the town. 'At a touch of the master's hand the heavy-gaited verses took symmetry and shape. That the blank verse of Tamburlaine left much to be desired in the way of variety is undeniable. Its sonorous music is fitted rather for epic than dramatic purposes. .. Later, Marlowe learned to breathe sweetness and softness into his "mighty line," to make the measure that had thundered the threats of Tamburlaine falter the sobs of a broken heart,' 82 This drama of the young poet-he was but threeand-twenty-produces an impression of having been wholly and solely the work of Marlowe, written without the assistance of any collaborateur, and without having been modified by the subsequent insertion of extraneous or added matter. Even if the published copy were pirated, the drama seems entirely by Marlowe, and palpably the product of a young, unrestrained, impetuous genius, with all the glow of youth about it. The reader feels as if in personal contact with the hero, identifying him with the author himself. Tamburlaine is the incarnation of audacious ambition and endowed with invincible faith in himself and in his fortune. Inspired with the conviction that earthly glories are more real than spiritual, earthly pomp more substantial than priestly promise with what intense scorn does the ever-triumphant Tamburlaine regard conquered kings frantically appealing to their deaf, dumb deities! With what audacity does he question ancient faiths and scoff at time-honoured superstitions! Priests and their prayers had ofttimes been scoffed at, defeated monarchs been derided, but in such cases it had ever been the individual, and not the system, who had been contemned. Now, tor the first time, did undaunted genius dare to question the credibility of creeds and the divine right of kings! With ruthless and insolent logic did Tamburlaine expose the imaginary strength of all these spiritual things as compared with the material results of human power! Judged by any English play previously produced the results were marvellous. Nothing existed, either by predecessor or contemporary, with which it could be compared. Even the mere mechanical skill with which it was constructed was so great an advance upon the work of other men. His contemporaries were still using alliteration, the rusty old weapon bequeathed to them by their forefathers, without regarding its force or fitness, but in Marlowe's hands it became a plastic thing of power and beauty. Marlowe's conception of his hero, with his infinite ambition, his inordinate lust of dominion, and unbounded belief in his own victorious destiny, was wholly his own. The mere story may have been due to the old chroniclers, to recent English translations from Pedro Mexia and Petrus Perondinus; but neither the Castilian of the one, nor the Latin of the other, gave hints of the character created by Marlowe. * Tamburlaine's tall stature and 'his joints so strongly knit' may have been suggested by one author, or even several; but this marvellous warrior, almost a demi-god, 'threatening the world with high astounding terms'-terms which would be almost ludicrous were they not foreshadowings of such terrible realities -was the conception and design of none but the gentle, kind, youthful Cantab. No one save Marlowe, and he only by the gift of his rare genius, has ever exalted to real grandeur the vulgar lust of earthly power, until it becomes 'like his desire, lift upward and divine. He sets forth Tamburlaine's aspirations for sovereignty over his fellowmen in these lines: 'Nature .. Doth teach us all to have aspiring minds: The sweet fruition of an earthly crown.' The bathos of the conclusion, even if it be correctly transcribed, and if no connecting lines have fallen out, cannot destroy the grandeur of the poet's aspirations, 'still climbing after knowledge infinite.' That he did intend the splendours of sovereignty to be glorified is confirmed by other passages in his writings; as in the reply of Theridamas to Tambur laine's question, 'Is it not passing brave to be a king?' 'A god is not so glorious as a king. I think the pleasures they enjoy in heaven, To ask and have; command and be obeyed; And in Henry the Sixth he reverts to the felicity of sovereignty : 'How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown, And all that poets feign of bliss and joy.' The involved metaphors of Marlowe's response to his self-set query, 'What is Beauty?' somewhat shroud, yet cannot nullify the poetry. It would be difficult, if not impossible, in the whole range of poetic literature to find a passage so nearly expressing the poet's aspirations to unburden his longings in words: If all the pens that ever poets held Had fed the feeling of their masters' thoughts, And all combined in beauty's worthiness, Yet should there hover in their restless heads One thought, one grace, one wonder, at the least, 1 Distil. Corrupt though these lines may be from what he originally wrote, they accord with Marlowe's frequently overwrought endeavours to 'wreak his soul upon expression.' Tamburlaine's ever-restless striving to do deeds never dared before are but expression of the poet's own aspiration, and serve to make the portrait autobiographical. Is not self-revelation made in such words as these? 'Shall we wish for aught The world affords in greatest novelty And rest attemptless, faint and destitute?' The There is little or no plot in Tamburlaine. drama is scarcely more than a series of living pictures, depicting this Scythian peasant overthrowing one mighty monarch after another, and scourging kingdoms with his conquering sword.' It does indeed require a great and thundering speech,' such as Tamburlaine's, to bring haughty monarchs and martial leaders to the knowledge of their helpless abasement, when they fall into the merciless hands of 'the scourge of God.' The play of Tamburlaine is beset with passages pregnant with beauty and splendour, or typical of the author's overweening self-confidence. This idiosyncrasy becomes truly magnificent in the audacious speeches of the Scythian shepherd. 'But since they measure our deserts so mean, |