SCENE III.--_Camp of_ AMURACK, _near Naples.
_Enter_ AMURACK, CROCON, FAUSTUS _and_ FABIUS, _with the_ Provost _and Turkish_ Janissaries.
_Amu._ Fabius, come hither: what is that thou sayest? What did God Mahound prophesy to us? Why do our viceroys wend unto the wars Before their king had notice of the same? What, do they think to play bob-fool with me? Or are they wax'd so frolic now of late, Since that they had the leading of our bands, As that they think that mighty Amurack Dares do no other than to soothe them up? Why speak'st thou not? what fond or frantic fit Did make those careless kings to venture it?
_Fabi._ Pardon, dear lord; no frantic fit at all, No frolic vein, nor no presumptuous mind, Did make your viceroys take these wars in hand: But forc'd they were by Mahound's prophecy To do the same, or else resolve to die.
_Amu._ So, sir, I hear you, but can scarce believe That Mahomet would charge them go before, Against Alphonsus with so small a troop, Whose number far exceeds King Xerxes' troop.
_Fabi._ Yes, noble lord, and more than that, he said That, ere that you, with these your warlike men, Should come to bring your succour to the field, Belinus, Claramont, and Arcastus too Should all be crown'd with crowns of beaten gold, And borne with triumph round about their tents.
_Amu._ With triumph, man! did Mahound tell them so?-- Provost, go carry Fabius presently Unto the Marshalsea;[48] there let him rest, Clapt sure and safe in fetters all of steel, Till Amurack discharge him from the same; For be he sure, unless it happen so As he did say Mahound did prophesy, By this my hand forthwith the slave shall die. [_They lay hold of_ FABIUS, _and make as though to carry him out._
_Enter a_ Messenger.
_Mess._ Stay, Provost, stay, let Fabius alone: More fitteth now that every lusty lad Be buckling on his helmet, than to stand In carrying soldiers to the Marshalsea.
_Amu._ Why, what art thou, that darest once presume For to gainsay that Amurack did bid?
_Mess._ I am, my lord, the wretched'st man alive, Born underneath the planet of mishap; Erewhile, a soldier of Belinus' band, But now--
_Amu._ What now?
_Mess._ The mirror of mishap; Whose captain's slain, and all his army dead, Only excepted me, unhappy wretch.
_Amu._ What news is this! and is Belinus slain? Is this the crown which Mahomet did say He should with triumph wear upon his head? Is this the honour which that cursèd god Did prophesy should happen to them all? O Dædalus, an wert thou now alive, To fasten wings upon high Amurack, Mahound should know, and that for certainty, That Turkish kings can brook no injury!
_Fabi._ Tush, tush, my lord; I wonder what you mean, Thus to exclaim against high Mahomet: I'll lay my life that, ere this day be past, You shall perceive his tidings all be waste.
_Amu._ We shall perceive, accursèd Fabius! Suffice it not that thou hast been the man That first didst beat those baubles in my brain, But that, to help me forward in my grief, Thou seekest to confirm so foul a lie? Go, get thee hence, and tell thy traitorous king What gift you had, which did such tidings bring.-- [_Stabs_ FABIUS, _who dies._ And now, my lords, since nothing else will serve, Buckle your helms, clap on your steelèd coats, Mount on your steeds, take lances in your hands; For Amurack doth mean this very day Proud Mahomet with weapons to assay.
_Mess._ Mercy, high monarch! it is no time now To spend the day in such vain threatenings Against our god, the mighty Mahomet: More fitteth thee to place thy men-at-arms In battle 'ray, for to withstand your foes, Which now are drawing towards you with speed. [_Drums sounded within._ Hark, how their drums with dub-a-dub do come! To arms, high lord, and set these trifles by, That you may set upon them valiantly.
_Amu._ And do they come? you kings of Turkey-[land], Now is the time in which your warlike arms Must raise your names above the starry skies. Call to your mind your predecessors' acts, Whose martial might, this many a hundred year, Did keep those fearful dogs in dread and awe, And let your weapons show Alphonsus plain, That though that they be clappèd up in clay, Yet there be branches sprung up from those trees, In Turkish land, which brook no injuries. Besides the same, remember with yourselves What foes we have; not mighty Tamburlaine, Nor soldiers trainèd up amongst the wars, But fearful boors, pick'd from their rural flock, Which, till this time, were wholly ignorant What weapons meant, or bloody Mars doth crave. More would I say, but horses that be free Do need no spurs, and soldiers which themselves Long and desire to buckle with the foe, Do need no words to egg them to the same.
