A chorographicall description of tracts, riuers, mountains, forests, and other parts of this renowned isle of Great Britain with intermixture of the most remarkeable stories, antiquities, wonders, rarities, pleasures, and commodities of the same. Diuided into two bookes; the latter containing twelue songs, neuer before imprinted. Digested into a poem by Michael Drayton. Esquire. With a table added, for direction to those occurrences of story and antiquitie, whereunto the course of the volume easily leades not.

POLY-OLBION. (Book 1)

The first Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

The sprightly Muse her wing displaie And the French Ilands first survaies, Beares-vp with Neptune, and in glory Transcends proud Cornwalls Promontorie; There crownes Mount-Michaell, and discries How all those Riuerets fall and rise; Then takes in Tamer, as shee bounds The Cornish and Deuonian grounds. And whilst the Deuonshire-Nymphes relate Their loues, their fortunes, and estate, Dert vndertaketh to reviue Our Brute, and sings his first arriue: Then North-ward to the verge shee bends, And her first Song at Ax shee ends.

OF Albions glorious 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Wonders whilst I write, The sundry varying soyles, the pleasures infinite (Where heate kills not the cold, nor cold expells the heat, The calmes too mildly small, nor winds too roughly great, Nor night doth hinder day, nor day the night doth wrong, The Summer not too short, the Winter not too long) What helpe shall I invoke to ayde my Muse the while?

Thou Genius of the place (this most renowned Ile) Which liuedst long before the All-earth-drowning Flood, Whilst yet the world did swarme with her Gigantick brood; Goe thou before me still thy circling shores about, And in this wandring Maze helpe to conduct me out: Direct my courie so right, as with thy hand to showe Which way thy Forrests range, which way thy Riuers flowe; Wise Genius, by thy helpe that so I may disery How thy faire Mountaines stand, and how thy Vallyes lie;

From those cleere pearlie Cleeues which see the Mornings pride, And check the surlie Impes of Neptune when they chide, Vnto the big-swolne waues in the a 1.1 Iberian streame, Where Titan still vnyokes his fiery-hoofed Teame, And oft his flaming locks in lushious Nectar steepes, When from Olympus top he plungeth in the Deepes: That from b 1.2 th' Armorick sands, on surging Neptunes leas Through the Hibernick Gulfe (those rough Vergiuian seas) My verse with wings of skill may flie a loftie gate, § As Amphitrite clips this Iland Fortunate, Till through the sleepy Maine to c 1.3 Thuly I haue gone, And seene the frozen Iles, the cold d 1.4 Ducalidon, § Amongst whose Iron rockes grym Saturne yet remaines, Bound in those gloomie Caues with Adamantine chaines.

Yee sacred e 1.5 Bards, that to your Harps melodious strings Sung th'ancient Heroës deeds (the monuments of Kings) And in your dreadfull verse ingrau'd the prophecies, The aged worlds descents, and Genealogies; If, as those f 1.6 Druides taught, which kept the British rites, And dwelt in darksome Groues, there counsailing with sprites (But their opinions faild, by error led awry, As since cleere truth hath shew'd to their posteritie) When these our soules by death our bodies doe forsake, § They instantlie againe doe other bodies take; I could haue wisht your spirits redoubled in my breast, To giue my verse applause, to times eternall rest.

Thus scarcelie said the Muse, but houering while she hung Vpon the g 1.7 Celtick wastes, the Sea-Nymphes loudlie sung: O euer-happie Iles, your heads so high that beare, By Nature stronglie fenc't, which neuer need to feare On Neptunes watry Realmes when Eolus raiseth warres, And euery billow bounds, as though to quench the starres: Faire Iersey first of these heere scattred in the Deepe, Peculiarlie that boast'st thy double-horned sheepe: Inferior nor to thee, thou Iernsey, brauelic crown'd With rough-imbatteld rocks, whose venom-hating ground The hardned Emerill hath, which thou abroad doost send: Thou Ligon, her belov'd, and Serk, that doost attend Her pleasure euerie howre; as Iethow, them at need, With Phesants, fallow Deere, and Conies that doost feed: Yee seauen small sister Iles, and Sorlings, which to see The halfe-sunk sea-man ioyes, or whatsoe're you be, From fruitfull Aurney, neere the ancient Celtick shore, To Vshant and the Seames, whereas those Nunnes of yore § Gaue answers from their Caues, and tooke what shapes they please: Ye happie Ilands set within the British Seas,

With shrill and iocund shouts, th'vnmeasur'd deepes awake, And let the Gods of Sea their secret Bowres forsake, Whilst our industrious Muse great Britaine forth shall bring, Crown'd with those glorious wreathes that beautifie the Spring; And whilst greene Thet is Nymphes, with many an amorous lay Sing our Invention safe vnto her long-wisht Bay. Vpon the vtmost end of Cornwalls furrowing beake, Where a 1.8 Bresan from the Land the tilting waues doth breake; The shore let her transcend, the b 1.9 Promont to discry, And viewe about the Point th'vnnumbred Fowle that fly. Some, rising like a storme from off the troubled sand, Seeme in their houering flight to shadow all the land; Some, sitting on the beach to prune their painted breasts, As if both earth and aire they onelie did possesse. Whence, climing to the Cleeues, her selfe she firmlie sets The Bourns, the Brooks, the Becks, the Rills, the Riuilets, Exactlie to deriue; receiuing in her way That straightned tongue of Land, where, at Mount-Michaells Bay, Rude Neptune cutting in, a cantle forth doth take; And, on the other side, Hayles vaster mouth doth make A * Chersonese thereof, the corner clipping in: Where to th'industrious Muse the Mount doth thus begin;

Before thou further passe, and leaue this setting shore, § Whose Townes vnto the Saints that liued heere of yore (Their fasting, works, & pray'rs, remaining to our shames) VVere rear'd, and iustly call'd by their peculiar names, The builders honour still; this due and let them haue, As deigne to drop a teare vpon each holie Graue; VVhose charitie and zeale, in steed of knowledge stood: For, surely in themselues they were right simply good. If, credulous too much, thereby th'offended heauen In their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 intents, yet be their sinnes forgiuen. Then from his rugged top the teares downe trickling fell; And in his passion stirr'd, againe began to tell Strange things, that in his daies times course had brought to pass, That fortie miles now Sea, sometimes firme fore-land was; And that a Forrest then, which now with him is Flood, § VVereof he first was call'd the Hoare-Rock in the Wood; Relating then how long this soile had laine forlorne, As that her Genius now had almost her forsworne, And of their ancient loue did vtterly repent, Sith to destroy her selfe that fatall toole she lent By which th'insatiate slaue her intrailes out doth draw, That thrusts his gripple hand into her golden mawe; And for his part doth wish, that it were in his power To let the Ocean in, her wholly to deuoure.

Which, Hayle doth ouer-heare, and much doth blame his rage, And told him (to his teeth) hee doated with his age. For Hayle (a lustie Nymph, bent all to amorous play, And hauing quicke recourse into the Seuerne Sea With Neptunes Pages oft disporting in the Deepe; One neuer touch't with care; but how her selfe to keepe In excellent estate) doth thus againe intreate; § Muse, leaue the wayward Mount to his distempred heate, Who nothing can produce but what doth taste of spight: Ile shew thee things of ours most worthy thy delight. Behold our Diamonds heere, as in the quart's they stand, By Nature neatly cut, as by a skilfull hand, Who varieth them in formes, both curiouslie and oft; Which for shee (wanting power) produceth them too soft, That vertue which she could not liberallie impart, Shee striueth to amend by her owne proper Art. Besides, the Seaholme heere, that spreadeth all our shore, The sick consuming man so powerfull to restore: Whose roote th'Eringo is, the reines that doth inflame So stronglie to performe the Cytheraean game, That generally approou'd, both farre and neere is sought. § And our Main-Amber heere, and Burien Trophy, thought Much wrongd, not yet preferd for wonders with the rest.

But, the laborious Muse, vpon her iourney prest, Thus vttereth to her selfe; To guide my course aright, What Mound or steddie Mere is offered to my sight Vpon this out-stretcht Arme, whilst sayling heere at ease, Betwixt the Southern waste, and the Subrinian seas, I view those wanton Brookes, that waxing, still doe wane; That scarcelie can conceiue, but brought to bed againe; Scarce rising from the Spring (that is their naturall Mother) To growe into a streame, but buried in another. When Chore doth call her on, that wholly doth betake Her selfe vnto the Loo; transform'd into a Lake, Through that impatient loue shee had to entertaine The lustfull Neptune oft; whom when his wracks restraine, Impatient of the wrong, impetuouslie hee raues: And in his ragefull flowe, the furious King of waues, Breaks foming o're the Beach, whom nothing seemes to coole, Till he haue wrought his will on that capacious Poole: Where Menedge, by his Brookes, a * 1.10 Chersonese is cast, Widening the slender shore to ease it in the wast; A Promont iutting out into the dropping South, That with his threatning cleeues in horrid Neptunes mouth, Derides him and his power: nor cares how him he greets. Next, Roseland (as his friend, the mightier Menedge) meets

Great Neptune when he swells, and rageth at the Rocks (Set out into those seas) inforcing through his shocks Those armes of Sea, that thrust into the tinny strand, By their Meandred creeks indenting of that Land Whose fame by euerie tongue is for her Myneralls hurld, Neere from the mid-daies point, throughout the Westerne world. Heere Vale, a liuelie flood, her nobler name that giues To * 1.11 Flamouth; and by whom, it famous euer liues, Whose entrance is from sea so intricatelie wound, Her hauen angled so about her harbrous sound, That in her quiet Bay a hundred ships may ride, Yet not the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 mast, be of the tall'st descri'd; Her brauerie to this Nymph when neighbouring riuers told, Her mind to them againe shee brieflie doth vnfold;

Let * 1.12 Camell, of her course, and curious windings boast, In that her Greatnessraignes sole Mistress of that coast Twixt Tamer and that Bay, where Hayle poures forth her pride: And let vs (nobler Nymphs) vpon the mid-daie side, Be frolick with the best. Thou Foy, before vs all, By thine owne named Towne made famous in thy fall, As Low, amongst vs heere; a most delicious Brooke, With all our sister Nymphes, that to the noone-sted looke, Which glyding from the hills; vpon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ore, Betwixt your high-rear'd banks, resort to this our shore: Lov'd streames, let vs exolt, and thinke our selues no lesse Then those vpon their side, the Setting that possesse.

Which, Camell ouer-heard: but what doth sherespect Their taunts, her proper course that loosely doth neglect? As frantick, euer since her British Arthurs blood, By Mordreds murtherous hand was mingled with her flood. For, as that Riuer, best might boast that Conquerours breath, So sadlie shee bemoanes his too vntimelie death; Who, after twelue proud fields against the Saxon fought, Yet back vnto her banks by fate was lastly brought: As though no other place on Britaines spacious earth, Were worthie of his end, but where he had his birth: And carelesse euer since how shee her course doe steere, This muttreth to her selfe, in wandring here and there; Euen in the agedst face, where beautie once did dwell, And nature (in the least) but seemed to excell, Time cannot make such waste, but something wil appeare, To shewe some little tract of delicacie there. Or some religious worke, in building manie a day, That this penurious age hath suffred to decay, Some lim or modell, dragd out of the ruinous mass, The richness will declare in glorie whilst it was:

But time vpon my waste committed hath such theft, That it of Arthur heere scarce memorie hath left:

The Nine-ston'd Trophie thus whilst shee doth entertaine, Proude Tamer swoopes along, with such a lustie traine As fits so braue a flood two Countries that diuides: So, to increase herstrength, shee from her equall sides Receiues their seuerall rills; and of the Cornish kind, First, taketh Atre in: and her not much behind Comes Kensey: after whom, cleere Enian in doth make, In Tamers roomthier bankes, their rest that scarcelie take. Then Lyner, though the white aloofe shee seem'd to keepe, Her Soueraigne when shee sees t'approach the surgefull deepe, To beautifie her fall her plentious tribute brings. This honours Tamer much: that shee whose plentious springs, Those proud aspyring hills, Bromwelly and his frend High Rowter, from their tops impartiallie commend, And is by * 1.13 Carewes Muse, the riuer most renound, Associate should her grace to the Deuonian ground. Which in those other Brookes doth Emulation breed. Of which, first Car comes crown'd, with oziar, segs and reed: Then Lid creeps on along, and taking Thrushel, throwes Her selfe amongst the rocks; and so incauern'd goes, That of the blessed light (from other floods) debarr'd, To bellowe vnder earth, she onelie can be heard, As those that view her tract, seemes strangelie to affright: So, Toouy straineth in; and Plym, that claimes by right The christning of that Bay, which beares her nobler name. Vpon the British coast, what ship yet euer came * 1.14 That not of Plymouth heares, where those braue Nauies lie, From Canons thundring throats, that all the world defie? Which, to invasiue spoile, when th'English list to draw, Haue checkt Iberias pride, and held her oft in awe: Oft furnishing our Dames, with Indias rar'st deuices, And lent vs gold, and pearle, rich silks, and daintie spices. But Tamer takes the place, and all attend her here, A faithfull bound to both; and two that be so neare For likeliness of soile, and quantitie they hold, Before the Roman came; whose people were of old § Knowne by one generall name, vpon this point that dwell, All other of this Ile in wrastling that excell: With collars be they yokt, to proue the arme at length, Like Bulls set head to head, with meere delyuer strength: Or by the girdles graspt, they practise with the hip, * 1.15 The forward, backward, falx, the mare, the turne, the trip, When stript into their shirts, each other they invade Within a spacious ring, by the beholders made,

According to the law. Or when the Ball to throw, And driue it to the Gole, in squadrons forth they goe: And to auoid the troupes (their forces that fore-lay) Through dikes and riuers make, in this robustious play; By which, the toiles of warre most liuelie are exprest.

But Muse, may I demaund, Why these of all the rest (As mightie Albyons eld'st) most actiueare and strong? From * Corin came it first, or from the vse so long? * 1.16 § Or that this fore-land lies furth'st out into his sight, Which spreads his vigorous flames on euerie lesser light? With th'vertue of his beames, this place that doth inspire: Whose pregnant wombe prepar'd by his all-powerful fire, Being purelie hot and moist, proiects that fruitfull seed, Which stronglie doth beget, and doth as stronglie breed: The weldisposed heauen heere proouing to the earth, A Husband furthering fruite; a Midwife helping birth. But whilst th'industrious Muse thus labours to relate Those rillets that attend proud Tamer and her state, A neighbourer of this Nymphes, as high in Fortunes grace, And whence calme Tamer trippes, cleere Towridge in that place Is poured from her spring; and seemes at first to flowe That way which Tamer straines: but as she great doth growe Remembreth to fore-see, what Riualls she should find To interrupt her course: whose so vnsettled mind Ock comming in perceiues, & thus doth her perswade;

Now Neptune shield (bright Nymph) thy beautie should be made The obiect of her scorne, which (for thou canst not be Vpon the Southern side so absolute as shee) Will awe thee in thy course. Wherefore, faire flood recoile: And where thou maist alone be soueraigne of the soile, There exercise thy power, thy braueries and displaie: Turne Towridge, let vs back to the Sabrinian sea; Where Thetis handmaids still in that recoursefull deepe With those rough Gods of Sea, continuall reuells keepe; There maist thou liue admir'd, the mistress of the Lake.

Wise Ock shee doth obey, returning, and doth take The Tawe: which from her fount forc't on with amorous gales, And easely ambling downe through the Deuonian dales, Brings with her Moule and Bray, her banks that gentlie bathe; Which on her daintie breast, in many a siluer swathe Shee beares vnto that Bay, where Barstable beholds,. How her beloued Tawe cleere Towridge there enfolds.

The confluence of these Brooks divulg'd in Dertmoore, bred Distrust in her sad breast, that shee, so largelie spred, And in this spacious Shire the neer'st the Center set Of anie place of note; that these should brauelie get

The praise, from those that sprung out of her pearlie lap; Which, nourisht and bred vp at her most plentious pap, No sooner taught to dade, but from their Mother trip, And in their speedie course, striue others to out-strip. The Yalme, the Awne, the Aume, by spacious Dertmoore fed, And in the Southern Sea, b'ing like wise brought to bed; That these were not of power to publish her desert, Much grieu'd the ancient Moore: which vnderstood by Dert (From all the other floods that onely takes her name, And as her eld'st (in right) the heire of all her fame) To shew her nobler spirit it greatlie doth behoue.

Deare Mother, from your breast this feare (quoth she) remoue: Defie their vtmost force: ther's not the proudest flood, That falls betwixt the Mount and Exmore, shall make good Her royaltie with mine, with me nor can compare: I challenge any one, to answere me that dare; That was, before them all, predestinate to meet My Britaine-founding Brute, when with his puissant fleet At Totnesse first he toucht: which shall renowne my streame §. (Which now the enuious world doth slander for a dreame.) VVhose fatall flight from Greece, his fortunate arriue In happy Albyon heere whilst stronglie I reuiue, Deare Harburne at thy hands this credit let me win, Quoth she, that as thou hast my faithfull hand-maid bin: So now (my onelie Brooke) assist me with thy spring, Whilst of the God-like Brute the storie thus I sing.

VVhen long-renowned Troy lay spent in hostile fire, And aged Priams pompe did with her flames expire, Aeneas (taking thence Ascanius, his young sonne, And his most reuerent Sire, the graue Anchises, wonne From sholes of slaughtering Greeks) set out from Simois shores; And through the Tirrhene Sea, by strength of toyling ores, Raught Italie at last: where, King Latinus lent Safe harbor for his ships, with wrackfull tempests rent: When, in the Latine Court, Lauinia young and faire (Her Fathers onely child, and kingdoms onely heire) Vpon the Troian Lord her liking stronglie plac't, And languisht in the fiers that her faire breast imbrac't: But, Turnus (at that time) the proud Rutulian King, A suter to the maid, Aeneas malicing, By force of Armes attempts, his riuall to extrude: But, by the Teucrian power courageouslie subdu'd, Bright Cythereas sonne the Latine crowne obtain'd; And dying, in his stead his sonne Ascanius raign'd. §. Next, Siluius him succeeds, begetting Brute againe: Who in his Mothers wombe whilst yet he did remaine,

The Oracles gaue out, that next borne Brate should bee §. His Parents onelie death: vvhich soone they liv'd to see. For, in his painfull birth his Mother did depart; And ere his fifteenth yeere, in hunting of a Hart, He with a lucklesse shaft his haplesse Father slew: For which, out of his throne, their King the Latines threw.

Who, wandring in the world, to Greece at last doth get. Where, whilst he liv'd vnknowne, and oft with want beset, He of the race of Troy a remnant hapt to find, There by the Grecians held; which (hauing still in mind Their tedious tenne yeeres warre, and famous Heroës slaine) In slauerie with them still those Troians did detaine: Which Pyrrhus thither brought (and did with hate pursue, To wreake Achilles death, at Troy whom Paris slew) There, by Pandrasus kept, in sad and seruile awe. Who, when they knew young Brute, & that braue shape they saw, They humbly him desire, that he a meane would bee, From those imperious Greeks, his country men to free.

Hee, finding out a rare and sprightly Youth, to fit His humour euery way, for courage, power, and wit, Assaracus (who, though that by his Sire he were A Prince amongst the Greeks, yet held the Troians deere; Descended of their stock vpon the Mothers side: For which, he by the Greeks his birth-right was deni'd) Impatient of his wrongs, with him braue Brute arose, And of the Troian youth courageous Captaines chose, Raysd Earth-quakes with their Drummes, the ruffling Ensignes reare; And, gathering young and old that rightlie Troian were, Vp to the Mountaines march, through straits and forrests strong: Where, taking-in the Townes, pretended to belong Vnto that * 1.17 Grecian Lord, some forces there they put: Within whose safer walls their wiues and children shut, Into the fields they drew, for libertie to stand.

Which when Pandrasus heard, he sent his strict command To levie all the power he presentlie could make: So, to their strengths of warre the Troians them betake.

But whilst the Grecian Guides (not knowing how or where The Teucrians were entrencht, or what their forces were) In foule disordred troupes yet straggled, as secure, This loosness to their spoyle the Troians did allure, Who fiercely them assail'd: where stanchlesse furie rap't The Grecians in so fast, that scarcely one escap't: Yea, proud Pandrasus flight, himselfe could hardlie free. Who, when he saw his force thus frustrated to bee, And by his present losse, his passed error found (As by a later warre to cure a former wound)

Doth reinforce his power to make a second fight. When they whose better wits had ouer-matcht his might, Loth what they got to lose, as politiquelie cast His Armics to intrap, in getting to them fast Antigonus as friend, and Anaclet his pheere (Surpriz'd in the last fight) by gifts who hired were Into the Grecian Campeth'insuing night to goe And faine they were stolne forth, to their Allies to show How they might haue the spoile of all the Troian pride; And gaining them beleefe, the credulous Grecians guide Into th'ambushment neere, that secretlie was laid: So to the Troians hands the Grecians were betraid; Pandrasus selfe surpriz'd; his Crown who to redeeme (Which scarcely worth their wrong the Troian race esteeme) Their slauerie long sustain'd did willinglie release: And (for a lasting league of amitie and peace) Bright Innogen, his child, for wife to Brutus gaue, And furnisht them a fleete, with all things they could craue To set them out to Sea. Who lanching, at the last They on Lergecia light, an Ile; and, ere they past, Vnto a Temple built to great Diana there, The noble Brutus went; wise * 1.18 Triuia to enquire, To shew them where the stock of ancient Troy to place.

The Goddesse, that both knew and lov'd the Troian race, Reueal'd to him in dreames, that furthest to the West, S. He should discrie the Ile of Albion, highlie blest; With Giants latelie stor'd; their numbers now decaid: By vanquishing the rest, his hopes should there be staid: Where, from the stock of Troy, those puissant Kings should rise, Whose conquests from the West, the world should scant suffice. Thus answer'd; great with hope, to sea they put againe, And safelie vnder saile, the howres doe entertaine With sights of sundrie shores, which they from farre discrie: And viewing with delight th' Azarian Mountaines hie, One walking on the deck, vnto his friend would say (As I haue heard some tell) So goodly Ida lay.

Thus talking mongst themselues, they sun-burnt Africk keepe Vpon the lee-ward still, and (sulking vp the deepe) For Mauritania make: where putting-in, they find A remnant (yet reseru'd) of th'ancient Dardan kind, By braue Antenor brought from out the Greekish spoiles (O long-renowned Troy! Of thee, and of thy toyles, What Country had not heard?) which, to their Generall, then Great Corineus had, the strong'st of mortall men: To whom (with ioyfull harts) Dianas will they show.

Who easlie beeing wonne along with them to goe,

They altogether put into the watry Plaine: Oft-times with Pyrats, oft with Monsters of the Maine Distressed in their way; whom hope forbids to feare. Those pillars first they passe which Ioues great sonne did reare. And cuffing those sterne waues which like huge Mountaines roule (Full ioy in euery part possessing euery soule) In Aquitane at last the Ilion race arriue. Whom strongly to repulse when as those recreants striue, They (anchoring there at first but to refresh their fleet, Yet saw those sauage men so rudely them to greet) Vnshipt their warlike youth, aduauncing to the shore. The Dwellers, which perceiu'd such danger at the dore, Their King Groffarius get to raise his powerfull force: Who, mustring vp an host of mingled foote and horse, Vpon the Troians set; when suddainly began A fierce and dangerous fight: vvhere Corineus ran With slaughter through the thick-set squadrons of the foes; And with his armed Axe laid on such deadlie blowes, That heapes of liuelesse trunks each passage stopt vp quite.

Groffarius hauing lost the honour of the fight, Repaires his ruin'd powers; not so to giue them breath: When they, which must be free'd by conquest or by death, And, conquering them before, hop't now to doe no lesse (The like in courage still) stand for the like successe. Then sterne and deadlie Warre put-on his horridst shape; And wounds appear'd so wide, as if the Graue did gape To swallow both at once; which stroue as both should fall, When they with slaughter seem'd to be encircled all: Where Turon (of the rest) Brutes Sisters valiant sonne (By whose approued deeds that day was chiefly wonne) Sixe hundred slue out-right through his peculiar strength: By multitudes of men yet ouer-prest at length. His nobler Vncle there, to his immortall name, S. The Citie Turon built, and well endow'd the same.

For Albion sayling then, th'arriued quicklie heere (O! neuer in this world men halfe so ioyful were With shoutes heard vp to heauen, when they beheld the Land) And in this veric place where Totnesse now doth stand, First set their Gods of Troy, kissing the blessed shore; Then, forraging this Ile, long promisd them before, Amongst the ragged Cleeues those monstrous Giants sought: Who (of their dreadfull kind) tappall the Troians, brought Great Gogmagog, an Oake that by the roots could teare: S. So mightie were (that time) the men who liued there: But, for thevse of Armes he did not vnderstand (Except some rock or tree, that comming next to hand

Hee raz'd out of the earth to execute his rage) Hee challenge makes for strength, and offereth there his gage. Which, Corin taketh vp, to answer by and by, Vpon this sonne of Earth his vtmost power to try.

All, doubtful to which part the victorie would goe, Vpon that loftie place at Plimmouth call'd the Hoe, Those mightie * 1.19 Wrastlers met; with many an irefull looke Who threatned, as the one hold of the other tooke: But, grapled, glowing fire shines in their sparkling eyes. And, whilst at length of arme one from the other lyes, Their lusty sinewes swell like cables, as they striue: Their feet such trampling make, as though they forc'r to driue A thunder out of earth; which stagger'd with the weight: Thus, eithers vtmost force vrg'd to the greatest height. Whilst one vpon his hip the other seekes to lift, And th'adverse (by a turne) doth from his cunning shift, Their short-fetcht troubled breath a hollow noise doth make, Like bellowes of a Forge. Then Corin vp doth take The Giant twixt the grayns; and, voyding of his hould (Before his combrous feet he well recouer could) Pitcht head-long from the hill; as when a man doth throw An Axtree, that with sleight deliuerd from the toe Rootes vp the yeelding earth: so that his violent fall, Strooke Neptune with such strength, as shouldred him withall; That where the monstrous waues like Mountaines late did stand, They leap't out of the place, and left the bared sand To gaze vpon wide heauen: so great a blowe it gaue. For which, the conquering Brute, on Corineus braue This horne of land bestow'd, and markt it with his name; §. Of Corin, Cornwall call'd, to his immortall fame.

Cleere Dert deliuering thus the famous Brutes arriue, Inflam'd with her report, the stragling riuelets striue So highlie her to raise, that Ting (whose banks were blest By her beloued Nymph deere Leman) which addrest And fullie with her selfe determined before To sing the Danish spoyles committed on her shore, When hit her from the East they came in mightie swarmes, Nor could their natiue earth containe their numerous Armes, Their surcrease grew so great, as forced them at last To seeke another soyle (as Bees doe when they cast) And by their impious pride how hard she was bested, When all the Country swam with blood of Saxons shed: This Riuer (as I said) which had determin'd long The Deluge of the Danes exactlie to haue song, It vtterlie neglects; and studying how to doe The Dert those high respects belonging her vnto,

Inuiteth goodlie Ex, who from her ful-fed spring Her little Barlee hath, and Dunsbrook her to bring From Exmore: when she yet hath scarcely found her course, Then Creddy commeth in, and Forto, which inforce Her faster to her fall; as Ken her closelie clips, And on her Easterne side sweet Leman gentlie slips Into her widened banks, her Soueraigne to assist; As Columb winnes for Ex, cleere Weuer and the Clist, Contributing their streames their Mistress fame to raise. As all assist the Ex, so Ex consumeth these; Like some vnthriftie youth, depending on the Court, To winne an idle name, that keepts a needless port; And raising his old rent, exacts his Farmers store The Land-lord to enrich, the Tenants wondrous poore: Who hauing sent him theirs, he then consumes his owne, That with most vaine expense vpon the Prince is throwne: So these, the lesser Brooks vnto the greater pay; The greater, they againe spend all vpon the Sea: As, Otrey (that her name doth of the Otters take, Abounding in her banks) and Ax, their vtmost make To ayde stout Dert, that dar'd Brutes storie to reviue. For, when the Saxon first the Britans forth did driue, Some vp into the hills themselues o're Seuerne shut: Vpon this point of land, for refuge others put, To that braue race of Brute still fortunate. For where Great Brute first disembarqu't his wandring Troians, there §. His ofspring (after long expulst the Inner land, When they the Saxon power no longer could withstand) Found refuge in their flight; where Ax and Otrey first Gaue these poore soules to drinke, opprest with grieuous thirst. Heere I'le vnyoke awhile, and turne my steeds to meat: The land growes large and wide: my Teame begins to sweat.

¶ Illustrations.

IF in Prose and Religion it were as iustifiable, as in Poetry and Fiction, to in∣uoke a Locall power (for anciently both Iewes, Gentiles, & Christians haue sup∣posed to euery Countrey a singular a 1.20 Genius) I would therin ioyne with the Au∣thor. Howsoeuer, in this and all * 1.21 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉: and so I begin to you.

As Amphitrite clips this Island fortunate.

When Pope Clement VI. graunted the fortunate I sles to Lewes Earle of Clere∣mont, by that generall name (meaning onely the seauen Canaries, and purposing their Christian conuersion) the English Ambassadors at Rome seriously doub∣ted, b 1.22 least their owne Countrey had beene comprised in the Donation. They were Henry of Lancaster Earle of Derby, Hugh Spenser, Ralph L. Stafford, the Bi∣shop

of Oxford, and others, agents there with the Pope, that hee, as a priuate friend, not as a Iudge or party interessed, should determine of Edward the thirds right to France: where you haue this Embassage in Walsinghā, a 1.23 correct Regnum Angliae, and reade Franciae. Britains excellence in earth and ayre (whence the Macares, b 1.24 and particularly Crete among the Greekes, had their title) together with the Popes exactions, in taxing, collating, and prouising of Benefices (an intollerable wrong to Lay-mens inheritances, and the Crowne-reuenewes) gaue cause of this iealous coniecture; seconded in the conceit of them which deriue Albion from * 1.25 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉; whereto the Author in his title and this versealludes. But of Albion more, presently.

Amongst whose iron rockes grim Saturne yet remaines.

Fabulous Iupiters ill dealing with his Father Saturne, is well known; and that after deposing him, and his priuities cut off, hee perpetually imprisoned him. Homer c 1.26 ioynes Iapet with him, liuing in eternal night about the vtmost ends of the earth: which well fits the more Northerne climate of these Islands. Ofthem (dispersed in the Deucalidonian Sea) in one most temperate, of gentle ayre, and fragrant with sweetest odours, lying towards the Northwest, it is reported, d 1.27 that Saturne lies bound in iron chaines, kept by Briareus, attended by spirits, conti∣nually dreaming of Iupiters proiects, whereby his ministers prognosticate the secrets of Fate. Euery thirtie yeares, diuers of the adiacent Islanders with solem∣nitie for successe of the vndertaken voyage, and competent prouision, enter the vast Seas, and at last, in this Saturnian Isle (by this name the Sea is called also) * 1.28 enioy the happy quiet of the place; some in studies of nature, and the Mathe¦matiques, which continue; others in sensuality, which after XXX. years returne perhaps to their first home. This fabulous relation might be, and in part is, by Chymiques as well interpreted for mysteries of their art, as the common tale of Daedalus Labyrinth, Iason and his Argonautiques, and almost the whole Chaos of Mythique inuentions. But neyther Geography (for I ghesse not where or what this Isle should be, vnlesse that des e 1.29 Macraont which Pantagruell discoue∣red) nor the matter-self permits it lesse Poeticall (although a learned Greeke Father f 1.30 out of some credulous Historian seemes to remember it) then the Ely∣sian fields, which, with this, are alwayes laide by Homer about the * 1.31 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉; a place whereof too large liberty was giuen to faine, because of the dif∣ficult possibility in finding the truth. Onely thus note seriously, that this reuo∣lution of XXX. yeares (which with some latitude is Saturnes naturall motion) is especially g 1.32 noted for the longest period, or age also among our `Druids; and that in a particular forme, to bee accounted yearely from the sixt Moone, as their New-yeares-day: which circuit of time, diuers of the Ancients reckon for their generations in Chronologie; as store h 1.33 of Authors shew you.

They instantly againe doe other bodies take.

You cannot be without vnderstanding of this Pythagorean opinion of trans∣animation (I haue like liberty to naturalize that word, as Lipsius had to make it a Romane, by turning * 1.34 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 if euer you read any that speakes of Py∣thagoras (whom, for this particular, Epiphanius reckons among his heretiques) or discourse largely of Philosophicall doctrine of the soule. But especially, if you affect it temperedwith inuiting pleasure, take Lucians Cock, and his Ne∣gromancys if in serious discourse, Plato's Phaedon, and Phaedrus with his followers. Lipsius doubts i 1.35 whether Pythagoras receiued it from the Druids, or they from him, because in his trauels he conuerst as well with Gaulish as Indian Philoso∣phers.

Out of Caesar and Lucan informe your selfe with full testimony of this their opinion, too ordinary among the heathen and Iewes also, which thought our a 1.36 Sauiour to be Ieremte or Elias vpon this error, irreligious indeed, yet such a one, as so strongly erected mouing spirits, that they did neuer — * 1.37 rediturae parcere vitae, but most willingly deuote their whole selues to the publique seruice: and this was in substance the politique enuoyes wherewith Plato and Cicere conclu∣ded their Common-welths, as Macrobius hath obserued. The Author, with pitie, imputes to them their being led away in blindnes of the time, and errors of their fancies; as all other the most diuine Philosophers (not lightned by the true word) haue beene, although (meere humane sufficiencies only considered) some of them were sublimat farre aboue earthly conceit: as especially Hermes, Orpheus, Pythagoras, (first learning the soules immortality of b 1.38 Pherecydes a Syri∣an) Seneca, Plato, and Plutarch; which last two, in a Greeke hymne of an Eastern c 1.39 Bishop, are commended to Christ for such as came neerest to holines of any vntaught Gentiles. Of the Druids more large in fitter place.

Gaue answere from their caues, and tooke what shapes they please.

In the Seame (an Isle by the coast of the French Bretaigne) nine Virgins conse∣crate to perpetual chastitie, were Priests of a famous oracle, remembred by Me∣la. His printed bookes haue Gallicenas vocant; where that great critique Turneb reades * 1.40 Galli Zenas, or Lenas vocant. But White of Basing stoke will haue it * 1.41 Cenas, as interpreting their profession and religion, which was in an arbitra∣rie metamorphosing themselues, charming the windes (as of later time the Witches of Lappland and Finland) skill in predictions, more then naturall me∣dicine, and such like; their kindnes being in all chiefly to d 1.42 Saylers. But fin∣ding that in the Syllies were also of both Sexes such kinde of professors, that there were e 1.43 Samnitae, strangely superstitious in their Baccbanals, in an Ile of this coast (as is deliuered by Strabo) and that the Gaulcs, Britaines, Indians (twixt both whom and Pythagoras is found no small concent of doctrine) had their Philosophers (vnder which name both Priests and Prophets of those times were included) called f 1.44 Samanaei, and Semni, and (perhaps by corruption of some of these) Samothei, which, to make it Greeke, might be turned into 〈◊〉〈◊〉: I doubted whether some relique of these words remained in that of Mela, if you reade Cenas or Senas, as contracted from Samanaei; which by deduction from a roote of some Easterne tongue, might signifie as much, as, what we call Astrologers. But of this too much.

Whose townes vnto the Saints that liued here of yore.

Not onely to their owne countrey Saints (whose names are there very fre∣quent) but also to the Irish; a people anciently (according to the name of the g 1.45 Holy Iland giuen to Ireland) much deuoted to, and by the English much respected for their holines and learning. I omit their fabulous Caesara neece to Noah, h 1.46 their Bartholan, their Ruan, who, as they affirme, first planted Religion, before Christ, amongthem: nor desire I your beleefe of this Ru∣ans age, which by their account (supposing him liuing CCC. yeares after the floud, and christned by Saint Patrique) exceeded 〈◊〉〈◊〉. DCC. yeares, and so was elder then that impostor, i 1.47 whose fained continuance of life and rest∣les trauailes, euer since the Passion, lately offered to deceiue the credulous. Onely thus I note our of Venerable Bede, that in the Saxon times, it was vsuall

for the English and Gaulish to make Ireland, as it were, both their Vniuersity and Monastery, for studies of learning and diuine contemplation, as the life of i 1.48 Gil∣das also, and other frequent testimonies discouer.

From which he first was call'd the Hoare-rocke in the wood.

That the Ocean (as in many other places of other countries) hath eaten vp much of what was here once shore, is a common report, approued in the Cor∣nisb name of S. Michaels mount; which is Careg Cowz in Clowz k 1.49 .i. the hoare rocke in the wood.

And our main-Amber here, and Burien trophy—

Main-Amber. i. Ambroses stone (not farre from Pensans) so great, that ma∣ny mens vnited strength cannot remoue it, yet with one finger you may wagge it. The Burien trophy is XIX. stones, circularly disposed, and, in the middle, one much exceeding therest in greatnesse: by coniecture of most learned Camden, erected eyther vnder the Romanes, or else by K. Atbelstan in his conquest of these parts.

Were worthy of his end, but where he had his birth.

Neere Camel about Camblan, was * 1.50 Arthur slain by Mordred, and on the same shore, East from the riuers mouth, borne in Tintagel castle, Gorlois Prince of Cornewailat Vther-Pendragons coronation, solemnized in London, vpon diuers too kinde passages and lasciuious regards twixt the King and his wife Igerne, grew very iealous, in a rage left the Court, committed his wiues chastitie to this Castlessafegard; and to preuent the wasting of his countrey (which vpon this discontent was threatned) betooke himselfe in other forts to martiall pre∣paration. Vther (his bloud still boiling in lust) vpon aduice of Vlfin Rhieara∣doch, one of his Knights by Ambrose Merlins magique personated like Gorlois, and Vlfin like one Iordan, seruant to Gorlois, made such successefull vse of their imposture, that (the Prince in the meane time slaine) Arthur was the same night begotten, and verified that l 1.51 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 ;although Merlin by the rule of Hermes, or Astrologicall direction, iustified, that hee was conceiued 111. houres after Gorlois death; by this shift answering the dangerous imputati∣on of bastardy to the heire of a crowne. For Vther taking Igern to wife, left Arthur his successor in the Kingdome. Here haue you a Iupiter, an Alcmena, an Amphitryo, a Sosias, and a Mercury; nor wants there scarce anything, but that truth-passing reports of Poeticall Bards haue made the birth an Hercules.

Knowne by one generall name vpon this point that dwell.

The name Dumnonij, Damnonij, or `Danmonij, in Solintts and Ptolemy, com∣prehended the people of Deuonshire and Cornewall: whence the Lizard-pro∣montory is called Damnium in Marcian Heracleotes; and William of Malmes∣bury, * 1.52 Florence of Worcester, Roger of Houeden, and others, stile Deuonshire by name of Domnonia, perhaps all from Duff neint. i. low valleyes in British; wherein are most habitations of the countrey, as iudicious Camden teaches me.

Or that this foreland lies furth'st out into his sight, Which spreads his vigorous flames—

Fuller report of the excellence in wrastling and nimblenesse of body,

wherewith this Westerne people haue beene, and are famous, you may finde in Carew's 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of his countrey. But to giue reason of the climats na∣ture, for this prerogatiue in them, I thinke as difficult, as to shew why about the Magellanique straights they are so white, about the Cape de bison speranza so blacke, a 1.53 yet both vnder the same Tropique; why the Abyssins are but tawny Moores, wheh asin the East Indian Isles Zetlan and Malabar, they are very blacke, both in the same parallel; or why we that Iiue in this Northerne lati∣tude, compared with the Southerne, should not be like affected from like cause. I referre it no more to the Sunne, then the speciall Horsmanship in our Northerne meh, the nimble ability of the Irish, the fiery motions of the French, Italian iealousle, German liberty, Spanish puft vp vanity, or those different and perpetuall carriages of state gouernement, Haste and Delay, b 1.54 which asinbred qualities, were remarqueable in the two most martiall people of Greece. The cause of AEthtopian blackenesse and curled haire was long since iudiciously c 1.55 fetcht from the disposition of soile, ayre, water, and singular operations of the heauens; with cōfutation of those which attribure it to the Suns distance: And I am resolued that euery land hath its so singular selfe-nature, and indiuiduall ha∣bitude with celestiall influence, that humane knowledge, consisting most of all in vniuersality, is not yet furnisht with what is requisite to so particular discoue∣rie: but for the learning of this point in a special Treatise Hippocrates, Ptolemy, Bodin, others haue copious disputes.

Which now the enuious world doth slander for a dreame.

I should the sooner haue beene of the Authors opinion (in more then Poe∣ticall forme, standing for Brute) if in any Greeke or Latino Storie authentique, speaking of AEneas and his planting in Latium, were mention made of any such likething. To reckon the learned men which denie him, or at least permithim not in coniecture, were too long a Catalogue: and indeede, this critique age scarce any longer endures any nation, their first supposed Authors name, not I∣talus to the Italian, not Hifpalus to the Spaniard, Bato to the Hollander, Brabo to the Brabantine, Francio to the French, Celtes to the Celt, Galathes to the Gaule, Scota to the Scot; no, nor scarce Romulus to his Rome, because of their vnlikely and fictitious mixtures: especially this of Brute, supposed long before the be∣ginning of the Olympiads (whence all time backeward is iustly call'd by d 1.56 Varro, vnknowne or fabulous) some 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. D. CC. and more yeares since, about Sa∣muels time, is most of all doubted. But (reseruing my censure) I thus main∣taine the Author: although nor Greeke nor Latine, nor our countrey stories of Bede and Malmesbury especially, nor that fragment yet remayning of Gildas, speak of him; & that his name were not published vntil Geffrey of Monmouths e∣dition of the British story, which grew and continues much suspected, in much reiected; yet obserue that Taliessin a e 1.57 great Bard, more then 〈◊〉〈◊〉. years since af∣firmes it, Nennius (in some copies hee is vnder name of Gildas) aboue DCCC. yeares past, and the Glosse of Samuel Beaulan, or some other, crept into his text, mention both the common report, and descent from AEneas; and withall, (which I take to be Nennius his owne) make him sonne to one Isicio or Hesi∣chio (perhaps meaning Aschenaz, of whom more to the fourth Song) conti∣nuing a pedegree to Adam, ioyning these words: f 1.58 This Genealogie I found by tradition of the Ancients, which vvere first inhabitants of Britaine. In a Manuscript Epistle of Henry of Huntingdon g 1.59 to one Warin, I read the Latine

of this English; You aske me, Sir, Why omitting the succeeding raigues from Brute to Iulius Caesar, I begin my story at Caesar? I answer you, that neyther by word nor writing, could I finde any certainty of those times; although with diligent search I oft inquiredit, yet this yeare in my iourney towards Rome, in the Abbey of Beccensam, e∣uen with amazement, I found the storie of Brute: and in his owne printed booke he affirmes, that what Bede had in this part omitted, was supplied to him by o∣ther authors; of which Girald seemes to haue had vse. The British story of Monmouth was a translation (but with much liberty, and no exact faithfulnesse) of a Welsh booke, deliuered to Geffrey by one Walter, Archdeacon of Oxford, and hath beenefollowed (the Translator being a man of some credite, and Bi∣shop of S. Asaphs, vnder K. Stephen) by Ponticus Virunnius an Italian; most of our Countrey Historians of middletimes, and this age; speaking so certainly of him, that they blaz on his coat a 1.60 to you, two Lions combatant, and crowned Or in a field gules; others, Or, a Lion passant gules; and lastly, by Doctor White of Ba∣sing stoke, lately liuing at 〈◊〉〈◊〉, a Count palatint; according to the title besto∣wed by the b 1.61 Imperials vpon their professors. Arguments are there also drawne from some affinity of the Greel c 1.62 tongue, & much of Troian and Greeke names, with the British. These things are the more enforst by Cambro-Britons, through that vniuersall desire, bewitching our Europe, to deriue their bloud from Troians, which for them might as well be d 1.63 by supposition of their ancestors mar∣riages with the hither deduced Romane Colonies, who by originall were certain∣ly Troian if 〈◊〉〈◊〉 antiquities deceiue not. You may adde this weake coniecture; that in those large excursions of the Gaules, Cimmerians, & Celts (among them I doubt not but were many Britons, hauing with them community of nation, manners, climat, customs; and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 himselfe is affirmed a Briton) which vn∣der indistinct names when this Westerne world was vndiscouered, ouer-ran I∣taly, Greece, and part of Asia, it is e 1.64 reported that they came to Troy for safegard; presuming perhaps vpon like kindnesse, as wee reade of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Troians and Romanes, in their warres with f 1.65 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (which was louing respect through contingence of bloud) vpon like cause remembred to them by tradition. Brief∣ly, seeing no Nationall storie, except such as Thucydides, Xenophon, Polybius, Caesar, Tacitus, Procopius, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the late Guicciardin, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Macchia∣uel, and their like, which were employed in the state of their times; can iustifie themselues but by tradition; and that many of the Fathers and Ecclesiasticall g 1.66 Historians, especially the Iewish Rabbins (taking their highest learning of Ca∣bala, but from antique and successiue report) haue inserted vpon tradition many relations currant enough, where holy Writ crosses them not: you shall enough please Saturne and Mercury, presidents of antiquity and learning, if with the Author you foster this belief. Where are the authorities (at least of the names) of Iannes & Iambres, h 1.67 the writings of Enoch, and other such like, which we know by diuine tradition were? The same questiō might be of that infinit losse of Au∣thors, whose names are so frequent in Stephen, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Plutarch, Clemens, Polybius, Liuie, others. And how dangerous it were to examine antiquities by a forreine writer (especially in those times) you may see by the Stories of the He∣brewes, deliuered in Iustin, Strabo, Tacitus, and such other discording and con∣trary (beside their infinit omissions) to Moses infallible context. Nay he with his successor 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is copious in the Israelites entring, conquering, and expel∣ling the Gergesites, Iebusites, and the rest out of the holy land; yet no witnes * 1.68 haue they of their transmigration, and peopling of Afrique, which by testimo∣ny of two pillers, i 1.69 erected and engrauen at Tingis hath beene affirmed. But you blame methus expatiating. Let me adde for the Author, that our most iudici∣ous anriquary of the last age Iohn Leland, k 1.70 with reason and authority hath also for Brute argued strongly.

Next, Syluius him succeedes—

So goes the ordinary descent; but some make Syluius sonne to AEneas, to whom the Prophesie was giuen: — k 1.71 Serum Lauinia coniunx,
Educet Syluis regem regúm{que} parentem.

As you haue it in Virgill.
His parents onely death—

From these infortunate accidents, one l 1.72 will haue his name Brotus, as from the Greeke 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. mortall; but rather (if it had pleased him) from 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, 〈◊〉〈◊〉. bloudy.

He should discrie the Isle of Albion, highly blest;

His request to Diana in an Hexastich, and her answere in an Ogdoastich, hex∣ameters and pentameters, discouered to him in a dreame, with his sacrifice and rituall ceremonies are in the British story: the verses are pure Latine, which cleerely (as is written of m 1.73 Apollo) was not in those times spoken by Diana, nor vnderstood by Brute: therefore in charity, belceue it a Translation; by Gildas a British Poet, as Virunnius tels you. The Author takes a iustifiable liberty, ma∣king her call it Albion, which was the olde name of this Isle, and remembred in Pliny, Marcian; the booke 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, falsly attributed to Aristotle, Stephen, A∣puleius, others; and our Monke of Bury n 1.74 cals Henry the fift
—Protectour of Brutes Albion,
often vsing that name for the Iland. From Albina, daughter to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 o 1.75 King of Syria some fetch the name: others from a Lady of that name, one of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉; affirming their p 1.76 arriuall here, copulation with spirits, and bringing forth Giants; and all this aboue C C. yeares before Brute. But neyther was there any such King in Syria, nor had Danaus (that can be found) any such daughter, nor trauelled they for aduentures, but by their father were newly q 1.77 married, after slaughter of their husbands: briefly, nothing can bee written more impudently fabulous. Others from K. Albion, Neptunes sonne, from the Greeke * 1.78 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 others, or from (I know not what) Olibius a Celtish King, re∣membred by the false Manethon. Follow them rather, which will it * 1.79 ab albis rupibus, whereby it is specially 〈◊〉〈◊〉. So was an Isle in the Indian Sea called Leuca. 1. white, and r 1.80 another in Pontus, supposed also fortunate, and a re∣ceptacle of the soules of those great Heroes, Peleus and Achilles. Thus was a place by Tyber called s 1.81 Albiona, & the very name of Albion was vpon the Alpes, which from like cause had their denomination; Alpum in the Sabin tongue (from the Greeke 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, ) signifying white. Some much dislike this deriuation, t 1.82 because it comes from a tongue (suppose it eyther Greeke or Latine) not anci∣ently communicated to this Isle. For my part, I thinke cleerely (against the common opinion) that the name of Britain was knowne to strangers before Albion. I could vouch the u 1.83 finding of one of the masts of Hiero's Ship, * 1.84 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, if iudicious correction admonished me not rather to reade 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. the now lower Calabria in Italie, a place aboue all other, I remember, for store of Ship-tymber; cōmended x 1.85 by Alcibiaedes to the Lacedaemonians. But with better surety can I produce the expresse name of * 1.86 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, out of a writer that y 1.87 liued and trauelled in warfare with Scipio; before whose time Scylax (ma∣king a Catalogue of XX. other Isles) and Herodot us (to whom these Westerne

parts were by his confession vnknowne) neuer so much as speake of vs by any name. Afterward was Albion imposed vpon the cause before toucht, expressing the olde British name * 1.88 Inis-guin: which argument moues me before all other, for that I see it vsuall in antiquity to haue names among strangers, in their tongue iust significant with the same in the language of the country, to which they are applyed; as the redde Sea is (in Strabo, Curtius, Stephen, others) named from a King of that coast called Erythraus (for, to speake of redde sand, as some, or redde hils, as an olde a 1.89 writer, were but refuges of shamefull ignorance) which was surely the same with Esau, called in holy Writ AEdom, b 1.90 both signifying (the one in Greek, the other in Hebrew) redde So the riuer Nile, c 1.91 in Hebrew & AEgyp∣tian called 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. 1. blacke, is obserued by that mighty Prince of learnings state, Ioseph Scaliger, to signifie the same colour in the word 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, vsed for it by d 1.92 Homer; which is inforst also by the black e 1.93 Statues among the Greeks, erected in honour of Nile, named also expresly f 1.94 Melas: so in proper names of men; Simon Zelotes g 1.95, in Luke, is but Simon the Chananit, and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 in Orpheus the same with Moses; Ianus with Oenotrus: and in our times those Authors, Me∣lanchthon, Magirus, Theocrenus, Pelargus in their owne language, but Swert∣earth, Cooke, Fountain de dieu, Storke. Diuers such other plaine examples might illustrate the conceit; but, these sufficient. Take largest etymologicall liberty, and you may haue it from h 1.96 Ellan-ban. i. the white Isle, in Scottish, as they call their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and to fit all together, the name of Britaine from Brith-inis. i. the coloured Isle in Welsh; twixt which and the Greeke i 1.97 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, or 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 (vsed for a kinde of drinke neerely like our Beere) I would with the French Forcatulus thinke affinity (as Italy was called Oenotria, from the name of wine) were it not for that 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 may be had frō an ordinary primitiue, or else from 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. i. sweet (as Solinus teaches, making Britomart signifie as much as sweet Virgin) in the Cre∣tique tongue. But this is to play with syllables, and abuse precious time.

The Citie Turon built—

Vnderstand Tours vpon Loire in France, whose name and foundation the in∣habitants k 1.98 referre to Turnus (of the same time with AEneas, but whether the same which Virgil speakes of, they know not:) his funeral monuments they yet shew, boast of, and from him idly deriue the word Torneaments. The British storie sayes Brute built it (so also Nennius) and from one Turon, Brutes nephew there buried, giues it the name. Homer is cited for testimony: in his works ex∣tant it is not found. But, because he had diuers others (which wrongfull time hath filcht from vs) as appeares in Herodotus and Suidas; you may in fauour thinke it to be in some of those lost; yet I cannot in conscience offer to per∣swade you that he euer knew the continent of Gaule (now, in part, France) al∣though a learned l 1.99 German endeauours by force of wit and etymologie, to car∣rie Vlysses (which he makes of Elizza in Genesis) into Spaine, and others before m 1.100 him (but falsely) into the Northerne parts of Scotland. But for Homers know∣ledge, see the last note to the sixt Song.

So mighty were that time the men that liued there:

If you trust our stories, you must beleeue, the land then peopled with Giants, of vast bodily composture. I haue read of the Nephilim, the Rephaijm, Ana∣kim, Og, Goliath, and other in holy writ: of Mars, Tityus, Antaeus, Turnus, and the Titans in Homer, Virgil, Ouid; and of Adams stature (according to Iewish n 1.101 fi∣ction) equalling at first the worlds Diameter; yet seeing that nature (now as fer∣tile as of old) hath in her effects determinate limits of quantitie, that in Ari∣stotles

a 1.102 time (neere 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. yeares since) their beds were but sixe foote ordina∣rily (nor is the difference, twixt ours and Greeke dimension, much) and that neere the same length was our Sauiours Sepulchre, as Adamnan informed b 1.103 K. Alfrid; I could think that there now are some, as great Statures, as for the most part haue beene, and that Giants were but of a somewhat more then vulgar c 1.104 ex∣cellence in bodie, and martiall performance. If you obiect the finding of great bones, which, measured by proportion, largely exceed our times; I first answer, that in some singulars, as Monsters rather then naturall, such proofe hath bin; but withall that both now and of ancient d 1.105 time, the eyes iudgement in such like hath beene, and is, subiect to much imposture; mistaking bones of huge beasts for humane. e 1.106 Claudius brought ouer his Elephants hither, and perhaps Iulius Caesar some, (for I haue read f 1.107 that he terribly frighted the Britons, with sight of one at Coway stakes) and so may you be deceiued. But this is no place to examine it.

Of Corin, Cornwall call'd, to his immortall fame.

So, if you beleeue the tale of Corin, and Gogmagog: but rather imagine the name of Cornewall from this promontory of the lands end; extending it selfe like a g 1.108 horne, which in most tongues is Corn, or very neere. Thus h 1.109 was a pro∣montory in Cyprus, called Cerastes, and in the now Candy or Crete, and Gazaria, (the olde Taurica Chersonesus) another titled * 1.110 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, and Brundusium in Italy had name from Brendon or i 1.111 Brention. i. a Harts-head in the Messapian tongue, for similitude ofhornes. But k 1.112 Malmesbury thus: They are called Corne∣walshmen, because being seated in the Westerne part of Britaine, they ly euer a∣gainst a horne (a promontory) of Gaule. The whole name is, as if you should say Corne-wales; for hither in the Saxon conquest the British called Welsh (sig∣nifying the people, rather then strangers as the vulgar opinion willes) made transmigration: wherof an olde l 1.113 Rimer;
The bewe that wer of hom bilened, as in Cornwaile and Walis,
Brutons ner namore ycluped, ac Waleys pluis.
Such was the language of your fathers betweene CCC. and CCCC. yeares since: and of it more hereafter.

The deluge of the Dane exactly to haue song.

In the IIII. yeare of m 1.114 Brithric, K. of the West Saxons at Portland, and at this place (which makes the fiction proper) three ships of Danish Pirats entred: the Kings Lieutenant offering inquisition of their name, state and cause of arriuall, was the first English man, in this first Danish inuasion, slaine by their hand. Mi∣serable losses and continuall, had the English by their frequent irruptions from this time till the Norman conquest; twixt which intercedes CC. LXX. IX. yeares: and that lesse account of n 1.115 CC. XXX. during which space this land endured their bloudy slaughters, according to some mens calculation, begins at K. Ethclulph; to whose time Henry of Huntigdon, & Roger of Houeden, referre the beginning of the Danish mischiefs, continuing so intollerable, that vnder K. Ethelred was there begun a tribute insupportable (yearly afterward exacted frō the subiects) to giue their King Swain, & so preuent their insatiat rapin. It was between XXX. & XL. thousand o 1.116 pounds (for I finde no certainty of it so variable are the reports) not instituted for pay of Garrisons, imployed in seruice against them (as vpon the misvnderstanding of the Confessors lawes some ill affirme) but to satisfie the wasting enemie; but so that it ceased not, although their spoyles ceased, but was collected to the vse of the crowne; vntill K. Stephen promised to remit it.

For indeede S. Edward vpon imagination of seeing a diuell dancing about the whole summe of it lying in his treasury, moued in conscience, caused it to be repaied, and released the duty, as Ingulph Abbot of Crowland tels you: yet obserue him, and reade Florence of Worcester, Marian the Scot, Henry of Hun∣tigdon, and Roger Houeden, and you will confesse that what I report thus from them is truth, and different much from what vulgarly is receiued. Of the Da∣nish race were afterward III. Kings, Cnut, Hardcnut, and Harold the I.

His of-spring after long expulst the inner land.

After some 〈◊〉〈◊〉. D. yeares from the supposed arriuall of the Troians, their po∣steritie * 1.117 were by incroachment of Saxons, Iutes, Angles, Danes (for among the Saxons that noble a 1.118 Douz wils that surely Danes were) Frisians b 1.119 and Franks driuen into those westerne parts of the now Wales and Cornwales. Our stories haue this at large, and the Saxon Heptarchy; which at last by publique edict of K. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was called Enzle-lond. But Iohn Bishop of c 1.120 Chartres saith it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that name from * 1.121 the first comming of the Angles; others from the name of Hengist d 1.122 (a matter probable enough) whose name, warres, policies, and go∣uernement, being first inuested by Vortigern in Kent, are aboue all the other Germans most notable in the British stories: and Harding —He called it Engestes land, which afterward was shorted, and called England. Hereto accords that of one of our e 1.123 countrey old Poets: —* 1.124 Engisti linguâ canit insula Brutt. If I should adde the idle conceits of Godfrey of Viterbo, drawing the name from I know not what Angri, the insertion of L. for R. by Pope Gregory, or the coniectures of vnlimitable phantasie, I should vnwillingly, yet with them im∣pudently, erre.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The second Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

The Muse from Marshwood way commands, Along the sbore through Chesills sands: Where, ouertoyld, her heate to coole, Shee bathes her in the pleasant Poole: Thence, ouer-land againe doth scowre, To fetch in Froome, and bring downe Stowre; Falls with New-forrest, as she sings The wanton Wood-Nymphes reuellings. Whilst Itchin in her loftie layes, Chaunts Beuis of South-hamptons praise, Shee Southward with her actiue flight Is wafted to the Ile of Wight, To see the rutte the Sea-gods keepe: There swaggering in the Solent deepe. Thence Hampshire-ward her way shee bends; And visiting her Forrest friends, Neere Salsbury her rest doth take: Which shee her second pause doth make.

MArch strongly forth my Muse, whilst yet the temperataire Inuites vs, easely on to hasten our repair. Thou powerfull God of flames (in verse diuinely great) Touch my invention so with thy true genuine heate, That high and noble things I slightly may not tell, Nor light and idle toyes my lines may vainly swell; But as my subiect serues, so hie or lowe to straine, And to the varying earth so sute my varying vainc, That Nature in my worke thou maist thy power avow: That as thou first found'st Art, and didst her rules allow; So I, to thine owne selfe that gladlie neere would bee, May herein doe the best, in imitating thee: As thou hast heere a hill, a vale there, there a flood, A mead here, there a heath, and now and then a wood,

These things so in my Song I naturally may showe; Now, as the Mountaine hie; then, as the Valley lowe: Heere, fruitfull as the Mead, there as the Heath be bare; Then, as the gloomie wood, I may be rough; though rare.

Through the Dorsetian fields that lie in open view, My progresie I againe must seriouslie pursue, From Marshwoods fruitfull Vale my iourney on to make: (As Phoebus getting vp out of the Easterne lake, Refresht with ease and sleepe, is to his labour prest; Euen so the labouring Muse, heere baited with this rest.) Whereas the little Lim along doth easelie creepe, And Car, that comming downe vnto the troubled Deepe, Brings on the neighbouring Bert, whose batning mellowed banke, From all the British soyles, for Hempe most hugely ranke Doth beare away the best; to Bert-port which hath gain'd That praise from euery place, and worthilie obtain'd Our cordage from herstore, and cables should be made, * 1.125 Of any in that kind most fit for Marine trade: Not seuer'd from the shore, aloft where Chesill lifts Her ridged snake-like sands, in wrecks and smouldring drifts, Which by the South-wind raysd, are heav'd on little hills: Whose valleys with his flowes when foming Neptune fills, Vpon a thousand Swannes the naked Sea-Nymphes ride * 1.126 Within the ouzie Pooles, replenisht euery Tide: Which running on, the Ile of Portland pointeth out; Vpon whose moisted skirt with sea-weed fring'd about, The bastard Corall breeds, that drawne out of the brack, A brittle stalke becomes, from greenish turn'd to black: §. Which th'Ancients, for the loue that they to Isis bare (Their Goddesse most ador'd) haue sacred for her haire. Of which the Naides, and the blew a 1.127 Nereides make Them b 1.128 Taudries for their necks: when sporting in the Lake, They to their secrete Bowres the Sea-gods entertaine. VVhere Portland from her top doth ouer-peere the Maine; Her rugged front empal'd (on euery part) with rocks, Though indigent of wood, yetsraught with woolly flocks: Most famous for her folke, excelling with the sling, Of any other heere this Land inhabiting; That there-with they in warre offensiuelie might wound, If yet the vse of shot Invention had not found. Where, from the neighbouring hills her passage Wey doth path: VVhose hauen, not our least that watch the mid-day, hath The glories that belong vnto a complete Port; Though Wey the least of all the Naides that resort To the Dorsetian sands, from off the higher shore.

Then Frome (a nobler flood) the Muses doth implore

Her mother Blackmores state they sadly would bewaile; Whose bigge and lordlie Oakes once bore as braue a saile As they themselues that thought the largest shades to spred: But mans deuouring hand, with all the earth not fed, Hath hew'd her Timber downe. VVhich wounded, when it fell, By the great noise it made, the workmen seem'd to tell The losse that to the Land would shortlie come thereby, VVhere no man euer plants to our posteritie: That when sharp Winter shoots her sleet and hardned haile, Or suddaine gusts from Sea, the harmlesse Deere assaile, The shrubs are not of power to sheeld them from the wind.

Deere Mother, quoth the Froome, too late (alas) we find The softness of thy sward continued through thy soile, To be the onely cause of vnrecouer'd spoile: VVhen scarce the British ground a finer grasse doth beare; And wish I could, quoth shee, (if wishes helpfull were) §. Thou neuer by that name of White-hart hadst been known, But stiled Blackmore still, which rightly was thine owne. For why, that change foretold the ruine of thy state: Lo, thus the world may see what tis to innovate.

By this, her owne nam'd * 1.129 Towne the wandring Froome had past: And quitting in her course old Dorcester at last, Approaching neere the Poole, at Warham on her way, As easelie shee doth fall into the peacefull Bay, Vpon her nobler side, and to the South-ward neere, Faire Purbeck shee beholds, which no where hath her peere: So pleasantlie in-Il'd on mightie Neptunes marge, A Forest-Nymph, and one of chaste Dianas charge, Imploy'd in Woods and Launds her Deere to feed and kill: §. On whom the watrie God would oft haue had his will, And often her hath woo'd, which neuer would be wonne; But, Purbeck (as profest a Huntresse and a Nunne) The wide and wealthy Sea, nor all his power respects: Her Marble-minded breast, impregnable, reiects The a 1.130 vglie Orks, that for their Lord the Ocean wooe.

Whilst Froome was troubled thus where nought shee hath to doe, The Piddle, that this while bestird her nimble feet, In falling to the Poole her sister Froome to meet, And hauing in her traine two little slender rills (Besides her proper Spring) where-with her banks shee fills, To whom since first the world this later name her lent, Who ancientlie was knowne to be instiled b 1.131 Trent, Her small assistant Brookes her second name haue gain'd. Whilst Piddle and the Froome each other entertain'd, Oft praysing louely Poole, their best-beloued Bay, Thus Piddle her bespake, to passe the time away;

VVhen Poole (quoth shee) was young, a lustie Sea-borne Lass, Great Albyon to this Nymph an earnest suter was; And bare himselfe so well, and so in fauour came, That he in little time, vpon this louelie Dame § Begot three mayden Iles, his darlings and delight: The eldest, Brunksey call'd; the second, Fursey hight; The youngest and the last, and lesser then the other, Saint Hellens name doth beare, the dilling of her Mother. And, for the goodlie Poole was one of Thet is traine, * 1.132 Who scorn'd a Nymph of hers, her Virgin-band should staine, Great Albyon (that fore-thought, the angrie Goddesse would Both on the Dam and brats take what reuenge shee could) I'th bosome of the Poole his little children plac't: First, Brunksey; Fursey next; and little Hellen last; Then, with his mightie armes doth clip the Poole about, To keepe the angrie Queene, fierce Amphitrite out. Against whose lordlie might shee musters vp her waues; And strongly thence repulst (with madness) scoulds and raues.

When now, from Poole, the Muse (vp to her pitch to get) Her selfe in such a place from sight doth almost set, As by the actiue power of her commanding wings, She (Falcon-like) from farre doth fetch those plentious Springs. VVhere Stour receiues her strength frō * 1.133 sixe cleere Fountaines fed; Which gathering to one streame from euery seuerall head, Her new-beginning banke her water scarcely weelds; And fairelie entreth first on the Dorsetian feelds: Where Gillingham with gifts that for a God were meet (Enameld paths, rich wreaths, and euery soueraine sweet The earth and ayre can yeeld, with many a pleasure mixt) Receiues her. Whilst there past great kindness them betwixt, The Forrest her bespoke; How happie floods are yee, From our predestin'd plagues that priuiledged bee; Which onelie with the fish which in your banks doe breed, And dailie there increase, mans gurmandize can feed? But had this wretched Age such vses to imploy Your waters, as the woods we latelie did enioy, Your chanels they would leaue as barren by their spoile, As they of all our trees haue lastlie lest our soile. Insatiable Time thus all things doth deuour: What euer saw the sunne, that is not in Times power? Yee fleeting Streames last long, out-liuing manie a day: But, on more stedfast things Time makes the strongest pray.

§ Now tow'rds the Solent sea as Stour her way doth ply, On Shaftsbury (by chance) shee cast her crystall eye, From whose foundation first, such strange reports arise § As brought into her mind the Eagles prophecies;

Of that so dreadfull plague, which all great Britaine swept, From that which highest flew, to that which lowest crept, Before the Saxon thence the Britaine should expell, And all that there-vpon successiuely befell.

How then the bloodie Dane subdu'd the Saxon race; And, next, the Norman tooke possession of the place: Those ages, once expir'd, the Fates to bring about, The British Line restor'd; the Norman linage out. § Then, those prodigious signes to ponder shee began, Which afterward againe the Britans wrack fore-ran; How here the Owle at noone in publique streets was seene, As though the peopled Townes had way-less Deserts been. And whilst the loathly Toad out of his hole doth crall, And makes his fulsome stoole amid the Princes hall, The crystall fountaine turn'd into a gory wound, And bloodie issues brake (like vlcers) from the ground; The Seas against their course with double Tides returne, And oft were seene by night like boyling pitch to burne.

Thus thinking, liuelie Stour bestirres her tow'rds the Maine; Which Lidden leadeth out: then Dulas beares her traine From Blackmore, that at once their warry tribute bring: VVhen, like some childish wench, shee looselie wantoning, With cricks and giddie turnes seemes to in-Ile the shore. Betwixt her fifhfull banks, then forward shee doth scowre, Vntill shee lastlie reach cleere Alen in her race: Which calmlie commeth downe from her deere mother c 1.134 Chase, Of Cranburn that is call'd; who greatly ioyes to see A Riueret borne of her, for Stours should reckned bee, Of that renowned flood, a fauourite highlie grac't.

Whilst Cranburn, for her child so fortunatelie plac't, VVith Ecchoes euerie way applauds her Alens state, A suddaine noise from d 1.135 Holt seems to congratulate VVith Cranburn for her Brooke so happily bestow'd: Where, to her neighboring Chase, the curteous Forrest show'd So iust conceiued ioy, that from each rising a 1.136 hurst, Where many a goodlie Oake had carefullie been nurst, The Syluans in their songs their mirthfull meeting tell; And Satyres, that in slades and gloomy dimbles dwell, Runne whooting to the hills to elappe their ruder hands.

As Holt had done before, so Canfords goodlie Launds (Which leane vpon the Poole) enricht with Coppras vaines, Reioyce to see them ioyn'd. When downe from Sarum Plaines Cleere Auon comming in her sister Stour doth call, § And at New-forrests foote into the Sea doe fall, Which euery day bewaile that deed so full of dred Whereby shee (now so proud) became first Forrested:

Shee now who for her site euen boundless seem'd to lie, §. Her beeing that receiu'd by Williams tyrannie; Prouiding Lawes to keepe those Beasts heere planted then, Whose lawless will from hence before had driuen men; That where the harth was warm'd with Winters feasting fiers, The melancholie Hare is form'd in brakes and briers: The aged ranpick trunk where Plow-men cast their seed, And Churches ouer-whelm'd with nettles, ferne and weed, By Conquering William first cut off from euery trade, That heere the Norman still might enter to invade; That on this vacant place, and vnfrequented shore, New forces still might land, to ayde those heere before. But shee, as by a King and Conqueror made so great, By whom shee was allow'd and limited her seat, Into her owne-selfe praise most insolently brake, And her lesse fellow Nymphs, New-forrest, thus bespake:

Thou Buckholt, bow to mee, so let thy sister Bere; * 1.137 Chute, kneele thou at my name on this side of the Shiere: Where, for their Goddesse, mee the b 1.138 Driads shall adore, With Waltham, and the Bere, that on the Sea-worne shore See at the Southerne Iles the Tides at tilt to runne; And Woolmer, placed hence vpon the rising sunne, With Ashholt thine Allie (my Wood-Nymphs) and with you, Proud Pamber tow'rds the North, ascribe me worship due. Before my Princelie State let your poore greatness fall: And vaile your tops to mee, the Soueraigne of you all.

Amongst the Riuers, so, great discontent there fell. Th'efficient cause thereof (as loud report doth tell) Was, that the sprightly Test arising vp in Chute, To Itchin, her Allie, great weakeness should impute, That shee, to her owne wrong, and euery others griefe, Would needs be telling things exceeding all beliefe: For, she had giuen it out South-hampton should not loose §. Her famous Beuis so, wer't in her power to choose; §. And, for great Arthurs seat, her Winchester preferres, Whose old Round-table, yet she vaunteth to be hers: And swore, th'inglorious time should not bereaue her right; But what it could obscure, she would reduce to light. For, from that wondrous * 1.139 Pond, whence shee deriues her head, And places by the way, by which shee's honored (Old Winchester, that stands neere in her middle way, And Hampton, at her fall into the Solent Sea) Shee thinks in all the Ile not any such as shee, And for a Demy-god she would related bee.

Sweet sister mine (quoth Test) advise you what you doe; Thinke this; For each of vs, the Forests heere are two:

Who, if you speake a thing whereof they hold can take, Bee't little, or bee't much, they double will it make: Whom Hamble helpeth out; a handsome proper flood, In curtesie well skild, and one that knew her good. Consider, quoth this Nymph, the times be curious now, And nothing of that kind will any way allow. Besides, the Muse hath, next, the British cause in hand, About things later done that now shee cannot stand.

The more they her perswade, the more shee doth persist; Let them say what they will, shee will doe what shee list. Shee stiles her selfe their Chiefe, and sweares shee will command; And, what-so-ere shee saith, for Oracles must stand. Which when the Riuers heard, they further speech forbare. And shee (to please her selfe that onely seem'd to care) To sing th'atchieuement great of Beuis thus began;

Redoubted Knight (quoth shee) ô most renowned man! Who, when thou wert but young, thy Mother durst reproue (Most wickedly seduc't by the vnlawfull loue Of Mordure, at that time the Almain Emperors sonne) That shee thy Sire to death disioyally had done: Each circumstance whereof shee largelie did relate; Then, in her song pursu'd his Mothers deadlie hare; And how (by Sabers hand) when shee suppos'd him dead, Where long vpon the Downes a Shepheards life hee led; Till by the great recourse, he came at length to knowe The Country there-about could hardly hold the showe His Mothers mariage feast to faire South-hampton drue, Be'ing wedded to that Lord who late her husband slue: Into his noble breast which pierc't so wondrous deepe, That (in the poore attire he vs'd to tend the sheepe, And in his hand his hooke) vnto the Towne hee went; As hauing in his heart a resolute intent Or manfullie to die, or to reuenge his wrong: VVhere pressing at the gate the multitude among, The Porter to that place his entrance that forbad (Supposing him some swaine, some boy strous Country-lad) Vpon the head hee lent so violent a stroke, That the poore emptie skull, like some thin potsheard broke, The braines and mingled blood, were spertled on the wall Then hasting on he came into the vpper Hall, Where murderous Mordure sate imbraced by his Bride: VVho (guiltie in himselfe) had hee not Beuis spide, His boanes had with a blowe been shattred: but, by chance (He shifting from the place, whilst Beuis did aduance His hand, with greater strength his deadly foe to hit, And missing him) his chaire hee all to shiuers split:

Which strooke his Mothers breast with strange and sundry feares, That Beuis beeing then but of so tender yeares Durst yet attempt a thing so full of death and doubt. And, once before deceiu'd, shee newlie cast about To rid him out of sight; and, with a mighty wage, Wonne such, themselues by oath as deeplie durst ingage, To execute her will: who shipping him away (And making forth their course into the Mid-land sea) As they had got before, so now againe for gold To an Armenian there that young Alcides sold: Of all his gotten prize, who (as the worthiest thing, And fittest where-withall to gratifie his King) Presented that braue youth; the splendor of whose eye A wondrous mixture shew'd of grace and maiestie: Whose more then man-like shape, and matchlesse stature, tooke The King; that often vs'd with great delight to looke Vpon that English Earle. But though the loue he bore To Beuis might be much, his daughter tenne times more Admir'd the god-like man: who, from the howre that first His beautie shee beheld, felt her soft bosome pierst With Cupids deadliest shaft; that Iosian, to her guest, Alreadie had resign'd possession of her breast.

