Such good successe happen to Bajazeth.

Base Concubine, must thou be plac'd by me

That am the Empresse of the mighty Turke?

To Tamburlaine the great Tartarian thiefe?

And sue to thee? I tell thee shamelesse girle,

Thou shalt be Landresse to my waiting maid.

How lik'st thou her Ebea , will she serve?

Now Mahomet, solicit God himselfe,

And make him raine down murthering shot from heaven

To dash the Scythians braines, and strike them dead,

That dare to manage armes with him,

That offered jewels to thy sacred shrine,

When first he war'd against the Christians.

Thou art deceiv'd, I heard the Trumpets sound,

As when my Emperour overthrew the Greeks:

And led them Captive into Affrica

Straight will I use thee as thy pride deserves:

Prepare thy selfe to live and die my slave.

No Tamburlain, though now thou gat the best,

Thou shalt not yet be Lord of Affrica .

Injurious villaines, thieves, runnagates,

How dare you thus abuse my Maiesty?

Though he be prisoner, he may be ransomed.

O cursed Mahomet that makest us thus

The slaves to Scythians rude and barbarous.

Unworthy king, that by thy crueltie,

Unlawfully usurpest the Persean seat:

Dar'st thou that never saw an Emperour,

Before thou met my husband in the field,

Being thy Captive, thus abuse his state,

Keeping his kingly body in a Cage,

That rooffes of golde, and sun-bright Pallaces,

Should have prepar'd to entertaine his Grace?

And treading him beneath thy loathsome feet,

Whose feet the kings of Affrica have kist.

And may this banquet proove as omenous,

As Prognes toth'adulterous Thracian King,

That fed upon the substance of his child.

Eat Bajazeth . Let us live in spite of them, looking some happie power will pitie and inlarge us.

Let all the swords and Lances in the field,

Stick in his breast, as in their proper roomes.

At every pore let blood comme dropping foorth,

That lingring paines may massacre his heart.

And madnesse send his damned soule to hell.

Then is there left no Mahomet, no God,

No Feend, no Fortune, nor no hope of end

To our infamous monstrous slaveries?

Gape earth, and let the Feends infernall view

A hell, as hoplesse and as full of feare,

As are the blasted banks of Erelus:

Where shaking ghosts with ever howling gropes,

Hover about the ugly Ferriman, To get a passage to Elisiean .

Why should we live, O wretches, beggars, slaves,

Why live we Bajazeth, and build up neasts,

So high within the region of the aire,

By living long in this oppression,

That all the world will see and laugh to scorne,

The former triumphes of our mightines,

In this obscure infernall servitude?

Sweet Bajazeth, I will prolong thy life,

As long as any blood or sparke of breath

Can quench or coole the torments of my griefe.

What do mine eies behold, my husband dead?

His Skul al rivin in twain, his braines dasht out?

The braines of Bajazeth, my Lord and Soveraigne?

O Bajazeth, my husband and my Lord,

O Bajazeth, O Turk, O Emperor.

Give him his liquor? Not I, bring milk and fire, and my blood I bring him againe, teare me in peeces, give me the sworde with a ball of wildefire upon it. Downe with him, downe with him. Goe to, my child, away, away, away. Ah, save that Infant, save him, save him. I,even I speake to her. The Sun was downe. Streamers white, Red, Blacke. Here, here, here. Fling the meat in his face. Tamburlaine, Tamburlaine . Let the souldiers be buried. Hel, death, Tamburlain , Hell. Make ready my Coch, my chaire, my jewels, I come, I come, I come.