prince Mahomet, the Beylerbey of Natolia, and one or two soldiers. Mahomet Lord Governor, what think you best to do? If we receive the Soldan Acomat, Who knoweth not but his bloodthirsty sword Shall be embowellèd in our countrymen. You know he is displeased with Bajazeth And will rebel, as Selim did tofore, And would to God with Selim’s overthrow. You know his angry heart hath vowed revenge On all the subjects of his father’s land. Beylerbey Young prince, thy uncle seeks to have thy life Because by right the Turkish crown is thine. Save thou thyself by flight or otherwise, And we will make resistance as we can. Like an Armenian tiger that hath lost Her lovèd whelps, so raveth Acomat: And we must be subject unto his rage, But you may live to venge your citizens. Then fly, good prince, before your uncle come. Mahomet Nay, good my lord, never shall it be said That Mahomet, the son of Alemshae, Fled from his citizens for fear of death, But I will stay and help to fight for you, And if you needs must die, I’ll die with you. And I among the rest with forward hand Will help to kill a common enemy. Exeunt all.

Scene 13 Enter Acomat, Visir, Regan, and soldiers. Acomat Now, fair Natolia, shall thy stately walls Be overthrown and beaten to the ground. My heart within me for revenge still calls. Why, Bajazeth, thoughtst thou that Acomat Would put up such a monstrous injury? Then had I brought my chivalry in vain And to no purpose drawn my conquering blade, Which now unsheathed shall not be sheathed again ’Til it a world of bleeding souls hath made. Poor Mahomet, thou thoughtst thyself too sure In thy strong city of Iconium To plant thy forces in Natolia, Weakened so much before by Selim’s sword. Summon a parley to the citizens That they may hear the dreadful words I speak And die in thought before they come to blows. Enter all to a parley, Mahomet, the Beylerbey of Natolia, and soldiers on the walls. Mahomet What craves our uncle Acomat of us? Acomat That thou and all the city yield themselves, Or by the holy rites of Mahomet, His wondrous tomb and sacred Alcoran, You all shall die: and not a common death, But e’en as monstrous as I can devise. Mahomet Uncle, if I may call you by that name, Which cruelly hunt for your nephew’s blood, You do us wrong thus to besiege our town That ne’er deserved such hatred at your hands, Being your friends and kinsmen as we are. Acomat In that thou wrongst me that thou art my kin. Mahomet Why, I am thy nephew; doest thou frown? Acomat Ay, that thou art so near unto the crown. Mahomet Why, uncle, I resign my right to thee, And all my title were it ne’er so good. Acomat Wilt thou? Then know assuredly from me, I’ll seal the resignation with thy blood: Though Alemshae, thy father, loved me well, Yet Mahomet, his son, shall down to hell. Mahomet Why, uncle, doth my life put you in fear? Acomat It shall not, nephew, since I have you here. Mahomet When I am dead, more hinderers shalt thou find. Acomat When one’s cut off, the fewer are behind. Mahomet Yet think the gods do bear an equal eye. Acomat Faith, if they all were squint-eyed, what care I. Mahomet Then, Acomat, know we will rather die, Than yield us up into a tyrant’s hand. Acomat Beshrew me, but you be the wiser, Mahomet, For if I do but catch you, boy, alive, ’Twere better for you run through Phlegethon. Sirs, scale the walls and pull the caitiffs down! I give to you the spoil of all the town. Alarum. They scale the walls. Exit all above. Reenter Acomat, Visir, and Regan with Mahomet. Acomat Now youngster, you that bravst us on the walls, And shook your plumèd crest against our shield, What wouldst thou give, or what wouldst thou not give, That thou wert far enough from Acomat? How like the villain is to Bajazeth. Well, nephew, for thy father loved me well, I will not deal extremely with his son: Then hear a brief compendium of thy death. Regan, go cause a grove of steelhead spears Be pitchèd thick under the castle wall, And on them let this youthful captain fall. Mahomet Thou shalt not fear me, Acomat, with death, Nor will I beg my pardon at thy hands. But as thou givst me such a monstrous death, So do I freely leave to thee my curse. Exit Regan with Mahomet. Acomat O, that will serve to fill my father’s purse. Alarum. Enter a soldier with Zonara, sister to Mahomet. Zonara Ah, pardon me, dear uncle; pardon me. Acomat No, minion, you are too near kin to me. Zonara If ever pity enterèd thy breast, Or ever thou wast touched with woman’s love, Sweet uncle, spare wretched Zonara’s life. Thou once wast noted for a quiet prince, Soft-hearted, mild, and gentle as a lamb. Ah, do not prove a lion unto me. Acomat Why wouldst thou live, when Mahomet is dead? Zonara Ah, who slew Mahomet? Uncle, did you? Acomat He that’s prepared to do as much for you. Zonara Dost thou not pity Alemshae in me? Acomat Yes, that he wants so long thy company. Zonara Thou art not, false groom, son to Bajazeth; He would relent to hear a woman weep, But thou wast born in desert Caucasus, And the Hyrcanian tigers gave thee suck, Knowing thou wert a monster like themselves. Acomat Let you her thus to rate us? Strangle her. They strangle her. Now scour the streets, and leave not one alive To carry these sad news to Bajazeth, That all the citizens may dearly say This day was fatal to Natolia. Exeunt all.

Scene 14 Enter Bajazeth, Mustaffa, Aga, and the Janissaries. Bajazeth Mustaffa, if my mind deceive me not, Some strange misfortune is not far from me. I was not wont to tremble in this sort. Methinks I feel a cold run through my bones, As if it hastened to surprise my heart. Methinks some voice still whispereth in my ears And bids me to take heed of Acomat. Mustaffa ’Tis but your highness’ overchargèd mind, Which feareth most the things it least desires. Enter two soldiers with the Beylerbey of Natolia in a chair, and the bodies of Mahomet and Zonara in two coffins. Bajazeth Ah, sweet Mustaffa, thou art much deceived; My mind presages me some future harm, And lo, what doleful exequy is here. Our chief commander of Natolia? What caitiff hand is it hath wounded thee? And who are these covered in tomb-black hearse? Beylerbey These are thy nephews, mighty Bajazeth, The son and daughter of good Alemshae, Whom cruel Acomat hath murderèd thus. These eyes beheld when from an ayrie tower They hurled the body of young Mahomet, Whereas a band of armèd soldiers, Received him falling on their spears’ sharp points. His sister, poor Zonara, luckless maid, Entreating life and not obtaining it, Was strangled by his barbarous soldiers. Bajazeth falls in a swoon and then recovers. Bajazeth Oh, you dispensers of our hapless breath, Why do you glut your eyes and take delight To see sad pageants of men’s miseries? Wherefore have you prolonged my wretched life, To see my son, my dearest Acomat, To lift his hands against his father’s life? Ah, Selimus, now do I pardon thee, For thou didst set upon me manfully, And moved by an occasion, though unjust. But Acomat, injurious Acomat, Is ten times more unnatural to me. Hapless Zonara, hapless Mahomet, The poor remainder of my Alemshae, Which of you both shall Bajazeth most wail? Ah, both of you are worthy to be wailed. Happily dealt the froward Fates with thee, Good Alemshae, for thou didst die in field, And so prevented this sad spectacle, Pitiful spectacle of sad dreariment, Pitiful spectacle of dismal death. But I have lived to see thee, Alemshae, By Tatar pirates all in pieces torn, To see young Selim’s disobedience, To see the death of Alemshae’s poor seed, And last of all to see my Acomat Prove a rebellious enemy to me. Beylerbey Ah, cease your tears, unhappy Emperor, And shed not all for your poor nephews’ death. Six thousand of true-hearted citizens In fair Natolia Acomat hath slain. The channels run like riverets of blood, And I escaped with this poor company, Bemangled and dismembered as you see, To be the messenger of these sad news. And now mine eyes, fast swimming in pale death, Bid me resign my breath unto the heavens; Death doth stand before, ready for to strike. Farewell, dear Emperor, and revenge our loss, As ever thou dost hope for happiness. He dies. Bajazeth Avernus’ jaws and loathsome Taenarus, From whence the damnèd ghosts do often creep Back to the world to punish wicked men, Black Demogorgon, grandfather of night, Send out thy Furies from thy fiery hall, The pitiless Erinyes armed with whips, And all the damnèd monsters of black hell To pour their plagues on cursèd Acomat. How shall I mourn, or which way shall I turn To pour my tears upon my dearest friends? Couldst thou induce false-hearted Acomat To kill thy nephew and his sister thus, And wound to death so valiant a lord? And will you not, you all-beholding heavens, Dart down on him your piercing lightning brand, Enrolled in sulphur and consuming flames? Ah, do not Jove; Acomat is my son And may perhaps by counsel be reclaimed And brought to filial obedience. Aga, thou art a man of perceant wit; Go thou and talk with my son Acomat And see if he will any way relent. Speak him fair, Aga, lest he kill thee too. And we, my lords, will in and mourn awhile Over these princes’ lamentable tombs. Exeunt all.