Then sang shee, in the fields how as hee went to sport, And those damn'd Panims heard, who in despightfull sort Derided Christ the Lord; for his Redeemers sake He on those heathen hounds did there such slaughter make, That whilst in their black mouthes their blasphemies they drue, They headlong went to hell. As also how hee slue That cruell Boare, whose tusks turn'd vp whole fields of graine (And, wrooting, raised hills vpon the leuell Plaine; Digd Cauerns in the earth, so darke and wondrous deepe As that, into whose mouth the desperate * 1.140 Roman leepe): And cutting off his head, a Trophy thence to beare; The Forresters that came to intercept it there, How he their scalps and trunks in chips and peeces cleft, And in the fields (like beasts) their mangled bodies left.

As to his further praise, how for that dangerous fight The great Armenian King made noble Beuis Knight: And hauing raised power, Damasciss to invade, The Generall of his force this English Heroë made. Then, how faire Iosian gaue him Arundell his steed, And Morglay his good sword, in many a valiant deed Which manfully he tri'd. Next, in a * 1.141 Buskind straine, Sung how himselfe he bore vpon Damascus Plaine (That dreadful battell) where, with Bradamond he fought; And with his sword and steed such earthlie wonders wrought,

As euen amongst his foes him admiration won; Incountring in the throng with mightie Radison; And lopping off his armes, th'imperiall standard tooke. At whose prodigious fall, the conquered Foe for sooke The Field; where, in one day so many Peeres they lost, So braue Commaunders, and so absolute an host, As to the humbled earth tooke proud Damascus downe, Then tributarie made to the Armenian Crowne. And how at his returne, the King (for seruice done, The honor to his raigne, and to Armenia won) In mariage to this Earle the Princess Iosian gaue;

As into what distresse him Fortune after draue, To great Damascus sent Ambassador againe; When, in reuenge of theirs, before by Beuis slaine (And now, at his returne, for that he so despis'd Those Idols vnto whom they dailie sacrifiz'd: Which he to peeces hew'd and scattred in the dust) They, rising, him by strength into a Dungeon thrust; In whose blacke bottom, long two Serpents had remain'd (Bred in the common sewre that all the Cittie drain'd) Empoysning with their smell; which seiz'd him for their pray: With whom in strugling long (besmeard with blood and clay) He rent their squallid chaps, and from the prison scap't.

As how adultrous Ioure, the King of Mambrant, rap't Faire Iosian his deere Loue, his noble sword and steed: Which afterward by craft, he in a Palmers weed Recouerd, and with him from Mambrant bare away.

And with two Lions how hee held a desperat fray, Assayling him at once, that fiercelie on him flew: Which first he tam'd with wounds, then by the necks them drew, And gainst the hardned earth their iawes and shoulders burst; And that (Golia-like) great Ascupart inforc't To serue him for a slaue, and by his horse to runne.

At Colein as againe the glorie that he wonne On that huge Dragon, like the Country to destroy; Whose sting strooke like a Lance: whose venom did destroy As doth a generall plague: his scales like shields of brass; His bodie, when hee moou'd, like some vnweeldie mass, Euen brus'd the solid Earth. Which boldlie hauing song, With all the sundry turnes that might thereto belong, Whilst yet shee shapes her course how he came back to show What powers he got abroad, how them he did bestow; In England heere againe, how he by dint of sword Vnto his ancient lands and titles was restor'd, New-forrest cry'd enough: and Walthans with the Bere, Both bad her hold her peace; for they no more would heare.

And for shee was a flood, her fellowes nought would say; But slipping to their banks, slid silentlie away.

When as the pliant Muse, with faire and euen flight, Betwixt her siluer wings is wafted to the a 1.142 Wight: That Ile, which iutting out into the Sea so farre, Her ofspring traineth vp in exercise of warre; Those Pyrats to put backe that oft purloine her trade, Or Spaniards, or the French attempting to invade. Of all the Southerne Iles shee holds the highest place, And euermore hath been the great'st in Britaines grace: Not one of all her Nymphs her Soueraigne fauoureth thus, Imbraced in the armes of old Oceanus. For none of her account, so neere her bosome stand, Twixt b 1.143 Penwiths furthest point, and b 1.144 Goodwins queachy sand, Both for her seat and soyle, that farre before the other, Most iustlie may account great Britaine for her Mother. A finer fleece then hers not Lemsters selfe can boast, Nor Newport for her Mart, o'r-matcht by any Coast. To these, the gentle South, with kisses smooth and soft, Doth in her bosome breathe, and seemes to court her oft. Besides, her little Rills, her in-lands that doe feed, Which with their lauish streames doe furnish euerie need: And Meads, that with their fine soft grassie towels stand To wipe away the drops and moisture from her hand. And to the North, betwixt the fore-land and the firme, Shee hath that narrow Sea, which we the Solent tearme: * 1.145 Where those rough irefull Tides, as in her Straits they meet, With boystrous shocks and rores each other rudely greet: Which fiercelie when they charge, and sadlie make retrear, Vpon the bulwarkt Forts of c 1.146 Hurst and Calsheot beat, Then to South-hampton runne: which by her shores supplide (As Portsmouth by her strength) doth vilifie their pride; * 1.147

Both, Roads that with our best may boldlie hold their plea, Nor Plimmouths selfe hath borne more brauer ships then they; That from their anchoring Bayes haue tranailed to finde Large Chinas wealthie Realms, and view'd the either Inde, The pearlie rich Peru; and with as prosperous fate, Haue borne their ful-spred sailes vpon the streames of Plate: Whose pleasant harbors oft the Sea-mans hope renue, To rigge his late-craz'd Barke, to spred a wanton clue; Where they with lustie Sack, and mirthfull Sailers songs, Defie their passed stormes, and laugh at Neptunes wrongs: The danger quite forgot wherein they were of late; Who halfe so merrie now as Maister and his Mate? And victualling againe, with braue and man-like minds To Sea-ward cast their eyes, and pray for happie winds.

But, partlie by the floods sent thither from the shore, And Hands that are set the bordring coast before: As one amongst the rest, a braue and lustie Dame Call'd Portsey, whence that Bay of Portsmouth hath her name: By her, two little Iles, her handmaids (which compar'd With those within the Poole, for deftness not out-dar'd) The greater Haling hight: and fairest though by much, Yet Thorney verie well, but some-what rough in tuch. Whose beauties farre and neere divulged by report, And by the a 1.148 Trytons told in mightie Neptunes Court, Old b 1.149 Proteus hath been knowne to leaue his finny Heard, And in their sight to spunge his foame-bespawled beard. The Sea-gods, which about the watry kingdome keepe, Haue often for their sakes abandoned the Deepe; That Thetis many a time to Neptune hath complaind, How for those wanton Nymphes her Ladies were disdain'd: And there arose such rut th'vnrulie rout among, That soone the noyse thereof through all the Ocean rong.

§ VVhen Portsey, weighing well the ill to her might grow, In that their mightie stirres might be her ouer-throw, Shee stronglie straightneth-in the entrance to her Bay; That, of their haunt debard, and shut out to the Sea (Each small conceiued wrong helps on distempred rage.) * 1.150 No counsell could be heard their choler to aswage: When euery one suspects the next that is in place To be the onely cause and meanes of his disgrace. Some comming from the East, some from the setting Sunne, The liquid Mountaines still together mainlie runne; Waue woundeth waue againe; and billow, billow gores: And topsie turuie so, flie tumbling to the shores. From hence the Solent Sea, as some men thought, might stand Amongst those things, which wee call Wonders of our Land.

When toghing vp c 1.151 that streame, so negligent of fame, As till this verie day shee yet conceales her name; By Bert and Waltham both, that's equally imbrac't, And lastlie, at her fall, by Tichfield highlie grac't. Whence, from old Windsor hill, and from the aged d 1.152 Stone, The Muse those Countries sees, which call her to be gone. The Forests tooke their leaue: Bere, Chute, and Buckholt, bid Adieu; so Wolmer, and so Ashholt, kindly did. And Pamber shooke her head, as grieued at the hart; When farre vpon her way, and ready to depart, As now the wandring Muse so sadlie went along, To her last Farewell, thus, the goodlie Forests song.

Deere Muse, to plead our right, whom time at last hath brought, Which else forlorne had lyen, and banisht euerie thought,

When thou ascend'st the hills, and from their rising shrouds Our sisters shalt commaund, whose tops once toucht the clouds; Old a 1.153 Arden when thou meet'st, or doost faire b 1.154 Sherwood see, Tell them, that as they waste, so euerie day doe wee: Wish them, we of our griefes may be each others heirs; Let them lament our fall, and we will mourne for theirs.

Then turning from the South which lies in publique view, The Muse an oblique course doth seriously pursue: And pointing to the Plaines, she thither takes her way; For which, to gaine her breath shee makes a little stay.

Illustrations.

THe Muse, yet obseruing her began course of Chorographicall longitude, traces Eastward the Southerne shore of the I sle. In this second, sings Dor∣ser and Hantshire; fitly here ioyned as they ioine themselues, both hauing their South limits washt by the British Ocean.

Which th a 1.155 Ancients, for the loue that they to Isis bare

Iuba remembers a like corall by the Troglodytique Isles (as is here in this Sea) and stilesit * 1.156 〈◊〉〈◊〉 plocames. True reason of the name is no more perhaps to be giuen, then why, Adiantum is called Capillus Veneris, or Sengreene Barba Iouis. Onely thus: You haue in Plutarch and Apaleius such variety of Isis ti∣tles, and, in Clemens of Alexandria, so large circuits of her trauels, that it were no more wonder to heare of her name in this Northerne climat, then in AEgypt: especially, we hauing threeriuers of note b 1.157 synonymies with her. Particularly to * 1.158 make her a Sea-goddesse, which the common storie of her and Ofiris her hus∣band (sonne to Cham and of whom Bale dares offer affirmance, that in his tra∣uelling ouer the world, hee first taught the Britons to make Beere in steed of Wine) do's not: * 1.159 Isis Pelagia, after Pausanias testimony, hath an c 1.160 olde coine. The speciall notice which Antiquity tooke of her haire is not onely shewed by her attribute d 1.161 of * 1.162 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, but also in that her haire was kept as a sacred re∣lique in e 1.163 Memphis, as Geryons bones at Thebes, the Boores skin at Tegea, and such like elsewhere. And after this to fit our corall iust with her colour, * 1.164 AE∣thiopicis so libus Isis furua, she is called by f 1.165 Arnobius. Gentlewomen of blacke haire (no fault with breuity to turne to them) haue no simple patterne of that part in this great Goddesse, whose name indeed comprehended whatsoeuer in the Deity was feminine, and more too; nor will I sweare, but that Anacreon (a man very iudicious in the prouoking motiues of wanton loue) intending to be∣stow on his sweete Mistresse that one of the titles of womens speciall ornament, * 1.166 Well-haired, thought of this, when he gaue his Painter direction to make her picture blarke-haired. But thus much out of the way.

Thou neuer by that name of white-hart hadst beene knowne.

Very likely from the soile was the old name Blackmore. By report of this countrey, the change was from a white hart, reserued here from Chase, by ex∣presse will of Hen. III. and afterward killed by Thomas de la Lynd, a Gentleman of these parts. For the offence, a mulct imposed on the possessors of Black∣more

(called g 1.167 white-hart siluer) is to this day paid into the Exchequer. The destruction of woods here bewaild by the Muse, is (vpon occasion too often giuen) often seconded: but while the Muse bewailes them, it is Maryas and his * 1.168 country-men, that most want them.

On whom the watry God would oft haue had his will.

Purbeck (named, but indeed not, an Isle, being ioynd to the firme land) sto∣red with game of the Forrest.

Thence alluding to Diana's deuotions, the author well cals her an Huntres and a Nunne. Nor doth the embracing force of the Ocean (whereto she is adiacent) although very violent, preuaile against her stonie cliffes. To this pur∣pose the Muse is heere wanton with Neptunes wooing.

That he in little time vpon this louely dame, Begat three maiden Isles his darlings and delight.

Albian (sonne of Neptune) from whom that first name of this Britaine was supposed, is well fitted to the fruitfull bedde of this Poole, thus personated as a Sea Nymph. The plaine truth (as wordes may certifie your eyes, sauing all im∣propriety of obiect) is, that in the Poole are seated three Isles, Brunksey, Fursey, * 1.169 and S. Helens, in situation and magnitude, as I name them. Nor is the fiction of begetting the Isles improper; seeing Greek h 1.170 antiquities tell vs of diuers in the Mediterranean and the Archipelag, as Rhodes, Delos, Hiera, the Echinades, and o∣thers, which haue beene, as it were, brought forth out of the salt womb of Amphitrite.

But towards the Solent Sea, as Stour her way dothply, On Shastsbury, &c.

The straight twixt the Wight and Hantshire, is titled in Bedes story, * 1.171 Pelagus latitudinis III, millium quod vocatur Solente; famous for the double, and ther∣by most violent flouds of the Ocean (as Scyila & Charybdis twixt Sicily and Ita∣ly in Homer) expresled by the Author towards the end of this Song, & reckon'd among our British wonders. Of it the Author tels you more presently. Con∣cerning Shaftesbury (which, beside other names, from the corps of S^t. Edward, * 1.172 murdred in Corse Castle, through procurement of the bloudy hate of his step∣mother AElfrith, hither translated, and some III. yeares lying buried, was once called St. Edwards) you shall heare a peece out of Harding; k 1.173 Caire Daladoure that now is Shafteshury
Where an Angell spake fitting on the wall
While it was in working over all.
Speaking of Rudhudibras his fabulous building it. I recite it, both to mend it, l 1.174 reading Aigle for Angell, and also that it might then, according to the British story, helpe me explaine the author in this,

As brought into her minde the Eagles prophecies.

This Eagle (whose prophecies among the Britons, with the later of Merlin, haue beene of no lesserespect, then those of Bacis were to the Greekes, or the Sybillines to the Romanes) forefold of a reuerting of the crowne, after the Bri∣tons, Saxons, and Normans to the first againe, which in Hen. V II. sonne to O∣wen Tyddour, hath beene m 1.175 obserued, as fulfilled. This in particular is peremp∣torily

affirmed by that Count Palatine of Basingstoke. * 1.176 Et aperte dixit tempus a∣liquando fore vs Britannium imperium denuo sit ad verteres Britannos post Saxo∣nas & Normannos rediturum, are his wordes of this Eagle. But this prophe∣cie in Manuscript I haue seene, and without the helpe of Albertus secret, Cana∣ce's ring in Chaucer, or reading ouer Aristophanes Comedie of Birds I vnder∣stood the language; neyther finde I in it any such matter expresly. Indeed as in Merlin you haue in him the white Dragon, the redde Dragon, the blacke Dra∣gon for the Saxons, Britaines, Normane's, and the fertile tree, supposed for Brute, by one that of later time hath giuen his obscurities n 1.177 interpretation: in which, not from the Eagles, but from an Angelicall voyce, almost DCC, yeares after Christ, giuen to Cadwallader (whom otherscall Cedwalla) that restitution of the crowne to the Britons is promised, and grounded also vpon some generall and ambiguous words in the Eagles text, by the Author here followed; which (pro∣uided your faith be strong) you must beleeue made more then 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. D. years since. For a corrollary, in this not vnfit place, I will transcribe a piece of the Glosse out of an olde copie, speaking thus vpon a passage in the prophecie: Henricus o 1.178 IIII. (hemeanes Hen. III. who, by the ancient account in regard of Henry, sonneto Henry Fite-lempresse, crowned in his fathers life, is in Bracton and others called the fourth) concessit omne ius & clameum, prose & heredibus su∣is, quod habuit in Ducatu Normanniae imperpetuùm. Tunc fractum fuit 〈◊〉〈◊〉 si∣gillum & mutatum; nam prius tenebat in sceptro gladium, nunc tenet virgam; qui gladi{us} fuit de conquestu Ducis Willielmi Bastards, & ideo dicit Aquila, separabitur gladius à sceptro. Such good fortune haue these praedictions, that eyther by conceit (although strained) they are applied to accident, or else euer religiously expected; as * 1.179 Buchanan of Merlins,

Then those prodigious signes to ponder she began.

I would not haue you lay to the Authors charge a iustification of these signes at those times: but his liberty herein, it is not hard to iustifie,
Obsedit{que} frequens castrorum limina bubo:
and such like hath Silius Italicus before the Roman ouerthrow at Canna; and Historians commonly affirm the like; therfore a Poet may wel guesse the like.

And at New-forrest foote into the Sea doth fall.

The fall of Stour and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 into the Ocean is the limit of the two shires, and here limits the Authors description of the first, his Muse now entring New-for∣rest in Hantshire.

Her being that receiu'd by Williams tyrannie.

New-forest (it is thought the newest in England, except that of Hampton Court, made by Hen. VIII. ) acknowledges William her maker, that is, the Norman Con∣queror. His loue to this kinde of possession and pleasure was such, that he con∣stituted losse p 1.180 of Eies punishment for taking his Venery: so affirme expresly Florence of Worcester, Henry of Huntingdon, Walter Mapez, and others, al∣though the Author of Distinctio Aquilae, with some of later time, falsly laid it to William Rufus his charge. To iustifie my truth, and for variety, see these rimes, q 1.181 euen breathing antiquity:
Game of houndes he louede inou, and of wild best,
And * 1.182 is forest, and is wodes, and mest the niwe forest,
That is in Suthamtessire, boz thulke he louede inow

And astored well * 1.183 mid 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and * 1.184 lese mid gret won:
Uor he cast out of house and bom of men a great route,
And * 1.185 binom their land thritti mile and more thereaboute,
And made it all forest and lese the bests 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to fede,
Of pouer men 〈◊〉〈◊〉 he nom let el hede:
〈◊〉〈◊〉 therein bell mony mischeuing,
And is sone was thereine * 1.186 〈◊〉〈◊〉 William the red 〈◊〉〈◊〉,
And * 1.187 is o sone, that het Richard, caght there is deth also,
And Richard * 1.188 is o neuen, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 there is neck thereto,
As he rod an 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and perauntre his horse sprend,
The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ido to pouer men to such mesauntre trend.

But to quit you of this antique verse, I returne to the pleasanter Muse.

Hir famous Beuis so wert in her power to choose;

About the Norman inuasion was Beuis famous with title of Earle of South∣hampton; Duncton in Wiltshire knowne for his residence. What credit you are to giue to the Hyperbolies of Itchin in her relation of Beuis, your owne iudge∣ment, and the Authors censure in the admonition of the other riuers here personated, I presume, will direct. And it is wished that the poeticall Monkes in celebration of him, Arthur, and other such Worthies had contained themselues within bounds of likelyhood; or else that some iudges, proportionat to those r 1.189 of the Graecian Games, (who alwayes by publique authority pull'd downe the * 1.190 statues erected, if they exceeded the true symmetry of the victors) had giuen such exorbitant fictions their desert. The sweet grace of an inchanting Poem (as vnimitable 〈◊〉〈◊〉 s 1.191 affirmes) often compels beliefe; but so farre haue the indi∣gested reports of barren and Monkish inuention expatiated out of the lists of Truth, that from their intermixed and absurd fauxeties hath proceeded doubt; and, in some, euen deniall of what was truth. His sword is kept as a relique in A∣rundell Castle, not equalling in length (as it is now worne) that of Edward the thirds at Westminster.

And for great Arthurs seat her Winchester preferres, Whose old round table yet, &c.

For him, his table, order, Knights, and places of their celebration, looke to the IV. Song.

When Portsey waighing well the ill to her might grow.

Portsey an Iland in a creeke of the Solent, comming in by Portesmouth, en∣dures the forcible violence of that troublesome sea, as the Verse tels you in this fiction of wooing.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The third Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

In this third Song, great threatnings are, And tending all to Nymphish warre. Old Wansdike vttereth words of hate, Deprauing Stonendges estate. Cleere Avon and faire Willy striue, Each pleading her prerogatiue. The Plaine the Forrests doth disdaine: The Forrests raile vpon the Plaine. The Muse then seekes the Shires extreames, To find the Fountaine of great Tames; Falls downe with Avon, and discries Both Bathes and Bristowes braueries: Then viewes the Sommersetian soyle; Through Marshes, Mines, and Mores doth toyle, To Avalon to Arthurs Graue, Sadlie bemoan'd of Ochy Caue. Then with delight shee brauelie brings The Princely Parret from her Springs: Preparing for the learned Plea (The next Song) in the Seuerne Sea.

VP with the iocund Larke (Too long we take our rest.) Whilst yet the blushing Dawne out of the cheerfull East Is vshering forth the Day to light the Muse along: Whose most delightfull touch, and sweetness of her Song, Shall force the lustie Swaines out of the Country-townes, To lead the louing Girles in daunces to the Downes. The Nymphs, in Selwoods shades and Bradens woods that bee, Their Oaken wreathes, ô Muse, shall offervp to thee. And when thou shap'st thy course tow'rds where the soile is rank, The Sommer setian mayds, by swelling Sabryns bank Shall strewe the waies with flowers (where thou art comming on) Brought from the Marshie-grounds by aged * 1.192 Avalon.

From Sarum thus we set, remou'd from whence it stood By Avon to reside, her deerest loued Flood: Where her imperious a 1.193 Fane her former seate disdaines, And proudly ouer-tops the spacious neighboring Plaines. VVhat pleasures hath this Ile, of vs esteem'd most deere, In any place, but poore vnto the plentie heere? The chaulkie b 1.194 Chiltern fields, nor Kelmarsh selfe compares With c 1.195 Euerley for store and swiftnes of her Hares: A horse of greater speed, nor yet a righter hound, Not any where twixt Kent and d 1.196 Calidon is found. Nor yet the leuell South can shewe a smoother Race, Whereas the * 1.197 ballow Nag out-strips the winds in chase; As famous in the West for matches yeerelie uide, As e 1.198 Garterley, possest of all the Northen pride: And on his match, as much the Western horseman layes, As the rank-riding Scots vpon their f 1.199 Gallowayes.

And as the Westernesoyle as sound a Horse doth breed, As doth the land that lies betwixt the Trent and Tweed: No Hunter, so, but finds the breeding of the West, The onely kind of Hounds, for mouth and nostrill best; That cold doth sildome fret, nor heat doth ouer-haile; * 1.200 As standing in the Flight, as pleasant on the Traile; Free hunting, easely checkt, and louing euery Chase; Straight running, hard, and tough, of reasonable pase: Not heauie, as that hound which Lancashire doth breed; Nor as the Northerne kind, so light and hot of speed, Vpon the cleerer Chase, or on the foyled Traine, Doth make the sweetest cry, in Wood-land, or on Plaine.

Where she, of all the Plaines of Britaine, that doth beare The name to be the first (renowned euerie where) Hath worthily obtaind that Stonendge there should stand: Shee, first of Plaines; and g 1.201 that, first Wonder of the Land. Shee Wansdike also winnes, by whom shee is imbrac't, That in his aged armes doth gird her ampler wast: Who (for a mightie Mound sith long he did remaine § Betwixt the Mercians rule, and the West-Saxons raigne, And therefore of his place him selfe hee proudly bare) Had very oft beene heard with Stonendge to compare; VVhom for a paltry Ditch, when Stonendge pleasd t'vpbraid, The old man taking heart, thus to that Trophy said;

Dull heape, that thus thy head aboue the rest doost reare, Precisely yet not know'st who first did place thee there; But Traytor basely turn'd to Merlins skill doost flie, And with his Magiques doost thy Makers truth belie: Conspirator with Time, now growen so meane and poore, Comparing these his spirits with those that went before;

Yet rather art content thy Builders praise to lose, Then passed greatnes should thy present wants disclose. Ill did those mightie men to trust thee with their storie, That hast forgot their names, who rear'd thee for their glorie: For all their wondrous cost, thou that hast seru'd them so, What tis to trust to Tombes, by thee we easely know.

In these invectiues thus whilst Wansdick doth complaine, He interrupted is by that imperious * 1.202 Plaine, § To hear two crystall Floods to court her, that apply Themselues, which should be seene most gracious in her eye.

First, Willy boasts her selfe more worthy then the other, And better farre deriu'd: as hauing to her mother Faire a 1.203 Selwood, and to bring vp b 1.204 Diuer in her traine; Which, when the envious soile would from her course restraine, A mile creeps vnder earth, as flying all resort: And how cleere Nader waits attendance in her Court; And therefore claimes of right the Plaine should hold her deere, * 1.205 Which giues that Towne the name; which likewise names the Shire.

The Easterne Avon vaunts, and doth vpon her take To be the onelie child of shadefull c 1.206 Sauernake, As Ambrayes ancient flood; her selfe and to enstile The Stonendges best-lov'd, first wonder of the Ile; And what (in her behoofe) might any want supply, Shee vaunts the goodlie seat of famous Saliburie; Where meeting prettie Bourne, with many a kind embrace, Betwixt their crystall armes they clip that loued place.

Report, as lately rais'd, vnto these Riuers came, § That Bathes cleere Avon (waxt imperious through her fame) Their daliance should deride; and that by her disdaine, Some other smaller Brooks, belonging to the Plaine, A question seem'd to make, whereas the Shire sent forth Two Avons, which should be the flood of greatest worth; This streame, which to the South the d 1.207 Celtick Sea doth get, Or that which from the North saluteth Somerset.

This when these Riuers heard, that euen but lately stroue VVhich best did loue the Plaine, or had the Plaines best loue, They straight themselues combine: for Willy wiselie waide, That should her Avon lose the day for want of aide, If one so great and neere were ouer prest with power, The Foe (shee beeing lesse) would quicklie her deuour. As two contentious Kings, that on each little 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Defiances send forth, proclaiming open warre, Vntill some other Realme, that on their frontires lies, Be hazarded againe by other enemies, Doe then betwixt themselues to composition fall, To countercheck that sword, else like to conquer all:

So falls it with these Floods, that deadlie hate doe beare. And whilst on either part strong preparations were, It greatly was suppos'd strange strife would there haue been, Had not the goodly Plaine (plac't equally betweene) Fore-warn'd them to desist, and off their purpose brake: When in behalfe of Plaines thus (gloriously) she spake;

a 1.208 Away yee barb'rous Woods; How euer yee be plac't On Mountaines, or in Dales, or happily be grac't With floods, or marshie * 1.209 fels, with pasture, or with earth By nature made to till, that by the yeerely birth The large-bay'd Barne doth fill, yea though the fruitfulst ground. For, in respect of Plaines, what pleasure can be found In darke and sleepie shades? where mists and rotten fogs Hang in the gloomie thicks, and make vnstedfast bogs, By dropping from the boughs, the o're-growen trees among, With Caterpillers kells, and duskie cobwebs hong.

The deadlie Screech-owle sits, in gloomie couert hid: Whereas the smooth-brow'd Plaine, as liberallie doth bid The Larke to leaue her Bowre, and on her trembling wing In climing vp tow'rds heauen, her high-pitcht Hymnes to sing Vnto the springing Day; when gainst the Sunnes arise The earlie Dawning strewes the goodly Easterne skies VVith Roses euery where: who scarcelie lifts his head To view this vpper world, but hee his beames doth spred Vpon the goodlie Plaines; yet at his Noonesteds hight, Doth scarcelie pierce the Brake with his farre-shooting sight.

The gentle Shepheards heer survay their gentler sheepe: Amongst the bushie woods luxurious Satyrs keepe. To these braue sports of field, who with desire is wonne, To see his Grey-hound course, his Horse (in diet) runne, His deepe mouth'd Hound to hunt, his long-wingd Haulk to flie, To these most noble sports his mind who doth apply, Resorts vnto the Plaines. And not a foughten Field, Where Kingdoms rights haue laine vpon the speare and shield, But Plaines haue beene the place; and all those Trophies hie That ancient times haue rear'd to noble memorie: As, Stonendge, that to tell the British Princes slaine By those false Saxons fraud, here euer shall remaine. It was vpon the Plaine of Mamre (to the fame Of mee and all our kind) whereas the Angels came To Abraham in his Tent, and there with him did feed; To Sara his deere wife then promising the seed By whom all Nations should so highly honor'd bee, In which the Sonne of God they in the flesh should see. But Forests, to your plague there soone will come an Age, In which all damned sinnes most vehemently shall rage.

An Age! what haue I said! nay, Ages there shall rise, So senselesse of the good of their posterities, That of your greatest Groues they scarce shall leaue a tree (By which the harmelesse Deere may after sheltred bee) Their luxurie and pride but onely to maintaine, And for your long excesse shall turne ye all to paine.

Thus ending; though some hils themselues that doe applie To please the goodly Plaine, still standing in her eie, Did much applaud her speech (as Haradon, whose head * 1.210 Old Ambry still doth awe, and Bagden from his sted, Suruaying of the Vies, whose likings do allure Both Ouldbry and Saint Anne; and they againe procure Mount Marting-sall: and he those hils that stand aloofe, Those brothers Barbury, and Badbury, whose proofe Addes much vnto her praise) yet in most high disdaine, The Forrests take her words, and sweare the prating Plaine Growne old began to doate: and Sauernake so much Is galled with her taunts (whom they so nearely touch) That she in spitefull tearmes defies her to her face; And Aldburne with the rest, though being but a Chase, At worse then nought her sets: but Bradon all afloate VVhen it was tolde to her, set open such a throate, That all the countrey rang. She cals her barren Iade, Base Queane, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 VVitch, and wisht she could be made But worthy of her hate (which most of all her grieues) The basest beggers Baude, a harborer of theeues. Then Peusham, and with her old Blackmore (not behinde) Do wish that from the Seas some soultrie Southerne winde, The foule infectious damps, and poisned aires would sweepe, And poure them on the Plaine, to rot her and her Sheepe.

But whilst the sportiue Muse delights her with these things, She strangely taken is with those delicious Springs Of Kenet rising here, and of the nobler Streame Of Isis setting forth vpon her way to Tame, § By Greeklade; whose great name yet vaunts that learned tong, VVhere to great Britaine first the sacred Muses song; VVhich first were seated here, at Isis bountious head, As telling that her fame should through the world be spread; And tempted by this flood, to Oxford after came, There likewise to delight her bridegroome, louely Tame: VVhose beautie when they saw, so much they did adore, That Greeklade they forsooke, and would goe backe no more.

Then Bradon gently brings forth Avon from her source: Which Southward making soone in her most quiet course, Receiues the gentle Calne: when on her rising side, First Blackmoore crownes her banke, as Peusham with her pride

Sets out her murmuring sholes, till (turning to the West) Her, Somerset receiues, with all the bounties blest That Nature can produce in that Bathonian Spring, Which from the Sulphury Mines her med'cinall force doth bring; As Physick hath found out by colour, taste, and smell, Which taught the world at first the vertue of that Well; What quickliest it could cure: which men of knowledge drew From that first minerall cause: but some that little knew (Yet felt the great effects continually it wrought) § Ascrib'd it to that skill, which Bladud hither brought, As by that learned King the Bathes should be begunne; Not from the quickned Mine, by the begetting Sunne Giuing that naturall power, which by the vig'rous sweate, Doth lend the liuely Springs their perdurable heate In passing through the veines, where matter doth not need; Which in that minerous earth insep'rably doth breed: So nature hath puruai'd, that during all her raigne The Bathes their natiue power for euer shall retaine: Where Time that Citie built, which to her greater fame, Preseruing of that Spring, participates her name; The Tutilage whereof (as those past worlds did please) Some to Minerua gaue, and some to Hercules: Proud Phoebus loued Spring, in whose Diurnall course, * 1.211 § When on this point of earth he bends his greatest force, By his so strong approach, prouokes her to desire; Stung with the kindly rage of loues impatient 〈◊〉〈◊〉: Which boiling in her wombe, proiects (as to a birth) Such matter as she takes from the grosse humorous earth; Till purg'd of dregs and slime, and her complexion cleere, She smileth on the light, and lookes with mirthfull cheere.

Then came the lustie Freome, the first of floods that met Faire Avon entring in to fruitfull Somerset, With her attending Brooks; and her to Bathe doth bring, Much honoured by that place, Minerua's sacred Spring. To noble Avon, next, cleere Chute as kindly came, To Bristow her to beare, the fairest seat of Fame: To entertaine this flood, as great a mind that hath, And striuing in that kind farre to excell the Bath. As when some wealthy Lord, prepares to entertaine * 1.212 A man of high account, and feast his gallant traine; Of him that did the like, doth seriously enquire His diet, his deuice, his seruice, his attire; That varying euerything (exampled by his store) He euerie way may passe what th'other did before: Euen so this Citie doth; the prospect of which place To her faire building addes an admirable grace;

Well fashioned as the best, and with a double wall, As braue as any Towne; but yet excelling all For easement, that to health is requisit and meete; Her piled shores, to keepe her delicate and sweete: Hereto, she hath her Tides; that when she is opprest With heat or drought, still poure their floods vpon her breast.

To Mendip then the Muse vpon the South inclines, Which is the onely store, and Coffer of her Mines: Elsewhere the Fields and Meades their sundry traffiques suit: The Forrests yeeld her wood, the Orchards giue her fruit.

As in some rich mans house his seuerall charges lie, There stands his Wardrobe, here remaines his T reasurie; His large prouision there, of Fish, of Fowl, and Neat; His Cellars for his Wines, his Larders for his meate; There Banquet houses, Walkes for pleasure; here againe Cribs, Graners, Stables, Barnes, the other to maintaine: So this rich countrey hath, it selfe what may suffice; Or that which through exchange a smaller want supplies:

Yet Cchyes dreadfull Hole still held her selfe disgrac't, § With * 1.213 th'wonders of this Ile that she should not be plac't: But that which vext her most, was, that the a 1.214 Peakish Caue Before her darkesome selfe such dignitie should haue; And b 1.215 th'Wyches for their Salts such state on them should take; Or Cheshire should preferre her sad c 1.216 Death-boding-lake; And Stonendge in the world should get so high respect, Which imitating Artebutidly did erect: And that amongst the rest, the vaine inconstant d 1.217 Dee, By changing of his Foards, for one should reckond bee; As of another sort, wood turn'd to e 1.218 stone; among, Th'anatomized f 1.219 Fish, and Fowles from g 1.220 planchers sprong: And on the Cambrian side those strange and wondrous h 1.221 Springs, Our i 1.222 beasts that seldome drinke; a thousand other things Which Ochy inly vext, that they to fame should mount, And greatly griev'd her friends for her so small account; That there was scarcely Rock, or Riuer, Marsh, or Meare That held not Ochyes wrongs (for all held Ochy deare) § In great and high disdaine: and Froome for her disgrace Since scarcely euer washt the Colesleck from her face; But (melancholy growne) to Avon gets a path, Through sickeness forc't to seeke for cure vnto the Bath: § And Chedder for meere griefe his teene he could not wreake, Gusht forth so forcefull streames, that he was like to breake The greater bankes of Ax, as from his mothers Caue, He wandred towards the Sea; for madnesse who doth raue At his drad mothers wrong: but who so wo begon For Ochy, as the Ile of ancient Aualon?

Who hauing in her selfe, as inward cause of griefe, Neglecteth yet her owne, to giue her friend reliefe. The other so againe for her doth sorrow make, And in the Iles behalfe the dreadfull Cauerne spake;

O three times famous Ile, where is that place that might Be with thy selfe compar'd for glorie and delight, Whilst Glastenbury stood? exalted to that pride, Whose Monasterie seem'd all other to deride? O who thy ruine sees, whom wonder doth not fill With our great fathers pompe, deuotion, and their skill? Thou more then mortall power (this iudgement rightly wai'd) Then present to assist, at that foundation lai'd; On whom for this sad waste, should Iustice lay the crime? Is there a power in Fate, or doth it yeeld to Time? Or was their error such, that thou could'st not protect Those buildings which thy hand did with their zeale erect? To whom didst thou commit that monument, to keepe, That suffreth with the dead their memory to sleepe? §. When not great Arthurs Tombe, nor holy a 1.223 Iosephs Graue, From sacriledge had power their sacred bones to saue; He who that God in man to his sepulchre brought, Or he which for the faith twelue famous battels fought. What? Did so many Kings do honor to that place, For Auarice at last so vilely to deface? For reu'rence, to that seat which hath ascribed beene, b 1.224 Trees yet in winter bloome, and beare their Summers greene.

This said, she many a sigh from her full stomacke cast, Which issued through her breast in many a boystrous blast; And with such floods of teares her sorrowes doth condole, As into riuers turne within that darkesome hole: Like sorrow for her selfe, this goodly Ile doth trie; §. Imbrac't by Selwoods sonne, her flood the louely Bry, On whom the Fates bestow'd (when he conceiued was) He should be much belou'd of many a daintie Lasse; Who giues all leaue to like, yet of them liketh 〈◊〉〈◊〉. But his affection sets on beautious Aualon; Though many a plump-thigh'd moore, & ful-flanck't marsh do proue * 1.225 To force his chaste desires, so dainty of his loue. First Sedgemore shewes this floud, her bosome all vnbrac't, And casts her wanton armes about his slender wast: Her louer to obtaine, so amorous Audry seekes: And Gedney softly steales sweet kisses from his cheekes. One takes him by the hand, intreating him to stay: Another pluckes him backe, when he would faine away: But, hauing caught at, length, whom long he did pursue, Is so intranc't with loue, her goodly parts to view,

That altring quite his shape, to her he doth appeare, And casts his crystall selfe into an ample Mearc: But for his greater growth when needs he must depart, And forc't to leaue his Loue (though with a heauie hart) As hee his back doth turne, and is departing out, The batning marshie Brent enuirons him about: But lothing her imbrace, away in hastc he flings, And in the Seuerne Sea surrounds his plentious Springs.

But, dallying in this place so long why doost thou dwell, So many sundry things here hauing yet to tell? Occasion calls the Muse her pynions to prepare. Which (striking with the wind the vast and open aire) Now, in the finnie Heaths, then in the Champains roues; Now, measures out this Plaine; and then survayes those groues; The batfull pastures fenc't, and most with quickset mound, The sundry sorts of soyle, diuersitie of ground; Where Plow-men cleanse the Earth of rubbish, weed, and filth, And giue the fallow lands their seasons and their tylth: Where, best for breeding horse; where cattell fitst to keepe; Which good for bearing Corne; which pasturing for sheepe: The leane and hungry earth, the fat and marly mold, Where sands be alwaies hot, and where the clayes be cold; With plentie where they waste, some others toucht with want: Heere set, and there they sowe; here proine, and there they plant.

As Wiltshire is a place best pleas'd with that resort Which spend away the time continuallie in sport; So Somerset, herselfe to profit doth apply, As giuen all to gaine, and thriuing huswifrie. For, whereas in a Land one doth consume and wast, Tis fit another be to gather in as fast: This liketh moorie plots, delights in sedgie Bowres, The grassy garlands loues, and oftattyr'd with flowres Of ranke and mellow gleabe; a sward as soft as wooll, With her complexion strong, a belly plumpe and full.

Thus whilst the actiue Muse straines out these various things, Cleere Parret makes approach, with all those plentious Springs Her fruitful banks that blesse; by whose Monarchall sway, Shee fortifies her selfe against that mightie day Wherein her vtmost power she should be forc't to try. For, from the Druides time there was a prophecie, That there should come a day (which now was neere at hand By all forerunning signes) that on the Easterne Strand, If * 1.226 Parret stood not fast vpon the English side, They all should be supprest: and by the British pride In cunning ouer-come; for why, impartiall Fate (Yet constant alwaies to the Britains crazed state)

Forbad they yet should fall; by whom she meant to showe How much the present Age, and after-times should owe Vnto the line of Brute. Cleere Parret therefore prest Her tributarie Streames, and whollie her addrest Against the ancient Foe: First, calling to her ayde Two Riuers of * 1.227 one name; which seeme as though they stayd Their Empresse as she went, her either hand that take. The first vpon the right, as from her source, doth make Large Muchelney an Ile, and vnto Ivell lends Her hardlie-rendred name: That on her left, descends From Neroch's neighboring woods; which, of that Forest borne, Her riualls proffered grace opprobriously doth scorne. Shee by her wandring course doth Athelney in-Ile: And for the greater state, her selfe she doth instile § The nearest neighbouring flood to Arthurs ancient seat, Which made the Britaines name through all the world so great. Like Camelot, what place, was euer yet renownd? VVhere, as at Carlion, oft, hee kept the Table-round, Most famous for the sports at Pentecost so long, From whence all Knightlie deeds, and braue atchieuements sprong. As some soft-sliding Rill, which from a lesser head (Yet in his going forth, by many a Fountaine fed) Extends it selfe at length vnto a goodly streame: So, almost through the world his fame flew from this Realme; That iustlie I may charge those ancient Bards of wrong, So idly to neglect his glorie in their Song. For some aboundant braine, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 there had been a storie Beyond the * 1.228 Blind-mans might to haue inhanc't our glorie.

Tow'rds the Sabrinian Sea then Parret setting on, To her attendance next comes in the beautious Tone, Crown'd with embroidred banks, and gorgeously arraid With all th'enamild flowers of manie a goodly Mead: In Orchards richly clad; whose proud aspyring boughes Euen of the tallest woods doe scornea iote to loose, Though Selwoods mighty selfe and Neroch standing by: The sweetnes of her soyle through euery Coast doth fly. What eare so empty is, that hath not heard the sound Of Tauntons fruitfull a 1.229 Deane? not matcht by any ground; By b 1.230 Athelney ador'd, a neighbourer to her Land: Whereas those higher hills to view faire Tone that stand, Her coadiuting Springs with much content behold: Where Sea-ward Quantock stands as Neptune he controld, And Blackdown In-land borne, a Mountain and a Mound, As though he stood to look about the Country round: But Parret as a Prince, attended heere the while, Inricht with euery Moore, and euery In-land Ile,

Vpon her taketh State, well forward tow'rds her fall: Whom lastly yet to grace, and not the least of all, Comes in the liuely Carre, a Nymph, most louely cleere, From Somerton sent downe the Soueraigne of the Sheere; Which makes our Parret proude. And wallowing in excesse, Whilst like a Prince she vaunts amid the watry presse, The breathlesse Muse awhile her wearied wings shall ease, To get her strength to stem the rough Sabrinian Seas.

Illustrations.

DIscontinuing her first course, the Muse returnes to Somerset and Wiltshire, which lie twixt the Seuerne and Hantshire; as the Song here ioynes them:

From Sarum thus we set, remou'd from whence it stood.

Old Salisbury seated Northeast from the now famous Salisbury, some mile distant, about Richard Ceur de Lions time had her name and inhabitants, hither translated, vpon the meeting of Auon and Aderborn; where not long after she enioy'd, among other, that glorious title of admiration for her sumptuous Church-buildings. Of that, one of my Authors thus:
—in the yeare of grace
Twelf hundred and to and twenti in the baire place * 1.231
Of the noble 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Salesburi hii leide the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 stone
That me not in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 work non.
Ther was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Legat, and as hept of echon,
He leide biue the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 stones: as bor the Pope put on,
The other bor bre * 1.232 yonge King, the thridde as me seys
〈◊〉〈◊〉 the gode Crle of Salisburi William * 1.233 the Longespet,
The berth bor the Contesse, the biste he leide tho
〈◊〉〈◊〉 the * 1.234 Bishop of Salesburi, and he ne leide na mo.
This worke then began, was by Robert of Bingham, next succeeding Bishop to that excellencie, prosecuted.

Hath worthily obtaind that Stonehenge there should stand.

Vpon Salisbury plaine stones of huge waight and greatnes, some in the earth pitcht, and informe erected, as it were circular; others lying crosse ouer them, as if their owne poize did no lesse then their supporters giue them that proper place, haue this name of Stone-benge;
But so confus'd that neyther any eye
Can count them inst, nor reason reason try,
What force brought them to so vnlikely ground.
As the noble a 1.235 Sidney of them.

No man knowes, saith b 1.236 Huntingdon (making them the first wonder of this Land, as the Author doth) how, or why they came here. The cause thus take from the British storie: Hengist vnder colour of a friendly treaty with Vorti∣gern at Amesbury, his falshoods watch word to his Saxons (prouided therepriui∣ly

with long kniues) being * 1.237 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉, there trayterously slew CD. IX. noble Britons, and kept the King prisoner. Some xxx. yeares after K. Ambros (to honour with one monument the name of so many murdred Worthies) by helpe of Vter-pen-dragons forces and Merlins magique, got them transpor∣ted from off a plaine (others say a hill) neere c 1.238 Naas in Kildare in Ireland, hither, to remain as a trophy, not of victory, but of wronged innocencie. This Mer∣lin perswaded the King that they were medicinall, and first brought out of the vtmost parts of Afrique by Giants which thence came to inhabit Ireland. * 1.239 Non¦est ibi lapis qui medicamento caret, as in Morlins person Geffrey of Monmouth speakes; whose authority in this treacherous slaughter of the Britons, I respect not so much as Nennius, Malmesbury, Sigebert, Matthew of Westminster, and o∣thers, who report it as I deliuer. Whether they be naturally solid or with cement artificially compos'd, I will not dispute. Although the last be of easier credit; yet I would, with our late Historian White, beleeue the first sooner, then that V∣lysses ship was by Neptune turnd into one stone, as it is in the Odyssees, and that the AEgyptian King Amasis has a house cut out in one marble (which, by Hero∣dotus description, could not after the workmanship haue lesse content then 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. CCC. XCIV. solid cubits, if my Geometry faile me not) or that which the Iewes d 1.240 are not asham'd to affirme of a stone, with which K. Og at one throw from his head purpos'd to haue crusht all the Israelites, had not a Lapwing strangely peckt such a hole through it, that it fell on his shoulders, and by mi∣racle his vpper-teeth suddainly extended, kept it there fast from motion. It is possible they may be of some such earthy dust as that of Puzzolo, and by AEt∣na, which cast into the water turnes stonie, as Pliny after Strabo of them and o∣ther like remembers. And for certain e 1.241 I find it reported, that in Cairnarnan vpon Snowdon hils is a stone (which miraculously somewhat more then LX. yeares since, rais'd it selfe out of a lake at the hils foot) equalling a large house in great∣nes, and suppos'd not moueable by a M. yoake of Oxen. For the forme of bringing them, your opinion may take freedom. That great one which Hercu∣les f 1.242 is wondred at for the carriage was but * 1.243 a Cartload, which he left for a mo∣nument in Otranto of Italy: and except Geffrey of Monmouth, with some which follow him, scarce any affirme or speake of it, nor Neunius, nor Malmesbury; the first liuing somewhat neere the supposed time.

Betwixt the Mercian rule, and the West-Saxons raigne.

So thinkes our Antiquary and Light of this Kingdome; that, to be a limit of those two ancient states, sometime diuided by Auon, which falls into Seuerna, Wansdike crossing the shire Westward ouer the plaine was first cast vp. Wodens∣dike, the old name is supposed from Woden; of no lesse (if not greater) esteeme to the Saxons, then Arsaces, Pelops, Cadmus, and other such to their posterity; but so, that, I guesse it went but for their greatest God Mercury (he is called ra∣ther Wonden from Win, that is, gaine by * 1.244 Lipsius) as the German and English anti∣quities discouer. And very likely, when this limit was made, that in honor of him, being by name president of wayes, and by his office of Heraldship Paci∣fex. i. Peacemaker, as an old stamptitles him, they called it Wodensdike; as not * 1.245 onely the Greeks g 1.246 had their 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 (statues erected) for limits and direction of wayes, and the Latines their Terminus, but the ancient Iewes also, as vpon interpretation of 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 h 1.247 in the Prouerbs. i. into an heape of Mercury (in the vulgar) for a heape of stones in that sense, Goropius in his hieroglyphiques affirmes, somewhat boldly deriuing Mercury from 〈◊〉〈◊〉, which signifies a li∣mit in his and our tongue, and so fits this place in name and nature. Stonhenge and it not improperly contend, being seuerall workes of two seuerall na∣tions

anciently hatefull to each other; Britons and Saxons.

To heare two cristall floods to court her, which apply

Willibourne (by the old name the Author cals her Vvilly) deriued from neere Selwood by VVarmister, with her creeky passage, crossing to VVilton, naming both that town and the shire, and on the other side Auon taking her course out of Sauernak by Marleborow through the shire Southward, washing Ambresbury and the Salisburies (new Salisbury being her Episcopall citie) both watring the plaine, and furnisht with these reasons, are fitly thus personated, striuing to en∣deare themselues in her loue: & prosecuting this fiction, the Muse thus addes;

How that Bathe's Auon waxt imperious through her fame.

Diuers riuers of that name haue we; but two ofeminent note in Wiltshire: one is next before shew'd you, which fals through Dorcet into the Ocean; the other here mentioned hath her head in the edge of Glocester: and with her snakie course, visiting Malmesbury, Chippenham, Bradford, and diuers townes of slight note, turns into Somer set, passes Bath, and casts herselfe into Scuerne at Bristow. This compendious contention (whose proportionat example is a speciall ele∣gancie for the expressing of diuersity, as in the Pastorals of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Vir∣gill) is aptly concluded with that point of ancient politique a 1.248 obseruation, that Outward common feare is the surest band of friendship.

To Greeklade whose great name yet vants that learned tong.

The History of Oxford in the Proctors booke, and certaine old verses, b 1.249 kept somewhere in this tract, affirme, that with Brute came hither certaine Greeke Philosophers, from whose name and profession here it was thus called, and as an Vniuersity afterward translated to Oxford (vpon like notation a company of Physitians retiring to * 1.250 Lechlade in this shire, gaue that its title, as I. Rous addes in his story to Hen. VII.) But Godwine and a very old Anonymus, cited by Br-Twine, referre it to Theodore of Tarsus in Cilicia (made Archbishop of Canterbu∣ry by P. Vitalian vnder Ecgbert King of Kent) very skiful in both tongues, and an extraordinary restorer of learning to the English-Saxons; That he had (a∣mong other) Greeke schooles, is certaine by Bedes affirmation that some of his scholers vnderstood both Greeke and Latin as their mother language. Richard of the Vies c 1.251 will that Penda, K. of Mercland, first deduced a colony of Cam∣bridge men hither and cals it Crekelade, as other Kirklade with variety of names: but I suspect all; as well for omission of it in best authorities, as also that the name is so different in it selfe. Grecolade was neuer honoured with Greeke schooles, as the ignorant multitude thinke, saith d 1.252 Leland, affirming it should be rather Creclade, Lechelade, or Lathlade. Nor me thinkes (of all) stands it with the British story, making the tongue then a kind of Greeke (a matter, that way reasonable enough, seeing it is questionles that colonies anciently deriued out of the Westerne Asia, Peloponnesus, Hellas, and those continents into the coast whence Brute came, transported the Greeke with them) that profession of * 1.253 Gracians should make this so particular a name.

Ascrib'd to that high skill which learned Bladud brought

You are now in Somersetshire. I doubt not but the true cause is that, which is ordinary of other hot springs; not the sunnes heat (sauing the authors opinion,

which hath warrant enough in others) or agitation of wind, as some will; but eyther passage through metallique, bituminous, and sulphurous veins, or ra∣ther a reall subterranean fire, as e 1.254 Empedocles first thought, and with most witty arguments (according to the Poeticall conceit of Typhon, f 1.255 buried in Prochyta; wherto Strabo referres the best Bathes in Italy) my learned and kind friend M^r. Lydtat, that accurat Chronologer, in his ingenious Philosophy, hath lately dis∣puted. But, as the Author tels you, some British vanity imputes it to Bladuds art, which in a very ancient fragment g 1.256 of rimes I found exprest: and if you can endure the language and fiction you may reade it, and then laugh at it.
Two 〈◊〉〈◊〉 there beth of bras,
And other two imaked of glas
Seue seats there buth inne
And other thing imaked with ginne:
Duick brimston in them also,
With wild her imaked thereto:
Sal gemmae and sal petrae,
Sal armonak there is eke
Sal albrod and sal alkine
Sal Gemmae is minged with him,
Sal Comin and sal almetre bright
That borneth both day and night,
Al this is in the tonne ido
And other things many mo,
And borneth both night and day
That neuer quench it ne may
In bour welsprings the tonnes liggeth
As the Philosophers bs 〈◊〉〈◊〉. * 1.257
The here within, the water without,
Maketh it hot a labout
The two welsprings earneth mere
And the other two beth inner clere.
There is maked full iwis
That kings bath icluped is.
The rich king bladud
The kings sonne Lud
And when he maked that bath hot
And if him failed ought
Of that that should thereto,
Derkeneth what he would do
From Bath to London he 〈◊〉〈◊〉
And thulke day selfe againe 〈◊〉〈◊〉
And fetch that thereto biuel,
He was quicke, and swith bell
Tho the master was ded
And is soule wend to the Dued
For god ne was not put pbore
〈◊〉〈◊〉 deth saffred him biuore.
I will as soone beleeue all this, as that S. h 1.258 Deui or Iulius i 1.259 Caesar (who neuer came neere it) was author of it, or that he made Knights of the Bath. They are not wanting which haue durst say so.

When on this point of earth he bends his greatest force.

From eight in the morning till three (within which time the Sunne beames make their strongest angles of incidence) it purges it selfe (as boyling) of vn∣cleane

excrements, northen doth any enter it; which the Muse here expresses in a feruent sympathy of loue twixt the Water and the Sun, and the more pro∣perly because it had the name of a 1.260 * 1.261 Aquae Solis.

With th' wonders of the Ile that she should not be plac't.

* 1.262 Wockey hole (so call'd in my conceit, from pocz b 1.263, which is the same with pic, signifying a hollow or creekie passage) in Mendip hills by Welles, for her spacious vaults, stonie walles, creeping Labyrinths, vnimaginable cause of posture in the earth and hir neighbours report (all which almost equall her to that Grotta de la c 1.264 Stbylla in the Apenin of Marca Ancenitana, and the Dutch song of little Daniel) might well wonder she had not place among her countrey wonders. One that seemes to encrease Samuel Beaulan vpon Nenntus, reckons XIII. by * 1.265 that name, but with vaine and false reports (as that of the Bath to be both hot and cold, according to the desire of him that washes) and in some the Au∣thor of Polychronicon followes him; neyther speaking of this. But the last, and Henry of Huntingdon reckon onely foure remarqueable; the Peake, Ston∣henge. Chederhole, and a hiil out of which it raines. That wonder of humane ex∣cellence, Sir Philip Sidney, to fit his Sonnet, makes six; and to fit that number conceitedly addes a froward, but chast, Lady for the seuenth. And the Author here tels you the chiefest.

—that Froome for her disgrace, Since scarcely euer wasbt the Colesleck from her face.

Out of Mendip hils Froome springeth, and through the Colepits after a short course Eastward turnes vpward to Bathes Avon. The fiction of her besmear'd face happens the better, in that Froome, after our old mother language, signifies faire, as that paradoxall Becanus d 1.266, in exposition of the Egyptian Pyromis in He∣rodotus, e 1.267 would by notation teach vs.

And Chedder for meere griefe his teene he could not wreake.

Neere Axbridge, Chedder cleeues, rockey and vauted, by continual distilling, is the fountain of a forcible stream (driuing XII. Mils within a miles quarter of its head) which runnes into Ax deriued out of Wocker.

When not great Arthurs Tombe, nor holy Iosephs Graue

Henry the second in his expedition towards Ireland entertayned by the way in Wales with Bardish songs, wherein he heard it affirmed that in Glastenbury (made almost an Ile by the Riuers embracements) Arthur was buried twixt two pillars, gaue commandement to Henry of Blois then Abbot, to make search for the corps: which was found in a wooden coffin (Gtrald saith Oken, Leland thinks Alder) some sixteene foote deepe; but after they had digged nine foot, they f 1.268 found a stone on whose lower side was fixt a leaden crosse (Crosses fixt vpon the Tombs of old Christians were in all places ordinary) with his name inscribed, and the letter side of it turn'd to the stone. He was then honored with a sumptuous monument, and afterward the sculs of him and his wife Gui∣neuer weretaken out (to remaine as separat reliques and spectacles) by Edward Longshanks and Elianor. Of this, Girald, Leland, Prise, diuers others (although Polydore make slight of it) haue more copious testimony. The Bards Songs suppose, that after the battell of Camlan in Cornwall, where trayterous Mordred

was slaine, and Arthur wounded, Morgain le Fay a great Elfin Lady (sup∣posed his neere kinswoman) conueyed the body hither to cure it: which done, Arthur is to returne (yet expected) to the rule of his country. Read these attributed to the a 1.269 best of the Bards, expressing as much:
—Morgain suscepit honore,
In{que} suis thalamis posuit super aurea regem
Fulcra, mannu{que} 〈◊〉〈◊〉 detexit vulnus honest â
Inspexit{que} diù: tandem{que} redire salutem
Posse sibi dixit, si secum tempore longo
Esset, & ipsius vellet medicainine fungi.
Englishe in meeter for me thus by the Author:
—Morgain with honor took,
And in a chaire of State doth cause him to repose;
Then with a modest hand his wounds she doth vnclose:
And hauing searcht them well, she bad him not to doubt,
He should in time be cur'd, if he would stay it out,
And would the med'cine take that she to him would giue.
The same also in effect, an excellent b 1.270 Poet of his time thus singing it.
He is a King crouned in Fairie,
With Scepter and sword and with his regally
Shall resort as Lord and Soueraigne
Out of Fairie and reigne in Britaine:
And repaire againe the Round Table
By prophesy Merlin set the date,
Among Princes King incomparable
His seat againe to Carlion to translats
The Parchas 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sponne so his fate
His * 1.271 Epitaph recordeth so certaine
Here lieth K. Arthur that shall raigne againe.

Worthily famous was the Abbey also from Ioseph of Arimathia (that, * 1.272 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, as S. Mark cals him) here buried, which giues proof of Christianity in the Ile before our Lucius. Hence in a Charter of liberties by Hen. II. to the Ab∣bey (made in presence of Heraclius Patriarch of Ierusalem, and others) I reade, * 1.273 Olim à quibusdammater sanctorum dicta est, ab alijs tumulus sanctorum, quam ab ipsis * 1.274 discipulis Domini edificatam & ab ipso Domino dedicatam primò fuisse venerabilis habet antiquorum authoritas. It goes for currant truth that a Haw∣thorne thereby on Christmas day alwayes blossometh: which the Author tels * 1.275 you in that, Trees yet in winter &c. You may cast this into the account of your greatest wonders.

Imbrac't by Selwoods sonne her stood the louely Bry. * 1.276

Selwood sends forth Bry, which after a winding course from Bruton, (so called of the Riuer) through part of Sedgemore, and Andremore, comes to Glastenbury, & almost inisles it; thence to Gedney Moore, & out of Brent marsh into Seuerne.

The neerest neighbouring floods to Arthurs ancient seat.

By south Cadbury is that Camelot; a hill of a mile compasse at the top, foure trenches circling it, and twixt euery of them an earthen wall; the content of it, within, about xx. acres, full of ruines and reliques of old buildings. Among Roman coines there found, and other workes of antiquity, Stow speakes of a sil∣uer Horseshow there digged vp in the memory of our fathers: * 1.277 Dij boni (saith Leland) quot hic profundissimarum fossarum? quot hîc egest ae terrae valla? quae de∣mùm praecipitia? at{que} vt paucis finiam, videtur mihi 〈◊〉〈◊〉 esse & At is & Natu∣raemiraculum. Antique report makes this one of Arthurs places of his Round Table, as the Muse here sings. But of this more in the next Canto.

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The fourth Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

England and Wales striue, in this Song, To whether, Lundy doth belong: When eithers Nymphs, to cleere the doubt, By Musick meane to try it out. Of mightie Neptune leaue they aske: Each one betakes her to her taske; The Britaines, with the Harpe and Crowd: The English, both with still and loud. The Britaines chaunt King Arthurs glory: The English sing their Saxons storie. The Hills of Wales their weapons take, And are an vprore like to make, To keepe the English part in awe. There's heaue, and shoue, and hold, and draw; That Severne can them scarce divide, Till Iudgment may the Cause decide.

THis while in Sabrin's Court strong factions strangely grew, Since Cernwall for her owne, and as her proper due, Claim'd Lundy, which was said to Cambria to belong, Who oft had sought redresse for that her ancient wrong: But her inveterate Foe, borne-out by Englands might, O're-swaies her weaker power; that (now in eithers right) As Severne finds no Flood so great, nor poorelie meane, But that the naturall Spring (her force which doth maintaine) a 1.278 From this or that shee takes; so from this Faction free (Begun about this Ile) not one was like to bee.

This Lundy is a Nymph to idletoyes inclin'd; And, all on pleasure set, doth wholliegiue her mind To see vpon her shores her Fowle and Conies fed, § And wantonlie to hatch the Birds of Ganimed. Of trafique or returne shee neuer taketh care: Not prouident of pelfe, as many Ilands are:

A lustie black-brow'd Girle, with forehead broad and hie, That often had bewitcht the Sea-gods with her eye. Of all the In-laid Iles her Soueraigne Seuerne keepes, That bathe their amorous breasts within her secret Deepes (To loue her a 1.279 Barry much and Silly though shee seeme, The Flat Holme and the Steepe as likewise to esteeme) This noblest British * 1.280 Nymph yet likes her Lundy best, And to great Neptunes grace preferres before the rest.

Thus, b 1.281 Cambria to her right that would her selfe restore, And rather then to lose c 1.282 Loëgria, lookes for more; The Nymphs of either part, whom passion doth invade, To triall straight will goe, though Neptune should disswade: But of the weaker sex, the most part full of spleene, And onely wanting strength to wreake their angry teene, For skill their challenge make, which euerie one profest, And in the learned Arts (of knowledges the best, And to th'heroïck spirit most pleasing vnder skie) Sweet Musick, rightlie matcht with heauenlie Poësie, In which they all exceed: and in this kind alone They Conquerers vow to be, or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ouerthrowne.

Which when faire Sabrine saw (as shee is wondrous wise) And that it were in vaine them better to advise, Sith this contention sprang from Countries like alli'd, That shee would not be found t'incline to either side, To mightie Neptune sues to haue his free consent Duetriall they might make: When he incontinent His Trytons sendeth out the challenge to proclaime.

No sooner that divulg'd in his so dreadfull name, But such a shout was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 from 〈◊〉〈◊〉 neighboring Spring, That the report was heard through all his Court to ring: And from the largest 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the lesser Brooke, Them to this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 taske they seriouslie betooke: They 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fronts; and not the smallest Beck But with white Pebles makes her Tawdries for her neck; Lay forth their amorous breasts vnto the publique view, Enamiling the white, with veines that were as blew; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Moore, each Marsh, each Mead, preparing rich array To set their Riuers forth against this generall day. Mongst Forrests, Hills, and Floods, was ne're such heaue and shoue Since d 1.283 Albion weelded Armes against the sonne of Ioue.

When as the English part their courage to declare, Them to th'appointed place immediatly prepare. A troupe of stately Nymphs proud Avon with her brings (As shee that hath the charge of wise e 1.284 Mineruas Springs) From Mendip tripping downe, about the tinny Mine. And Ax, no lesse imploy'd about this great designe,

Leads forth a lustie Rout; when Bry, with all her throng (With very madnes swolne that she had stai'd so long) Comes from the boggie Mears and queachy fens below: That Parret (highly pleas'd to see the gallant show) Set out with such a traine as bore so great a sway, The soyle but scaroely serues to giue her hugenesse way.

Then the Deuonian Tawe, from Dertmore deckt with pearle, Vnto the conflict comes: with her that gallant Girle § Cleere Towridge, whom they fear'd would haue estrang'd her fall: Whose comming, lastlie, bred such courage in them all, As drew downe many a Nymph from the Cornubian shore, That paint their goodlie breasts with sundrie sorts of Ore.

The British, that this while had stood a view to take What to her vtmost power the publique Foe could make, But slightlie weigh their strength: for, by her naturall kind, As still the Britan beares a braue and noble mind; So, trusting to their skill, and goodnes of their Cause, For speedie Triall call, and for indifferent Lawes.

At length, by both allow'd, it to this issue grew; To make a likely choise of some most expert crew, Whose number comming neere vnto the others dowre, The English should not vrge they were o're-borne by powre. § Yet hardlie vpon Powse they dare their hopes to lay, For that shee hath commerce with England euery day: § Nor Rosse; for that too much shee Aliens doth respect; And following them, forgoes her ancient Dialect. The a 1.285 Venedotian Floods, that ancient Britans were, The Mountaines kept them backe, and shut them in the Reare: But Brecknock, long time knowne a Country of much worth, Vnto this conflict brings her goodly Fountaines forth: For almost not a Brooke of b 1.286 Morgany, nor Gwent, But from her fruitfull wombe doe fetch their hie descent. For Bretan, was a Prince once fortunate and great (Who dying, lent his name to that his nobler seat) With c 1.287 twice twelue daughters blest, by one and onely wife: Who for their beauties rare, and sanctitle of life, To Riuers were transform'd; whose pureness doth declare How excellent they were, by beeing what they are: Who dying virgins all, and Riuers now by Fate, To tell then former loue to the vnmaried state, To Seuerne shape their course, which now their forme doth beare; Ere shee was made a flood, a virgine as they were. And from the Irish seas with feare they still doe flie: So much they yet delight in may den companie.

Then most renowned Wales, thou famous ancient place, Which still hast been the Nurse of all the British race,

Since Nature thee denies that purple-cluster'd Vine, Which others Temples chafes with fragrant sparkling Wine; And being now in hand, to write thy glorious praise; Fill me a bowle of Meath, my working spirit to raise: And ere seuen Bookes haue end, I'le strike so high a string, Thy Bards shall stand amaz'd with wonder, whilst I sing; § That Taliessen, once which made the Riuers dance, And in his rapture raiz'd the Mountaines from their trance, Shall tremble at my Verse, rebounding from the skies; Which like an earth-quake shakes the Tomb wherein he lies.

First our triumphing Muse of sprightly Vske shall tell, And what to euery Nymph attending her, befell: VVhich Cray and Camlas first for Pages doth reteane; VVith whom the next in place comes in the tripping Breane, VVith Isker; and with her comes Hodny fine and cleere, Of Brecknock best belov'd, the Soueraigne of the Sheere: And Grony, at an inch, waits on her Mistress heeles. But entring (at the last) the Monumethian fields, Small Fidan, with Cledaugh, increase her goodly Menie, Short Kebby, and the Brooke that christneth Abergeny.

VVith all her watry traine, when now at last she came Vnto that happie Towne which beares her * 1.288 onely name, Bright Birthin, with her friend faire Olwy, kindly meet her; VVhich for her present haste, haue scarcely time to greet her: But earnest on her way, she needsly will be gone; So much she longs to see the ancient Carleon. When Avon commeth in, then which amongst them all A finer is not found betwixt her head and fall. Then Ebwith, and with her slides Srowy; which forelay Her progresse, and for Vske keepe entrance to the Sea.

When Munno, all this while, that (for her owne behoofe) From this their great recourse had strangely stood aloofe, Made proude by Monmouths name appointed her by Fate, Of all the rest herein obserued speciall state. For once the Bards foretold she should produce a a 1.289 King, VVhich euerlasting praise to her great name should bring, VVho by his conquering sword should all the land surprise, Which twixt the b 1.290 Penmenmaur and the c 1.291 Pyreni lies: She therefore is allow'd her leasure; and by her They winne the goodly Wye, whome strongly she doth stirre Her powerfull helpe to lend: which else she had denide, Because her selfe so oft to England she allyed: But b'ing by Munno made for Wales, away she goes. Which when as Throggy sees, her selfe she headlong throwes Into the watry throng, with many another Rill, Repairing to the Welch, their number vp to fill,

That Remny when shee saw, these gallant Nymphs of Gwent, On this appointed match, were all so hotlie bent, Where shee of ancient time had parted, as a Mound The Monumethian fields, and Glamarganian ground, Intreats the Taffe along, as gray as any glasse: With whom cleere Cunno comes, a lustie Cambrian Lasse: Then Elwy, and with her Ewenny holds her way, And Ogmore, that would yet be there as soone as they, By Avon called in: when nimbler Neath anon (To all the neighbouring Nymphs for her rare beauties known; Besides her double head, to helpe her streame that hath Her handmaids, Melta sweet, cleere Hepsey, and Tragath) From Brecknock forth doth breake; then 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Cledaugh, By * 1.292 Morgany doe driue her through her watry a 1.293 saugh; With Tawy, taking part t'assist the Cambrian power: § Then Lhu and Lager, giuen to strengthen them by 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Mongst whom, some Bards there were, that in their sacred rage Recorded the Descents, and acts of euerie Age. Some with their nimbler ioynts that strooke the warbling string; In fingering some vnskild, but onelie vs'd to sing Vnto the others Harpe: of which you both might find Great plentie, and of both excelling in their kind, § That at the Stethva oft obtain'd a Victors praise, Had wonne the Siluer Harpe, and worne Apollos Bayes: Whose Verses they deduc't from those first golden times, Of sundry sorts of Feet, and sundry sutes of Rimes. In b 1.294 Englins some there were that on their subiect straine; Some Makers that againe affect the loftier vaine, Rehearse their high conceits in Cowiths: other-some In Owdells theirs expresse, as matter haps to come; So varying still their Moods, obseruing yet in all Their Quantities, their Rests, their Ceasures metricall: For to that sacred skill they most themselues apply; Addicted from their births so much to Poësie, That in the Mountaines those who scarce haue seene a Booke, Most skilfully will * 1.295 make, as though from Art they tooke.

And as Loëgria spares not any thing of worth That any way might set her goodly Riuers forth, As stones by nature cut from the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Strond; Her Dertmore sends them Pearle; Rock-vincent, Diamond: So Cambria, of her Nymphs especiall care will haue. For Conwy sends them Pearle to make them wondrous braue; The sacred c 1.296 〈◊〉〈◊〉, her mofse most sweet and rare, Against infectious damps for Pomander to weare: And d 1.297 Goldcliff of his Ore in plentious sort allowes, To spangle their artyers, and deck their amorous browes.

And lastlie, holie Dee (whose pray'rs were highly priz'd, As one in heauenlie things deuoutlie exercis'd: Who, a 1.298 changing of his Foards, by divination had Fore-told the neighboring folke of fortune good or bad) In their intended course sith needs they will proceed, His Benediction sends in way of happy speed. And though there were such haste vnto this long-lookt howre, Yet let they not to call vpon th'Eternall Power. For, who will haue his worke his wished end to winne, Let him with hartie prayer religiouslie beginne. Wherefore the English part, with full deuout intent, In meet and godlie sort to Glastenbury sent, Beseeching of the Saints in Avalon that were, There offring at their Tombes for euerie one a teare, § And humblie to Saint George their Countries Patron pray, To prosper their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 now in this mightie day.

The Britans, like deuout, their Messengers direct To Dauid, that he would their ancient right protect. Mongst Hatterills loftie hills, that with the clowds are crown'd, The Vally b 1.299 Ewias lies, immur'd so deep and round, As they belowe that see the Mountaines rise so hie, Might thinke the stragling Heards were grazing in the skie: Which in it such a shape of solitude doth beare, As Nature at the first appointed it for pray'r: VVhere, in an aged Cell, with mosse and lvie growne, In which, not to this day the Sunne hath euer showne, That reuerent British Saint in zealous Ages 〈◊〉〈◊〉 To contemplation liu'd; and did so trulie fast, As he did onelie drinke what crystall Hodney yeelds, And fed vpon the Leeks he gather'd in the fields. In memorie of whom, in the reuoluing yeere The Welch-men on his day that sacred herbe doe weare: Where, of that holie man, as humblie they doe craue, That in their iust defence they might his furtherance haue.

Thus either, well prepard the others power before, Conuenientlie be'ing plac't vpon their equall shore; The Britans, to whose lot the Onset doth belong, Giue signall to the Foe for silence to their Song.

To tell each various Straine and turning of their Rimes, How this in compasse falls, or that in sharpeness climes (As where they rest and rise, how take it one from one, As euery seuerall Chord hath a peculiar Tone) Euen Memorie herselfe, though striuing, would come short But the materiall things Muse helpe me to report.

As first, t'affront the Foe, in th'ancient Britans right, With Arthur they begin, their most renowned Knight;

The richness of the Armes their well-made a 1.300 Worthie wore, The temper of his sword the (try'd Escalaboure) The bignes and the length of Rone, his noble Speare; With Pridwin his great Shield, and what the proofe could beare; His Baudrick how adorn'd with stones of wondrous price, § The sacred Virgins shape lie bore for his deuice; These monuments of worth, the ancient Britans song.

Now, doubting least these things might hold them but too long, His warres they tooke to taske; the Land then ouer-layd With those proud German powers: when, calling to his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 His kinsman Howell, brought from Britany the lesse, Their Armies they vnite, both swearing to suppresse The Saxon, heer that sought through conquest all to gaine. On whom he chanc't to light at Lincolne: where the Plaine Each where from side to side lay scatter'd with the dead. And when the conquer'd Foe, that from the conflict 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Betooke them to the woods, hee neuer left them there Vntill the British earth he forc't them to forsweare. And as his actions rose, so raise they still their veine, In words, whose weight best sute a sublimated straine

§ They sung how he, him selfe at Badon bore that day, When at the glorious Gole his British Scepter lay: Two daies together how the battell stronglie stood: b 1.301 Pendragons worthie sonne who waded there in blood, Three hundred Saxons slew with his owne valiant hand.

And after (cald, the Pict, and Irish to withstand) How he, by force of Armes Albania ouer-ran, Pursuing of the Pict beyond Mount Calidon: There strongly shut them vp whom stoutly he subdu'd.

How Gillamore againe to Ireland he pursu'd So oft as he presum'd the envious Pict to ayde: And hauing slaine the King, the Country waste hee laid.

