I long, till Brusor be return'd from Rhodes, To know how he hath borne him 'gainst the Christians That are assembled there to try their valour: But more, to be well-assured by him, How Rhodes is fenc'd, and how I best may lay My never-failing siege to win that plot. For by the holy Alcoran I swear, I'll call my soldiers home from Persia, And let the Sophy breathe, and from the Russian broils Call home my hardy, dauntless janissaries, And from the other skirts of Christendom, Call home my bashaws and my men of war, And so beleaguer Rhodes by sea and land. That key will serve to open all the gates, Through which our passage cannot find a stop, Till it have prick'd the heart of Christendom, Which now that paltry island keeps from scathe. Say, brother Amurath, and, Haleb, say, What think you of our resolution? AMURATH. Great Soliman, heav'n's only substitute, And earth's commander under Mahomet, So counsel I, as thou thyself hast said. HALEB. Pardon me, dread sov'reign, I hold it not Good policy to call your forces home From Persia and Polonia, bending them Upon a paltry isle of small defence: A common press of base, superfluous Turks May soon be levied for so slight a task. Ah, Soliman! whose name hath shak'd thy foes, As withered leaves with autumn thrown down, Fog not thy glory with so foul eclipse; Let not thy soldiers sound a base retire, Till Persia stoop, and thou be conqueror. What scandal were it to thy mightiness, After so many valiant bashaws slain, Whose blood hath been manured to their earth, Whose bones hath made their deep ways passable, To sound a homeward, dull, and harsh retreat, Without a conquest or a mean[397] revenge? Strive not for Rhodes by letting Persia slip; The one's a lion almost brought to death, Whose skin will countervail the hunter's toil: The other is a wasp with threat'ning sting, Whose honey is not worth the taking up. AMURATH. Why, Haleb, didst thou not hear our brother swear Upon the Alcoran religiously, That he would make an universal camp Of all his scatter'd legions? and dar'st thou Infer a reason why it is not meet, After his highness swears it shall be so? Were it not thou art my father's son, And striving kindness wrestled not with ire, I would not hence till I had let thee know, What 'twere to thwart a monarch's holy oath. HALEB.