Scene 15 Enter Acomat, Visir, Regan, and their soldiers. Acomat As Tityus in the country of the dead, With restless cries doth call upon high Jove, The while the vulture tireth on his heart, So, Acomat, revenge still gnaws thy soul. I think my soldiers’ hands have been too slow In shedding blood and murd’ring innocents. I think my wrath hath been too patient, Since civil blood quencheth not out the flames Which Bajazeth hath kindled in my heart. Visir My gracious lord, here is a messenger Just sent from your father the emperor. Enter Aga and one with him. Acomat Let him come in. Aga, what news with you? Aga Great Prince, thy father mighty Bajazeth Wonders why your grace, whom he loved so much And thought to leave possessor of the crown, Would thus requite his love with mortal hate, To kill thy nephews with revenging sword And massacre his subjects in such sort. Acomat Aga, my father, traitorous Bajazeth, Detains the crown injuriously from me, Which I will have if all the world say nay. I am not like the unmanurèd land, Which answers not his Honor’s greedy mind. I sow not seeds upon the barren sand: A thousand ways can Acomat soon find To gain my will, which if I cannot gain, Then purple blood my angry hands shall stain. Aga Acomat, yet learn by Selimus, That hasty purposes have hated ends. Acomat Tush, Aga, Selim was not wise enough To set upon the head at the first brunt. He should have done as I do mean to do: Fill all the confines with fire, sword, and blood, Burn up the fields and overthrow whole towns, And when he had endamagèd that way Then tear the old man piecemeal with his teeth And color his strong hands with his gore-blood. Aga Oh see, my lord, how fell ambition Deceives your senses and bewitches you: Could you unkind perform so foul a deed As kill the man that first gave life to you? Do you not fear the people’s adverse fame? Acomat It is the greatest glory of a king When, though his subjects hate his wicked deeds, Yet are they forced to bear them all with praise. Aga Whom fear constrains to praise their prince’s deeds, That fear eternal hatred in them feeds. Acomat He knows not how to sway the kingly mace That loves to be great in his people’s grace: The surest ground for kings to build upon Is to be feared and cursed of everyone. What though the world of nations me hate? Hate is peculiar to a prince’s state. Aga Where there’s no shame, no care of holy law, No faith, no justice, no integrity, That state is full of mutability. Acomat Bare faith, pure virtue, poor integrity Are ornaments fit for a private man; Beseems a prince for to do all he can. Aga Yet know it is a sacrilegious will To slay thy father were he ne’er so ill. Acomat ’Tis lawful, graybeard, for to do to him What ought not to be done unto a father. Hath he not wiped me from the Turkish crown? Preferred he not the stubborn Janissaries And did hear the bassas’ stout petitions Before he would give ear to my request? As sure as day, mine eyes shall ne’er taste sleep Before my sword have riven his perjured breast. Aga Ah, let me never live to see that day. Acomat Yes, thou shalt live but never see that day, Wanting the tapers that should give thee light: Acomat pulls out his eyes. Thou shalt not see so great felicity, When I shall rend out Bajazeth’s dim eyes And by his death install myself a king. Aga Ah, thou cruel tyrant and unmerciful, More bloody than the anthropophagi That fill their hungry stomachs with man’s flesh, Thou shouldst have slain me, barbarous Acomat, Not leave me in so comfortless a life To live on earth and never see the sun. Acomat Nay, let him die that liveth at his ease; Death would a wretched caitiff greatly please. Aga And thinkst thou then to scape unpunishèd? No, Acomat, though both mine eyes be gone, Yet are my hands left on to murder thee. Acomat ’Twas well remembered: Regan cut them off. They cut off his hands and give them to Acomat. Now, in that sort go tell thy emperor That if himself had but been in thy place I would have used him crueller than thee. Here take thy hands: I know thou lovst them well. Acomat opens Aga’s bosom and puts them in. Which hand is this? Right? Or left? Canst thou tell? Aga I know not which it is, but ’tis my hand. But O, thou supreme architect of all, First mover of those tenfold crystal orbs, Where all those moving and unmoving eyes Behold thy goodness everlastingly, See, unto thee I lift these bloody arms, For hands I have not for to lift to thee; And in thy justice dart thy smold’ring flame Upon the head of cursèd Acomat. O, cruel heavens and injurious Fates, Even the last refuge of a wretched man Is took from me: for how can Aga weep Or rain a brinish show’r of pearlèd tears, Wanting the watry cisterns of his eyes? Come, lead me back again to Bajazeth, The woefullest and saddest ambassador That ever was dispatched to any king. Acomat Why so, this music pleases Acomat. And would I had my doting father here, I would rip up his breast and rend his heart, Into his bowels thrust my angry hands, As willingly, and with as good a mind, As I could be the Turkish emperor. And by the clear declining vault of heaven, Whither the souls of dying men do flee, Either I mean to die the death myself Or make that old false faitour bleed his last, For death no sorrow could unto me bring, So Acomat might die the Turkish king. Exeunt all.

