From jigging veins of rhyming mother wits, And such conceits as clownage keeps in pay, We'll lead you to the stately tent of war, Where you shall hear the Scythian Tamburlaine Threatening the world with high astounding terms, And scourging kingdoms with his conquering sword. View but his picture in this tragic glass, And then applaud his fortunes as you please.
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And sooner shall the sun fall from his sphere Than Tamburlaine be slain or overcome.
Permalink to quote #8 Where death cuts off the progress of his pomp And murderous fates throw all his triumphs down.
Permalink to quote #10 Is it not brave to be a king, Techelles? Usumcasane and Theridamas, Is it not passing brave to be a king, And ride in triumph through Persepolis?
Permalink to quote #7