Africa,
I came at last to Graecia, and from thence
To Asia, where I stay against my will;
Which is from Scythia, where I first began, [310]
Backward[s] and forwards near five thousand leagues.
Look here, my boys; see, what a world of ground
Lies westward from the midst of Cancer's line
Unto the rising of this [311] earthly globe,
Whereas the sun, declining from our sight,
Begins the day with our Antipodes!
And shall I die, and this unconquered?
Lo, here, my sons, are all the golden mines,
Inestimable drugs and precious stones,
More worth than Asia and the world beside;
And from th' Antarctic Pole eastward behold
As much more land, which never was descried,
Wherein are rocks of pearl that shine as bright
As all the lamps that beautify the sky!
And shall I die, and this unconquered?
Here, lovely boys; what death forbids my life,
That let your lives command in spite of death.

AMYRAS. Alas, my lord, how should our bleeding hearts,
Wounded and broken with your highness' grief,
Retain a thought of joy or spark of life?
Your soul gives essence to our wretched subjects, [312]
Whose matter is incorporate in your flesh.

CELEBINUS. Your pains do pierce our souls; no hope survives,
For by your life we entertain our lives.

TAMBURLAINE. But, sons, this subject, not of force enough
To hold the fiery spirit it contains,
Must part, imparting his impressions
By equal portions into [313] both your breasts;
My flesh, divided in your precious shapes,
Shall still retain my spirit, though I die,
And live in all your seeds [314] immortally.--
Then now remove me, that I may resign
My place and proper title to my son.--
First, take my scourge and my imperial crown,
And mount my royal chariot of estate,
That I may see thee crown'd before I die.--
Help me, my lords, to make my last remove.
[They assist TAMBURLAINE to descend from the chariot.]

THERIDAMAS. A woful change, my lord, that daunts our thoughts
More than the ruin of our proper souls!

TAMBURLAINE. Sit up, my son, [and] let me see how well
Thou wilt become thy father's majesty.

AMYRAS. With what a flinty bosom should I joy
The breath of life and burden of my soul,
If not resolv'd into resolved pains,
My body's mort