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.

Scen. 1.

Caesar, Volusene, Attendants.

Caes.

A Story ist, or fable; That sterne Mars, Thy waight did Romulus sleepy mother presse? Since we thy Brood degenerous, stand at gaze, Charm'd in the circle of a foaming flood, And traile our dastard pikes? Burst Ianus prison, Roare as thou didst at Troy, drowne Stentors voice By many eights, which Pindus may re-beate, Which Caucasus may as a Catch repeate, And Taurus lough the fame: That Pygmees small May squeake, It thunders, and diue into burroughs. Let the foure winds with dreadfull clamour sing Thy anger through the affrighted world. What Lemnian chaine shackles our mounting Eagle? The Moone's round Concaue is too strait a cage For her aduanced Pineons.

Enter Mandubrace wounded and bloody, with Androg. young son.

Mane.

If pitty can haue roome in angry breast, Fauour a Britaine Prince, his Father slaine, His regiment bereft, his dearest blood Drawne by the sword of false Cassibelane. Hauing got Crowne, he then strucke at my head: Nor can I safely sucke my natiue aire. His Coosse Androgeus also, and whole regions In open warre withstand his violence. Lo, Albions aged armes spread wide t'inchaine Thee as her Patrone, in a true-loue knot. Wherefore dread Caesar, let thy mercy strike Reuengefull fire; and be iustly stil'd,

kneeles.

Tamer of Tyrants. Then fame blowes aloud, When valour helpes the weake, pulles downe the proud.

Caes.

Arise vnhappy Prince, our deeds shall show, We grant thy suite.

To Volusene.

Fortune repents at last; The Moone is chang'd, the Globe doth to vs turne Her shining cheeke, and woes vs with a smile. But what firme signes of Faith, what faithfull aide, What furtherance can you giue at our arriuall?

Mand.

See here Androgeus heire, whose tender age His Father venters, and makes bold with nature, To pledge his Darling. He and thirtie more Of noble linage shall assure our faith: Besides I pawne my life.

Caes.

Enough. I'le once more crosse the Seas, For your good, more than mine; That happier skie May blesse your Townes with peace, your fields with plentie; Perpetuall spring in gay perfum'd attire, Sirname your Ile, the Garden of the West.

Mand.

Thanks, gracious Caesar, for this kind acceptance, My knee doth kisse the ground, my lippe your knee. Pardon ye gods, if any haunt our land, Ye Nymphes, and Lares, Fawnes, and Silvanes wild; That thus I bring a stranger on our coasts, Whose forraine shape and language, may affright Our lazie clownes, and on my Countries backe Once tread victorious steps: Be pleas'd to view, Wrongs now redrest, neglected first by you.

Caes.

Now Volusene: Our glorious state, like the noone-pointed Sunne, When he bestrides the Lyons flaming fleece, Doth North-west rowle his burning brand, whose fire The Oceans blue lake cannot stop, but flies With brighter blaze to thaw the frozen Iles. But how proceedes our preparation?

Volus.

Many strong Ships are built, fiue Legions arm'd Readie to launch.

Caes.

Blow gently Africus, Play on our poopes: When Hyperions Sonne Shall couch in West his fome-bedappled iades; Wee'l rise to runne our course.

Exeunt.