SCENE IV.

_The Banquet; and to it cometh_ TAMBURLAINE, _all in scarlet,_ [ZENOCRATE,] THERIDAMAS, TECHELLES, USUMCASANE, _the_ TURK [BAJAZETH _in his cage,_ ZABINA,] _with others._

_Tamb._ Now hang our bloody colours by Damascus, Reflexing hues of blood upon their heads, While they walk quivering on their city walls, Half dead for fear before they feel my wrath; Then let us freely banquet and carouse 5 Full bowls of wine unto the god of war That means to fill your helmets full of gold, And make Damascus spoils as rich to you, As was to Jason Colchos’ golden fleece.— And now, Bajazeth, hast thou any stomach? 10

_Baj._ Ay, such a stomach, cruel Tamburlaine, as I could willingly feed upon thy blood-raw heart.

_Tamb._ Nay thine own is easier to come by; pluck out that, and ’t will serve thee and thy (15) wife. Well, Zenocrate, Techelles, and the rest, fall to your victuals.

_Baj._ Fall to, and never may your meat digest! Ye Furies, that can mask invisible, Dive to the bottom of Avernus’ pool, 20 And in your hands bring hellish poison up And squeeze it in the cup of Tamburlaine! Or, winged snakes of Lerna, cast your stings, And leave your venoms in this tyrant’s dish!

_Zab._ And may this banquet prove as ominous As Progne’s to th’ adulterous Thracian king, 26 That fed upon the substance of his child.

_Zeno._ My lord, how can you [tamely][329] suffer these Outrageous curses by these slaves of yours?

_Tamb._ To let them see, divine Zenocrate, 30 I glory in the curses of my foes, Having the power from the imperial Heaven To turn them all upon their proper heads.

_Tech._ I pray you give them leave, madam; this speech is a goodly refreshing to them. 35

_Ther._ But if his highness would let them be fed, it would do them more good.

_Tamb._ Sirrah, why fall you not to? Are you so daintily brought up, you cannot eat your own flesh? 40

_Baj._ First, legions of devils shall tear thee in pieces.

_Usum._ Villain, know’st thou to whom thou speakest?

_Tamb._ O, let him alone. Here; eat, sir; (45) take it from my sword’s point, or I’ll thrust it to thy heart. _Bajazeth takes it and stamps upon it._

_Ther._ He stamps it under his feet, my lord.

_Tamb._ Take it up, villain, and eat it; or I will make thee slice the brawns of thy arms (50) into carbonadoes[330] and eat them.

_Usum._ Nay, ’twere better he kill’d his wife, and then she shall be sure not to be starv’d. And he be provided for a month’s victual beforehand. 55

_Tamb._ Here is my dagger: despatch her while she is fat; for if she live but a while longer, she will fall into a consumption with fretting, and then she will not be worth the eating.

_Ther._ Dost thou think that Mahomet will (60) suffer this?

_Tech._ ’Tis like he will when he cannot let[331] it.

_Tamb._ Go to; fall to your meat.—What, not a bit! Belike he hath not been watered today; (65) give him some drink.

_They give Bajazeth water to drink, and he flings it on the ground._

_Tamb._ Fast, and welcome, sir, while[332] hunger make you eat. How now, Zenocrate, doth not the Turk and his wife make a goodly show at a banquet? 70

_Zeno._ Yes, my lord.

_Ther._ Methinks, ’tis a great deal better than a consort[333] of music.

_Tamb._ Yet music would do well to cheer up Zenocrate. Pray thee tell why thou art so (75) sad? If thou wilt have a song, the Turk shall strain his voice. But why is it?

_Zeno._ My lord, to see my father’s town besieg’d, The country wasted where myself was born, How can it but afflict my very soul? 80 If any love remain in you, my lord, Or if my love unto your majesty May merit favour at your highness’ hands, Then raise your siege from fair Damascus’ walls, And with my father take a friendly truce. 85

_Tamb._ Zenocrate, were Egypt Jove’s own land, Yet would I with my sword make Jove to stoop. I will confute those blind geographers That make a triple region in the world, Excluding regions which I mean to trace, 90 And with this pen[334] reduce them to a map, Calling the provinces, cities, and towns, After my name and thine, Zenocrate. Here at Damascus will I make the point That shall begin the perpendicular; 95 And would’st thou have me buy thy father’s love With such a loss?—Tell me, Zenocrate.

_Zeno._ Honour still wait on happy Tamburlaine! Yet give me leave to plead for him, my lord.

_Tamb._ Content thyself: his person shall be safe 100 And all the friends of fair Zenocrate, If with their lives they will be pleas’d to yield, Or may be forc’d to make me Emperor; For Egypt and Arabia must be mine.— Feed, you slave! Thou may’st think thyself 105 happy to be fed from my trencher.

_Baj._ My empty stomach, full of idle heat, Draws bloody humours from my feeble parts, Preserving life by hasting cruel death. My veins are pale, my sinews hard and dry, 110 My joints benumb’d: unless I eat, I die.

_Zab._ Eat, Bajazeth. Let us live in spite of them, looking[335] some happy power will pity and enlarge[336] us.

_Tamb._ Here, Turk; wilt thou have a clean (115) trencher?

_Baj._ Ay, tyrant, and more meat.

_Tamb._ Soft, sir; you must be dieted; too much eating will make you surfeit.

_Ther._ So it would, my lord, specially having (120) so small a walk and so little exercise.

_Enter a second course of crowns._

_Tamb._ Theridamas, Techelles, and Casane, here are the cates you desire to finger, are they not?

_Ther._ Ay, my lord; but none save kings must feed with these. 125

_Tech._ ’T is enough for us to see them, and for Tamburlaine only to enjoy them.

_Tamb._ Well; here is now to the Soldan of Egypt, the King of Arabia, and the Governor (130) of Damascus. Now take these three crowns, and pledge me, my contributory kings. I crown you here, Theridamas, King of Argier; Techelles, King of Fez; and Usumcasane, King of Moroccus. How say you to this, Turk? These are (135) not your contributory kings.

_Baj._ Nor shall they long be thine, I warrant them.

_Tamb._ Kings of Argier, Moroccus, and of Fez, You that have march’d with happy Tamburlaine As far as from the frozen [plage[337]]of Heaven 140 Unto the watery morning’s ruddy bower,[338] And thence by land unto the torrid zone, Deserve these titles I endow you with By [valour[339]] and by magnanimity. Your births shall be no blemish to your fame, 145 For virtue is the fount whence honour springs, And they are worthy she investeth kings.

_Ther._ And since your highness hath so well vouchsaf’d, If we deserve them not with higher meeds Than erst our states and actions have retain’d 150 Take them away again and make us slaves.

_Tamb._ Well said, Theridamas; when holy fates Shall ’stablish me in strong Egyptia, We mean to travel to th’ antartic pole, Conquering the people underneath our feet, 155 And be renowm’d as never emperors were. Zenocrate, I will not crown thee yet, Until with greater honours I be grac’d. [_Exeunt._]