Act 4, Scene 2[Enter] Tamburlain, Techelles, Theridamas, Usumcasane, Zenocrate Anippe, two Moores drawing Bajazeth in his cage, and his wife following him.
Bring out my foot-stoole.
They take him out of the cage.
Ye holy Priests of heavenly Mahomet,
That sacrificing slice and cut your flesh,
Staining his Altars with your purple blood:
Make heaven to frowne and every fixed starre
To sucke up poison from the moorish Fens,
And poure it in this glorious Tyrants throat.
The chiefest God, first moover of that Spheare
Enchac'd with thousands ever shining lamps,
Will sooner burne the glorious frame of Heaven,
Then it should so conspire my overthrow.
But Villaine, thou that wishest this to me,
Fall prostrate on the lowe disdainefull earth.
And be the foot-stoole of great Tamburlain,
That I may rise into my royall throne.
First shalt thou rip my bowels with thy sword,
And sacrifice my heart to death and hell,
Before I yeeld to such a slavery.
Base villain, vassall, slave to Tamburlaine:
Unworthy to imbrace or touch the ground,
That beares the honor of my royall weight.
Stoop villaine, stoope, stoope for so he bids,
That may command thee peecemeale to be tome,
Or scattered like the lofty Cedar trees,
Strooke with the voice of thundring Jupiter.
Then as I look downe to the damned Feends,
Feends looke on me, and thou dread God of hell,
With Eban Scepter strike this hatefull earth,
And make it swallow both of us at once.
He gets up upon him to his chaire.
Now cleare the triple region of the aire,
And let the majestie of heaven beholde
Their Scourge and Terrour treade on Emperours.
Smile Stars that raign'd at my nativity,
And dim the brightnesse of their neighbor Lamps:
Disdaine to borrow light of Cynthia,
For I the chiefest Lamp of all the earth,
First rising in the East with milde aspect,
But fixed now in the Meridian line,
Will send up fire to your turning Spheares,
And cause the Sun to borrowe light of you.
My sword stroke fire from his coat of steele,
Even in Bythinia, when I took this Turke:
As when a fiery exhalation
Wrapt in the bowels of a freezing cloude,
Fighting for passage, makes the Welkin cracke,
And casts a flash of lightning to the earth.
But ere I martch to wealthy Persea,
Or leave Damascus and th'Egyptian fields,
As was the fame of Clymens brain-sicke sonne,
That almost brent the Axeltree of heaven,
So shall our swords, our lances and our shot,
Fill all the aire with fiery meteors.
Then when the Sky shal waxe as red as blood,
It shall be said, Imade it red my selfe,
To make me think of nought but blood and war.
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.
Youmust devise some torment worsse, my Lord,
To make these captives reine their lavish tongues.
Zenocrate, looke better to your slave.
She is my Handmaids slave, and she shal looke
That these abuses flow not from her tongue:
Chide her Anippe.
Let these be warnings for you then my slave,
How you abuse the person of the king:
Or els I sweare to have you whips stark nak'd.
Great Tamburlaine, great in my overthrow,
Ambitious pride shall make thee fall as low,
For treading on the back of Bajazeth,
That should be horsed on fower mightie kings.
Thy names and tytles, and thy dignities,
Are fled from Bajazeth, and remaine with me,
That will maintaine it against a world of Kings.
Put him in againe.
[They put him into the cage.]
Is this a place for mighty Bajazeth?
Confusion light on him that helps thee thus.
There whiles he lives, shal Bajazeth be kept,
And where I goe be thus in triumph drawne:
And thou his wife shalt feed him with the scraps
My servitures shall bring the from my boord.
For he that gives him other food than this:
Shall sit by him and starve to death himselfe.
This is my minde, and I will have it so.
Not all the Kings and Emperours of the Earth:
If they would lay their crownes before my feet,
Shall ransome him, or take him from his cage.
The ages that shall talk of Tamburlain,
Even from this day to Platoes wondrous yeare,
Shall talke how I have handled Bajazeth
These Mores that drew him from Bythinia,
To faire Damascus, where we now remaine,
Shall lead him with us wheresoere we goe.
Techelles, and my loving followers,
Now may we see Damascus lofty towers,
Like to the shadowes of Pyramides,
That with their beauties grac'd the Memphion fields:
The golden stature of their feathered bird
That spreads her wings upon the citie wars,
Shall not defend it from our battering shot.
The townes-men maske in silke and cloath of gold,
And every house is as a treasurie.
The men, the treasure, and the towne is ours.
Your tentes of white now pitch'd before the gates
And gentle flags of amitie displaid.
I doubt not but the Governour will yeeld,
Offering Damascus to your Majesty.
So shall he have his life, and all the rest.
But if he stay until the bloody flag
Be once advanc'd on my vermilion Tent,
He dies, and those that kept us out so long.
And when they see me march in black aray
With mournfull streamers hanging down their heads,
Were in that citie all the world contain'd,
Not one should scape: but perish by our swords.
Yet would you have some pitie for my sake,
Because it is my countries, and my Fathers.
Not for the world Zenocrate, if I have sworn:
Come bring in the Turke.