To Goth-land how againe this Conqueror maketh-forth With his so prosp'rous powers into the farthest North: Where, Island first he wonne, and Orkney after got.

To Norway sayling next with his deere Nephew Lot, By deadlie dint of sword did Ricoll there defeat: And hauing plac't the Prince on that Norwegian seat, How this courageous King did Denmarke then controle: That scarcelie there was found a Countrie to the Pole That dreaded not his deeds, too long that were to tell.

And after these, in France th'adventures him befell At Paris, in the Lists, where he with Flollio fought; The Emperor Leons power to raise his Siege that brought.

Then brauelie set they forth, in combat how these Knights On horseback and on foote perform'd their seuerall fights:

As with what maruailous force each other they assaild, How mighty Flollio first, how Arthur then prevail'd; For best advantage how they trauersed their grounds, The horrid blowes they lent, the world-amazing wounds, Vntill the Tribune, tyr'd, sanke vnder Arthurs sword.

Then sing they how hee first ordain'd the Circled-board, The Knights whose martiall deeds farre fam'd that Table-round; Which, truest in their loues; which, most in Armes renown'd: The Lawes, which long vp-held that Order, they report; § The Pentecosts prepar'd at Carleon in his Court, That Tables ancient seate; her Temples and her Groues, Her Palaces, her Walks, Baths, Theaters, and Stoues: Her Academie, then, as likewise they prefer: Of Camilot they sing, and then of Winchester. The feasts that vnder-ground the Faërie did him make, And there how he enioyd the Lady of the Lake.

Then told they, how him selfe great Arthur did advance, To meet (with his Allies) that puissant force in France, By Luctus thither led; those Armies that while-ere Affrighted all the world, by him strooke dead with feare: Th'report of his great Acts that ouer Europe ran, In that most famous Field he with the Emperor wan: As how great Rython's selfe hee slew in his repaire, Who rauisht Howells Neece, young Hellena the faire; And for a Trophy brought the Giants coat away Made of the beards of Kings. Then brauelie chanted they The seuerall twelue pitcht Fields he with the Saxons fought: The certaine day and place to memorie they brought; Then by false Mordreds hand how last hee chanc't to fall, The howre of his decease, his place of buriall.

When out the English cry'd, to interrupt their Song: But they, which knew to this more matter must belong, Not out at all for that, nor any whit dismay'd, But to their well-tun'd Harps their fingers closelie laid: Twixteuery one of which they plac't their Countries Crowd, And with courageous spirits thus boldly sang aloud; How Merlin by his skill, and Magiques wondrous might, From Ireland hither brought the Stonendge in a night: § And for Carmardens sake, would faine haue brought to passe, About it to haue builta vvall of solid Brasse: And set his Fiends to work vpon the mightie frame; Some to the Anvile: some, that still inforc't the flame: But whilst it was in hand, by louing of an Elfe (For all his wondrous skill) was coosned by him selfe. For, walking with his Fay, her to the Rocke hee brought, In which hee oft before his Nigromancies wrought:

And going in thereat his Magiques to haue showne, Shee stopt the Cauerns mouth with an inchanted stone: Whose cunning strongly crost, amaz'd whilst he did stand, Shee captiue him convay'd vnto the Fairie Land.

Then, how the laboring spirits, to Rocks by fetters bound, With bellowes rumbling groanes, and hammers thundring sound, A fearefull horrid dinne still in the Earth doe keepe, Their Master to awake, suppos'd by them to sleepe; As at their work how still the grieued spirits repine, Tormented in the Fire, and tyred at the Mine.

VVhen now the British side scarce finished their Song, But th'English that repyn'd to be delay'd'so long, All quicklie at the hint, as with one free consent, Strooke vp at once and sung each to the Instrument; (Of sundry sorts that were, as the Musician likes) On which the practic'd hand with perfect'st fingring strikes, Whereby their height of skill might liueliest be exprest. The trembling Lute some touch, some straine the Violl best In sets which there were seene, the musick wondrous choice: Some likewise there affect the Gamba with the voice, To shew that England could varietie afford. Some that delight to touch the sterner wyerie Chord, * 1.302 The Cythron, the Pandore, and the Theorbo strike: The Gittern and the Kit the wandring Fidlers like. So were there some againe, in this their learned strife Loud Instruments that lov'd; the Cornet and the Phife, The Hoboy, Sagbut deepe, Recorder, and the Flute: Euen from the shrillest Shawme vnto the Cornamute. Some blowe the Bagpipe vp, that plaies the Country-round: The Taber and the Pipe, some take delight to sound.

Of Germanie they sung the long and ancient fame, From whence their noble Sires the valiant Saxons came, Who sought by Sea and Land Adventures farre and neere; And seizing at the last vpon the Britans heere, Surpriz'd the spacious Ile, which still for theirs they hold: As in that Countries praise how in those times of old, § Tuisco, Gomers sonne, from * 1.303 vnbuilt Babell brought His people to that place, with most high knowledge fraught, And vnder wholsome Lawes establisht their aboad; Whom his Tudeski since haue honor'd as a God: Whose cleare creation made them absolute in all, Retaining till this time their pure Originall. And as they boast themselues the Nation most vnmixt, Their language as at first, their ancient customes fixt, The people of the world most hardie, wise and strong; So gloriously they show, that all the rest among

The Saxons of her sorts the very noblest were: And of those crooked Skaines they vs'd in vvarre to beare, Which in their thundring tongue, the Germans, Handseax name, § They Saxons first were call'd: whose farre extended fame For hardiness in warre, whom danger neuer fraid, Allur'd the Britans here to call them to their ayde: From whom they after reft Loëgria as their own, Brutes ofspring then too weake to keepe it beeing grown.

This told: the Nymphs againe, in nimbler straines of wit, Next neatly come about, the Englishmen to quit Of that inglorious blot by Bastard William brought Vpon this conquered Ile: then which Fate neuer wrought A fitter meane (say they) great Germany to grace; To graft againe in one, two Remnants of her race: Vpon their seuerall waies, two seuerall times that went To forrage for themselues. The first of which shee sent § To get their seat in Gaul: which on Nuestria light, * 1.304 And (in a famous warre the Frenchmen put to flight) Possest that fruitfull place, where onely from their name § Call'd North-men (from the North of Germanie that came, Who thence expeld the Gaules, and did their roomes supply) This, first Nuestria nam'd, was then call'd Normandy. That by this meanes, the lesse (in conquering of the great) Be'ing drawne from their late home vnto this ampler seat, Resyding heere, resign'd what they before had wonne; * 1.305 § That as the Conquerors blood, did to the conquered runne: So kindlie beeing mixt, and vp together growne, As seuered, they were hers; vnited, stil her owne.

But these mysterious things desisting now to show (The secret works of heauen) to long Descents they goe: How Egelred (the Sire of Edward the last King Of th'English Saxon Line) by nobly marying With hardie Richards heire, the Norman Emma, bred Alliance in their bloods. Like Brooks that from one head Beare seuerall waies (as though to sundry Seas to hast) But by the varying soyle, int'one againe are cast: So chanced it in this the neernes of their blood. For when as Englands right in question after stood, Proud Harould, Goodwins heire, the Scepter hauing wonne From Edgar Etheling young, the outlaw'd Edwards sonne; The valiant Bastard this his onelie colour made, With his braue Norman powers this kingdome to invade. Which leauing, they proceed to Pedigrees againe, Their after-Kings to fetch from that old Saxon straine; From Margarit that was made the Scottish Malcoms Bride, Who to her Grandsire had courageous Ironside:

Which out-law'd Edward left; whose wife to him did bring This Margarit Queene of Scots, and Edgar Etheling: That Margarit brought forth Maud; which gracious Macolme gaue To Henry Beuclarks bed (so Fate it pleas'd to haue) § Who him a daughter brought; which heauen did strangely spare: And for the speciall loue he to the mother bare, Her Maude againe he nam'd, to th'Almain Emperor wed: Whose Dowager whilst shee liu'd (her puissant Caesar dead) She th'Earle of Aniou next to husband doth prefer. The second Henry then by him begot of her, Into the Saxon Line the Scepter thus doth bring.

Then presently againe prepare themselues to sing The sundry foraine Fields the English-men had sought. Which when the Mountaines sawe (and not in vaine) they thought That if they still went on as thus they had begon, Then from the Cambrian Nymphs (sure) Lundy would be won. And therefore from their first they challeng'd them to flie; And (idly running on with vaine prolixitie) A larger subiect tooke then it was fit they should.

But, whilst those would proceed, these threatning them to hold, a 1.306 Black-Mountaine for the loue he to his Country bare, As to the beautious Vske, his ioy and onely care (In whose defence t'appeare more sterne and full of dread) Put on a Helme of clowds vpon his rugged head. Mounchdeny doth the like for his beloued Tawe: VVhich quicklie all the rest by their example drawe: As Hatterell in the right of ancient Wales will stand. To these three Mountaines, first of the Erekinnian Band, The Monumethian Hills, like insolentand stout, On loftie tip-toes then began to looke about; That Skeridvaur at last (a Mountaine much in might, In hunting that had set his absolute delight) Caught vp his a 1.307 Country Hooke; nor cares for future harmes, But irefully enrag'd, would needs to open Armes: Which quicklie put b 1.308 Penvayle in such outrageous heat, That whilst for verie teene his hairelesse scalpe doth sweat, The Blorench looketh bigge vpon his bared crowne: And tall Tomberlow seemes so terribly to frowne, That where it was suppos'd with small adoe or none Th'event of this debate would easely haue beer known, Such strange tumultuous stirres vpon this strife ensue, As where all griefes should end, old sorrowes still renue: That Severne thus fore warn'd to looke vnto the worst (And findes the latter ill more dangerous then the first) The doome she should pronounce, yet for a while delay'd, Till these rebellious routs by iustice might be stay'd,

A period that she put to my Discourse so long, To finish this debate the next ensuing Song.

Illustrations.

OVer Seuerne (but visiting Lundey, a little Ile twixt Hartland and Gouen point) you are transported into Wales. Your trauels with the Muse are most of all in Monmouth, Glamorgan, and the South maritime shires.

And wantonly to hatch the Birds of Ganymed.

Walter Baker a Canon of Osney (interpreter of Thomas de la Moores life of Edward the 11.) affirmes, that it commonly breedes Conies, Pigeons, & struco∣nas, quos vocat Alexander Nechamus (so you must read, a 1.309 not Nechristum, as the Francfort print senselesly mistooke with Conday, for Lundey) Ganymedis aues. What he meanes by his Birds of Ganymed, out of the name, vnlesse Eagles or Ostriches (as the common fiction of the Catamits rauishment, and this French Latine word of the Translator would) I collect not. But rather read also Pala∣medis aues. 1. Cranes) of which b 1.310 Necham indeed hath a whole Chapter: what the other should be, or whence reason of the name comes, I confesse I am ignorant.

Cleare Towridge whom they feard would haue estrang'd her fall.

For she rising neere Hortland, wantonly runnes to Hatberlay in Denon, as if she would to the Southerne Ocean; but returniug, there at last is discharged into the Seuerne Sea.

Yet hardly vpon Powse they dare their hopes to lay.

Wales had 'her three parts, Northwales, Southwales, and Powis. The last, as the middle twixt the other, extended from Cardigan to Shropshire; and on the Eng∣lish * 1.311 side from Chester to Hereford (being the portion of Anarawd, sonne to great Roderique) beares this accusation, because it comprehends, for the most, * 1.312 both Nations and both tongues. But see for this diuision to the VII. Song.

Nor Rosse for that too much she aliens doth respect.

Vnder Henry I a Colony of Flemings driuen out of their country by inunda∣tion, and kindly receiued here in respect of that alliance which the K. had with their Earle (for his mother Maude wife to the Conqueror, was daughter to Baldwin Earle of Flanders) afterward vpon difference twixt the K. and Earle Ro∣bert, were out of diuers parts, but especially Northumberland, where they most of all (as it seemes by Houeden) had residence, constrained into Rosse * 1.313 in Pen∣broke, which retaines yet in name and tongue expresse notes of being aliens to the Cambro-Britains. See the Author in his next Song.

That Taliessen once which made the Riuers dance.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 (not Telesin, as Bale cals him) a learned Bard, stiled d 1.314 Ben Beirdh. i. the chiefest of the Bards, Master to Merlin Syluester, liued about Arthurs reigne, whose acts his Muse hath celebrated.

With Lhu and Lhogor giuen, to strengthen them by Gower.

Twixt Neth and Lhogor in Glamorgan is this Gower, a little prouince, exten∣ded into the Sea as a Cherronesse; out of it on the West, rise these two Riuers meant by the Author.

That at the Stethua oft obtaind a Victors praise.

Vnderstand this Stethua to be the meeting of the British Poets and Min∣strels, for tryall a 1.315 of their Poems and Musique sufficiencies, where the best had his reward, a Siluer Harpe. Some example is of it vnder Rees ap Griffith. Prince of Southwales, in the yeare 〈◊〉〈◊〉. C. LXX. VI. A custome so good, that, had it beene iudiciously obserued, truth of Storie had not beene so vncertain: for there was, by suppose, a correction of what was faulty in forme or matter or at least a cen∣sure of the hearers vpon what was recited. As (according to the Roman vse; it is a 1.316 noted, that Girald of Cambria, when he had written his Topography of Ireland; made at three seuerall dayes seuerall recitals of his III. distinctions in Oxford; of which course some haue wisht a recontinuance, that eyther amendment of opinion or change of purpose in publishing, might preuent blazoned errors. The sorts of these Poets and Minstrels out of Doctor Powels interserted anno∣tations vpon Caradoc Lhancaruan, I note to you; first Beirdhs, otherwise Pryd∣uids (called in Athenaus, Lucan & others, Bards) who, somwhat like the 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 among the Gresks, * 1.317 fortia 〈◊〉〈◊〉, illustrium facta heroicis composita versibus cum dulcibus lyrae modulis c 1.318 cantitarunt, which was the chiefest forme of the an∣cientest musique among the Gentiles, as d 1.319 Zarlino hath fully collected. Their charge also as Heraults, was to describe and preserue pedegrees, wherein their line ascendent went from the Petruccius to B. M. thence to Syluius and Asca∣nius, from them to Adam. Thus Girald reporting, hath his B. M. in some co∣pies by e 1.320 transcription of ignorant Monkes (forgetting their tenent of perpe∣tuall virginity, and f 1.321 that relation of 〈◊〉〈◊〉) turned into * 1.322 Beatam Mariam, whereas it stands for Belinum Magnum (that was Heli, in their writers, father to Lud and Cassibelin) to whom their genealogies had alwayes reference. The se∣cond are which play on the Harp and Crowd; their musique for the most part came out of Ireland with Gruffish ap Conan Pr. of Northwales, about K. Stephens time. This Gruffith reformed the abuses of those Minstrels by a particular sta∣tut, extant to this day. The third are called Atcaneaid; they sing to instru∣ments playd on by others. For the Englyns, Cyrohs and Ardls; the first are couplets interchanged of XVI. & XIIII. feet calld 〈◊〉〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the second of equall tetrameters, the third of variety in both rime and quantity. Subdiuision of them, and better information may be had in the elaborat insti∣tutions of the Cumraeg language by Dauid ap Rees. Of their musique an∣ciently, out of an old writer read this: Non vniformiter, vt alibi, sed multipliciter multis{que} modis & modulis cantilen as emittunt, adeo vt, turbâ canentium, quot vide∣as capitatot audias carmina, discrimina{que} vocum varia, in vnam deni{que} sub B. mol∣lis dulcedine blanda, consonantiam & 〈◊〉〈◊〉 conuenientia melodiam. A good Musician will better vnderstand it, then I that transcribe it. But by it you see they especially affected the mind composing Dorique (which is shewed in that of an old g 1.323 author, affirming that * 1.324 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 the Western people of the world constituted vse of musique in their assemblies, thought the h 1.325 Irish (from whence they learned) were wholly for the sprightfull Phrygian. See the next Canto.

And humbly to S. George their Countries Patron pray.

Out Author (a iudgement day thus appointed twixt the Water-Nymphs) seemes to allude to the course vs'd of old with vs, that those which were to end their cause by combat, were sent to seuerall Saints for inuocation, as in our i 1.326 Law-annals appeares. For * 1.327 S. George, that he is patron to the English, as S. De∣nis, S. Iames, S. Patrique, S. Andrew, S. Antony, S. Mark, to the French, Spanish, I∣rish, Scotish, Italian, Venetian, Scarce any is, that knows not. Who he was & when the English tooke him, is not so manifest. The old Martyrologies giue, with vs, to the honor of his birth the XXIII. of April. His passion is supposed in Diocletian's persecution. His country Cappadoce. His acts are diuers and strange, re∣ported by his seruant Pasicrates, Simeon Metaphrastes, and lately collected by Surius. As for his Knightly forme, and the dragon vnder him, as he is pictured in Beryth a Citie of Cyprus, with a yong maide kneeling to him, an vnwarranta∣ble report goes that it was for his martiall deliuery of the Kings daughter from the Dragon, as Hesione and Andromeda were from the Whales by Hercules and Perseus. Your more neat iudgements, finding no such matter in true antiquity, rather make it symbolicall then truely proper. So that some account him an allegory of our Sauiour Christ; and our admired k 1.328 Spencer hath made him an embleme of Religion. So Chaucer to the Knights of that order.

—but for Gods pleasance
And his mother, and in signifiance
That ye ben of S. Georges liuerie
Doeth him seruice and knightly obeisance
For Christs cause is his, well knowen yee.
Others interpret that picture of him as some country or Citie (signified by the Virgin) imploring his aide against the Diuell, charactered in the Dragon. Of him you may particularly see, especially in Vsuards martyrologie, and Baronius his annotations vpon the Roman Calendar, with Erhard Celly his description of Frederique Duke of Wittembergs installation in the Garter, by fauour of our present Soueraigne. But what is deliuered of him in the Legend, euen the Church of Rome l 1.329 hath disallowed in these words; That not so made as any scan∣dali may rise in the holy Roman Church, the passions of S. George, and such like, supposed to be written by heretiques, are not read in it. But you may better beleeue the Legend, then that he was a Couentry man borne, with his Caleb Lady of the woods, or that he descended from the Saxon race, and such like; which some English fictions deliuer. His name (as generally m 1.330 also S. Maurice and S. Sebasti∣an) was anciently cald on by Christians as an aduocat of victory (when in the Church that kind of doctrine was) so that our particular right to him (although they say n 1.331 K. Arthur bare him in one of his Banners) appeares not vntill Ed. III. consecrated to S. George the Knightly order of the Garter, o 1.332 soone after the victory at Caleis against the French, in which his inuocatiō was Ha S. Ha S. 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Ha S. George. Some authority p 1.333 referres this to Richard Ceur de Lion, who sup∣pos'd himselfe comforted by S. George in his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 against the Turkes and Ha∣garens. But howsoeuer, since that he hath beene a Patron among others, as in m 1.334 of Frederique the thirds institution q 1.335 of the quadripartit society of S. Georges shield, and more of that nature, you finde. And vnder Hen. VII I. it was enacted, r 1.336 that the Irish should leaue their Cramabw and Butlcrabw, words of vnlawfull * 1.337 patronage, and name themselues as vnder S. George, and the King of England. More proper is S. Dewy (we call him S. Dauid) to the Welsh. Reports of him af∣firm that he was of that country, vncle to K. Arthur (Bale and others say, gotten vpon Melaria a Nunne, by Xantus Prince of Cardigan) and successor to Dubrice

Archbishop of Caer-leon vpon Vske (whereto a 1.338 along time the British Bishop riques as to their Metropolitique See were subiect) and thence translated with his nephewes consent the Primacie to Meneuia, which is now S. Deuies in Penbroke. He was a strong oppugner of the Pelagian heresie. To him our country Calendars giue the 1. March, but in the old Martyrologies I finde him not remembred: yet I read that b 1.339 Calixtus 11. first canonized him. See him in the next Canto.

The sacred Virgins shape he bare for his deuice.

Arthurs c 1.340 shield Pridwen (or his Banner) had in it the picture of our Lady and his Helme an ingrauen Dragon. From the like forme was his father called V∣ter-pen-dragon. To haue terrible crests or ingrauen beasts of rapine (Herodotus and Strabo fetch the beginning of them, and the bearing of armes from the Ca∣rians) hath been from inmost antiquity continued; as appeares in that Epithet of 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, proper to Minerua, but applyed to others in Aristophanes, and also d 1.341 in the Theban warre. Either hence may you deriue the English Dragon now as a supporter, and vsually pitcht in fields by the Saxon, English, and Norman Kings for their Standard (which is frequent in Houeden, Matthew Paris, and Florilegus) or from the Romanes, who after the Minotaure, Horse, Eagle, and o∣ther their antique ensignes tooke this beast; or else imagine that our Kings ioy∣ned in that generall consent, whereby so many nations bare it. For by plaine and good authority, collected by a great critique, you may finde it affirm'd of * 1.342 the Assyrians, Indians, Scythians, Persians, Dacians, Romanes; and of the Greekes too for their shields, and otherwise: wherin Lipsius vniustly findes fault with I∣sidore, but forgets that in a number of Greeke f 1.343 authors is copious witnes of as¦much.

They sing how he himselfe at Badon bare the day.

That is Baunsedowne in Somerset (not Blackmore in Yorkeshire, as Polydore mis∣takes) as is expresly proued out of a ms. Gildas g 1.344, different from that published by Iosselin.

That Scarcely there was found a country to the pole.

Some, too hyperbolique, stories make him a large conqueror on euery ad∣iacent country, as the Muse recites: and his seale, which Leland sayes he saw, in Westminster Abbey, of redde wax pictur'd with a Mound, bearing a crosse in his left hand (which was first h 1.345 Iustinians deuice; and surely, in later time, with the seale counterfeited and applied to Arthur: no King of this Land, except the Confessor, before the Conquest i 1.346 euer vsing in their Charters more then subscription of name and crosses) and a Scepter fleury in his right, cals him * 1.347 Bri∣tanniae, Galliae, Germaniae, Daciae Imperator. The Bards songs haue, with this kind of vnlimited attribut so loaden him, that you can hardly guesse what is true of him. Such indulgence to fals report hath wrong'd many Worthies, and among them euen that great Alexander in prodigious suppositions (like Stichus k 1.348 his Geography, laying Pontus in Arabia) as Strabo often complains; & some idle Monke of middle time is so impudent to affirme, that at Babylon hee erected a columne, inscribed with Latine and Greeke verses, as notes of his victory; of them you shall tast in these two:
Anglicus & Scotus Britonum super{que} caterua
Irlandus, Flander, Cornwallis, & quo{que} Norguey.

Onely but that Alexander and his followers were no good Latinists (Wherein, when you haue done laughing, you may wonder at the decorum) I should cen∣sure my lubberly versifier to no lesse punishment then 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his excoriati∣on. But for Artbur, you shall best know him in this elogie. This is that Arthur of whom the Brittons euen to this day speake so idly; a man right worthy to haue been celebrated by true storie, not false tales, seeing it was he that long time vpheld his de∣clining country and euen inspired martiall courage into his country men; as the Monke of Malmesbury, of him: * 1.349

The Pentecost prepar'd at Caer-leon in his Court.

At Caer-leon in Monmouth, after his victories, a pompeous celebration was at Whitsontide, whether were inuited diuers Kings and Princes of the neigh∣bouring coasts; he with them, and his Queene Guineuer, with the Ladies kee∣ping those solemnities in their seuerall conclaues. For so the British storie makes it according to the Troian custome, that in festiuall solemnities, both sexes should not sit together. Of the Trotans I remember no warrant for it: but among the Greekes one Sphyromachus a 1.350 first instituted it. Torneaments and jousts were their exercises, nor vouchsafed any Lady to bestow her fauour on him, which had not beene thrice crown'd with fame of martiall performance. For this order (which herein is delineated) know, that the old Gaules (whose customes and the British were neere the same) had their Orbicular tables to a∣uoyd controuersie of presedency (a forme much commended by a late b 1.351 wri∣ter for the like distance of all from the Salt, being center, first, and last of the furniture) and at them euery Knight attended by his Esquire (* 1.352 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 c 1.353 cals them) holding his shield. Of the like in Hen. III. Matthew Paris, of Mortimers at Kelingworth, vnder Ed. I. and that of Windsor, celebrated by Edw. III. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 speakes. Of the Arthurian our Histories haue scarce mention. But 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Architrenius, Robert of Glocester, Iohn Lidgat Monke of Bury, and English rimes in diuers hands sing it. It is remembred by Leland, Camden, Volateran, Philip of Bergomo, Lily, Aubert 〈◊〉〈◊〉, others, but very diuersly. White of Basingstoke defends it, and imagines the originall from an election by Arthur and Howell K. of Armorique 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of six of each of their worthiest Peeres to be alwayes assistant in counsell. The antiquity of the Earledome of d 1.354 Mansfeld in old Saxony is hence affirmed, because Heger Earle thereof was honored in Arthurs Court with this order; places of name for residence of him and his Knights were this Caer-leon, Winchester (where his Table is yet sup∣pos'd to be, but that seemes of later date) and Camelot in Somerset. Some put his number XII. I haue seene them anciently pictur'd XXIV. in a Poeticall sto∣rie of him; and in Denbighshire, Stow tels vs. in the parish of Lansannan on the side of a stonie hill is a circular plaine, cut out of a maine rocke, with some XXIV. seats vnequall, which they call Arthurs Round Table. Some Catalogues of armes haue the coats of the Knights, blazoned; but I thinke with as good warrant as e 1.355 Rablais can 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that Sir Lanceiot du Lac rostes horses in hell, and that * 1.356 Tous les cheualiers de la Table ronde estotent poures gaigne-denters tirans la rame pur passer les riuers 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Coccyte, Phlegeton, Styx, Acheron, & Lethe quand Messieurs les diables se veulent esbatre sur 〈◊〉〈◊〉 come font les Basteliers de Lyon et gondoliers de Venise. Mais pour chacune passade 〈◊〉〈◊〉 n' ont qu'un Nazarde & sur le soir quelque morceau de pain chaumeny. Of them, their number, exploits, and prodigious performances you may read Caxtons published volume, digested by him into XXI. bookes, out of diuers French and Italian fables. From such I abstaine, as I may.

And for Caermardhin's Sake—

Two b 1.357 Merlins haue our stories: One of Scotland commonly titled Syluester, or Caledonius liuing vnder Arthur; the other Ambrosius (of whom before) borne of a Nunne (daughter to the K. of Southwales) in Caermardhin, not na∣ming the place (for rather in British his name is Merdhin) but the place (which in Ptolemy is Maridunum) naming him; begotten, as the vulgar, by an Incubus. For his buriall (in supposition as vncertaine as his birth, actions, and all of those too fabulously mixt stories) and his Lady of the Lake it is by liberty of profes∣sion laide in France by that Italian c 1.358 Ariosto: which perhaps is as credible as som more of his attributes, seeing no perswading authority, in any of them, re∣ctifies the vncertainty. But for his birth see the next Song, and, to it, more.

Tuisco Gomers sonne from vnbuilt Babel brought.

According to the d 1.359 text, the Iews affirm that All the sonnes of Noah were dispersed through the earth, and euery ones name left to the land which he possessed. Vpon this tradition, and false Berosus testimony, it is affirmed that Tuisco (sonne of Noah, gotten with others after the e 1.360 floud vpon his wife Arezia) tooke to his part the coast about Rhine, and that thence came the name of Teutschland and Teutsch, which we call Dutch, through Germany. f 1.361 Som make him the same with Gomer, eldest sonne to Iaphet (by whom these parts of Europe were peo∣pled) out of notation of his name, deriuing Tutscon or Tuiston (for so Tacitus calls him) from The hoodt Lon. i. the eldest sonne. Others (as the author here) suppose him sonne to Gomer, and take g 1.362 him for Aschenaz (remembred by Moses as first sonne to Gomer, and from whom the Hebrewes call the Germans h 1.363 Aschenazim) whose reliques probably indeed seeme to be in Tuisco, which hath beene made of Aschen either by the Dutch prepositiue article Die or lie, as our the (according to Derceto for i 1.364 Atergatis, which should be Adargadain Ctesias; and Danubius for Adubenus in Festus, perhaps therein corrupted, as Ioseph Scaliger obserues; as Theudibald for Ildibald in Procopius, and Diceneus for Ceneus among the Getes) or through mistaking of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the He∣brew, asin Rhodanim, for k 1.365, being Dodanim, and in Chalibes and Alybes for Thalybes from Tubal by taking 〈◊〉〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉〈◊〉; for in ruder manuscripts by an im∣perfect Reader, the first mistaking might be as soone as the rest. I coniecture it the rather, for that in most Histories diuersity with affinity twixt the same∣meant proper names (especially Easterne as this was) is ordinary; as Megaby∣zus in Ctesias is Bacabajus in Iustin, who cals Aaron, Aruas, and Herodotus his Smerdis, Mergidis, Asarhadon, Coras and Esther in the Scriptures are thus Sar∣danapalus, Cyrus, & Amestris in the Greek stories, Eporedorix, Ambiorix, Arirai∣nius, in Casar and Sueton, supposed to haue beene Frederique, Henry, Herman: diuers like examples occurre; and in comparison of Arrian with Q. Curtius very many; like as also in the life of S. Iohn the Euangelist, anciently l 1.366 written in Arabique you haue Asubasianuusu, Thithimse, Damthianuusu for Vespasian, Ti∣tus, Domitian, and in our stories Androgeus for Caesars Mandubratsus. From Tutsco is our name of Tuesday; and in that too, taking the place of Mars (the most fiery Starre, and obserue withall that against the vulgar opinion the pla∣netary account of dayes is very m 1.367 ancient) discouers affinity with Aschenaz, in whose notation (as n 1.368 some body obserues) V R signifies fire.

They Saxons first were call'd—

So a Latine rimein a 1.369 Engelhuse also;

Quippe breuis gladius apudillos Saxa vocatur, Vnde sibi Saxo nomen traxisse putatur.

Although from the Sacans or Sagans a populous nation in Asia (which were al∣so Scythians, and of whom an old b 1.370 Poet, as most others in their Epithets and passages of the Scythyans,
* 1.371 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
A faculty for which the English haue had no small honor in their later warres with the French) both Goropius with long argument in his Becceselana, our iudi∣cious Camden and others will haue them, as it were, Sacat's-sonnes. According hereto is that name of c 1.372 Sacasena, which a colony of them gaue to part of Arme∣nia and the d 1.373 Sasones in Scythia on this side of Imaus. Howsoeuer, the Authors conceit thus chosen is very apt, nor disagreeing to this other, in that some com∣munity was twixt the name of Sacae or Sagae, and a certaine sharp weapon called Sagaris, vsed by the Amazons, Sacans, and Persians, as the Greeke e 1.374 stories in∣forme vs.

The Britains here allur'd to call them to their aide.

Most suppose them sent to by the Britons much subiect to the irruptions of Picts and Scots, and so inuited hither for aide: but the stories of Gildas and Nennius haue no such thing, but onely that there landed of them (as banished their country, which Geffrey of Monmouth expresses also) III. long boates in * 1.375 Kent with Horse and Hengist Captaines. They afterward were most willingly requested to multiply their number by sending for more of their country men to helpe K. Vortigern, and vnder that colour, and by Ronix (daughter to Hen∣gist, and wife to Vortigern) her womanish subtilty, in greater number were here planted. Of this, more large in euery common storie. But to beleeue their first arriuall rather for new place of habitation, then vpon embassage of the Britons, I am perswaded by this, that f 1.376 among the Cimbrians, Gaules, Gothes, Dacians, Scythians, and especially the Sacans (if Strabo deceiue not; from whom our Saxons) with other Northerne people, it was a custome vpon nume∣rous abundance to transplant colonies: from which vse the Parthians (sent out of Scythia, as the Romans did their g 1.377 Ver Sacrum) retaine that name, signifying banished (sayes Trogus;) not vnlikely, from the Hebrew Paratz, h 1.378 which is to separat, and also to multiplie in this kind of propagation, as it is vsed in the pro∣mise to Abraham, and in Isay's consolation to the Church. Here being the maine change of the British name and State, a word or two of the time and yeare is not vntimely. Most put it vnder CD. XL. IX. (according to Bedes copies and their followers) or CD. L. of Christ; wheras indeed by apparant proofe it was in CD. XXVIII. and the IV. of Valentinian the Emperor. So Prise and Camden (out of an old fragment annexed to Nennius) and, before them, the author of Fa∣sciculus Temporum haue placed it. The errour I imagine to be from restoring of wooren out times in Bede and others, by those which fell into the same error with Florence of Worcester and Marian the Scot, who begin the receiued Chri∣stian accompt but XII. yeares before the Passion, thereby omitting XXII. For although Marians published Chronicle (which is but i 1.379 a defloration by Robert of Lorraine Bishop of Hereford vnder Hen. I. and an Epitome of Marian) goes neere from the ordinary time of Incarnation vnder Augustus, yet he layes it al∣so,

according to the Roman Abbot 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the XXIII. yeare following, which was rather by taking aduantage of Dionysius his error then following his * 1.380 opinion. For when he (about Iustinians time) made 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Period of D. XXXII. yeares of the golden number and cycle of the Sunne multiplied, it fell out so in his computation that the XV. Moone following the Iewes Passeouer, the Dominicall letter, Friday, and other concurrents according to Ecclesiasticall tradition supposed for the Passion could not be but in the b 1.381 XII, yeare after his birth (a lapse by himselfe much 〈◊〉〈◊〉) and then supposing Christ liued XXXIV. yeares, XXII. must needes be omitted; a collection directly against his meaning; hauing only forgotten to fit those concurrents. This accompt (in it selfe, and by the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 purpose, as our vulgar is now, but with some little difference) erroniously followed, I coniecture, made them, which too much desired 〈◊〉〈◊〉, adde the supposed Euangelicall XXII. yeares to such times as were before true; & so came CCCC. XXVIII. to be CCCC. XL. IX. & CCCC. L. which White of Basing stoke (although ayming to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉) vniustly followes. Subtraction of this number, and, in some, addition (of addition you shall haue perhaps example in amendment of the C. L. VI. yeare for K. Lucius his letters to PP. Eleutherius) will rectifie many grosse absurdities in our Chronologies, which are by transcribing, interpolation, misprinting and creeping in of anti∣chronismes now and then strangely disordered.

To get their seat in Gaule which on Nuestria light. And a little after, Call'd Northmen from the North of Germany that came.

What is now 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉, in some, stil'd Neustria and Nuestria corruptly, as most think, for Westria, that is 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the west Kingdome (confined anci∣ently twixt the Mense and the Loire) in respect of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉. the East Kingdome, now Lorraine, vpon such reason as the Archdukedome hath * 1.382 his name at this day. Rollo sonne of a Danish Potentate, accompanied with diuers Danes, Norwegians, Scythians, Gothes, and a supplement of English, which he had of K. Athelstan, about the yeare D. CCCC. made transmigration into France, and there, after some martiall discords, honored in holy tincture of Christianity with the name of Robert, receiued c 1.383 of Charles the Simple with his daughter (or sister) Gilla this Tract as her dower, contayning (as before) more then Normandy. It is d 1.384 reported, that when the Bishops at this donation requi∣red him to kisse the Kings foote for homage, after scornefull refusall, he com∣manded one of his Knights to do it; the Knight tooke vp the Kings legge, and in strayning it to his mouth, ouerturned him; yet nothing but honourable re∣spect followed on eyther part.

That as the Conquerors bloud did to the conquered runne.

Our Author makes the Norman inuasion a reuniting of seuered kindred, ra∣ther then a conquest by a meere stranger, taking argument as well from identi∣tie of countryship (being all Germans by originall, and the people of e 1.385 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Chersonesus, now Danmarch, anciently called Saxons) as from contingen∣cie of blood twixt the Engle-Saxon Kings, & the Norman Dukes thus expressed.

[illustration]

* 1.386

Obiect not that Duke Robert got the Conqueror vpon Arletta (from whom perhaps came our name of Harlot) his Concubine, nor that a 1.387 Consanguinitatis & adgnationis iura à patre tantum & legitimis 〈◊〉〈◊〉 oriuntur, as the Ciuill Law, and vpon the matter the English also defines; but rather allow it by law of Nature and Nobility, which iustifies the bastards bearing of his fathers coat, distinguisht with a Bend sinifter: Nicholas Vpton calsit * 1.388 Fissura, eò quod finditur à patriâ haereditate; which is but his conceit: and read Heuters tract de liberâ ho∣minis natiuitate, where you shall finde a kind of legitimation of that now dis∣gracefull name Bastard; which in more antique times was, as a proud title, in∣serted in the stile of great and most honorable Princes. Pretending this con∣sanguinity, S. Edward's adoption, and K. Harolds oth, aided by successfull armes the Norman acquired the English Crowne; although William of b 1.389 Poiters af∣firmes, that on his death-bed he made protestation, that his right was not here∣ditary, but by effusion of bloud, and losse of many liues.

Who him a daughter brought, which heauen did strangely spare.

After composition of French troubles Hen. I. returning into England, the Ship, wherein his sonnes William and Richard were, twixt Barbefleu and South∣hampton was cast away, so that heauen onely spared him this issue Maude the * 1.390 Empresse, married, at last, to Geffrey Plantagenest Earle of Aniou, from whom in a continued race through Hen. II. (sonne to this Maude) vntill Rich. III. that most Noble surname possessed the royall Throne of England.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The fift Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

In this Song, Severne giues the doome What of her Lundy should become. And whilst the nimble Cambrian Rills Daunce Hy-day-gies amongst the Hills, The Muse them to Carmarden brings; Where Merlins wondrous birth shee sings. From thence to Penbrooke shee doth make, To see how Milford state doth take: The scattered Ilands there doth tell: And, visiting Saint Dauids Cell, Doth sport her all the shores along, Preparing the ensuing Song.

NOw Sabrine, as a Queene, miraculouslie faire, Is absolutelie plac't in her Emperiall Chaire Of Crystall richlie wrought, that gloriously did shine, Her Grace becomming well, a creature so Divine: And as her God-like selfe, so glorious was her Throne, In which himselfe to sit great Neptune had been known; Whereon there were ingrau'd those Nymphs the God had vvoo'd, And euery seuerall shape wherein for loue he su'd; Each daughter, her estate and beautie, euery sonne; What Nations he had rul'd, what Countries he had wonne. No Fish in this wide waste but with exceeding cost Was there in Antique worke most curiously imbost. Shee, in a watchet vveed, with manie a curious waue, Which as a princelie gift great Amphitrite gaue; Whose skirts were to the knee, with Corall fring'd belowe To grace her goodly steppes. And where she meant to goe, The path was strew'd with Pearle: which though they Orient were, Yet scarce knowne from her feet, they were so wondrous cleere: To whom the Mermaids hold her Glasse, that she may see Before all other Floods how farre her beauties bee:

VVho was by Nereus taught, the most profoundly wise, That learned her the skill of hidden Prophecies, By Thetis speciall care; as a 1.391 Chiron earst had done To that proud bane of Troy, her god-resembling sonne. For her wise censure now, whilst euerie listning Flood (When reason some-what coold their late distempred mood) Inclosed Seuerne in; before this mightie rout, Shee sitting well prepar'd, with countenance graue and stout, Like some great learned Iudge, to end a waightie Cause, Well furnisht with the force of Arguments and Lawes, And euerie speciall proofe that iustlie may be brought; Now with a constant brow, a firme and setled thought, And at the point to giue the last and finall doome: The people crowding neere within the pestred roome, A slowe, soft murmuring moues amongst the wondring throng, As though with open eares they would deuoure his tongue: So Seuerne bare her selfe, and silence so she wanne, When to th'assembly thus shee seriouslie began;

My neere and loued Nymphs, good hap yee both betide: Well Britans haue yee sung; you English, well repli'd: Which to succeeding times shall memorize your stories To either Countries praise, as both your endlesse glories. And from your listning eares, sith vaine it were to hold VVhat all-appointing Heauen will plainlie shall be told, Both gladlie be you pleas'd: for thus the Powers reueale, That when the Norman Line in strength shall lastlie faile (Fate limiting the time) th'ancient Britan race Shall come againe to sit vpon the soueraigne place. A branch sprung out of Brute, th'imperiall top shall get, Which grafted in the stock of great Plantaginet, The Stem shall strongly wax, as still the Trunk doth wither: That power which bare it thence, againe shall bring it thither By Tudor, with faire winds from little Britaine driuen, § To whom the goodlie Bay of Milford shall be giuen; As thy wise Prophets, Wales, fore-told his wisht arriue, § And how Lewellins Line in him should doubly thriue. For from his issue sent to Albany before, Where his neglected blood, his vertue did restore, Hee first vnto himselfe in faire succession gain'd The Stewards nobler name; and afterward attain'd The royall Scottish wreath, vpholding it in state. This Stem, to b 1.392 Tuders ioyn'd (which thing all-powerfull Fate So happily produc't out of that prosperous Bed, Whose mariages conioynd the White-rose and the Red) Suppressing euery Plant, shall spred it selfe so wide, As in his armes shall clip the Ile on euery side.

By whom three seuer'd Realmes in one shall firmlie stand, As Britain-founding Brute first Monarchiz'd the Land: And Cornwall, for that thou no longer shalt contend, But to old Cambria cleaue, as to thy ancient friend, Acknowledge thou thy Brood, of Brutes high blood to bee; And what hath hapt to her, the like t'haue 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to thee; The Britains to receiue, when Heauen on them did lowre, Loegria forc't to leaue; who from the Saxons powre Themselues in Deserts, Creeks, and Mount'nous wasts bestow'd, Or where the fruitlesse Rocks could promise them 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Why striue yee then for that, in little time that shall (As you are all made one) be one vnto you all; Then take my finall doome pronounced lastlie, this; That Lundy like ally'd to Wales and England is.

Each part most highlie pleas'd, then vp the Session brake: When to the learned Maids againe Invention spake; O yee Pegasian Nymphs, that hating viler things; Delight in loftie Hills, and in delicious Springs, That on Piërus borne, and named of the place, The Thracian Pimpla loue, and Pindus often grace; * 1.393 In Aganippas Fount, and in Castalia's brims, That often haue been known to bathe your crystall lims, Conduct me through these Brooks, and with a fastned clue, Direct mee in my course, to take a perfect view Of all the wandring Streames, in whose entransing gyres, Wise Nature oft herselfe her workmanship admires (So manifold they are, with such Meanders wound, As may with wonder seeme invention to confound) That to those British names, vntaught the eare to please, Such relish I may giue in my delicious layes, That all the armed Orks of Neptunes grislie Band, VVith musick of my verse, amaz'd may listning stand; As when his Trytons trumps doe them to battell call Within his surging lists to combat with the Whale.

Thus, haue we ouer-gone the Glamorganian Gowre, VVhose Promontorie (plac't to check the Oceans powre) Kept Severne yet her selfe, till beeing growne too great, Shee with extended armes vnbounds her ancient seat: * 1.394 And turning lastlie Sea, resignes vnto the Maine VVhat soueraigntie her selfe but latelie did retaine. Next, Loghor leads the way, who with a lustie crue (Her wild and wandring steps that ceaseleslie pursue) Still forward is inforc't: as, Amond thrusts her on, And Morlas (as a may d shee much relies vpon) Intreats her present speed; assuring her withall, Her best-beloued Ile, Bachannis, for her fall,

Stands specially prepar'd, of euery thing suppli'd.

When Guendra with such grace deliberatly doth glide As Tovy doth entice: who setteth out prepar'd At all points like a Prince, attended with a Guard: Of which, as by her name, the neer'st to her of kin Is Toothy, tripping downe from Verwins rushie a 1.395 Lin, Through Rescob running out, with Pescouer to meet Those Rills that Forest loues; and doth so kindly greet, As to intreat their stay shee gladlie would preuaile. Then Tranant nicelie treads vpon the watry traile: The liuelie skipping Brane, along with Gwethrick goes; In Tovies wandring banks themselues that scarcely lose, But Mudny, with Cledaugh, and Sawthy, soone resort, Which at Langaddock grace their Soueraignes watry Court.

As when the seruile world some gathering man espies, Whose thriuing fortune showes, he to much wealth may rise, And through his Princes grace his followers may preferre, Or by reuenew left by some dead Ancester; All lowting lowe to him, him humbly they obserue, And happy is that man his nod that may deserue: To Tovy so they stoupe, to them vpon the way Which thus displaies the Spring within their view that lay.

Neere Deneuoir, the seat of the * 1.396 Demetian King Whilst Cambria was herselfe, full, strong, and florishing, There is a pleasant Spring, b 1.397 that constant doth abide Hard-by these winding shores wherein wee nimblie slide; Long of the Ocean lov'd, since his victorious hand First proudlie did insult vpon the conquer'd Land. And though a hundred Nymphs in faire Demetia bee, Whose features might allure the Sea-gods more then shee, His fancie takes her forme, and her he onelie likes (Who ere knew halfe the shafts where-with blind Cupid strikes?) Which great and constant faith, shew'd by the God of Sea, This cleere and louelie Nymph so kindlie doth repay, As suffring for his sake what loue to Louer owes, With him she sadlie ebbs, with him she proudlie flowes, To him her secret vowes perpetually doth keepe, Obseruing euerie Lawe and custome of the Deepe.

Now Tovy towa'rd her fall (Langaddock ouer-gon) Her Dulas forward driues: and Cothy comming on The traine to ouer-take, the neerest way doth cast Ere shee Carmarden get: where Gwilly, making hast, Bright Tovy entertaines at that most famous Towne Which her great Prophet bred who Wales doth so renowne: And taking her a Harpe, and tuning well the strings, To Princely Tovy thus shee of the Prophet sings;

Of Merlin and his skill what Region doth not heare? The world shall still be full of Merlin euerie where. * 1.398 A thousand lingering yeeres his prophecies haue runne, And scarcely shall haue end till Time it selfe be done: Who of a British Nymph was gotten, whilst shee plaid With a seducing Spirit, which wonne the goodlie maid; (As all Demetia through, there was not found her peere) Who, be'ing so much renown'd for beautie farre and neere, Great Lords her liking sought, but still in vaine they prov'd: § That Spirit (to her vnknowne) this Virgin onelie lov'd; Which taking humane shape, of such perfection seemd, As (all her Suters scorn'd) shee onelie him esteem'd. Who, fayning for her sake that he was come from farre, And richlie could endow (a lustie Batcheler) On her that Prophet got, which from his Mothers wombe Of things to come fore-told vntill the generall Doome.

But, of his fayned birth in sporting idlie thus, Suspect mee not, that I this dreamed Incubus By strange opinions should licentiouslie subsist; Or, selfe-conceited, play the humorous Platonist, Which boldlie dares affirme, that Spirits, themselues supply With bodies, to commix with fraile mortalitie, And heere allow them place, beneath this lower Sphere Of the vnconstant Moone; to tempt vs dailie here. Some, earthly mixture take; as others, which aspire, Them subt'ler shapes resume, of water, ayre, and fire, Being those immortalls long before the heauen, that fell, VVhose depriuation thence, determined their hell: And loosing through their pride that place to them assign'd, Predestined that was to mans regenerate kind, They, for th'inveterate hate to his Election, still Desist not him to tempt to euery damned ill And to seduce the spirit, oft prompt the frailer blood, Invegling it with tastes of counterfetted good, And teach it all the sleights the Soule that may excite To yeeld vp all her power vnto the appetite. And to those curious wits if we our selues apply, VVhich search the gloomie shades of deepe Philosophy, They Reason so will clothe, as well the mind can show, That contrarie effects, from contraries may grow; And that the soule a shape so stronglie may conceat, As to her selfe the-while may seeme it to creat; By which th'abused Sense more easelie oft is led To thinke that it enioyes the thing imagined.

But, toyld in these darketracts with sundrie doubts repleat, Calme shades, and cooler streames must quench this furious heat:

Which seeking, soone we finde where Cowen in her course, Tow'rds the Sabrinian shores, as sweeping from her sourse, Takes Towa, calling then Karkenny by the waie, Her through the waylesse woods of Cardiffe to conuaie; A Forrest, with her floods inuiron'd so about, That hardly she restraines th'vnruly watrie rout, When swelling, they would seeme her Empire to inuade: And oft the lustfull Fawnes and Satyres from her shade Were by the streames entic't, abode with them to make. Then Morlas meeting Taw, her kindly in doth take: Cair comming with the rest, their watrie tracts that tread, Increase the Cowen all; that as their generall head Their largesse doth receiue, to beare out his expence: Who to vast Neptune leads this Courtly confluence.

To the a 1.399 Penbrokian parts the Muse her still doth keepe, Vpon that vtmost point to the Iberian Deepe, By Cowdra comming in: where cleere delightfull aire, (That Forrests most affect) doth welcome her repaire; The Heliconian Maids in pleasant groues delight: (Floods cannot still content their wanton appetite) And wandring in the woods, the neighbouring hils below, With wise Apollo meet (who with his Ivory bowe Once in the paler shades, the Serpent Python slew) And hunting oft with him, the heartlesse Deerc pursue; Those beames then laydeaside he vs'd in heauen to weare. Another ForrestNymph is Narber, standing neare; That with her curled top her neighbor would astound, Whose Groues once brauely grac't the faire Penbrokian ground, When Albion here beheld on this extended land, Amongst his wel-growne Woods, the shag-haird Satyrs stand (The Syluans chiefe resort) the shores then sitting hie, Which vnder water now so many fadoms lie: And wallowing Porpice sport and lord it in the flood, Where once the portly Oke, and large-limb'd Popler stood: Of all the Forrests kind these two now onely left. But Time, as guilty since to mans insatiate theft, Transferd the English names of Townes and housholds hither, With the industrious Dutch since soiourning together.

When wrathfull heauen the clouds so liberally bestow'd, The Seas (then wanting roomth to lay their boy strous loade) Vpon the Belgian Marsh their pampred stomackes cast, That peopled Cities sanke into the mightie wast. The Flemings were inforc't to take them to their Ores, To trie the Setting Maine to find out firmer shores; * 1.400 When as this spacious Ile them entrance did allow, To plant the Belgian stocke vpon this goodly brow:

These Nations, that their tongues did naturally affect, Both generallie forsooke the British Dialect: As when it was decreed by all-fore-dooming Fate, That ancient Rome should stoupe from her emperious state, With Nations from the North then altogether fraught, Which to her ciuill bounds their barbarous customes brought, Of all her ancient spoy les and lastlie be forlorne, From Tybers hallowed banks to old a 1.401 Bizantium borne: Th'abundant Latine then old Latium lastly left, Both of her proper forme and elegancie reft; Before her smoothest tongue, their speech that did preser, And in her tables fixt their ill-shap't Character.

A diuination strange the Dutch made-English haue, Appropriate to that place (as though some Power it gaue) § By th'shoulder of a Ram from off the right side par'd, Which vsuallie they boile, the spade-boane beeing bar'd: Which then the Wizard takes, and gazing there-vpon, Things long to come fore-showes, as things done long agon; Scapes secretlie at home, as those abroad, and farre; Murthers, adulterous stealths, as the euents of warre, The raignes and death of Kings they take on them to know: Which onelie to their skill the shoulder-blade doth show.

You goodlie sister Floods, how happy is your state! Or should I more commend your features, or your 〈◊〉〈◊〉; That Milford, which this Ile her greatest Port doth call Before your equall Floods is lotted to your Fall! Where was saile euer seene, or wind hath 〈◊〉〈◊〉 blowne, Whence Penbrooke yet hath heard of Hauen like her owne? She bids Dungleddy dare * 1.402 Iberias proudest Road, And chargeth her to send her challenges abroad Along the coast of France, to proue if any bee Her Milford that dare match: so absolute is shee. And Clethy comming downe from 〈◊〉〈◊〉 her Sire (A hill that thrusts his head into th'etheriall fire) Her sisters part doth take and dare avouch as much: And Percily the proud, whom neerlie it doth touch, Said, he would beare her out; and that they all should know. And there-withall he struts, as though he scorn'd to show His head belowe the Heauen, when he of Milford spake: But there was not a Port the prize 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vndertake. So highlie Milford is in euery month renownd, Noe Hauen hath ought good, in her that is not found: Whereas the swelling surge, that with his fomie head, The gentler looking Land with furie menaced, With his encountring waue no longer there contends; But sitting mildly downe like perfect ancient friends,

Vnmou'd of any vvind which way so ere it blow, And rather seeme to smile, then knit an angry brow. The ships with shattred ribs scarce creeping from the Seas, On her sleeke bosome ride with such deliberate ease, As all her passed stormes shee holds but meane and base, So shee may reach at length this most delightfull place, By nature with proud Cleeues invironed about, § To crowne the goodlie Road: where builds the Falcon stout, Which we the Gentill call; whose fleet and actiue wings, It seemes that Nature made when most shee thought on Kings: Which manag'd to the lure, her high and gallant flight, The vacant sportfull man so greatlie doth delight, That with her nimble quills his soule doth seeme to houer, And lie the verie pitch that lustie Bird doth couer; That those proud Airies, bred whereas the scorching skie Doth sindge the sandie Wyldes of spicefull Barbarie; * 1.403 Or vnderneath our Pole, where Norwaies Forests wide Their high clowd-touching heads in Winter snowes doe hide, Out-braue not this our kind in mettle, nor exceed The Falcon, which some-times the British Cleeues doe breed: Which prey vpon the Iles in the Vergiuian waste, That from the British shores by Neptune are imbrac'ts VVhich stem his furious Tides when wildliest they doe raue, And breake the big-swolne bulke of manie a boystrous waue: As, calme when hee becomes, then likewise in their glorie Doe cast their amorous eyes at many a Promontorie That thrust their foreheads forth into the smiling South; As Rat and Sheepy, set to keepe calme Milfords mouth, Expos'd to Neptunes power. So Gresholme farre doth stand: * 1.404 Scalme, Stockholme, with Saint Bride, and Gatholme, neerer land (Which with their veinie breasts intice the gods of Sea, That with the lustie Iles doe reuell euery day) As Crescent-like the Land her bredth here inward bends, From Milford, which she forth to old Meneuia sends; Since, holy Dauids seat; which of especiall grace Doth lend that nobler name, to this vnnobler place. Of all the holy men whose fame so fresh remaines, To whom the Britans built so many sumptoous Fanes, This Saint before the rest their Patron still they hold: § Whose birth, their ancient Bards to Cambria long foretold; And seated heere a See, his Bishoprick of yore, Vpon the farthest point of this vnfruitfull shore; Selected by himselfe, that farre from all resort With contemplation seem'd most fitly to comport; That, voyd of all delight, cold, barren, bleake, and dry, No pleasure might allure, nor steale the wandring eye:

Where Ramsey with those Rockes, in ranke that ordered stand Vpon the furthest point of Dauids ancient Land, Doe raise their rugged heads (the Sea-mans noted markes) Call'd, of their Mytred tops, The Bishop and his Clarkes; Into that Chanell cast, whose raging current rores Bet wixt the British Sands, and the Hibernian shores: Whose grimme and horrid face doth pleased heauen neglect, And beares bleake Winter still in his more sad aspect: Yet Gwin and Neuern neere, two fine and fishfull brookes, Do neuer stay their course, how sterne so ere he lookes; Which with his shipping once should seeme to haue commerst, Where Fiscard as her flood, doth only grace the first. To Newport fals the next: there we a while will rest; Our next ensuing Song to wondrous things addrest.

Illustrations.

IF you euer read of, or vulgarly vnderstand, the forme of the Ocean, and affi∣nity twixt it and Riuers, you cannot but conceiue this Poetical description of Seuerne; wherein Amphitrite is supposed to haue giuen her a precious robe: very proper in the matter-selfe, and imitating that a 1.405 Father of the Muses which deriues Agamemnons Scepter to him by descent ioyn'd with gift from Iupiter, Achilles armor from Vulcans bounty, Helens Nepenthe from the AEgyptian Polydamna, and such like, honoring the possessor with the giuers iudgement, as much as with the gift possest.

To whom the goodly Bay of Milford should be giuen.

At Milford hauen arriued Henry Earle of Richmont, aided with some forces and summes of money by the French Charles VIII. but so entertained and strengthned by diuers of his friends, groaning vnder the tyrannicall yoake of Rich. III. that, beyond expectation, at Bosworth in Leicester, the day and Crown was soone his. Euery Chronicle tels you more largely.

And how Lhewelins line in him should doubly thriue.

Turne to the Eagles prophecies in the II. Song, where the first part of this re∣lation is more manifested. For the rest, thus: About our Confessors time Mac∣beth b 1.406 K. of Scotland (moued by predictions, affirming that, his line extinct, the posterity of Banqhuo a noble Thane of Loqhuabrie should attaine and continue the Scotish raigne) and iealous of others hoped for greatnes, murdred Banqhuo, but mist his designe; for, one of the same posterity, Fleanch sonne to Banqhuo, priuily fled to Gryffith ap Lhewelin then Prince of Wales, and was there kindly receiued. To him and Nesta the Princes daughter was issue one Walter. He (af∣terward for his worth fauourably accepted, and through stout performance honourably requited by Malcolmb III.) was made L. high Stewart of Scotland; out of whose loynes Robert II. was deriued: since whom that royall name hath long continued, descending to our mighty Soueraigne, & in him is ioynd with the commixt Kingly bloud of Tyddour and Plantagenest. These two were vni∣ted,

with the * 1.407 white and red Roses, in those auspictous nuptials of Henry the VII. and Elizabeth daughter to Edward IV.) and from them, through the La∣die Margaret their eldest daughter, married to Iames the IV. his Maiesties de∣scent and spatious Empire obserued easily shewes you what the Muse here playes withall. The rest alludes to that; Cambria shall be glad, Cornwall shall flourish, and the Isle shall be stiled with Brutes name, and the name of strangers shall perish: as it is in Merlins prophecies.

That Spirit to her vnknowne this Virgin onely lou'd.

So is the vulgar tradition of Merlins conception. Vntimely it were, if I should slip into discourse of spirits faculties in this kind. For my owne part, vnles there be some creatures of such middle nature, as the Rabbinique a 1.408 conceit vpon the creation supposes; and the same with Hesiods Nymphs, or Paracelsus his Non-adams, I shall not beleeue that other then true bodies on bodies can generate, except by swiftnes of motion in conueying of stolne seed some vn∣cleane spirit might arrogat the improper name of generation. Those which S. Augustine b 1.409 cals * 1.410 Dusij, in Gaule, altogether addicted to such filthines, Faunes, Satyrs and Syluans haue had as much attributed to them. But learne of this, from Diuines vpon the Beni-haelohim c 1.411 in holy Writ, passages of the Fathers vpon this point, and the later authors of disquisitions in Magique and Sorcery, as Bodin, Wier, Martin del Rio, others. For this Merlin (rather Merdhin, as you see to the IV. Song, his true name being Ambrose) his owne answere to Varti∣gern was, that his father was a Roman d 1.412 Consul (so Nennius informes me) as per∣haps it might be, and the fact palliated vnder name of a spirit; as in that of Ilia supposing, to saue her credit, the name of Mars for Romulus his Father. But to enterlace the polite Muse with what is more harsh, yet euen therin perhaps not displeasing, I offer you this antique passage of him.

— the messagers to Kermerdin come
And 〈◊〉〈◊〉 children biuore the rate pleyde hii toke gome
〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 * 1.413 on to another, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 mat is the
Thou faderiese * 1.414 〈◊〉〈◊〉, my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 me
〈◊〉〈◊〉 icham of thinges icome and thou nart nought worth a fille
〈◊〉〈◊〉 thou naddest neuere 〈◊〉〈◊〉 saver, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hold the 〈◊〉〈◊〉
Tho the messagers 〈◊〉〈◊〉 this hii 〈◊〉〈◊〉 there
And 〈◊〉〈◊〉 at men aboute mat the child were
He sebe that he ne had neuere fader that me mighte understonde
And is moder au Kings doughter was of thulke lond
And woned at S. Petres in a nonnerie there.
His mother (a Nun, daughter to Pubidius K. of Mathraual, and cald Matilda, as by e 1.415 Poeticall authority onely I finde iustifiable) and he being brought to the King, she colours it in these words:
—〈◊〉〈◊〉 ofte mas
In chambre mid mine fellawes, there come to me bi cas
A 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hair man mid 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and bi 〈◊〉〈◊〉 me wel softe,
And semblance made haire ynou, and cust me well ofte.
and tels on the story which should follow so kind a preface. But enough of this.

By th'shoulder of a Ram from off the right side par'd.

Take this as a tast of their art in old time. Vnder Hen. II. one William Mangunel f 1.416 a Gentleman of those parts finding by his skill of predicton that his wife had played false with him, and conceiued by his owne Nephew, formally dresses the shoulder-bone of one of his owne Rammes; and sitting at dinner (preten∣ding it to be taken out of his neighbours flocke) requests his wife (equalling

him in these diuinations) to giue her iudgement; she curiously obserues, and at last with great laughter casts it from her: the Gentleman, importuning her rea son of so vehement an affection, receiues answere of her, that, his wife, our of whose flocke the Ram was taken, had by incestuous copulation with her hus∣bands Nephew fraughted her selfe with a yong one. Lay all together, and iudge, Gentle women, the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of this crosse accident. But why she could not as well diuine of whose flocke it was, as the other secret, when I haue more skill in Osteomantie, I will tell you. Nor was their report lesse in knowing things to come, then past; so that iealous Panurge in his doubt * 1.417 de la Coquage might here haue had other manner of resolution then Rondibilis, Hippothade, Bridoye, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 an, or the Oracle it self, were able to giue him. Blame me not, in that, to explane my author, I insert this example.

To crowne the goodly roade, where built that Falcon stout.

In the rockes of this maritime coast of Penbroke are Eiries of excellent Falcons. Henry the II. here passing into Ireland, cast off a Norway Golhauke at one of these: but the Goshauke taken at the source by the Falcon, soonefell down at the Kings foot, which performance in this Ramage, made him yearly * 1.418 afterward send hither for Eyesses as Girald is author. Whether these here are the Haggarts (which they call Peregrin's) or Falcon-gentles, I am no such Falco∣ner to argue; but this I know, that the reason of the name of Peregrin's is giuen, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that they com from remote b 1.419 and vnknowne places, and therefore hardly fits these: but also I read in no lesse then Imperiall c 1.420 authority, that Peregrins neuer bred in lesse latitude then beyond the VII. climat Dia Riphaeos, whtch permits them this place; and that, of true Falcons gentle an Eiry is neuer found but in a more Southerne and hotter parallel: which (if it betrue) excludes the name of Gentle from ours, breeding neere the IX. Per Rostochium. And the same authority makes them (against common opinion) both of one kind, dif∣fering rather in locall and outward accidents, then in selfe-nature.

Whose birth the ancient Bards to Cambria long foretold.

Of S. Dewy and his Bishoprique you haue more to the fourth Song. He was prognosticated d 1.421 aboue XXX. yeares before his birth; which with other attributed miracles (after the fashion of that credulous age) caused him be almost paralleld in Monkish zeale with that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Iahn which, vnborne, sprang at presence of the incarnat Author of our redemption. The translation of the Arch bishoprique was also e 1.422 foretold in that of Merlin: Meneuia shall put on the Palle of Caer-Jeon; and the Preacher of Ireland shall wax dumbe by an infant gro∣wing in the wombe. That was performed when S. P atrique at presence of Melarta then with child suddenly lost vse of his speech; but recouering it after some time made prediction of Dewies holines, ioyn'd with greatnes, which is so cele∣brated. Vpon my Authors credits only beleeue me.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The Sixt Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

With Cardigan the Muse proceeds, And tells what rare things Tivy breeds: Next, proud Plynillimon shee plyes; Where Severne, Wy, and Rydoll rise. With Severne shee along doth goe, Her Metamorphosis to showe; And makes the wandring Wy declame In honour of the British name: Then musters all the watry traine That those two Riuers entertaine: And viewing how those Rillets creepe From shore to the Vergiuian Deepe, By Radnor and Mountgomery then To Severne turnes her course agen: And bringing all their Riuer ets in, There ends; a new Song to begin.

SIth I must stem thy Streame, cleere Tivy, yet before The Muse vouchsafe to seife the Cardiganian shore, Shee of thy sourse will sing in all the Cambrian coast; Which of thy Castors once, but now canst onelie boast The Salmons, of all Floods most plentifull in thee. Deere Brooke, within thy Banks if anie Powers there bee; Then Neiads, or yee Nymphs of their like watrie kind (Vnto whose onelie care, great Neptune hath assign'd The guidance of those Brooks wherein he takes delight) Assist her: and whilst shee your dwelling shall recite, Be present in her work: let her your graces view, That to succeeding times them liuelie shee may shew; As when great Albions sonnes, which him a Sea-Nymph brought Amongst the grisly Rocks, were with your beauties caught (Whose onelie loue surpriz'd those of the a 1.423 Phlegrian size, The Titanois, that once against high Heauen durst rise)

When as the hoarie vvoods, the climing hills did hide, And couer'd euerie Valethrough which you gentlie glide; Euen for those inly heats which through your loues they felt, That oft in kindlie teares did in your bosomes melt, To view your secret Bowres, such fauour let her win.

Then Tivy commeth downe from her capacious Lin, Twixt Mirk and Brenny led, two handmaids, that doe stay Their Mistres, as in State shee goes vpon her way.

VVhich when Lanbeder sees, her wondrouslie shee likes: Whose vntam'd bosome so the beautious Tivy strikes, As that the Forrest faine would haue her there abide. But shee (so pure a streame) transported with her pride The offer idlie scorns; though with her flattering shade The Syluan her entice with all that may perswade A water-Nymph; yea, though great Thetis selfe shee were: But nothing might preuaile, nor all the pleasures there Her mind could euer moue one minutes staie to make.

Mild Mathern then, the next, doth Tivy ouer-take: Which instantlie againe by Dittor is suppli'd. Then, Keach and Kerry helpe: twixt which on either side, To Cardigan shee comes, the Soueraigne of the Shere. Now Tivy let vs tell thy sundrie glories here.

When as the Salmon seekes a fresher streame to find (Which hither from the Sea comes yeerely by his kind, As he in season growes) and stems the watry tract Where Tivy falling downe, doth make a * 1.424 Cataract, Forc't by the rising Rocks that there her course oppose, As though within their bounds they meant her to inclose; Heere, when the labouring Fish doth at the foote arriue, And finds that by his strength but vainlie he doth striue, His taile takes in his teeth; and bending like a bowe, That's to the compasse drawne, aloft himself doth throwe: Then springing at his height, as doth a little wand, That bended end to end, and flerted from the hand, Farre off it selfe doth cast; so doth the Salmon vaut. And if at first he faile, his second a 1.425 Summersaut 〈◊〉〈◊〉 instantlie assaies; and from his nimble Ring, Still yarking, neuer leaues, vntill himselfe he fling Aboue the streamefull top of the surrounded heape.

More famous long agone, then for the Salmons leape, For Beuers Tivy was, in her strong banks that bred, Which else no other Brooke of Brittaine nourished: Where Nature, in the shape of this now-perisht beast His propertie did seeme t'haue wondrouslie exprest; Be'ing bodied like a Boat, with such a mightie taile As seru'd him for a bridge, a helme, or for a saile,

When Kind did him commaund the Architect to play, That his strong Castle built of branched twigs and clay: Which, set vpon the Deepe, but yet not fixed there, Hee easelie could remoue as it he pleas'd to stere To this side or to that; the workmanship so rare, His stuffe where-with to build, first beeing to prepare, A forraging he goes, to Groues or bushes nie, And with his teeth cuts downe his Timber: which laid-by, He turnes him on his back, his belly laid abroad, When with what he hath got, the other doe him load, Till lastlie by the weight, his burthen hee haue found. Then, with his mightie taile his carriage hauing bound As Carters dow with ropes, in his sharpe teeth hee grip't Some stronger stick: from which the lesser branches stript, He takes it in the midst; at both the ends, the rest Hard holding with their fangs, vnto the labour prest, Going backward, tow'rds their home their loaded carriage led, From whom, those first heere borne, were taught the vsefull Sled. Then builded he his Fort with strong and seueral fights; His passages contriu'd with such vnvsuall sleights, That from the Hunter oft he issu'd vndiscern'd, As if men from this Beast to fortifie had learn'd; § Whose Kind, in her decay'd, is to this Ile vnknowne. Thus Tivy boasts this Beast peculiarly her owne.

But here why spend I time these trifles to areed? Now, with thy former taske my Museagaine proceed, To shewe the other Floods from the a 1.426 Cerettick shore To the Vergiuian Sea contributing their store: With Bidder first begin, that bendeth all her force The Arron to assist, Arth holding on her course The way the other went, with Werry which doth win Faire Istwid to her ayde; who kindlie comming in, Meets Rydoll at her mouth, that faire and princelie maid, Plynillimons deere child, deliciouslie arraid, As fits a Nymph so neere to Severne and her Queene. Then come the sister Salks, as they before had seene Those delicater Dames so trippinglie to tread: Then Kerry; Cletur next, and Kinuer making head With Enion, that her like cleere Leuant brings by her.

Plynillimons high praise no longer Muse defer; What once the Druids told, how great those Floods should bee That here (most mightie Hill) deriue themselues from thee. The Bards with furie rapt, the British youth among, § Vnto the charming Harpe thy future honor song In braue and loftie straines; that in excesse of ioy, The Beldam and the Girle, the Grandsire and the Boy,

With shouts and yearning cries, the troubled ayredid load (As when vvith crowned cuppes vnto the a 1.427 Elian God Those Priests his Orgyes held; or when the old world saw Full Phoebes face eclipst, and thinking her to daw, Whom they supposed falne in some inchanted swound, Of beaten tinkling Brasse still ply'd her with the sound) That all the Cambrian hills, which high'st their heads doe beare With most obsequious showes of lowe subiected feare, Should to thy greatnes stoupe: and all the Brooks that be, Doe homage to those Floods that issued out of thee: To prìncelie Severne first; next, to her sister, Wye, Which to her elders Court her course doth still apply. But Rydoll, young'st, and least, and for the others pride Not finding fitting roomth vpon the rising side, Alone vnto the West directlie takes her way. So all the neighboring Hills Plynillimon obey. For, though Moylvadian beare his craggy top so hie, As scorning all that come in compasse of his eye, Yet greatlie is he pleas'd Plynillimon will grace Him with a cheerfull looke: and, fawning in his face, His loue to Severne showes as though his owne she were, Thus comforting the Flood; O euer-during heire Of Sabrine, Locryns child (who of her life bereft, * 1.428 Her euer-liuing name to thee faire Riuer left) Brutes first begotten sonne, which Gwendolin did wed; But soone th'vnconstant Lord abandoned her bed (Through his vnchaste desire) for beautious Elstreds loue. Now, that which most of all her mightie hart did moue, Her Father, Cornwalls Duke, great Corineus dead, VVas by the lustfull King vniustlie banished. When shee, who to that time still with a smoothed brow Had seem'd to beare the breach of Locrines former vow, Perceiuing stil her wrongs insufferable were; Growne bigge with the reuenge which her full breast did beare, And ayded to the birth with euery little breath (Alone shee beeing left the spoyle of loue and death, In labour of her griefe outrageously distract, The vtmost of her spleene on her false Lord to act) Shee first implores their aide to hate him whom shee found; Whose harts vnto the depth she had not left to sound. To Cornwall then shee sends (her Country) for supplies: Which all at once in Armes with Gwendolin arise. Then with her warlike power, her husband shee pursu'd, Whom his vnlawfull loue too vainlie did delude.

The fierce and iealous Queene, then voyde of all remorce, As great in power as spirit, whilst hee neglects her force,

Him suddainlie surpriz'd, and from her irefull hart All pittie cleane exil'd (whom nothing could conuert) The sonne of mightie Brute bereaued of his life; Amongst the Britans here the first intestine strife, Since they were put a-land vpon this promis'd shore. Then crowning Madan King, whom shee to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 bore. And those which seru'd his Sire to his obedience brought; Not so with blood suffic'd, immediatly she sought The mother and the child: whose beautie when shee saw, Had not her hart been flint, had had the power to draw A spring of pittying teares; when, dropping liquid pearle, Before the cruell Queene, the Ladie and the Girle Vpon their tender knees begg'd mercie. Woe for thee Faire Elstred, that thou should'st thy fairer Sabrine see, As shee should thee behold the prey to her sterne rage Whom kinglie Locrins death suffic'd not to asswage: Who from the bordring Cleeues thee with thy Mother cast Into thy christned Flood, the whilst the Rocks aghast Resounded with your shriekes; till in a deadlie dreame Your corses were dissolu'd into that crystall streame, Your curles to curled waues, which plainlie still appeare The same in water now, that once in locks they were: And, as you wont to clip each others neck before, Yee now with liquid armes embrace the wandring shore.

But leaue we Severne heere, a little to pursue The often wandring Wye (her passages to view, As wantonlie shee straines in her lasciuious course) And muster euery flood that from her bountious sourse Attends vpon her Streame, whilst (as the famous bound Twixt the Brecknokian earth, and the Radnorian ground) Shee euery Brooke receiues. First, Clarwen commeth in, With Clarwy: which to them their consort Eland win To ayde their goodly Wye; which, Ithon gets againe: She Dulas drawes along: and in her watry traine Clowedock hath recourse, and Comran; which she brings Vnto their wandring flood from the Radnorian Springs: As Edwy her attends, and Matchwy forward heaues Her Mistresse. When, at last the goodly Wye perceaues Shee now was in that part of Wales, of all the rest Which (as her very waste) in breadth from East to West, In length from North to South, her midst is euery way, From Severns bordring banks vnto the either Sea, And might be tearm'd her hart. The ancient Britans heere The Riuer calls to mind, and what those British were Whilst Britain was her selfe, the Queene of all the West.

