My royal army is as great as his,
That from the bounds of
Phrigia to the sea
Which washeth Cyprus with his brinish waves,
Covers the tails, the valleies and the plainest
Viceroles and Peeres of
Turky
play the men,
Whet all your swords to mangle Tamburlain
,
His sonnes, his Captaines and his followers,
By Mahomet not one of them shal live.
The field wherin this battaile shall be fought,
For ever
terme, the Perseans sepulchre,
In memorie of this our victory.