Scene 16 Enter Bajazeth, Mustaffa, Cali Bassa, Hali Bassa, and Aga, led by a soldier and kneeling before Bajazeth and holding his legs. Aga Is this the body of my sovereign? Are these the sacred pillars that support The image of true magnanimity? Ah, Bajazeth, thy son false Acomat Is full resolved to take thy life from thee. ’Tis true; ’tis true; witness these handless arms. Witness these empty lodges of mine eyes. Witness the gods that from the highest heaven Beheld the tyrant with remorseless heart Pull out mine eyes and cut off my weak hands. Witness that sun, whose golden-colored beams Your eyes do see, but mine can ne’er behold. Witness the earth that suckèd up my blood, Streaming in rivers from my trunkèd arms. Witness the present that he sends to thee. Open my bosom; there you shall it see. Mustaffa opens Aga’s bosom and takes out his hands. Those are the hands which Aga once did use To toss the spear and in a warlike gyre To hurtle my sharp sword about my head. Those sends he to the woeful emperor, With purpose so to cut thy hands from thee. Why is my sovereign silent all this while? Bajazeth Ah, Aga, Bajazeth fain would speak to thee, But sudden sorrow eateth up my words. Bajazeth, Aga, fain would weep for thee, But cruel sorrow drieth up my tears. Bajazeth, Aga, fain would die for thee, But grief hath weakened my poor agèd hands. How can he speak, whose tongue sorrow hath tied? How can he mourn, that cannot shed a tear? How shall he live, that full of misery Calleth for death which will not let him die? Mustaffa Let women weep, let children pour forth tears, And cowards spend time in bootless moan. We’ll load the earth with such a mighty host Of Janissaries, stern-born sons of Mars, That Phoeb’ shall fly and hide him in the clouds For fear our javelins thrust him from his wain. Old Aga was a prince among your lords; His counsels always were true oracles, And shall he thus unmanly be misused And he unpunishèd that did the deed? Shall Mahomet and poor Zonara’s ghosts And the good governor of Natolia Wander in Stygian meadows unrevenged? Good Emperor, stir up thy manly heart, And send forth all thy warlike Janissaries To chastise that rebellious Acomat. Thou knowst we cannot fight without a guide, And he must be one of the royal blood, Sprung from the loins of mighty Ottoman. And who remains now but young Selimus? So please your grace to pardon his offence, And make him captain of th’imperial host. Bajazeth Ay, good Mustaffa, send for Selimus, So I may be revenged I care not how. The worst that can befall me is but death; ’Tis that would end my woeful misery. Selimus, he must work me this good turn. I cannot kill myself; he’ll do’t for me. Come, Aga. Thou and I will weep the while: Thou for thy eyes and loss of both thy hands, I for th’unkindness of my Acomat. Exeunt all.

Scene 17 Enter Selimus and a messenger with a letter from Bajazeth. Selimus Will Fortune favor me yet once again? And will she thrust the cards into my hands? Well, if I chance but once to get the deck, To deal about and shuffle as I would, Let Selim never see the daylight spring, Unless I shuffle out myself a king. Friend, let me see thy letter once again That I may read these reconciling lines. Reads the letter. Thou hast a pardon, Selim, granted thee. Mustaffa and the forward Janissaries Have sued to thy father Bajazeth That thou mayst be their captain general Against th’attempts of Soldan Acomat. Why, that’s the thing that I requested most: That I might once th’imperial army lead. And since it’s offered me so willingly, Beshrew me but I’ll take their courtesy. Soft, let me see, is there no policy T’entrap poor Selimus in this device? It may be that my father fears me yet, Lest I should once again rise up in arms, And, like Antaeus quelled by Hercules, Gather new forces by my overthrow; And therefore sends for me under pretence Of this and that: but when he hath me there, He’ll make me sure for putting him in fear. Distrust is good when there’s cause of distrust. Read it again; perchance thou dost mistake. Read. Oh, here’s Mustaffa’s signet set thereto. Then, Selim, cast all foolish fear aside, For he’s a prince that favors thy estate And hateth treason worse than death itself. And hardly can I think he could be brought, If there were treason, to subscribe his name. Come, friend; the cause requires we should be gone. Now, once again have at the Turkish throne. Exit both.

Scene 18 Enter Bajazeth leading Aga, Mustaffa, Hali Bassa, Cali Bassa, Selimus, and the Janissaries. Bajazeth Come, mournful Aga; come and sit by me. Thou hast been sorely grieved for Bajazeth, Good reason then that he should grieve for thee. Give me thy arm. Though thou hast lost thy hands And livst as a poor exile in this light, Yet hast thou won the heart of Bajazeth. Aga Your grace’s words are very comfortable, And well can Aga bear his grievous loss, Since it was for so good a prince’s sake. Selimus Father, if I may call thee by that name, Whose life I aimed at with rebellious sword, In all humility thy reformèd son Offers himself into your grace’s hands And at your feet layeth his bloody sword, Which he advanced against your majesty. He lays down his sword. If my offence do seem so odious That I deserve not longer time to live, Behold, I open unto you my breast, Ready prepared to die at your command. He bares his breast. But if repentance in an unfeignèd heart And sorrow for my grievous crime forepassed May merit pardon at your princely hands, Behold where poor inglorious Selimus Upon his knees begs pardon of your grace. Bajazeth Stand up, my son. I joy to hear thee speak But more to hear thou art so well reclaimed. Thy crime was ne’er so odious unto me, But thy reformèd life and humble thoughts Are thrice as pleasing to my agèd spirit. Selim, we here pronounce thee by our will Chief general of the warlike Janissaries. Go lead them out against false Acomat, Which hath so grievously rebelled gainst me. Spare him not, Selim. Though he be my son, Yet do I now clean disinherit him As common enemy to me and mine. Selimus May Selim live to show how dutiful And loving he will be to Bajazeth. Aside So now doth Fortune smile on me again, And in regard of former injuries, Offer to me millions of diadems. I smile to see how that the good old man Thinks Selim’s thoughts are brought to such an ebb As he hath cast off all ambitious hope. But soon shall that opinion be removed, For if I once get mongst the Janissars, Then on my head the golden crown shall sit. Well, Bajazeth, I fear me thou wilt grieve, That e’er thou didst thy feigning son believe. Exit Selimus with all the rest, save Bajazeth and Aga. Bajazeth Now, Aga, all the thoughts that troubled me Do rest within the center of my heart, And thou shalt shortly joy as much with me, When Acomat by Selim’s consuming sword Shall leese that ghost which made thee lose thy sight. Aga Ah, Bajazeth, Aga looks not for revenge But will pour out his prayers to the heavens That Acomat may learn by Selimus To yield himself up to his father’s grace. Sound within. "Long live Selimus, Emperor of Turks!" Enter Mustaffa. Bajazeth How now, what sudden triumph have we here? Mustaffa Ah, gracious lord, the captains of the host With one assent have crowned Prince Selimus, And here he comes with all the Janissaries To crave his confirmation at thy hands. Enter Cali Bassa, Selimus, Hali Bassa, Sinam Bassa, and the Janissaries. Sinam Bassa Bajazeth, we, the captains of thy host, Knowing thy weak and too unwieldy age Unable is longer to govern us, Have chosen Selimus, thy younger son, That he may be our leader and our guide Against the Sophy and his Persians, Gainst the victorious Soldan Tonombey. There wants but thy consent, which we will have Or hew thy body piecemeal with our swords. Bajazeth Needs must I give what is already gone. He takes off his crown. Here, Selimus, thy father Bajazeth, Wearied with cares that wait upon a king, Resigns the crown as willingly to thee As e’er my father gave it unto me. Bajazeth sets it on his head. All Long live Selimus, Emperor of Turks! Bajazeth Live thou a long and a victorious reign And be triumpher of thine enemies. Aga and I will to Dimoticum And live in peace the remnant of our days. Exit Bajazeth and Aga. Selimus Now, sit I like the arm-strong son of Jove, When, after he had all his monsters quelled, He was received in heaven ’mongst the gods And had fair Hebe for his lovely bride. As many labors Selimus hath had And now at length attainèd to the crown. This is my Hebe, and this is my heaven. Bajazeth goeth to Dimoticum, And there he purposes to live at ease, But, Selimus, as long as he’s on earth, Thou shalt not sleep in rest without some broil, For Bajazeth is unconstant as the wind. To make that sure I have a platform laid: Bajazet hath with him a cunning Jew, Professing physic, and so skilled therein, As if he had pow’r over life and death. Withal, a man so stout and resolute That he will venture any thing for gold. This Jew with some intoxicated drink Shall poison Bajazeth and that blind lord; Then one of Hydra’s heads is clean cut off. Go some and fetch here Abraham the Jew. Exit one for Abraham. Corcut, thy pageant next is to be played, For though he be a grave philosopher, Given to read Mahomet’s dreaded laws, And Razi’s toys, and Avicenna’s drugs, Yet he may have a longing for the crown. Besides, he may by devilish necromancy Procure my death or work my overthrow; The devil still is ready to do harm. Hali, you and your brother presently Shall with an army to Magnesia; There you shall find the scholar at his book. And hearest thou, Hali? Do strangle him. Exeunt Hali Bassa and Cali Bassa. Corcut once dead, then Acomat remains, Whose death will make me certain of the crown. These heads of Hydra are the principal; When these are off, some other will arise, As Amurath and Aladin, sons to Acomat, My sister Solyma, Mustaffa’s wife. All these shall suffer shipwrack on a shelf, Rather than Selim will be drowned himself. Enter Abraham the Jew. Jew, thou art welcome unto Selimus. I have a piece of service for you, sir, But on your life be secret in the deed. Get a strong poison, whose envenomed taste May take away the life of Bajazeth Before he pass forth of Byzantium. Abraham I warrant you, my gracious sovereign, He shall be quickly sent unto his grave, For I have potions of so strong a force That whosoever touches them shall die. Speaks aside. And would your grace would once but taste of them, I could as willingly afford them you, As to your agèd father Bajazeth. To SelimusMy lord, I am resolved to do the deed. Exit Abraham. Selimus So this is well: for I am none of those That make a conscience for to kill a man. For nothing is more hurtful to a prince, Than to be scrupulous and religious. I like Lysander’s counsel passing well: If that I cannot speed with lion’s force, To clothe my complots in a fox’s skin. For th’only things that wrought our empiry Were open wrongs and hidden treachery. Oh, they’re two wings wherewith I use to fly And soar above the common sort. If any seek our wrongs to remedy, With these I’ll make his meditation short, And one of these shall still maintain my cause: Or fox’s skin or lion’s rending paws. Exeunt all.

