Mockery and shouts of laughter greeted the appearance of the conquered lion from his intoxicated victors, and still Bajazet's face remained unchanged! Timur Lenk himself was drunk. Wine, victory, and revenge—this triple inebriety filled his veins.
"This glass I raise to the health of the master of half of this world," exclaimed the conqueror, and threw the contents upon his opponent's face in the cage.
Yet Bajazet's face remained unchanged!
"Bring fresh wine—more women slaves," said Timur Lenk, thumping with his hand, and Bajazet saw the figure of an elegant slender woman walking totteringly forward. On her head rested a floral wreath. Her hair hung loosely and carelessly around her. Her silken mantle was rent from top to bottom in accordance with Tartar fashion. This woman tottered, for she was herself intoxicated. She went forward to fill the Khan's glass, and in her Bajazet recognised Maria! This was the final blow to the captive Sultan when he saw his wife so humbled and tottering towards the Khan's footstool. Then he sprang up from his seat and grasped the iron bars of the cage, and burst out ravingly, "Oh, you demoniacal beast, Timur! You crippled dog, who have buried your soul's better part in your useless foot, and remain here living in this world, half of you a demon! You are no vanquisher of men! You have never wholly been a man. You can only revenge yourself on women. You grave-worm, who chew treacherously what a greater hero than you has let fall! Detestation rest upon your filthy name! Every woman will execrate you as a coward, and will throw your image on the ground to be played with and broken by her children. Disgrace be upon you and ignominy rest upon your belongings—you, who were hatched by a slave and will be buried by the executioner! You were born to drive camels, you wretch, and your father, who died on a dust-heap, was a better man than you! Faugh! I spit upon you! This will be the best spot in your filthy glory! Curses be upon you and upon your offshoots! Your soul to hell, and your bones to the dogs! Your name to derision! I shall await you, where both of us are to meet!"
With these words he struck his head with such force against the iron railings that he fell down dead.
Tamerlan could no longer joy in his opponent's impotent fury.
CHAPTER XV.
Timur Lenk arranged a pompous funeral for Bajazet. His entire troops came out to accompany the body. On his tombstone he caused to be engraved a recital of his glorious deeds, and he commanded the Sultan's women to wail and mourn for him. As he returned from the funeral ceremony his historian, Shacheddin, came before him, to read out what he had written down concerning the event, for the benefit of future generations. It was as follows:
"When Timur Djeihangir defeated his enemy and captured him, he treated him as a brother. He placed him next to him at table, calling him friend, and treated him with the distinction due to a Sovereign. When Bajazet, following fate's decree, departed to his ancestors, he had him buried like a King, and raised a royal mausoleum over his ashes. Glory be to Him who sees everything!"