TAMBURLAINE. Black is the beauty of the brightest day; The golden ball of heaven's eternal fire, That danc'd with glory on the silver waves, Now wants the fuel that inflam'd his beams; And all with faintness, and for foul disgrace, He binds his temples with a frowning cloud, Ready to darken earth with endless night. Zenocrate, that gave him light and life, Whose eyes shot fire from their [82] ivory brows, [83] And temper'd every soul with lively heat, Now by the malice of the angry skies, Whose jealousy admits no second mate, Draws in the comfort of her latest breath, All dazzled with the hellish mists of death. Now walk the angels on the walls of heaven, As sentinels to warn th' immortal souls To entertain divine Zenocrate: Apollo, Cynthia, and the ceaseless lamps That gently look'd upon this [84] loathsome earth, Shine downwards now no more, but deck the heavens To entertain divine Zenocrate: The crystal springs, whose taste illuminates Refined eyes with an eternal sight, Like tried silver run through Paradise To entertain divine Zenocrate: The cherubins and holy seraphins, That sing and play before the King of Kings, Use all their voices and their instruments To entertain divine Zenocrate; And, in this sweet and curious harmony, The god that tunes this music to our souls Holds out his hand in highest majesty To entertain divine Zenocrate. Then let some holy trance convey my thoughts Up to the palace of th' empyreal heaven, That this my life may be as short to me As are the days of sweet Zenocrate.-- Physicians, will no [85] physic do her good? FIRST PHYSICIAN. My lord, your majesty shall soon perceive, An if she pass this fit, the worst is past. TAMBURLAINE. Tell me, how fares my fair Zenocrate? ZENOCRATE. I fare, my lord, as other empresses, That, when this frail and [86] transitory flesh Hath suck'd the measure of that vital air That feeds the body with his dated health, Wane with enforc'd and necessary change. TAMBURLAINE. May never such a change transform my love, In whose sweet being I repose my life! Whose heavenly presence, beautified with health, Gives light to Phoebus and the fixed stars; Whose absence makes [87] the sun and moon as dark As when, oppos'd in one diameter, Their spheres are mounted on the serpent's head, Or else descended to his winding train. Live still, my love, and so conserve my life, Or, dying, be the author [88] of my death.