To whose old Nations praise whilst shee her selfe addrest,

From the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 when Irvon comming in, Her Dulas, with Commarch, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that doth win, Perswading her for them good matter to prouide. The Wood-Nymphs so againe, from the Radnorian side, As Radnor, with 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and Knockles Forrests, call To Wye, and bad her now 〈◊〉〈◊〉 her for them all: For, if shee stuck not close in their distressed Case, The Britaus were in doubt to vnder-goc disgrace. That stronglie thus pnouok't, shee for the Britans saies; What spirit can lift you vp, to that immortall praise § You worthilie deserue? by whom first Gaul was taught Her knowledge: and for her, what Nation euer wrought The conquest you 〈◊〉〈◊〉? And, as you were most drad, So yee (before the rest) in so great reuerence had Your Bards which sung your deeds, that whé sterne hosts haue stood With lifted hands to strike (in their inflamed blood) § One Bard but comming in, their murd'rous swords hath staid; In her most dreadful voice as thundring heauen had said, Stay Britans: when he spake, his words so powrefull were.

So to her natiue Priests, the dreadlesse Druides here, The neerest neighboring Gaul, that wiselie could discerne Th'effect their doctrine wrought, it for their good: o learne, Her apt and pregnant Youth sent hit her yeere by yeere, Instructed in our Rites with most religious feare. And afterward againe, when as our ancient seat Her surcrease could not keepe, growne for her soile too great (But like to casting Bees, so rising vp in swarmes) § Our Cymbri with the Gaules, that their commixed Armes Ioyn'd with the German powers (those Nations of the North VVhich ouer-spread the world) together issued forth: § VVhere, with our brazen swords, we stoutly fought, and long; And after Conquests got, residing them among, First planted in those parts our braue courageous brood: Whose natures so adher'd vnto their ancient blood, As from them sprang those Priests, whose praise so farre did sound, Through whom that spacious Gaul was after so renown'd.

Nor could the Saxons swords (which many a lingring yeere Them sadlie did afflict, and shut vs Britans heere. Twixt Severne and this Sea) our mightie minds deiect; But that euen they which fain'st our weaknes would detect, Were forced to confesse, our wildest beasts that breed Vpon our mightie wastes, or on our Mountaines feed, Were farre more sooner tam'd, then heere our Welch-men were: Besides, in all the world no Nation is so deere As they vnto their owne; that here within this Ile, Or else in fortaine parts, yea, forced to exile,

The noble Britan still his country man relecues; A Patriot, and so true, that it to death him greeues To heare his Wales disgract't: and on the Saxons swords Oft hazardeth his life, ere with reprochefull words His Language or his Leeke hee'le stand to heare abus'd. Besides, the Britan is so naturallie infus'd With true Poëtick rage, that in their a 1.429 measures, Art Doth rather seeme precise, then comlie; in each part Their Metre most exact, in Verse of th'hardest kind. And some to riming be so wondrouslie inclin'd, Those Numbers they will hit, out of their genuine vaine, Which many wise and learn'd can hardly 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

O memorable Bards, of vnmixt blood, which still Posteritie shall praise for your so wondrous skill, That in your noble Songs, the long Descents haue kept Of your great Heroës, else in Let he that had slept, With theirs whose ignorant pride your labours haue disdain'd; How much from time, and them, how brauelie haue you gain'd! Musician, Herault, Bard, thrice maist thou be renown'd, And with three seuerall wreathes immortallie be crown'd; Who, when to Penbrooke call'd before the English King, And to thy powerfull Harpe commaunded there to sing, Of famous Arthur told'st, and where hee was interr'd; In which, those retchlesse times had long and blindlie err'd, And Ignorance had brought the world to such a pass As now, which scarce beleeues that Arthur euer was. But when King b 1.430 Henry sent th'reported place to view, He found that man of men: and what thou said'st was true.

Heere then I cannot chuse but bitterlie exclame Against those fooles that all Antiquitie defame, Because they haue found out, some credulous Ages layd Slight fictions with the truth, whilst truth on rumor stayd; And that one forward Time (perceiuing the neglect A former of her had) to purchase her respect, VVith toyes then trimd her vp, the drow sie world t'allure, And lent her what it thought might appetite procure To man, whose mind doth still varietie pursue; And therefore to those things whose grounds were vcrie true, Though naked yet and bare (not hauing to content The weyward curious eare) gaue 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ornament; And fitter thought, the truth they should in question call, Then coldlie sparing that, the truth should goe and all. And surelie I suppose, that which this froward time Doth scandalize her with to be her hey nous crime, That hath her most preseru'd: for, still where wit hath found A thing most cleerlie true, it made that, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ground:

VVhich shee suppos'd might giue sure colour to them both: From which, as from a roote, this wondred error grow'th At which our Criticks gird, whose iudgements are so strict, And he the brauest man who most can contradict That which decrepit Age (which forced is to leane Vpon Tradition) tells; esteeming it so meane, As they it quite reiect, and for some trifling thing (Which Time hath pind to Truth) they all away will fling. These men (for all the world) like our Precisions bee, VVho for some Crosse or Saint they in the window see Will pluck downe all the Church: Soule-blinded sots that creepe In durt, and neuer saw the wonders of the Deepe. Therefore (in my conceit) most rightlie seru'd are they § That to the Roman trust (on his report that stay) Our truth from him to learne, as ignorant of ours As we were then of his; except t'were of his powers: Who our wise Druides here vnmercifullie slew; Like whom, great Natures depths no men yet euer knew, Nor with such dauntlesse spirits were euer yet inspir'd; Who at their proud arriue th'ambitious Romans fir'd VVhen first they heard them preach the soules immortall state; And euen in Romes despight, and in contempt of Fate, Graspt hands with horrid death: which out of hate and pride They flew, who through the world were reuerenced beside.

To vnderstand our state, no maruaile then though wee Should so to Casar seeke, in his reports to see VVhat ancientlie we were; when in our infant war, Vnskilfull of our tongue but by Interpreter, Hee nothing had of ours which our great Bards did sing, Except some few poore words; and those againe to bring Vnto the Latine sounds, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they vs'd, By their most filed speech, our British most abus'd. But of our former state, beginning, our descent, The warres we had at home, the conquests where we went, He neuer vnderstood. And though the Romans here So noble Trophies lest, as verie worthie were A people great as they, yet did they ours neglect, Long rear'd ere they arriu'd. And where they doe obiect, The Ruines and Records we show, be verie small To proue our selues so great: euen this the most of all (Gainst their obiection) seemes miraculous to mee, That yet those should be found so generall as they bee; The Roman, next the Pict, the Saxon, then the Dane, All landing in this Ile, each like a horrid raine Deforming her; besides the sacrilegious wrack Of many a noble Booke, as impious hands should sack

The Center, to extirp all knowledge, and exile All braue and ancient things, for euer from this Ile: Expressing wondrous griefe, thus wandring Wye did sing.

But, backe, industrious Muse; obsequiously to bring Cleere Seuerne from her sourse, and tell how she doth straine Downe her delicious Dales; with all the goodly traine, Brought forth the first of all by Brugan: which to make Her party worthy note, next, Dulas in doth take. Moylvadian his much loue to Seuerne then to showe, Vpon her Southerne side, sends likewise (in a rowe) Bright Biga, that brings on her friend and fellow Floyd; Next, Dungum; Bacho then is busily imploy'd, Tarranon, Carno, Hawes, with Becan, and the Rue, In Seuern's soueraine Bankes, that giue attendance due.

Thus as she swoopes along, with all that goodly traine, Vpon her other Banke by Newtowne: so againe § Comes Dulas (of whose name so many Riuers bee, As of none others is) with Mule, prepar'd to see The confluence to their Queene, as on her course she makes: Then at Mountgomery next cleere Kennet in she takes; Where little Fledding fals into her broader Banke; Forkt Vurnway, bringing Tur, and Tanot: growing ranke, She plyes her towards the Poole, from the Gomerian feelds; Then which in all our Wales, there is no country yeelds An excellenter Horse, so full of naturall fire, As one of Phoebus Steeds had beene that Stalyons sire Which first their race begun; or of th' Asturian kind, § Which some haue held to be begotten by the Wind, Vpon the Mountaine Mare; which strongly it receaues, And in a little time her pregnant part vpheaues.

But, leaue we this to such as after wonders long: The Muse prepares her selfe vnto another Song.

Illustrations.

AFter Penbroke in the former Song, succeedes here Cardigan; both washt by the Irish Seas. But, for intermixture of riuers, and contiguity of situa∣tion, the inlands of Montgomery, Radnor, and Brecknocke are partly infolded.

Whose Kind, in her decaid, is to this Ile vnknowne.

That these Riuers were in Trvy frequent, anciently is testified by Syluester Girald a 1.431 describing the particulars, which the author tels you, both of this, and the Salmons; but that here, are no Beuers now, as good authority of the pre∣sent b 1.432 time informes you.

Vnto thy charming Harpe thy future honor song.

Of the `Bards, their Singing, Heraldship, and more of that nature, see to the

fourth Song. Ireland (saith one) vses the Harpe and Pipe, which he cals tympa∣num: * 1.433 Scotland the Harpe, Tympan, and Chorus; Wales the Harp, Pipe, and Cho∣rus. Although Tympanum and Chorus haue other significations, yet, this Girald (from whom I vouch it) vsing these words as receiued, I imagine, of S. Hieromes Epistle to Dardanus, according to whom, for explanation, finding them pi∣ctur'd in Ottomar Luscinius his Musurgie, as seuerall kind of Pipes, the first diuiding it selfe into two at the end, the other spred in the middle, as two seg∣ments of a circle, but one at both ends, I guesse them intended neere the same. But I refer my selfe to those that are more acquainted with these kind of British fashions. For the Harpe his word is Cithara; which (if it be the same with Lyra, as somethinke, although vrging reason and authority are to the contrary) makes the Bards musique, like that exprest in the d 1.434 Lyrique:
—bibam
Sonante mistum tibijs carmen lyrâ,
Hâc Dorium, illis Barbarum.
Apply it to the former notes, and obserue with them, that e 1.435 the Pythagoreans vsed, with musique of the Harp (which in those times, if it were Apollo's, was cer∣tainly but of f 1.436 seuen strings) when they went to sleepe, to charme (as the old Scots were wont to do, & do yet in their Isles, as Buchanan g 1.437 affirms) & compose their troubled affections. Which I cite to this purpose, that in cōparing it with the British musique, and the attributes thereof before remembred out of Hera∣cleotes and Girald, you may see conueniency of vse in both, and worth of anti∣quity in ours; and as well in Pipes as Harp, if you remember the poetique storie of Marsyas. And withall forget not that in one of the oldest coines that haue beene made in this Kingdome, the picture of the Reuers is Apollo hauing his Harp incircled with Cunobelins name, then chiefe King of the Britons; and for Belin and Apollo, see to the VIII. Song.

By whom first Gaule was taught her knowledge.

Vnderstand the knowledge of those great Philosophers, Priests, and Lawyers call'd Druid's (of whom to the X. Song largely.) Their discipline was first found out in this Isle, and afterward transfer'd into Gaule; whence their youth were sent hither as to an Vniuersity for instruction in their learned professions: h 1.438 Caesar himselfe is author of as much. Although, in particular law learning, it might seeme that Britaine was requited, if the Satyrist i 1.439 deceiue not in that;
* 1.440 Gallia causidicos docuit facunda Britannos.
Which with excellent Lipsius k 1.441, I rather apply to the dispersion of the Latine tongue through Gaule into this Prouince, then to any other language or mat∣ter. For also in Agicolas time somewhat before, it appeares that matter of good litterature was here in a farre higher degree then there, as Tacitus in his life hath recorded. Thus hath our Isle beene as Mistris to Gaule twice. First in this Druidian doctrine, next in the institution of their now famous Vniuersity of Paris; which was done by Charlemaine, through aide and industry of our lear∣ned Alcuin (he is called also Albin, and was first sent Embassador to the Empe∣rour by Offa K. of Mercland) seconded by those Scots, l 1.442 Iohn Mailtos, Glaudius Clement, and Raban Maurus. But I know great men permit it not; not can I see any very ancient authority for it, but infinit of latertimes; so that it goes as a receiued opinion; therefore without more examination in this no more fit passage, I commit it to my Reader.

One Bard but coming in their murdrous swords hath staid.

Such strange assertion finde I in story of these Bards powerfull enchant∣ments, that with the amazing sweetnes of their delicious a 1.443 harmonies, not their own only, but withall their enemies armies haue suddenly desisted from fierce encounters; so, as my author sayes, did Mars reuerence the Muses. This exactly continues all fitnes with what is before affirmed of that kind of Musique; twixt which (and all other by authentique affirmance) and the minds affections there are certaine b 1.444 * 1.445 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as in this particular example is apparant. But how agreeth this with that in Tacitus which cals a musicall incentiue to warre a∣mong the Germans, Barditus? Great critiques would there c 1.446 read Barrhitus, which in Vegetius and Ammian especially, is a peculiar name for those stirring vp alarmes before the battell vsed in Roman assaults (equall in proportion to the Greekes 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the Irish Kerns Pharrob, & that Rolands Song of the Nor∣mans, which hath had his like also, in most nations.) But, seeing Barrhit{us} (in this sense) is a word of latertime, and scarce yet, without remembrance of his natu∣ralization, allowed in the Latine; and, that this vse was notable in those Nor∣therns * 1.447 and Ganles, vntill warres with whom, it seemes Rome had not a proper word for it (which appeares by Festus Pompeius, affirming that the cry of the armie was call'd Barbaricum) I should thinke somewhat confidently, that Bar∣ditus (as the common copies are) is the truest d 1.448 reading; yet so, that Barditus for∣med by an vnknowing pronunciation is, and, by originall, was the selfe-same. For, that Lipsius mending the place, will haue it from Baren in Dutch, which signifies, To crie out, or from Har Har (which is as Haron in the Norman cu∣stomes and elsewhere) or from the word Beare for imitation of that beasts crie, I much wonder, seeing Tacitus makes expresse metition of verses harmo∣nically celebrating valiant performers, recitall whereof hath that name Bardi∣tus, which to interpret we might wel cal Singing. But to conioyn this fiery office with that quenching power, of the Bards, spoken of by the author, I imagine that they had also for this martiall purpose skill in that kind of musique, which they call Phrygian, being (as Aristotle sayes) 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. i. as it were, madding the mind with sprightfull motion. For so we see that those which sing the Tempering & mollifying e 1.449 Paeans to Apollo, the 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 & 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 after victory, did among the Greeks in another straine moue with their Paeans to Mars, their O'〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, and prouoking charmes before the encounter; and so meetes this in our Bards dispersed doubtlesse (as the Druids) through Britaine, Gaule, and part of Germany, which three had especially in warfare much com∣munitie.

Our Cimbri with the Gaules—

National transmigrations touched to the fourth Song giue light hither. The name of Cimbri (which most of the learned in this later time haue made the same with Commerians, Cumerians, Cambrians, all comming from Gomdr. f 1.450 Ia∣phets sonne, to whom with his posterity was this North-Westerne part of the world diuided) expressing the Welsh, calling themselues also Kumry. The au∣thor alludes here to that British armie, which in our story is conducted vnder Brennus and Belinus (sonnes to Molmutius) through Gaule, and thence prose∣cuted, what in the VIII. Song and my notes there more plainly.

Where, with our Brazen swords—

The Author thus teaches you to know, that, among the ancients, Brasse, not

Iron, was the metall of most vse. In their little Sithes, wherewith they a 1.451 cut their herbes for inchantments, their Priests Rasours, Plow-shares for describing the content of plotted Cities, their musique instruments, and such like, how speciall this metall was, it is with good warrant deliuered; Nor with lesse, how frequent in the making of Swords, Speares, and Armor in the Heroique times, as among other authorities that in the encounter of Diomedes and Hector b 1.452 ma∣nifesteth:
* 1.453 —〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
Which seemes in them to haue proceeded from a willingnes of auoyding in∣struments too deadly in wounding; For from a styptique faculty in this, more then in Iron, the cure of what it hurts is affirmed more easie, and the metall it selfe, * 1.454 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, as c 1.455 Aristotle expresses. But that our Britons vsed it also it hath beene out of old monuments by our most d 1.456 learned Antiquary obserued.

That to the Roman trust (on his report that stay)

For indeed many are which the author here impugnes, that dare beleeue no∣thing of our storie, or antiquities of more ancient times; but only Iulius Cae∣sar, * 1.457 and other about or since him. And surely his ignorance of this Isle was great, time forbidding him language or conuersation with the British. Nor was any before him of his country, that knew or medled in relation of vs. The first of them that once to letters committed any word deduced from Britaines name was a Philosophicall e 1.458 Poet (flourishing some L. yeares before Caesar) in theseverses:
Nam quid Britannum coelum differre putamus,
Et quodin AEgypto'st, quà mundi claudicat axis?
In thesomwhat later Poets that liu'd about August{us}, as Catull{us}, Virgil, & Horace, some passages of the name haue you, but nothing that discouers any monu∣ment of this Isiand proper to her inhabitants. I would not reckon Corneli{us} Ne∣pos among them, to whose name is attributed, in Print, that polite Poem (in whose composition Apollo seemes to haue giuen personall aide) of the Troian * 1.459 warre, according to Dares the Phrygians story; where, by Poeticall liberty the Britons are supposed to haue been with Hercules at the rape of Hesione: I should so, besides error, wrong my country, to whose glory the true authors name of that booke will among the worthies of the Muses euer liue. Read but these of his verses, and then iudge if he were a Roman:
—Sine remigis vsu
Non nosset Memphis Romam, non Indus Hiberum,
Non Scytha Cecropidem, non Nostra Britannia Gallum.
And in the same booke to Baldwin Archbishop of Canterbury:
At tu dissimulis longè cui fronte serenâ
Sanguinis egregij lucrum, pacem{que} litatâ
Emptam animâ Pater illepius, summum{que} cacumen
In curam venisse velit, cui cederet ipse
Prorsus, vel proprias laetus sociaret habenas.
Of him a little before:
—quo praeside Floret
* 1.460 〈◊〉〈◊〉, & in priscas respirat libera leges.

Briefly thus: the Author was Ioseph of Excester (afterward Archbishop of Bourdeaux) famous in this and other kind of good learning, vnder Hen. II. and Rich. I. speaking among those verses in this forme:
Te sacrae assument acies diuina{que} bella.
Tunc dignum maiore tuba, tunc pectore 〈◊〉〈◊〉
Nitar, & immensum mecum spargêre per Orbem.

Which must (as I think) be entended of Baldwin whose vndertaking of the cros and voyage with Cocur de Lion into the Holy-land, and death there, is in our a 1.461 Stories; out of which you may haue large declaration of this holy father (so he cals Tho. Becket) that bought peace with price of his life; being murdred in his house at Canterbury, through the vrging grieuances intollerable to the King and Laity, his diminution of common law liberties, and endeuored dero∣gation, for maintenance of Romish vsurped supremacie. For these liberties, see Matthew Paris before all other, and the Epistles of b 1.462 Iohn of Salisbury, but late∣ly published; and, if you please, my lauus Anglorum, where they are re∣stored from senseles corruption, and are indeede more themselues then in any other whatsoeuer in print. But thus too much of this false Cornelius. Compare with these notes what is to the first Song of Britaine and Albion; and you shall see that in Greeke writers mention of our Land is long before any in the Latin: for Polybius that is the first which mentions it, was more then C. yeares before Lucretius. The authors plainenes in the rest of Wies Song to this purpose dis∣charges my further labour.

Comes Dulas, of whose name so many riuers bee.

As in England the names of Avon, Ouse, Stoure, and some other; so in Wales, before all, is Dulas, a name very often of riuers in Radnor, Brecknock, Caermard∣bin, and elsewhere.

Which some haue held to be begotten of the wind.

In those Westerne parts of Spaine, Gallicia, Portugall and Asturia many Clas∣sique testimonies, both Poets, as Virgil, Silius Italicus, Naturalists, Historians and Geopontques, as Varro, Columel, Pliny, Trogus and Solinus haue remembred these Mares, which conceiue through feruent lust of Nature, by the West wind; without copulation with the male (in such sort as the Oua subuentanea c 1.463 are bred in Hens) but so that the Folles liue not ouer some three yeares. I referre it as an Allegory d 1.464 to the expressing onely of their fertile breed and swiftnes in course; which is elegantly to this purpose, framed by him that was the Father e 1.465 of this conceit to his admiring posterity, in these speaking of Xanthus and Balius, two of Achilles Horses:
— * 1.466 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
Whence withall you may note, that Homer had at least heard of these coasts of Spaine, according as vpon the coniectures on the name of Lisbon, the Elysians, and other such you haue in f 1.467 Strabo. But for Lisbon, which many will haue from * 1.468 Vlysses, and call it Vlixbon, being commonly written Olisippo or Vlissippo in the ancients, you shall haue better etymologie, if you hence deriue and make it 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, as it were, that the whole tract is a Seminary of Horses, as a most lear∣ned man hath deliuered.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The seauenth Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

The Muse from Cambria comes againe, To view the Forrest of faire Deane; Sees Severne; when the Higre takes her, How Feuer-like the sicknes shakes her; Makes mightie Maluerne speake his mind In honour of the Mountaine kind; Thence wafted with a merry gale, Sees Lemster, and the Golden Vale; Sports with the Nymphs, themselues that ply At th'wedding of the Lug and Wy; Viewing the Herefordian pride Along on Severns setting side, That small Wigornian part survaies: Where for a while herselfe shee staies.

HIgh matters call our Muse, inviting her to see As well the lower Lands, as those where latelie shee The Camhrian Mountaines clome, & (looking from aloft) Survaid coy Severns course: but now to shores more soft Shee shapes her prosperous saile; and in this loftie Song, The Herefor dian floods invites with her along, § That fraught from plentious Powse, with their superfluous waste, Manure the batfull March, vntill they be imbrac't In Sabrins Soueraigne armes: with whose tumultuous waues § Shut vp in narrower bounds, the Higre wildly raues; And frights the stragling flocks, the neighbouring shores to flie, A farre as from the Maine it comes with hideous cry, And on the angry front the curled foame doth bring, The billowes gainst the banks when fiercely it doth fling; Hurles vp the slimie ooze, and makes the scalie brood Leape madding to the Land affrighted from the flood; Oreturnes the toyling Barge, whose steresman doth not lanch, And thrusts the furrowing beake into her irefull panch:

As when we haplie see a sicklie woman fall Into a fit of that which wee the Mother call, * 1.469 When from the grieued wombe shee feeles the paine arise, Breakes into grieuous sighes, with intermixed cries, Bereaued of her sense; and strugling still with those That gainst her rising paine their vtmost strength oppose, Starts, tosses, tumbles, strikes, turnes, touses, spurnes and spraules, Casting with furious lims her holders to the walles; But that the horrid pangs torments the grieued so, One well might muse frō whence this suddaine strength should grow.

Here (Queene of Forrests all, that West of Severne lie) Her broad and bushie top Deane holdeth vp so hie, The lesser are not seene, shee is so tall and large. And standing in such state vpon the winding marge, § Within her hollow woods the Satyres that did wonne In gloomie secret shades, not pierc't with Sommers sunne, Vnder a false pretence the Nymphs to entertaine, Oft rauished the choice of Sabrins watry traine; And from their Mistris banks them taking as a prey, Vnto their wooddie Caues haue carried them away: Then from her inner Groues for succour when they cri'd, Shee retchlesse of their wrongs (her Satyres scapes to hide) Vnto their iust complaint not once her eare enclines: So fruitfuli in her Woods, and wealthy in her Mines, That Leden which her way doth through the Desert make, Though neere to Deane ally'd, determin'd to for sake Her course, and her cleere lims amongst the bushes hide, Least by the Syluans (should she chance to be espide) Shee might vnmaidned goe vnto her Soueraigne Flood: So manie were the rapes done on the watry brood, That Sabrine to her Sire (great Neptune) forc't to sue, The ryots to represse of this outrageous crue, His armed Orks hee sent her milder streame to keepe, To driue them back to Deane that troubled all the Deepe.

§ Whilst Malverne (king of Hills) faire Severne ouer-lookes (Attended on in state with tributarie Brookes) And how the fertill fields of Hereford doe lie. And from his many heads, with many an amorous eye Beholds his goodlie site, how towards the pleasant rise, Abounding in excesse, the Vale of Eusham lies, The Mountaines euery way about him that doe stand, Of whom hee's daily seene, and seeing doth command; On tiptoes set aloft, this proudlie vttereth hee:

Olympus, fayr'st of Hills, that Heauen art said to bee, I not envie thy state, nor lesse my selfe doe make; Nor to possesse thy name, mine owne would I forsake:

Nor would I, as thou doost, ambitiouslie aspire To thrust my forked top into th'ethereall fire. For, didst thou taste the sweets that on my face doe breathe, Aboue thou wouldst not seeke what I enioy beneath: Besides, the sundry soyles I euery where survay, Make me, if better not, thy equall euerie way. And more, in our defence, to answere those, with spight That tearme vs barren, rude, and voide of all delight; Wee Mountaines, to the Land, like Warts or Wens to bee, By which, fair'st liuing things disfigur'd oft they see; This stronglie to performe, a well stuft braine would need. And manie Hills there be, if they this Cause would heed, Hauing their rising tops familiar with the skie (From whence all wit proceeds) that fitter were then I The taske to vnder-take. As not a man that sees Mounchdenny, Bloreneh hill, with Breedon, and the Clees, And many more as great, and neerer me then they, But thinks, in our defence they far much more could say. Yet, falling to my lot, This stoutlie I maintaine Gainst Forrests, Valleys, Fields, Groues, Riuers, Pasture, Plaine, And all their flatter kind (so much that doe relie Vpon their feedings, flocks, and their fertilitie) The Mountaine is the King: and he it is alone Aboue the other soyles that Nature doth in-throne. For Mountaines be like Men of braue heroïque mind, With eyes erect to heauen, of whence themselues they find; Whereas the lowlie Vale, as earthlie, like it selfe, Doth neuer further looke then how to purchase pelfe. And of their batfull sites, the Vales that boast them thus, Nere had been what they are, had it not been for vs: For, from the rising banks that stronglie mound them in, The Valley (as betwixt) her name did first begin: And almost not a Brooke, if shee her banks doe fill, But hath her plentious Spring from Mountaine or from Hill. If Mead, or lower Slade, grieue at the roome we take, Knowe that the snowe or raine, descending oft, doth make The fruitfully Valley fat, with what from vs doth glide, Who with our Winters waste maintaine their Sommers pride. And to you lower Lands if terrible wee seeme, And couer'd oft with clowds; it is your foggy steame The powerfull Sunne exhales, that in the cooler day Vnto this Region comne, about our tops doth stay. And, what's the Groue, so much that thinks her to be grac't, If not aboue the rest vpon the Mountaine plac't, Where shee her curled head vnto the eye may showe. For, in the easie Vale if shee be set belowe,

What is shee but obscure? and her more dampie shade And covert, but a Den for beasts of rayin made? Besides, wee are the Marks, which looking from an hie, The trauailer beholds, and with a cheerfull eye Doth thereby shape his course, and freshlie doth pursue The way which long before lay tedious in his view.

What Forrest, Flood, or Field, that standeth not in awe Of Sina, or shall see the sight that Mountaine saw? To none but to a Hill such grace was euer giuen: As on his back tis said, great Atlas beares vp heauen.

So Latmus by the wise Endymion is renown'd; That Hill, on whose high top he was the first that found * 1.470 Pale Phoebes wandring course; so skilfull in her Sphere, As some stick not to say that he enioy'd her there.

And those chaste maids, begot on Memorie by Ioue, Not Tempe onelie loue delighting in their Groue; Nor Helicon their Brooke, in whose delicious brims, They oft are vs'd to bathe their cleere and crystall lims; But high Parnassus haue, their Mountaine, whereon they Vpon their golden Lutes continuallie doe play. Of these I more could tell, to proue the place our owne, Then by his spatious Maps are by Ortellius showne.

For Mountaines this suffice. Which scarcelie had he told; Along the fertill fields, when Malverne might behold The Herefordian Floods, farre distant though they bee: For great men, as we find, a great way off can see. First, Frome with forhead cleare, by Bromyard that doth glide; And taking Loden in, their mixed streames doe guide, To meet their Soueraigne Lug, from the Radnorian Plaine At Prestayn comming in; where hee doth entertaine The Wadell, as along he vnder Derfold goes: Her full and lustie side to whom the Forrest showes, As to allure faire Lug, aboad with her to make.

Lug little Oney first, then Arro in doth take, At Lemster, for her VVooll whose Staple doth excell, And seemes to ouer-match the golden Phrygian Fell. Had this our Colchos been vnto the Ancients knowne, When Honor was her selfe, and in her glorie showne, He then that did commaund the Infantry of Greece, Had onely to our Ile adventur'd for this Fleece.

Where liues the man so dull, on Britains furthest shore, To whom did neuer sound the name of Lemster Ore? * 1.471 That with the Silke-wormes web for smalness doth compare: Wherein, the Winder showes his workmanship so rare As doth the Fleece excell, and mocks her looser clew; As neatlie bottom'd vp as Nature forth it drew;

Of each in high'st accompt, and reckoned here as fine, § As there th' Appulian fleece, or dainty Tarentyne. From thence his louely selfe for Wye he doth dispose, To view the goodly flockes on each hand as he goes; And makes his iourney short, with strange and sundry tales, Of all their wondrous things; and, not the least, of Wales; Of that prodigious Spring (him neighbouring as he past) That little Fishes bones continually doth cast. Whose reason whil'st he seekes industriously to knowe, A great way he hath gon, and Hereford doth showe Her rising Spires aloft, when as the Princely Wye; Him from his Muse to wake, arrests him by and by. Whose meeting to behold, with how well ordered grace Each other entertaines, how kindlie they embrace; For ioy, so great a shout the bordering Citie sent, That with the sound thereof, which thorough Haywood went, The Wood-Nymphs did awake that in the Forest won; To know the sudden cause, and presently they ron With lockes vncomb'd, for haste the louelie Wye to see (The floud that grac't her most) this daie should married be To that more louelie Lug; a Riuer of much fame, That in her wandering bankes should lose his glorious name. For Hereford, although her Wye she hold so deere, Yet Lug (whose longer course doth grace the goodlie Sheere, And with his plentious Streame so manie Brookes doth bring) Of all hers that be North is absolutelie King.

But Marcely, grieu'd that he (the neerest of the rest, And of the mountaine kind) not bidden was a guest Vnto this nuptiall Feast, so hardly it doth take, As (meaning for the same his station to forsake) § Inrag'd and mad with griefe, himselfe in two did riue; The Trees and Hedgesneere, before him vp doth driue, And dropping headlong downe three daies together fall: Which, bellowing as he went, the Rockes did so appall, That they him passage made, who Coats and Chappels crusht: So violentlie he into his Valley rusht. But Wye (from her deare Lug whom nothing can restraine, In many a pleasant shade, her ioy to entertaine) To Rosse her course directs; and right her * 1.472 name to showe, Oft windeth in her waie, as backe she meant to go. Meander, who is said so intricate to bee, Hath not so many turnes, nor crankling nookes as shee.

The Herefordian fields when welneare hauing past, As she is going forth, two sister Brookes at last That Soile her kindly sends, to guide her on her waie; Neat Gamar, that gets in swift Garran: which do lay

Their waters in one Banke, augmenting of her traine, To grace the goodlie Wye, as she doth passe by Deane.

Beyond whose equall Spring vnto the West doth lie The goodly Golden Vale, whose lushious sents do flie More free then Hyblas sweets; and twixt her bordering hils, The aire with such delights and delicacie fils, As makes it loth to stirre, or thence those smels to beare. Th'Hesperides scarce had such pleasures as be there: VVhich sometime to attaine, that mighty sonne of Ioue One of his Labors made, and with the Dragon stroue, That neuer clos'd his eies, the golden fruit to guard; As if t'enrich this place, from others, Nature spar'd: Banks crown'd with curled Groues, from cold to keepe the Plaine, Fields batfull, flowrie Meades, in state them to maintaine; Floods, to make fat those Meades, from Marble veines that spout, To shew, the wealth within doth answer that without. So braue a Nymph she is, in euery thing so rare, As to sit down by her, she thinkes there's none should dare. And forth she sends the Doire, vpon the Wye to wait. Whom Munno by the way more kindly doth intreat (For Eskle, her most lou'd, and Olcons onely sake) With her to go along, till Wye she ouertake. To whom she condiscends, from danger her to shield, That th'Monumethian parts from th'Heresordian field.

Which manly Maluern sees from furthest of the Sheere, On the Wigornian waste when Northward looking neere, On Corswood casts his eie, and on his a 1.473 home-born Chase, Then constantly beholds, with an vnusuall pase Team with her tribute come vnto the b 1.474 Cambrian Queene, Neere whom in all this place a Riuer's scarcely seene, That dare auouch her name; Teame scorning any Spring But what with her along from Shropshire she doth bring, Except one namelesse Streame that Maluern sends her in, And Laughern though but small: when they such grace that win, There thrust in with the Brookes inclosed in her Banke. Teame lastly thither com'n with water is so ranke, As though she would contend with Sabryne, and doth craue Of place (by her desert) precedencie to haue: Till chancing to behold the others godlike grace, So strongly is surpris'd with beauties in her face By no meanes she could hold, but needsly she must showe Her liking; and her selfe doth into Sabrine throwe.

Not farre from him againe when Maluern doth perceaue Two hils, which though their heads so high they doe not heaue, Yet duly do obserue great Maluern, and affoord Him reuerence: who againe, as fits a gratious Lord,

Vpon his Subiects looks, and equall praise doth giue That Woodberry so nigh and neighbourlie doth liue With Abberley his friend, deseruing well such fame That Saxton in his Maps forgot them not to name: Which, though in their meane types small matter doth appeare, Yet both of good account are reckned in the Shiere, And highly grac't of Teame in his proud passing by.

When soone the goodlie Wyre, that wonted was so hie Her statelie top to reare, ashamed to behold Her straight and goodlie Woods vnto the Fornace sold (And looking on her selfe, by her decay doth see The miserie wherein her sister Forrests bee) * 1.475 Of Erisicthons end begins her to bethinke, And of his cruell plagues doth wish they all might drinke That thus haue them dispoil'd: then of her owne despight; That shee, in whom her Towne faire Beudley tooke delight, And from her goodlie seat conceiu'd so great a pride, In Severne on her East, Wyre on the setting side, So naked left of woods, of pleasure, and forlorne, As she that lov'd her most, her now the most doth scorne; With endlesse griese perplext, her stubborne breast shee strake, And to the deafened ayre thus passionately spake;

You Driades, that are said with Oakes to liue and die, Wherefore in our distresse doe you our dwellings flie; Vpon this monstrous Age and not reuenge our wrong? For cutting downean Oake that iustlie did belong To one of Ceres Nymphes, in Thessaly that grew In the Dodonean Groue (O Nymphes!) you could pursue The sonne of Perops then, and did the Goddesse stirre That villanie to wreake the Tyrant did to her: Who, with a dreadfull frowne did blast the growing Graine: And hauing from him reft what should his life maintaine, Shee vnto Scythia sent, for Hunger, him to gnawe, And thrust her downe his throat, into his stanchlesse mawe: Who, when nor Sca nor Land for him susficient were, With his deuouring teeth his wretched 〈◊〉〈◊〉 did teare.

This did you for one Tree: but of whole 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they That in these impious times haue been the vile decay (Whom I may iustlie call their Countries deadly foes) Gainst them you moue no Power, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 spoyle 〈◊〉〈◊〉 goes. How manie grieued soules in futuretime shall starue, For that which they haue rapt their beastlie lust to serue!

VVee, sometime that the state of famous Britaine were, For whom she was renown'd in Kingdoms farre and neere, Are ransackt; and our Trees so hackt aboue the ground, That where their lostie tops their neighboring Countries crown'd,

Their Trunkes (like aged folkes) now bare and naked stand, As for reuenge to heauen each held a withered hand: And where the goodly Heards of high-palm'd Harts did gaze Vpon the passer by, there now doth onely graze The gall'd-backe carrion Iade, and hurtfull Swine do spoile Once to the Syluan Powers our consecrated soile.

This vttered she with griefe: and more she would haue spoke: When the Salopian floods her of her purpose broke, And silence did enioyne; a listning eare to lend To Seuerne, which was thought did mighty things intend.

Illustrations.

THe Muse yet houers ouer Wales, and here sings the inner territories, with part of the Seuerne storie, and her English neighbors.

That fraught from plentious Powse with their superfluous wast Manure the batfull March—

Wales (as is before touched) diuided into three parts, North-Wales, South-Wales and Powise; this last is heere meant, comprising part of Brecknock, Rad∣nor, * 1.476 and Montgomery. The diuision hath its beginning attributed to the three sonnes of a 1.477 Roderique the Great, Meruin, Cadelh, and Anarawt, who possest them for their portions hereditary, as they are named. But out of an old booke of * 1.478 Welsh lawes, Dauid Powel affirmes those tripartite titles more ancient. I know that the diuision and gift is different in Caradoe Lancharuan from that of Girald; but no great consequence of admitting either here. Those three Princes were called in British * 1.479 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 because b 1.480 cuery of them ware vpon his Bonet or Helmet, a Coronet of gold, being a broad lace or head∣band, * 1.481 indented vpward set and wrought with pretious stones, which in British or Welsh is call'd 〈◊〉〈◊〉, which name Nurses giue to the vpper band on a childes head. Ofthis forme (I meane of a band or wreath) were the ancientest of crownes, as appeares in the description of the Cidaris, and Tiara of the Persi∣ans in Ctesias, Q. Curtius, and Xenophon, the crownes of Oake, Grasse, Parsley, O∣liues, Myrtle, and such among the Greekes and Ramanee, and in that expresse name of Diadema, signifying a Band, of which, whether it haue in our tongue community with that Banda, deriued out of the c 1.482 Sarian into Italian, expres∣sing victory, and so, forominous good words, is translated to Ensignes and Standards (as in oriental Stories the words 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 often shew) I must not heere inquire. Molmutius first d 1.483 vsed a golden Crowne among the British, and, as it seemes by the same authority, Athelstan among the Saxons. But I di∣gresse. By the March vnderstand those limits betweene England and Wales; which continuing from North to South, ioyne the Welsh Shires to Hereford, Shropshire and the English part, and were diuers Haronies, diuided from any Shirevntill e 1.484 Hen. VIII by act of Parliament annexed some to Wales, other to England. The Barons that liued in them were called Lord Marchers, and by the name of f 1.485 Marchiones, I Marquesses. For so Roger of g 1.486 Mortimer, Iames of Au∣deleg, Roger of Clifford, Roger of Leiburn, Haime L'estrange, Hugh of Turberuil, (which by sword aduentured the ransom of Henry III out of Simon of Montfort his treacherous imprisonment, after the battell of Lewes) are called * 1.487 Marchio∣nes

Walliae; and Edward III. created Roger of Mortimer Earle of March, as if you should say, of the Limits twixt Wales & England, Marc, or Merc, signifying a bound or limit: as to the III. Song more largely. And hence is supposed the originall of that honorary title of Marquesse, which is as much as a Lord of the * 1.488 Frontiers, or such like; although I know diuers other are the deriuations which the a 1.489 Feudists haue imagined. These Marchers had their lawes in their Baro∣nies, and for matter of suit, if it had beene twixt Tenants holding of them, then was it commenced in their owne Courts and determined; if for the Barony it selfe, then in the Kings Court at Westminster, by Writ directed to the Shrife of the next English Shire adioyning, as Glocester, Hereford, and some other: For the Kings * 1.490 Writ did not runne in Wales as in England, vntill by Statute the Princi∣pality was incorporated with the Crowne; as appeares in an old b 1.491 report where one was committed for esloigning a Ward into Wales, extra potestatem Regis vnder Hen. III. Afterward c 1.492 Ed. I. made some Shires in it, and altred the customs, conforming them in some sort to the English, as in the Statute of Ruthlan you haue it largely; and vnder Ed. II. to a d 1.493 Parliament at Yorke were summoned XXIIII. out of North-Wales, and as many out of South-Wales. But notwith∣standing all this, the Marches continued as distinct; and in them were, for the most part, those controuerted titles, which in our Law. annals are referred to Wales. For the diuided Shires were, as it seemes, or should haue beene subiect to the English forme; but the particulars hereof are vnfit for this roome: if you are at all conuersant in our law, I send you to my e 1.494 margine; if not, it scarce con∣cernes you.

—the Higre wildly raues.

This violence, of the waters madnes, declared by the Author, is so exprest in an old f 1.495 Monke, which about CCCC. yeares since, sayes it was called the Higre in English. To make more description of it, were but to resolue the authors Poem.

Within her hollow woods the Satyrs that did wonne.

By the Satyrs rauishing the Sea-Nymphs into this maritime Forest of Deane (lying betweene Wye and Seuerne in Glocester) with Seuernes suit to Neptune, and his prouision of remedy, you haue, poetically describ'd, the rapines which were committed along that shore, by such as lurked in these shadie receptacles, which he properly titles Satyr's, that name comming from an Easterne * 1.496 root, signifying to hide, or lie hid, as that * 1.497 All-knowing Isaac Casaubon hath at large (among other his vnmeasurable benefits to the state of learning) taught vs. The English were also ill intreated by the Welsh in their passages here, vntill by act of Parliament remedie was giuen; as you may see in the g 1.498 statutes pream∣ble, which satisfies the fiction.

Whilst Maluerne K. of Hils faire Seuerne ouer-looks.

Hereford and Worcester are by these hils seauen miles in length confined; and rather, in respect of the adiacent vales, then the hils selfe, vnderstand the attribute of excellency. Vpon these is the supposed vision of Piers Plowmā, don, as is thought, by Robert h 1.499 Langland, a Shropshire man, in a kind of English mee∣ter: which for discouery of the infecting corruptions of those times, I prefer before many more seemingly serious inuectiues, as well for inuention as iudgement.

As there th'Apulian fleece, or dainty Tarentine.

In Apuglia and the vpper Calabria of Italy, the Wooll hath beene euer fa∣mous for i 1.500 finest excellence: in so much that for preseruing it from the iniury of earth, bushes, and weather, the Sheepheards vsed to clothe their Sheep with skinnes; and indeed was so chargeable in these and other kind of paines about it, that it scarce required cost.

—him selfe in two did riue.

Alluding to a prodigious diuision of Marcly hill, in an earth-quake of late k 1.501 time; which most of all was in these parts of the Island.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The eight Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

The goodly Severne brauely sings The noblest of her British Kings; At Caesars landing what we were, And of the Roman Conquests here: Then shewes, to her deare Britans fame, How quicklie christned they became; And of their constancie doth boast, In sundry for tunes strangely tost: Then doth the Saxons landing tell, And how by them the Britans fell; Cheeres the Salopian Mountaines hie, That on the west of Severne lie; Calls downe each Riueret from her Spring, Their Queene vpon her way to bring; Whom downe to Bruge the Muse attends: Where, leauing her, this Song shee ends.

TO Salop when her selfe cleere Sabrine comes to showe, And wisely her bethinks the way shee had to goe, South-west-ward casts her course; & with an amorous eye Those Countries whence shee came, survayeth (passing by) Those Lands in Ancient times old Cambria claym'd her due, For refuge when to her th'oppressed Britans flew; By England now vsurp't, who (past the wonted Meeres, Her sure and soueraigne banks) had taken sundry Sheeres, Which shee her Marches made: whereby those Hills of fame And Riuers stood disgrac't; accounting it their shame, § That all without that Mound which Mercian Offa cast To runne from North to South, athwart the Cambrian wast, Could England not suffice, but that the stragling Wye, Which in the hart of Wales was some-time said to lye, Now onely for her bound proud England did prefer. That Severne, when shee sees the wrong thus offred her,

Though by iniurious Time depriued of that place VVhich anciently shee held: yet loth that her disgrace Should on the Britans light, the Hills and Riuers neere Austerely to her calls, commaunding them to heare In her deere childrens right (their Ancesters of yore, Now thrust betwixt her selfe, and the Virginian shore, § Who draue the Giants hence that of the Earth were bred, And of the spacious Ile became the soueraigne head) VVhat from autentique bookes shee liberally could say. Of which whilst shee bethought her; West-ward euery way, The Mountaines, Floods, and Meeres, to silence them betake: When Severne lowting lowe, thus grauely them bespake;

Hovv mightie was that man, and honoured still to bee, That gaue this Ile his name, and to his children three, Three Kingdoms in the same? vvhich, time doth now denie, With his arriuall heere, and primer Monarchy.

a 1.502 〈◊〉〈◊〉, though thou canst thy Locrine easely lose, Yet b 1.503 Cambria, him, whom Fate her ancient Founder chose, In no wise will forgoe; nay, should c 1.504 Albania leaue § Her Albanact for ayde, and to the Scythian cleaue. And though remorselesse Rome, which first did vs enthrall, As barbarous but esteem'd, and stickt not so to call; The ancient Britans yet asceptred King obey'd § Three hundred yeeres before Romes great foundation laid; And had a thousand yeeres an Empire strongly stood, Ere Caesar to her shores here stemd the circling Flood; § And long before, borne Armes against the barbarous Hun, Heere landing with intent the Ile to ouer-run: And following them in flight, their Generall Humber drownd In that great arme of Sea, by his great name renown'd; And her great Builders had, her Citties who did reare With Fanes vnto her Gods, and a 1.505 Flamins euery where. Nor Troynouant alone a Citty long did stand; But after, soone againe by Ebranks powerfull hand Yorke lifts her Towers aloft: which scarcely finisht was, But as they, by those Kings; so by Rudhudibras, Kents first and famous b 1.506 Towne, with Winchester, arose: And other, others built, as they fit places chose.

So Britaine to her praise, of all conditions brings; The warlike, as the wise. Of her courageous Kings, Brute Green-shield: to whose name we prouidence impure, Diuinely to reviue the Land's first Conqueror, Brute.

So had she those were learn'd, endu'd with nobler parts: As, he from learned Greece, that (by the liberall Arts) § To Stamford, in this Ile, seem'd Athens to transfer; Wise Bladud, of her Kings that great Philosopher;

VVho found our boyling Bathes; and in his knowledge hie, Disdaining humane paths, heere practiced to flie.

Of iustly vexed Leire, and those who last did tug In worse then Ciuill warre, the a 1.507 sonnes of Gorbodug (By whose vnnaturall strife the Land so long was tost) I cannot stay to tell, nor shall my Britaine boast; But, of that man which did her Monarchy restore, Her first imperiall Crowne of gold that euer wore, And that most glorious type of soueraignty regain'd; Mulmutius: who this Land in such estate maintain'd As his great Bel-sire Brate from Albions heires it wonne.

§ This Grand-child, great as he, those foure proud Streets begun That each way crosse this Ile, and bounds did them allow. Like priuiledge he lent the T emple and the Plow: So studious was this Prince in his most forward zeale To the Celestiall power, and to the Publique weale.

Bellinus he begot, who Dacia proud subdu'd; * 1.508 And Brennus, who abroad a worthier warre pursu'd, Asham'd of ciuill strife; at home heere leauing all: And with such goodly Youth, in Germany and Gaul As he had gather'd vp, the Alpin Mountaines past, And brauely on the banks of fatall Allia chas't The Romans (that her streame distained with their gore) And through proud Rome, display'd his British Ensigne bore: § There, ballancing his sword against her baser gold, The Senators for slaues hee in her Forum sold. At last, by power expell'd, yet proud of late successe, His forces then for Greece did instantly addresse; And marching with his men vpon her fruitfull face, Made Macedon first stoope; then The ssaly, and Thrace; His souldiers there enricht with all Peonia's spoyle; And where to Greece he gaue the last and deadliest foyle, In that most dreadfull fight, on that more dismall day, O'rthrew their vt most prowesse at sad Thermopyle; And daring of her Gods, adventur'd to haue tane Those sacred things enshrin'd in wise Apollo's Fane: To whom when thundring Heauen pronounc't her fearefulst word, § Against the Delphian Power he shak't his irefull sword.

As of the British blood, the natiue Cambri here (So of my Cambria call'd) those valiant Cymbri were (When Britaine with her brood so peopled had her seat, The soyle could not suffice, it daily grew so great) Of Denmarke who themselues did anciently possesse, And to that straitned poynt, that vtmost Chersonesse, § My Countries name bequeath'd; whence Cymbrica it tooke: Yet long were not compriz'd within that little nooke,

But with those Almaine powers this people issued forth: And like some boystrous wind arising from the North, Came that vnwieldie host; that, which way it did moue, The very burthenous earth before it seem'd to shoue, And onely meant to claime the Vniuerse its owne. In this terrestriall Globe, as though some vvorld vnknowne, By pampred Natures store too prodigally fed (And surfetting there-with) her surcrease vomited, These roaming vp and downe to seeke some setling roome, First like a Deluge fell vpon Illyricum, And with his Roman powers Papyrius ouer-threw; Then, by great * 1.509 Belus brought against those Legions, slew Their forces which in France Aurelius Scaurus led; And afterward againe, as brauely vanquished The Consulls Caepio, and stout Manlius on the Plaine, Where Rhodanus was red with blood of Latines slaine.

In greatnes next succeeds Belinus worthy sonne, Gurgustus: who soone left what his great Father wonne, To Guynteline his heire: whose a 1.510 Queene, beyond her kind, In her great husbands peace, to shew her vpright mind, § To wise Mulmutius lawes, her Martian first did frame: From which we ours deriue, to her eternall fame.

So Britaine forth with these, that valiant Bastard brought, Morindus, Danius sonne, which with that Monster fought * 1.511 His subiects that deuour'd; to shew himselfe againe Their Martyr, who by them selected was to raigne.

So Britaine likewise boasts her Elidure the iust, Who with his people was of such especiall trust, That (Archigallo falne into their generall hate, And by their powerfull hand depriu'd of kingly state) Vnto the Regall Chayre they Elidure aduanc't: But long he had not raign'd, ere happily it chanc't, In hunting of a Hart, that in the Forrest wild, The late deposed King, himselfe who had exil'd From all resort of men, iust Elidure did meet; Who much vnlike himselfe, at Elidurus feet, Him prostrating with teares, his tender breast so strooke, That he (the British rule who lately on him tooke At th'earnest peoples pray'rs) him calling to the Court, There Archigallo's wrongs so liuely did report, Relating (in his right) his lamentable case, With so effectuall speech imploring their high grace, That him they reinthron'd; in peace who spent his dayes.

Then Elidure againe, crown'd with applausiue praise, As he a brother rais'd, by brothers was depos'd, And put into the Towre: where miserably inclos'd,

Out-liuing yet their hate, and the Vsurpers dead, Thrice had the British Crowne set on his reuerend head.

When more then thirty Kings in faire succession came Vnto that mighty Lud, in whose eternall name § Great London still shall liue (by him rebuilded) while To Citties she remaines the Soueraigne of this Ile.

And when commaunding Rome to Caesar gaue the charge, Her Empire (but too great) still further to enlarge With all beyond the Alpes; the aydes he found to passe From these parts into Gaul, shew'd heere some Nation was Vndaunted that remain'd with Romes so dreadfull name, That durst presume to ayde those shee decreed to tame. Wherefore that matchlesse man, whose high ambition wrought Beyond her Empires bounds, by shipping wisely sought (Heere proling on the shores) this Iland to disery, What people her possest, how fashion'd shee did lie: Where scarce a Strangers foote defil'd her virgin breast, Since her first Conqueror Brute heere put his powers to rest; Onely some little Boats, from Gaul that did her feed With tryfles, which shee tooke for nicenesse more then need: But as another world, with all abundance blest, And satisfi'd with what shee in her selfe possest; Through her excessiue wealth (at length) till wanton growne, Some Kings (with others Lands that would enlarge their owne) By innovating Armes an open passage made For him that gap't for all (the Roman) to invade. Yet with grim-visag'd Warre when he her shores did greet, And terriblest did threat with his amazing Fleet, Those British bloods he found, his force that durst assaile, And poured from the Cleeues their shafts like showers of haile Vpon his helmed head; to tell him as he came, That they (from all the world) yet feared not his name: Which, their vndaunted spirits soone made that Conquer or feele, Oft ventring their bare breasts gainst his oft-bloodied steele; And in their Chariots charg'd: which they with wondrous skill Could turne in their swift'st course vpon the steepest hill, And wheele about his troopes for vantage of the ground, Orelse disranke his force where entrance might be found: And from their Armed seats their thrilling Darts could throwe; Or nimblie leaping downe, their valiant swords bestowe, And with an actiue skip remount themselues againe, Leauing the Roman horse behind them on the Plaine, And beat him back to Gaul his forces to supply; As they the Gods of Rome and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 did defie.

Cassibalan renown'd, the Britans faithfull guide, Who when th'Italian powers could no way be deny'd,

But would this Ile subdue; their forces to fore-lay, Thy Forrests thou didst fell, their speedy course to stay: §. Those armed stakes in Tames that stuckst, their horse to gore Which boldly durst attempt to forrage on thy shore: Thou such hard entrance heere to Caesar didst allow, To whom (thy selfe except) the Westerne world did bow. §. And more then Caesar got, three Emperours could not win, Till the courageous sonnes of our Cunobelin Sunke vnder Plautius sword, sent hither to discusse The former Roman right, by Armes againe, with vs. Nor with that Consull ioyn'd, Vespaesian could prevaile In thirty seuerall fights, nor make them stoope their saile. Yea, had not his braue sonne, young Titus, past their hopes, His forward Father fetcht out of the British troopes, And quit him wondrous well when he was strongly charg'd, His Father (by his hands so valiantly enlarg'd) Had neuer more seene Rome; nor had he euer spilt The Temple that wise sonne of faithfull Dauid built, Subverted those high walls, and lay'd that Cittie wast Which God, in humane flesh, aboue all other grac't.

No maruaile then though Rome so great her conquest thought, In that the Ile of Wight shee to subiection brought, Our * 1.512 Belgae and subdu'd (a people of the West) That latest came to vs, our least of all the rest; When Claudius, who that time her wreath imperiall wore, Though scarce he shew'd himselfe vpon our Southerne shore, It scornd not in his stile; but, due to that his praise, Triumphall Arches claim'd, and to haue yeerely Playes; The noblest Nauall Crowne, vpon his Palace pitcht; As with the Oceans spoyle his Rome who had enricht.

Her Caradock (with cause) so Britaine may prefer; Then whom, a brauer spirit was nere brought forth by her: For whilst here in the VVest the Britans gather'd head, This Generall of the rest, his stout a 1.513 Silures led Against Ostorius, sent by Caesar to this place With Romes high fortune (then the high'st in Fortunes grace) A long and doubtfull warre with whom he did maintaine, Vntill that houre wherein his valiant Britans slaine Hee grieuously beheld (o'represt with Roman power) Himselfe wel-neere the last their wrath did not deuour. VVhen (for reuenge, not feare) he fled (as trusting most, Another day might win, what this had lately lost) To Cartismandua, Queene of b 1.514 Brigants for her ayde, He to his foes, by her, most falsely was betray'd. Who, as a spoyle of warre, t'adorne the Triumph sent To great Ostorius due, when through proud Rome hee went,

That had her selfe prepar'd (as shee had all been eyes) Our Caradock to view; who in his Countries guise, §. Came with his bodie nak't, his haire downe to his waste, Girt with a chaine of steele, his manly breast inchaste With sundry shapes of 〈◊〉〈◊〉. And when this Britaine saw His wife and children bound as slanes, it could not awe His manlinesse at all: but with a setled grace, Vndaunted with her pride, hee lookt her in the face: And with a speech so graue as well a Prince became, Himselfe and his redeem'd, to our eternall fame.

Then Romes great * 1.515 Tyrant next, the lasts adopted heire, That braue Suetonius sent, the British Coasts to cleere; The vtter spoyle of a 1.516 Mon who strongly did pursue (Vnto whose gloomy strengths, th'reuolted Britans flew) There entring, hee beheld what strooke him pale with dread: The frantick British Froes, their haire disheuelled, With fire-brands ran about, like to their furious eyes; And from the hollow vvoods the fearlefse Druides; VVho with their direfull threats, and execrable vowes, Inforc't the troubled heauen to knit her angry browes.

And as heere in the West the Romans brauely wan, So all vpon the East the Britans ouer-ran: §. The Colony long kept at Mauldon, ouerthrowne, VVhich by prodigious signes was many times fore-showne, And often had dismai'd the Roman souldiers: when Braue Voadicia made with her resolued'st men To a 1.517 Virolam; vvhose siege with fire and sword she pli'd, Till leueld with the earth. To London as shee hy'd, The Consull comming in with his auspicious ayde, The Queene (to quit her yoke no longer that delay'd) Him dar'd by dint of sword, it hers or his to try, With words that courage show'd, and vvith a voice as hie (In her right hand her Launce, and in her left her Shield, As both the Battells stood prepared in the Field) Incouraging her men: which resolute, as strong, Vpon the Roman rusht; and shee, the rest among, Wades in that doubtfull warre: till lastly, when she saw The fortune of the day vnto the Roman draw, The Queene (t'out-liue her friends who highly did disdaine, And lastly, for proud Rome a Triumph to remaine) §. By poyson ends her dayes, vnto that end prepar'd, As lauishly to spend what Suetonius spar'd.

Him scarcely Rome recall'd, such glory hauing wonne, But brauely to proceed, as erst she had begunne, Agricola heere made her great Lieurenant then: Who hauing setled Mon, that man of all her men,

Appointed by the Powers apparantly to see The wearied Britans sinke, and easely in degree Beneath his fatall sword the a 1.518 Or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to fall Inhabiting the West, those people last of all VVhich stoutl'est him with-stood, renown'd for Martiall worth.

Thence leading on his powers vnto the vtmost North, When all the Townes that lay betwixt our Trent and Tweed, Suffic'd not (by the way) his wasteful fires to feed, He there some Britans found, who (to rebate their spleene, As yet with grieued eyes our spoyles not hauing seene) Him at b 1.519 Mount Grampus met: which from his height beheld Them lauish of their liues; who could not be compeld The Roman yoke to beare: and Galgacus their guide Amongst his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 troupes there resolutely di'd.

Eight Roman Emperours raign'd since first that warre began; Great Iulius Caesar first, the last Domitian. A hundred thirtie yeeres the Northerne Britans still, That would in no wise stoupe to Romes imperious will, Into the straitned Land with theirs retired farre, In lawes and manners since from vs that different are; And with the Irish Pict, which to their ayde they drew (On them oft breaking in, who long did them pursue) § A greater foe to vs in our owne bowels bred, Then Rome, with much expense that vs had conquered.

And when that we great 〈◊〉〈◊〉 so much in time were growne, That shee her charge durst leaue to Princes of our owne, (Such as, vvithin our selues, our suffrage should elect) § Avirague, borne ours, heere first she did protect; Who faithfully and long, of labour did her ease.

Then he, our Flamins seats who turn'd to Bishops seas; Great Lucius, that good King: to vvhom we chiefly owe § This happinesse vve haue, Christ crucifi'd to knowe.

As Britaine to her praise receiu'd the Christian faith, After (that Word-made Man) our deere Redeemers death VVithin two hundred yeeres; and his Disciples heere, By their great Maister sent to preach him euery where, Most reuerently receiu'd, their doctrine and preferd; Interring him, c 1.520 who earst the Sonne of God interd.

So Britans was she borne, though Italy her crown'd, Of all the Christian world that Empresse most renown'd, § Constantius vvorthy wife; who scorning worldly losse, Her selfe in person went to seeke that sacred Crosse, VVhereon our Sauiour di'd: which found, as it was sought, From d 1.521 Salem vnto Rome triumphantly she brought.

As vvhen the Primer Church her Counsailes pleas'd to call, Great Britains Bishops there were not the least of all;

§ Against the Arian Sect at Arles hauing roome, At Sardica againe, and at Ariminum.

Now, when with various Fate fiue hundred yeeres had past, And Rome of her great charge grew weary heere at last; The Vandalls, Goths, and Huns, that with a powerfull head All Italy and France had wel-neare ouer-spred, To much-endanger'd Rome sufficient warning gaue, Those forces that shee held, within her selfe to haue. The Roman rule from vs then vtterly remou'd.

Whilst, we, in sundry Fields, our sundry fortunes prou'd VVith the remorselesse Pict, still wasting vs with warre. And twixt the froward Sire, licentious Vortiger, And his too forward sonne, young Vortimer, arose Much strife within our selues, whilst heere they interpose By turns each others raignes; whereby, we weakned grew. The warlike Saxon then into the Land we drew; A Nation nurst in spoyle, and fitt'st to vndergoe Our cause against the Pict, our most inveterate foe.

When they, which we had hyr'd for souldiers to the shore, Perceiu'd the wealthy Ile to wallow in her store, And suttly had found out how vve infeebled were; They, vnder false pretence of amitie and cheere, The British Peeres invite, the German Healths to view At Stonehenge; where they them vnmercifully slew.

Then, those of Brutes great blood, of Armorick posseft, Extreamly grieu'd to see their kinsmen so distrest, Vs offred to relieue, or else with vs to die: VVee, after, to requite their noble curtesie, § Eleuen thousand may ds sent those our friends againe, In wedlock to be linkt with them of Brute's high Straine; That none with Brutes great blood, but Britans might be mixt: Such friendship euer was the stock of Troy betwixt. Out of vvhose ancient race, that warlike Arthur sprong: Whose most renowned Acts shall sounded be as long As Britains name is known: which spred themselues so wide, As scarcely hath for fame left any roomth beside.

My Wales, then hold thine owne, and let thy Britains stand Vpon their right, to be the noblest of the Land. Thinke how much better tis, for thee, and those of thine, From Gods, and Heroës old to drawe your famous line, § Then from the Scythian poore; whence they themselues deriue Whose multitudes did first you to the Mountaines driue. Nor let the spacious Mound of that great Mercian King (Into a lesser roomth thy burlinesse to bring) Include thee; when my Selfe, and my deere brother Dee, * 1.522 By nature were the bounds first limited to thee.

Scarce ended shee her speech, but those great Mountaines neere, Vpon the Cambrian part that all for Brutus were, VVith her high truths inflam'd, look't euery one about To find their seuerall Springs; and bad them get them out, And in their fulness waite vpon their soueraigne Flood, In Britains ancient right so brauely that had stood.

When first the furious Teame, that on the Cambrian side Doth Shropshire as a Meere from Hereford diuide, As worthiest of the rest; so worthily doth craue That of those lesser Brooks the leading she might haue; The first of which is 〈◊〉〈◊〉, that to her Mistris came: Which of a * 1.523 Forrest borne that beares her proper name, Vnto the Golden Vale and anciently ally'd, Of euery thing of both, sufficiently supply'd, The longer that she growes, the more renowne doth win: And for her greater State, next Bradfield bringeth in, VVhich to her wider banks resignes a weaker streame.

When fiercely making forth, the strong and lustie Teame A friendly Forest Nymph (nam'd Mocktry) doth imbrace, Her selfe that brauely beares; twixt whom and Bringwood-Chase, Her banks with many a wreath are curiously bedeckt, And in their safer shades they long time her protect.

Then takes shee Oney in, and forth from them doth fling: VVhen to her further ayde, next Bowe, and Warren, bring Cleere Quenny; by the way, which Stradbrooke vp doth take: By whose vnited powers, their Teame they mightier make; Which in her liuely course to Ludlowe comes at last, Where Corue into her streame her selfe doth head-long cast. VVith due attendance next, comes Ledwich and the Rhea.

Then speeding her, as though sent post vnto the Sea, Her natiue Shropshire leaues, and bids those Townes adiew, Her onely foueraigne Queene, proud Severne to pursue.

When at her going out, those Mountaines of command (The Clees, like louing Twinnes, and Stitterston that stand) Trans-Seuerned, behold faire England tow'rds the rise, And on their setting side, how ancient Cambria lies. Then Stipperston a hill, though not of such renowne As many that are set heere tow'rds the going downe, To those his owne Allyes, that stood not farre away, Thus in behalfe of Wales directly seem'd to say;

Deare Corndon, my delight, as thou art lov'd of mee, And Breeden, as thou hop'st a Britaine thought to bee, To Cortock strongly cleaue, as to our ancient friend, And all our vtmost strength to Cambria let vs lend. For though that envious Time iniuriously haue wroong From vs those proper names did first to vs belong,

Yet for our Country still, stout Mountaines let vs stand.

Here, euery neighbouring Hill held vp a willing hand, As freely to applaud what Stipperston decreed: And Hockstow when she heard the Mountaines thus proceed, With ecchoes from her Woods, her in ward ioyes exprest, To heare that Hill she lov'd, which likewise lov'd her best, Should in the right of Wales, his neighbouring Mountaines stirre, So to aduance that place which might them both preferre; That she from open shouts could scarce her selfe refraine.

When soone those other Rils to Seuerne which retaine, And't ended not on Teame, thus of themselues do showe The seruice that to her they absolutely owe. First Camlet commeth in, a Mountgomerian mayde, Her source in Seuerns bankes that safely hauing layd, Mele, her great Mistris next at Shrewsbury doth meet, To see with what a grace she that faire towne doth greet; Into what sundry gyres her wondered selfe she throwes, And oft in-Iles the shore, as wantonly she flowes; Of it, oft taking leaue, oft turnes, it to imbrace; As though she onely were enamored of that place, Her fore-intended course determined to leaue, And to that most lov'd Towne eternally to cleaue: With much ado at length, yet bidding it adue, Her iourney towards the Sea doth seriously pursue. VVhere, as along the shores she prosperously doth sweepe, Smali Marbrooke maketh-in, to her inticing Deepe. And as she lends her eye to * 1.524 Bruge's loftie sight, That Forest-Nymph milde Morffe doth kindly her inuite To see within her shade what pastime she could make: VVhere she, of Shropshire; I my leaue of Seuerne take.

Illustrations.

STill are you in the Welsh March, and the Chorographie of this song includes itselfe, for the most, within Shropshires part ouer Seuerne.

That all without the Mound that Mercian Offa cast.

Of the Marches in generall you haue to the next before. The a 1.525 particular bounds haue beene certaine parts of Dee, Wye, Seuerne, and Offas Dike. The an∣cientest is Seuerne, but a later is obserued in a right line from * 1.526 Strigoil-Castle vpon Wye, to Chester vpon Dee, which was so naturally a Meere betweene these two Countries VVales and England, that by apparant change of its channell to∣wards eyther side superstitious iudgement was vsed to be giuen of successe in * 1.527 the following yeares battels of both nations; whence perhaps came it to bee call'd Holy Dee, as the author also often vses. Twixt the mouth's of Dee and VVye in this line (almost C. miles long) was that Offas Dike cast, after such time as he had besides his before possest Mercland, acquired by conquest euen al∣most what is now England. King Harold b 1.528 made a law, that whatsoeuer Welsh

transcended this Dike with any kind of weapon should haue, vpon apprehensi∣on, his right hand cut off; Athelstan after conquest of Howel 'Dha K. of Wales made Wye limit of North-wales, as in regard of his chiefe territory of West Saxonie (so affirmes Malmesbury) which well vnderstood impugnes the opini∣on receiued for VVies being a generall Meere instituted by him, and withall shewes you how to mend the Monkes published text, where you read * 1.529 Ludwa∣lumregem Omnium Wallensium, & Constantinum regem Scotorum cedere regnis compulit. For plainely this Ludwal (by whom he meanes Howel Dha in other Chronicles call'd Huwal) in Athelstans life time was not King of All Wales, but only of the South and Westerne parts with Powis, his cozen Edwall Voel then hauing Northwales; twixt which and the part of Howell conquered, this limit was proper to distinguish. Therefore eyther read * 1.530 Occidentalium Wallensium (for in Florence of Worcester and Roger of Houeden that passage is with * 1.531 Occi∣dentalium Britonnum) or else beleeue that Malmesbury mistooke Howel to be in Athelstans time, as he was after his death, sole Prince of all Wales. In this con∣iecture I had aide from Lhancaruans History, which in the same page (as lear∣ned Lhuids edition in English is) sayes, that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 made the Riuer * 1.532 Cambia the frontier towards Cornwall: but there, in requitall, I correct him, and read Tambra. i. Tamar, diuiding Deuonshire and Cornwall; as Malmesbury hath it expresly, and the matter-selfe enough perswades.

Who draue the Giants hence, that of the earth were bred.

Somewhat of the Giants to the first Song; fabulously supposed begotten by Spirits vpon Dioclesians or Danaus daughters. But here the Author aptly tearms them bred of the Earth, both for that the antiquities of the Gentiles made the first inhabitants of most countries as produced out of the soile, calling them Aborigines and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, as also for imitation of those Epithets of 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. and a 1.533 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 among the Greeks, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 among the Latins, the very name of Giants being thence b 1.534 deriued, * 1.535 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Which 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I shall thinke abus'd the Heathen vpon their ill vnderstan∣ding of Adams creation c 1.536 and allegorique greatnes, touched before out of Ie∣wish Fiction.

Her Albanact; for aide, and to the Scythian cleaue.

Britaines tripartit diuision by Brutes III. sonnes, Logrin, Camber and Alba∣nact, whence all beyond Seuerne was stil'd Cambria, the now England Loegria, and Scotland Albania, is here shewed you: which I admit, but as the rest of that nature, vpon credit of our suspected Stories followed with sufficient iustificati∣on by the Muse; alluding here to that opinion which deduces the Scots and their name from the Seythians. Arguments of this likelyhoud haue you large∣ly * 1.537 in our most excellent Antiquary. I onely adde, that by tradition of the Scy∣thians themselues, they had very anciently a generall name, titling them d 1.538 Sco∣lots (soone contracted into Scots) whereas the Graecians call'd the Northerne all e 1.539 Scythians, perhaps the originall of that name being from Shooting; for which they were especially through the world famous, as you may see in most passages of their name in old Poets; and that Lucians title of Toxaris, is, as if you should say, an Archer. For, the word shoote being at first of the Tentonique (which was very likely disperst largely in the Northerne parts) anciently was written neerer Schyth, as among other testimonies, the name of f 1.540 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. i. the shooting finger, for the forefinger among our g 1.541 Saxons.

Three hundred yeares before Romes great foundation laid.

Take this with latitude: for betweene AEneas Syluius King of the Latins, vnder whose time Brute is placed, to Numitor, in whose II. yeare Rome was built, intercedes aboue CCC. XL. and with such difference vnderstand the Thousand vntill Caesar.

And long before borne armes against the barbarous Hun.

Our stories tell you of Humber King of Huns (a people that being Scythian, liued about those a 1.542 parts which you now call Mar delle Zabach) his attempt and victorie against Albanact, conflict with Logrin, and death in this Riuer, from whence they will the name. Distance of his country, and the vnlikely relation weakens my historicall faith. Obserue you also the first transmigra∣tion of the Huns, mentioned by Procopius, Agathias, others, and you will think this very different from truth. And well could I thinke by coniecture (with a great b 1.543 Antiquary) that the name was first (or thence deriued) * 1.544 habren or Aber which in British, as appeares by the names Abergeuenni, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Aberhodni signifying the fall of the Riuer Geuenni, Tewi, Rhodni, is as much as a c 1.545 Riuers mouth in English, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 itselfe specially., in that most of the Yorkeshire Riuers here cast themselues into one confluence for the Ocean. Thus perhaps was Seuerne first Hafren, and not from the maide there drown'd, as you haue be∣fore; but for that, this no place.

To Stamford in this Isle seem'd Athens to transferre.

Looke to the III Song for more of Bladud and his Bath's. Some testimony d 1.546 is, that he went to Athens, brought thence with him IV. Philosophers, and in∣stituted by them a Vniuersity at Stanford in Lincolueshire; But, of any perswa∣ding credit I finde none. Onely of later time, that profession of learning was there, authority is frequent. For when through discording parts among the Schollars (raigning Ed. III.) a diuision in Oxford was into the Northerne and Southerne faction, the Northerne (before vnder Hen. III. also was the like to Northampton) made secession to this Stamford, and there profest, vntill vpon humble suite by Robert of Stratford, Chauncelor of Oxford, the K, e 1.547 by edict, and his owne presence, prohibited them, whence, afterward, also was that Oth taken by Oxford Graduats, that they should not professe at Stamford. White of Basingstoch otherwise 〈◊〉〈◊〉 at the cause of this difference, making it the Pe∣lagian heresie, and of more ancient time, but erroniously. Vnto this referre that suppos'd prophesie of Merlin:
Doctrinae studium quod nunc viget ad * 1.548 vada Boum
Ante finem 〈◊〉〈◊〉 celebrabitur ad * 1.549 vada Saxi.
Which you shall haue Englished in that solemnized marriage of Thames and Medway, by a most admired f 1.550 Muse of our nation, thus with aduantage:
And after him the fat all Welland went,
That, if old sawes proue true (which God farbid)
Shall drowne all * 1.551 Holland with his excrement,
And shall see Stamford, though now homely hid,
Then shine in learning more then euer did
Cambridge or Oxford, Englands goodly beames.
Nor can you apply this but to much yonger time then Bladuds raigne.

—As he those foure proud streetes began.

Of them you shall haue better declaration to the XVI. Song.

There ballancing his sword against her baser gold.

In that story, of Brennus and his Gaules taking Rome, is affirm'd, that by Se∣natory authority P. Sulpitus (as a Tribune) was Committee to transact with the enemy for leauing the Roman territory; the price was a 1.552 agreed 〈◊〉〈◊〉. pound of gold, vniust weights were offered by the Gaules, which Sulpitius disliking, so farre were those insolent conquerors from mitigation of their oppressing purpose, that (as for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 all) Brennus to the first vniustice of the ballance, ad∣ded the poiz of his Sword also, whence, vpon a murmuring complaint among the Romanes, crying * 1.553 Vae victis, came that to be as prouerbe applied to the conquered.

Against the Delphian power yet shakt his irefull sword.

