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.