Scene 19 Enter Bajazeth and Aga in mourning cloaks, Abraham the Jew with a cup. Bajazeth Come, Aga, let us sit and mourn awhile, For Fortune never showed herself so cross To any prince as to poor Bajazeth. They sit. That woeful emperor, first of my name, Whom the Tatarians locked in a cage To be a spectacle to all the world, Was ten times happier than I am now. For Tamburlaine, the great scourge of nations, Was he that pulled him from his kingdom so. But mine own sons expel me from the throne. Ah, where shall I begin to make my moan? Or what shall I first reckon in my plaint? From my youth up I have been drowned in woe, And to my latest hour I shall be so. You swelling seas of never-ceasing care, Whose waves my weather-beaten ship do toss, Your boisterous billows too unruly are And threaten still my ruin and my loss: Like hugy mountains do your waters rear Their lofty tops and my weak vessel cross. Alas, at length allay your stormy strife And cruel wrath; within me rage is rife. Or else my feeble bark cannot endure Your flashing buffets and outragious blows. But while thy foamy flood doth it immure, It shall soon be wracked on sandy shallows. Grief, my lead boatswain, stirreth nothing sure, But, without stars, gainst tide and wind he rows And cares not, though upon some rock we split, A restless pilot for the charge unfit. But out, alas, the god that vails the sea, And can alone this raging tempest stent, Will never blow a gentle gale of ease But suffer my poor vessel to be rent. Then O, thou blind procurer of mischance That stayst thyself upon a turning wheel, Thy cruel hand, even when thou wilt, enhance And pierce my poor heart with thy thrillant steel. Aga Cease, Bajazeth. Now, it is Aga’s turn. Rest thou awhile and gather up more tears, The while poor Aga tells his tragedy. When first my mother brought me to the world, Some blazing comet rulèd in the sky, Portending miserable chance to me. My parents were but men of poor estate, And happy yet had wretched Aga been, If Bajazeth had not exalted him. Poor Aga, had it not been much more fair T’have died among the cruel Persians Than thus at home by barbarous tyranny To live and never see the cheerful day And to want hands wherewith to feel the way? Bajazeth Leave weeping, Aga. We have wept enough. Now, Bajazeth will ban another while And utter curses to the concave sky, Which may infect the regions of the air And bring a general plague on all the world. Night, thou most ancient grandmother of all, First made by Jove for rest and quiet sleep, When cheerful day is gone from th’earth’s wide hall, Henceforth thy mantle in black Lethe steep And clothe the world in darkness infernal. Suffer not once the joyful daylight peep, But let thy pitchy steeds, ay, draw thy wain, And coal-black silence in the world still reign. Curse on my parents that first brought me up And on the cradle wherein I was rocked. Curse on the day when first I was created The chief commander of all Asia. Curse on my sons that drive me to this grief. Curse on myself that can find no relief. And curse on him, an everlasting curse, That quenched those lamps of ever-burning light And took away my Aga’s warlike hands. And curse on all things under the wide sky. Ah, Aga, I have cursed my stomach dry. Abraham Steps forward. I have a drink, my lords, of noble worth, Which soon will calm your stormy passions And glad your hearts if so you please to taste it. Bajazeth For who art thou that thus dost pity us? Abraham Your highness’ humble servant, Abraham. Bajazeth Abraham, sit down and drink to Bajazeth. Abraham Aside Faith, I am old as well as Bajazeth And have not many months to live on earth; I care not much to end my life with him. He sits. To Bajazeth and Aga Here’s to you, lordings, with a full carouse. He drinks. Bajazeth Here, Aga, woeful Bajazeth drinks to thee. Abraham, hold the cup to him while he drinks. Bajazeth and Aga drink. Abraham Now know, old lords, that you have drunk your last: This was a potion which I did prepare To poison you, by Selimus’ instigation, And now it is dispersèd through my bones, And glad I am that such companions Shall go with me down to Proserpina. He dies. Bajazeth Ah, wicked Jew. Ah, cursèd Selimus. How have the Destins dealt with Bajazeth That none should cause my death but mine own son? If Ismael and his warlike Persians Piercèd my body with their iron spears, Or had the strong unconquered Tonombey With his Egyptians took me prisoner And sent me with his valiant Mamelukes To be prey unto the crocodilus, It never would have grieved me half so much. But welcome death, into whose calmy port My sorrow-beaten soul joys to arrive. And now farewell my disobedient sons, Unnatural sons unworthy of that name. Farewell, sweet life, and Aga now, farewell, ’Til we shall meet in the Elysian fields. He dies. Aga What greater grief had mournful Priamus Than that he lived to see his Hector die, His city burnt down by revenging flames, And poor Polites slain before his face? Aga, thy grief is matchable to his, For I have lived to see my sovereign’s death, Yet glad that I must breath my last with him. And now, farewell, sweet light, which my poor eyes These twice six months never did it behold. Aga will follow noble Bajazeth And beg a boon of lovely Proserpina, That he and I may in the mournful fields Still weep and wail our strange calamities. He dies

