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He looks upon the mightiest monarch's wars
But only as on stately robberies;
Where evermore the fortune that prevails
Must be the right: the ill-succeeding mars
The fairest and the best-fac'd enterprise.
Great pirate Pompey lesser pirates quails:
Justice, he sees (as if seduced) still
Conspires with power, whose cause must not be
ill.

He sees the face of right t' appear as manifold 25
As are the passions of uncertain man;
Who puts it in all colours, all attires,

To serve his ends, and make his courses hold.
He sees, that let deceit work what it can,
Plot and contrive base ways to high desires; 30
That the all-guiding Providence doth yet
All disappoint, and mocks the smoke of wit.
Nor is he mov'd with all the thunder-cracks
Of tyrant's threats, or with the surly brow
Of Pow'r, that proudly sits on others' crimes: 35
Charg'd with more crying sins than those he
checks.

The storms of sad confusion, that may grow
Up in the present for the coming times,
Appal not him; that hath no side at all,
But of himself, and knows the worst can 40
fall...

And whereas none rejoice more in revenge;
Than women use to do; yet you well know,
That wrong is better check'd by being con-
temn'd,

Than being pursu'd; leaving him t' avenge,
To whom it appertains. Wherein you show 45
How worthily your clearness hath condemn'd
Base malediction, living in the dark,
That at the rays of goodness still doth bark.

Knowing the heart of man is set to be
The centre of this world, about the which
These revolutions of disturbances
Still roll; where all th' aspects of misery
Predominate: whose strong effects are such,
As he must bear, being pow'rless to redress:
And that unless above himself he can
Erect himself, how poor a thing is man.

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And how turmoil'd they are that level lie
With earth, and cannot lift themselves from
thence;

That never are at peace with their desires,
But work beyond their years; and ev'n deny 60
Dotage her rest, and hardly will dispense
With death. That when ability expires,
Desire lives still-So much delight they have,
To carry toil and travel to the grave.

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Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part,
Nay I have done, you get no more of me;
And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free;
Shake hands forever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we one jot of former love retain.
Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath,
When his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies, 10
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And Innocence is closing up his eyes:

Now if thou would'st, when all have given him over,

From death to life thou might'st him yet re

Which he neglects the while,
As from a nation vile,
Yet with an angry smile,
Their fall portending;

And, turning to his men,
Quoth famous Henry then,
"Though they to one be ten,
Be not amazed;

Yet have we well begun,
Battles so bravely won
Ever more to the sun

By fame are raised.

"And for myself," quoth he,
"This my full rest shall be,
England ne'er mourn for me,
Nor more esteem me.

Victor I will remain,
Or on this earth be slain,
Never shall she sustain

Loss to redeem me.

"Poyters and Cressy tell, When most their pride did swell, Under our swords they fell,

No less our skill is

Than when our grandsire great,
Claiming the regal seat,
In many a warlike feat

Lopp'd the French lilies."

The Duke of York' so dread,
The eager vaward led;
With the main Henry sped,
Amongst his henchmen.3
Excester had the rear,
A braver man not there,
And now preparing were

For the false Frenchman,
And ready to be gone,
Armor on armor shone,
Drum unto drum did groan,
To hear was wonder;
That with the cries they make
The very earth did shake,
Trumpet to trumpet spake,
Thunder to thunder.

Well it thine age became,
O noble Erpingham,

Thou did'st the signal frame
Unto the forces;
When from a meadow by,
Like a storm suddenly,
The English archery

Stuck the French horses.

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The Spanish yew so strong,

That like to serpents stong,

Which in his height of pride,

As Henry to deride,

His ransom to provide

Unto him sending;

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1 The Britons of Cambria, or Wales, as distinguished from the Britons of Cornwall and Armorica. The harp was intimately associated with the Welsh poetry as it was with that of Celtic Ireland.

Arrows a cloth-yard long,

Piercing the wether;

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2 Edward, second Duke of York, and grandson of Edward III.

3 Followers.

4 Sir Thomas Erpingham, "who threw up his truncheon as a signal to the English forces, who lay in ambush, to advance."

Holla, ye pampered jades of Asia!
What! can ye draw but twenty miles a day,
And have so proud a chariot at your heels,
And such a coachman as great Tamburlaine,
But from Asphaltis, where I conquered you, 5
To Byron here, where thus I honour you?
The horse that guide the golden eye of Heaven,
And blow the morning from their nosterils,
Making their fiery gait above the clouds,
Are not so honoured in their governor,
As you, ye slaves, in mighty Tamburlaine.
The headstrong jades of Thrace Alcides tamed,
That King Egeus fed with human flesh,
And made so wanton, that they knew their
strengths,

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1 Tamburlaine, or Tamerlaine, i. e. the Tartar conqueror Timur or Timour (1333-1405), who subdued Persia, central Asia, and finally a great part of India. The first part of Marlowe's Tamburlaine was acted in 1587.

2 Rule.

1 We must imagine Tamburlaine, in this scene, standing in his chariot, which is drawn by the conquered Kings of Trebizond and Syria. The Kings have bits in their mouths, and Tamburlaine drives them before him, lashing them with his whip.

Were not subdued with valour more divine Than you by this unconquered arm of mine. To make you fierce, and fit my appetite, You shall be fed with flesh as raw as blood, And drink in pails the strongest muscadel; If you can live with it, then live, and draw My chariot swifter than the racking clouds; If not, then die like beasts, and fit for naught But perches for the black and fatal ravens, Thus am I right the highest scourge of Jove; And see the figure of my dignity

By which I hold my name and majesty!

FAUSTUS' VISION OF HELEN

(From Doctor Faustus, Pub. 1604)

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Was this the face that launched a thousand ships,

And burnt the topless towers of Ilium!
Sweet Helen, make me immortal with a kiss.
Her lips suck forth my soul! see where it flies;
Come, Helen, come, give me my soul again.
Here will I dwell, for heaven is in these lips,
And all is dross that is not Helena.

I will be Paris, and for love of thee,
Instead of Troy, shall Wittenberg be sacked;
And I will combat with weak Menelaus,
And wear thy colours on my plumèd crest:
Yea I will wound Achilles in the heel,
And then return to Helen for a kiss.
Oh! thou art fairer than the evening air
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars;
Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter,
When he appeared to hapless Semele;
More lovely than the monarch of the sky
In wanton Arethusa's azure arms;
And none but thou shalt be my paramour!

FAUSTUS FULFILS HIS COMPACT WITH THE DEVIL

(From the same, Act V. sc. IV.)

Oh, Faustus!

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