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Sharp hunger bites vpon and gripes the root:
From whence the issues of my thoughts doe breake. 2055
Fetch me some water for my burning breast,
I may poure foorth my soule into thine armes,
Zab. Sweet Baiazeth, I will prolong thy life,
She goes out.
Bai. Now Baiazeth, abridge thy banefull daies,
O highest Lamp of euerliuing Ioue,
Accursed day infected with my griefs,
Hide now thy stained face in endles night,
And shut the windowes of the lightsome heauens.
Let vgly darknesse with her rusty coach
Engyrt with tempests wrapt in pitchy clouds,
Pierce through the center of my withered heart,
He brains himself against the cage.
Zab. What do mine eies behold, my husband dead? His Skul al riuin in twain, his braines dasht out? The braines of Baiazeth, my Lord and Soueraigne ? O Baiazeth, my husband and my Lord,
2081 ayre 1605 elc.: ay
2068 thy braines 1590, 1592, Cunn. to Wag.: the braines 1605, Rob., Dyce 1590, 1592
2071 euerlasting 1605
O Baiazet, O Turk, O Emperor, giue him his liquor? Not I, bring milk and fire, and my blood I bring him againe, teare me in peeces, giue me the sworde with a ball of wildefire vpon it. Downe with him, downe with him. Goe to my child, away, away, away. Ah, saue that Infant, saue him, saue him. I, euen 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 iewels, I come, I come, I come.
She runs against the Cage and braines her selfe.
(Enter) Zenocrate wyth Anippe.
(Zen.) Wretched Zenocrate, that liuest to see,
Thy streetes strowed with disseuered iointes of men,
But most accurst, to see the Sun-bright troope
Whose lookes might make the angry God of armes,
That stampt on others with their thundring hooues
Than her owne life, or ought saue thine owne loue.
Ah wretched eies, the enemies of my hart,
How are ye glutted with these grieuous obiects,
See, se Anippe if they breathe or no.
Anip. No breath nor sence, nor motion in them both.
2092 giue] & giue 1592, Rob.
2097-8 Let.. Tamburlain om. 2100 I come
1605 2098 buried] cursed Rob.: burned Cunn.
om. 1605 S.D. Enter add. 1605
2104 Thy] The Dyce etc.
2101 Prefix Zen. add. 1605
Ah Madam, this their slauery hath Enforc'd,
Zen. Earth cast vp fountaines from thy entralles,
And yet wouldst shun the wauering turnes of war.
Ah myghty Ioue and holy Mahomet,
Pardon my Loue, oh pardon his contempt,
Of earthly fortune, and respect of pitie,
And let not conquest ruthlesly pursewde
Be equally against his life incenst,
In this great Turk and haplesse Emperesse.
And pardon me that was not moou'd with ruthe,
Ah what may chance to thee Zenocrate?
Anip. Madam content your self and be resolu'd,
Enter a Messenger (Philemus).
Zen. What other heauie news now brings Philemus?
The first affecter of your excellence,
Comes now as Turnus gainst Eneas did,
Armed with lance into the Egyptian fields,
Ready for battaile gainst my Lord the King.
Zen. Now shame and duty, loue and feare presents 2165 A thousand sorrowes to my martyred soule :
2129 thy] thine 1605
2138 fightst 1605, Dyce etc. warres 1605 2147 respect of] respective conj. Broughton S.D. a Messenger] Philemus Dyce etc.
Whom should I wish the fatall victory,
Must fight against my life and present loue:
And makes my deeds infamous through the world.
To pacifie my countrie and my loue,
Must Tamburlaine by their resistlesse powers,
Conclude a league of honor to my hope,
Then as the powers deuine haue preordainde,
Send like defence of faire Arabia.
They sound to the battaile. And Tamburlaine enioyes the
victory, after Arabia enters wounded.
Of this infamous Tyrants souldiers,
Ar. What cursed power guides the murthering hands,
That no escape may saue their enemies :
Nor fortune keep them selues from victory.
Lye down Arabia, wounded to the death,
And let Zenocrates faire eies beholde
That as for her thou bearst these wretched armes,
Euen so for her thou diest in these armes :
Leauing thy blood for witnesse of thy loue.
Zen. Too deare a witnesse for such loue my Lord.
Behold Zenocrate, the cursed obiect
Whose Fortunes neuer mastered her griefs:
Behold her wounded in conceit for thee,
As much as thy faire body is for me.
Ar. Then shal I die with full contented heart, Hauing beheld deuine Zenocrate,
Whose sight with ioy would take away my life,
Ah that the deadly panges I suffer now,
2177 finall] small 1592 2193 thy blood] my blood 1592
Haue chanc'd thy merits in this worthles bondage.
To driue all sorrow from my fainting soule :
Tam. Come happy Father of Zenocrate,
Though my right hand haue thus enthralled thee
Thy princely daughter here shall set thee free,
She that hath calmde the furie of my sword,
Which had ere this bin bathde in streames of blood, 2220
As vast and deep as Euphrates or Nile.
Zen: O sight thrice welcome to my ioiful soule,
To see the king my Father issue safe,
From dangerous battel of my conquering Loue.
Ioue viewing me in armes, lookes pale and wan,
Fearing my power should pull him from his throne.
And griesly death by running to and fro,
To doo their ceassles homag to my sword:
And here in Affrick where it seldom raines,
Haue swelling cloudes drawen from wide gasping woundes,
2217 haue] hath 1605 gaping Dyce