Scene 20 Enter Bullithrumble the shepherd, running in haste and laughing to himself. Bullithrumble

Ha, ha, ha! Married, quoth you? Marry, an Bullithrumble were to begin the world again, I would set a tap abroach and not live in daily fear of the breach of my wife’s ten commandments. I’ll tell you what. I thought myself as proper a fellow at wasters as any in all our village, and yet when my wife begins to play club’s trump with me, I am fain to sing:

What hap had I to marry a shrew, For she hath given me many a blow. And how to please her, alas, I do not know. From morn to even, her tongue ne’er lies. Sometime she laughs; sometime she cries: And I can scarce keep her talents fro my eyes. When from abroad I do come in, Sir knave, she cries, where have you been? Thus please, or displease, she lays it on my skin. Then do I crouch, then do I kneel, And wish my cap were furred with steel To bear the blows that my poor head doth feel. But our Sir John, beshrew thy heart, For thou hast joined us; we cannot part, And I, poor fool, must ever bear the smart.

I’ll tell you what. This morning while I was making me ready, she came with a holly wand and so blessed my shoulders that I was fain to run through a whole alphabet of faces. Now at the last, seeing she was so cammock with me, I began to swear all the criss-cross row over, beginning at great A, little a, til I came to w, x, y, and snatching up my sheephook and my bottle and my bag, like a desperate fellow, ran away. And here now I’ll sit down and eat my meat.

Eats. While he is eating, enter Corcut and his Page, disguised like mourners. Corcut O hateful hellish snake of Tartary That feedest on the soul of noblest men, Damned ambition, cause of all misery, Why dost thou creep from out thy loathsome fen And, with thy poison, animatest friends, Who gape and long, one for the other’s ends? Selimus, couldst thou not content thy mind With the possession of the sacred throne, Which thou didst get by father’s death unkind, Whose poisoned ghost before high God doth groan, But thou must seek poor Corcut’s overthrow That never injured thee so nor so? Old Hali’s sons with two great companies Of barded horse were sent from Selimus To take me prisoner in Magnesia, And death, I am sure, should have befell me, If they had once but set their eyes on me. So thus disguisèd, my poor page and I Fled fast to Smyrna, where in a dark cave We meant t’await th’arrival of some ship That might transfrete us safely unto Rhodes. But see how Fortune crossed my enterprise. Bostangi Bassa, Selim’s son-in-law, Kept all the sea coasts with his brigantines, That if we had but ventured on the sea, I presently had been his prisoner. These two days have we kept us in the cave, Eating such herbs as the ground did afford. And now through hunger are we both constrained, Like fearful snakes, to creep out step by step And see if we may get us any food. And in good time, see, yonder sits a man, Spreading a hungry dinner on the grass. Bullithrumble spies them and puts up his meat. Bullithrumble

These are some felonians that seek to rob me. Well, I’ll make myself a good deal valianter than I am, indeed, and if they will needs creep into kindred with me, I’ll betake me to my old occupation and run away.

Corcut

Hail, groom.

Bullithrumble

Good lord, sir, you are deceived. My name’s Master Bullithrumble. Aside This is some cozening conicatching crossbiter that would fain persuade me he knows me, and so under a ’tence of familiarity and acquaintance, uncle me of victuals.

Corcut Then Bullithrumble, if that be thy name— Bullithrumble

My name, sir, oho lord yes, and if you will not believe me, I will bring my godfathers and godmothers, and they shall swear it upon the font-stone and upon the church book, too, where it is written. Aside Mass, I think he be some justice of peace, ad quorum and omnium populorum. How he famines me.To Corcut A Christian, yes, marry am I, sir; yes, verily, and do believe: an it please you, I’ll go forward in my catechism.

Corcut Then, Bullithrumble, by that blessèd Christ And by the tomb where he was burièd, By sovereign hope which thou conceiv’st in him, Whom dead, as ever living thou adorest Bullithrumble

O lord, help me; I shall be torn in pieces with devils and goblins.

Corcut By all the joys thou hopst to have in heaven, Give some meat to poor hunger-starvèd men. Bullithrumble

Aside Oh, these are, as a man should say, beggars: Now will I be as stately to them as if I were Maister Pigwiggen our constable. To Corcut and Page Well, sirs, come before me. Tell me, if I should entertain you, would you not steal?

Page

If we did mean so, sir, we would not make your worship acquainted with it.

Bullithrumble

A good, well nutrimented lad. Well, if you will keep my sheep truly and honestly, keeping your hands from lying and slandering, and your tongues from picking and stealing, you shall be Maister Bullithrumble’s servitures.

Corcut

With all our hearts.

Bullithrumble

Then come on and follow me. We will have a hog’s cheek and a dish of tripes, and a society of puddings, and to field: a society of puddings, did you mark that well used metaphor? Another would have said a company of puddings. If you dwell with me long, sirs, I shall make you as eloquent as our parson himself.

Exeunt Corcut and Bullithrumble. Page Now is the time when I may be enriched. The brethren that were sent by Selimus To take my lord Prince Corcut prisoner, Finding him fled, proposèd large rewards To them that could declare where he remains. Faith, I’ll to them and get the portagues, Though by the bargain Corcut lose his head. Exit Page.

Scene 21 Enter Selimus, Sinam Bassa, the corses of Bajazeth and Aga with funeral pomp, Mustaffa and the Janissaries. Selimus Aside Why, thus must Selim blind his subjects’ eyes And strain his own to weep for Bajazeth. They will not dream I made of him away, When thus they see me with religious pomp To celebrate his tomb-black mortuary. And though my heart, cast in an iron mold, Cannot admit the smallest dram of grief, Yet that I may be thought to love him well I’ll mourn in show, though I rejoice indeed. Selimus speaks to the corses. Thus after he hath five long ages lived, The sacred Phoenix of Arabia Loadeth his wings with precious perfumes And, on the altar of the golden sun, Offers himself a grateful sacrifice. Long didst thou live triumphant, Bajazeth, A fear unto thy greatest enemies, And now that death, the conqueror of kings, Dislodgèd hath thy never-dying soul To flee unto the heavens from whence she came And leave her frail, earth pavilion, Thy body, in this ancient monument, Where our great predecessors sleep in rest, Bajazeth placed in the Temple of Mahomet. Thy woeful son Selimus thus doth place. Thou wert the Phoenix of this age of ours And didst thou die wrapped in the sweet perfumes Of thy magnific deeds, whose lasting praise Mounteth highest heaven with golden wings. Princes, come bear your emperor company In, till the days of mourning be o’erpassed, And then we mean to rouse false Acomat And cast him forth of Macedonia. Exeunt all.

