Fuimus Troes Æneid. 2. The true Troianes, being a story of the Britaines valour at the Romanes first inuasion: Publikely represented by the gentlemen students of Magdalen Colledge in Oxford.

About this Item

Title
Fuimus Troes Æneid. 2. The true Troianes, being a story of the Britaines valour at the Romanes first inuasion: Publikely represented by the gentlemen students of Magdalen Colledge in Oxford.
Author
Fisher, Jasper, b. 1591.
Publication
London :: Printed by I[ohn] L[egatt] for Robert Allot, and are to be sold at the signe of the Beare in Pauls-Churchyard,
1633.
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Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A00760.0001.001
Cite this Item
"Fuimus Troes Æneid. 2. The true Troianes, being a story of the Britaines valour at the Romanes first inuasion: Publikely represented by the gentlemen students of Magdalen Colledge in Oxford." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A00760.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed April 27, 2025.

Pages

Act. 3. Scen. 5.
Cassibelane, Belinus, Lantonus. Nennius in a chaire.
Nenn.
We wunne the day: and all our foes are fled?
Bel.
Yes noble Nennius, scatter'd on the shoare Thicke lay the Latines, and the glutted streame

Page [unnumbered]

Spewes vp her dead, whom death hath taught to swimme, Though ignorant aliue: Their flowing blood Made a new Red Sea. But those few we lost, Sweetly repos'd vpon their mothers breast, And wounded all before, kept in their face A warlike frowne.
Nenn.
Where is false Caesars sword, call'd Crocea Mors, Which neuer hurt, but kill'd: Let it be plac'd Within my tombe.
Bel.
Heere is the fatall Blade.
Nenn.
Death like a Parthian flies, and flying kils: In midst of Conquest came my deadly wound. Accursed weapon, more accursed man, Who Serpent-like in poyson bathes his sting: Tyber doth breed as venemous beasts as Nile: We skorne such cruell craft. But death drawes neere, A giddy horror seazeth on my braine. Deare Brother, and thou holy Priest of Heauen, Witnesse my words; I leaue my Country free, And dye a victour. Thus, with lighter wing My purified soule mounts to her First-best Cause. I long euen to behold those glorious Cloysters, Where Brutus, great Dunwallo, and his sonnes, Thrice noble Spirits walke. Thou mighty Enginer of this wondrous Globe, Protect this Ile, confound all forraine plots: Graunt Thames and Tyber neuer ioyne thair chanells; But may a naturall hate deriv'd from vs Liue still in our long-trailed progeny. (My eyes doe swimme in death.) Before this land shall weare the Romane yoke; Let first the adamantine axell cracke, Which bindes the Ball terrestriall to her poles, And dash the empty aire; Let Planets drop Their scalding gelly, and all flame being spent, Entombe the world in euerlasting smoake. Come faster, Death: I can behold thy grim,

Page [unnumbered]

And vgly Iawes with quiet mind: Now, now: I heare sweet musick; and my spirit flies.
he dies.
Cassi.
His breath is gone: who was his Countries prop, And my right hand. Now onely doth he craue, To see him laid with honour in the graue.
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