moon renew her borrow'd light, Doubt not, my lord and gracious sovereign, But Tamburlaine and that Tartarian rout 11 Shall either perish by our warlike hands, Or plead for mercy at your highness' feet. MYCETES. Go, stout Theridamas; thy words are swords, And with thy looks thou conquerest all thy foes. I long to see thee back return from thence, That I may view these milk-white steeds of mine All loaden with the heads of killed men, And, from their knees even to their hoofs below, Besmear'd with blood that makes a dainty show. THERIDAMAS. Then now, my lord, I humbly take my leave. MYCETES. Theridamas, farewell ten thousand times.            [Exit THERIDAMAS.]       Ah, Menaphon, why stay'st thou thus behind, When other men press 12 forward for renown? Go, Menaphon, go into Scythia, And foot by foot follow Theridamas. COSROE. Nay, pray you, 13 let him stay; a greater [task]      Fits Menaphon than warring with a thief:      Create him pro-rex of all 14 Africa, That he may win the Babylonians' hearts, Which will revolt from Persian government, Unless they have a wiser king than you. MYCETES. Unless they have a wiser king than you! These are his words; Meander, set them down. COSROE. And add this to them,—that all Asia Lament to see the folly of their king.       MYCETES. Well, here I swear by this my royal seat—       COSROE. You may do well to kiss it, then. MYCETES. Emboss'd with silk as best beseems my state, To be reveng'd for these contemptuous words! O, where is duty and allegiance now? Fled to the Caspian or the Ocean main? What shall I call thee? brother? no, a foe; Monster of nature, shame unto thy stock, That dar'st presume thy sovereign for to mock!—      Meander, come:  I am abus'd, Meander.            [Exeunt all except COSROE and MENAPHON.]       MENAPHON. How now, my lord! what, mated 15 and amaz'd To hear the king thus threaten like himself! COSROE. Ah, Menaphon, I pass not 16 for his threats! The plot is laid by Persian noblemen And captains of the Median garrisons To crown me emperor of Asia:      But this it is that doth excruciate The very substance of my vexed soul, To see our neighbours, that were wont to quake And tremble at the Persian monarch's name, Now sit and laugh our regiment 17 to scorn; And that which might resolve 18 me into tears, Men from the farthest equinoctial line Have swarm'd in troops into the Eastern India, Lading their ships 19 with gold and precious stones, And made their spoils from all our provinces. MENAPHON. This should entreat your highness to rejoice, Since Fortune 

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