Like liberty as others, takes the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in affirming that Brennus, which was * 1.554 General to the Gaules in taking Rome, to be the same which ouercame Greece, and assaulted the Oracle. But the truth of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 stands thus: Rome was affi∣cted by one Brennus about the yeare b 1.555 CCC.LX. after, the building, when the Gaules had such a Cadmeian victory of it, that fortune conuerted by martiall opportunity, they were at last by Camillus so put to the sword, that a reporter of the slaughter was not 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Plutarch (not impugned by Polybius, as Polydore hath mistaken) tell vs. About CX. yeares after, were tripartit excursi∣ons of the Gaules; of an armie vnder Cerethrius into Thrace; of the like vnder Belgius or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 into Macedon and Illyricum; of another vnder one Brennus and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 into Pannonia. What successe Belgius had with Ptolemy, surna∣med * 1.556 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, is discouered in the same d 1.557 authors which relate to vs Brennus his wasting of Greece, with his violent, but somewhat voluntary, death; but part of this armie, eyther diuided by mutiny, or left, after Apollo's reuenge, betooke them to habitation in Thrace about the now Constantinople, where first vnder their King Comontorius (as Polybius, but Liuy saith vnder Lutatius and Lomno∣rius, which name perhaps you might correct by Polybius) they ruled their neighbouring States with imposition of tribute, and at last, growing 〈◊〉〈◊〉 popu∣lous, sent (as it seemes) those colonies into Asia, which in e 1.558 Gallograecia left suf∣ficient steps of their ancient names. My compared classique f 1.559 authors will iu∣stifie as much; nor scarce find I materiall opposition among them in any par∣ticulars; onely Trogus, epitomized by Iustine, is therein, by confusion of time and actions, somewhat abused; which hath caus'd that error of those which take Historicall liberty (〈◊〉〈◊〉 is allowable) to affirme Brennus which sackt Rome, and him, that died at Delphos, the same. Examination of time makes it apparantly false; nor indeede doth the British Chronologie endure our Bren∣nus to be eyther of them, as Polydore and Buchanan haue obserued. But want of the British name moues nothing against it; seeing the people of this Westerne part were all, vntil a good time after those 〈◊〉〈◊〉, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by the name of Gaules or Celts; and those which would haue ransackt the Oracle are said by Callima∣chus to haue come
—* 1.560 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉

Which as well fits vs as Gaule. And thus much also obserue, that those names of Brennus and Belinus, being of great note, both in signification and perso∣nal

eminency; &, likely enough, there being many of the same name in Gaule and Britaine, in seuerall ages such identity made confusion in storie. For the first, in this relation appeares what variety was of it; as also 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the British are but significant words for King; and peraduenture almost as ordinary a name among these Westernes, as Pharaoh and Ptolemy in AEgypt, Agag among the Amalekits, Arsaces, Nicomedes, Aleuada, Sophi, Caesar, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, among the Parthians, Bithynians, Thessalians, Persians, Romans, and our Ken∣tish Kings, which the course of History shewes you. For the other, you may see it vsuall in names of their old Kings, as Cassi-Belin in Caesar, Cuno-Belin and Cym-Belin in Tacitus, and Dio, and perhaps Cam-Baules in Pausanias, and Belin (whose steps seeme to be in g 1.561 Abellius a Gaulish and Bela-tucadre a British God) was the name among them of a worshipt Idoll, as appeares in Ausonius; and the same with Apollo, which also by a most ancient British coine, stampt with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 playing on his Harp, circumscribed with CVNO-BE∣LIN, is shew'd to haue beene expresly among the Britons. Although I know, according to their vse, it might be added to Cuno (which was the first part of many of their regall names, as you see in Cuneglas, Cyngetorix, Congolitan, and others) to make a significant word, as if you should say, the yellow King; for Be∣lin in British is yellow. But seeing the very name of their Apollo so well fitted with that colour, * 1.562 which to Apollo is comonly attributed (& obserue that their names had vsually some note of colour in them, by reason of their custome of painting themselues) I suppose they took it as a fortunat concurrence to beare an honored Deity in their title as we see in the names of Merodach and Euil∣Merodach among the Babilonian Kings from Merodach h 1.563 one of their false gods; and like examples may be found among the old Emperors. Obserue al∣so that in British genealogies, they ascend alwayes to Belin the great (which is supposed Heli father to Lud and Cassibelin) as you see to the IV. Song; and here might you compare that of Hel i 1.564 in the Punique tongue, signifying Phaebus, & turn'd into Belus: but I will not therewith trouble you. Howsoeuer, by this I am perswaded (whensoeuer the time were of our Belinus) that Bolgus in Pausanias, and Belgius in Iustine were mistooke for Belinus, as perhaps also Prausus in Strabo (〈☐〉〈☐〉. supplying k 1.565 oftimes the roome of 〈◊〉〈◊〉.) generated of Brennus corrup∣ted. In the story I dare follow none of the Moderne erroniously transcribing Relaters or seeming Correctors, but haue, as I might, tooke it from the best selfe-fountaines, and only vpon them, for triall, I put my selfe.

—whence Cymbrica it tooke.

That Northerne promontory now Iutland, part of the Danish Kingdome, is call'd in Geographers Cymbrica Chersonesus from name of the people in ha∣biting it. And those which will the Cymbrians, Cambrians, or Cumrians from Camber may with good reason of consequence imagine that the name of this Chersones is thence also, as the author here, by liberty of his Muse. But if, with Goropius, Camden, and other their followers, you come neerer truth and deriue them from * 1.566 Gomer, sonne to Iaphet, who, with his posterity, had the North-we∣sterne part of the world; then shall you set, as it were, the accent vpon Cherso∣nes giuing the more significant note of the Country; the name of Cymbrians, Cimmerians, Cambrians, and Cumrians, all as one insubstance being very com∣prehensiue 1 1.567 in these climats; And perhaps, because this promontory lay out so farre, vnder neere LX. degrees latitude (almost at the vtmost of Ptolemies geo∣graphie) and so had the first Winter dayes no longer then betweene V. and VI. houres, there in somewhat (and more then other neighbouring parts of that people, hauing no particular name) agreeing with Homers attribute of darknes m 1.568 to the Cimmerians, it had more specially this title.

To wise Molmutius lawes her Martian first did frame.

Particulars of Molmutius lawes, of Church-liberty, freedome of wayes, hus∣bandry, and diuers other are in the British storie, affirming also that Q. Martia made a booke of lawes, translated afterward, and titled by K. Alfred Mencen-laze. Indeed it appeares that there were three sorts of * 1.569 lawes in the Saxon Hep∣tarchy, Mencan-laze, Dan-laze 〈◊〉〈◊〉 axen-laze 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Mercian, Danish, and West-Saxon law; all which three had their seuerall territories, and were in diuers * 1.570 things compiled into one volume by Cnut, and examined in that Norman constitution of their new Common-wealth. But as the Danish and West-Saxon had their name from particular people, so it seemes, had the Mercian from that Kingdome of Mercland, limited with the Lancashire Riuer Mersey to∣ward Northumberland, and ioining to Wales, hauing eyther from the Riuer that name, or else from the word * 1.571 Manc, because it bounded vpon most of the other Kingdomes; as you may see to the XI. Song.

—in whose eternall name, Great London still shall liue—

King Luds reedifying Trotnouant (first built by Brute) and thence leauing the name of Caer Lud afterward turned (as they say) into London is not vnknowne, scarce to any that hath but lookt on Ludgates inner frontispice; and in old b 1.572 rimes thus I haue it exprest:
Walls * 1.573 he lete make al aboute and yatcs up and down
And after Lud that was is name he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Luds towne.
The herte yate of the toun that yut stout there and is
He let hit clupie Ludgate after is owe name 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
He let him tho he was ded burie at thulke yate
Thereuore yut after him me clupeth it Ludegate.
The toun me clupeth that is wide 〈◊〉〈◊〉
And now me clupeth it London that is lighter in the mouth.
And new Troy it het ere and nou it is so ago
That London it is now icluped and worth euere mo.

Iudicious reformers of fabulous report I know haue more serious deriuati∣ons of the name: and seeing coniecture is free, I could imagine, it might be cald at first Lhan Dien. i. the Temple of Diana, as Lhan Delvi, Lhan Stephan, Lhan Padern Uauwr, Lhan Uair. i. S, Dewy's, S. Stephans, S. Patern the grear, S. Marie; and Verulam is by H. Lbuid, deriued from Her than. i. the Church vpon the Riuer Ver, with diuers more such places in Wates: and so afterward by strangers turned into Londinium, and the like. For, that Diana and her brother Apollo (vnder name of Belin) were two great Deities among the Bri∣tons, * 1.574 what is read next before, Caesars testimony of the Gaules; and that she had her Temple there where Paules is, relation in Camden discloses to you. Now, that the antique course was to title their Cities of times by the name of their po∣wer adored in them, is plaine by Beth-el among the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 brewes, Heliopolis (which in holy Writ is c 1.575 call'd 〈◊〉〈◊〉) in AEgypt, and the same in Greece, Phaenicia, elsewhere; and by Athens named from Minerua. But especially from this supposed deity of Diana (whom in substance Homer no lesse giues the Epithet of * 1.576 〈◊〉〈◊〉 then to Pallas) haue diuers had their titles: as Artemisium in Italy, and Eubea, and that Bubastis in AEgypt, so called from the same word, signify∣ing * 1.577 in AEgyptian, both a Cat and Diana.

Those armed stakes in Thames—

He meanes that which now we call Coway stakes by Otelands, where only, the Thames being without Boat passable, the Britons fixt both on the banke of their side, and in the water e 1.578 sharpe stakes, to preuent the Romanes comming ouer, but in vaine, as the stories tell you.

And more then Caesar got, three Emperours could not win.

Vnderstand not that they were resisted by the Britons, but that the three suc∣cessors of Iulius. i. Augustus, Tiberius, and Caligula neuer so much as with force attempted the Isle, although the last after K. Cunobelins-sonne Adminius his traiterous reuolting to him, in a seeming martiall vehemencie, made p 1.579 all arme to the British voyage, but suddenly in the German shore (where he then was) like himselfe, turned the designe to a jest, and commanded the armie to gather Cockles.

Came with his body nak't, his haire downe to his wast.

In this Caradoc (being the same which at large you haue in Tacitus and Dio, vnder name of Caratacus and Cataracus, and is by some Scottish Historians drawne much too farre Northward) the author expresses the ancient forme of a Britons habite. Yet I thinke not that they were all nak't, but, as is affirmed g 1.580 of the Gaules, downe only to the Nauill; so that on the discouered part might be seene (to the terror of their enemies) those pictures of Beasts, with which h 1.581 they painted themselues It is sustifiable by Caesar, that they vs'd to shaue all except their head & vpper lip, & ware very long haire; but in their old Coynes I see no such thing warranted: and in later i 1.582 times about CCCC. years since, it is espe∣cially attributed to them that they alwayes cut their heads close for auoyding Absalous misfortune.

The Colony long kept at Maldon—

Olde Historians and Geographers call this Camalodunum, which som k 1.583 haue absurdly thought to be Camelot in the Scottish Shrifedome of Stirling, others haue sought it elswhere: but the English Light of antiquity (Caemden) hath sure∣ly found it at this Maldon in Essex, where was a Romish Colonie, as also at l 1.584 Glocester, Chester, Yorke, and perhaps at Colchester, which proues expresly (a∣gainst vulgar allowance) that there was a time when in the chiefest parts of this Southerne Britany the Roman lawes were vsed, as euery one that knowes the * 1.585 meaning of a Colony (which had all their rights and institutions m 1.586 deduced with it; must confesse. This was destroyed vpon discontentment taken by the Icens and Trinobants (now Norfolke, Suffolke, Middlesex, and Essex men) for intollerable wrongs done to the wife and posterity of Praesutagus King of the Icens by the n 1.587 Romans, which the K. (as others in like form) thought, but vain∣ly, to haue preuented by instituting Nero, then Emperour, his fieire. The signes, which the author speakes of, were, a strange, and, as it were, voluntary falling downe of the Goddesse Victories statue, erected by the Romans heere; women, as distracted, singing their ouerthrow; the Ocean looking bloody; vn∣couth howlings in their assemblies, and such like. Petilius Cerealis, Lieutenant of the IX. Legion, comming to aide, lost all his footmen, and betooke himselfe with the rest to his fortified Tents. But for this read the History.

By poison end her dayes. —

So Tacitus; but Dio, that she died of sickenes. Her name is writen diuersly Voadicia, Boodicia, Bunduica, and Boudicea: she was wife to Prasutagus, of whom last before.

A greater foe to vs in our owne bowels bred.

Euery story, of the declining British state, will tell you what miseries were * 1.588 endured by the hostile irruptions of Scots and Picts into the Southerne part. For the passage here of them, know, that the Scottish stories, which begin their continued Monarchique gouernment at Ferguze, affirme the Picts (from the Scythian territories) to haue arriued in the now Iutland, and thence passed into Scotland some CCL. yeares after the Scots first entring Britaine, which was, by account, about LXXX. yeares before our Sauiours birth, and thence continued these a State by themselues, vntill K. Kenneth about DCCC. XL. yeares after Christ vtterly supplanted them. Others, as Bede and his followers, make them elder in the Isle then the Scots, and fetch them out of Ireland; the British sto∣rie (that all may be discords) sayes, they entred Albania vnder conduct of one Roderic their King (for so you must read in * 1.589 Monmouth and not Londric, as the Print in that and much other mistakes) and were valiantly oppos'd by Mari∣us then King of Britons, Roderic slain, and Cathenes giuen them for habitation. This Marius is placed with Vespasian, & the grosse differences of time make all suspicious; so that you may as well beleeue none of them, as any one. Rather adhere to learned Camden, making the Picts very genuine Britons, distinguisht onely by accidentall name, as in him you may see more largely.

Aruiragus of ours first taking to protect.

His marriage with (I know not what) Genissa, daughter to Claudius, the habi∣tude of friendship twixt Rome and him, after composition with Vespasian then, vnder the Emperor, employ'd in the British warre, the common storie relates. This is Armitagus, which Iuuenal o 1.590 speakes of. Polydore referres him to Nero's time, others rightly to Domitian, because indeed the Poet p 1.591 then florished. That fabulous Hector Boetius makes him the same with Phasuiragus, as he cals him, in Tacitus; he meanes Prasutagus, hauing misread Tacitus his copie.

This happines we haue Christ crucified to know.

Neer C. LXXX. after Christ (the Chronologie of Bede herein is plainly false and obserue what I told you of that kind to the I V. Song) this Lucius vpon re∣quest to Pope Eleutherius receiued at the hands of q 1.592 Fugatius and Damianus, ho∣ly Baptism; yet so, that by Ioseph of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (of whom to the III. Song) seeds of true Religion were here before sowne: by some I finde it r 1.593 without warrant, affirm'd that he conuerted Aruiragus,
And gaue him then a shilde of muer white,
A Crosse endlong and ouerthwart full perfect,
These armes were bsed through all Britaine
For a common signe each man to know his nation
From enemies, which now we call certaine.
&. Georges armes—

But thus much collect, that, although vntill Lucius we had not a Christian King (for you may well suspect, rather denie, for want of better authority, this

of Aruiragus) yet (vnlesse you beleeue the tradition of Gundafer K. of Indy, * 1.594 a 1.595 conuerted by S. Thomas, or Abagar b 1.596 K of Edessa, to whom those letters wri∣ten, as is supposed, by our Sauiours owne hand, kept as a pretious relique in c 1.597 Constantinople vntill the Emperour Isaacius Angelus, as my authors say, were sent) it is apparant that This Island had the first Christian King in the world, and cleerely in Europe, so that you cite not Tiberius his priuate seeming Christiani∣ty (which is obserued out of d 1.598 Tertullian) euen in whose time also Gildas affirms, Britaine was comforted with wholsome beames of religious Light. Not much different from this age was Donald first King Christian of the Scots; so that if Priority of time swayed it, and not custome (deriued from a communicable at∣tribute giuen by the Popes) that name of Most Christian should better fit our Soueraigns then the French. This Lucius, by helpe of those two Christian aids, is said to haue, in roome of III. Arch-Flamins and XXVIII. Flamins (through whose doctrine, polluting sacrifices, and idolatry raigned here in stead of true seruice) instituted III. Archbishopriques at London, Yorke, and Caer-leon vpon Vske, & XXVIII. Bishopriques; of them, all beyond Humbre subiect to Yorke; al the now Wales to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to Londō, the now England with Cornwal. And so al∣so was the custom in other Countries, euen grounded vpon S. Peters own com∣mand, to make substitution of Arch-bishops or Patriarches to Arch-Flamins, and Bishops to Flamins, if you beleeue a d 1.599 Popes assertion. For Yorke, there is now a Metropolitan Sea; Caerleon had so vntill the change spoken of to the V. Song. And London, the Cathedrall Church being at S. Peters in Cornhill, vntill translation of the Pall e 1.600 to Canterbury by Augustine, sent hither by Gregory the I. vnder K. Ethelbert, according to a prophesie of Merlin, that Christianity should faile, and then reuiue when the See of London did adorne Canterbury, as, after comming of the Saxons, it did. This moued that ambitious Gilbert of Folioth Bishop of London to challenge the Primacy of England; for which he is bit∣terly taxed by a great f 1.601 Clerke of the same time. If I adde to the British glorie that this Lucius was cause of like conuersion in Bauaria and Rhetia, I should out of my bounds. The learned Mark Velser, and others, haue enough re∣membred it.

Constantius worthy wife—

That is Helen, wife to Constantius or Constans Chlorus the Emperour, and mother to Constantine the great, daughter to Coile King of Britaine, where Constantine was by her brought forth. Doe not obiect Nicephorus Callistus that erroniously affirmes him borne in Drepanum of Bithynia, or Iul. Firmi∣cus g 1.602, that sayes at Tarsus, vpon which testimony (not vncorrupted) a great Critique h 1.603 hath violently offered to depriue vs both of him and his mother, affirming her a Bithynian; nor take aduantage of Cedrenus, that will haue 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his birth soile. But our Histories, and, with them, the Latine Ecclesiastique relation (in passages of her inuention of the Crosse, and such like) allowed also by Cardinall Baronius, make her thus a British woman. And for great Con∣stantines birth in this land you shall haue authority; against which I wonder how Lipsius 〈◊〉〈◊〉 oppose his conceit. In an old Panegyrist i 1.604, speaking to Con∣stantine: * 1.605 Liberauit ille (he meanes his father) Britannias 〈◊〉〈◊〉, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 nobiles illic Oriendo fecisti; and another, * 1.606 O fortunata & 〈◊〉〈◊〉 omnibus beatior terris Britannia, qua Constantinum Caesarem prima 〈◊〉〈◊〉. These might per∣swade, that Firmicus were corrupted, seeing they liued when they might know as much of this as he. Nicephorus and Cedrenus are of much later time, and deserue no vndoubted credit. But in certaine orientall 〈◊〉〈◊〉 k 1.607 of State (newly published by Iohn Meursius professor of Greeke storie at Leiden) the Emperor Constantine Porphyrogennetes aduises his son Romanus, that he should

not take him a wife of alien bloud, because all people dissonant from the go∣uernment * 1.608 and manners of the Empire by a law of Constantine, established in S. Sophies Church, were prohibited the height of that glory, excepting only the Franks, allowing them this honor * 1.609 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, with might make you imagine him borne in Gaule; let it not moue you, but ob∣serue that this Porphyrogennetes liued about DCC. yeares since, when it was (& a∣mong the Turks stil is) ordinary with these Greeks to cal a 1.610 all (especially the We∣sterne) Europeans by the name of Frankes, as they did themselues Romans. Why then might not we be comprehended, whose name, as English, they scarce, as it seemes, knew of, calling vs b 1.611 Inclins; and indeed the indefinit forme of speech, in the author I cite, shewes as if he meant some remote place by the Franks, admit∣ting he had intended onely but what we now call French. If you can beleeue one of our countrey-men c 1.612 that liued about Hen. II. he was borne in London; others thinke he was borne at Yorke: of that, I determine not. Of this Helen, her Religion, finding the Crosse, good deeds in walling London & Colchester (which in honor of her, they say, beares a Crosse betweene foure Crownes, and for the Inuention she is yet celebrated in Holy-rood day in May) & of this Constantine her sonne, a mighty and religious Emperor (although I know him taxt for no small faults by Ecclesiastique writers) that in this ayre receiued his first * 1.613 light and life, our Britons vaunt not vniustly: as in that spoken to K. Arthur.
Now it worth iended that sthile the sage sede biuore
That there 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Brutaine thre men be ybore
That 〈◊〉〈◊〉 winne the aumpyr of Rome; of tweye pdo it is
As of * 1.614 Bely and Coustantin, and thou art the threddey wis.
For this Sibylle who she was, I must take day to tell you.

Against the Arrian Sect at Arles hauing ronne.

In the II. Councell at Arles in Prouence, held vnder Constantine and Syl∣uester, is subscribed the name of Restitutus Bishop of London, the like respe∣ctiuely in other Councels spoken of by the Author. It is not vnfit to note here * 1.615 that in later time the vse hath beene (when and where Romes Supremacy was acknowledged) to send alwayes to generall Councels, out of euery Christian State, some Bishops, Abbots and Priors; and I find it affirmed by the Clergie vnder f 1.616 Hen. II. that, to a generall Councell, onely foure Bishops are to be sent out of England. So, by reason of this course added to State-allowance afterward-at home; were those Canons receiued into our law; as of Bigamie in the Coun∣cell of Lions, interpreted by Parliament vnder Ed. I. Of Pluralities in the Coun∣cell of Lateran, held by Innocent III. raigning our K. Iohn; and the law of Laps in Benefices had so its ground from that Councell of Lateran in 〈◊〉〈◊〉. C. LXXIX. vnder Alexander the III. whither, for our part, were sent Hugh Bishop of Dur∣ham, Iohn Bishop of Norwich, Robert Bishop of Hereford, and Rainold Bishop of Bath, with diuers Abbots, where the g 1.617 Canon was made for presentation within six moneths, and title of Laps, giuen to the Bishop in case the Chapter were Patron, from the Bishop to them if he were Patron: which, although, in that, it be not law with vs, nor also their difference betweene a lay h 1.618 and Ecclesi∣astique patron for number of the months, allowing the lay-man but foure, vet shewes it selfe certainly to be the originall of that custom anciently & now vsed * 1.619 in the Ordinaries collation. And hither Henry of Bracton referres it expresly; by whom you may amend Iohn le Briton, and read Lateran in stead of Lions a∣bout this same matter. Your conceit, truly ioining these things, cannot but per∣ceiue that Canons & constitutions, in Popes Councels, absolutely neuer bound * 1.620 vs in other forme then, fitting them by the square of English law & policie, our

reuerend Sages and Baronage allowed and n 1.621 interpreted them, who in their for∣mall o 1.622 Writs would mention them as law and custome of the Kingdom, and not otherwise.

Eleuen thousand maids sent those our friends againe.

Our common story affirmes, that in time of Gratian the Emperor, Conan King of Armorique Britaine (which was filled with a Colony of this Isle by this Conan and Maximus, otherwise Maximian that slew Gratian) hauing warre with the neighbouring Gaules, desired of Dinoth Regent of Cornwall, or (if you will) of our Britaine (by neerenes of bloud; so to establish and continue loue in * 1.623 the posterity of both countries) that he might himselfe match with Dinoth's daughter Vrsula, and with her a competent multitude of Virgins might be sent ouer to furnish his vnwiu'd Batchelers: whereupon were XI. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. of the nobler bloud with Vrsula and LX. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. of meaner ranke (elected out of diuers parts of * 1.624 the Kingdome) Shipt at London for satisfaction of this request. In the coast of Gaule, they were by tempest disperst; some rauisht by the Ocean; others for chast deniall of their maiden-heads to Guaine and Melga. Kings of Huns and Picts (whom Gratian had animated against Maximus, as vsurping title of the British Monarchie) were miserably put to the sword in some German coast, whi∣ther misfortune carried them. But because the Author slips it ouer with a touch * 1.625 you shall haue it in such old Verse, as I haue.

This maidens were ygadred and to London come Mani were glad ther of and wel 〈◊〉〈◊〉 That p 1.626 hit ssold of londe wende and neu est q 1.627 hor srend yse And some to lese hor maidenhod wiues bor to be. Tho hit were in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ydo, and in the se her were So gret tempest ther come that drol hem here and there. So that the r 1.628 〈◊〉〈◊〉 adreined were in the se And to other londs some ydriue, that ne come neuer s 1.629 age. A king there was of Hungry, Guaine was his name And Melga k. t 1.630 Picardie that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, The waters bor to loki aboute the se hit were A companie of this maydens so that hii met there, To hor folie hii wolde u 1.631 home nine and bor men also At the maydens wold rather die than concenty thereto The wende borth the x 1.632 luther men and the maidens flow cehone So that to the lasse Brutaine there ne cowe aliue 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Some lay all this wickednes absurdly (for time endures it not) to Atilla's y 1.633 charge, who raigned King of Huns about CCCC. L. (aboue LX. yeares after Gratian) and affirme their suffering of this (as they call it) martyrdome at Co∣logne, whither, in at the mouth of Rhine, they were carried; others also particu∣larly tell you that there were foure companions to Vrsula, in greatnes and ho∣nor, their z 1.634 names being Pynnosa, Cordula, Eleutheria, Florentia, and that vnder these were to euery of the XI. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. one President, Iota, Benigna, Clementia, Sapt∣entia, Carpophora, Columba, Benedicta, Odilia, Celyndris, Sibylla and Lucia: and that, custome at Cologne hath excluded all other bodies from the place of their buriall. The strange multitude of LXXI. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Virgins thus to be transported, with the difference of time (the most excellent note to examine truth of histo∣rie by) may make you doubt of the whole report. I will not iustifie it, but only admonish thus, that those our old Stories are in this followed by that great Hi∣storian Baronius, allowed by Francis de Bar, White of Basingstoch; and before any of them, by that learned Abbot Tritemius, beside the Martyrologies, which to the honor of the XI. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. haue dedicated the XI. day of our October. But in∣deed how they can stand with what in some copies of Nennius z 1.635 we read, I can∣not

see: it is there reported, that those Britons which went thither with Maxi∣mus (the same man and time with the former) tooke them 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wiues, and cut out their tongues, lest they should possesse their children of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 language; whence our Welsh called them afterward * 1.636 Lehit-Widion, because they spake confusedly. I see a 1.637 that yet there is great affinity twixt the British Armorique, and the Welsh, the first (to giue you a tast) saying, Don tad pehunii sou en 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the other, En tad 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hwn pdwit yn y nefoedd for Our Father which art in 〈◊〉〈◊〉; but I suspect extremely that fabulous Tongue-cutting, & would haue you, of the two, beleeue rather the Virgins, were it not for the exorhitant number, and that, against infallible credit, our Historians mixe with it Gratians suruiuing Maximus; a kind of fault that makes often the very truth doubtful.

That from the Scythian poore whence they themselues deriue.

He meanes the Saxons, whose name, after learned men, is to the IV. Song de∣riued from a Scythian nation. It pleases the Muse in this passage to speake of that originall, as meane and vnworthy of comparison with the Troian British, drawne out of Iupiters blood by Venus, Anchises, and AEneas; I iustifie her phrase, for that the Scythian was indeed poore, yet voluntarily, not through want, liuing commonly in field-tents; and (as our Germans in Tacitus) so Stoi∣call, as not to care for the future, hauing prouision for the present, from natures liberality. But, if it were worth examining, you might find the Scythian as no∣ble and worthy a nation as any red of; and such a one as the English and others might be as proud to deriue themselues from, as any which do search for their ancestors glory in Troian ashes. If you beleeue the old report b 1.638 of themselues, then can you not make them lesse then descended by Targitaus from Iupiter and Borysthenes; if what the Greekes, who, as afterward the Romans, accounted and stiled all barbarous, except themselues; then you must draw their pede∣gree through Agatbyrsus, Gelonus and Scytha, from Hercules; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 these haue, in this kind, their superior. If among them you desire learning, remem∣ber Zamolxis, Diceneus, and Anacharsis before the rest. For although to some of these, other Patronymiques are giuen, yet know that anciently (which for the present matter obserue seriously) as all, Southward, were call'd AEthiopians, all Eastward, Indians, all West, Celts, so all Northernes were stiled Scythians; as c 1.639 Ephorus is Author. I could adde the honorable allegories, of those their gol∣den Yoake, Plough, Hatchet, & Cup sent from heauen, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 enough deliue∣red by d 1.640 Goropius, with other coniecturall testimonies of their worth. But I ab∣staine from such digression.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The ninth Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

The Muse heere Merioneth vaunts, And her proud Mountaines highly chaunts. The Hills and Brooks, to brauery bent, Stand for precedence from Descent: The Riuers for them shewing there The vvonders of their Pimblemere. Proud Snowdon gloriously proceeds With Cambria's natiue Princes deeds. The Muse then through Carnarvan makes, And Mon (now Anglesey) awakes To tell her ancient Druides guise, And manner of their Sacrifice. Her Rillets shee together calls; Then back for Flint and Denbigh falls.

OF all the Cambrian Shires their heads that beare so hie, And farth'st survay their soyles with an ambitious eye, Mervinia a 1.641 for her Hills, as for their matchlesse crowds, The necrest that are said to kisse the wandring clowds, Especiall Audience craues, offended with the throng, That shee of all the rest neglected was so long: Alleaging for her selfe; When through the Saxons pride, The God-like race of Brute to Severns setting side VVere cruelly inforc't, her Mountaines did relieue Those, whom deuouring warre else euery-where did grieue. And when all Wales beside (by Fortune or by might) Vnto her ancient foe resign'd her ancient right, A constant Mayden still shee onely did remaine, § The last her genuine lawes which stoutly did retaine. And as each one is prays'd for her peculiar things; So onely shee is rich, in Mountaines, Meres, and Springs, And holds her selfe as great in her superfluous wast, As others by their Townes, and fruitfull tillage grac't.

And therefore, to recount her Riuers, from their * 1.642 Lins, Abbridging all delayes, Mervinia thus begins;

Though Dovy, which doth far her neighboring Floods surmount (Whose course, for hers alone Mountgomery doth account) Hath Angell for her owne, and Keriog she doth cleere, With Towin, Gwedall then, and Dulas, all as deere, * 1.643 Those tributary streames she is maintain'd withall: Yet, boldly may I say, her rising and her fall My Country calleth hers, with many another Brooke, That with their crystall eyes on the Vergiuian looke. To Dovy next, of which Desunny sea-ward driues, Lingorrill goes alone: but plentious Avon striues The first to be at Sea; and faster her to hie, Cleere Kessilgum comes in, with Hergum by and by. So Derry, Moothy drawes, and Moothy calleth Caine, Which in one channell meet, in going to the Maine, As to their vtmost power to lend her all their aydes: So Atro by the arme Lanbeder kindly leads. And Velenrid the like, obseruing th'others lawe, Calls Cunnell; shee againe, faire Drurid forth doth draw, That from their mother Earth, the rough Mervinia, pay Their mixed plentious Springs, vnto the lesser Bay § Of those two noble armes into the Land that beare, Which through a 1.644 Gwinethia be so famous euery where, On my Carnarvan side by nature made my Mound, As Dovy doth diuide the Cardiganian ground. The pearly Conwayes head, as that of holy Dee, Renowned Riuers both, their rising haue in mee: So, Lauern and the Lue, themselues that head-long throwe § Into the spacious Lake, where Dee vnmixt doth flowe. Trowerrin takes his streame, here from a natiue Lin; Which, out of Pimblemere when Dee him selfe doth win, Along with him his Lord full curteously doth glide: So Rudock riseth heere, and Cletor that doe guide Him in his rugged path, and make his greatnes way, Their Dee into the bounds of Denbigh to convay.

The loftie Hills, this while attentiuely that stood, As to survey the course of euery seuerall Flood, Sent forth such ecchoing shoutes (which euery way so shrill, With the reverberate sound the spacious ayre did fill) That they were easely heard through the Vergiuian Maine To Neptunes inward Court; and beating there, constraine That mightie God of Sea t'awake: who full of dread, Thrice threw his three-forkt Mace about his griesly head, And thrice aboue the Rocks his fore-head rays'd to see Amongst the high-topt Hills what tumult it should bee.

So that with very sweat Cadoridrie did drop, And mighty Raran shooke his proud sky-kissing top, Amongst the furious rout whom madnes did enrage; Vntill the Mountaine Nymphs, the tumult to asswage, Vpon a modest signe of silence to the throng, Consorting thus, in prayse of their Mervinia, song;

Thrice famous Saxon King, on whom Time nere shall pray, O Edgar! vvho compeldst our Ludwall hence to pay Three hundred VVolues a yeere for trybute vnto thee: And for that tribute payd, as famous may'st thou bee, O conquer'd British King, by whom was first destroy'd § The multitude of Wolues, that long this Land annoy'd; Regardlesse of their rape, that now our harmlesse Flocks, Securely heere may sit vpon the aged Rocks; Or wandring from their walks, and straggling here and there Amongst the scattred Cleeues, the Lambe needs neuer feare; But from the threatning storme to saue it selfe may creepe Into that darksome Caue where once his foe did keepe: That now the clambring Goat all day which hauing fed, And clyming vp to see the sunne goe downe to bed, Is not at all in doubt her little Kid to lose, VVhich grazing in the Vale, secure and safe she knowes.

VVhere, from these lofty hills which spacious heauen doe threat, * 1.645 Yet of as equall height, as thick by nature set, We ralke how wecare stor'd, or what wee greatly need, Or how our flocks doe fare, and how our heards doe feed, When else the hanging Rocks, and Vallyes dark and deepe, The Sommers longest day would vs from meeting keepe.

Yee Cambrian Shepheards then, whō these our Mountaines please, And yee our fellow Nymphs, yee light * 1.646 Oreades, § Saint Hellens wondrous way, and Herberts let vs goe, And our diuided Rocks with admiration showe.

Not meaning there to end, but speaking as they were, A suddaine fearefull noyse surprised euery eare. The water-Nymphs (not farre) Lin-Teged that frequent, With browes besmeat'd with ooze, their locks with dewe besprent, Inhabiting the Lake, in sedgy bowres belowe, Their inward grounded griefe that onely sought to showe Against the Mountaine kind, which much on them did take Aboue their watry brood, thus proudly them bespake;

Tell vs, ye haughtie Hills, why vainly thus you threat, Esteeming vs so meane, compar'd to you so great. To make you know your selues, you this must vnderstand, That our great Maker layd the surface of the Land, As levell as the Lake vntill the generall Flood, VVhen ouer all so long the troubled waters stood:

VVhich, hurried with the blasts from angry heauen that blew, Vpon huge massy heapes the loosened grauell threw: From hence we would yee knew, your first beginning came. Which, since, in tract of time, your selues did Mountaines name. So that the earth, by you (to check her mirthfull cheere) May alwaies see (from heauen) those plagues that poured were Vpon the former world; as t'were by scarres to showe That still shee must remaine disfigur'd with the blowe: And by th'infectious slime that doomefull Deluge left, Nature herselfe hath since of puritie beene 〈◊〉〈◊〉; And by the seeds corrupt, the life of mortall man Was shortned. With these plagues yee Mountaines first began.

But, ceasing you to shame; What Mountaine is there found In all your monstrous kind (seeke yee the Iland round) That truly of him selfe such wonders can report As can this spacious Lin, the place of our resort? That when Dee in his course faine in her lap would lie, * 1.647 Commixtion with her store, his streame shee doth deny, By his complexion prou'd, as he through her doth glide. Her wealth againe from his, she likewise doth divide: Those White-fish that in her doe wondrously abound, Are neuer seene in him; nor are his Salmons found At any time in her: but as shee him disdaines; So hee againe, from her, as wilfully abstaines. Downe from the neighboring Hills, those plentious Springs that fall, Nor Land-floods after raine, her neuer mouse at all. And as in Sommers heat, so alwaies is she one, Resembling that great Lake which seemes to care for none: § And with sterne Eolus blasts, like Thetis waxing ranke, Shee onely ouer-swells the surface of her bank.

But, whilst the Nymphs report these wonders of their Lake, Their further cause of speech the mightie a 1.648 Snowdon brake; Least, if their watry kind should suffred be too long, The licence that they tooke, might doe the Mountaines wrong. For quickly he had found that straitned poynt of Land, Into the Irish Sea which puts his powrefull hand, Puft with their watry praise, grew insolently proud, And needs would haue his Rills for Riuers be allow'd: Short Darent, neer'st vnto the vtmost poynt of all That th'Ile of Gelin greets, and Bardsey in her fall; And next to her, the Sawe, the Gir, the Er, the May, Must Riuers be at least, should all the world gaine-say: And those, whereas the Land lyes East-ward, amply wide, That goodly Conway grace vpon the other side, Borne neere vpon her banks, each from her proper Lin, Soone from their Mothers out, soone with their Mistris in.

As Ledder, her Allie, and neighbour Legwy; then Goes Purloyd, Castell next, with Giffin, that agen Obserue faire Conway's course: and though their race be short, Yet they their Soueraigne Flood inrich with their resort. And Snowdon, more then this, his proper Mere did note * 1.649 (§ Still Delos like, wherein a wandring Ile doth floate) VVas peremptory growne vpon his higher ground; That Poole, in which (besides) the one-eyed fish are found, As of her wonder proud, did with the Floods partake.

So, when great Snowdon saw, a Faction they would make Against his generall kind; both parties to appease, Hee purposeth to sing their natiue Princes praise. For Snowdony, a Hill, imperiall in his seat, * 1.650 Is from his mighty foote, vnto his head so great, That were his Wales distrest, or of his helpe had need, Hee all her Flocks and Heards for many months could feed. Therefore to doe some-thing were worthy of his name, Both tending to his strength, and to the Britans fame, His Country to content, a signall hauing made, By this Oration thinks both Parties to perswade:

VVhilst heere this generall Ile, the ancient Britans ow'd, Their valiant deeds before by Severn haue been show'd: But, since our furious Foe, these powrefull Saxon swarmes (As mercilesse in spoyle, as well approu'd in Armes) Heere called to our ayde, Loëgria vs berest, Those poore and scatter'd few of Brutes high linage left, For succour hither came; where that vnmixed race Remaines vnto this day, yet owners of this place: Of whom no Flood nor Hill peculiarly hath song. These, then, shall be my Theame: least Time too much should wrong Such Princes as were ours, since seuer'd we haue been; And as themselues, their fame be limited between The Severne and our Sea, long pent within this place, § Till with the tearme of Welsh, the English now embase The nobler Britains name, that welneere was destroy'd With Pestilence and Warre, which this great Ile annoy'd; Cadwallader that draue to the Armorick shore: To which, drad Conan, Lord of Denbigh, long before, His Countrymen from henceauspiciously convay'd: Whose noble feates in warre, and neuer-fayling ay'd, Got Maximus (at length) the victorie in Gaul, Vpon the Roman powers. Where, after Gratians fall, Armorica to them the valiant Victor gaue: Where Conan, their great Lord, as full of courage, draue The Celts out of their seats, and did their roome supply § With people still from hence; which of our Colony

VVas little Britaine call'd. Where that distressed King, Cadwallader, himselfe awhile recomforting With hope of Alans ayde (which there did him detaine) § Forewarned was in Dreames, that of the Britans raigne A sempiternall end the angry Powers decreed, A Recluse life in Rome inioyning him to lead. The King resigning all, his sonne young Edwall left With Alan: who, much grieu'd the Prince should be bereft Of Britains ancient right, rigg'd his vnconquer'd Fleet; And as the Generalls then, for such an Army 〈◊〉〈◊〉, His Nephew Iuor chose, and Hiner for his pheere; Two most vndaunted spirits. These valiant Britans were The first who a 1.651 West-Sex wonne. But by the ling'ring warre, When they those Saxons found t'haue succour still from farre, They tooke them to their friends on Severns setting shore: Where finding Edwall dead, they purpos'd to restore His sonne young Rodorick, whom the Saxon powers pursu'd: But hee, who at his home heere scorn'd to be subdu'd, With Aldred (that on Wales his strong invasion brought) Garthmalack, and Pencoyd (those famous battailes) fought, That North and South-wales sing, on the West-Sexians wonne.

Scarce this victorious taske his bloodied sword had done, But at Mount b 1.652 Carno met the Mercians, and with wounds Made Ethelbald to feele his trespasse on our bounds; Prevail'd against the Pict, before our force that flew; And in a valiant fight their King Dalargan slew.

Nor Conan's courage lesse, nor lesse prevail'd in ought Renowned Rodoricks heire, who with the English fought The Herefordian Field; as Ruthblands red with gore: Who, to transfer the warre from this his natiue shore, Marcht through the Mercian Townes with his reuengefull blade; And on the English there such mighty hauock made, That Offa (when he saw his Countries goe to wrack) From bick'ring with his folke, to keepe vs Britains back, Cast vp that mighty Mound of eighty miles in length, * 1.653 A thwart from Sea to Sea. Which of the Mercians strength A witnesse though it stand, and Offa's name doe beare, Our courage was the cause why first he cut it there: As that most dreadful day at Gauelford can tell, Where vnder eithers sword so many thousands fell VVith intermixed blood, that neither knew their owne; Nor which went Victor thence, vnto this day is knowne.

Nor Kettles conflict then, lesse martiall courage show'd, Where valiant Mervin met the Mercians, and bestow'd His nobler British blood on Burthreds recreant flight.

As Rodorick his great sonne, his father following right,

Bare not the Saxons scornes, his Britans to out-braue; At Gwythen, but againe to Burthred battell gaue; Twice driuing out the Dane when he invasion brought. Whose no lesse valiant sonne, againe at Conway fought With Danes and Mercians mixt, and on their hatefull head Down-showr'd their dire reuenge whom they had murthered.

And, wer't not that of vs the English would report (Abusing of our Tongue in most malicious sort As often-times they doe) that more then any, wee (The Welsh, as they vs tearme) loue glorifi'd to bee, Heere could I else recount the slaught'red Saxons gore Our swords at Crosford spilt on Severns wandring shore; And Griffith here produce, Lewellins valiant sonne (May wee belieue our Bards) who fiue pitcht Battels wonne; And to reuenge the wrongs the envious English wrought, His vvell-train'd martiall troupes into the Marches brought As farre as Wor'ster walls: nor thence did he retire, Till Powse lay wel-neere spent in our reuengefull fire; As Hereford layd waste: and from their plentious soyles, Brought back with him to Wales his prisoners and his spoyles.

Thus as we valiant were, when valour might vs steed: With those so much that dar'd, wee had them that decreed. For, what Mulmutian lawes, or 〈◊〉〈◊〉, euer were § More excellent then those which our good Howell heere Ordayn'd to gouerne Wales? which still with vs remaine.

And when all-powerfull Fate had brought to passe againe, That as the Saxons earst did from the Britains win; Vpon them so (at last) the Normans comming in, Tooke from those Tyrants heere, what treacherously they got (To the perfidious French, which th'angry heauens allot) Nere could that Conquerors sword (which roughly did decide His right in England heere, and prostrated her pride) § Vs to subiection stoope, or make vs Britains beare Th'vnwieldy Norman yoke: nor basely could we feare His Conquest, entring Wales; but (with stout courage) ours Defi'd him to his face, with all his English powers.

And when in his revenge, proud Rufus hither came (VVith vowes) vs to subvert; with slaughter and with shame, O're Severn him we sent, to gather stronger ayde.

So, when to Englands power, Albania hers had lay'd, By Henry Beauclarke brought (for all his diuelish wit, By which he raught the Wreath) hee not prevail'd awhit: And through our rugged straits when he so rudely prest, Had not his proued Maile sare surely to his breast, A skilfull British hand his life had him bereft, As his sterne brothers hart, by Tirrills hand was cleft.

And let the English thus which vilifie our name, If it their greatnes please, report vnto our shame The foyle our Gwyneth gaue at Flints so deadly fight, To Maud the Empresse sonne, that there he put to flight; § And from the English power th'imperiall Ensigne tooke: About his plumed head which valiant Owen shooke.

As when that King againe, his fortune to advance Aboue his former foyle, procur'd fresh powers from France, A surely-leveld shaft if Sent-cleare had not seene, And in the very loose, not thrust himselfe betweene His Soueraigne and the shaft, he our reuenge had tri'd: Thus, to preserue the King, the noble subiect dy'd.

As Madock his braue sonne, may come the rest among; Who, like the God-like race from which his Grandsires sprong, Whilst heere his Brothers ty'd in sad domestick strife, On their vnnaturall breasts bent eithers murtherous knife; This braue aduenturous Youth, in hote pursute of fame, VVith such as his great spirit did with high deeds inflame, Put forth his well-rigg'd Fleet to seeke him forraine ground, And sayled West so long, vntill that world he found To Christians then vnknowne (saue this adventrous crue) Long ere Columbus liv'd, or it Visputius knew; And put the now-nam'd Welsh on India's parched face, Vnto the endlesse praise of Brutes renowned race, Ere the Iberian Powers had toucht her long-sought Bay, § Or any eare had heard the sound of Florida.

§ And with that Croggens name let th'English vs disgrace; When there are to be seene, yet, in that ancient place Frō whence that name they fetch, their cōquer'd Grandsires Graues: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 which each ignorant sot, vniustly vs depraues.

And when that Tyrant Iohn had our subversion vow'd, § To his vnbridled will our necks we neuer bow'd: Nor to his mightie sonne; whose host wee did inforce (His succours cutting off) to eate their war-like horse.

Vntill all-ruling Heauen would haue vs to resigne: VVhen that braue Prince, the last of all the British Line, Lewellin, Griffiths sonne, vnluckily was slaine, § As Fate had spar'd our fall till Edward Long shanks raigne. Yet to the stock of Brute so true wee euer were, VVe would permit no Prince, vnleffe a natiue here. VVhich, that most prudent King perceiuing, wisely thought To satisfie our wills, and to Carnarvan brought His Queene be'ing great with child, euen ready downe to lie; Then to his purpos'd end doth all his powers apply.

Through euery part of Wales hee to the Nobles sent, That they vnto his Court should come incontinent,

Of things that much concern'd the Country to debate: But now behold the power of vnauoyded Fate.

When thus vnto his will he fitly them had wonne, At her expected houre the Queene brought forth a sonne. And to this great designe, all hapning as he would, He (his intended course that clearkly manage could) Thus queintly traines vs on: Since he perceiu'd vs prone Here onely to be rul'd by Princes of our owne, Our naturalnes therein he greatly did approue;* 1.654 And publiquely protests, that for the ancient loue He euer bare to Wales, they all should plainly see, That he had found out one, their soueraigne Lord to bee; Com'n of the race of Kings, and (in their Country borne) Could not one English word: of which he durst be sworne. Besides, his vpright heart, and innocence was such, As that (he was assur'd) blacke Enuie could not tuch His spotlesse life in ought. Poore we (that not espic His subtilty herein) in plaine simplicity, Soone bound our selues by oath, his choice not to refuse: When as that craftie King, his little childe doth chuse, Yong Edward, borne in Wales, and of Carnaruan call'd. Thus by the English craft, we Britans were enthrall'd:

Yet in thine owne behalfe, deare Country dare to say, Thou long as powerfull wert as England cuery way. And if she ouermuch should seeke thee to imbase, Tell her thou art the Nurse of all the British race, And he that was by heauenappointed to vnite (After that tedious warre) the red Rose and the white, A Tudor was of thine, and natiue of thy Mon, From whom descends that King now sitting on her Throane.

This speech, by Snowdon made, so luckie was to please Both parties, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 both with such content t'appease; That as before they 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for soueraignty and place, They onely now contend, which most should other grace.

Into the Irish Sea, then all those Itilles that ronne, In Snowdons praise to speake, immediatly begon; Lewenny, Lynan next, then Gwelly gaue it out, And Kerriog her compecre, soone told it all about: So did their sister Nymphs, that into Mena straine; The flood that doth diuide Mon from the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in Maine. It Gorway greatly prais'd, and Seint it lowdly song. So, mighty Snowdous speech was through Carnaruan rong; That scarcely such a noise to Mon from Mena came, When with his puissant troupes for conquest of the same, On Bridges made of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the Roman powers her sought, Or Edward to her sacke his English Armies brought:

That Mona strangely stird great Snowdons praise to heare, Although the stock of Troy to her was euer deare; Yet (from her proper worth) as shee before all other § Was call'd (in former times) her Country Cambria's mother, Perswaded was thereby her praises to pursue, Or by neglect, to lose what to her selfe was due, A signe to Neptune sent, his boystrous rage to slake; Which suddainly becalm'd, thus ofher selfe she spake;

What one of all the Iles to Cambria doth belong (To Britaine, I might say, and yet not doe her wrong) Doth equall me in soyle, so good for grasse and graine? As should my Wales (where still Brutes ofspring doth remaine) That mighty store of men, yet more of beasts doth breed, By famine or by warre constrained be to need, And Englands neighboring Shires their succour would denie; My onely selfe her wants could plentiously supply.

What Iland is therefound vpon the Irish coast, In which that Kingdome seemes to be delighted most (And seeke you all along the rough Vergiuian shore, Where the incountring rydes outrageously doe 〈◊〉〈◊〉) That bowes not at my beck, as they to me did owe The dutie subiects should vnto their Soueraigne showe; § So that th'Eubonian Man, a kingdome long time knowne, Which wisely hath been rul'd by Princes of her owne, In my alliance ioyes, as in th Albanian Seas The a 1.655 Arrans, and by them the scatt'red a 1.656 Eubides Reioyce euen at my name; and put on mirthfull cheere, VVhen of my goode state, they by the Sea-Nymphs heare.

Sometimes within my shades, in many an ancient wood, Whose often-twined tops, great Phoebus fires withstood, § The fearelesse British Priests, vnder an aged Oake, Taking a milk-white Bull, vnstrained with the yoke, And with an Axe of gold, from that Ioue-sacred tree The Misslero cut downe; then with a bended 〈◊〉〈◊〉 On th'vnhew'd 〈◊〉〈◊〉, put to the hallowed fires: And whilst in the sharpe flame the trembling flesh expires, As their strong furie mou'd (when all the rest 〈◊〉〈◊〉) Pronouncing their desires the sacrifice before, Vp to th'eternall heauen their bloodied hands did reare: And, whilst the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 woods euen 〈◊〉〈◊〉 as with feare, Preacht to the beardlesse youth, the soules immortall state; To other bodies still how it should transmigrate, That to contempt of death them strongly might excite.

To dwell in my blacke shades the Wood-gods did delight, Vntroden with resort that long so gloomy were, As when the Roman came, it strooke him sad with feare

To looke vpon my face, which then was call'd the Darke; Vntill in after time, the English for a marke Gaue me this hatefull name, which I must euer beare, And Anglesey from them am called euery where.

My Brooks (to whose sweet brimmes the Syluans did resort, Inglyding through my shades, to mightie Neptunes Court, Of their huge Oakes bereft) to heauen so open lie, That now ther's not a roote discern'd by any eye: My Brent, a pretty Beck, attending Menas mouth, VVith those her sister Rills, that beare vpon the South, Guint, forth along with her Lewenny that doth draw; And next to them againe, the fat and moory Frawe, § Which with my Princes Court I some-time pleas'd to grace, As those that to the West directly runne their race. Smooth Allo in her fall, that Lynon in doth take; Mathanon, that amaine doth tow'rds Moylroniad make, The Sea-calfes to behold that bleach them on her shore, Which Gweger to her gets, as to increase her store. Then Dulas to the North that straineth, as to see The Ile that breedeth Mice: whose store so lothsome bee, That shee in Neptunes brack her blewish head doth hide.

VVhen now the wearied Muse her burthen hauing ply'd, Her selfe a while betakes to bathe her in the Sound; And quitting in her course the goodly Monian ground, Assayes the Penmenmaur, and her cleere eyes doth throwe On Conway, tow'rds the East, to England back to goe: Where finding Denbigh fayre, and Flint not out of sight, Cryes yet afresh for Wales, and for Brutes ancient right.

Illustrations.

MOre Westerne are you carried into Merioneth, Carnaruan, Anglesey, & those maritime coasts of Northwales.

The last her genuine lawes which stoutlie did retaine.

Vnder William Rufus, the Norman-English (animated by the good successe which Robert Fitz-hamon had first against Rees ap Tiddour, Prince of South∣wales, and afterward against Iestin, Lord of Glamorgan) beeing very desirous of these Welsh territories; Hugh, a 1.657 surnamed Wolfe, Earle of Chester, did ho∣mage to the King for Tegengl and Ryuonioc, with all the Land by the Sea vnto Conwey. And thus pretending title, got also possession of Merioneth, frō Gruf∣fith ap Conan, Prince of Northwales: but hee soone recouered it, and thence left it continued in his posteritie, vntill Lhewelyin ap Gruffith, vnder Edward 1. lost it, himselfe, and all his dominion. Wheras other parts (of South and West∣wales especially) had before subiected themselues to the English Crowne; this,

through frequency of craggie Mountaines, accessible with too much difficul∣ty; being the last stronge refuge vntill that period of fatall conquest.

Of those two noble armes into the land that beare.

In the confines of Merioneth and Cardigan, where these Riuers ioyntly poure themselues into the Irish Ocean, are these two armes or creekes of the Sea, famous, as he saith, through Guinethia (that is one of the old titles of this North-Wales) by their names of Craeth 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Craeth Bachan. i. as it were, the great hauen, and the little hauen; Craeth a 1.658, in British, signifying atract of Sand where on the Sea flowes, and the ebbe discouers.

Into that spacious Lake where Dee vnmixt doth flow.

That is Lbin-tegid (otherwise call'd by the English Pemelsmere) through which, Dee rising in this part runnes whole and vnmixt, neyther Lake nor Ri∣uer communicating to each other water of fish; as the Author anon tels you. In the b 1.659 ancients, is remembred specially the like of Rhosne running vnmixt and (as it were) ouer the Lake of Geneus; as, for a greater wonder, the most learned Casaubon c 1.660 hath deliuered also of Arua, running whole through Rhosne; and diuers other such like are in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 collection of Natures most strange effects in waters.

The multitude of Wolues that long this land annoy'd.

Our excellent Edgar (hauing first enlarged his name with diligent and reli∣gious performance of charitable magnificence among his English, and confir∣med the farre-spred opinion of his greatnes, by receipt of homage at Chester from VIII. Kings; as you shall see in and to the next Song) for encrease of his benefits towards the Isle, ioyned with preseruation of his Crowne-dueties con∣uerted the tribute of the Welsh into CCC. Wolues a yeare, as the Author shews; The King that paid it;
〈◊〉〈◊〉 yer he huld is terme rent ac the berthe was behinde
〈◊〉〈◊〉 he lende the king word that he ne mighte ne mo binde,
As, according to the story my old Rimer deliuers it. Whom you are to account for this Ludwall K. of Wales in the Welsh historie, except Howel ap Ieuaf, that made warre against his vncle Iago, deliuered his father, and tooke on himselfe the whole Principality towards the later yeares of Edgar, I know not. But this was not an vtter destruction of them; for, since that d 1.661 time, the Mannor of Pid∣dlesley in Leicester shire was held by one Henry of Angage, per serieantiam capi∣endi lupos, as the inquisition deliuers it.

S. Helens wondrous way—

By Festeneog in the confines of Caernaraan and Merioneth is this high way of note; so call'd by the British, and supposed made by that Helen, mother to Constantine (among her other good deedes) of whom to the last Song before.

As leuell as the lake vntill the generall flood.

So is the opinion of some Diuines e 1.662, that, vntill after the floud, were no Mountaines, but that by congestion of sand, earth, and such stuffe as we now see hils strangely fraughted with, in the waters they were first cast vp. But in that

true Secretary of Diuinity and nature, Selomoh a 1.663 speaking as in the person of Wisedome, you read; Before the Mountaines were founded, and before the hils I was formed, that is, before the worlds beginning; and in holy b 1.664 Writ elsewhere, the Mountaines ascend, and the Valleyes descend to the place where thou didst found them; good authorities to iustifie Mountaines before the Floud. The same question hath beene of Isles, but I will peremptorily determine neither.

And with sterne Eolus blasts, like Thetis waxing ranke.

The South-West wind constrained betweene two hils on both sides of the Lake, sometimes so violently fils the Riuer out of the Lakes store, that both haue beene affirmed (but somewhat against truth) neuer to be disturbed, or ouerflow, but vpon tempestuous blasts, whereas indeed (as Powel deliuers) they are ouerfilled with raine and land-flouds, as well as other Waters; but most of all moued by that impetuous wind.

Still Delos like wherin a wandering Isle doth floate.

Of this Isle in the water on top of Snowdon, and of One-eide 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Trouts, and Perches, in another Lake there, Girald is witnes. Let him performe his word; I will not be his surety for it. The Author alludes to that state of Delos, which is fained c 1.665 before it was with pillars fastned in the Sea for Latona's child birth.

That with the terme of Welsh the English now imbase.

For this name of Welsh is vnknown to the British themselues, and imposed on them, as an ancient and common opinion is, by the Saxons, calling them Walsh. i. strangers. Others fabulously haue talk of Wallo and Wandolena, whence it should be deriued. But you shall come neerer truth, if vpon the community of name, customes, and originall, twixt the Gaules and Britons, you coniecture them call'd Walsh, as it were, Gualsh (the W. oftentimes being in steed of the Gu.) which expresses them to be Gaules rather then strangers; although in the Saxon (which is d 1.666 obserued) it was vsed for the name of Gaules, Strangers, and Barbarous perhaps in such kind as in this Kingdome the name of e 1.667 French∣man, hath by inclusion comprehended all kind of Aliens.

Was little Britaine call'd—

See a touch of this in the passage os the Virgins to the V III. Song. Others affirme, that vnder f 1.668 Constantine, of our Britons Colonies were there placed; and from some of these the name of that now Dukedome, to haue had its beginning. There be g 1.669 also that will iustifie the British name to haue been in that tract long before, and for proofe cite Dionysius h 1.670 Afer, and i 1.671 Pliny; But for the first, it is not likely that hee euer meant that Continent, but this of Ours, as the learned tell you; and for Pliny, seeing he reckons his Bri∣tons of Gaule in the confines of the now France, & lower Germany, it is as vnlike∣ly that twixt them and little Bretaigne should be any such habitude. You want not authority, affirming that Our Britons from them k 1.672, before they from ours, had deduction of this nationall title; but my beliefe admits it not. The surer opinion is to referre the name vnto those Britons, which (being expell'd the Island at the entry of the Saxons) got then new habitation in this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 part, as beside other authority an expresse assertion is in an old Fragment of a

French historie * 1.673 which you may ioyne with most worthy Camdens treatise on this matter; whither (for a learned declaration of it) I send you.

Forewarned was in dreames that of the Britons raigne.

Cadwallader driuen to forsake this land, especially by reason of plague & fa∣mine, tyrannizing among his subiects, ioyned with continuall irruptions of the English, retyred himselfe into little Bretaigne, to his cozen Alan there King:where, in a dreame he was admonisht by an Angel (I iustifie it but by the story) that a period of the British Empire was now come, and vntill time of Merlins prophecie, giuen to King Arthur, his country or posterity should haue no restitution; & further, that he should take his iourney to Rome, where, for a transitory he might receiue an eternall Kingdome. Alan, vpon report of this vision, compares it with the Eagles prophesies, the Sibylles verses, & Mer∣lin; nor found he but all were concording in praediction of this ceasing of the * 1.674 British Monarchie. Through his aduice therefore, and a prepared affection, Cadwallader takes voyage to Rome, receiued of PP. Sergius, with holy tincture, the name of Peter, and within very short time there died, his body very lately vnder Pope Gregory the XIII. was found k 1.675 buried by S. Peters Tombe, where it yet remaines; and White of Basing stoch sayes, he had a piece of his ray∣ment of a Chesnut colour, taken vp (with the corps) vncorrupted; which hee accounts, as a Romish Pupill, no slight miracle. It was added among British tra∣ditions, that, when Cadwalladers bones l 1.676 were brought into this Isle, then should the posterity of their Princes haue restitution: concerning that, you haue en∣ough to the II. Song. Obseruing concurrence of time and difference of relati∣on in the storie of this Prince, I know not well how to giue my selfe or the Rea¦der satisfaction. In Monmouth, Robert of Gloccster, Florilegus, and their follow∣ers, Cadwallader is made the sonne of Cadwallo K. of the Britons before him; but so, that he descended also from English-Saxon bloud; his mother being daugh∣ter to Penda K. of Mercland. Our Monkes call him K. of West-Saxons, successor to Kentwine, and sonne to Kenbrith. And where Caradoc Lhancaruan tels you of warres twixt Ine or Iuor (successor to Cadwallader) and Kentwine, it appeares in our Chronographers that Kentwine must be dead aboue three years before. But how soeuer these things might be reconcileable, I thinke cleerely that Cad∣wallader * 1.677 in the British, and Cedwalla K. of West-Saxons in Bede, Malmesbury, Florence, Huntingdon, and other stories of the English, are not the same, as Gef∣frey, and, out of Girald, Randall of Chester, and others since erroniously haue af∣firmed. But strongly you may hold, that Cadwallo or Caswallo, liuing about DC. XL. slaine by Oswald K. of Northumberland, was the same with Bedes first Cedwalla, whom he cals K. of Britons, and that by misconceit of his two Cedwals (the other being, almost L. years after, K. of West-Saxons) and by communica∣ting of each others attributes vpon indistinct names, without obseruation of their seuerall times, these discordant relations of them, which in storie are too palpable, had their first being. But to satisfie you in present, I keepe my selfe to the course of our ordinary stories, by reason of difficulty in finding an exact truth in all. Touching his going to Rome; thus: Some will, that he was Christi∣an before, and receiued of Sergius onely confirmation; others, that hee had there his first Baptisme, and liued not aboue a moneth after; which time (to make all dissonant) is extended to VIII. yeares in Lhancaruan. That, one K. Cedwall went to Rome, is plaine by all, with his now imposed name and buri∣all there: For his baptisme before, I haue no direct authority but in Polychroni∣con; many arguments prouing him indeed a well-willer to Christianity, but as one that had not yet receiued its holy testimony. The very phrale in most of

our Historians is plaine that he was baptized; and so also his Epitaph then made at Rome, in part here inserted.

a 1.678 Percipiéns{que} alacer 〈◊〉〈◊〉 praemis vitae,
〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉, nomen & inde suum,
Conuersus 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Petrúm{que} vocari,
Sergius antistcs, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vs ipse pater
Fonte renascontis, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Christi gratia purgans
Protinùs ablatum vexit in arce Polt.
This shews also his short life afterward, and agrees fully with the English story. * 1.679 His honorable affection to Religion, before his clensing marke of regenera∣tion, * 1.680 is seene in that kind respect giuen by him to Wilfrid first Bishop of Sele∣sey in Sussex; where the Episcopall See of Chichester (hither was it translated from Selesey, vnder William the Conqueror) acknowledges in publique monu∣ments, rather him founder then 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the first Christian King of that Pro∣uince, from whom Cedwalla violently tooke both life and Kingdom: nor doth it lesse appeare, in that his paying Tenths of such spoyles, as by wars fortune, ac∣crued * 1.681 to his greatnes; which notwithstanding, although done by one then not receiued into the Church of eyther Testament, is not without many examples among the ancient Gentiles, who therein imitating the Hebrews, Tirhed much of their possessions, and acquired substance to such Deities as vnhallowed reli∣gion taught them to adore; which, whether they did vpon Mystery in the Number, or, therein as paying first fruits (for the word 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 which was for A∣bels offerings, and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 for Melchisedechs tithes, according to that lesse * 1.682 cal∣culation in Cabalistique Concordance of identity's in different words, are of e∣quall number, and by consequent of like interpretation) I leaue to my Reader. Speaking of this, I cannot but wonder at that very wonder of learning b 1.683 Ioseph Scaliger, affirming, tithes among those Ancients onely payable to Hercules; whereas by expresse witnes of an c 1.684 old inscription at `Delphos, and the common report of Camillus, it is iustified, that both Greekes and Romans did the like to Apollo, and no lesse, among them and others together, was to Mars d 1.685 Iupiter, e 1.686 Iuno, f 1.687 and the number of Gods in generall, to whom the Athenians dedicated the Tenth part g 1.688 of Lesbos. He which the Author, after the British, cals here Iuor, is affirmed the same with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 K. of Westfex in our Monkish Chronicles, al∣though there be scarce any congruity twixt them in his descent. What follows is but historicall and continued succession of their Princes.

More excellent then those which our good Howel here.

For, Howel Dha first Prince of Southwales and Powis, after vpon death of his cozen Edwal Voel, of Northwales also, by mature aduise in a full Councell of Barons and Bishops, made diuers 〈◊〉〈◊〉 constitutions. By these, Wales (vn∣till Edward I.) was ruled. So some say; but the truth is, that before Ed. I conque∣red Wales, and, as it seemes, from XXVIII. but especially XXXV. of Hen. III. his Empire enlarged among them, the English Kings Writ did runne there. For when Ed. I. sent Commission to h 1.689 Reginald of Grey, Thomas Bishop of S. Dewies, and Walter of Hopton, to enquire of their customs, and by what lawes they were ruled, diuers Cases were vpon oath returned, which by, and according to; the Kingslaw, if it were betweene Lords or the Princes themselues, had beene de∣termined; if betweene Tenants, then by the Lords seising it into his hands, vn∣till discouery of the title in his Court; but also that none were decided by the lawes of Howel Dha. Of them, in Lhuya's annotations to the Welsh Chronicle,

you haue some particulars, and in the Roule which hath aided me. Touching those other of Molmutius and Martia, somewhat to the IX. Song.

Vsto subiection stoup, or makes vs Britons beare Th'vnweldy Norman yoake—

Snowdon properly speakes all for the glory of his country, and followes sup∣positions of the British storie, discording herein with ours. For in Matthew Paris, and Florileg us vnder the yeare CIO. LXXVIII. I read that the Conqueror subdued Wales, and tooke homage and hostages of the Princes; so of Hen. I. CIO. C. XIII. Hen. II. in CIO. C. LVII. and other times; Of this Hen. II. hath beene vnderstood that prophecie of Merlin, When the freckle fac't Prince (so was the King) passes ouer, * 1.690 Khyd Pencarn, then should the Welsh forces be weakned. For hein this expedition against Rees ap Gryffith into South-Wales, comming mounted neere that Foord in Glamorgan, his Steed madded with sudden sound of Trumpets, on the banke violently, out of the purposed way, carries him through the Ford: which compar'd with that of Merlin gaue to the British ar∣mieno small discomfiture; as a i 1.691 Cambro-Briton, then liuing, hath deliuered. But, that their stories and ours are so different in these things, it can be no mar∣uell to any that knowes how often it is vsed among k 1.692 Historians, to flatter their owne nation, and wrong the honor of their enemies. See the first note here for Rufus his time.

And from the English Power the Emperiall Standard tooke.

Henry of Essex, at this time Standard bearer to Hen. II. in a straight at Coun∣sylth neere Flint, cast downe the Standard, thereby animating the Welsh, and discomfiting the English, adding much danger to the dishonor. He was after∣ward accused by Robert of Montfort, of a trayterous designe in the action. To cleere himselfe, he challenges the combat: they both, with the royall assent and iudiciall course by law of armes, enter the lists, where Montfort had the victory, and Essex pardoned for his life; but forfeyting l 1.693 all his substance, en∣tred Religion, and profest in the Abbey of Reding, where the combat was per∣formed. I remember a great m 1.694 Clerke of those times sayes, that Montfort spent a whole night of deuotions to S. Denis (so I vnderstand him, although his copie seeme corrupted) which could make Champtons inuincible; whereto he referres the successe. That it was vsuall for Combatants to pray ouer night to seuerall Saints, is plaine by n 1.695 our Law-annals.

Or any eare had heard the sound of Florida.

About the yeare CIO. C. LXX. Madoc, brother to Dauid ap Owen, Prince of Wales, made this Sea voyage; and, by probability, those names of Capo de Bre∣ton in Norumbeg, and Pengwin in part of the Northerne America, for a white Rocke and a white headed Bird, according to the British, were reliques of this discouery. So that the Welsh may challenge priority, of finding that new world, before the Spaniard, Genoway, and all other mentioned in Lopez, Mari∣naeus, Cortez, and the rest of that kind.

And with that Croggins name let th'English vs disgrace.

The first cause of this name, take thus: In one of Henry the II. his expedi∣tions

into Wales, diuers of his Campesent to assay a passage ouer Offa's-Dike, at Crogen Castle were entertained with preuention by British forces, most of them there slaine, and, to present view, yet lying buried. Afterward, this a 1.696 word Crogen, the English vsed to the Welsh, but as remembring cause of reuenge for such a slaughter, although time hath made it vsuall in ignorant mouthes for a disgracefull attribute.

To his vnbridled will our neckes we neuer bow'd.

Sufficiently iustifiable is this of K. Iohn, although our Monkes therein not much discording from British relation, deliuer, that he subdued all Wales; e∣specially this Northern * 1.697 part vnto Snowdon, and receiu'd XX. hostages for sure∣ty of future obedience. For, at first, Lhewelin ap Iorwerth P. of North-Wales, had by force ioyn'd with 〈◊〉〈◊〉 gem the better hand, and compeld the English Campeto victuall themselues with Horse-flesh; but afterward indeed vpon a second rode made into Wales, K. Iohn had the conquest. This compared with those changes ensuing vpon the Popes wrongfull vncrowning him, his Ba∣rons rebellion, and aduantages in the meane time taken by the Welsh, proues onely that, his winnings here were little better then imaginary, as on a Tra∣gique Stage. The stories may, but it fits not me to informe you of large parti∣culars.

As Fate had spar'dour fall till Edward Longshankes raigne.

But withall obserue the truth of Storie in the meane time. Of all our Kings vntill Iohn, somewhat you haue already. After him, Hen. III. had warres with Lhewelin ap Iorwerth; who (a most worthy Prince) desiring to blesse his feebler dayes, with such composed quiet, as inclining age affects, at last put himselfe into the Kings protection. Within short space dying, lest all to his sonnes, Dauid and Gruffyth; but Dauid onely being legitimat, had title of gouern¦ment. He by Charter b 1.698 submits himselfe and his Principality to the English Crowne, acknowledges that hee would stand to the iudgement of the Kings Court, in controuersies twixt his brother and himselfe, and that what portions soeuer wereso allotted to eyther of them, they would hold of the Crownein Chiefe; and briefly makes himselfe and his Barons (they ioyning in doing ho∣mage) Tenants, and subiects of England. All this was confirmed by oth, but the oth, through fauour, purchast at Rome, and delegat authority in that kind to the Abbots of Cowey and Remer, was (according to perswasion of those times, the more easily induced, because gaine of Regallliberty was the consequent) soone released, and in lieu of obedience, they all drew their rebellious swords; whereto they were the sonner vrged, for that the King had transferr'd the Prin∣cipality * 1.699 of Wales (by name of vn à cum Conquestu nostro Walliae) to Pr. Edward Long shankes (afterward Edward I.) since when our Soueraignes eldest sonnes haue borne that hopefull Title. But when this Edward, after his father, succee∣ded in the English Crowne, soone came that fatall conuersion, here spoken of by the Author, euen executed in as great and worthy a Prince, as euer that third part of the Isle was ruled by; that is Lhewelin ap Gruffyth, who (after vncertaine fortune of warre, on both sides, and reuolting of Southwales) was constrained to * 1.700 enter a truce (or rather subiection) resigning his Principality to be annexed wholly to the Crown, after his death, and reseruing, for his life only, the Isle of Anglesey and fiue Baronies in Snowdon, for which the Kings Exchequer should receiue a yearely rent of CIO. Markes, granting also that all the Baronies in Wales should bee held of the King, excepting those fiue reserued, with diuers

other particulars in Walsingham, Matthew of Westminster, Nicholas Triuet, and Humfrey Lhuyd, at large reported. The Articles, of this instrument were not long obserued, but at length the death of Lhewelin, spending his last breath for maintenance of his Ancestors rights against his owne couenant, freely cast vpon K. Edward all that, whereof he was, as it were instituted there. What en∣sued, and how Wales was gouerned afterward, and subiect to England, Stories and the Statute of a 1.701 Ruthlan will largely shew you; and see what I haue to the VII. Song. In all that followes concerning Edward of Carnaruan, the Author is plaine enough. And concluding, obserue this proper personating of Snow∣don Hill, whose limits and adiacent territories are best witnesses, both of the English assaults, and pacifying couenants betweene both Princes.

Was call'd in former times her country Cambria's mother.

In the Welsh Prouerb * 1.702 mon mam symbry b 1.703, in such sense as Sicile was stiled Italies c 1.704 Store-house, by reason of fertile ground, and plentious liberality of corne thence yearely supplied. And Girald tels me, that this little Isle was wont to be able to furnish all Wales with such prouision, as Snowdon Hills were for Pasture. Of its antiquities and particulars, with plaine confutation of that idle opinion in Polydore, Hector Boethius, and others, taking the (now cald) Isle of Man for this Mon (now Anglesey) learned Lhuyd in his Epistle to Orte∣lius hath sufficient. Although it be diuided as an Isle (but rather by a shallow Forde, then a Sea: and in the Roman times, we see by Tacitus, that Paulinus and Agricola's souldiers swamme ouer it) yet is it, and of ancient time hath beene, a County by it selfe, as Caernaruan, Denbigh, and the rest neighbouring.

That the Eubonian Man, a Kingdome long time knowne.

