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Where shaking ghosts with ever-howling. groans
Hover about the ugly ferryman,
To get a passage to Elysium!
Why should we live? O, wretches, beggars, slaves!
Why live we, Bajazet, and build up nests
So high within the region of the air
By living long in this oppression,
That all the world will see and laugh to scorn
The former triumphs of our mightiness
In this obscure infernal servitude?
Ba J. O life, more loathsome to my vexed thoughts Than noisome parbreak of the Stygian snakes, Which fill the nooks of hell with standing air, Infecting all the ghosts with cureless griefs! O dreary engines of my loathed sight That see my crown, my honour, and my name Thrust under yoke and thraldom of a thief, Why feed ye still on day's accursed beams And sink not quite into my tortured soul? You see my wife, my queen, and emperess, Brought up and propped by the hand of fame, Queen of fifteen contributory queens, Now thrown to rooms of black abjection, Smeared with blots of basest drudgery And villainess to shame, disdain, and misery. Accursed Bajazet, whose words of ruth, (That would with pity cheer Zabina's heart, And make our souls resolve in ceaseless tears;) Sharp hunger bites upon, and gripes the root, From whence the issues of my thoughts do break;
0 poor Zabi a! O my queen! my queen!
1 may pour forth my soul into thine arms
Zab. Sweet Bajazet! I will prolong thy life,
[She goes out.
Baj. Now, Bajazet, abridge thy baneful days,
• band, in both the 8vo. and 4to.
Pierce through the centre of my wither'd heart,
[He brains himself against the cage.
Zab. What do mine eyes behold? my husband
His skull all riv'n in twain! his brains dash'd out,
[She runs against the cage and brains herself.
Zf.no. Wretched Zenocrate ! that liv'st to see
(Whose looks might make the angry god of arms
To break his sword and mildly treat of love)
On horsemen's lances to be hoisted up
And guiltlessly endure a cruel death:
For ev'ry fell and stout Tartarian steed,
That stampt on others with their thund'ring hoofs,
When all their riders charg'd their quiv'ring spears,
Began to check the ground and rein themselves.
Gazing upon the beauty of their looks.—
Oh, Tamburlaine! wert thou the cause of this
That term'st Zenocrate thy dearest love?
Whose lives were dearer to Zenocrate
Than her own life; or ought save thine own love.
But see another bloody spectacle!
Ah, wretched eyes, the en'mies of my heart,
How are ye glutted with these grievous objects,
And tell my soul more tales of bleeding ruth!
See, see, Anippe, if they breathe or no.
Anippe. No breath, nor sense, nor motion, in
Ah, madam ! this their slav'ry hath enforc'd,
Zeno. Earth, cast up fountains from thy entrails,
Vol. i. 6
Ah, Tamburlaine! my love! sweet Tamburlaine!
Behold the Turk and his great Emperess!
Ah, mighty Jove and holy Mahomet,
P»rdon my love!—Oh, pardon his contempt
Of earthly fortune and respect of pity,
And let not conquest, ruthlessly pursu'd,
Be equally against his life incens'd,
In this great Turk and hapless Emperess!
And pardon me that was not mov'd with ruth
To see them live so long in misery!
Ah, what may chance to thee, Zenocrate?
Anippe. Madam, content yourself, and be resolv'd Your love hath fortune so at his command, That she shall stay and turn her wheel no more, As long as life maintains his mighty arm That fights for honour to adorn your head. Enter Philemus, a Messenger.
Zeno. What other heavy news now brings Philemus?
Phil. Madam, your father, and th' Arabian king The first aflfecter of your excellence, Come now, as Turnus 'gainst ./Eneas did, Armed with lance into th' ./Egyptian fields, Ready for battle 'gainst my lord, the king.