Scene 22 Enter Hali Bassa, Cali Bassa, Corcut’s Page, and one or two soldiers. Page

My lords, if I bring you not where Corcut is, then let me be hanged. But if I deliver him up into your hands, then let me have the reward due to so good a deed.

Hali Bassa Page, if thou show us where thy maister is, Be sure thou shalt be honored for the deed And high exalted above other men. Enter Corcut and Bullithrumble. Page That same is he that in disguisèd robes Accompanies yon shepherd to the fields. Corcut The sweet content that country life affords Passeth the royal pleasures of a king: For there our joys are interlaced with fears, But here no fear nor care is harborèd But a sweet calm of a most quiet state. Ah, Corcut, would thy brother Selimus But let thee live, here shouldst thou spend thy life, Feeding thy sheep among these grassy lands. But sure I wonder where my page is gone. Hali Bassa

Corcut!

Corcut

Ay me, who nameth me?

Hali Bassa Hali, the governor of Magnesia. Poor prince, thou thoughtst in these disguisèd weeds To mask unseen; and happily thou mightst, But that thy page betrayèd thee to us. And be not wrath with us, unhappy prince, If we do what our sovereign commands. ’Tis for thy death that Selim sends for thee. Corcut Thus I, like poor Amphiaraus, sought By hiding my estate in shepherd’s coat T’escape the angry wrath of Selimus. But as his wife false Eriphyle did Betray his safety for a chain of gold, So my false page hath vilely dealt with me. Pray God that thou mayst prosper so as she. Hali, I know thou sorrowst for my case, But it is bootless. Come and let us go. Corcut is ready, since it must be so. Cali Bassa

Shepherd.

Bullithrumble

That’s my profession, sir.

Cali Bassa

Come, you must go with us.

Bullithrumble

Who I? Alas sir, I have a wife and seventeen cradles rocking, two ploughs going, two barns filling, and a great herd of beasts feeding, and you should utterly undo me to take me from such a great charge.

Cali Bassa

Well, there is no remedy.

Exeunt all, but Bullithrumble stealing from them closely away. Bullithrumble

The more’s the pity. Go with you, quoth he. Marry, that had been the way to preferment, down Holborn up Tyburn. Well, I’ll keep my best joint from the strappado as well as I can. Hereafter, I’ll have no more servants.

Exit, running away.

Scene 23 Enter Selimus, Sinam Bassa, Mustaffa, and the Janissaries. Selimus Sinam, we hear our brother Acomat Is fled away from Macedonia To ask for aid of Persian Ismael And the Egyptian Soldan, our chief foes. Sinam Bassa Herein, my lord, I like his enterprise, For if they give him aid, as sure they will Being your highness’ vowèd enemies, You shall have just cause for to war on them For giving succor gainst you to your foe. You know they are two mighty potentates And may be hurtful neighbors to your grace, And to enrich the Turkish diadem With two so worthy kingdoms as they are Would be eternal glory to your name. Selimus By heavens, Sinam, th’art a warrior And worthy counselor unto a king. Sound within. Enter Cali Bassa and Hali Bassa with Corcut and his Page. How now, what news? Cali Bassa My gracious lord, we here present to you Your brother Corcut, whom in Smyrna coasts, Feeding a flock of sheep upon a down, His traitorous page betrayèd to our hands. Selimus Thanks, ye bold brethren, but for that false part, Let the vile page be famishèd to death. Corcut Selim, in this I see thou art a prince, To punish treason with condign reward. Selimus O sir, I love the fruit that treason brings, But those that are the traitors, them I hate. But Corcut, could not your philosophy Keep you safe from my Janissaries’ hands? We thought you had old Gyges’ wond’rous ring, That so you were invisible to us. Corcut Selim, thou deals unkindly with thy brother, To seek my death and make a jest of me. Upbraidst thou me with my philosophy? Why this I learned by studying learnèd arts: That I can bear my fortune as it falls And that I fear no whit thy cruelty, Since thou wilt deal no otherwise with me Than thou hast dealt with agèd Bajazeth. Selimus By heavens, Corcut, thou shalt surely die For slandring Selim with my father’s death. Corcut Then let me freely speak my mind this once, For thou shalt never hear me speak again. Selimus Ay, we can give such losers leave to speak. Corcut Then, Selim, hear thy brother’s dying words, And mark them well, for ere thou die thyself, Thou shalt perceive all things will come to pass That Corcut doth divine before his death. Since my vain flight from fair Magnesia, Selim, I have conversed with Christians And learned of them the way to save my soul And please the anger of the highest god. ’Tis he that made this pure crystalline vault Which hangeth over our unhappy heads, From thence he doth behold each sinner’s fault. And though our sins under our feet he treads And for a while seems for to wink at us, But it is to recall us from our ways. But if we do, like headstrong sons, neglect To hearken to our loving father’s voice, Then in his anger will he us reject And give us over to our wicked choice. Selim, before his dreadful majesty, There lies a book written with bloody lines, Where our offences all are registered, Which if we do not hastily repent, We are reserved to lasting punishment. Thou, wretched Selimus, hast greatest need To ponder these things in thy secret thoughts, If thou consider what strange massacres And cruel murders thou hast caused to be done. Think on the death of woeful Bajazeth. Doth not his ghost still haunt thee for revenge? Selim, in Chiurlu didst thou set upon Our agèd father in his sudden flight. In Chiurlu shalt thou die a grievous death. And if thou wilt not change thy greedy mind, Thy soul shall be tormented in dark hell, Where woe, and woe, and never-ceasing woe Shall sound about thy ever-damnèd soul. Now, Selim, I have spoken. Let me die. I never will entreat thee for my life. Selim, farewell. Thou God of Christians, Receive my dying soul into thy hands. Selimus strangles him. Selimus What, is he dead? Then Selimus is safe And hath no more corrivals in the crown. For as for Acomat, he soon shall see His Persian aid cannot save him from me. Now, Sinam, march to fair Amasya’s walls, Where Acomat’s stout queen immures herself, And girt the city with a warlike siege. For since her husband is my enemy, I see no cause why she should be my friend. They say young Amurath and Aladin, Her bastard brood, are come to succor her. But I’ll prevent this their officiousness And send their souls down to their grandfather. Mustaffa, you shall keep Byzantium, While I and Sinam girt Amasya. Exit Selimus, Sinam Bassa, and the Janissaries, all save Mustaffa and a Janissary. Mustaffa It grieves my soul that Bajazeth’s fair line Should be eclipsèd thus by Selimus, Whose cruel soul will never be at a rest ’Til none remain of Ottoman’s fair race But he himself. Yet for old Bajazeth Loved Mustaffa dear unto his death, I will show mercy to his family. Go, sirrah, post to Acomat’s young sons And bid them, as they mean to save their lives, To fly in haste from fair Amasya, Lest cruel Selim do put them to the sword. Exit one to Amurath and Aladin. And now, Mustaffa, prepare thou thy neck, For thou art next to die by Selim’s hands. Stern Sinam Bassa grudgeth still at thee, And crabbèd Hali stormeth at thy life. All repine that thou art honorèd so To be the brother of their emperor. Enter Solyma. But wherefore comes my lovely Solyma? Solyma Mustaffa, I am come to seek thee out. If ever thy distressèd Solyma Found grace and favor in thy manly heart, Fly hence with me unto some desert land, For if we tarry here we are but dead. This night, when fair Lucinae’s shining wain Was past the chair of bright Cassiopeia, A fearful vision appearèd to me. Methought, Mustaffa, I beheld thy neck, So often folded in my loving arms, In foul disgrace of bassa’s fair degree, With a vile halter basely compassèd. And while I poured my tears on thy dead corpse, A greedy lion with wide gaping throat Seized on my trembling body with his feet, And in a moment rent me all to nought. Fly, sweet Mustaffa, or we be but dead. Mustaffa Why should we fly, beauteous Solyma, Moved by a vain and a fantastic dream? Or if we did fly, whither should we fly? If to the farthest part of Asia, Knowst thou not, Solyma, kings have long hands? Come, come, my joy, return again with me, And banish hence these melancholy thoughts. Exeunt.

