Of stature tall, and straightly fashioned,
Like his desire, lift upwards and divine,
So large of lims, his joints so strongly knit,
Such breadth of shoulders as might mainely beare
Olde Atlas
burthen. Twixt
his manly pitch,
A pearle more worth, then all the world is plaste:
Wherein by curious soveraintie of Art,
Are fixt his piercing instruments of sight:
Whose fiery cyrcles beare encompassed
A heaven of heavenly bodies in their Spheares
That guides his steps and actions to the throne,
Where honor sits invested royally:
Pale of complexion: wrought in him with passion,
Thirsting with soverainty,
with love of armes:
His lofty browes in foldes, do figure death,
And in their smoothnesse, amitie and life:
About them hangs a knot of Amber heire,
Wrapped in curles, as fierce Achilles was,
On which the breath of heaven delights to play,
Making it daunce with wanton majestie:
His armes andfingers long and sinowy,
Betokening valour and excesse of strength:
In every part proportioned like the man,
Should make the world subdued to Tamburlaine.
