winds and dreadful thunder-claps, That in this terror Tamburlaine may live, And my pin'd soul, resolv'd in liquid air, May still excruciate his tormented thoughts! Then let the stony dart of senseless cold Pierce through the centre of my wither'd heart, And make a passage for my loathed life! [He brains himself against the cage.] Re-enter ZABINA. ZABINA. What do mine eyes behold? my husband dead! His skull all riven in twain! his brains dash'd out, The brains of Bajazeth, my lord and sovereign! 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 again.—Tear me in pieces—give 287 me the sword with a ball of wild-fire upon it.—Down with him! down with him!—Go to my child; away, away, away! ah, save that infant! save him, save him!—I, even I, speak to her. 288—The sun was down—streamers white, red, black—Here, here, here!—Fling the meat in his face—Tamburlaine, Tamburlaine!—Let the soldiers be buried.—Hell, death, Tamburlaine, 289 hell!—Make ready my coach, 290 my chair, my jewels.—I come, I come, I come! 291 [She runs against the cage, and brains herself.] Enter ZENOCRATE with ANIPPE. ZENOCRATE. Wretched Zenocrate! that liv'st to see Damascus' walls dy'd with Egyptians' 292 blood, Thy father's subjects and thy countrymen; The 293 streets strow'd with dissever'd joints of men, And wounded bodies gasping yet for life; But most accurs'd, to see the sun-bright troop Of heavenly virgins and unspotted maids (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 every fell and stout Tartarian steed, That stamp'd on others with their thundering hoofs, When all their riders charg'd their quivering spears, Began to check the ground and rein themselves, Gazing upon the beauty of their looks. Ah, 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 aught save thine own love. But see, another bloody spectacle! Ah, wretched eyes, the enemies 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 them both: Ah, madam, this their slavery hath enforc'd, And ruthless cruelty of Tamburlaine! ZENOCRATE. Earth, cast up fountains from thy 294 entrails,