Wel hast thou pourtraid in thy tearms of life,
The face and personage of a woondrous man:
Nature doth strive with Fortune and his stars,
To make him famous in accomplisht woorth:
And well his merits show him to be made
His Fortunes maister, and the king of men,
That could perswade at such a sodaine pinch,
With reasons of his valour and his life,
A thousand sworne and overmatching foes:
Then when our powers in points of swords are join'd,
And closde in compasse of the killing bullet,
Though straight the passage and the port be made,
That leads to Pallace of my brothers life,
Proud is his fortune if we pierce it not.
And when the princely Persean Diadem,
Shall overway his wearie witlesse head,
And fall like mellowed fruit, with shakes of death,
In faire Persea noble Tamburlaine
Shall be my Regent, and remaine as King.