It is an Isle lying twixt Cumberland, and the Irish Doun County, almost in the mid-Sea, as long since Iulius 〈◊〉〈◊〉 could affirme, calling it d 1.705 Mona, which be∣ing equiualent, as well for this, as for Anglesey, hath with imposture blinded some knowing men. Nennius (the eldest Historian amongst vs extant) giues it the name of Eubonia-manay, like that here vsed by the Author. It was of an∣cient time gouerned by Kings of its owne, as you may see in the Chronicle of Russin, deduced from time of S. Edward, into the raigne of Edward the se∣cond. After this, the gouernment of the English and Scots were now and then interchanged in it, being at last recouered, and with continuance, ruled by such as the fauour of our Soueraignes (to whose Crowne e 1.706 it belonged) honoured with that title King of Man. It is at this day, and since time of Henry IIII. hath p 1.707 beene, in that Noble family of the Stanley's Earles of Derby; as also is the patronage of the Bishoprique of Sodor, whereto is all iudiciall gouernement of the Isle refer'd. There was long since a Controuersie, whether it belonged to Ireland or England (for you may see in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 g 1.708 law, with which, in that kind, ours somewhat agrees, that all lesser Isles are reckoned part of some ad∣ioyning continent, if both vnder the same Empire) and this by reason of the equall distance from both. To decide it, they tryed if it would endure vene∣mous beasts, which is certainly denied of Ireland; and, finding that it did, h 1.709 ad∣iudged it to our Britaine. The other Isles here spoken of, lie further North by Scotland, and are to it subiect.

The fearles British Priests vnder an aged Oake.

He means the Druids; because they are indeed, as he cals them, British Priests, & that this Island was of old their Mother: whence, as from a Seminary, Gaule was furnisht with their learning. Permit me some space more largely to satisfie you in their NAME, PROFESSION, SACRIFICE, PLACES of Assembling, and lastly, SVBVERSION. The name of Druids hath beene drawne from 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. i. an Oake, because of their continuall a 1.710 vsing that Tree as su∣perstitiously hallowed: according as they are call'd also 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 or b 1.711 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, which likewise, in Greeke, is OldOakes. To this compare the British word Derw of the same signification, and, the Originall here sought for, will seeme surely found. But one, c 1.712 that deriues all from Dutch, and prodigiously supposes that the first tonguespoken, makes them so stiled from Crow wis. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 truely wise, so expressing their nature in their name. Nor is this without good reason of coniecture (if the ground were true) seeing that their like in proportion among the Iewes and Gentiles were call'd (vntill Pythagoras his tirne) VVise-man * 1.713, and afterward by him turn'd into the name of Philosophers. i. Louers of wisedome; and perhaps the old Dutch was, as some learned thinke, communicated to Gaule, and from thence hither; the coniecture being somewhat aided in that attribute which they haue in Pomponius d 1.714, calling them Masters of wisedome. A late great e 1.715 Scholler drawes it from Trutin, in an old Dutch copy of the Gos∣pel, signifying, as he saies, God; which might be giuen them by Hyperboly of super∣stitious reuerence: nay, we see that it is iustifiable by holy Writ, so to call great Magistrates and Iudges; as they were among the people. But that word Tru∣tin or Truchtin in the old Angelicall salutation, Zacharies Song, and Simeons, published by Vulcan, is alwayes Lord; as this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 li truehtin got 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 1. Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, and so in the Saxon ten Commandements, Ic 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Dnihten 〈◊〉〈◊〉 God. i. I am the Lord thy God. These are the etymologies which sauor of any iudgement. To speake of King Druis or Sarron, which that f 1.716 Dominican Frier hath cozened vulgar credulity withall, and thence fetch their name, according to Doctor White of Basingstoke, were with him to suffer, and, at once, offer imposture. Of them all, I incline to the first, seeing it meets in both tongues Greeke and British; and somewhat the rather too, because An∣tiquity did crowne their infernall Deities, (and from Dis, if you trust 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the Gaules, and by consequence our Britons, vpon tradition of these Priests, drew their descent) with Oake; as g 1.717 Sophocles hath it of Hecate, and * 1.718 Catullus of the three Destinies. Neyther will I desire you to spend conceit vpon examinati∣on of that supposition which makes the name h 1.719 corrupted from Durcergliis, which in Scottish were such as had a holy charge committed to them; where∣vpon, perhaps, Bale sayes S. Columban was the chiefe of the Druids: I reckon that among the infinit Fables and grosse absurdities, which its Author hath, without iudgement, stuft himselfe withall. For their PROFESSION, it was both of learning Profane and Holy (I speake in all, applying my words to their times:) They sate as Iudges, and determined all causes emergent, ciuill and criminall, subiecting the disobedient, and such as made default to inter∣dicts, and censures, prohibiting them from sacred asseniblies, taking away their capacities in honorable offices, and so disabling them, that (as our now Out-lawes, excommunicats, and attainted persons) they might not com∣mence suit against any man. In a multitude of verses they deliuered what they taught, not suffering it to be committed to writing, so imitating both Cabalists, Pythagoreans and ancient * 1.720 Christians; but vsed in other priuat and publique busines Greeke letters, as Caesars copies haue: but hereof see more to the X.

Song. Their more priuat and sacred learning consisted in Diuinity, and Phi∣losophy (see some what of that to the I Song,) which was such, that although I thinke you may truely say with Origen a 1.721, that, before our Sauiours time, Bri∣tain acknowledged not one true God, yet it came as neere to what they should haue done, or rather neerer, then most of other eyther Greeke or Roman, as by their positions in Casar, Strabe, Lucan, and the like discoursing of them, you may be satisfied. For although Apollo, Mars, and Mercury were worshipt a∣mong the vulgar Gaules, yet it appeares that the Druids inuocation was to one b 1.722 All-healing or All sauing power. In Morality, their instructions, were so per∣swasiue, and themselues of such reuerence, that the most fiery rage of Mars kindled among the people, was by their graue counsels c 1.723 often quenched. Out of Pliny receiue their forme of rituall SACRIFICE (here described by the Author) thus: In such gloomy shadows, as they most vsually for contempla∣tion retired their ascending thoughts into, after exact search, finding an Oake, whereon a Mistletoe grew, on the VI. day of the Moone (aboue all other times) in which, was beginning of their yeare, they religiously and with inuoca∣tion brought with them to it a ceremoniall banquet, materials for sacrifice, with two white Bulles, filleted on the hornes, all which they plac'd vnder the Oake. One of them, honoured with that function, clothed all in white, climbs the tree, and with a golden Knife or Sith cuts the Mistletoe, which they so∣lemnly wrapt in one of their white garments. Then did they sacrifice the Buls, earnestly calling on the * 1.724 All-healing Deity, to make it prosperous and happy on whom soeuer they shal bestow it, and accounted it both preseruatiue against all Poisons, and a remedy against Barrennes. If I should imagine by this All∣healing Deity, to be meant Apollo, whom they worshipt vnder name of Belin (as I tel you to the VIII. Song) my couiecture were euery way receiueable; seeing that Apollo d 1.725 had both among Greeks and Latins the Diuine titles of * 1.726 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, Medicus, and to him the inuocation was * 1.727 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 all concurring in the same proofe; but also if they had (as probability is enough to coniecture it) an Altar inscrib'd for this deuotion, and vsed Greek letters (which to the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Song shall be somwhat examined) I could well think the dedication thus conceiu'd.
* 1.728 〈◊〉〈◊〉,.
〈◊〉〈◊〉,.
〈◊〉〈◊〉
OR,
* 1.729 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
Which, very probably, was meant by some, making in Latin termination, and neerer Apollo's name
* 1.730 DEO
ABELLIONI.
As, an Inscription, in Gaule, to abiding memory committed by that most no∣ble Ioseph e 1.731 Scaliger is red; and perhaps some reliques or allusion to this name is in that
DEO
SANCTO BELA∣TVCADRO......
Yet remayning in f 1.732 Cumberland. Nor is it strange that Apollo's name should be

thus farre of ancient time, before communication of Religion twixt these Northerne parts and the learned Gentiles, seeing that Casar affirmes him for one of their Deities; and, long before that, Abarts (about the beginning of the g 1.733 Olympiads) an Hyperborean is recorded for h 1.734 Apollo's Priest among the vtmost Scythians, being further from Hellenisme then our Britisb. But I returne to the Mistle: Hereto hath some referred i 1.735 that which the Sibyll counsell'd AEneas to carrie with him to Proserpine 5
—* 1.736 latet arbore opacâ
Aureus & folijs & lento vimine ramus
Iunoni infernae dictus sacer: bunc tegit omnis
Lucus, & obscuris claudunt conuallibus vmbrae.
Which may as well be so applied, as to k 1.737 Chymistry; seeing it agrees also with what I spake before of Dis, and that, Virgil expresly compares it to the Mistle,
—* 1.738 quod non suaseminat arbos.
for it springs out of some particular Nature of the Oaken stemme, wherupon it is called by an old Poet 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉: and although it be not ordinarily found * 1.739 vpon Oakes, yet, that of times it is, any Apothecary can tell, which preserueth it for medicine, as the Ancients vsed to make Lime of it to catch birds: of which l 1.740 Argentarius hath an admonitory Epigram to a Blacke-bird, that she should not sing vpon the Oake, because that
—* 1.741 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉,
but on the Vine, dedicated to Bacchus, a great fauorit of Singers. Vpon this Druidian custome m 1.742, some haue grounded that vnto this day vsed in France, where the yonger country fellowes, about New-yeares tide in euery Village giue the wish of good fortune at the Inhabitants dores, with this acclamati∣on, * 1.743 Au guy l'an neuf; which, as I remember, in Rablais is read all one word, for the same purpose. Whether this had any community with the institution of that n 1.744 Temple * 1.745 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 in Antiun, or that Ouid alluded to it in that verse, commonly cited out of him,
At (some read ad) Viscum Druide, Viscum clamare solebant;
I cannot assure you, yet it is enough likely. But I see a custome in some parts among vs, in our language (nor is the digression too faulty) the same in effect; I meane the yearely was-haile in the country on the vigil of the New yeare, which had its beginning, as some p 1.746 say from that of Ronix (Daugh∣ter to Hengist) her drinking to Vortigern, by these wordes * 1.747 Louero king was-heil, he answering her by direction of an Interpreter, Drinc-heile, and q 1.748 then,
Kuste hire and sitte hirc adoune and glad dronke hire heil
And that was tho in this land the berst was hail
As in langage of Saroyne that mt might euere iwite
And so wel he paith the folc about, that he is not yut voryute.
Afterward it appeares that was-haile and Drinc-heil were the vsuall phrases of * 1.749 quassing among the English, as we see in r 1.750 Thomas de la Moore, and before him that old s 1.751 Hauillan, thus:
Ecce vagante cifo distento gutture wass-heil
Ingeminant wass-heil—
But I rather coniecture it a vsuall ceremony among the Saxons before Hen∣gist, as a nore of health-wishing (and so perhaps you might make it wish-heil)

which was exprest among other nations in that form of drinking to the Health of their Mistresses and friends,
Bene * 1.752 ves, benè nos, benè te, benè me, benè 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Stephanium.
in * 1.753 Plautus, and infinit other testimonies of that nature (in him Martiall, Ouid, Horace, and such more) agreeing neerely with the fashion now vsed; we calling it a Health, as * 1.754 they did also in direct termes; which, with an Idoll call'd 〈◊〉〈◊〉, anciently worshipt, at Cerne in a 1.755 Dorsetshire, by the English Savens, in name expresses both the ceremony of Drinking, and the New years acclama∣tion (whereto in some parts of this Kingdome is ioyn'd also solemnity of drin∣king out of a * 1.756 cup, ritually compos'd deckt, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with countrey 〈◊〉〈◊〉) iust as much & as the same 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that All-healing 〈◊〉〈◊〉, or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 medicine did among the Druids. Yo may to al this adde, that, as an Earnest of good luck to follow the New-yeare beginning, it was x 1.757 vsuall among the Romans, as with vs and I thinke, in all Europe, at this day is, to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 each other with auspici∣ous gifts. But hereof you say I vnfitly expatiat: I omit, therefore their sacri∣ficing of humane bodies, and such like, and come to the PLACES of their assembly. This was about Chartres in Gaule, as Caesar telsvs; Poul Merula (for affinity of name) imagines it to be Dreux, some eight miles on this side Char∣tres. And peraduenture the Galatians publique Councell called y 1.758 Drymene∣tum had hence Originall. The British Druids tooke this Isle of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (then well stored with thicke Woods, and religious Groues, in so much that it was called * 1.759 〈◊〉〈◊〉) for their chieferesidence; as, in the Roman z 1.760 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Paulinus and Agricola's aduenturing on it, is deliuered. For their SVBVER∣SION; vnder Augustus and Tiberius they were prohibited a 1.761 Rome; and Clau∣dius', endeuoured it in b 1.762 Gaule; yet in the succeeding Emperors times there were of them left, as appeares in Lampridius and Vopisous, mentioning them in their liues; and, long since that, Procopius c 1.763 writing vnder 〈◊〉〈◊〉 aboue D. yeares after Christ, affirmes that then the Gaules vsed sacrifices of human 〈◊〉〈◊〉, which was a part of Druidian doctrin. If I should vpon testimony d 1.764 of, I know not what, Veremund Campbell and the Irish Cornill, tell you that some CLX. yeares before Christ, Finnan K. of Scotland first gaue them the Isle, or that K. Crathlint in Diocletians persecution, turned their Religion into Christianisme, and made Ampbibalus first Bishop of Sodor, I should fabuleusly abusetime, as they haue ignotantly mistooke that Isle of Man, for this. Or to speake of the supposed their 〈◊〉〈◊〉. t. a Pentagonall figure, ingrauen with 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 or 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 (it is the same, in fashion, with the victorious seale of Antiochus 〈◊〉〈◊〉 e 1.765, being admonished by Alexander in a dreame, to take it) which in Germany they rec∣kon for a preseruatiue against Hobgoblins, were but to be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 olde wiues traditions. Onely thus much for a corollary, I will note to you; Conrad f 1.766 〈◊〉〈◊〉 obserues, to be in an Abbey at the foot of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hil, neer Vottland, six Statues, of stone, set in the Church-wall, some VII. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 euery one tall, bare head and foote, cloakt and hooded, with a bagge, a booke, a staffe, a beard hanging to his middle, and spreading a Mustachio, an austere looke and eyes fixt on the earth; which he coniectures to be Images of them. Vpon mis∣taking of Strabo, and applying what he saith in generall, and bracelets and gold chaines of the Gaules, to the Druids, I once thought that Courad had beene deceiued. But I can now vpon better aduice incline to his iudgement.

Which with my Princes Court I sometimes pleas'd to grace.

For, as in Southwales, Caermardhin, and afterward Dineuomr; in Powis, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and then Mathraual, so in Northwales was 〈◊〉〈◊〉, in Anglesey, chiefe place of the Princes g 1.767 residence.

Least (by reason of the Composition in Print) some pages should haue 〈◊〉〈◊〉 idle, and because also here is so much of the Welsh Storie, I inserted this Chronologie of the Kings and Princes of Wales, from Arthur, vntill the end of the British bloud in them.

Of Christ.

D. XVI.

Arthur succeeded his father Vther Pendragon: of his death, see to the III. Song.

D. XLII.

Constantine, sonne to Cador Duke of Cornwall (vn∣derstand * 1.768 Gouernor or L. Lieutenant; for, neither in those times nor long after, was any such title particularly Ho∣norary:) he lies buried at 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

DXLV.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 Conan.

D. LXXVIII.

Vortipor.

D. LXXXI.

Malgo.

D. LXXXVI.

Catheric. In his time the Britons had much aduerse fortune in Warre with the Saxons; and then, most of all, made that secession into Wales and Cornwal, yet in name retayning hereof remembrance.

About DC.

Cadwan.

About DC. XXX.

Cadwalin or Cadwallo: the Britons as in token of his Powerfull resistance and dominion against the Saxons, put * 1.769 him, being dead, into a brazen Horse, and set it on the top of the West gate of London; it seemes he means Ludgate.

DC. LXXVI.

Cadwallader, sonne to Cadwallo. Of him and his name, see before. Nor thinke I the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and English Chro∣nicles, concerning him, reconcileable. In him the chief Monarchy and Glory of the British failed.

DC. LXXXVIII.

Iuor sonne to Alan, K. of Armorique Britaine. This Iuor they make (but I examine it not now) Ine K. of West-Saxons in our Monkes; that is, he which began the Pee∣ter-pence to Rome.

DCC. XX.

Roderique Molwinoc sonne of Edwal * 1.770 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

DCC. LV.

Conan Tindaet 〈◊〉〈◊〉, sonne of Roderique.

Neer DCCC. XX.

Meruin Vrich, in right of his wife Esylht, daughter and heire to Roderique.

DCCC. XLIII.

Roderique Mawr, sonne to Mervin and 〈◊〉〈◊〉. A∣mong his sonnes was the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 diuision of Wales (as to the VII. Song) into Powise, North, and Southwales.

DCCC. LXXVII.

Anarawd sonne to Roderique.

DCCCC. XIII.

Edward Voel, sonne of Anarawd.

DCCCC. XL.

Howel Dha, cozen German to Edwal, hauing, before,

DCCCC. XL VIII.

Ieuaf and Iago, sonnes of Edwal Vocl.

DCCCC. LXXXII

Howel ap Ieuaf.

DCCCC. XXCIV.

Cadwalhon ap Ieuaf.

DCCCC. XXCVI.

Meredith ap Owen.

DCCCC. XCII.

Edwal ap Metric.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. III.

AEdan ap Blegored.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 XV.

Lhewelin ap 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. XXI.

Iago ap Edwal ap Meyric.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. XXXVII.

Gruffyth ap Lhewelin.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 LXI.

Blethin and Rhywallon ap Conuin.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. LXXIII.

Trahaern ap Caradoc.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. LXXVIII.

Gruffyth ap Conan. He reform'd the Welsh Poets and Minstrels, and brought ouer others out of Ireland to in∣struct the Welsh, as to the IV. Song.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. C. XXXVII.

Owen Gwineth ap Gruffyth ap Conan.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. C. LXIX.

Dauid ap Owen Gwineth. In his time, Madoc his bro∣ther discouered part of the West Indies.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. C. XCIV.

Lhewelin ap Iorwerth ap Owen Gwineth.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CC. XL.

Dauid ap Lhewelin ap Iorwerth.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CC. XLVI.

Lhewelin ap Gruffyth ap Lhewelin ap Iorwerth; the last Prince of Wales of the British bloud.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CC. LXXXII.

Ed. 1. Conquered Wales, and got the Principality, Lhewelin then slaine; and since that (Henry III. before gaue it also to his sonne Prince Edward) it hath beene in the eldest sonnes, and heires apparant of the English Crowne.

But note, that after the Diuision among Roderique Mawr's sonnes, the Prin∣cipality was chiefly in Northwales, and the rest as Tributary to Prince of that Part: and for him as supreme K. of Wales, are all these deductions of time and Persons, vntill this last Lhewelin.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The tenth Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

The serious Muse her selfe applyes To Merlins ancient prophecies, At Dinas Emris; where hee show'd How Fate the Britaines rule be stow'd. To Conway next she turnes her tale, And sings her Cluyds renowned Vale; Then of Saint Winifrid doth tell, And all the wonders of her Well; Makes Dee, Bruit's historie pursue: At which, shee bids her Wales Adieu.

A While thus taking breath, our way yet faire in view, The Muse her former course doth seriously pursue. From Penmens craggy height to try her saily wings, * 1.771 Her selfe long hauing bath'd in the delicious Springs (That trembling from his top through long-worne crannies creepe, To spend their liquid store on the insatiate Deepe) Shee meets with Conway first, which lyeth next at hand: * 1.772 Whose precious orient Pearle that breedeth in her sand, Aboue the other floods of Britaine doth her grace: Into the Irish Sea which making out her race, Supply'd by many a Mere (through many seuerall Rills Into her bosome pour'd) her plentiously fhee fills. O goodly Riuer! neere vnto thy sacred Spring § Prophetique Merlin sate, when to the British King The changes long to come, auspiciously he told. Most happy were thy Nymphs, that wondring did behold, His grauer wrinkled brow, amazed and did heare The dreadfull words he spake, that so ambiguous were. Thrice happy Brooks, I say, that (euery way about) Thy tributaries be: as is that Towne, where-out Into the Sea thou fall'st, which Conway of thy name Perpetually is call'd, to register thy fame. For thou, cleere Conway, heard'st wise Merlin first relate The Destinies Decree, of Britains future fate;

VVhich truly he fore-told proud Vortiger should lose: As, when him from his seat the Saxons should depose: The forces that should heere from c 1.773 Armorick arriue, Yet farre too weake from hence the enemie to driue: And to that mightie King, which rashly vnder-tooke A strong-wall'd Tower to reare, those earthly spirits that shooke The great foundation still, in Dragons horrid shape, That dreaming Wisard told; making the Mountaine gape With his most powerfull charmes, to view those Caverns deepe; And from the top of * 1.774 Brith, so high and wondrous steepe, Where Dinas Emr is stood, shew'd where the Serpents fought, The White that tore the Red; from whence the Prophet wrought The Britains sad decay then shortly to ensue.

O! happy yee that heard the man who all things knew Vntill the generall Doome, through all the world admyr'd: By whose Prophetick Sawes yee all became inspyr'd; As well the forked Neage, that neer'st her Fountaine springs, With her beloued maid, Melandidar, that brings Her flowe, where Conway forth into the Sea doth slide (That to their Mistris make from the Denbighian side) As those that from the hills of proud Carnarvan fall.

This scarce the Muse had said, but Cluyd doth quickly call Her great recourse, to come and gard her while shee glide Along the goodly Vale (which with her wealthy pride Much beautifies her banks; so naturally her owne, That Dyffren Cluyd by her both farre and neere is knowne) With high embatteld hills that each way is enclos'd * 1.775 But onely on the North: and to the North dispos'd, Fierce Bore as finds accesse to court the dainty Vale: Who, whisp'ring in her eare with many a want on tale, Allures her to his loue (his Leman her to make) As one that in himselfe much suffreth for her sake.

The d 1.776 Orcades, and all those ^d Eubides imbrac't In Neptunes aged armes, to Neptune seeming chast, Yet prostitute themselues to Bore as; who neglects The Calidonian Downes, nor ought at all respects The other in-land Dales, abroad that scattred lie, Some on the English earth, and some in Albany; But, courting Dyffren Cluyd, her beautie doth prefer. Such dalliance as alone the North-wind hath with her, Orithya not enioy'd, from Thrace when hee her tooke, * 1.777 And in his saylie plumes the trembling Virgin shooke: But through the extreame loue hee to this Vale doth beare, Growes iealous at the length, and mightily doth feare Great Neptune, whom he sees to smug his horrid face: And, fearing least the God should so obtaine her grace,

From the Septentrion cold, in the breem freezing ayre, VVhere the bleake North-wind keeps, still dominering there, From Shetland stradling wide, his foote on Thuly sets: Whence storming, all the vast Deucalidon hee threts, * 1.778 And beares his boystrous waues into the narrower mouth Of the Vergiuian Sea: where meeting, from the South, Great Neptunes surlier tides, with their robustious shocks, Each other shoulder vp against the griesly Rocks; As strong men when they meet, contending for the path: But, comming neere the Coast where Cluyd her dwelling hath, The North-wind (calme become) forgets his Ire to wreake, § And the delicious Vale thus mildly doth bespeake;

Deere Cluyd, th'aboundant sweets, that from thy bosome flowe, When with my actiue wings into the ayre I throwe, Those Hills whose hoarie heads seeme in the clouds to dwell, Of aged become young, enamor'd with the smell Of th'odoriferous flowers in thy most precious lap: Within whose veluit leaues, when I my selfe enwrap, They suffocare with sents; that (from my natiue kind) I seeme some slowe perfume, and not the swiftest wind. With ioy, my Dyffren Cluyd, I see thee brauely spred, Survaying euery part, from foote vp to thy head; Thy full and youthfull breasts, which in their meadowy pride, Are brancht with riuery veines, Meander-like that glide. I further note in thee, more excellent then these (Were there a thing that more the amorous eye might please) Thy plumpe and swelling wombe, whose mellowy gleabe doth beare The yellow ripened sheafe, that bendeth with the eare.

VVhilst in this sort his sute he amorously preferd, Moylvennill neere at hand, the North-wind ouer-heard: And, vexed at the hart, that he a Mountaine great, Which long time in his breast had felt loues kindly heat, As one whom crystall Cluyd had with her beauty caught, Is for that Riuers sake neere of his wits distraught, VVith inly rage to heare that Valley so extold; And yet that Brooke whose course so batfull makes her mould, And one that lends that Vale her most renowned name, Should of her meaner farre, be ouer-gone in fame. Wherefore, Moylevennill will'd his Cluyd her selfe to showe: Who, from her natiue Fount, as proudly shee doth flowe, * 1.779 Her hand-maids Manian hath, and Hespin, her to bring To Ruthin. Whose faire seate first kindly visiting, To lead her thence in state, Lewenny lends her sourse: That when Moylvennill sees his Riuers great recourse, From his intrenched top is pleas'd with her supplies. Claweddock commeth in, and Istrad likewise hies

Vnto the Queene-like Cluyd, as shee to Denbigh drawes: And on the other side, from whence the Morning dawes, Downe from the Flintian hills, comes Wheler, her to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 To sacred Asaph's See, his hallowed Temple; where Faire Elwy hauing wonne her sister Aleds power, They entertaine their Cluyd neere mighty Neptunes bower: Who likewise is sustain'd by Senion, last that falls, And from the Virgins Well doth wash old Ruthlands walls.

Moylvennill with her sight that neuer is suffic'd, Now with excessiue ioy so strongly is surpriz'd, That thus he proudly spake; On the Gwynethian ground (And looke from East to West) what Country is there crown'd As thou b 1.780 Tegeniae art? that, with a Vale so rich (Cut thorough with the Cluyd, whose graces me bewitch) The fruitfulst of all Wales, so long hast honor'd bin: As also by thy Spring, such wonder who dost win, § That naturally remote, sixe British miles from Sea, And rising on the Firme, yet in the naturall day Twice falling, twice doth fill, in most admired wise. * 1.781 VVhen Cynthia from the East vnto the South doth rise, That mighty Neptune flowes, then strangly ebs thy Well: And when againe he sinks, as strangely shee doth swell; § Yet to the sacred fount of Winifrid giues place; Of all the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Springs of such especiall grace, That oft the * 1.782 Deuian Nymphs, as also those that keepe Amongst the Corall-Groues in the Vergiuian Deepe, Haue left their watry bowers, their secret safe Retire, To 〈◊〉〈◊〉 her whom report so greatly should admire (VVhose waters to this day as perfect are and cleere, As her delightfull eyes in their full beauties were, A virgin while she liu'd) chaste 〈◊〉〈◊〉: who chose Before her mayden-gem she forcibly would lose, To haue her harmlesse life by the leud Rapter spilt: For which, still more and more to aggrauate his guilt, The liuelesse teares shee shed, into a Fountaine turne. And, that for her alone the water should not mourne, The pure vermillion bloud, that issu'd from her vaines, Vnto this very day the pearly Grauell staines; As erst the white and red were mixed in her 〈◊〉〈◊〉. And, that one part of her might be the other like, Her haire was turn'd to mosse; whose sweetnesse doth declare, In liuelinesse of youth the naturall sweets she bare: And of her holy life the innocence to show, What-euer liuing thing into this Well you throwe, Shee strongly beares it vp, not suffring it to sinke. Besides, the wholesome vse in bathing, or in drinke

Doth the diseased cure, as thereto shee did leaue Her vertue with her name, that time should not bereaue.

Scarce of this tedious tale Moylevennill made an end, But that the higher a 1.783 Yale, whose beeing doth ascend Into the pleasant East, his loftier head aduanc't. This Region, as a man that long had been intranc't (Whilst thus himselfe to please, the mightie Mountaine tells Such * 1.784 farlies of his Cluyd, and of his wondrous Wells) Stood thinking what to doe: least faire Tegenia, plac't So admirably well, might hold her selfe disgrac't By his so barren site, be'ing Mountainous and cold, To nothing more vnlike then Dyffren's batfull mould; And in respect of her, to be accounted rude.

Yale, for he would not be confounded quite by Cluyd (And for his common want, to coyne some poore excuse) Vnto his proper praise, discreetly doth produce A Valley, for a Vale, of her peculiar kind; In goodnesse, breadth, and length, though Dyffren farre behind: On this yet dare he stand, that for the naturall frame, § That figure of the Crosse, of which it takes the name, Is equall with the best, which else excell it farre: And by the power of that most sacred Character, Respect beyond the rest vnto herselfe doth win.

When now the sterner Dee doth instantly begin His ampler selfe to showe, that (downe the verdant Dale) Straines, in his nobler course along the rougher Yale, T'invite his fauouring Brookes: where from that spacious Lin Through which he comes vnmixt, first Alwin falleth in: And going on along, still gathering vp his force, * 1.785 Gets Gerrow to his ayde, to hasten on his course. With Christioneth next, comes Keriog in apace. Out of the leaden Mines, then with her sullied face Claweddock casts about where Gwenrow shee may greet, Till like two louing friends they vnder Wrexam meet. Then Alen makes approach (to Dee mostinly deere) Taking Tegiddog in; who, earnest to be there, For haste, twice vnder earth her crystall head doth runne: VVhen instantly againe, Dee's holinesse begun, By his contracted front and sterner waues, to show That he had things to speake, might profit them to know; A Brooke, that was suppos'd much business to haue seene, Which had b 1.786 an ancient bound twixt Wales and England been, And noted was by both to be an ominous Flood, That changing of his Foards, the future ill, or good, Of either Country told; of eithers warre, or peace, The sicknes, or the health, the dearth, or the increase:

And that of all the Floods of Britaine, he might boast His streame in former times to haue been honor'd most, When as at Chester once king Edgar held his Court, § To whom eight lesser Kings with homage did resort: That mightie Mercian Lord, him in his Barge bestow'd, And was by all those Kings about the Riuer row'd. For which, the hallowed Dee so much vpon him tooke. And now the time was come, that this imperious Brooke, The long traduced Brute determin'd to awake, And in the Britains right thus boldly to them spake;

O yee the ancient race of famous Brute that bee, § And thou the Queene of Iles, great Britaine; vvhy doe yee Your Grand-sires God-like name (with a neglectfull eare) In so reproachfull tearmes and ignominy heare, By euery one of late contemptuouslie disgra'ct; That he whom Time so long, and strongly hath imbrac't, Should be reiected quite? The reason vrged why, Is by the generall foe thus answer'd by and by: That Brutus, as you say, by Sea who hither came, From whom you would suppose this Ile first tooke the name, Mecrelie fictitious is; nor could the Romans heare (Most studious of the truth, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 those times that were) Of any such as hee: nay, they who most doe striue, From that great stock of Troy their linage to deriue, In all the large descent of Iulus, neuer found That Brute, on whom wee might our first beginning ground.

To this Assertion, thus I faithfully reply; And as a friend to Truth, doe constant lie denie Antiquitie to them, as neerer to those times; Their writings to precede our ancient British Rimes: But that our noble Bards which so diuinely sung That remnant of old Troy, of which the Britaines sprung, Before those Romans were, as proofe we can produce; § And learning, long with vs, eret'was with them in vse. And they but idly talke, vpbrayding vs with lies. § That Geffray Monmouth, first, our Brutus did deuise, Not heard of till his time our Aduersary saies: When pregnantlie wee proue, ere that Historians dayes, A thousand ling'ring yeeres, our Prophets cleerely song The Britaine-founding Brute, most frequent them among. From Taliessen wise (approued so with vs, That what he spake, was held to be oraculous, So true his writings were) and such immortall men As this now-waning world shall hardly heare agen In our owne genuine tongue, that natiues were of Wales Our Geffray had his Brute. Nor were these idle tales

(As he may find, the truth of our descents that seekes) Nor fabulous, like those deuised by the Greeks: But from the first of Time, by Iudges still were heard, Discreetlie euery a 1.787 yeere correcting where they err'd.

And that whereon our Foe his greatest hold doth take, Against the handled Cause and most doth seeme to make, Is, that we shewe no Booke our Brutus to approue; But that our idle Bards, as their fond rage did moue, Sang what their fancies pleas'd. Thus doe I answere these; That th'ancient British Priests, the fearlesse Druides,* 1.788 That ministred the lawes, and were so trulie wise, That they determin'd states, attending sacrifice, § To letters neuer would their mysteries commit, For which the breasts of men they deem'd to be more fit. VVhich questionlesse should seeme from iudgement to proceed. For, when of Ages past wee looke in bookes to read, Wee retchlesly discharge our memory of those. So when iniurious Time, such Monuments doth lose (As what so great a Work, by Time that is not wrackt?) VVee vtterly forgoe that memorable act: But when we lay it vp within the minds of men, They leaue it their next Age; that, leaues it hers agen: So strongly which (me thinks) doth for Tradition make, As if you from the world it altogether take, You vtterly subuert Antiquitie thereby. For though Time well may proue that often shee doth lie, Posteritie by her yet many things hath known, That ere men learn'd to write, could no way haue been shown: For, if the spirit of God, did not our faith assure The Scriptures be from heauen, like heauen, diuinely pure, Of Moses mightie works, I reuerently may say (I speake with godlie feare) Tradition put away, In power of humane wit it easely doth not lie To proue before the Flood the Genealogie. Nor any thing there is that kindlier doth agree With our descent from Troy (if things compar'd may be) Then peopling of this place, neere to those Ages, when Exiled by the Greeks, those poore world-wandring men (Of all hope to returne into their Country reft) Sought shores whereon to set that little them was left: From some such God-like race we questionlesse did spring, Who soone became so great heere once inhabiting. So barbarous nor were wee as manie haue vs made, And Coesars envious pen would all the world perswade, His owne ambitious ends in seeking to aduance, When with his Roman power arriuing heere from France,

If hee the Britains found experienc't so in warre, That they with such great skill could weeld their armed Carre; And, as he still came on, his skilfull march to let, Cut downe their aged Oakes, and in the Riuers set The sharpe steele-poynted stakes, as hee the Foards should pass; I faine would vnderstand how this that Nation was So ignorant hee would make, and yet so knowing warre.

But, in things past so long (for all the world) we are Like to a man embarqu't, and trauelling the Deepe: Who sayling by some hill, or promontory steepe Which iuts into the Sea, with an amazed eye Beholds the Cleeues thrust vp into the lofty skie. And th'more that hee doth looke, the more it drawes his sight; Now at the craggy front, then at the wondrous weight: But, from the passed shore still as the swelling saile (Thrust forward by the wind) the floating Barque doth haile, The mightie Giant-heape, so lesse and lesser still Appeareth to the eye, vntill the monstrous hill At length shewes like a cloud; and further beeing cast, Is out of kenning quite: So, of the Ages past; Those things that in their Age much to be wondred were, Still as wing-footed Time them farther off doth beare, Doe lessen euery howre. When now the mighty prease, Impatient of his speech, intreat the Flood to cease, And cry with one consent, the Saxon state to showe, As angry with the Muse such labour to bestowe On Wales, but England still neglected thus to be.

And hauing past the time, the honorable Dee At Chester was arriu'd, and bad them all adieu: When our intended course, with England we pursue.

Illustrations.

REturning into the land, the Muse leads you about Denbigh and Flint, most Northerne and Maritim shires of Wales; which conclude these seauen last bookes dedicated to the glory of that third part of Great Britaine.

Prophetique Merlin Sate, when to the British King.

In the first declining State of the British Empire (to explane the Author in this of Merlin) Vortigern, by aduice of his Magicians, after diuers vnfortunat successes in warre, resolued to erect a strong Fort in Snowdon hils (not far from Conwey's head in the edge of Merioneth) which might be as his last and surest Refuge, against the increasing power of the English. Masons were appointed, and the worke begun; but what they built in the day, was alwayes swallowed vp in the earth next, night. The King askes counsell of his Magicians, touching this prodigie: they aduise that he must finde out a childe which had no father,

and with his, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sprinkle the stones and motter, and that then the Castle would stand as on a firme foundation. Search was made, and in Caer-Merahin (as you haue it to the V. Song) was Merlin Ambrose found: he, being hither brought to the King, slighted that pretended skill of those Magicians as pallia∣ted ignorance; and with confidence of a more knowing spirit, vndertakes to shew the true cause of that amazing ruine of the stone-worke; tels them that in the earth was a great water, Which could endure continuance of no heauy super∣struction. The workmen digged to discover the truth, & found it so. He then be∣seeches the King to cause them make further inquisition, & affirms, that in the bottome of it were two sleeping Dragons: which proued so likewise, the one white, the other red; the white he interpreted for the Saxons, the red for the Bri∣tons: and vpon this euent here in a 1.789 Dinas Emrys, as they call it, began he those prophecies to Vortigern, which are common in the British storie. Hence questionles was that Fiction of the Muses best pupil, the noble Spenser b 1.790, in sup∣posing Merlin vsually to visit his old Timon, whose dwelling he places
—low in a valley greene
Vnder the foot of Rauran mossie hore
From whence the Riuer Dee as siluer cleene
His tumbling billows rols with gentle rore.

For this Rauran-Vaur hill is there by in Merioneth: but obserue with-all, the difference of the Merlins, Ambrose, and Syluester, which is before to the IV Song; and permit it, only as Poeticall, that he makes K. Arthur and this Mer∣lin of onetime. These prophecies were by Geffrey ap Arthur at request of Alex∣ander Bishop of Lincolne vnder Hen. I. turned into Latine, and some CCC. years * 1.791 since had interpretation bestowed on them by a German Doctor, one Alanus de Insulis, who neuer before, but twice since that happy inauguration & migh∣ty increase of Dominion in our Present Soueraigne hath beene imprinted. It is certaine that oftimes they may be directly and without constraint applyed to some euent of succeeding time; as that which we haue before to the V. Song of Caerleon, and this, the Isle shall againe be named after Brute; which is now seene by a publique Edict, and in some of his Maiesties present Coins, and with more * 1.792 such: yet seeing learned c 1.793 men account him but a professor of vniustifiable Ma∣gique, and that all prophecies eyther fall true, or else are among the affecters of such vanity perpetually expected, and that of later time the Councell of Trent haue by their Expurgatories prohibited it, I should abuse you, if I ende∣uored to perswade your 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to to conceit of a true foreknowledge in him.

And the delicious Vale thus mildly doth be speake.

If your conceit yet see not the purpose of this Fiction, then thus 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it. This Vale of Cluid (for so is the English of Dyphryn Clwyd.) extended from the middle of Denbigh-shire to the Sea, about XVIII. miles long, and some V. in bredth, hauing those three excellencies, a fertile soile, healthful 〈◊〉〈◊〉, & pleasant seat for habitation, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 through the middle with this Riuer, and encompast on the East, West, and South with high Mountaines, freely receiues the whol∣some blasts of the Northwinde (much accounted of among builders and Geo∣poniques for immission of pure ayre) comming in from that part which lies open to the Sea: whereupon the Muse very properly makes the Vale here 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his beloued; and in respect of his violence against the waters, supposeth him iealous of Neptune; whose rauishing waues in that troubled Irish Sea and the deprest state of the Valley warrants it. And for that of Moluennils loue to the Riuer, wantonly running by him; I know your conceit cannot but ap∣prehend it.

That naturally remote six British miles from Sea.

It is in the Parish of Kilken in Flintshire, where it ebbeth d 1.794 and floweth in di∣rect opposit times to the Sea, as the Author describes; they call it e 1.795 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉: Such a one is there about a furlong from the Seuerne Sea, by Newton in f 1.796 Glamorganshire, and another ebbing and flowing (but with the common course of the Moone, ascending or setting) by Dineuor g 1.797 in Caermerdhinshire. Nor thinke I any reasons more difficult to be giuen, then those which are most specially hidden, and most frequently strange in particular qualities of Flouds, Welles, and Springs; in which (before all other) Nature seemes as if she had, for mans wonder, affected a not intelligible variety, so different, so remote from conceit of most piercing wits; and such vnlookt for operations both of their first and second qualities (to vse the Schoole phrase of them) are in euery Chronographer, Naturalist, and Historian.

Yet to the scared fount of Winifrid giues place.

At Haliwell a Maritime village, neere Basingwerke in Flint, is this Winifreds Well, whose sweetnes in the Mosse, wholsomnes for bath, and other such vsefull qualities, haue beene referred to her martyrdome in this place. But D. Powel vpon Girald, in effect thus: Hen. II. in his first Welsh expedition fortified the Castle of Basingwerke, and, neere by, made a Cell for Templers, which continued there vntill their dissolution vnder * 1.798 Edward II. and was after conuerted to a neast of lubberly Monkes, whose superstitious honouring her, more then truth caused this dedication of the Fountaine; so much to their profit (in a kinde of merchandize then, too shamefully in request) that they had large guerdons (it belonging to the Celle) of those, which had there any medi∣cine, beside increasing rents which accrued to them yearely out of Pardons to such as came thither in solemne Pilgrimage. This title of exaction they pur∣chast of PP. Martin V. vnder Henry the V. and added more such gaigning pre∣tences to themselues in time of Hen. VII. by like authority; nor, vntill the more cleere light of the Gospell, yet continuing its comfortable beams among vs, dissipated those foggie mists of error and smoake-selling imposture, ended these collected reuenewes. The Author followes the Legend; but obserue times compared, and you shall find no mention of this Well, and the healthfull operations of it, vntill long after the supposed time of S. Winifreds martyrdom.

That figure of the Crosse of which it takes the name.

Deprest among Mountaines this Valley expresses the forme of a Crosse, and so is call'd the Crosse vale, and in British Lhan Cwest.

To whom eight lesser Kings with homage did resort.

Vpon comparing our Stories. I find them to be Kenneth of Scotland, Mal∣colme of Cumberland, Malcuze K. of the Isles (whom Malmesbury giues onely the name of Archpirat) Donald, Siffreth, Howel, Iago, and Inchithill Kings of Wales. All these, he (thus toucht with imperious affection of glory) sitting at the Sterne, compelled to row him ouer Dee; his greatnes as well in fame as truth, daily at this time increasing, caus'd multitudes of aliens, to admire and visit his Court, as a place honored aboue all other by this so mighty and wor∣thy a Prince: and, through that abundant confluence, such vitious courses fol∣lowed

by example, that, euen now was the age, when first the more simple and frugall natures, of the English, grew infected with what (in some part) yet we languish. For, before his time, the Angles hither traduc'd, being * 1.799 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and vsing, naturals simplicitate sua defensare, aliena non mirart, did now learn from the stranger-Saxons an vnciuill kind of fiercenes, of the Flemings effemi∣nacy, of the Danes drunkennes, and such other; which so increast, that, for a∣mendment of the last, the King was driuen to constitute quantities in quasfing boules by little pinnes of metall, set at certaine distances, beyond which, none durst swallow in that prouccation of good fellowship.

As thou, the Q. of Isles, great Britaine—

Both for excellence in soile and ayre, as also for large continent she hath this 〈◊〉〈◊〉. And although in ancientest time of the Greekes (that hath any story or Chorography) Sardinia was accounted the h 1.800 greatest Isle, and by some Sicily, as the oldverses of the i 1.801 Seauen tell vs, and that by k 1.802 Ptolemy the East-Indian Tapo∣bran, now called Sumatra, had preheminence of quantity before this of ours; yet certainly, by comparison of that with this, eyther according to the mea¦sure tooke of it by Onesicrit l 1.803 vpon Alexanders commandement, or what later time teaches vs, we cannot but affirme with the Author here in substance, that
— * 1.804 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
as, long since, Dionysius Afer of our Britaine, which hath giuen cause to call it Another world, as the attributes of it in Virgill, Horace, Claudian, and others iustifie.

And learning long with vs ere'twas with them in vse.

For the Druids, being in profession very proportionat in many things to Cabalistique and Pythagorean doctrine, may well be suppos'd much ancienter then any that had ncte of learning among the Romans, who m 1.805 before Liuius Salinator, and Naeuius, Ennius, Pacuuius, Accius, and others, not much prece∣ding Caesar, can scarce shew steps of Poesie, nor before Fabius Pictor, Valerius Antias, and some such now left onely in their names (although by pretence of Annius there be a piece of Pictor published) can produce the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of a story; whereas we haue n 1.806 some that make that supposed eldest Historian (of the Gen∣tiles) extant, Dares Phrygius, trauslated by Cornelius Nepos, and dedicated to Sa∣lust, to haue liued here, but indeed vpon no such warrant, as I dare trust.

Our Geffrey Monmouth first our Brutus to deuise.

It was so laid to Geffrey's charge (he was Bishop of S. Asaphs, vnder K. Stephen) by Iohn of Whethamsted, Abbot of S. Albons, William Petit, call'd William of Newborough and some other: but plainly (let the rest of his storie, and the parti∣culars of Brute be as they can) the name of Brute was long before him in Welsn (out of which his storie was partly translated) & Latin testimonies of the Britains, as I haue, for the Author, more largely spoken, to the I. Song. And (a little to continue my first iustification, for this time) why may not we as well think that many stories & relations, anciently written here, haue been by the Picts, Scots, Romans, Danes, Saxons & Normaus, deuoured vp from poslerity, which perhaps, had they bin left to vs, would haue ended this controuersie? Shall we doubt of what Liuy, Polybius, Halicarnasseus, Plutarch, Strabo, and many others haue had out of Fabius, Antias, Chereas, Solylus, Ephorus, Theopompus, Cato, Quadrigari∣us, with infinit other, now lost, writers, because we see not the selfe Authors? No,

Time hath ransackt more pretious things, and euen those superexcellent books, wherein that incomparable Solomon wrote from the Cedar to the Hys∣sop, were (vpon feare of the facile multitudes too much respecting naturall causes in them diuinely handled) by K. Ezechias supprest from succeeding ages, if my c 1.807 Authority deceiue not. So that the losse in this, and all kinds, to the Common-wealth of letters, hath beene so grieuous and irreparable, that wee may well imagine, how errour of conceit in some enuie in others, and hostile inuasion hath bereft vs of many monuments most precious in all sorts of lite∣rature, if we now enioy'd their instructing vse: and to conclude, the antiquities of these Originall ages are like those of Rome, betweene it built and burnt by the Gaules; * 1.808 cum vetustate nimiâ obscurae, velut quae (as d 1.809 Liuy sayes) magno ex interuallo 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉: tum quod perrarae, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 eadem tempora Literae fuêre, vna custodia fidelis memoriae rerum gestarum; &, quod etiam, si quae in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Pontificum aliss{que} publicis priuatis{que} 〈◊〉〈◊〉 monument is, incensa vrbe, plera{que} interiere. But all this in effect the Muse tels you in the VI. Canto.

To letters neuer would their mysteries commit.

What they taught their Schollers for matter of law, Heathenish Religion, and such learning as they here were presidents of, was deliuered e 1.810 only by word of mouth; and, lest memory vnused might so faile, they permitted not com∣mission, of their Lectures and instructions, to the cuslody of writing, but deli∣uered all in a multitude of Verses and Pythagorean precepts, exactly imitating the Cabalists; which, vntill of late time, wrote not, but taught and learned by mouth and diligent hearing of their Rabbins. In other matters, priuat and publique (so is Caesars assertion) they * 1.811 vsed Greeke letters, which hath made some thinke that they wrote Greeke. But be not easily thereto perswaded. Per∣haps they might vse Greeke Characters, seeing that those which the Greekes then had, and now vse, were at first receiued from f 1.812 strangers, and as likely from the Druids as from any other; for it is sufficiently iustifiable out of old Coins, inscriptions, and expresse g 1.813 assertion, that the ancient Character among the Greekes was almost the same with that which is now the Latines. But thence to collect that therefore they wrote or spake Greeke, is as if you should affirme the Syriaque Testament to be Hebrew, because published in He∣brew letters; or some Latin Treatises, Saxon, because in that Character; or that the Saxons wrote Irish, because they vsed the h 1.814 Irish forme of writing; or that those bookes which are published in Dutch by some Iewes in aspeciall kind of Hebrew letter, should also be of the same tongue. Obserue but this passage in Caesar: He sends by a Gaule (allured to this vse against his countrey by large rewards) a letter to Q. Cicero, being then besieged about * 1.815 where now is Tour∣ney, & * 1.816 Graecis conscripsit literis, ne, interceptâ 〈◊〉〈◊〉, nostra (saith he him∣self) ab hostibus Consilia cognoscantur. To what purpose did he thus, if the Gaules, or their Statesmen the Druids Druids vnderstood Greeke? I know what he i 1.817 writes of those Tables of account found in the now Suitzerland, but shall not soone be∣leeue that they had much more Greeke in them then the Character. If you obiect k 1.818 Strabo his affirmance, that the Gaules (for as long as I speak of them in generall in this kind, I well include our Druids, as sufficient reason is elsewhere giuen) were growne such louers of that tongue, * 1.819 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, It is soone answered, that he speakes onely of those about Marsilles, which was, and is well knowne to all men, to haue beene a Colony of Phocians, out of the now Natolia (which were Greekes) by appointment of Fate arriuing at the mouth of Rhosne, about time of Tarquin the Proud; where Protis, one of their chief Leaders, entertained by Nannus K. of that coast, was chosen (accor∣ding

to their custome) in a banquet by Gyptis the Kings daughter for her hus∣band; Hereto 〈◊〉〈◊〉 grew so fortunat, that honorable respect on both sides ioyn'd with imitation of Greeke Ciuility (after this Citie built neere their ar∣riue) it seem'd, as my author a 1.820 sayes, as if Gaule had beene turnd into 〈◊〉〈◊〉, ra∣ther then Greece to haue trauailed into Gaule. Wonder not then why, about Marsilles, Greeke was so respected, nor why in the Romaunt-French now such Hellenismes are: here you see apparant Originall of it; yet conclude, vpon the former reasons, that the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Gaules vsed a peculiar tongue, and very likely the same with the now Welsh, as Most learned Camden hath euen demon∣strated; although I know some great Scholars there are, which still suspend their iudgement, and make it a doubt, as euer things of such antiquity will be. But (if you will) adde heereto that of the famous and great Lawier b 1.821 Hotoman, who presumes that the word * 1.822 Graecis in Caesars text is crept in by ignorance of transcribers, as he well might, seeing those Commentaries, titled with name of I. Caesar, commonly published, & indiuers Mss. with I. Celsus, are very vn∣perfect, now and then abrupt, different in stile, and so variable in their owne forme, that it hath beene much feared by that great * 1.823 Critique Lipsius, lest some more impolite hand hath sow'd many patches of base cloth into that more rich web, as his owne Metaphore expresses it. And if those Characters which are in the pillars 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in Denbighshire, are of the Druids, as some ima∣gine (yet seeming very strange and vncouth) then might you more confident∣ly coucurre in opinion with Hotoman. In summe, I know that 〈◊〉〈◊〉 literis may be taken as wel for the language (as in d 1.824 Iustin I remember, and elsewhere) as for the Character: but here I can neuer thinke it to be vnderstood in any but the last sense, although you admit Caesars copie to be therein not interpo∣lated. It is very iustifiable which the author here implies, by slighting Caesars authority in British Originals, in respect that hee neuer came further into the Isle then a little beyond Thames towards e 1.825 Barkeshire; although some of Ours idly talke of his making the Bath, and being at Chester, as the Scotish Histori∣ans most senslesly of their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 built by him, which others referre f 1.826 to Vespasian, some affirme it a Temple g 1.827 of God Terminus; whereas it seemes 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to be built by Carausius, in time of Dioclesian, if 〈◊〉〈◊〉 deceiue vs not. But, this out of my way.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The eleuenth Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

The Muse, her natiue earth to see, Returnes to England ouer Dee; Visits st out Cheshire, and there showes To her and hers, what England owes; And of the Nymphets sporting there In Wyrrall, and in Delamere. Weeuer, the great deuotion sings Of the religious Saxon Kings; Those Riuerets doth together call, That into him, and Mersey fall; Thence bearing to the side of Peake, This zealous Canto off doth breake.

WIth as vnwearied wings, and in as high a gate As when we first set forth, obseruing euery state, The Muse frō Cambria comes, with pinions summ'd and sound: And hauing put her selfe vpō the English ground, First seiseth in her course the noblest Cestrian shore; § Of our great English bloods as carefull heere of yore, As Cambria of her Brutes, now is, or could be then; For which, our prouerbe calls her, Cheshire, chiefe of men. § And of our Countries, place of Palatine doth hold, And thereto hath her high Regalities enrold: Besides, in many Fields since Conquering William came, Her people shee hath prou'd, to her eternall fame. All, children of her owne, the Leader and the Led, The mightiest men of boane, in her full bosome bred: And neither of them such as cold penurious need Spurs to each rash attempt; but such as soundly feed, Clad in warme English cloth; and maym'd should they returne (Whom this false ruthless world else frō their doores would spurne) Haue liuelihood of their owne, their ages to sustaine. Nor did the Tenants pay, the Land-lords charge maintaine:

But as abroad in warre, he spent of his estate; Returning to his home, his hospitable gate The richer and the poore stood open to receaue. They, Of all England, most to ancient customes cleaue, Their Yeomanry and still 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to vphold. For rightly whilst her selfe braue England was of old, And our courageous Kings vs forth to conquests led, Our Armies in those times (neere through the world so dred) Of our tall Yeomen were, and foot-men for the most; VVho (with their Bills, and Bowes) may confidently boast, § Our Leopards they so long and brauely did advance Aboue the Flower-delice, euen in the hart of France.

O! thou thrice happy Shire, confined so to bee * 1.828 Twixt two so famous Floods, as Mersey is, and Dee. Thy Dee vpon the VVest from Wales doth thee divide: Thy Mersey on the North, from the Lancastrian side, Thy naturall sister Shire; and linkt vnto thee so, That Lancashire along with Cheshire still doth goe. As tow'rds the Derbian Peake, and Moreland (which doe draw More mountainous and wild) the high-crown'd Shutlingslawe And Molcop be thy Mounds, with those proud hills whence roue The louely sister Brooks, the siluery Dane and Doue; Cleere Doue, that makes to Trent; the other to the West. But, in that famous Towne, most happy of the rest (From which thou tak'st thy name) faire Chester, call'd of old § Carelegion; whilst proud Rome her conquests heere did hold Of those her legions known the faithfull station then, So stoutly held to tack by those neere North-Wales men; Yet by her owne 〈◊〉〈◊〉 name had rather called bee, § As her the Britaine tearm'd, The Fortresse vpon Dee, Then vainly shee would seeme a Miracle to stand, Th'imaginary worke of some huge Giants hand: Which if such euer were, Tradition tells not who.

But, backe awhile my Muse: to Weeuer let vs goe, Which (with himselfe compar'd) each British flood doth scorne; His fountaine and his fall, both Chesters rightly borne; The Country in his course, that cleane through doth diuide, Cut in two equall shares vpon his either side: And, what the famous Flood farre more then that enriches, The bracky Fountaines are, those two renowned Wyches, The Nant-Wyche, and the North; whose either brynie Well, For store and sorts of Salts, make Weeuer to excell. Besides their generall vse, not had by him in vaine, § But in him selfe thereby doth holinesse retaine Aboue his fellow Floods: whose healthfull vertues taught, Hath of the Sea-gods oft, caus'd Weeuer to be sought.

For physick in their need and Thetis oft hath seene, When by their wanton sports her Ner'ides haue beene So sick, that Glaucus selfe hath failed in their cure: Yet Weeuer, by his Salts, recouery durst assure. And Amphitrite oft this Wisard Riuer led Into her secret walks (the Depths profound and dread) Of him (suppos'd so wise) the hid euents to knowe Of things that were to come, as things done long agoe. In which he had beene prou'd most exquisite to bee; And bare his fame so farre, that oft twixt him and Dee, Much strife there hath arose in their prophetick skill.

But to conclude his praise, our Weeuer heere doth will The Muse, his sourse to sing; as how his course he steres: Who from his naturall Spring, as from his neighboring Meres Sufficiently supply'd, shootes forth his siluer breast, As though he meant to take directly toward the East; Vntill at length it proues he loytreth, but to play Till Ashbrooke and the Lee o're-take him on the way, VVhich to his iourneys end him earnestly doe haste: Till hauing got to Wyche, hee taking there a taste Of her most sauory Salt, is by the sacred tuch, Forc't faster in his course, his motion quickned much To North-Wyche: and at last, as hee approacheth neere, Dane, Whelock drawes, then Crock, from that black ominous Mere, Accounted one of those that Englands wonders make; Of neighbours, Black-mere nam'd, of strangers, Breretons-Lake; VVhose property seemes farre from Reasons way to stand: For, neere before his death that's owner of the Land, Shee sends vp stocks of trees, that on the top'doo float; By which the world her first did for a wonder note.

His handmayd Howty next, to Weeuer holds her race: When Peever with the helpe of Pickmere, make apace To put-in with those streames his sacred steps that tread, Into the mighty waste of Mersey him to lead. Where, when the Riuers meet, with all their stately 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Proud Mersey is so great in entring of the Maine, As hee would make a shewe for Empery to stand, And wrest the three-forkt Mace from out grym Neptunes hand; To Cheshire highly bound for that his watry store, As to the grosser * 1.829 Loughs on the Lancastrian shore. From hence he getteth Goyt downe from her Peakish spring, And Bollen, that along doth nimbler Birkin bring From Maxfields mightie wildes, of whose shagg'd Sylums shee Hath in the Rocks been woo'd, their Paramour to bee: Who in the darksome holes, and Cauerns kept her long, And that proud Forrest made a party to her wrong.

Yet could not all intreat the pretty Brooke 〈◊〉〈◊〉 stay; Which to her sister streame, sweet Bollen, creeps away. To whom, vpon their road shee pleasantly reports The many mirthfull iests, and wanton woodish sports In Maxfield they haue had; as of that Forrests fate: Vntill they come at length, where Mersey for more state Assuming broder banks, himselfe so proudly beares, That at his sterne approach, extended Wyrrall feares, That (what betwixt his floods of Mersey, and the Dee) In very little time deuoured he might bee: Out of the foaming surge till Hilbre lifts his head, To let the fore-land see how richly he had sped. VVhich Mersey cheeres so much, that with a smyling brow He sawnes on both those Floods; their amorous armes that throw About his goodly neck, and bar'd their swelling breasts: * 1.830 On which whilst lull'd with ease, his pleased cheeke he rests, The Naiades, sitting neere vpon the aged Rocks, Are busied with their combes, to brayd his verdant locks, Whilst in their crystall eyes he doth for Cupids looke: But Delamere from them his fancie quickly tooke, Who shewes herselfe all drest in most delicious flowers; And sitting like a Queene, sees from her shady Bowers The wanton Wood-Nymphs mixt with her light-footed Fawnes, To lead the rurall routs about the goodly Lawnds, As ouer a 1.831 Holt and Heath, as thorough b 1.832 Frith and c 1.833 Fell; And oft at Barly-breake, and Prison-base, to tell (In carrolds as they course) each other all the ioyes, The passages, deceits, the sleights, the amorous toyes The subtile Sea-Nymphs had, their Wyrralls loue to win.

But Weeuer now againe to warne them doth begin To leaue these triuiall toyes, which inly hee did hate, That neither them beseem'd, nor stood with his estate (Beeing one that gaue him selfe industriously to know What Monuments our Kings erected long agoe: To which, the Flood himselfe so wholly did apply, As though vpon his skill, the rest should all rely) And bent himselfe to shewe, that yet the Britains bold, Whom the laborious Muse so highly had extold, Those later Saxon Kings exceld not in their deeds, And therefore with their praise thus zealously proceeds;

Whilst, the celestiall Powers th'arriued time attend When o're this generall Ile the Britaines raigne should end, And for the spoyling Pict heere prosp'rously had wrought, Into th'afflicted Land which strong invasion brought, And to that proud attempt, what yet his power might want, The ill-disposed heauens, Brutes ofspring to supplant,

Their angry plagues downe-pour'd, insatiate in their waste (Needs must they fall, whom heauen doth to destruction haste.) And that which lastly came to consummate the rest, Those prouder Saxon powers (which liberally they prest Against th'invading Pict, of purpose hired in) From those which payd them wage, the Iland soone did win; And sooner ouerspred, beeing Masters of the Field; Those, first for whom they fought, too impotent to wield, A Land within it selfe that had so great a Foe; And therefore thought it fit them wisely to bestow: Which ouer Severne heere they in the Mountaines shut, And some vpon that poynt of Cornwall forth they put. Yet forced were they there their stations to defend.

Nor could our men permit the Britains to descend From Ioue or Mars alone; but brought their blood as hie, § From Woden, by which name they stiled Mercurie. Nor were the race of Brute, which ruled heere before, More zealous to the Gods they brought vnto this shore Then Hengists noble heyres; their Idols that to raise § Heere put their German names vpon our weekly daies.

These noble Saxons were a Nation hard and strong, On sundry Lands and Seas, in warfare nuzzled long; Affliction throughly knew; and in proud Fortunes spight, Euen in the iawes of Death had dar'd her vtmost might: VVho vnder Hengist first, and Horsa, their braue Chiefes, From Germany arriu'd, and with the strong reliefes * 1.834 Of th' Angles and the Iutes, them ready to supply, VVhich anciently had beene of their affinitie, By Scythia first sent out, which could not giue them meat, Were forc't to seeke a soyle wherein themselues to seat. Them at the last on Dansk their lingring fortune draue, Where Holst vnto their troups sufficient harbor gaue. These with the Saxons went, and fortunatly wan: Whose Captaine, Hengist, first a kingdome heere began In Kent; where his great heires, ere other Princes rose Of Saxonies descent, their fulness to oppose, With swelling Humbers side their Empire did confine. And of the rest, not least renowned of their Line, § Good Ethelbert of Kent, th'first christned English King, To preach the faith of Christ, was first did hither bring VVise Augustine the Monke, from holy Gregory sent. This most religious King, with most deuout intent That mightie Fane to Paule, in London did erect, And priuiledges gaue, this Temple to protect.

His equall then in zeale, came Ercombert againe, From that first christned King, the second in that raigne.

The gluttony then vs'd seuerely to suppresse, And make men fit to prayer (much hindred by excesse) § That abstinence from flesh for forty dayes began, Which by the name of Lent is knowne to euery man.

As mighty Hengist heere, by force of Armes had done, § So Ella comming in, soone from the Britaines wonne The Countries neighboring Kent: which lying from the Maine, Directly to the South did properly obtaine The Southerne Saxons name; and not the last thereby Amongst the other raignes which made the Heptarchy: So in the high descent of that South-Saxon King, We in the bead-roule heere of our religious bring Wise Ethelwald: alone who Christian not became, But willing that his folke should all receiue the name, § Saint Wilfrid (sent from Yorke) into his Realme receiu'd (Whom the Northumbrian folke had of his See bereau'd) And on the South of Thames, a seat did him afford, By whom that people first receiu'd the sauing Word.

As likewise from the loynes of Erchinwin (who rais'd Th'East-Saxons kingdome first) braue Sebert may be prais'd: Which, as that King of Kent, had with such cost and state Built Paules; his Greatness so (this King to imitate) Began the goodly Church of Westminster to reare: The Primer English Kings so truly zealous were.

Then * 1.835Sebba of his seed, that did them all surpasse, Who fitter for a shryne then for a scepter was, (Aboue the power of flesh, his appetite to sterue That his desired Christ he strictly might obserue) Euen in his height of life, in health, in body strong, Perswaded with his Queene, a Lady faire and young, To separate themselues, and in a sole estate, After religious sort themselues to dedicate.

Whose Nephew Vffa next, inflam'd with his high praise (Enriching that proud Fane his Grandsire first did raise) Abandoned the world he found so full of strife, And after liu'd in Rome a strict religious life.

Nor these our Princes heere, of that pure Saxon straine, Which tooke vnto themselues each one their seuerall raigne, For their so godly deeds, deserued greater fame Then th' Angles their Allies, that hither with them came; Who sharing-out themselues a kingdome in the East, With th'Easterne Angles name their circuit did invest, By Vffa in that part so happily begun: VVhose successors the Crowne for martyrdome haue won From all before or since that euer suffred heere; § Redwalds religious sonnes: who for their Sauiour deere,

By cruell heathenish hands vnmercifully slaine, Amongst vs euer-more remembred shall remaine, And in the roule of Saints must haue a speciall roome, VVhere Derwald to all times with Erpenwald shall come.

VVhen in that way they went, next Sebert them succeeds, Scarce seconded againe for sanctimonious deeds: VVho for a priuate life when he his rule resign'd, And to his Cloyster long had strictly him confin'd, A Corslet for his Cowle was glad againe to take His Country to defend (for his religions sake) Against proud Penda, com'n with all his Pagan power, Those christned Angles then of purpose to deuour: And suffring with his folke, by Penda's heathenish pride, As hee a Saint had liu'd, a constant Martyr dy'd.

VVhen, after it fell out, that Offa had not long Held that by cruell force, which Penda got by wrong, § Adopting for his heire young Edmond, brought him in, Euen at what time the Danes this Iland sought to win: Who christned soone became, and as religious growne As those most heathenish were who set him on his throne, Did expiate in that place his predecessors guilt, VVhich so much Christian blood so cruelly had spilt. For, taken by the Danes, who did all tortures try, His Sauiour Iesus Christ to force him to deny; First beating him with bats, but no advantage got, His body full of shafts then cruelly they shot; The constant martyr'd King, a Saint thus iustly crown'd. To whom euen in that place, that Monument renown'd Those after-Ages built to his eternall fame. VVhat English hath not heard * 1.836Saint Edmonds Buries name?

As of those Angles heere, so from their loynes againe, VVhose hands hew'd out their way to the West-Sexian raigne (From Kenrick, or that claime from Cerdick to descend) A partnership in fame great Ina might pretend VVith any King since first the Saxons came to shore. Of all those christned heere, who highlier did adore The God-head, then that man? or more that man? or more that did apply His power t'advance the Church in true sincerity? Great Glastenbury then so wondrously decay'd, Whose old foundation first the ancient Britains lay'd, He gloriously rebuilt, enriching it with plate, And many a sumptuous Cope, to vses consecrate: Ordayning godly lawes for gouerning this Land, Of all the Saxon Kings the Solon hee shall stand.

From Otta (borne with him who did this Ile invade)* 1.837 And had a conquest first of the Northumbrians made,

And tributarie long of mightier Hengist held, Till Ida (after borne) the Kentish power expeld, And absolutely sate on the Dierian seat, But afterward resign'd to Ethelfrid the Great: An Army into Wales who for invasion led, At Chester and in fight their forces vanquished; Into their vtter spoyle, then publique way to make, The long Religious house of goodly Bangor brake, § And slew a thousand Monks, as they deuoutly pray'd. For which his cruell spoyle vpon the Christians made (Though with the iust consent of Christian Saxons slaine) His blood, the hethenish hands of Redwald did distaine. That murtherers issue next, this kingdome were cxil'd: And Edwyn tooke the rule; a Prince as iust and mild As th'other faithlesse were: nor could time euer bring In all the seauen-fold rule an absoluter King; And more t'aduance the fayth, his vtmost power that lent: § VVho reordained Yorke a Bishops gouernment; And so much lov'd the poore, that in the waies of trade, VVhere Fountaines fitly were, hee Iron dishes made, And fastned them with chaynes the way farer to ease, And the poore Pilgrims thirst, there resting, to appease.

As Mercia, mongst the rest, sought not the least to raise The sauing Christian fayth, nor merits humbler praise. § Nor those that from the stem of Saxon Creda came (The Britains who expulst) were any whit in fame, For pietie and zeale, behind the others best; Though heathenish Penda long and proudly did infest The christned neighboring Kings, and forc't them all to bow; Till Oswy made, to God, a most religious vow, Of his aboundant grace would hee be pleas'd to grant, That he this Panim Prince in battell might supplant, A Recluse he would giue his daughter and delight, Sweet Alfled then in youth, and as the Morning, bright: And hauing his request, hee gaue as hee obtayn'd; Though his vnnaturall hands succeeding Wulpher stayn'd In his owne childrens blood, whom their deare mother had § Confirm'd in Christs beliefe, by that most reuerent Chad: Yet to embrace the fayth when after he began (For the vnnaturalst deed that e're was done by man) If possible it were to expiate his guilt, Heere many a goodly house to holy vses built: And shee (to purge his crime on her deere children done) A crowned Queene, for him, became a valed Nun.

What Age a godlier Prince then Etheldred could bring? Or then our Kinred heere, a more religious King?

Both taking them the Cowle, th'one heere his flesh did came, The other went to Rome, and there a Monke became.

So, Ethelbald may well be set the rest among: Who, though most vainly giuen when he was hot and young; Yet, by the wise reproofe of godly Bishops brought From those vnstay'd delights by which his youth was caught, Hee all the former Kings of Mercia did exceed, § And (through his Rule) the Church from taxes strongly freed. Then to the Easterne sea, in that deepe watry Fen (Which seem'd a thing so much impossible to men) Hee that great Abby built of Crowland; as though hee Would haue no others worke like his foundation bee.

As, Offa greater farre then any him before: Whose conquests scarcely were suffic'd with all the shore; But ouer into Wales adventurously hee shot His Mercia's spacious a 1.838 Meere, and Powsland to it got. This King, euen in that place, where with rude heapes of stones § The Britains had interr'd their Proto-martyrs bones, That goodly Abby built to Alban; as to showe How much the sonnes of Brute should to the Saxons owe.

But when by powerfull heauen, it was decreed at last, That all those seauen-fold Rules should into one be cast (Which quickly to a head by b 1.839 Britriks death was brought) Then Egbert, who in France had carefully been taught, Returning home, was King of the West-Sexians made. Whose people, then most rich and potent, him perswade (As once it was of old) to Monarchize the Land. Who following their advise, first with a warlike hand The Cornish ouer-came; and thence, with prosperous sailes, O're Severne set his powers into the hart of Wales; And with the Mercians there, a bloody battell wag'd: Wherein he wan their Rule; and with his wounds enrag'd, Went on against the rest. Which, sadly when they sawe How those had sped before, with most subiectiue awe Submit them to his sword: who prosperously alone Reduc't the seauen-fold Rule, to his peculiar throne § (Extirping other stiles) and gaue it Englands name Ofth' Angles, from whose race his nobler fathers came.

When scarcely Egbert heere an entire Rule began, But instantly the c 1.840 Dane the Iland ouer-ran; A people, that their owne those Saxons payd againe. For, as the Britaines first they treacherously had slaine, This third vpon their necks a heauier burthen lay'd Then they had vpon those whom falsly they betray'd. And for each others states, though oft they here did toyle, § A people from their first bent naturally to spoyle,

That crueltie with them from their beginning brought. Yet when the Christian fayth in them had throughly wrought, Of any in the world no story shall vs tell, Which did the Saxon race in pious deeds excell: That in these drowsie times should I in publique bring Each great peculiar Act of euery godly King, The world might stand amaz'd in this our Age to see Those goodly Fanes of theirs, which irreligious wee Let euery day decay; and yet we onely liue By the great Freedoms then those Kings to these did giue.

Wise Segbert (worthy praise) preparing vs the seat § Of famous Cambridge first, then with endowments great The Muses to maintaine, those Sisters thither brought.

By whose example, next, religious Alfred taught, Renowned Oxford built t' Apollo's learned brood; And on the hallowed banke of Isis goodly Flood, Worthy the glorious Arts, did gorgeous Bowres prouide. § He into seuerall Shires the kingdome did divide.

So, valiant Edgar, first, most happily destroy'd The multitudes of Wolues, that long the Land annoy'd. And our good Edward heere, the Confessor and King (Vnto whose sumptuous Shrine our Monarchs offrings bring) That cankred Euill cur'd, bred twixt the throat and iawes. When Physick could not find the remedy nor cause, And much it did afflict his sickly people heere, Hee of Almightie God obtain'd by earnest pray'r, This Tumour by a King might cured be alone: § Which he an heyre-loome left vnto the English Throne. So, our Saint Edward heere, for Englands generall vse, § Our Countries Common lawes did faithfully produce, Both from th'old British writ, and from the Saxon tongue.

Of Forrests, Hills, and Floods, when now a mighty throng For Audience cry'd aloud; because they late had heard, That some high Cambrian hills the Wrekin proudly dar'd With words that very much had stirr'd his rancorous spleene. VVhere, though cleere Severne set her Princely selfe betweene The English and the Welsh, yet could not make them cease. Heere, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as a Flood affecting godly peace, His place of speech resignes; and to the Muse refers The hearing of the Cause, to stickle all these stirs.

Illustrations.

NOw are you newly out of Wales, returned into England: and, for conueni∣ency of situation, imitating therein the ordinary course of Chorography, the first Shire Eastward (from 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Flint, last sung by the Muse) 〈◊〉〈◊〉, is here surueyed.

Of our great English blouds as carefull—

For, as generally in these Northern parts of England, the Gentry is srom an∣cient time left preserued in continuance of Name, Bloud, and Place; so most particularly in this Cheshire, and the adioyning Lancashire: which, out of their numerous families, of the same name, with their chiefe Houses and Lordships, * 1.841 hath b 1.842 beene obserued.

And, of our Counties, Place of Palatine doth hold.

We haue in England III. more of that title, Lancaster, Durham, and Ely: and, vntill later c 1.843 time, Hexamshire in the Westerne part of Northumberland, was so reputed. William the Conqueror, first created one Hugh Wolfe a Norman, Count Palatine of Chester, and gaue the Earledome to hold, as freely as the King held his Crowne. By this supremacy of liberty he made to himselfe Barons, which might assist him in Counsell, and had their Courts and Conisans of Pleas in such sort regarding the Earledome, as other Barons the Crowne. * 1.844 Ego Comes Hugo & mei Barones confirmauimus ista omnia, is subscribed to a Charter, wher∣by he founded the Monastery of S. Werburg there. For the Name of Palatine, know, that in ancient time vnder the Emperours of declining Rome, the title of Count Palatine was; but so, that it extended first only to him d 1.845 which had care of the Houshold and Imperiall reuenew; which is now (so saith e 1.846 Wesembech: I affirme it not) as the Marshall in other Courts: but was also communicated by that Honorary attribute of Comitiua Dignit as, to many others, which had any thing proportionat, place or desart, as the Code teacheth vs. In later times both in Germany (as you see in the Palsgrane of Rhine) in France, (which the Earledome of Champagne shewes long time since in the Crowne; yet keeping a distinct Pálatine Gouernment, as Peeter Pithou ^f hath at large published) and in this Kingdome such were hereditarily honored with it, as being neere the Prince in the Court (which they, as we, called the Palace) had by their State∣carriage, gain'd full opinion of their worth, and ability in gouernement, by de∣legat * 1.847 Power of territories to them committed, and heere after titled Countes de Palais, as our Law annals call them. If you desire more particulars of the Power and great State of this Palatine Earledome, I had rather (for a speciall reason) send you to the marriage of Hen. III. and Q. Elianor in Matthew Paris; where Iohn Scot, then Earle of Chester bare, before the King; S Edwards Sword, call'd Curtein, which the Prince at Coronation of Henry IV. is recorded to haue done as g 1.848 Duke of Lancaster; and wish you to examine the passges there, with what, Bracton h 1.849 hath of Earles, and our yeare i 1.850 books of the High Constable of England, then here offer it my selfe. To addethe royalties of the Earledom, as Courts, Officers, Franchises, formes of Proceeding, euen as at 〈◊〉〈◊〉, or the diminution of its large liberties by the Statute of k 1.851 Resumption, were to trouble you with a harsh digression.