_Enter_ ALPHONSUS, _with a canopy carried over him by three_ Lords, _having over each corner a king's head crowned; with him_ ALBINIUS, LÆLIUS _and_ MILES _with crowns on their heads, and their_ Soldiers.
Besides the same, behold whereas our foes Are marching towards us most speedily. Courage, my lords, ours is the victory.
_Alphon._ Thou pagan dog, how dar'st thou be so bold To set thy foot within Alphonsus' land? What, art thou come to view thy wretched kings, Whose traitorous heads bedeck my tent so well? Or else, thou hearing that on top thereof There is a place left vacant, art thou come To have thy head possess the highest seat? If it be so, lie down, and this my sword Shall presently that honour thee afford. If not, pack hence, or by the heavens I vow, Both thou and thine shall very soon perceive That he that seeks to move my patience Must yield his life to me for recompense.
_Amu._ Why, proud Alphonsus, think'st thou Amurack, Whose mighty force doth terrify the gods, Can e'er be found to turn his heels, and fly Away for fear from such a boy as thou? No, no, although that Mars this mickle while Hath fortified thy weak and feeble arm, And Fortune oft hath view'd with friendly face Thy armies marching victors from the field, Yet at the presence of high Amurack Fortune shall change, and Mars, that god of might, Shall succour me, and leave Alphonsus quite.
_Alphon._ Pagan, I say thou greatly art deceiv'd: I clap up Fortune in a cage of gold, To make her turn her wheel as I think best; And as for Mars whom you do say will change, He moping sits behind the kitchen-door, Prest at command of every scullion's mouth, Who dares not stir, nor once to move a whit, For fear Alphonsus then should stomach it.
_Amu._ Blasp-hém-ous dog, I wonder that the earth Doth cease from renting underneath thy feet, To swallow up that canker'd corpse of thine. I muse that Jove can bridle so his ire As, when he hears his brother so misus'd, He can refrain from sending thunderbolts By thick and threefold, to revenge his wrong. Mars fight for me, and fortune be my guide! And I'll be victor, whatsome'er betide.
_Albi._ Pray loud enough,[49] lest that you pray in vain: Perhaps God Mars and Fortune are asleep.
_Amu._ An Mars lies slumbering on his downy bed, Yet do not think but that the power we have, Without the help of those celestial gods, Will be sufficient, yea, with small ado, Alphonsus' straggling army to subdue.
_Læli._ You had need as then to call for Mahomet, With hellish hags to perform the same.
_Faustus._ High Amurack, I wonder what you mean, That, when you may, with little toil or none, Compel these dogs to keep their tongues in peace, You let them stand still barking in this sort: Believe me, sovereign, I do blush to see These beggar's brats to chat so frolicly.
_Alphon._ How now, sir boy! Let Amurack himself, Or any he, the proudest of you all, But offer once for to unsheath his sword, If that he dares, for all the power you have.
_Amu._ What, dar'st thou us? myself will venture it.-- To arms, my mate!
[AMURACK _draws his sword_; ALPHONSUS _and all the other_ Kings _draw theirs. Alarum;_ AMURACK _and his company fly, followed by_ ALPHONSUS _and his company._
ACT THE FIFTH
PROLOGUE
_Alarum. Enter_ VENUS.
_Venus._ Fierce is the fight, and bloody is the broil. No sooner had the roaring cannon shot Spit forth the venom of their firèd paunch, And with their pellets sent such troops of souls Down to the bottom of the dark Avern, As that it cover'd all the Stygian fields; But, on a sudden, all the men-at-arms, Which mounted were on lusty coursers' backs, Did rush together with so great a noise As that I thought the giants one time more Did scale the heavens, as erst they did before. Long time dame Fortune temper'd so her wheel As that there was no vantage to be seen On any side, but equal was the gain; But at the length, so God and Fates decreed, Alphonsus was the victor of the field, And Amurack became his prisoner; Who so remain'd, until his daughter came, And by her marrying did his pardon frame. [_Exit._