Scene 24 Enter Aladin, Amurath, and a messenger. Aladin Messenger, is it true that Selimus Is not far hence encampèd with his host? And means he to disjoin the hapless sons From helping our distressèd mother’s town? Messenger ’Tis true, my lord, and if you love your lives, Fly from the bounds of his dominions. For he, you know, is most unmerciful. Amurath Here, messenger, take this for thy reward. Exit messenger. But we, sweet Aladin, let us depart Now in the quiet silence of the night, That ere the windows of the morn be ope, We may be far enough from Selimus. I’ll to Aegyptus. Aladin I to Persia. Exeunt.

Scene 25 Enter Selimus, Sinam Bassa, Hali Bassa, Cali Bassa, and the Janissaries. Selimus But is it certain, Hali, they are gone? And that Mustaffa did move them to fly? Hali Bassa Certain, my lord. I met the messenger As he returnèd from young Aladin And learned of him Mustaffa was the man That certified the princes of your will. Selimus It is enough. Mustaffa shall abye At a dear price his pitiful intent. Hali, go fetch Mustaffa and his wife. Exit Hali Bassa. For though she be sister to Selimus, Yet loves she him better than Selimus, So that if he do die at our command, And she should live, soon would she work a mean To work revenge for her Mustaffa’s death. Enter Hali Bassa, Mustaffa, and Solyma. False of thy faith and traitor to thy king, Did we so highly always honor thee, And dost thou thus requite our love with treason? For why shouldst thou send to young Aladin And Amurath, the sons of Acomat, To give them notice of our secrecies, Knowing they were my vowèd enemies? Mustaffa I do not seek to lessen my offence, Great Selimus, but truly do protest I did it not for hatred of your grace, So help me God and holy Mahomet, But for I grieved to see the famous stock Of worthy Bajazeth fall to decay; Therefore, I sent the princes both away. Your highness knows Mustaffa was the man That saved you in the battle of Chiurlu, When I and all the warlike Janissaries Had hedged your person in a dangerous ring. Yet I took pity on your danger there And made a way for you to ’scape by flight. But those your bassas have incensèd you, Repining at Mustaffa’s dignity. Stern Sinam grinds his angry teeth at me. Old Hali’s sons do bend their brows at me And are aggrievèd that Mustaffa hath Showèd himself a better man than they. And yet the Janissars do mourn for me; They know Mustaffa never provèd false. Ay, I have been as true to Selimus As ever subject to his sovereign, So help me God and holy Mahomet. Selimus You did it not because you hated us But for you loved the sons of Acomat. Sinam, I charge thee, quickly strangle him; He loves not me that loves mine enemies. As for your holy protestation, It cannot enter into Selim’s ears: For why, Mustaffa? Every merchantman Will praise his own ware, be it ne’er so bad. Solyma For Solyma’s sake, mighty Selimus, Spare my Mustaffa’s life, and let me die. Or if thou wilt not be so gracious, Yet let me die before I see his death. Selimus Nay Solyma, yourself shall also die Because you may be in the selfsame fault. Why stayst thou, Sinam? Strangle him I say. Sinam Bassa strangles Mustaffa. Solyma Ah, Selimus, he made thee emperor, And wilt thou thus requite his benefits? Thou art a cruel tiger and no man That couldst endure to see before thy face So brave a man as my Mustaffa was Cruelly strangled for so small a fault. Selimus Thou shalt not after live him, Solyma. ’Twere pity thou shouldst want the company Of thy dear husband. Sinam, strangle her. Sinam Bassa strangles Solyma. And now to fair Amasya let us march. Acomat’s wife and her unmanly host Will not be able to endure our sight, Much less make strong resistance in hard fight. Exeunt.

Scene 26 Enter Acomat, Tonombey, Visir, Regan, and their soldiers. Acomat Welcome, my lords, into my native soil. The crown whereof by right is due to me, Though Selim, by the Janissaries’ choice Through usurpation, keeps the same from me. You know, contrary to my father’s mind, He was enthronized by the bassas’ will And, after his installing, wickedly By poison made good Bajazeth to die, And strangled Corcut, and exiled me. These injuries we come for to revenge And raise his siege from fair Amasya’s walls. Tonombey Prince of Amasya and the rightful heir Unto the mighty Turkish diadem, With willing heart great Tonombey hath left Egyptian Nilus and my father’s court To aid thee in thy undertaken war. And by the great Usumcasane’s ghost, Companion unto mighty Tamburlaine, From whom my father lineally descends, Fortune shall show herself too cross to me, But we will thrust Selimus from his throne And revest Acomat in the empiry. Acomat Thanks to the uncontrollèd Tonombey. But let us haste us to Amasya To succor my besiegèd citizens. None but my queen is overseer there, And too too weak is all her policy Against so great a foe as Selimus. Exeunt all.

Scene 27 Enter Selimus, Sinam Bassa, Hali Bassa, Cali Bassa, and the Janissaries. Selimus Summon a parley, sirs, that we may know Whether these mushrooms here will yield or no. A parley: Enter the Queen of Amasya and her soldiers on the walls. Queen What cravest thou, bloodthirsty parricide? Is’t not enough that thou hast foully slain Thy loving father, noble Bajazeth, And strangled Corcut thine unhappy brother, Slain brave Mustaffa and fair Solyma Because they favored my unhappy sons, But thou must yet seek for more massacres? Go, wash thy guilty hands in lukewarm blood. Enrich thy soldiers with your robberies. Yet do the heavens still bear an equal eye, And vengeance follows thee, even at the heels. Selimus Queen of Amasya, wilt thou yield thyself? Queen First shall the overflowing Euripus Of swift Euboea stop his restless course And Phoeb’s bright globe bring the day from the west And quench his hot flames in the Eastern sea. Thy bloody sword, ungracious Selimus, Sheathed in the bowels of all thy dearest friends, Thy wicked guard which still attends on thee, Fleshing themselves in murder, lust, and rape, What hope of favor? What security? Rather, what death do they not promise me? Then think not, Selimus, that we will yield, But look for strong resistance at our hands. Selimus Why then, you never daunted Janissaries, Advance your shields and uncontrollèd spears, Your conquering hands in foemen’s blood embay, For Selimus himself will lead the way. Alarum. Selimus beats them off the walls. Alarum. Exeunt.