Our Leopards they so long and brauely did aduance.

He well call's the Coate of England, Leopards. Neither can you iustly obiect

the common blazon of it, by name of Lions, or that assertion of Polydores igno∣rance, telling vs that the Conqueror bare three Fleurs de lis, and three Lions, as * 1.852 quartred for one Coat, which hath bin, & is as al men know, at this present born in our Soueraignes armes for France and England; and so, that the quartering of the Fleurs was not at all vntill Ed. III. to publish his title, and gaine the Fle∣mish forces (as you haue it in Froissart) bare the French l 1.853 armes, being then A∣zure semy with Fleurs de lis, and were afterward contracted to III. in time of Hen. V. by Charles VI. because he would beare different from the English King, who notwithstanding presently seconded the change, to this houre continuing: Nor could that Italian haue falne into any error more palpable, and in a pro∣fest Antiquary so ridiculous. But to proue them anciently Leopards, * 1.854 Misit. ergo (saith Matthew m 1.855 Paris) Imperator (that is Frederique II) Regi Anglorum∣tres Leopardos in signum Regalis Clypei, in quo tres Leopardi transeuntes figuran∣tur. In a Ms. of I. Gowers Confessio Amantis, which the Printed books haue not,
Adlaudem Christi, quem tu Virgo 〈◊〉〈◊〉,
Sit laus RICHARDI, quem sceptra colunt Leopardi.

And Edward n 1.856 IV. granted to Lewes of Bruges Earle of Winchester, that he should beare d'Azure, a dix Mascles enarme d'un Canton de Nostre Propre armes d'Engleterre, Cestassauoir de Goules vng Leopard passant d'or, arme d'Azur, as the Patent speakes: and likewise o 1.857 Hen. VI. to Kings Colledge in Cambridge, gaue a Coat Armor, III. Roses, and Summo scuti Partitum Principale de Azoreo cum Francorum flore 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Rubeo cum peditante Leopardo, and cals them Parcellae Armorum, quae nobis in regnis Angliae & Franciaeture debenturregio. I know it is o∣therwise now receiued, but withall, that Princes, being supreme Iudges of Ho∣nor and Nobility, may arbitrarily change their Armes in name and Nature; as was done p 1.858 vpon returne out of the Holy warre in Godfrey of Bolognes time; and it seems it hath bin taken indifferently, whether you cal them the one or other, both for similitude of delineaments & composture (as in the Bearing of Nor∣mandy, the County of Zutphen & such more) being blazon'din Hierom de Bara, & other French Heralde, Lion-Leopards: and for that euen vnder this Hen. VI. a great. q 1.859 Student in Heraldry, and a writer of that kind, makes the accession of the Lion of Guienne, to the Coat of Normandy (which was by Hen. II his mariage with Q. Eltanor, diuorced from Lewes of France) to be the first three Lions, Borne by the English Kings.

Caerlegion whilst Proud Rome hir conquests here did hold.

You haue largely in that our most learned Antiquary, the cause of this name from the Tents of Roman Legions, there, about Vefpasians time. I wil only note, that Leland r 1.860 hath long since found fault with William of s 1.861 Malmesbury for affir∣ming it so cald, * 1.862 quòd ibi Emeriti Legionū Iulianarū resedêre; wheras it is plain, that Iulius Caesar neuer came neere this Territory. Perhaps, by Iulius, he meant Agricola (then Lieutenant here) so named, and then is the imputation laid on that best of the Monks, vniust: to helpe it with reading Militarium for Iuliae∣narum, as the Printed booke pretends, I find not sufficiently warrantable, in re∣spect * 1.863 that my Ms. very ancient, as neere Malmesbury's time as (it seemes) may be, and heretofore belonging to the Priory of S. Augustines in Canterbury, e∣uidently perswades the contrary.

—the fortresse vpon Dee.

At this day in British she is call'd t 1.864 Calr Lheon ar dour dwy. i. the Citie of Le∣gions vpon the riuer Dec. Some vulgar Antiquaries haue referr'd the name of Leon to a Gyant builder of it: I, nor they, know not who or when he liu'd. But indeed ridiculously they tooke * 1.865 Leon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for K. Leon the great; to whom the Author alludes presently.

But in himselfe therby doth Holines retaine.

He compares it with Dee's title presently, which hath its reason giuen before to the VII. Song. Weuer by reason of the salt-pits at Northwich, Nantwich, and Middlewich, (all on his banks) hath this attribut, & that of the Sea-gods suite to him, and kind entertainment for his skil in physique, & prophecie; iustifiable in generall, as wel as to make Tryphon their Surgeon which our excellent Spen∣ser hath done; and in particular cause, vpon the most respected and diuinely honored name of Salt; of which, if you obserue it vsed in all sacrifices by ex∣presse commandement a 1.866 of the true God, the 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 * 1.867 in holy writ, the reli∣gion of the Salt, set first, and last taken away as a symbole b 1.868 of perpetual friend∣ship, that in Homer c 1.869 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, the title of * 1.870 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 giuen it by Lyco∣phron, and d 1.871 passages of the Oceans medicinable e 1.872 Epithets because of his salt∣nesse, you shall see apparant and apt testimonie.

From VVoden, by which name they stiled Mercury.

Of the Britons descent from Ioue, if you remember but AEneas sonneto Anchises, and Venus, with her deriuation of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 from Iupiters parents, suffi∣cient declaration will offer it selfe. For this of Woden, see somewhat to the III. Song. To what you read there, I here more fitly add this: Woden, in Saxon Ge∣nealogies, is ascended to, as the chiefe Ancestor of their most Roiall Proge∣nies; so you may see in Nennius, Bede, Ethelwerd, Florence of Worcester, an Anonymus de Regali Prosapia, Huntingdon, and Houeden, yet in such sort that in some of them they goe beyond him, through Frithwald, Frealaf, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Fin, Godulph, Geta, and others, to Seth; But with so much vncertainty, that I imagine many of their descents were iust as true as the Theogonie in Hestod, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, or that of Prester Iohns, sometimes deriuing d 1.873 himselfe very neere from the loines of Salomon. Of this Woden, beside my Authors nam'd, speci∣all mention is found in Paul e 1.874 Warnfred who makes Frea his wife (others call her Fricco, and by her vnderstand Venus) and Adam f 1.875 of Breme, which de∣scribe him as Mars, but in Geffrey of Monmouth, & 〈◊〉〈◊〉, in Hengists own person, he is affirm'd the same with Mercurie, who by Tacitus report was their chiefe Detty; and that also is warranted in the denomination of our Wodensday (according to the Dutch Wodensdagh) for the fourth day of the week titled by the ancient Planetary account with Name of Mercury. If that allusion in the Illustrations of the III. Song to Merc, allow it him not, then take the other first taught me by g 1.876 Lipsius fetching Wodan frō Won or Win which is to Gain, and so make his name Wondan expressing in that sence the selfe h 1.877 name * 1.878 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 vsed by the Greekes. But without this inquiry you vnderstand the Au∣thor.

Here put the German names vpon the VVeekly daies.

From their Sunnan for the sunne Monan, for the Moone, Tuisco, or Tuisto (of whom see to the IV Song) for Mars, Woden for Mercury, Thor for Iupi∣ter, Fre, Frie, or Frigo for Venus, Saetern for Saturne, they stiled their daies 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉: thence came our names now vsed Sunday, Munday, Tuesday, Wo∣densday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday; which Planetary accompt was very anci∣ent among the i 1.879 AEgyptians (hauing much Hebrew discipline) but so superstiti∣ous, that, being great Astronomers and very obseruant of misteries produced out of number and quantity, they began on the Iewish Sabboth and imposed the name of Saturne, on the next the Sunne, then the Moon, as we now rec∣kon omitting two Planets in euery Nomination, as you easily conceiue it.

One might seeke, yet misse the reasons of that forme; but nothing giues satis∣faction equall to that, of All-penetrating Ioseph Scaliger, a 1.880 whose intended rea∣son for it is thus. In a Circle describe an Heptagonall and Equilaterall figure; from whose euery side shall fall equilaterall Triangles, and their angles respec∣tiuely on the corners, of the inscribed figure, which are noted with the Planets after their not interrupted order. At the right side of any of the Bases begin your account, from that to the oppositly noted Planet, thence to his opposite, and so shall you find a continued course in that Order (grounded perhaps among the Ancients vpon mysteries of number, and in terchanged gouernment by those superior bodies ouer this habitable Orb) which some haue swea∣ted at, in inquiry of Proportions, Musique distan¦ces, & refer'd it to Planetary howrs: wheras They (the very name of Houre for a XXIIII. part of a day, being vnusuall till about the Peloponesiaque warre) had their originall of later time, then this Hebdomadall account, whence the Hourely from the morning of euery day had his breeding, and not the other from this, as Pre∣tending & Vulgar Astrologers receiue in supposition. At last, by Constantine the great, and Pope Syluester, the name of Sunn-day, was turnd into the b 1.881 Lords day; as it is stiled Dominicus & 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉; of Saturday, into the Saboth; and the rest not long afterward named according to their Numerall order, as the First, Se∣cond, or Third Feria (that is Holiday, therby keeping the remēbrance of Easter∣week, the beginning of the Ecclesiastique yeere, which was kept euery day Ho∣ly) For Sunday, Munday, Tuesday. You may note here that Caesar c 1.882 was deceiued in telling vs, the Germans worshipt no other Gods * 1.883 but quos cernunt & quo∣rum opibus apertè iuuantur, Solem, Vulcanum, & Lunam, reliquos ne famá qui∣dem accepisse; For you see more then those thus honored by them, as also they had d 1.884 their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for April, dedicated to some adored Power of that name: but blame him not; for the discouerie of the Northerne parts, was but in weakest infancie, when he deliuered it.

[illustration]

Good Ethelbert of Kent first Christned English King.

About the yeere DC. Christianitie was receiued among the Saxons; this Ethelbert (being first induced to taste that happinesse by Berta his Queene, a Christian, and daughterto Hilperic (or Lothar the II.) K. of France) was after∣ward baptized by Augustine a Monk sent hither, with other work men for such a haruest, by PP. Gregory the I. zealously being mov'd to conuersion of the English nation: so that after the first comming of Hengist they had liued here C. L. yeers by the cōmon account without 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of true religion: nor did the Britons who had long before (as you see to the VIII. song) receiued it, at all im∣part it by instruction, which Gildas imputes to them for merit of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 re∣uenge. White e 1.885 of Basing stoke (I must cite his name, you would laugh at me, if I affirm'd it) refers to Kents Paganism, and British Christianitie before this con¦uersion, the originall of our vulgar by-word Nor in Christendom, Nor in Kent.

That abstinence of Flesh for forty daies 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Began it here, (so vnderstand him; for plainly that fasting time was long * 1.886 before in other Churches, as appeares in the Decreeing f 1.887 Epistle of PP. Teles∣phorus, constituting that the Clergie should fast from Quinquagesima (that is, Shroue-sunday) to Easter, whereas the Laity, and they both were before

bound but to VI. weekes accounted, as now from the first Sunday in Lent; so that, euen from the f 1.888 first of Christianitie, for remembrance of our Sauiour, it seemes, it hath been obserued, although I know it hath been refer'd to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as first author. He died in C. XL. of Christ. But if you com∣pare this of him with g 1.889 that of PP. Melchiades (some C. LXX. yeers after) ta∣king aware the fast vpon Sunday, and Thursday, you will loose therein fortie daies, and the common name of Quadragesime; but againe find it thus. S. h 1.890 Gregorte (after both these) makes Lent to be so kept, that yet no fasting be vp∣on Sundaies; because (among other reasons) hee would haue it as the Tenth of Time consecrated to God in Praier and abstinence (and the Canonists, i 1.891 how iustly I argue not, put it in their diuision of Personall tithes.) then, in this form, after the exception, calculates out his Number. From the first Sunday in Lent to Easter, are VI. Weekes, that is, XLII. dates, whence VI. Sundaies subtracted, remaine XXXVI. which (fractions auoided) is the quotient of CCC. LXV. beeing the number of the common yeere, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 by X. But seeing that holy number (as he calls it) of XL. which our Sauiour honored with his fasting, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, by this reckoning excluded, he adds, to the first week, the foure last daies of the Quinquagesima that is Ashwednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday; so keeping both his conceit of Tithing, and also obseruation of that number, which we remember only (not able to imitate) in our assaied abstinence. For proofe of this in Erconbert, both Bede and Malmesbury, beside their later followers, are witnesses. Their Saxon name neere ours was k 1.892 〈◊〉〈◊〉-〈◊〉〈◊〉, as the other Foure Fasts 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

So Ella comming in soone from the Britons wonne.

Neere XL. yeeres after the Saxons first arriuall, AElla (of the same nation) with his sonnes Pleucing, or Pleting, Cimen, and Ciffa landed at Cimenshore in the now Sussex (it is supposed l 1.893 to be neere the Witterings by Chichester) and hauing his forces increast by supply, after much bloud shed twixt him and the Britons, and long siege of the City Andredceaster, now Newenden in Kent (as learned Camden contectures) got supreme dominion of those Southerne parts, with title of K. of Sussex, whose sonne and sucoessor Cissa's name, is yet there left in * 1.894 〈◊〉〈◊〉-〈◊〉〈◊〉 for Chichester and in a Hill incircled with a deep trench for military defence, call'd Ciss-burie, by Offington. The Author fitly begins with him after the Kentish; for hee was the first that made the number of the Saxon Kings plural by Planting & here reigning ouer the South Saxons: & as one was alwaies in the Heptarchie, which had title of First, or chief King of the Angles and Saxons, so this AElla not only 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with m 1.895 it, but also the prerogatiue by priority of time, in first enioining it, before al other Princes of his nation: But his dominion afterward was for the most part stil vnder the Kentish, and VVest Saxon Kings.

Saint Wilfrid sent from York into his realm receiu'd.

This il ilfrid Archbish. of York expell'd that See by Egfrid king of Nortbum∣berland, was kindly receiued by Edilwalch (otherwise Ethelwalch, being before Christned through religious perswasion of his Godfather Wulpher K. of Merc∣land) and conuerted the South Saxons to the Gospell. He endow'd this Wolfrid with Seller a Cherronese in Sussex, and was so founder of a Bishoprique, after∣ward translated, vnder the Norman Conqueror, to Chichester, whose Cathedrall Church in publique Monuments honors the name of Cedwalla (of whom see to the IX. Song) K. of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Sex for her first Creator: but the reason of that was rather because Cedwalla after death of Edilwalch (whō he slew) so honored Wil∣frid n 1.896 * 1.897 vt Magistrū & Dominū omni Prouinciae eū praefecit, nihil in tota 〈◊〉〈◊〉

fine 〈◊〉〈◊〉 assensu factendum arbitratus; wherupon it was, as it seems, thought 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (according to course of yeelding with thes way of fortune) to forget Edilwalch and acknowledge Cedwalla (then a Pagan) for first Patron of that Episcopall dignitie. It is reported that III. yeeres, before this generall receipt there of Christs profession, continued without raine; in so much that Famine, and her companion Pestilence, so vexed the Prouince, that in multitudes of XL. or L. at a time, they vsed hand in hand, to end their miseries in the swallowing waues of their neighbouring Ocean: But, that all ceased vpon Wilfrids preaching; * 1.898 who taught them also first (if Henry of Huntingdons teaching deceiue mee not) to catch all manner of Fish, being before skilled only in taking of Eeles. I know, a 1.899 some make Eadbert Abbot of the Monastery in Selsey, vnder K. Ine, first Bishop there, adding, that before his time the prouince was subiect to Winchester; but that rightly vnder stood discords not; that is, if you referre it to instauration of what was discontinued by Wilfrids returne to his Archbi∣shoprique.

Adopting for his heire yong Edmund—

Penda K. of Mercland had slaine Sigebert (or Sebert) and Anna Kings of East-Angles, and so in Dominion might be said to haue possest that kingdom; But Anna had diuers successors of his bloud, of whom, Ethelbirth was traite∣rously slaine in a plot dissembled by Offa K. of Mercland, and this part of the Heptarchy confounded in the Mercian Crowne. Then did Offa adopt this S. Edmund a Saxon, into name of successor in that kingdome: which he had not long enioy'd but that through barbarous crueltie, chiefly of one Hinguar a Dane (Polydore will needs haue his name Agner) he was with miserable torture martyred, vpon the XIX. of Nouember, whither his Canonization directeth * 1.900 vs for holy memory of him.

And slew a thousand Monks as they deuoutly prayd.

You may add CC. to the Authors number. This Ethelfrid or Edilfrid K. of Northumberland, aspiring to increase his territory's, made war against the bordering Britons. But as he was in the field, by Chester, neere the onset, hee saw, with wonder, a multitude of Monks assembled, in a place by, somewhat se∣cure; demanded the cause, and was soone inform'd that they were there ready to assist his enemies swords with their deuout Orizons, and had one call'd Brocmail, professing their defence from the English forces. The King no soo∣ner heard this, but * 1.901 〈◊〉〈◊〉th he being a Heathen) si aduersus nos, ad Domi∣num suum clamant, profecto & ip si quamuis arma non ferant, contra nos pugnant, qui aduersis nos imprecationibus persequūtur, presently commands their spoile: which so was perform'd by his Souldiors, that 〈◊〉〈◊〉. CC. were in their deuo∣tions put to the sword. A strange slaughter of Religious persons, at one time and place; but not so strange as their whole number in this one Monasterie, which was 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. C. not such idle lubberly scts as later times pester'd the world vvithall, truly pictur'd in that b 1.902 description of (their Character) Slouth.

— with two slimp eyne I must sit said the Segge, or else I must needs nap, I may not stond ne stoupe, ne without im stole kneele, Were I brought a bed (but if my talende it made) Should ne ringing do me rise, or I were ripe to dine. He began Benedicite with a belke, and his brest knoked And raskled, and rored, and rut at the last;

If I should dye by this date, melyste not to loke. I can not perfitly my Pater nost, as the Priest it singeth But I can rimes of Robin Hod, and Randall of Chester, But of our Lord or our Lady I lerne nothing at all. I am occupied euerie day, holy day and other With idle tales at the Ale, and other 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in Churches. Gods pame and his passion fuli selde thinke I thereon I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 neuer feblemen, ne fettred folke in pittes, I haue leuer here an 〈◊〉〈◊〉, or a somers game, Dr leasings to laugh at and bilye my neighbours, Then all that euer Marke made, Math, Iohn and Lucas. And 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and fasting daies all these let I passe And lie in bed in Lent, and mi Lemman in mine armes. I haue ben Priest and Parson passing thyrtie winter Yet can I nether Solfe nc sing, ne Saints liues read But I can find in a feild, or in a furlong an hare Better then in Beatus Vir, Dr in Beati Omnes.

Not such were those Bangor Monks: but they * 1.903 Omnes de labore manuum sua∣rum viuere solebant. Obserue here the difference twixt the more ancient times and our corrupted neighbour ages, which haue been so branded, and not vn∣iustly, with dissembled bestiall sensualities of Monastique profession, that in the vniuersall visitation vnder Hen. VIII. euery Monasterie afforded shamefull discouerie of Sodomites and Incontinent Friers; in Canterbury Priory of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 IX. Sodomites; in Battell Abbey XV. and, in many other, like propor∣tion ; larger reckoning will not satisfie if you account their Wenches, which married and single (for they affected that variety) supplied the wants of their counterfeited solitarinesse, so that, hereupon, after an account of DC. Co∣uents of Monks and Friers, with Mendicants, in this kingdome, when time endured them, * 1.904 Ie laisseray, sayth c 1.905 one, maintenant au Lecteur calculer combi∣en pur le moins deuoint estre de fils de Putains en Angletere, ie di seulement fils de Moines & de Putaines. These were they who admir'd all for Hebrew or Greeke which they vnderstood not, and had at least (as many of our now professing Formalists) Latine enough to make such a speech as Rablais hath to Gargan∣tua for Paris Bels, and call for their Vinum Cos; which, in one of them persona∣ted, receiue thus from a Noble d 1.906 Poet.

Eac Extrà: nihilhoc: extràtotum sit oportet, Sobriè. n. iustè at{que} piè potareiubet Lex. Vinum laetificat Cor hominis, praecipuè Cos. Gratia sit Domino, Vinum Cos, inquit, habemus.

How my Reader tastes this, I know not; therefore I willingly quit him; and add only, that William of Malmesbury grossely erres in affirming that this Bangor e 1.907 is turn'd into a Bishoprique; but pardon him, for he liued in his Cloi∣ster & perhaps was deceiued by Equiuocation of Name, ther being in Carenar∣uan a Bishoprique of the same title to this day, which some bodie later f 1.908 hath on the other side ill taken for this.

Who reordained Yorke a Bishops gouernment.

For in the British times it had a Metropolitique See (as is noted to the IX. Song) and now by Edwine (conuerted to Christian discipline both through means of his Wife Ethelburg, daughter to Ethelbert K. of Kent, and religious perswasion of Gods Ministers) was restored to the former Dignity, & Paulinus, in it, honored with name of Archbishop being afterwards banisht that Pro∣uince, and made Bishop of Rochester, which, some haue ignorantly made him before.

Nor those that in the stem of Saxon Crida came.

Most of our Chronologers begin the Mercian race royall with 〈◊〉〈◊〉; But Henry of Huntingdon (not without his proofes and followers) makes 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (Grandfather to Penda) first in that kingdome.

Confirm'd in Christs belief by that most reuerend Chad.

This Wulpher, sonne to Penda restored to his Fathers kingdome, is o 1.909 repor∣ted with his owne hands to haue slaine his two sonnes Wulphald and Rufin, for that they primly withdrew themselues to that famous S. Chad, or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Bishop of Lichfield, for instruction in the Christian faith; and all this is suppos'd to be done where the now Stone in Staffordshire is seated. Hereupon the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 re∣lies. But, the credit of it is more then suspicious, not only for that in Classique authority I find his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 only to be Kenred, and S. Werburge (by Ermengild daughter to Erconbert of Kent) but withall that he was both Christian, and a great Benefactor to the Church. For it appeares by concent of all, that Peada, Weda, or Penda (all these names he hath) eldest sonne of the first Penda, first receiued in Midle Engle (part of Mercland) the faith, and was Baptized by Finnan Bishop of * 1.910 Lindisfarne: after whose violent death, in spight of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 King of Northumberland, Immin, Ebba, and Edberth Gentlemen of Power in Mercland saluted Wulpher (Brother to Peadà) King of all that Prouince, who was then, as it seemes, (by Florence of Worcester, and Bedes reporting of IV. Bishops in succession preferr'd by him) of Christian name; But howsoeuer he was at that time, it is certaine that in the II. or III. yeeres of his raigne, he was Godfather to K. Edilwalch of Sussex, and bestowed on him as a gift in to∣ken of that spirituall adoption, the Isle of Wight with an other 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in West Saxonie, and gaue also to S. Cedda (made, by consent of him and K. Oswy, Bishop of Lindisfarne) L. Hides of land (a Hide, * 1.911 aplough land, or a Carue, I hold cleerly equiualent) towards foundation of a Monastery. All this com∣pared, and his life, in our Monks, obserued, hardly endures this note of perse∣cution; which in respect of his foundership of Peterborough Abbey, Robert of Swapham a Monk there reporting it, or those from whom he had it, might bet∣ter in silence haue buried it, or rather not so vngratefully fain'd it. I only find one thing notably ill of him; that he, first of the English Kings, by Simonie made a Bishop which was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of London, as Malmosbury is Author.

And (through his Rule) the Church from Taxes strongly freed.

Ethelbald K. of Mercland, Founder of Crowland Abbey in Lincolneshire, a Great, Martiall, and Religious Prince, in a Synod held (Cuthbert then Archbi∣shop of Canterbury) enlarged Ecclesiastique libertie in this forme, Donatio∣nem meam me viuente concedo, vt omnia Monasteria & Ecclesiae Regnimei à publicis Vectigalibus, Operibus, & Oneribus absoluantur, nisi Instructionibus Ar∣cium vel Pontium, que nunquam vlli 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 i. He discharged all Mo∣nasteries and Churches of all kind of taxes, works, and imposts, excepting such as were for building of Forts, and Bridges; being (as it seemes the law was then) not Releasable. For, beside the authority of this statut of Ethelbald, it appeares frequent in Charters of the Saxon times, that, vpon Endowment, and Donations, to Churches with largest words of exemption, and libertie from all secular charges, the conclusion of the Habendum, was, * 1.912 Except is istis tribus, Expeditione, Pontis, Arcisue Constructione, which among common Notaries, or Scriueners, was so well known, that they call'd it by one generall name,

* 1.913 Trinoda Necessitas, as out of Cedwalla's Charter, to Wilfrid, first Bishop of Selsey, of the Mannor of Pagenham (now Pagham) in Sussex, I haue seene tran∣scribed; whereupon in a Deliberatiue (concerning Papall exactions, and sub∣iection of Church-liuing) heldvnder Hen. a 1.914 III, after examination of Anci∣ent Kings indulgence to the Clergie, it was found, that; * 1.915 Non 〈◊〉〈◊〉 de∣derunt huiusmodi possessiones, quin Tria sibi reseruarent semper propter publicam regnivtilitatem, videlicet, Expeditionem Pontis, & Arcis reparationes, vel re∣fectiones, vt per earesisterent Hostiū incursionibus; although by words of a sta∣tute of Ethelulph King of VVest-Saxons in the yeere DCCC. LV. made by ad∣uise both of Laity, and Spirituality, the Church was quitted also of those three Common-wealth causes of Subsidie, but inioy'd it not; For, euen the b 1.916 Ca∣nons themselues subiect their Possessions to these seruices and duties, and vp∣on interpretation of a Charter made by Henry Beauclerc, Founder of the Prio∣rie of S. Oswald in Yorkshire, containing words of immunitie and and liberty of Tenure, as generall & effectuall as might be, a great Lawyer c 1.917 long since af∣firm'd that yet the House was not freed of repairing Bridges and Causies. But all lands, as wel in hands of Clerks as Lay, were subiected to particular tenures after the Conquest: and so these kind of charges and discharges being made rather feodall (as d 1.918 Bracton calls them) then personall, vse of them in Charters consequently ceased. I note here to Students of Antiquitie, that, wherethe printed Ingulph saies this was done by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in the III. yeere of his raigne, they must with correction make it the XXXIII. as is, without scruple, appa∣rant in the date of e 1.919 the synod which was DCC. XLV. of our Sauiour.

The Britons had interr'd their Proto-martyrs bones.

In that vniuersall persecution vnder Dioclesian, and Herculius, this Isle gaue, in S. Alban, testimonie of Christian profession; euen to his last breath * 1.920 drawn among tormenting enemies of the Cros. His death (being the first Martyr, as the Author here calls him, that this Country had) was at Werlam∣cester (.i. the old Verulam) where, by, the Abbey, of S. Albons, was afterward e∣rected.

(Extirping other stiles) and gaue it * 1.921 Englands name.

Look back to the last note on the I. Song. Thus, as you see, hath the Muse compendiously runne through the Heptarchie, and vnited it in name and Empire vnder Egbert K. of VVest Saxons: after whom, none, but his suc∣cessors, had absolut power in their kingdoms, as course of storie shewes you. Likely enough I imagine, that, as yet, expectation of the Reader is not satis∣fied * 1.922 in these VII. Kingdomes, their beginnings, territory, and first Christianity: therefore as a Corollary receiue this for the eyes more facile instruction.

		Began in	First receiued Faith in
I. Kent the now Kent.	I. Hengist CD. LVI. from whose sonne Oisc the succeeding Kings were call'd Ois∣cings.	I. Ethelbert, D. XCVII. of Augustine from Gregorie I.
II. South Sex, Sussex. Surrey.	II. In AElla about CD. XCI.	II. Edilwalch DC. LXI. and the whole Contry conuerted by VVilfrid DC. LXXIX.

Com∣prehē∣ded in * 1.923	III.West∣Sex Cornwall. Deuonshire. Dorset. Somerset. VVilton. Southampton. Berkshire.	III. Certie, D. XIX. whose Grand-father was Gewise, & thence his people & Po∣steritie called Ge∣wises.	Kinegils DC. XXXV. baptized by Birin firlt Bi∣shop of Dorche∣ster in Oxford∣shire.
IV. Nor∣thumber∣land. Lancaster. Yorke. Durham. VVestmerland. Nortbumberland, and the neighbo∣ring territorie, to Edinburgh Frith; whither from Tine was the name of Bernicland, & what lay on this side Tine, calld Deir∣land.	IV. Ida D.XL.VII. taking all Bernic∣land, as AElla XII. yeare after began in Deirland; but both kingdoms soone were con∣founded in one.	Edwin DC.XXVI. Christned by Paulin first Arch∣bishop (in the Saxon times) of Torke.
V. Est∣Sex Essex. Midlesex. Part of Hereford.	V. Sleda after som (others say in Er∣chinwin before him) about D. LXXX. both vn∣certaine, and their successors.	Sebert D C.IV. dipt in holy tinc∣ture by Mellitus, first Bishop of London.
VI. Est∣Angle Norfolk. Suffolk. Cambridgeshire. Part of Ely.	VI. Redwald about DC. But some talke of one Vuf∣fa (whence these Kings were call'd Vuffings) to be Author of it neer XXX. yeeres be∣fore.	Eorpwald DC. XXXII. although 〈◊〉〈◊〉 were Christned, for he soone fel to Apo∣stasy, by perlwasi∣on of his wife, and in the same Chap∣pel made one altar to Christ, ano∣ther to the Diuel.
VII. Merc∣land. Glocester. Hereford. Worcester. Warwick Leicester. Rutland. Northampton. Lincoln. Huntingdon. Bedford. Buchingham. Oxford. Stafford. Derbie. Salop. Notingham. Chester. The Northern 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Hereford. But in these the Inhabitāts of thē Inlands 〈◊〉〈◊〉 called Middle-En∣gles, and the Mer∣cians diuided into names of ther locall quarters.	VII. In Penda DC. XXVI. Others will in Crida, some XL. before.	Peada K. of Midle∣Engle * DC.LIII. baptized by Finna bishop of Lindis∣farne, but enlarged the professiō of it in Vulpher next K. there.

Perhaps as good authority may be giuen against some of my proposed Chronologie, as I can iustifie my selfe with. But although so. yet I am therefore freed of error, because our old Monkes exceedingly in this kind corrupted, or deficient, affoord nothing able to rectifie. I know the East-Angles, by both ancient and later authority, begin aboue C. yeares before; but if with Synchronisme you examine it, it will be found most absurd. For, seeing it is affirmed expresly, that Redwald was slaine by Ethelfrid K. of Northumberland, and being plaine by b 1.924 Bede (take his Storie together, & relie notvpon Syllables & false printed copies) that it must needs beneere DC. (for Edwin succeeded E∣thelfrid) and that, Vffa was som XXX. yeares before: what calculation will cast this into lesse then D. years after Christ? Forget not (if you desire accurat times) my admonition to the I V. Song, of the XXII. yeares error vpon the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 account, especially in the beginning of the Kingdoms, because they are for the most part reckoned in Old Monkes from the comming of the Saxons. Where you find different names from these, attribute it to misreading old copies, by such as haue published Carpenwald for Eorpenwald, or Earpwald; Penda also perhaps for Wenda, mistaking the Saxon p. for our P. and other such, variably both Written and Printed. How in time they successiuely came vnder the West-Saxon rule, I must not tell you, vnles I should vntimely put on the person of an Historian. Our common Annals manifest 〈◊〉〈◊〉. But know here, that al∣though seauen were, yet but fiue had any long continuance of their supre∣macies:
The Sarons tho in ther power (tho thii were soriue)
Seue Kingdomes made in Engelonde and * 1.925 suthe but biue,
The King of Northomberlond, and of Eastangle also
Dl Kent and of Westsex, and of the March ther to.
as Robert of Glocester, according to truth of Story hath it; for Estsex & South∣sex were not long after their beginnings (as it were) annext to their Ruling neighbour Princes.

A Nation from their first bent naturally to spoile.

Indeed so were vniuersally the Germans (out of whom our Saxons) as Taci∣tus relates tovs; * 1.926 Nec arare terram aut exspectare annum tam facile persuaseris, quam vocare hostes & vulner a mereri. Pigrum quinimò & iners videtur sudore acquirere quod possis sanguine parare, and more of that nature we read in him.

Of famous Cambridge first—

About the year DC.XXX. Sigebert (after death of Eorpwald) returning out of France, whither his father Redwald had banished him, and receiuing the East∣angle Crown, assisted by Foelix a Burgognone, and first Bishop of Dunwich (then call'd Dunmoc) in Suffolke; desiring to imitate what he had seene obseruable in France, for the common good, * 1.927 Instituit scholam (read it scholas, if you will, as some do, I see no consequence of worth) in qua Pueri literis erudirentur, as Bede writeth. Out of these words thus generall, Cambridge being in Eastangle, hath beene taken for this Schoole, and the Schoole for the Vniuersity. I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 beleeue it (in so much as makes it then a Vniuersity) not much sooner then that I know not what) Gurguntius with Cantaber, some CL. years before Christ, founded it; or, thoseCharters of K. Arthur, Buls of Pope Honorius and Sergius sent 〈◊〉〈◊〉; Anaximander or Anaxagor as their studies there, with more such pretended & absurd vnlikely hoods; vnles euery Grammar Schoole be an Vniuersity, as this was, where children were taught by * 1.928 Paedagogi & Magistri iuxta Morem Cantuariorum, as Bede hath expresly: which so makes Canterbury an Vniuersity also. But neither is there any touch in authentique and ancient story, which 〈◊〉〈◊〉

stifies these Schooles instituted at Cambridge, but generally somwhere in East∣angle. Reasons of inducement are fram'd in multitudes on both sides. But, for my owne part I neuer saw any sufficiently probable, and therefore most of all relie vpon what authorities are affoorded. Among them I euer preferr'd the Appendix to the Story of Crowland, suppos'd done by Peeter of Blots, affirming that vnder Hen. I. (he liued very neere the same time: therefore beleeue him in a matter not subiect to causes of Historians temporizing) Ioffred Abbot of Crowland, with one Gilbert his Commoigne, and III. other Monkes came to his Mannor of Cotenham, as they vsed oftimes, to read; and thence daily going to Cambridge, * 1.929 Conducto, quodam horreo publico suas scientias palam profitentes, in breui tempor is excursu, grandem discipulorum numerum contraxerunt. Anno vero secundo aduentus illorum, tantum accreuit discipulorum numerus, tam ex¦tot a patria, quam ex oppido, quòd quaelibet domus maxima, horreum, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vlla eccle∣sia sufficeret eorum receptaculo; and so goes on with an ensuing frequencie of Schooles. If before this there were an Vniuersity, I imagine that in it was not profest Aristotl's Ethiques, which tell vs 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉: for, then would they not haue permitted learned Readers of the sciences (whom all that hated not the Muses, could not but loue) to be compell'd into a Barne, in steed of Schools. Nor is it tolerable in conceit, that for neer D. years (which interceded twixt this, and Sigebert) no fitter place of profession should beerected. To this time others haue referr'd the beginning of that famous Seminary of good li∣terature: and, if roome be left for me, I offer subscription; but alwayes vnder reformation of that most honored Tutresses Pupils, which shall (omitting fa∣bulous trash) iudiciously instruct otherwise. But the Author here out of Poly∣dore, Leland, and others of later time relying vpon coniecture, hath his warrant of better credit then Cantilup, an other relater of that Arcadian Originall, which some haue so violently patronized.

Renowned Oxford built t' Apollo's learned brood.

So is it affirm'd (of that learned K. yet knowing not a letter vntill he was past XII.) by Polydore, Bale, and others; grounding themselues vpon what Alfreds beneficence and most deseruing care hath manifested in Royall Prouision for that sacred Nourice of Learning. But iustly it may be doubted, lest they tooke instauration of what was deficient, for institution: for although you grant that he first founded Vniuersity Colledge; yet it follows not, but there might be com∣mon Schooles, & Colledges, as at this day in Leyden, Giesse, and other Places of High and Low Germany. If you please, fetch hither that of Greeklade (to the III. Song) which I will not importune you to beleeue: but without scruple you can∣not but credit that of a Monke a 1.930 of S. 'Dewis (made Grammar and Rhetorique Reader there by K. Alfred) in these words of the yeare DCCC. LXXXVI. h 1.931 Ex∣ort a est pessima ac teterrima Oxoniae discordia inter Grimboldum (this was a great and deuout Scholar, whose aide Alfred vsed in his disposition of Lectures) do∣ctissimósq illos viros secūtlluc adduxit, & veteres illos scholasticos quos ibidē inve∣nisset: quiet' aduentu, leges, modos, ac praelegendi formulas ab codē Grimboldo insti∣tut as, omni ex parte amplecti recusabant. And a little after, Quinetiam probabant & oftendebant id{que} indubitatò veterum annalium testimonie illius loci Ordines ac Instituta, à nonnulis pys & erudit is hominibus, fuisse sancita, vt à Gildâ, (Melkino he was a great Mathematician, and as Gildas also, liued between D. and DC.) Nennio (the Printed booke hath falsly Nemrio) Kentigerno (hee liued about D. LX.) & alys, qui omnes liter is illic consenuerunt, omniatbidē foeiict pace & cōcordia administrantes; and affirm'd also that Letters had there beene happily profest in very ancient time, with frequency of Scholars, vntill irruptions f 1.932 of Pagans

(they ment Danes) had brought thē to this lately restored deficiency. After this testimony, greater thē al exceptiō, what can be more plain, thē Noble worth & Fame of this Pillar of the Muses long before K. Alfreds. Neither make I any great question, but that, where in an old Copy of Gildas his life (published lately by a French a 1.933 man) it is printed, hat he studied at Iren, which cleerly he tooke for a place in this Land, it should be Ichen (& I confesse, before me one hath wel pub∣lisht the coniecture) for 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the Welsh name of that City, expressing as much as Oxenford. Yet I would not willingly fall into the extrems of making it Memprikes, as some do; that were but vain affectation to dote on my Reuerend Mother. But because in those remote ages, not only Vniuersities and Publique Schooles (being b 1.934 for a time prohibited by PP. Gregory for feare of breeding Pelagians & Arrians) but diuers Monasteries & Cloisters were great Auditories of learning as appears in Theodor & Adrians Professing at Canterbury, Mal∣dulph and Aldelm at Malmesbury (this Aldelm first taught the English to write * 1.935 Latin Prose & Verse) Alcuin at Yorke, Bede at Iarrow, & such other mo, I guesse that hence came much obscurity to their name, omitted or suppressed by enui∣ous Monkes of those times, then whose traditions descending through many hands of their like, we haue no credible authorities. But which soeuer of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 two sisters haue prerogatiue of Primogeniture (a matter too much controuer∣ted twixt them) None can giue them lesse attribute, then to be two Radiant Eies fixt in this Island, as the beautious face of the earths Body. To what Others haue by industrious search communicated, I adde concerning Oxford out of an c 1.936 ancient Ms. (but since the Clementines) what I there read: * 1.937 Apud Montē Pes∣sulanum * 1.938 Parisios, Oxoniam, Colonias, Boloniam, generalia studia ordinamus. Ad quae Prior Prouincialis quilibet possit mittere duos fratres qui habeant Studentium libertatē; And also admonish the Reader of an imposture thrust into the world this last Autumne Mart in a Prouinciall Catalogue of Bishopriques, by a Pro∣fest Antiquary d 1.939 & Popish Canon of Antwerp, telling vs, that the Ms. Copy of it, found in S. Victors Library at Paris, was written D. years since, & in the num∣ber of Canterbury Prouince, it hath Oxford; which being written Oxoniensis, I imagined might haue bin mistaken for Exoniensis (as Exonia for Oxonia some∣times) vntill I saw Exoniensis ioyn'd also; by which stood * 1.940 Petroburgensis, which brused all the credit of the monument, but especially of him that publisht it. For, who knowes not that Peeterborough was no Bishoptique till Hen. VIII? nor indeed was Oxford, which might be easily thought much otherwise, by inci∣dence of an ignorant eye on that vainly promising title. I abstain from expatta∣ting in matter of our Muses seates, so largely, & too largely treated of by others.

And into seuerall Shires the Kingdome did diuide.

To those Shires he e 1.941 constituted Iustices & Sherifes, call'd 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 & 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, the office of those two being before confounded in Vice-Domini. i. Lieutenants; but so, that Vicedominus & Vicecomes remain'd indifferent words for name of Sherife, as, in a Charter of K. Edred DCCCC. L. Ego Bingulph Vicedo∣min{us} Consului § Ego Alfer Vicecomes audini § I find together subscribed. The Iustices were, as I thinke, no other then those whom they call'd 〈◊〉〈◊〉 man∣num, being the same with 〈◊〉〈◊〉, now Earles, in whose disposition & gouern∣ment vpon delegatiō from the King (the title being Officiary, not Hereditary, except in som particular Shire as * 1.942 Leicester, &c.) the County was; with the Bi∣shop of the Diocese: the Earle f 1.943 sare in the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 twise euery yeare, where, charge was giuen touching g 1.944 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉: But by the h 1.945 Conqueror, this medling of the Bishop, in Turnes was prohibited. The Sherife had then his Monthly Court also, as the now County Court, instituted by the Saxon Ed. 1. as that other of the Turne by K. Edgar. The Sherife is now im∣mediat

officer to the Kings Court, but it seemes that then the Earle (hauing al∣wayes the third part of the shires profits, both * 1.946 before and since the Normans) had chargevpon him. For this diuision of Countries: how many he made, I know not, but Malmesbury, vnder Ethelred, affirms, there were XXXII. (Robert of Glocester XXXV.) about which time Winchelcomb was one, i 1.947 but then ioyn'd to Glocestershire; those XXXII. k 1.948 were

IX. Go∣uerned by the West∣Saxon law. Kent, Sussex, Surrey, Hantshire, Berkshire, Wiltshire, Somerset, Dorset, Deuonshire,

XV. by the Da∣nish law. Essex, Middlesex. Suffolke, Norfolke, Hertford, Cambridge, Bedford, Buckingham, Huntingdon, Northamton, Leicester, Derby, Notingham, Lincolne. Yorke.

VIII. by the Mercian Law. Oxford, Warwicke, Glocester, Hereford, Shropshire, Stafford, Cheshire, Worcester,

Here was none of Cornwall, Cumberland (stiled also Carlileshire) Northumber∣land, Lancaster, Westmerland (which was since titled Aplebyshire) Durbam, Mon∣mouth, not Rutland, which at this day make our number (beside the XII. in Wales) XL. Cornwall (because of the Britons there planted) vntill the Conqueror gaue the County to his brother Robert of Moreton, continued out of the di∣uision. Cumberland, Northumberland, Westmerland, and Durham, being all Nor∣therne, seeme to haue bin then vnder Scettish or Danish power. But the two first receiued their diuision, as it seemes before the Conquest; for Cumberland had its particular l 1.949 gouernors, and Northumberland m 1.950 Earles: Westmerland perhaps began when K. Iohn gaue it Robert Vipont, ancestor to the Cliffords, holding by that Patent to this day the inheritance of the Sherifdome. Durham religiously was with large immunities giuen to the Bishop, since the Norman inuasion. Lancaster, vntill Hen. III. created his yonger sonne Edmund Crooke-backe Earle of it, I think, was no County: for, in one of our old year n 1.951 books a learned Iudge affirms, that, in this Henries time, was the first Sherises Tourne held there. Nor vntill Edward (first sonne to Edmund of Langley D. of Yorke, and afterward D. of Aumerle) created by Rich. II. had Rutland any Earles. I know for number and time of those, all authority agrees not with me, but I coniecture only vpon se∣lected. As Alured diuided the Shires first; (o to him is owing the constitution of Hundreds, Titbings, Lathes, & Wapentakes, to the end that whosoeuer were not lawfully, vpon credit of his Boroughes. i. pledges, admitted in some of them for a good Subiect, should be reckon'd as suspicious of life and loyaltie. Some steps thereof remaine in our o 1.952 ancient & later Law books.

Which he an heire loome left vnto the English throne.

The first healing of the Kings Euill is referr'd to this Edward p 1.953 the Confessor: and, of a particular example in his curing a yong married womā, an old q 1.954 monu∣ment is left to Posterity. In France such a kind of Cure is attributed to their Kings also; both of that and this, if you desire particular inquisition, take D. r 1.955 Tookers Charisma Sanationis.

Our Countries common lawes did faithfully produce.

In Lambards Archaonomy and Roger of Houedens, Hen. II. are lawes vnder name of the Confessor and Conqueror ioyn'd and deduced for the most partout of their predecessors; but those of the Confessor seeme to be the same, if Mal∣mesbury r 1.956 deceiue not, which K. Cnut collected, of whom his words are, * 1.957 〈◊〉〈◊〉 leges ab antiquis regibus & maximè antecessore suo Ethelredo lat as, sub intermi∣natione Regia mulcta, perpetuis tèmporibus obseruaripracepit, in quarum custodiā etiam nunc tempore Bonorum sub nemine Reg is Edwardt iur atur, non quod ille Sta∣tuerit, sed quod obseruauerit: & vnder this name haue they bin humbly desired by the subiect, granted with qualification, and controuerted, as a maine & first part of liberty, in the next age, following the Norman Conquest.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The twelfth Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

The Muse, that part of Shropshire plyes Which on the East of Severne lies: Where mighty Wrekin from his hight, In the proud Cambrian Mountaines spight, Sings those great Saxons ruling here, Which the most famous warriors were. And as shee in her course proceeds, Relating many glorious deeds, Of Guy of Warwicks fight doth straine With Colebrond, that renowned Dane, And of the famous Battels tryde Twixt Knute and Edmond-Ironside; To the Staffordian fields doth roue; Visits the Springs of Trent and Doue; Of Moreland, Cank, and Needwood sings; An end which to this Canto brings.

THE haughty Cambrian Hills enamor'd of their praise (As they who onely sought ambitiously to raise The blood of god-like Brute) their heads do proudly beare: And hauing crown'd themselues sole Regents of the Ayre (An other warre with Heauen as though they meant to make) Did seeme in great disdaine the bold affront to take, That any petty hill vpon the English side, Should dare, not (with a crouch) to vale vnto their pride.

VVhen Wrekin, as a hill his proper worth that knew, And vnderstood from whence their insolencie grew, For all that they appear'd so terrible in sight, Yet would not once forgoe a iote that was his right. And when they star'd on him, to them the like he gaue, And answer'd glance for glance, and braue againe for braue: That, when some other hills which English dwellers were, The lustie Wrekin saw himselfe so well to beare Against the Cambrian part, respectlesse of their power; His eminent disgrace expecting euery howre, Those Flatterers that before (with many cheerfull looke) Had grac't his goodly site, him vtterly forsooke,

And muffled them in clowds, like Mourners vayl'd in black, Which of their vtmost hope attend the ruinous wrack: That those delicious Nymphs, fayre Tearne and Rodon cleere (Two Brooks of him belov'd, and two that held him deare; Hee, hauing none but them, they hauing none but hee, Which to their mutuallioy, might eithers obiect be) Within their secret breasts conceiued sundry feares, And as they mixt their streames, for him so mixt their teares. Whom, in their comming downe, when plainly he discernes, For them his nobler hart in his strong bosome earnes: But, constantly resolu'd, that (dearer if they were) The Britains should not yet all from the English beare; Therfore, quoth he, braue Flood, though forth by d 1.958 Cambria brought, Yet as faire Englands friend, or mine thou would'st be thought (O Severne!) let thine eare my iust defence partake: Which sayd, in the behalfe of th'English, thus he spake;

Wise Weeuer (I suppose) sufficiently hath said Of those our Princes heere, which fasted, watcht, and pray'd, Whose deepe deuotion went for others ventrous deeds: But in this Song of mine, hee seriously that reads, Shall find, ere I haue done, the Britaine (so extold, Whose height each Mountaine striues so mainly to vp-hold) Matcht with as valiant men, and of as cleane a might, As skilfull to commaund, and as inur'd to fight. VVho, when their fortune will'd that after they should scorse Blowes with the big-boan'd Dane, eschanging force for force When first he put from Sea to forrage on this shore, Two hundred e 1.959 yeeres distain'd with eithers equall gore; Now this aloft, now that: oft did the English raigne, And oftentimes againe depressed by the Dane) The Saxons, then I say, themselues as brauely show'd, As these on whom the Welsh such glorious praise bestow'd.

Nor could his angry sword, who Egbert ouer-threw Through which he thought at once the Saxons to subdue) His kingly courage quell: but from his short retyre, His reinforced troupes (newe forg'd with sprightly fire) Before them draue the Dane, and made the Britaine runne (Whom he by liberall wage here to his ay de had wonne) Vpon their recreant backs, which both in flight were slaine, Till their huge murthered heapes manur'd each neighboring Plaine.

As, Ethelwolfe againe. his vtmost powers that bent Against those fresh supplies each yeere from Denmarke sent (Which, proling vp and downe in their rude Danish ores, Heere put themselues by stealth vpon the pestred shores) In many a doubtfull fight much fame in England wan. So did the King of Kent, courageous Athelstan,

VVhich heere against the Dane got such victorious daies.

So, we the Wiltshire men as worthily may praise, That buckled with those Danes, by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Osrick brought.

And Etheldred, with them nine sundry Fields that fought, Recorded in his praise, the conquests of one yeere. You right-nam'd English then, courageous men you were When Redding ye regain'd, led by that valiant Lord: Where Basrig ye out-brau'd, and Halden, sword to sword; The most redoubted spirits that Denmarke heere addrest.

And Alured, not much inferior to the rest: Who hauing in his dayes so many dangers past, In seauen braue foughten Fields their Champion Hubba chac't, And slew him in the end, at Abington, that day VVhose like the Sunne nere sawe in his diurnall way: VVhere those, that from the Field sore wounded sadly fled, VVere wel-neere ouer-whelm'd with mountaines of the dead. His force and fortune made the Foes so much to feare, As they the Land at last did vtterly forsweare.

And, when proud Rollo, next, their former powers repair'd * 1.960 (Yea, when the worst of all it with the English far'd) Whose Countries neere at hand, his force did still supply, And Denmarke to her drew the strengths of Normandie, This Prince in many a fight their forces still defy'd. The goodly Riuer Lee he wisely did diuide, By which the Danes had then their full-fraught Navies 〈◊〉〈◊〉: The greatnes of whose streame besieged Harford rew'd. This Alfred whose fore-sight had politiquely found Betwixt them and the Thames advantage of the ground, A puissant hand thereto laboriously did put, § And into lesser Streames that spacious Current cut. Their ships thus set on shore (to frustrate their desire) Those Danish Hulkes became the food of English fire.

Great Alfred left his life: when Elflida vp-grew, That farre beyond the pitch of other women flew: Who hauing in her youth of childing felt the woe, § Her Lords imbraces vow'd shee neuer more would know: But differing from her sexe (as, full of manly fire) This most courageous Queene, by conquest to aspire, The puissant Danish powers victoriously pursu'd, And resolutely heere through their thicke Squadrons hew'd Her way into the North. Where, Darby hauing wonne, And things beyond beliefe vpon the Enemy done, Shee sav'd besieged Yorke; and in the Danes despight, VVhen most they were vp-held with all the Easterne might, More Townes and Citties built out of her wealth and power, Then all their hostile flames could any way deuour.

And, when the Danish heere the Country most destroy'd, Yet all our powers on them not wholly were imploy'd; But some we still reseru'd abroad for vs to roame, To fetch-in forraine spoyls, to helpe our losse at home. And all the Land, from vs, they neeuer cleerely wan: But to his endlesse praise, our English Athelstan, In the Northumbrian fields, with most victorious might Put Alaffe and his powers to more inglorious flight; And more then any King of th'English him before, Each way from North to South, from West to th'Easterne shore, Made all the Ile his owne; his seat who firmly fixt, The Calidonian hills, and Cathnes poynt betwixt, § And Constantine their King (a prisoner) hither brought; Then ouer Severns banks the warlike Britains sought: Where he their Princes forc't from that their strong retreat, In England to appeare at his Imperiall seat.

But after, when the Danes, who neuer wearied were, Came with intent to makea generall conquest here, They brought with them a man deem'd of so wondrous might, As was not to be matcht by any mortall wight: For, one could scarcely beare his Ax into the field; Which as a little wand the Dane would lightly wield: And (to enforce that strength) of fuch a dauntlesse spirit, A man (in their conceit) of so exceeding merit, That to the English oft they offred him (in pride) The ending of the warre by combate to decide: Much scandall which procur'd vnto the English name. When, some out of their loue, and some spurr'd on with shame, By enuy some provokt, some out of courage, faine Would vnder-take the Cause to combate with the Dane. But Athelstan the while, in settled iudgement found, Should the Defendant fayle, how wide and deepe a wound It likely was to leaue to his defensiue warre.

Thus, whilst with sundry doubts his thoughts perplexed are, It pleas'd all-powerfull heauen, that Warwicks famous Guy (The Knight through all the world renown'd for Chiualrie) Arriu'd from forraine parts, where he had held him long. His honorable Armes deuoutly hauing hong In a Religious house, the offrings of his praise, To his Redeemer Christ, his helpe at all assayes (Those Armes, by whose strong proofe he many a Christian freed, And bore the perfect marks of many a worthy deed) Himselfe, a Palmer poore, in homely Russet clad (And onely in his hand his Hermits staffe he had) Tow'rds Winchester alone (so) sadly tooke his way, Where Athelstan, that time the King of England lay;

And where the Danish Campe then strongly did abide, Neere 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a goodly Meade, which men there call the Hide.

The day that Guy 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (when silene nighe did bring 〈◊〉〈◊〉 both on friend and foe) that most religious King (Whole strong and constant 〈◊〉〈◊〉, all grieuous cares supprest) His due deuotion done, betooke himselfe to rest. To whom it seem'd by night an Angell did appeare, Sent to him from that God whom hee invoak't by pray'r; Commaunding 〈◊〉〈◊〉 time not idly to for-slowe, But rat he as hee could 〈◊〉〈◊〉, to such a gate to goe, VVhereas he should not faile to find a goodly Knight In Palmers poore attyre: though very meanly dight, Yet by his comely shape, and limmes exceeding strong, He easely might him know the other folke among; And bad him not to feare, but chuse him for the man.

No 〈◊〉〈◊〉 brake the day, but vp rose Athelstan; And as the Vision show'd, he such a Palmer found, VVith others of his sort, there sitting on the ground: VVhere, for some poore repast they onely seem'd to stay, Else ready to depart each one vpon his way: When secretly the King revealed to the Knight His comfortable dreames that lately passed night: VVith mild and princely words bespeaking him; quoth hee, Farre better you are knowne to heauen (it seemes) then mee For this great Action fit: by whose most drad command (Besore a world of men) it's lay'd vpon your hand. Then stout and valiant Knight, heere to my Court repaire, Refresh you in my bathes, and mollifie your care VVith comfortable wines and meats what you will aske: And chuse my richest Armes to fit you for this taske.

The Palmer (gray with age) with countenance lowting lowe, His head euen to the earth before the King doth bow, Him softly answering thus; Drad Lord, it fits mee ill (A wretched man) t'oppose high heauens eternall will: Yet my most soueraigne Liege, no more of me esteeme Then this poore habit showes, a Pilgrim as I seeme; But yet I must confesse, haue seene in former dayes The best Knights of the world, and seuffled in some frayes. Those times are gone with me; and, beeing aged now, Haue offred vp my Armes, to Heau'n and made my vow Nere more to beare a Shield, nor my declining age (Except some Palmers Tent, or homely Hermitage) Shall euer enter roofe: but if, by Heauen and thee, This Action be impos'd great English King on mee, Send to the Danish Campe, their challenge to accept, In some conuenient place proclaiming it be kept:

VVhere, by th'Almighties power, for England Ile appeare.

The King much pleas'd in mind, assumes his wonted cheere, And to the Danish power his choicest Herault sent. When, both through Campe and Court, this Combat quickly went. VVhich suddainly divolg'd, whilst euery listning eare, As thirsting after newes, desirous was to heare, VVho for the English side durst vnder-take the day; The puissant Kings accord, that in the middle way Betwixt the Tent and Towne, to eithers equall sight, Within a goodly Mead, most fit for such a fight, The Lists should be prepar'd for this materiall prize.

The day prefixt once com'n, both Dane and English rise, And to th'appointed place th'vnnumbred people throng: The weaker female sex, old men, and children young Into the windowes get, and vp on stalls, to see The man on whose braue hand their hope that day must bee. In noting of it well, there might a man behold More sundry formes of feare then thought imagine could. One looks vpon his friend with sad and heauy cheere, Who seemes in this distresse a part with him to beare: Their passions doe expresse much pittie mixt with rage. VVhilst one his wiues laments is labouring to asswage, His little infant neere, in childish gibbridge showes What addeth to his griefe who sought to calme her woes. One hauing climb'd some roofe, the concourse to discry, From thence vpon the earth deiects his humble eye, As since he thither came hee suddainly had found Some danger them amongst which lurkt vpon the ground. One stands with fixed eyes, as though he were agast: Another sadly comes, as though his hopes were past. This harkneth with his friend, as though with him to breake Of some intended act. Whilst they together speake, Another standeth neere to listen what they say, Or what should be the end of this so doubtfull day. One great and generall face the gathered people seeme: So that the perfect'st sight beholding could not deeme What lookes most sorrow show'd; their griefes so equall were. Vpon the heads of two, whose cheekes were ioynd so neere As if together growne, a third his chin doth rest: Another lookes or'e his: and others, hardly prest, Lookt vnder-neath their armes. Thus, whilst in crowds they throng (Led by the King himselfe) the Champion comes along; A man well strooke in yeeres, in homely Palmers gray, And in his hand his staffe, his reuerent steps to stay, Holding a comly pase: which at his passing by, In euery censuring tongue, as euery serious eye,

Compassion mixt with feare, distrust and courage, bred.

Then Colebrond for the Danes came forth in irefull red; Before him (from the Campe) an Ensigne first display'd Amidst a guard of gleaues: then sumptuously array'd Were twenty gallant youths, that to the warlike sound Of Danish brazen Drums, with many a loftie bound, Come with their Countries march, as they to Mars should dance. Thus, forward to the fight, both Champions them advance: And each without respect doth resolutely chuse The weapon that he brought, nor doth his foes refuse. The Dane prepares his Axe, that pond'rous was to feele, VVhose squares were layd with plates, and riuited with steele, And armed downe along with pykes; whose hardned poynts (Forc't with the weapons weight) had power to teare the ioynts Of Curas or of Mayle, or what-so-ere they tooke: Which caus'd him at the Knight disdainfully to looke.

VVhen our stout Palmer soone (vnknowne for valiant Guy) The cord from his straight loynes doth presently vntie, Puts off his Palmers weede vnto his trusse, which bore The staines of ancient Armes, but show'd it had before Beene costly cloth of Gold; and off his hood he threw: Out of his Hermits staffe his two-hand sword hee drew (The vnsuspected sheath which long to it had beene) Which till that instant time the people had not seene; A sword so often try'd. Then to himselfe, quoth hee, Armes let me craue your ayde, to set my Country free: And neuer shall my hart your help againe require, But onely to my God to lift you vp in pray'r.

Here, Colebrond forward made, and soone the Christian Knight Encounters him againe with equall power and spight: Whereas, betwixt them two, might easely haue been seene Such blowes, in publique throngs as vsed had they been, Of many there the least might many men haue slaine: Which none but they could strike, nor none but they sustaine; The most relentlesse eye that had the power to awe, And so great wonder bred in those the Fight that saw, As verily they thought, that Nature vntill then Had purposely reseru'd the vtmost power of men, VVhere strength still answerd strength, on courage courage grew.

Looke how two Lyons fierce, both hungry, both pursue One sweet and selfe-same prey, at one another flie, And with their armed pawes ingrappled dreadfully, The thunder of their rage, and boy strous struggling, make The neighboring Forrests round affrightedly to quake: Their sad encounter, such. The mightie Colebroud stroke A cruell blowe at Guy: which though hee finely broke,

Yet (with the weapons weight) his ancient hilt it split, And (thereby lessened much) the Champion lightly hit Vpon the reuerent brow: immediatly from whence The blood dropt softly downe, as if the wound had sense Of their much inward woe that it with griefe should see.

The Danes, a deadly blowe supposing it to bee, Sent such an ecchoing shoute that rent the troubled ayre. The English at the noise, wext all so wan with seare, As though They lost the blood their aged Champion shed: Yet were not these so pale, but th'other were as red; As though the blood that fell, vpon their cheekes had staid.

Here Guy, his better spirits recalling to his ayde, Came fresh vpon his foe; when mightie Colebrond makes An other desperate stroke: which Guy of Warwick takes Vndauntedly aloft; and followed with a blowe Vpon his shorter ribs, that the excessiue flowe Stream'd vp vnto his hilts: the wound so gap't withall, As though it meant to say, Behold your Champions fall By this proud Palmers hand. Such claps againe and cryes The ioyfull English gaue as cleft the very skies. VVhich comming on along from these that were without, When those within the Towne receiu'd this cheerfull shout, They answer'd them with like; as those their ioy that knew.

Then with such eager blowes each other they pursue, As euery offer made, should threaten imminent death; Vntill, through heat and toyle both hardly drawing breath, They desperatly doe close. Looke how two Boares, being set Together side to side, their threatning tusks doe whet, And with their gnashing teeth their angry foame doe bite, Whilst still they shouldring seeke, each other where to smite: Thus stood those irefull Knights; till flying back, at length The Palmer, of the two the first recouering strength, Vpon the left arme lent great Colebrond such a wound, That whilst his weapons poynt fell wel-neere to the ground, And slowly he it rais'd, the valiant Guy againe Sent through his clouen scalpe his blade into his braine. When downeward went his head, and vp his heeles he threw; As wanting hands to bid his Countrimen Adieu.

The English part, which thought an end he would haue made, And seeming as they much would in his praise haue said, He bad them yet forbeare, whilst he pursu'd his fame That to this passed King next in succession came; That great and puissant Knight (in whose victorious dayes Those knight-like deeds were done, no lesse deseruing praise) Braue Edmond, Edwards sonne, that Stafford hauing tane, VVith as succesfull speed won Darby from the Dane.

From Lester then againe, and Lincolne at the length, Draue out the Dacian Powers by his resistlesse strength: And this his England cleer'd beyond that raging * 1.961 Flood, Which that proud King of Hunnes once christned with his blood. By which, great Edmonds power apparantly was showne, The Land from Hamber South recouering for his owne; That Edgar after him so much disdain'd the Dane Vnworthy of a warre that should disturbe his raigne, As generally he seem'd regardlesse of their hate. And studying euery way magnificence in State, At Chester whilst he liu'd at more then kingly charge, Eight tributary h 1.962 Kings there row'd him in his Barge: His shores from Pirats sack the King that strongly kept: § A Neptune, whose proud sayles the British Ocean swept.

But after his decease, when his more hopefull sonne, § By cruell Stepdam's hate, to death was lastly done, To set his rightfull Crowne vpon a wrongfull head (When by thy fatall curse, licentious Etheldred, Through dissolutenes, sloth, and thy abhorred life, As greeuous were thy sinnes, so were thy sorrowes rife) The Dane, possessing all, the English forc't to beare A heauier yoke then first those Heathen slaueries were; Subiected, bought, and sold, in that most wretched plight, As euen their thraldome seem'd their neighbors to affright. Yet could not all their plagues the English height abate: But euen in their low'st Eb, and miserablest state, Courageously themselues they into action put, § And in one night, the throats of all the Danish cut.

And when in their reuenge, the most insatiate Dane Vnshipt them on our shores, vnder their puissant Swane: And swolne with hate and ire, their huge vnweeldy force, Came clustring like the Greeks out of the Woodden-horse: And the Norfoleian Townes, the neet'st vnto the East, With sacriledge and rape did terriblest infest; Those Danes yet from the shores we with such violence draue, That from our swords, their ships could them but hardly saue. And to renew the warre, that yeere ensuing, when With fit supplies for spoyle, they landed heere agen, And all the Southerne shores from Kent to Cornwall spred, With those disordred troupes by Alaffe hither led, In seconding their Swane, which cry'd to them for ayde; Their multitudes so much sad Ethelred dismay'd, As from his Country forc't the wretched King to flie. An English yet there was, when England seem'd to lie Vnder the heauiest yoke that euer kingdome bore, Who washt his secret knife in Swane's relentlesse gore,

Whilst (swelling in excesse) his lauish Cups he ply'd. Such meanes t'redeeme themselues th'afflicted Nation try'd. And when courageous Knute, th'late murther'd Swanus sonne, Came in t'reuenge that act on his great father done, He found so rare a spirit that heere against him rose, As though ordain'd by Heauen his greatness to oppose: Who with him foot to foot, and face to face durst stand. When Knute, which heere alone affected the Command, The Crowne vpon his head at faire South-hampton set: And Edmond, loth to lose what Knute desir'd to get, At London caus'd himselfe inaugurate to bee. King Knute would conquer all, King Edmond would be free.

The kingdome is the Prize for which they both are prest: And with their equall powers both meeting in the West, The greene Dorsetian fields a deepe vermillion dy'd: Where Gillingham gaue way to their great hostes (in pride) Abundantly their blood that each on other spent. But Edmond, on whose side that day the better went (And with like fortune thought the remnant to suppresse That Sarum then besieg'd, which was in great distresse) VVith his victorious troupes to Salsbury retires: VVhen with fresh bleeding wounds, Knute, as with fresh desires, Whose might though some-what maym'd, his mind yet vnsubdu'd, His lately conquering Foe, courageously pursu'd: And finding out a way, sent to his friends with speed, VVho him supply'd with ayde: and being helpt at need, Tempts Edmond still to fight, still hoping for a day.

Towards Worstershire their Powers both well vpon their way, There, falling to the Field, in a continuall fight Two dayes the angry hosts still parted were by Night: Where twice the rising Sunne, and twice the setting, saw Them with their equall wounds their wearied breath to draw.

Great London to surprize, then (next) Canutus makes: And thitherward as fast King Edmond Ironside takes. Whilst Knute set downe his siege before the Easterne gate, King Edmond through the VVest, past in tryumphall state. But this courageous King, that scorned, in his pride, A Towne should be besieg'd wherein he did abide, Into the fields againe the valiant Edmond goes. Kanutus, yet that hopes to winne what he did lose, Provokes him still to fight: and falling backe where they Might field-roomth find at large, their Ensignes to display, Together flewe againe; that Brentford, with the blood Of Danes and English mixt, discoloured long time stood. Yet Edmond, as before, went Victor still away.

VVhen soone that valiant Knute, whom nothing could dismay,

Recall'd his scattered troupes, and into Essex hies, VVhere (as ill fortune would) the Dane with fresh supplies VVas lately come a-land, to whom braue Ironside makes; But Knute to him againe as soone fresh courage takes: And Fortune (as her selfe) determining to showe That shee could bring an Eb, on valiant Edmonds Flowe, And easely cast him downe from off the top of Chance, By turning of her wheele, Canutus doth advance. VVhere shee beheld that Prince which she had fauor'd long (Euen in her proud despight) his murther'd troupes among With sweat and blood besmear'd (Dukes, Earles, and Bishops slaine, In that most dreadfull day, when all went to the Dane) Through worlds of dangers wade; and with his Sword and Shield, Such wonders there to act as made her in the Field Ashamed of her selfe, so braue a spirit as he By her vnconstant hand should so much wronged be.

But, hauing lost the day, to Glocester hee drawes, To raise a second power in his slaine souldiers cause. VVhen late-encourag'd Knute, whilst fortune yet doth last, VVho oft from Ironside fled, now followed him as fast.

VVhilst thus in Ciuill Armes continually they toyle, And what th'one striues to make, the other seeks to spoyle, VVith threatning swords still drawne; and with obnoxious hands Attending their reuenge, whilst either enemie stands, One man amongst the rest from this confusion breaks, And to the irefull Kings with courage boldly speakes;

Yet cannot all this blood your rauenous out-rage fill? Is there no law, no bound, to your ambitious will, But what your swords admit? as Nature did ordaine Our liues for nothing else, but onely to maintaine Your murthers, sack, and spoyle? If by this wastfull warre The Land vnpeopled lye, some Nation shall from farre, By ruine of you both, into the Ile be brought, Obtayning that for which you twaine so long haue fought, Vnlesse then through your thirst of Emperie you meane Both Nations in these broyles shall be extinguisht cleane, Select you Champions fit, by them to proue your right, Or try it man to man your selues in single fight.

When as those warlike Kings, prouokt with courage hie, It willingly accept in person by and by. And whilst they them prepare, the shapelesse concourse growes In little time so great, that their vnusuall flowes Surrounded Severns banks, whose streame amazed stood, Her Birlich to behold, in-Iled with her flood, That with refulgent Armes then flamed; whilst the Kings, VVhose rage out of the hate of eithers Empire springs,

Both armed, Cap á Pe, vpon their barred horse Together fiercely flew; that in their violent course (Like thunder when it speaks most horribly and lowd, Tearing the ful-stuft panch of some congealed clowd) Their strong hoofes strooke the earth: and with the fearfull shock, Their speares in splinters flew, their Beuers both vnlock.

Canutus, of the two that furthest was from hope, Who found with what a Foe his fortune was to cope, Cryes, noble Edmond, hold; Let vs the Land diuide. Heere th'English and the Danes, from either equall side VVere Ecchoes to his words, and all aloud doe cry, Courageous Kings diuide; twere pitty such should die.

When now the neighboring Floods, will'd Wrekin to suppresse His style, or they were like to surfet with excesse. And time had brought about, that now they all began To listen to a long told Prophecie, which ran Of Moreland, that shee might liue prosperously to see A Riuer borne of her, who well might reccon'd be The third of this large Ile: which Saw did first arise From Arden, in those dayes deliuering prophecies.

The Druids (as some say) by her instructed were. In many secret skills shee had been cond her lere. The ledden of the Birds most perfectly shee knew: And also from their flight strange Auguries shee drew; Supreamest in her place: whose circuit was extent From Avon to the Banks of Severne and to Trent: Where Empresse like shee sate with Natures bounties blest, And seru'd by many a Nymph; but two, of all the rest, That Staffordshire calls hers, there both of high account. The eld'st of which is Canke: though Needwood her surmount, In excellence of soyle, by beeing richly plac't, Twixt Trent and batning Doue; and, equally imbrac't By their abounding banks, participates their store; Of Britaines Forrests all (from th'lesse vnto the more) For finenesse of her turfe surpassing; and doth beare Her curled head so high, that Forrests farre and neere Oft grutch at her estate; her florishing to see, Of all their stately tyers disrobed when they bee. But (as the world goes now) ô wofull Canke the while, As braue a Wood-Nymph once as any of this Ile; Great Ardens eldest child: which, in her mothers ground Before fayre Feck'nhams selfe, her old age might haue crownd; When as those fallow Deere, and huge-hancht Stags that graz'd Vpon her shaggy Heaths, the passenger amaz'd To see their mighty Heards, with high-palmd heads to threat The woods of o'regrowne Oakes; as though they meant to set

Their hornes to th'others heights. But now, both those and these Are by vile gaine deuour'd: So abiect are our daies. Shee now, vnlike herselfe, a Neatheards life doth liue, And her deiected mind to Country cares doth giue.

But Muse, thou seem'st to leaue the Morelands too too long: Of whom report may speake (our mightie wastes among) Shee from her chilly site, as from her barren feed, For body, horne, and haire, as faire a Beast doth breed As scarcely this great Ile can equall: then of her, Why should'st thou all this while the prophecie defer? Who bearing many Springs, which pretty Riuers grew, Shee could not be content, vntill shee fully knew VVhich child it was of hers (borne vnder such a fate) As should in time be rays'd vnto that high estate. (I faine would haue you thinke, that this was long agoe, When many a Riuer, now that furiously doth flowe, Had scarcely learn'd to creepe) and therefore shee doth will Wise Arden, from the depth of her abundant skill, To tell her which of these her Rills it was shee ment. To satisfie her will, the Wisard answers; Trent. For, as a skilfull Seer, the aged Forrest wist, A more then vsuall power did in that name consist, Which thirty doth import; by which she thus divin'd, * 1.963 There should be found in her, of Fishes thirty kind; And thirty Abbeys great, in places fat and ranke, Should in succeeding time be builded on her banke; And thirtie seuerall Streames from many a sundry way, Vnto her greatnesse should their watry tribute pay.

This, Moreland greatly lik't: yet in that tender loue, Which shee had euer borne vnto her darling Doue, Shee could haue wisht it his: because the daintie grasse That growes vpon his banke, all other doth surpasse. But, subiect he must be: as Sow, which from her Spring, At Stafford meeteth Penk, which shee along doth bring To Trent by Tixall grac't, the Astons ancient seat; Which oft the Muse hath found her safe and sweet retreat. The noble Owners now of which beloued place, Good fortunes them and theirs with honor'd titles grace: May heauen still blesse that House, till happy Floods you see Your selues more grac't by it, then it by you can bee. Whose bounty, still my Muse so freely shall confesse, As when she shall want words, her signes shall it expresse.

