Tamburlaine monologue (Act 1) — Tamburlaine the Great — Part 2

When heaven shall cease to move on both the poles, And when the ground, whereon my soldiers march, Shall rise aloft and touch the horned moon; And not before, my sweet Zenocrate. Sit up, and rest thee like a lovely queen. So; now she sits in pomp and majesty, When these, my sons, more precious in mine eyes Than all the wealthy kingdoms I subdu'd, Plac'd by her side, look on their mother's face. But yet methinks their looks are amorous, Not martial as the sons of Tamburlaine: Water and air, being symboliz'd in one, Argue their want of courage and of wit; Their hair as white as milk, and soft as down, (Which should be like the quills of porcupines, As black as jet, and hard as iron or steel,) Bewrays they are too dainty for the wars; Their fingers made to quaver on a lute, Their arms to hang about a lady's neck, Their legs to dance and caper in the air, Would make me think them bastards, not my sons, But that I know they issu'd from thy womb, That never look'd on man but Tamburlaine.