Scene 28 Enter Selimus, Sinam Bassa, Hali Bassa, Cali Bassa, and the Janissaries, with Acomat’s Queen prisoner. Selimus Now, sturdy dame, where are your men of war To guard your person from my angry sword? What? Though you braved us on your city walls, Like to that Amazonian Melanippe, Leaving the banks of swift-streamed Thermodon To challenge combat with great Hercules, Yet Selimus hath plucked your haughty plumes. Nor can your spouse, rebellious Acomat, Nor Aladin or Amurath, your sons, Deliver you from our victorious hands. Queen Selim, I scorn thy threatnings as thyself. And though ill hap hath given me to thy hands, Yet will I never beg my life of thee. Fortune may chance to frown as much on thee. And Acomat, whom thou dost scorn so much, May take thy base Tatarian concubine As well as thou hast took his loyal queen. Thou hast not Fortune tièd in a chain, Nor dost thou, like a wary pilot, sit And wisely steer this all-containing barge. Thou art a man as those whom thou hast slain, And some of them were better far than thou. Selimus Strangle her, Hali. Let her scold no more. Hali Bassa strangles her. Now let us march to meet with Acomat. He brings with him that great Egyptian bug, Strong Tonombey, Usumcasane’s son. But we shall soon with our fine-tempered swords Engrave our prowess on their burgonets, Were they as mighty and as fell of force As those old earth-bred brethren, which once Heaped hill on hill to scale the starry sky, When Briareus, armed with a hundred hands, Flung forth a hundred mountains at great Jove, And when the monstrous giant Monichus Hurled mount Olympus at great Mars his targe And darted cedars at Minerva’s shield. Exeunt all.

Scene 29 Alarum. Enter Selimus, Sinam Bassa, Cali Bassa, Hali Bassa, and the Janissaries at one door, and Acomat, Tonombey, Regan, Visir, and their soldiers at another. Selimus What, are the urchins crept out of their dens, Under the conduct of this porcupine? Dost thou not tremble, Acomat, at us, To see how courage masketh in our looks And white-winged Victory sits on our swords? Captain of Egypt, thou that vauntst thyself Sprung from great Tamburlaine the Scythian thief, Who bade thee enterprise this bold attempt, To set thy feet within the Turkish confines Or lift thy hands against our majesty? Acomat Brother of Trebisond, your squarèd words And broad-mouthed terms can never conquer us. We come resolved to pull the Turkish crown, Which thou dost wrongfully detain from me, By conquering sword from off thy coward crest. Selimus Acomat, since the quarrel toucheth none But thee and me, I dare and challenge thee. Tonombey Should he accept the combat of a boy, Whose unripe years and far unriper wit, Like to the bold, foolhardy Phaeton That sought to rule the chariot of the sun, Hath moved thee t’undertake an empiry? Selimus Thou that resolv’st in peremptory terms To call him boy that scorns to cope with thee. But thou canst better use thy bragging blade Than thou canst thy overflowing tongue. Soon shalt thou know that Selim’s mighty arm Is able to overthrow poor Tonombey. Alarum. Tonombey beats Hali Bassa and Cali Bassa in. Selimus beats Tonombey in. Alarum. Reenter Tonombey. Exeunt all but Tonombey. Tonombey The field is lost, and Acomat is taken. Ah, Tonombey, how canst thou show thy face To thy victorious sire thus conquerèd. A matchless knight is warlike Selimus, And, like a shepherd mongst a swarm of gnats, Dings down the flying Persians with their swords. Twice I encountered with him hand to hand And twice returnèd foilèd and ashamed. For never yet since I could manage arms Could any match with mighty Tonombey, But this heroic emperor Selimus. Why stand I still and rather do not fly The great occision which the victors make? Exit Tonombey.

Scene 30 Alarum. Enter Selimus, Sinam Bassa with Acomat prisoner, Hali Bassa, Cali Bassa, and the Janissaries. Selimus Thus, when the coward Greeks fled to their ships, The noble Hector, all besmeared in blood, Returned in triumph to the walls of Troy. A gallant trophy, bassas, have we won, Beating the never-foilèd Tonombey And hewing passage through the Persians, As when a lion, raving for his prey, Falleth upon a drove of hornèd bulls And rends them strongly in his kingly paws. Or Mars, armed in his adamantine coat, Mounted upon his fiery shining wain, Scatters the troops of warlike Thracians And warms cold Hebros with hot streams of blood. Brave Sinam, for thy noble prisoner, Thou shalt be general of my Janissaries And Beylerbey of fair Natolia. Now Acomat, thou monster of the world, Why stoopst thou not with rev’rence to thy king? Acomat Selim, if thou have gotten victory, Then use it to thy contentation. If I had conquered, know assuredly I would have said as much and more to thee. Know I disdain them as I do thyself And scorn to stoop or bend my lordly knee To such a tyrant as is Selimus. Thou slewst my queen without regard or care Of love or duty or thine own good name. Then, Selim, take that which thy hap doth give; Disgraced, displaced, I longer loath to live. Selimus Then, Sinam, strangle him. Sinam Bassa Strangles Acomat. Now he is dead, Who doth remain to trouble Selimus? Now am I king alone and none but I. For since my father’s death until this time I never wanted some competitors. Now, as the weary wandering traveler That hath his steps guided through many lands, Through boiling soil of Africa and Ind, When he returns unto his native home Sits down among his friends and with delight Declares the travels he hath overpassed, So mayst thou, Selimus, for thou hast trod The monster-garden paths that lead to crowns. Ha, ha. I smile to think how Selimus, Like the Egyptian ibis, hath expelled Those swarming armies of swift-wingèd snakes That sought to overrun my territories. When sweltring heat the earth’s green children spoils, From forth the fens of venemous Africa The generation of those flying snakes Do band themselves in troops and take their way To Nilus’ bounds: but those industrious birds, Those ibises, meet them in set array And eat them up like to a swarm of gnats, Preventing such a mischief from the land. But see how unkind nature deals with them: From out their eggs rises the basilisk, Whose only sight kills millions of men. When Acomat lifted ungracious hands Against my agèd father Bajazeth, They sent for me, and I, like Egypt’s bird, Have rid that monster and his fellow mates. But as from ibis springs the basilisk, Whose only touch burneth up stones and trees, So Selimus hath proved a cockatrice And clean consumèd all the family Of noble Ottoman, except himself. And now to you, my neighbor emperors, That durst lend aid to Selim’s enemies, Sinam, those soldans of the Orient, Egypt and Persia, Selimus will quell, Or he himself will sink to lowest hell. This winter will we rest and breathe ourselves. But soon as Zephyrus’ sweet-smelling blast Shall greatly creep over the flow’ry meads, We’ll have a fling at the Egyptian crown And join it unto ours, or lose our own. Exeunt.

Epilogue Enter Conclusion. Conclusion Thus have we brought victorious Selimus Unto the crown of great Arabia. Next shall you see him with triumphant sword Dividing kingdoms into equal shares, Giving them to his warlike followers. If this first part, Gentles, do like you well, The second part shall greater murders tell. Exit Conclusion.