So Blyth beares easely downe tow'rds her deere Soueraigne Trent: But nothing in the world giues Moreland such content As her owne darling Doue his confluence to behold Of Floods in sundry straines: as, crankling Many-fold

The first that lends him force: of whose meandred waies, And labyrinth-like turnes (as in the Mores shee straies) Shee first receiu'd her name, by growing strangely mad, Or'e-gone with loue of Hanse, a dapper More-land Lad. Who neere their crystall springs as in those wasts they playd, Bewitcht the wanton hart of that delicious mayd: Which instantly was turn'd so much from beeing coy, That shee might seeme to doat vpon the Morish boy. Who closely stole away (perceiuing her intent) VVith his deare Lord the Doue, in quest of Princely Trent, VVith many other Floods (as, Churnet, in his traine That draweth Dunsmore on, with Yendon, then cleere Taine, That comes alone to Doue) of which, Hanse one would bee. And for himselfe he faine of Many-fold would free (Thinking this amorous Nymph by some meanes to beguile) He closely vnder earth convayes his head a while. But, when the Riuer feares some policie of his, And her beloued Hanse immediatly doth miss, Distracted in her course, improuidently rash, Shee oft against the Cleeues her crystall front doth dash: Now forward, then againe shee backward seemes to beare; As, like to lose her selfe by straggling heere and there.

Hanse, that this while suppos'd him quite out of her sight, No sooner thrusts his head into the cheerfull light, But Many-fold that still the Run-away doth watch, Him (ere he was aware) about the neck doth catch: And, as the angry Hanse would faine her hold remoue, They struggling tumble downe into their Lord, the Doue.

Thus though th'industrious Muse hath been imploy'd so long, Yet is shee loth to doe poore little Smest all wrong, That from her Wilfrunes Spring neere Hampton plyes, to pour The wealth shee there receiues, into her friendly Stowr. Nor shall the little Bourne haue cause the Muse to blame, From these Staffordian Heathes that striues to catch the Tame: VVhom shee in her next Song shall greet with mirthfull cheere, So happily arriu'd now in her natiue Shire.

Illustrations.

TAking her progresse into the Land, the Muse comes Southward from Cheshire into adioyning Stafford, and that part of Shropshire, which lies in the English side, East from Seuerne.

And into lesser streames the spatious current cut.

In that rageing deuastation ouer this Kingdome by the Danes, they had

gotten diuers of their Ships fraught with prouision out of Thames into the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (which diuides Middlesex and Essex) some XX. miles from London; Alfred holding his 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that territory, especially to preuent their spoile of the instant Haruest, obserued that by diuiding the Riuer, then Nauigable betweene them and Thames, their Ships would be grounded, and themselues berest of what confidence their Nauy had promised them. He thought it, and did it, by parting the water into three channels. The Danes betooke themselues to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Ships left as a prey to the Londoners.

Her Lords imbraces vow'd she neuer more would know.

This Alured left his sonne Edward successor, and, among other children, this Elfled, or Ethelfled his daughter, married to Ethelred Earle of Mercland. Of Alfreds worth and troublous raigne, because here the Author leaues him, I of∣fer you these of an ancient English wit:
Nobilit as innatatibi probitatis honorem
Armipotens Alfrede dedit, probitas{que} laborem
Perpetuúmq, labor nomen. Cui mixta dolori
Gaudia semper erant spes semper mixta timori.
Si modo Victor eras ad Crastina bella pauebas:
Simodo victus eras adcrastina bella parabas
Cui vestes sudore iugi, Cui sica cruore
Tincta iugi, quantum sit Onus regnare probarunt.
Huntingdon cites these as his owne; and if he deale plainly with vs (I doubted it because his Ms. Epigrams, which make in some copies the XI. and XII. of his Historie, are of most different straine, and seeme made when Apollo was eyther angry, or had not leisure to ouerlooke them) hee shewes his Muse (as also in an other written by him vpon Edgar, beginning Auctor opum, vindex scelerum Largitor honorum, &c.) in that still declining time of learnings-state, worthy of much precedence. Of Ethelfled in William of Malmesbury, is the Latine of this English: Shewas the loue of the subiect, feare of the enemy, a woman of a mighty hart; hauing once endur'd the grieuous paines of child-birth, euer afterward denied her husband those sweeter desires; protesting, that, yeelding iudulgence towards a plea∣sure, hauing so much consequent paine, was vnseemly in a Kings daughter. She was buried at S. Peters in Glocester; her name loaden by Monkes, with numbers of her excellencies.

For Constantine their King, an hostage hither brought.

After he had taken Wales and Scotland (as our Historians say) from Howel, Malmesbury call's him Ludwal, and Constantine; he restored presently their * 1.964 Kingdomes, affirming, that, it was more for his Maiesty to make a King then be one. The Scotish a 1.965 stories are not agreeing, here, with ours; against whom Bu∣chanan stormes, for affirming what I see not how he is so well able to confute, as they to iustifie. And for matter of that nature, I rather send you to the colle∣ctions in Ed. I. by Thomas of Walsingham, and thence for the same and other to Edw. Halls Hen. VIII.

A Neptune, whose proud sailes the British Ocean swept.

That Flower and delight of the English world, in whose birth-time S. Dun∣stane (as is said) at Glastenbury, heard this * 1.966 Angelicall voyce;
To holy Church and to the Lord Pays is ybore and blis
By thulke Childs time, that nouthe ybore is.

(among his other innumerable benefits, and royall cares) had a Nauy of * 1.967 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. DC. Saile; which by tripartit diuision in the East, West, and Northern coasts; both defended what was subiect to Pirats rapine, and so made strong his owne Nation against the enemies inuasion.

By ciuill Stepdames hate to death was lastly done.

Edgar had by one woman (his greatest stains shew'd themselues in this variety and vnlawfull obtayning of Lustfull sensualitie, as Stories will tell you, in that of Earle Ethelwald, the Nunne Wulfrith, and the yong lasse of Andeuer) call'd Egelsled, surnamed Ened, daughter to Odmer a great Nobleman, Edward; and by Q. Elfrith, daughter to Orgar Earle of Deuonshire, Ethelred of some VII. yeares age at his death. That, Egelfled was a profest b 1.968 Nunne, some haue argued and so make Ethelred the onely legitimat heire to the Crowne: nor doe I think that, except Alfrith. he was married to any of the Ladies, on whom he got chil∣dren. Edward was anoynted King (for in those dayes was that vse of Anoin∣ting among the Saxon Princes, and began in K. Alfred) but not without disli∣king grudges of his Stepmothersfaction, which had neuertheles in substance, what his vaine name onely of King pretended: but her bloudy hate, bred out of womanish ambition, strayning to euery point of Soueraignty, not thus * 1.969 satisfied, compeld in her this cruelty. K. Edward not suspecting her dissembled purposes with simple kindnes of an open Nature, weary'd after the Chase in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Ile in Dorsetshire, without gard or attendance, visits her at Corfe Castle; shee, vnder sweet words and saluting kisses, palliating her hellish designe, en∣tertaines him: but while he being very hot and thirsty (without imagination of treason) was in pledging her, she * 1.970 or one of her appointed seruants, stab'd the innocent King. His corps, within little space expiring its last breath, was buri∣ed at Warbam, thence afterward by Alfer Earle of Mercland, translated into Shafisbury, which (as to the II. Song I note) was hereby for a time called c 1.971 S. Ed∣wards. Thus did his brother in law Ethelred (according to wicked Elfriths cruell and trayterous Proiect) succeed him. As, of Constantine Copronymus, the Greekes, so, of this Ethelred, is affirmed, that, in his holy tincture he abus'd the Font with naturall excrements, which made S. Dunstan, then Christning him, angrily exclaime, * 1.972 Per Deum & Matrem eius ignauus homo erit. Some ten yeares of age was he, when his brother Edward was slaine, and, out of chil∣dish affection, wept for him bitterly; which his mother extremely disliking, being author of the murther onely for his sake, most cruelly beathim her selfe with d 1.973 an handfull of Wax
—Candlen long and towe
* 1.974 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ne bileued noght ar he lay at hir * 1.975 bet pswowe:
War thoru this child afterward such hey mon as he was
Was the worse wan he * 1.976 ysey Candlett bor this cas.
But I haue c 1.977 read it affirm'd, that Ethelred neuer would endure any Wax Can∣dles, because he had seene his mother vnmercifully with them whip the good S. Edward. Its not worth one of the Candles, which be the truer; I incline to the first. To expiat all, she afterward built two Nunneries, one at Werwell, the other at Ambresbury; and by all meanes of Penitence and Satisfaction (as the do∣ctrine then directed) endeuoured her freedome out of this horrible offence.

And in one night the throats of all the Danish cut.

History, not this place, must informe the Reader of more particulars of the Daues; and let him see to the I. Song. But, for this slaughter, I thus ease his In∣quisition.

Etbelred (after multitudes of miseries, long continued through their * 1.978 exactions and deuastations, being so large, that XVI. Shires had endured their cruell and euen conquering spoyles) in the XXIII. of his raigne, strengthned with prouoking hopes, grounded on alliance, which, by marriage 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Emma, daughter of Richard I. Duke of Normandy, he had with his neighbour Poten∣tate, sent priuy letters into euery place of note, where the Danes by truce peace∣ably resided, to the English, commanding them, all as one, on the selfe same day and houre appointed (the day was S. Brictius, that is, the XIII. of Nouem∣ber) suddainly to put them, as respectiue occasion best fitted, to fire or sword: which was performed.

A Chronologicall order and descent of the Kings here included in Wrekins Song.

ACHR.

DCCC.

Egbert sonne to Inegild (others call him Alhmund) grandchild to K. Ine. After * 1.979 him scarce any none long, had the name of King in the Isle, but Gouernors or Earles; the common titles being Duces, Comites, Con∣sules, and such like; which in some writers after the Conquest were indifferent names, and William the I. is often called Earle of Normandy.

DCCC. XXXVI.

Ethelulph sonne to Egbert.

DCCC. LV.

Ethelbald and Ethelbert, sonnes to Ethelulph, diuiding their Kingdome, according to their fathers Testament.

DCCC. LX.

Ethelbert alone, after Ethelbalds death.

DCCC. LXVI.

Ethelred, third sonne of Ethelulph.

DCC. LXXI.

Alfred yongest sonne to Ethelulph, brought vp at Rome; and there, in Ethelreds lifetime, Anointed by P P. Leo IV. as in ominous hope of his future Kingdome.

DCCCC. I.

Edward I. surnamed in Storie * 1.980 Senior, sonne to Alfred.

DCCCC. XXIV.

Atbelstan, eldest sonne to Edward, by Egwine a She∣pheards daughter; but, to whom Beauty and Noble spi∣rit denied, what base Parentage required. She, before the K. lay with her, dream't (you remember that of O∣lympias, and many such like) that out of her wombe did shine a Moone, enlightning all England, which in her Birth (Athelstan) prou'd true.

DCCCC. XL.

Edmund I. sonne of * 1.981 Edward by his Q Edgiue.

DCCCC. XLVI.

Edred brother to Edmund.

DCCCC. LV.

Edwy first sonne of Edmund.

DCCCC. LIX.

Edgar (second sonne of Edmund) * 1.982 Honor ac Deliciae Anglorum.

DCCCC. LXXV.

Edward II. sonne to Edgar by Egelfled, murdred by his Stepmother Alfrith, and thence call'd S. Edward.

DCCCC. LXXIX

Ethelred II. sonne to Edgar, by Q. Alfrith, daughter to Orgar Earle of Deuonshire.

〈◊〉〈◊〉.XVI.

Edmund II. sonne to Ethelned by his first wife Elfgiue, surna∣med 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

Betweene him and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (or 〈◊〉〈◊〉) the Dane, sonne to Swaine, was that in∣tended single combat; so by their owne particular fortunes, to end the mise∣ries, which the English soile bore recorded in very great Characters, written with streames of her childrens bloud. It properly here breakes off; for (the composition being, that Edmund should haue his part Westsex, Estsex, Estangle, Middlesex, Surrey, Kent, and Sussex, and the Dane (who durst not fight it out, but 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for a Treaty) Mercland and the Northern territories) Edmund died the same yeare (some report was, that trayterous Edrique 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Earle of Mercland poysoned him) leauing sonnes Edmund and Edward: but they were, by Danish ambition, and trayterous periury of the vnnaturall English State, disinherited, and all the Kingdome cast vnder 〈◊〉〈◊〉. After him raign'd his sonne Harold I. Lightfoot a Shoomakers * 1.983 sonne (but 〈◊〉〈◊〉, as begotten by him on his Q. Alfgiue:) then, with Harold, Haracnut, whom he had by his wife Emma, K. Ethelreds Dowager. So that from Edmund, of Saxon bloud (to whose glory Wrekin hath dedicated his endeuor; and therefore should tran∣scend his purpose, if he exceeded their Empire) vntill Edward the Confessor, fol∣lowing Hardcnut, sonne to Ethelred, by the same Q. 〈◊〉〈◊〉, the Kingdome con∣tinued vnder Danish Princes.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The thirteenth Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

This Song our Shire of Warwick sounds; Reviues old Ardens ancient bounds. Through many shapes the Muse heere roues; Now sporting in those shady Groues, The tunes of Birds oft staies to heare: Then, finding Herds of lustie Deare, She Huntresse-like the Hart pursues; And like a Hermit walks, to chuse The Simples euery where that growe; Comes Ancors glory next to showe; Tells Guy of Warwicks famous deeds; To th'Vale of Red-horse then proceeds, To play her part the rest among; There shutteth vp her thirteenth Song.

VPon the Mid-lands now th'industrious Muse doth fall; That Shire which wee the hart of England well may call, * 1.984 As shee her selfe extends (the midst which is decreed) Betwixt S. Michaels Mount, and Barwick-bord'ring Tweed, Braue Warwick; that abroad so long advanc't her * 1.985 Beare, § By her illustrious Earles renowned euery where; Aboue her neighboring Shires which alwaies bore her head.

My natiue Country then, which so 〈◊〉〈◊〉 spirits hast bred, If there be vertue yet remaining in thy earth, Or any good of thine thou breathd'st into my birth, Accept it as thine owne whilst now I sing of thee; Of all thy later Brood th'vnworthiest though I bee.

Muse, first of Arden tell, whose foot-steps yet are found In her rough wood-lands more then any other ground * 1.986 § That mighty Arden held euen in her height of pride; Her one hand touching Trent, the other, Severns side.

The very sound of these, the Wood-Nymphs doth awake: When thus of her owne selfe the ancient Forrest spake;

My many goodly sites when first I came to showe, Here opened I the way to myne owne ouer-throwe: For, when the world found out the fitnesse of my soyle, The gripple wretch began immediatly to spoyle My tall and goodly woods, and did my grounds inclose: By which, in little time my bounds I came to lose.

When Britaine first her fields with Villages had fild, Her people wexing still, and wanting where to build, They oft dislodg'd the Hart, and set their houses, where He in the Broome and Brakes had long time made his leyre. Of all the Forrests heere within this mightie Ile, If those old Britains then me Soucraigne did instile, I needs must be the great'st; for greatnesse tis alone That giues our kind the place: else were there many a one For pleasantnes of shade that farre doth mee excell. But, of our Forrests kind the quality to tell, VVe equally partake with Wood-land as with Plaine, A like with Hill and Dale; and euery day maintaine The sundry kinds of beasts vpon our copious wast's, That men for profit breed, as well as those of chase.

Here Arden of her selfe ceast any more to showe; And with her Sylvan ioyes the Muse along doth goe.

When Phoebus lifts his head out of the Winters waue, No sooner doth the Earth her flowerie bosome braue, At such time as the Yeere brings on the pleasant Spring, But Hunts-vp to the Morne the feath'red Sylvans sing: And in the lower Groue, as in the rising Knole, Vpon the highest spray of euery mounting pole, Those Quirristers are pearcht with many aspeckled breast. Then from her burnisht gate the goodly glittring East Guilds euery lofty top, which late the humorous Night Bespangled had with pearle, to please the Mornings sight: On which the mirthfull Quires, with their cleere open throats, Vnto the ioyfull Morne so straine their warbling notes, That Hills and Valleys ring, and euen the ecchoing Ayre Scemes all compos'd of sounds, about them euery where. The Throstell, with shrill Sharps; as purposely he song Tawake the lustlesse Sunne; or chyding, that so long He was in comming forth, that should the thickets thrill: The Woosell neere at hand, that hath a golden bill; As Nature him had markt of purpose, t'let vs see That from all other Birds his tunes should different bee: For, with their vocall sounds, they sing to pleasant May; Vpon his d 1.987 dulcet pype the Merle doth onely play. When in the lower Brake, the Nightingale hard-by, In such lamenting straines the ioyfull howres doth ply,

As though the other Birds shee to her tunes would draw. And, but that Nature (by her all-constraining law) Each Bird to her owne kind this season doth invite, They else, alone to heare that Charmer of the Night (The more to vse their eares) their voyces sure would spare, That moduleth her tunes so admirably rare, As man to set in Parts, at first had learn'd of her.

To Philomell the next, the Linet we prefer; And by that warbling bird, the Wood-Larke place we then, The Red-sparrow, the Nope, the Red-breast, and the Wren, The Yellow-pate: which though shee hurt the blooming tree, Yet scarce hath any bird a finer pype then shee. And of these chaunting Fowles, the Goldfinch not behind, That hath so many sorts descending from her kind. The Tydie for her notes as delicate as they, The laughing Hecco, then the counterfetting Iay, The Softer, with the (Shrill some hid among the leaues, Some in the taller trees, some in the lower greaues) Thus sing away the Morne, vntill the mounting Sunne, Through thick exhaled fogs, his golden head hath runne, And through the twisted tops of our close Couert creeps To kisse the gentle Shade, this while that sweetly sleeps.

And neere to these our Thicks, the wild and frightfull Heards, Not hearing other noyse but this of chattering Birds, Feed fairely on the Launds; both sorts of seasoned Deere: Here walke, the stately Red, the freckled Fallowe there: The Bucks and lusty Stags amongst the Rascalls strew'd, As sometime gallant spirits amongst the multitude.

Of all the Beasts which we for our * 1.988 veneriall name, The Hart amongst the rest, the Hunters noblest game: Of which most 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Chase sith none did ere report, Or by description touch, t'expresse that wondrous sport (Yet might haue well beseem'd th'ancients nobler Songs) To our old Arden heere, most fitly it belongs: Yet shall shee not invoke the Muses to her ayde; But thee Diana bright, a Goddesse and a mayd: In many a huge-growne Wood, and many a shady Groue, Which oft hast borne thy Bowe (great Huntresse) vs'd to roue At many a cruell beast, and with thy darts to pierce The Lyon, Panther, Ounce, the Beare, and Tiger fierce; And following thy fleet Game, chaste mightie Forrests Queene, With thy disheueld Nymphsattyr'd in youthfull greene, About the Launds hast scowr'd, and Wastes both farre and neere, Braue Huntresse: but no beast shall proue thy Quarries heere; Saue those the best of Chase, the tall and lusty Red, The Stag for goodly shape, and statelinesse of head,

Is fitt'st to hunt at force. For whom, when with his hounds The laboring Hunter tufts the thicke vnbarbed grounds * 1.989 Where harbor'd is the Hart; there often from his feed The dogs of him doe find; or thorough skilfull heed, The Huntsman by his * 1.990 slot, or breaking earth, perceaues, Or entring of the thicke by pressing of the greaues Where he hath gone to lodge. Now when the Hart doth heare The often-bellowing hounds to vent his secret leyre, He rouzing rusheth out, and through the Brakes doth driue, As though vp by the roots the bushes he would riue. And through the combrous thicks, as fearefully he makes, Hee with his branched head, the tender Saplings shakes, That sprinkling their moyst pearle doe seeme for him to weepe; VVhen after goes the Cry, with yellings lowd and deepe, That all the Forrest rings, and euery neighbouring place: And there is not a hound but falleth to the Chase. f 1.991 Rechating with his horne, which then the Hunter cheeres, VVhilst still the lustie Stag his high-palm'd head vp-beares, His body showing state, with vnbent knees vpright, Expressing (from all beasts) his courage in his flight. But when th'approaching foes still following he perceiues, That hee his speed must trust, his vsuall walke he leaues; And or'e the Champaine flies: which when th'assembly find, Each followes, as his horse were footed with the wind. But beeing then imbost, the noble stately Deere When he hath gotten ground (the kennell castarere) Doth beat the Brooks and Ponds for sweet refreshing soyle: That seruing not, then proues if he his sent can foyle, And makes amongst the Heards, and flocks of shag-wooll'd Sheepe, Them frighting from the guard of those who had their keepe. But when as all his shifts his safety still denies, Put quite out of his walke, the wayes and fallowes tryes. Whom when the Plow-man meets, his teame he letteth stand T'assaile him with his goad: so with his hooke in hand, The Shepheard him pursues, and to his dog doth halow: When, with tempestuous speed, the hounds and Huntsmen follow; Vntill the noble Deere through toyle bereau'd of strength, His long and sinewy legs then fayling him at length, The Villages attempts, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, not giuing way To any thing hee meets now at his sad decay. The cruell rauenous hounds and bloody Hunters neer, This noblest beast of Chase, that vainly doth but feare, Some banke or quick-set finds: to which his hanch oppos'd, He turnes vpon his foes, that soone haue him inclos'd. The churlish throated hounds then holding him at bay, And as their cruell fangs on his harsh skin they lay,

With his sharp-poynted head he dealeth deadly wounds.

The Hunter, comming in to helpe his wearied hounds, He desperatly assailes; vntill opprest by force, He who the Mourner is to his owne dying Corse, * 1.992 Vpon the ruthlesse earth his precious teares lets fall.

To Forrests that belongs; but yet this is not all: With solitude what sorts, that here's not wondrous rife? Whereas the Hermit leades a sweet retyred life, From Villages repleate with ragg'd and sweating Clownes, And from the lothsome ayres of smoky cittied Townes. Suppose twixt noone and night, the Sunne his halfe-way wroughr * 1.993 (The shadowes to be large, by his descending brought) Who with a feruent eye lookes through the twyring glades, And his dispersed rayes commixeth with the shades, Exhaling the milch dewe, which there had tarried long, And on the ranker grasse till past the noone-sted hong; When as the Hermet comes out of his homely Cell, Where from all rude resort he happily doth dwell: VVho in the strength of youth, a man at Armes hath been; * 1.994 Or one who of this world the vilenesse hauing seene, Retyres him from it quite; and with a constant mind Mans beastliness so loathes, that flying humane kind, The black and darksome nights, the bright and gladsome dayes Indifferent are to him, his hope on God that staies. Each little Village yeelds his short and homely fare: To gather wind-falne sticks, his great'st and onely care; VVhich euery aged tree still yeeldeth to his fire.

This man, that is alone a King in his desire, By no proud ignorant Lord is basely ouer-aw'd, Nor his false prayse affects, who grosly beeing claw'd, Stands like an itchy Moyle; nor of a pin he wayes What fooles, abused Kings, and humorous Ladies raise. His free and noble thought, nere envies at the grace That often times is giuen vnto a Baud most base, Nor stirres it him to thinke on the Impostour vile, Who seeming what hee's not, doth sensually beguile The sottish purblind world: but absolutely free, His happy time he spends the works of God to see, In those so sundry hearbs which there in plenty growe: VVhose sundry strange effects he onely seeks to knowe. And in a little Maund, beeing made of Oziars small, VVhich serueth him to doe full many a thing withall, He very cholcely sorts his Simples got abroad.

Heere finds he on an Oake Rheume-purging Polipode; And in some open place that to the Sunne doth lye, He Fumitorie gets, and Eye-bright for the eye:

The Yarrow, where-with-all he stops the wound-made gore: The healing Tutsan then, and Plantan for a sore. And hard by them againe he holy Vervaine finds, Which he about his head that hath the Megrim binds. The wonder-working Dill hee gets not farre from these, Which curious women vse in many a nice disease. For them that are with Newts, or Snakes, or Adders stong, He seeketh out an hearbe that's called Adders-tong; As Nature it ordain'd, its owne like hurt to cure, And sportiue did her selfe to niceties invre. Valerian then he crops, and purposely doth stampe, T'apply vnto the place that's haled with the Crampe. As Century, to close the wideness of a wound: The belly hurt by birth, by Mugwort to make sound. His Chickweed cures the heat that in the face doth rise.

For Physick, some againe he inwardly applyes. For comforting the Spleene and Liuer, gets for iuce, Pale Hore-hound, which he holds of most especiall vse. So Saxifrage is good, and Harts-tongue for the Stone, With Agrimony, and that hearbe we call S. Iohn. To him that hath a flux, of Sheepheards purse he giues, And Mous-eare vnto him whom some sharpe rupture grieues. And for the laboring wretch that's troubled with a cough, Or stopping of the breath, by fleagme that's hard and tough, Campana heere he crops, approoued wondrous good: As Comfrey vnto him that's brused, spetting blood; And from the Falling-ill, by Fiue-leafe doth restore, And Melancholy cures by soueraigne Hellebore.

Of these most helpfull hearbs yet tell we but a few, To those vnnumbred sorts of Simples here that grew. Which iustly to set downe, euen Dodon short doth fall; * 1.995 Nor skilfull Gerard, yet, shall euer find them all.

But from our Hermit heere the Muse we must inforce, And zealously proceed in our intended course: How Arden of her Rills and Riuerets doth dispose; By Alcester how Alne to Arro easely flowes; And mildly beeing mixt, to Avon hold their way: And likewise tow'rd the North, how liuely-tripping Rhea, T'attend the lustier Tame, is from her Fountaine sent: So little Cole and Blyth goe on with him to Trent. His Tamworth at the last, he in his way doth win: There playing him awhile, till Ancor should come in, Which trifleth twixt her banks, obseruing state, so slowe, As though into his armes she scorn'd her selfe to throwe: Yet Arden will'd her Tame to serue * 1.996 her on his knee; For by that Nymph alone, they both should honor'd be.

The Forrest so much falne from what she was before, That to her former height Fate could her not restore; Though oft in her behaise, the Genius of the Land Importuned the Heauens with an auspicious hand. Yet granted at the last (the aged Nymph to grace) They by a Ladies birth would more renowne that place Then if her Woods their heads aboue the Hills should seat; And for that purpose, first made Couentry so great (A poore thatcht Village then, or scarcely none at all, That could not once haue dream'd of her now stately wall) § And thither wisely brought that goodly Virgin-band, Th'eleuen thousand maids, chaste Vrsula's Commaund, Whom then the Britaine Kings gaue her full power to presse, For matches to their friends in Britanny the lesse. At whose departure thence, each by her iust bequest Some speciall vertue gaue, ordayning it to rest With one of their owne sex, that there her birth should haue, Till fulnesse of the time which Fate did choicely saue; Vntill the Saxons raigne, when Couentry at length, From her small, meane regard, recouered state and strength, § By Leofrick her Lord yet in base bondage held, The people from her Marts by tollage who expeld: Whose Dutchesse, which desir'd this tribute to release, Their freedome often begg'd. The Duke, to make her cease, Told her that if shee would his losse so farre inforce, His will was, shee should ride starke nak't vpon a horse By day light through the street: which certainly he thought, In her heroïck breast so deeply would haue wrought, That in her former sute she would haue left to deale. But that most princely Dame, as one deuour'd with zeale, Went on, and by that meane the Cittie cleerly freed.

The first part of whose name, Godiua, doth forereed Th'first syllable of hers, and Goodere halfe doth sound; For by agreeing words, great matters haue been found. But further then this place the mysterie extends. What Arden had begun, in Ancor lastly ends: For in the British tongue, the Britaines could not find, Wherefore to her that name of Ancor was assign'd: Nor yet the Saxons since, nor times to come had known, But that her beeing heere, was by this name fore-shown, As prophecying her. For, as the first did tell Her Sir-name, so againe doth Ancor liuely spell Her Christned title Anne. And as those Virgins there Did sanctifie that Place: so holy Edith heere A Recluse long time liu'd, in that faire Abbey plac't Which Alured enricht, and Powlesworth highly grac't.

A Princesse being borne, and Abbesse, with those Maids, All Noble like her selfe, in bidding of their Beads Their holinesse bequeath'd, vpon her to descend Which there should after liue: in whose deere selfe should end Th'intent of Ancors name, her comming that decreed, As hers (her place of birth) faire Couentry that freed.

But whist about this tale smooth Ancor tryfling stayes, Vnto the lustier Tame as loth to come her waies, The Flood intreats her thus; Deere Brooke, why doost thou wrong Our mutuall loue so much, and tediously prolong Our mirthfull mariage-howre, for which I still prepare? Haste to my broader banks, my ioy and onely care. For as of all my Floods thou art the first in fame; When frankly thou shalt yeeld thine honor to my name, I will protect thy state: then doe not wrong thy kind. What pleasure hath the world that heere thou maist not find?

Hence, Muse, divert thy course to Dunsmore, by that f 1.997 Crosse Where those two mightie g 1.998 waies, the Watling and the Fosse, Our Center seeme to cut. (The first doth hold her way, From Douer, to the farth'st of fruitfull Anglesey: The second South and North, from Michaels vtmost Mount, To Cathnesse, which the furth'st of Scotland wee account.) And then proceed to showe, how Avon from her Spring, By Newnhams Fount is blest; and how she, blandishing, * 1.999By Dunsmore driues along. Whom Sow doth first assist, Which taketh Shirburn in, with Cune, a great while mist; Though h 1.1000 Couentry from thence her name at first did raise, Now florishing with Fanes, and proud Piramides; Her walls in good repaire, her Ports so brauely built, Her halls in good estate, her Crosse so richly gilt, As scorning all the Townes that stand within her view: Yet must shee not be grieu'd, that Cune should claime her due.

Tow'rds Warwick with this traine as Avon trips along, To Guy-cliffe beeing come, her Nymphs thus brauely song; To thee renowned Knight, continuall prayse wee owe, And at thy hallowed Tom be thy yeerely Obijts showe; Who, thy deere Phillis name and Country to advance, Left'st Warwicks wealthy seate: and sayling into France, At Tilt, from his proud Steed, Duke Otton threw'st to ground: And with th'invalewed Prize of Blanch the beautious crown'd (The Almaine Emperors heire) high acts didst there atchieue: As Lovaine thou againe didst valiantly relieue. Thou in the Soldans blood thy worthy sword imbru'dst; And then in single fight, great Amerant subdu'dst. T'was thy Herculian hand, which happily destroy'd That Dragon, which so long Northumberland annoy'd;

And slew that cruell Bore, which waste our wood-lands layd, Whose tusks turn'd vp our Tilths, and Dens in Medowes made: Whose shoulder-blade remaines at Couentry till now; And, at our humble sute, did quell that monstrous Cow The passengers that vs'd from Dunsmore to affright. Of all our English (yet) ô most renowned Knight, That Colebrond ouercam'st: at whose amazing fall The Danes remou'd their Campe from Winchesters sieg'd wall. Thy statue Guy-cliffe keepes, the gazers eye to please; Warwick, thy mighty Armes (thou English Hercules) Thy strong and massy sword, that neuer was controld: Which, as her ancient right, her Castle still shall hold.

Scarce ended they their Song, but Avons winding streame, By Warwick, entertaines the high-complection'd Leame: And as she thence along to Stratford on doth straine, Receiueth little Heile the next into her traine: Then taketh in the Stour, the Brooke, of all the rest Which that most goodly Vale of Red-horse loueth best; A Vally that enioyes a verie great estate, Yet not so famous held as smaller, by her fate: Now, for Report had been too partiall in her praise, Her iust conceiued greefe, faire Red-horse thus bewraies;

Shall euery Vale be heard to boast her wealth? and I, The needie Countries neere that with my Corne supply As brauely as the best, shall onely I endure The dull and beastly world my glories to obscure; Neere way-lesse Ardens side, sith my rety'rd aboad Stood quite out of the way from euery common road? Great Eushams fertill Gleabe, what tongue hath not extold? As though to her alone belongd the * 1.1001 Garbe of Gold. Of Beuers batfull earth, men feeme as though to faine, Reporting in what store shee multiplies her graine: And folke such wondrous things of Alsburie will tell, As though Aboundance stroue her burthened wombe to swell. Her roome amongst the rest, so White-horse is decreed: Shee wants no setting forth: her braue Pegasian Steed (The wonder of the West) exalted to the skies: My Red-horse of you all contemned onely lies. The fault is not in me, but in the wretched time: On whom, vpon good cause, I well may lay the crime: Which as all noble things, so mee it doth neglect. But when th'industrious Muse shall purchase me respect Of Countries neere my site, and win me forraine fame (The Eden of you all deseruedly that am) I shall as much be praysd for delicacie then, As now in small account with vile and barbarous men.

For, from the loftie p 1.1002Edge that on my side doth lye, Vpon my spacious earth who casts a curious eye, As many goodly seates shall in my compasse see, As many sweet delights and rarities in mee As in the greatest Vale: from where my head I couch At Cotswolds Countries foot, till with my heeles I touch The North-hamptonian fields, and fatning Pastures; where * 1.1003I rauish euery eye with my inticing cheere. As still the Yeere growes on, that Ceres once doth load The full Earth with her store; my plentious bosome strow'd With all aboundant sweets: my frim and lustie flanke Her brauery then displayes, with Meadowes hugely ranke. The thick and well-growne fogge doth matt my smoother slades, And on the lower Leas, as on the higher Hades The daintie Clouer growes (of grasse the onely silke) That makes each Vdder strout abundantly with milke.

As an vnlettred man, at the desired sight Of some rare beautie moou'd with infinite delight, * 1.1004Not out of his owne spirit, but by that power diuine, Which through a sparkling eye perspicuously doth shine, Feeles his hard temper yeeld, that hee in passion breakes, And things beyond his height, transported strangely speaks: So those that dwell in mee, and liue by frugall toyle, When they in my defence are reasoning of my soyle, As rapted with my wealth and beauties, learned growe, And in wel-fitting tearmes, and noble language, showe The Lordships in my Lands, from Rolright (which remaines § A witnesse of that day we wonne vpon the Danes) To Tawcester wel-neere: twixt which, they vse to tell Of places which they say doe Rumneys selfe excell. Of Dasset they dare boast, and giue Wormlighten prize, As of that fertill Flat by Bishopton that lies.* 1.1005

For showing of my bounds, if men may rightly ghesse By my continued forme which best doth me expresse, On either of my sides and by the rising grounds, Which in one fashion hold, as my most certaine Mounds, In length neere thirtie miles I am discern'd to bee.

Thus Red-horse ends her tale; and I therewith agree To finish heere my Song: the Muse some ease doth aske, As wearied with the toyle in this her serious taske.

Illustrations.

INto the hart of England and Wales, The Muse here is entred, that is, Warwick∣shire her Natiue Country; whose territory you might call Middle-Engle (for here was that part of Mercland, spoken of in Story) for equality of distance from the inarming Ocean.

By hir Illustrious Earles renowned euery where.

Permit to your selfe credit of those, loaden with Antique fables, as Guy (of whom the Author in the XII. Song, and here presently) Morind and such like, and no more testimony might be giuen, to exceed. But, More sure iustifi∣cation hereof is, in those Great Princes Henry Beauchamp Earle of Warwicke, and * 1.1006 Praecomes Angliae (as the Record call's him) vnder a 1.1007 Hen. VI. and Richard Neuill making it (as it were) his gaine to Crown, and depose Kings in that blou∣dy dissension twixt the White and Red Roses.

That mighty Arden held—

What is now the Woodland in Warwickeshire, was heretofore part of a larger Weald or Forest call'd Arden. The reliques of whose name in Dene of Mon∣mouth Shire, & that Arduenna or La Forest d'Ardenne, by Henault and Luxem∣bourg, shews likelihood of interpretation of the yet vsed English name of Wood∣land. And, whereas, in old inscriptions. b 1.1008 Diana * 1.1009 Nemorensis, with other addi∣tions, hath beene found among the Latines, the like seemes to be exprest in an old Marble, now in Italy, c 1.1010 grauen vnder Domitian, in part thus:
* 1.1011 DIS. MANIBVS.
Q. CAESIVS. Q. F. CLAVD.
ATILIANVS. SACERDOS.
DEANAE. ARDVINNAE.
That comprehensiue largenes which this Arden once extended (before Ruine of her Woods) makes the Author thus limit her with Seuerne and Trent. By reason of this her greatnes ioyn'd with Antiquity, Hee also made choise of this place for description of the Chase, the English simples, and Hermit, as you read in him.

And thither wisely brought that goodly Virgin band.

Sufficient iustification of making a Poem, may be from tradition, which the Author here vses; but see to the VIII. Song, where you haue this incredible number of Virgins, shipt at London, nor skils it much on which you bestow your faith, or if on neither. Their request (as the Genius prayer) are the Authors owne fictions, to come to expresse the worth of his Natiue soiles Citie.

By Leofrique her Lord, yet in base bondage held.

The ensuing Story of this Leofrique and Godiua, was vnder the Confessor. I find it reported in Matthew of Westminster, that * 1.1012 Nuda, equum ascendens, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 capetis & tricas dissoluens corpus suum totum, praeter Crura 〈◊〉〈◊〉, inde vela∣uit.

This Leofrique (buried at Couentry) was Earle of Leicester, not Chester (as some ill tooke it by turning Legecestra, being indeed sometimes for Chester, of old call'd Vrbs Legionum, as to the XI. Song already) which is without scru∣ple shew'd in a d 1.1013 Charter, of the Mannor of Spalding in Lincolneshire, made to Wulgat Abbot of Crowland, beginning thus: Ego Thoroldus De Buckenhale co∣rā Nobilissimo Domino meo Leofrico Comite Leicestriae, & Nobilissima Comitis∣sa sua Domina Godiua sorore mea, & cum confensu & bona voluntate Domini & Cognati mei Comitis Algari primogeniti & Haeredis eorum, donaui, &c. This Algar succeeded him; and, as a speciall title, Gouernment, & honor, this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was therin among the Saxons so singular, that it was hereditary with ave∣ry long pedegree, til the Conquest, from K. Ethelbalds time, aboue CCC. years. In Malmesbury, he is stiled Earle of Hereford; and indeed, as it seemes, had large * 1.1014 dominion ouer most part of Mercland, and was a great Protector of good K. Edward, from ambitious Godwins faction. You may note in him, what power the Earles of those times had for granting, releasing, or imposing liberties and exactions, which since onely the Crowne hath, as vnseparably, annext to it. Nay, since the Normans, I finde that e 1.1015 William Fitz-Osbern, Earle of Hereford, made a law in his County, * 1.1016 vt Nullus miles pro qualicúnq, commisso plus septem so∣lidis soluat, which was obseru'd without Controuersie, in Malmesburies time; and I haue seene originall letters of Protection (a perfect and vncommunica∣ble power Royall) by that great Prince Richard Earle of Poiters and Cornewall, brother to Hen. III. sent to the Shirif of Rutland, for & in behalf of a Nonnery a∣bout Stanford: and it is well knowne, that his successor Edmund left no small tokens of such supremacie in Constitutions liberties, and impos'd Subsi∣dies in the Stannaries of Connewall; with more such like extant in Monuments. But whatsoeuer their power heretofore was, I thinke, it then ceased with that f 1.1017 custome of their hauing the third part of the Kings profit in the County, which was also in the Saxon timesvsuall, as appeares in that; g 1.1018 In Ipswich Regi∣na Edeua II. partes habuit & Comes Guert tertiam; Norwich reddebat X X. libras Regi, & Comiti X. libras: Ofthe Borough of 〈◊〉〈◊〉; its profits erant II. partes Regis, tertia Comitis; & Oxford reddebat Regi XX. libras, & sex sextarios mellis, * 1.1019 Comitiverò Algaro X. libras. Andvnder K. Iohn, Geffrey Fitz-Peeter, Earle of Essex, and William le Marshall Earle of Striguil, * 1.1020 Administrationem suorum * 1.1021 Comitatuum habebant, saith Houeden. But Time hath, with other parts of Go∣uernment, altered all this to what we nowvse.

A witnes of that day we won vpon the Danes.

He meanes Rollritch stones in the Confines of Warwicke and Oxfordshire; of which the vulgar there haue a fabulous tradition, that they are an army of Men, and I know not what Great Generall amongst them, conuerted into Stones: a tale not hauing his superior in the ranke ofvntruth's. But (vpon the * 1.1022 conceit of a most learned Man) the Muse refers it to some battel of the Danes, about time of Rollo's Piracie and incutsion, and for her Country takes the bet∣ter side (as iustifiable as the contrary) in affirming the day to the English. But, to suppose this a Monument of that battell, fought at Hochnorton, seemes to me in matter of certainty, not very probable: I meane, being drawne from Rollo's name: of whose Story, both for a passage in the last Song, and here, permit a short examination. The Norman h 1.1023 tradition is, that he, with diuers other Danes transplanting themselues, as well for dissension twixt him and his King, * 1.1024 as for new seat of habitation, arriu'd here, had some skirmishes with the English, defending their territories; and soon afterward being admonisht in a Dreame, aided and aduised by K. Athelstan, entred 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in France; wasted and won part

of it about Paris, Baieux, elsewhere; returned vpon request by Embassage to assist the English King against Rebels; and afterward in the year DCCCC. XI. or XII. receiu'd his Dukedom of Normandy, & Christianity, his name of Robert, with AEgidia or Gilla (for wife) daughter to Charles, surnamed the Simple; as to the IV. Song I haue, according to the credit of the Story, toucht it. But how came such habitude twixt Athelstan and him, before this DCCCC.XII. when as it is plain, that Athelstan was not King till DCCCC.XXIV. orneere that point? Neither is any concordance twixt Athelstan and this Charles. whose Kingdome was taken from him by Rodulph D. of Burgunay, II. yeares before our K. Edward I. (of the Saxons) died. In the ninth yeare of whose raigne, falling vnder DCCCC.VI. was that battell of Hochnorton; so that, vnles the name of Athel∣stin be mistook for this Edward, or, be wanting to the Dominicall year of those XXII. of the `Dionysian calculation (whereof to the IV. Song) I see no meanes to make their Storie stand with it selfe, nor our Monkes; in whom (most of them writing about the Norman times) more mention would haue beene of Rollo, Ancester to the Conqueror, and his acts here, had they knowne any certainty of his name or warres: which I rather guesse to haue beene in our Maritime parts then Inlands, vnles when (if that were at all) he assisted K. Athelstan. Read Frodoard, and the old Annals of France, written neerer the supposed times, and you will scarce find him to haue beene, or else therevnder i 1.1025 some other name; as Godfrey, which some haue contectur'd, to be the same with Rollo. You may seein AEmilius what vncertainties, if not contrarieties, were, in Norman tradi∣tions of this matter; and, I make no question, but of that vnknowne Nation so much mistaking hath beene of names and times, that scarce any vndoubted truth therein now can iustifie itselfe. For, obserue but what is here deliuered, and compare it with k 1.1026 them which say in DCCC.XCVIII. Rollo was ouerthrown at Chartres by Richard Duke of Burgundy, and Ebal Earle of Poiters, assisting Walzelm Bishop of that Citie; &, my question is, Where haue you hope of Re∣conciliation? Except only in Equiuocation of name; for plainely Hastings, Godfrey, Hrornc and others (if none of these were the same) all Danes, had to do and that with Dominion in France about this age; wherein it is further re¦ported, that m 1.1027 Robert Earle of Paris, and in some sort a King twixt Charles and Rodulpb, gaue to certaine Normans that had entred the Land at Loire (they first n 1.1028 entredthere in clo. CCC. LIII.) all Little Bretagne and Nants, and this in DCCCC.XXII. which agrees, with that gift of the same tract to Rollo by Charles, little better then harshest discords. And so doth that of Rollo's being aided by the English King, and in league with him against the French, with another receiued truth: which is, that Charles was (by marriage with * 1.1029 Edgith of the English Kings Ioines) sonne in lawto Edward, and brother inlaw to Athelstan, in whose o 1.1030 protection here Lewes (afterward the IV.) was, while Roldulph of Burgundy held the Crowne. For that vnmannerly ho∣mage also, spoken of to the IV. Song by one of Rollo's Knights, it is repotted by Malmesbury and others, to be done by Rollo himselfe; and, touching that Egidia wife to Rollo, the iudicious French Historiographer P. Emilius (from who the Italian Polydore had many odde pieces of his best context) tels cleerly, that she was daughter to Lothar K. of Romans, and giuen by his cozen Charles the Grosse, to Godfrey King of Normans, with Westrich (that is Neustria) about DCCC.LXXX.VI and imagines that the Norman Historians were deceiued by equiuocation of name, mistaking Charles the Simple for Charles the Grosse, liuing neere onetime; as also that they finding Egidia a Kings daughter (be∣ing indeed Lothar's) supposed her Charles the Simple's. This makes me thinke also that of Godfrey and Rollo, hath beene like confusion of name. But both

Times, Raignes and Persons are so disturbed in the Stories, that being insuffi∣cient to rectifie the Contrarieties, I leaue you to the liberty of common report.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The fourteenth Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

Her sundry straines the Muse to 〈◊〉〈◊〉, New sings of homely Country loue; What moane th'old Heardsman Clent doth make, For his coy Wood-Nymph Feckn'hams sake; And, how the Nymphs each other greet, When Avon and braue Severne meet. The Vale of Eusham then doth tell, How farre the Vales doe Hills excell. Ascending, next, faire Cotswolds Plaines, Shee reuels with the Shepheards swaines; And sends the daintie Nymphes away, Gainst Tame and Isis Wedding day.

AT length, attain'd those Lands that South of Severne lye, As to the varying Earth the Muse doth her apply, Poore Sheep hook and plaine Goad, she many times doth Then in a Buskind strain she instantly doth bound. (sound: Smooth as the lowly streame, shee softly now doth glide: And with the Mountaines straight contendeth in her pride. Now back againe I turne, the Land with mee to take, From the Stafsordian heaths as * 1.1031 Stour her course doth make. Which Clent, from his proud top, contentedly doth view: But yet the aged Hill, immoderatly doth rew His loued Feckn'hams fall, and doth her state bemoane; To please his amorous eye, whose like the world had none. For, from her very youth, he (then an aged Hill) Had to that Forrest-Nymph a speciall lyking still: The least regard of him who neuer seemes to take, But suffreth in her selfe for Salwarp's onely sake; And on that Riuer doats, as much as Clent on her.

Now, when the Hill perceiu'd, the Flood she would prefer, All pleasure he forsakes; that at the full-bagd Cow, Or at the curle-fac't Bull, when venting he doth low, Or at th'vnhappy wags, which let their Cattell stray, At Nine-holes on the heath whilst they together play,

He neuer seemes to smile; nor euer taketh keepe To heare the harmlesse Swaine pype to his grazing sheepe: Nor to the Carters tune, in whistling to his Teame; Nor lends his listning eare (once) to the ambling Streame, That in the euening calme against the stones doth rush With such a murmuring noyse, as it would seeme to hush The silent Meads asleepe; but, voyd of all delight, Remedilesly drown'd in sorrow day and night, Nor Licky his Allie and neighbour doth respect: And there with beeing charg'd, thus answereth in effect; That d 1.1032 Lickey to his height seem'd slowly but to rise, And that in length and bredth he all extended lyes, Nor doth like other hills to suddaine sharpnesse mount, That of their kingly kind they scarce can him account; Though by his swelling soyle set in so high a place, That Malverns mightie selfe he seemeth to out-face.

Whilst Clent and Licky thus, doe both expresse their pride, As Salwarpe slips along by Feck'nhams shady side, * 1.1033 That Forrest him affects in wandring to the Wych: But he, himselfe by Salts there seeking to enrich, His Feck'nbam quite forgets; from all affection free.

But she, that to the Flood most constant meanes to be, More prodigally giues her woods to those strong fires Which boyle the source to Salts. Which Clent so much admires, That loue, and her disdaine, to madness him prouoke: When to the Wood-Nymph thus the iealous Mountaine spoke;

Fond Nymph, thy twisted curles, on which were all my care, Thou lett'st the Furnace waste; that miserably bare I hope to see thee left, which so doost mee despise; VVhose beauties many a morne haue blest my longing eyes: And, till the wearie Sunne sunk downe vnto the VVest, Thou still my obiect wast, thou once my onely best. The time shall quickly come, thy Groues and pleasant Springs, VVhere to the mirthfull Merle the warbling Mavis sings, The painfull laborers hand shall stock the roots, to burne; The branch and body spent, yet could not serue his turne. Which when, most wilfull Nymph, thy chaunce shal be to see, Too late thou shalt repent thy small regard of mee.

But Saltwarpe downe from Wyche his nimbler feet doth ply, Great Severne to attend, along to Teuksbury, With others to partake the ioy that there is seene, When beautious Avon comes vnto her soueraigne e 1.1034 Queene. Heere downe from Eushams Vale, their greatnesse to attend, Comes Swilliat sweeping in, which Cotswold downe doth send: And Garran there arriues, the great recourse to see. Where thus together met, with most delightfull glee,

The cheerfull Nymphs that haunt the Valley rank and lowe (Where full Pomona seemes most plentiously to flowe, And with her fruitery swells by Pershore, in her pride) Amongst the batfull Meads on Severns either side, To these their confluent Floods, full Boaules of Pery brought: Where, to each others health past many a deep-fetcht draught, And many a sound Carouse from friend to friend doth goe. Thus whilst the mellowed Earth with her owne iuice doth flowe, Inflamed with excesse the lustie pampred Vale, In praise of her great selfe, thus frames her glorious tale;

I doubt not but some Vale enough for vs hath said, To answer them that most with basenesse vs vpbray'd; Those high presumptuous Hills, which bend their vtmost might, Vs onely to deiect, in their inveterate spight: But I would haue them thinke, that I (which am the Queene Of all the British Vales, and so haue euer beene Since Gomers Giant-brood inhabited this Ile, And that of all the rest, my selfe may so enstile) Against the highest Hill dare put my selfe for place, That euer threatned Heauen with the austerest face. And for our praise, then thus; What Fountaine send they forth (That finds a Riuers name, though of the smallest worth) But it invales it selfe, and on it either side Doth make those fruitfull Meads, which with their painted pride Imbroader his proud Banke? whilst in lasciuious Gyres He swiftly sallieth out, and suddainly retyres In sundry works and trailes, now shallowe, and then deepe, Searching the spacious shores, as though it meant to sweepe Their sweets with it away, with which they are repleat. And men, first building Townes, themselues did wisely seat Still in the bountious Vale: whose burthened Pasture beares The most aboundant swathe, whose Gleabe such goodly cares, As to the weightie sheafe with sythe or sickle cut, When as his hardned hand the Labourer comes to put, Sinks him in his owne sweat, which it but hardly wields: And on the Corne-strew'd Lands, then in the stubble fields, There feed the Heards of Neat, by them the Flocks of Sheep, Seeking the scatt'red Corne vpon the ridges steepe: And in the furrowe by (where Ceres lyes much spild) Th'vnweldy larding Swine his mawe then hauing fild, Lies wallowing in the myre, thence able scarce to rise. When as those monstrous Hills so much that vs despise (The Mountaine, which forsooth the lowly Valley mocks) Haue nothing in the world vpon their barren Rocks, But greedy clambring Goats, and Conies, banisht quite From euery fertill place; as Rascals, that delight

In base and barren plots, and at good earth repine. And though in Winter we to moysture much incline, Yet those that be our owne, and dwell vpon our Land, When twixt their burly Stacks, and full-stuft Barnes they stand, Into the softer Clay as easely they doe sinke, Pluck vp their heauie feet, with lighter spirits, to thinke That Autumne shall produce, to recompence their toyle, A rich and goodly croppe from that vnpleasant soyle. And from that envious Foe which seekes vs to depraue, Though much against his will this good we cleerly haue, We still are highly prais'd, and honor'd by his hight. For, who will vs survey, their cleere and iudging sight May see vs thence at full: which else the searchingst eye, By reason that so flat and leuelled we lie, Could neuer throughly view, our selues nor could we showe.

Yet more; what lofty Hills to humble Valleys owe, And what high grace they haue which neere to vs are plac't, In * 1.1035 Breedon may be seene, beeing amorously imbrac't In cincture of mine armes. Who though he doe not vaunt His head like those that looke as they would Heauen supplant: Yet let them wisely note, in what excessiue pride He in my bosome sits; while him on euery side With my delicious sweets and delicates I trym. And when great Malvern looks most terrible and grym, Hee with a pleased brow continually doth smile.

Heere Breedon, hauing heard his praises all the while, Grew insolently proud; and doth vpon him take Such state, as he would seeme but small account to make Of Malvern, or of Mein. So that the wiser Vale, To his instruction turnes the processe of her tale. T'avoyd the greaters wrath, and shunne the meaners hate, Quoth shee, take my advice, abandon idle state; And by that way I goe, doe thou thy course contriue: Giue others leaue to vaunt, and let vs closely thriue. Whilst idly but for place the loftie Mountaines toyle, Let vs haue store of graine, and quantity of soyle. To what end serue their tops (that seeme to threat the skie) But to be rent with stormes? whilst we in safety lie. Their Rocks but barren be, and they which rashly clime, Stand most in Envies sight, the fairest prey for Time. And when the lowely Vales are clad in Sommers greene, The grisled Winters snowe vpon their heads is seene. Of all the Hills I knowe, let Mein thy patterne bee: Who though his site be such as seemes to equall thee, And destitute of nought that Arden him can yeeld; Nor of th'especiall grace of many a goodly field;

Nor of deere Cliffords seat (the place of health and sport) Which many a time hath been the Muses quiet Port. Yet brags not he of that, nor of himselfe esteemes The more for his faire site; but richer then he seemes, Clad in a gowne of Grasse, so soft and wondrous warme, As him the Sommers heat, nor Winters cold can harme. Of whom I well may say, as I may speake of thee; From either of your tops, that who beholdeth mee, To Paradise may thinke a second hee had found, If any like the first were euer on the ground.

Her long and zealous speech thus Eusham doth conclude: When straight the actiue Muse industriously pursu'd This noble Countries praise, as matter still did rise. For Gloster in times past her selfe did highly prize, When in her pride of strength she nourisht goodly Vines, § And oft her cares represt with her delicious Wines. But, now th'All-cheering Sun the colder soyle deceaues, § And vs (heere tow'rds the Pole) still falling South-ward leaues: So that the sullen earth th'effect thereof doth proue; According to their Books, who hold that he doth moue From his first Zeniths poynt; the cause we feele his want. But of her Vines depriu'd, now Gloster learnes to plant The Peare-tree euery where: whose fruit shee straines for iuce, That her pur'st Pery is, which first shee did produce From Worstershire, and there is common as the fields; Which naturally that soyle in most aboundance yeelds.

But the laborious Muse, which still new worke affaies, Here sallyeth through the slades, where beautious Severne playes, Vntill that Riuer gets her Glosters wished sight: Where, she her streame divides, that with the more delight Shee might behold the Towne, of which shee's wondrous proud: Then takes shee in the Frome, then Cam, and next the Strowd, As thence vpon her course she wantonly doth straine. Supposing then her selfe a Sea-god by her traine, Shee Neptune-like doth float vpon the bracky Marsh. Where, least shee should become too combersome and harsh, Faire Micklewood (a Nymph, long honor'd for a Chase, Contending to haue stood the high'st in Severns grace, Of any of the Dryad's there bordring on her shore) With her coole amorous shades, and all her Sylvan store, To please the goodly Flood imployes her vtmost powers, Supposing the proud Nymph might like her woody Bowers.

But Severne (on her way) so large and head-strong grew, That shee the Wood-Nymph scornes, and Avon doth pursue; A Riuer with no lesse then goodly Kings-wood crown'd, A Forrest and a Flood by eithers fame renown'd;

And each with others pride and beautie much bewitcht; Besides, with Bristowes state both wondrously enricht. Which soone to Severne sent th'report of that faire Road (So burthened still with Barks, as it would ouer-load * 1.1036 Great Neptune with the weight) whose fame so farre doth ring. When as that mightie Flood, most brauely florishing, Like Thetis goodlie selfe, maiestically glides; Vpon her spacious breast tossing the surgefull Tydes, To haue the Riuer see the state to which shee growes, And how much to her Queene the beautious Avon owes.

But, noble Muse, proceed immediatly to tell How Eushams fertile Vale at first in liking fell With Cotswold, that great King of Shepheards: whose proud site When that faire Vale first saw, so nourisht her delight, That him she onely lov'd: for wisely shee beheld The beauties cleane throughout that on his sur-face dweld: Of iust and equall height two banks arising, which * 1.1037 Grew poore (as it should seeme) to make some Valley rich: Bet wixt them thrusting out an Elbowe of such height, As shrowds the lower soyle; which, shadowed from the light, Shootes forth a little Groue, that in the Sommers day Invites the Flocks, for shade that to the Couert stray. A Hill there holds his head, as though it told a tale, Or stooped to looke downe, or whisper with a Vale; Where little purling winds like wantons seeme to dally, And skip from Bank to Banke, from Valley trip to Valley. Such sundry shapes of soyle where Nature doth deuise, That she may rather seeme fantasticall, then wise.

T'whom Sarum's Plaine giues place: though famous for her Flocks, Yet hardly doth she tythe our Cotswolds wealthy locks. Though Lemster him exceed for finenesse of her ore, Yet quite he puts her downe for his aboundant store. A match so fit as hee, contenting to her mind, Few Vales (as I suppose) like Eusham hapt to find: Nor any other Wold, like Cotswold euer sped, So faire and rich a Vale by fortuning to wed. Hee hath the goodly Wooll, and shee the wealthy Graine: Through which they wisely seeme their houshold to maintaine. He hath pure wholesome Ayre, and daintie crystall Springs. To those delights of his, shee daily profit brings: As to his large expense, she multiplies her heapes: Nor can his Flocks deuour th'aboundance that shee reaps; As th'one with what it hath, the other stroue to grace.

And, now that euery thing may in the proper place Most aptly be contriu'd, the Sheepe our Wold doth breed (The simplest though it seeme) shall our description need,

And Shepheard-like, the Muse thus of that kind doth speak; No browne, nor sullyed black the face or legs doth streak, Like those of Moreland, Cank, or of the Cambrian hills That lightly laden are: but Cotswold wisely fills Her with the whitest kind: whose browes so woolly be, As men in her faire Sheepe no emptiness should see. The Staple deepe and thick, through, to the very graine, Most strongly keepeth out the violentest raine: A body long and large, the buttocks equall broad; As fit to vnder-goe the full and weightie load. And of the fleecie face, the flanke doth nothing lack, But euery-where is stor'd; the belly, as the back. The faire and goodly Flock, the Shepheards onely pride, As white as Winters snowe, when from the Riuers side He driues his new-washt Sheepe; or on the Sheering day, When as the lusty Ram, with those rich spoyles of May His crooked hornes hath crown'd; the Bell-weather, so braue As none in all the Flock they like themselues would haue.

But Muse, returne to tell, how there the Sheepheards King, Whose Flock hath chanc't that yeere the earliest Lambe to bring, In his gay Bauldrick sits at his lowe grassie Bord, With Flawns, Curds, Clowted-creame, and Country dainties stor'd: And, whilst the Bag-pipe playes, each lustie iocund Swaine Quaffes Sillibubs in Kans, to all vpon the Plaine, And to their Country-Girles, whose Nosegayes they doe weare. Some Roundelayes doe sing: the rest, the burthen beare.

But Cotswold, be this spoke to th'onely praise of thee, * 1.1038 That thou of all the rest, the chosen soyle should'st bee, Faire Isis to bring-forth (the Mother of great Tames) With those delicious Brooks, by whose immortall streames Her greatnesse is begunne: so that our Riuers King, When he his long Descent shall from his Bel-sires bring, Must needs (Great Pastures Prince) deriue his stem by thee, From kingly Cotswolds selfe, sprung of the third degree: As th'old worlds Heroës wont, that in the times of yore, On Neptune, Ioue, and Mars, themselues so highly bore.

But easely from her source as Isis gently dades; Vnto her present ayde, downe through the deeper slades, The nimbler footed Churne, by Cisseter doth slide; And first at Greeklade gets preheminence, to guide Queene Isis on her way, ere shee receiue her traine. Cleere Colne, and liuely Leech, so downe from Cotswolds Plaine, At Leechlade linking hands, cóme likewise to support The Mother of great Tames. When, seeing the resort, From Cotswold Windrusb scowres; and with her selfe doth cast The Traine to ouer-take, and therefore hies her fast

Through the Oxfordian fields; when (as the last of all Those Floods, that into Tames out of our Cotswold fall, And farth'st vnto the North) bright Enload forth doth beare. For, though it had been long, at length she came to heare That Isis was to Iame in wedlock to be ti'd: And therefore shee prepar'd t'attend vpon the Bride; Expecting, at the Feast, past ordinarie grace.

And beeing neere of kinne to that most Spring-full place, Where out of Blockleys banks so many Fountaines flowe, That cleane throughout his soyle proud Cotswold cannot showe The like: as though from farre, his long and many Hills, There emptied all their vaines, where with those Founts hee fills, Which in the greatest drought so brimfull still doe float, Sent through the rifted Rocks with such an open throat, As though the Cleeues consum'd in humor; they alone, So crystalline and cold, as hardneth stick to stone.

But whilst this while we talke, the farre divulged fame Of this great Bridale tow'rd, in Phoehus mightie name Doth bid the Muse make haste, and to the Bride-house speed; Of her attendance there least they should stand in need.

Jllustrations.

SOmewhat returning now neere the way you descended from the Northern parts, the Muse leades you through that part of Worcestershire, which is on this side Seuerne, and the neighbouring Stafford, viewing also Cotteswold, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Glocester. The fictions of this Song are not so couuert, nor the allusions so difficult, but that I presume your conceit, for the most part, willingly dis∣charges my labour.

And of her cares represt with her delicious wines.

In this tract of Glocestershire (where to this day many places are stiled Vine∣yards) was of ancient time among other fruits of a fertile soile, great store of Vines and more then in any other place of the Kingdom. Now in many parts of this Realme we haue some: but what comes of them in the Presse is scarce worth respect. Long since, the Emperour a 1.1039 Probus * 1.1040 Gallis omnibus & Hispanis ac Britannis permisit vt vites haberent vinúmq, conficerent: But b 1.1041 Tacitus, before that, speaking of this Island commends it with * 1.1042 Solum praeter Oleam vitémq, & caetera calidioribus terris oririsueta, Datiens frugum; foecundum. Long since Pro∣bus, England had its Vineyards also & some store of Wine, as appears by that in Domesday, * 1.1043 Vnus & Parcus & CI. Arpenni Vineae (that is between V. and VI. Acres; Arpent in French signifying a Content 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ground of C Rods square, e∣uery Rod XVIII. foot) & reddit XX. modios vnt sibenè procedit, being recorded of a place c 1.1044 by Ralegh in Essex. This was vnder William I: and since him in time of Hen. I. d 1.1045 much Wine was made here in Glocestershire. That now the Isle enioyes not frequencie of this benefit, as in old time, whether it be through the soiles old age, and so like a woman growing sterile (as e 1.1046 in another kind

Tremellius many hundred yeares since thought) or by reason of the earths change of place, as vpon difference in Astronomicall obseruations Stadius guest, or that some part of singular influence, whereon Astrologie hangs most of inferior qualities, is alter'd by that slow course (yet of great power in alte∣ration of Heauens System) of the eight Sphere (or 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of the AEquino¦ctiall) or by reason of industry wanting in the Husbandman, I leaue it to others examination.

—still falling Southward leaues.

He alludes to the difference of the Zodiaques obliquity from what it was of old. For, in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 time about 〈◊〉〈◊〉 CD.LX. yeares since the vtmost De¦clination of the Sunne in the I. of Cance (where she is neerest to our Verticall point) was XXIII. Gr. and about LII. Minut. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that. Albategin (about Char∣lemaines * 1.1047 time) obserued it some XV. Scruples lesse: after him (neere 〈◊〉〈◊〉. of Christ) Arzacheld found it XXIII. Gr. XXXIV. Scr. and in this later age ohn 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Comtgs-burg and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 brought it to XXIII. Gr. XXVIII. Scrup which concords also with the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 accompt, and as many as thence traduce their Ephemerides. So that (by this calculation) 〈◊〉〈◊〉 XXIIII Minuts 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Sunne comes not now so neere our Zenith, as it did in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 time. But in truth (for in these things I accompt that truth, which is warranted by most accurat Obseruation; and those learned Mathematicians, by omitting of Pa∣ralax and Refractions, deceiued themselues and posterity) the declination in this age is XXIII. Gr. XXXI. Scrup. and ½ as that Noble Dane, and most Ho∣nor'd Restorer of Astronomical Motions, Tycho Brahe, hath taught vs: which, although it be greater then that of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and his followers; yet is much lesse then what is in Ptolome; and by two Scruples different from Arzachels, so iustifying the Authors conceipt, supposing the cause of our Climats not now producing Wines, to be the Sunnes declination from vs, which for euery Scru∣ple answers in earth, about one of our Miles; but a farre more large distance in the Celestiall Globe. I can as well maintaine this high-fetcht cause, being vp∣pon difference of so few Minuts in one of the slowest motions (and we see that greatest effects are alwayes attributed to them, as vpon the old conceit of the Platonique yeare, abridged into neere his halfe by Copernicus, those conse∣quents foretold vpon the change of f 1.1048 E'ccentriques out of one signe into an other, the Equinoctiall praecession, and such like; as others may their con∣uersion of a Planets state into Fortunat, Opprest or Combust, by measuring or missing their XVI. Scruples of Cazimi, their 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and such curionties. Neyther can you salue the effect of this declination, by the Sunnes much neerer approach to the earth, vpon that decrease of his Eccentricity which Copernicus and his followers haue published. For, admitting that were true, vet iudiciall Astrologie relies more vpon Aspect and beames falling on vs with Angles (which are much altered by this change of Obliquity in the Zo∣draque) then distance of euery singular starre from the Earth. But indeede, vpon mistaking the Poles altitude, and other error in Obseruation, * 1.1049 Coperni∣cus was deceiu'd, and in this present age the Sunnes Eccentricity (in Ptolemy, being the XXIV. of the Eccentriques semidiameter, diuided into LX) hath beene g 1.1050 found betweene the XXVII. and XXVIII. P. which is farre greater 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that in Copernicus, erroniously making it but neere the XXXI. But this is too heauenly a language for the common Reader; and perhaps too late I leaue it.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The fifteenth Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

The guests heere to the Bride-house hie. The goodly Vale of Al'sbury Sets her sonne (Tame) forth, braue as May, Vpon the ioyfull Wedding day: Who, deckt vp, tow'rds his Bride is gone. So louely Isis comming on, At Oxford all the Muses meet her, And with a Prothalamion greet her. The Nymphs are in the Bridall Bowres, Some strowing sweets, some sorting flowres: Where lustie Charwell himselfe raises, And sings of Riuers, and their praises. Then Tames his way tow'rd Windsore tends. Thus, with the Song, the Mariage ends.

NOw Fame had through this Ile divulg'd, in euery eare, The long-expected day of Mariage to be neere, * 1.1051 That Isis, Cotswolds heire, long woo'd was lastly wonne, And instantly should wed with Tame, old Chiltern's sonne. And now that Wood-mans wife, the mother of the Flood, The rich and goodly Vale of Alsbury, that stood So much vpon her Tame, was busied in her Bowres, Preparing for her sonne, as many sutes of Flowres, As Cotswold for the Bride, his Isis, lately made; Who for the louely Tame, her Bridegroome, onely staid.

Whilst euery crystall Flood is to this business prest, The cause of their great speed and many thus request; O! whither goe yee Floods? what suddaine wind doth blowe, Then other of your kind, that you so fast should flowe? What busines is in hand, that spurres you thus away? Faire Windrush let me heare, I pray thee Charwell say: They suddainly reply, What lets you should not see That for this Nuptiall feast wee all prepared bee? Therefore this idle chat our eares doth but offend: Our leysure serues not now these trifles to attend.

But whilst things are in hand, old Chiltern (for his life) From prodigall expense can no way keepe his wife; Who feedes her Tame with Marle, in Cordiall-wise prepar'd, And thinks all idly spent, that now she onely spar'd In setting forth her sonne: nor can shee thinke it well, Vnlesse her lauish charge doe Cotswold's farre excell. For, Alsbury's a Vale that walloweth in her wealth, * 1.1052 And (by her wholesome ay re continually in health) Is lustie, frim, and fat, and holds her youthfull strength. Besides her fruitfull earth, her mightie breadth and length, Doth Chiltern fitly match: which mountainously hie, And beeing very long, so likewise shee doth lie; From the Bedfordian fields, where first she doth begin, To fashion like a Vale, to th'place where Tame doth win His Isis wished Bed; her soyle throughout so sure, For goodnesse of her Gleabe, and for her Pasture pure, That as her Graine and Grasse, so shee her Sheepe doth breed, For burthen and for boane all other that exceed: And shee, which thus in wealth aboundantly doth flowe, Now cares not on her Child what cost shee doe bestowe. Which when wise Chiltern saw (the world who long had try'd, * 1.1053 And now at last had layd all garish pompe aside; Whose hoare and chalkie head discry'd him to be old, His Beechen woods berest that kept him from the cold) Would faine perswade the Vale to hold a steddy rate; And with his curious Wife, thus wisely doth debate:

Quoth hee, you might allow what needeth, to the most: But where as lesse will serue, what meanes this idle cost? Too much, a surfet breeds, and may our Child annoy: These fat and lushious meats doe but our stomacks cloy. The modest comly meane, in all things likes the wise, Apparrell often shewes vs womanish precise. And what will Cotswold thinke when he shall heare of this? Hee'll rather blame your waste, then praise your cost iwiss.

But, women wilfull be, and shee her will must haue, Nor cares how Chiltern chides, so that her Tame be braue. Alone which tow'rds his Loue shee easely doth convay: For the Oxonian Ouze was lately sent away * 1.1054 From Buckingham, where first he finds his nimbler feet; Tow'rds Whittlewood then takes: where, past the noblest * 1.1055 Street, Hee to the Forrest giues his farewell, and doth keepe His course directly downe into the German Deepe, To publish that great day in mightie Neptunes Hall, That all the Sea-gods there might keep it festiuall.

As wee haue told how Tame holds on his euen course, Returne we to report, how Isis from her sourse

Comes tripping with delight, downe from her daintier Springs; And in her princely traine, t'attend her Marriage, brings Cleere Churnet, Colne, and Leech, which first she did retaine, * 1.1056 With Windrush: and with her (all out-rage to restraine Which well might offred be to Isis as shee went) Came Yenload with a guard of Satyres, which were sent From Whichwood, to await the bright and God-like Dame. So, Bernwood did bequeath his Satyres to the Tame, For Sticklers in those stirres that at the Feast should bee.

These preparations great when Charwell comes to see, To Oxford got before, to entertaine the Flood, Apollo's ayde he begs, with all his sacred brood, To that most learned place to welcome her repaire. Who in her comming on, was wext so wondrous faire, That meeting, strife arose betwixt them, whether they Her beauty should extoll, or shee admire their p 1.1057 Bay. On whom their seuerall gifts (to amplifie her dowre) The Muses there bestowe; which euer haue the power Immortall her to make. And as shee pastalong, Those modest q 1.1058 Thespian Maids thus to their Isis song;

Yee Daughters of the Hills, come downe from euery side, And dueattendance giue vpon the louely Bride: Goe strewe the paths with flowers by which shee is to pafse. For be yee thus assur'd, in Albion neuer was A beautie (yet) like hers: where haue yee euer seene So absolute a Nymph in all things, for a Queene? Giue instantly in charge the day be wondrous faire, That no disorderd blast attempt her braided haire. Goe, see her State prepar'd, and euery thing be fit, The Bride-chamber adorn'd with all beseeming it. And for the princely Groome, who euer yet could name A Flood that is so fit for Isis as the Tame? Yee both so louely are, that knowledge scarce can tell, For feature whether hee, or beautie shee excell: That rauished with ioy each other to behold, When as your crystall wasts you closely doe enfold, Betwixt your beautious selues you shall beget a Sonne, That when your liues shall end, in him shall be begunne. The pleasant Surryan shores shall in that Flood delight, And Kent esteeme her selfe most happy in his sight. The Shire that London loues, shall onely him prefer, And giue full many a gift to hold him neer to her. The r 1.1059 Skeld, the goodly Mose, the rich and Viny Rheine, Shall come to meet the Thames in Neptunes watry Plaine. And all the Belgian Streames and neighboring Floods of Gaul, Of him shall stand in awe, his tributaries all.

As of fayre Isis thus, the learned Virgins spake, A shrill and suddaine brute this h 1.1060 Prothalamion brake; That White-horse, for the loue she bare to her Ally, And honored sister Vale, the bountious Alsbury, Sent Presents to the Tame by Ock her onely Flood, Which for his Mother Vale, so much on greatnesse stood.

From Oxford, Isis hasts more speedily, to see That Riuer like his birth might entertained bee: For, that ambitious Vale, still striuing to commaund, And vsing for her place continually to stand, Proud White-horse to perswade, much busines there hath been T'acknowledge that great Vale of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 for her Queen. And but that Eusham is so opulent and great, That thereby shee herselfe holds in the soueraigne seat, This i 1.1061 White-horse all the Vales of Britaine would or'ebeare, And absolutely sit in the imperiall Chaire; And boasts as goodly Heards, and numerous Flocks to seed; To haue as soft a Gleabe, as good increase of seed; As pure and fresh an ay re vpon her face to flowe, As Eusham for her life: and from her Steed doth showe, Her lustie rising Downes, as faire a prospect take As that imperious * 1.1062 Wold: which her great Queene doth make So wondrously admyr'd, and her so farre extend. But, to the Mariage, hence, industrious Muse descend.

The Naïads, and the Nymphs extreamly ouer-ioy'd, And on the winding banks all busily imploy'd, Vpon this ioyfull day, some dainty Chaplets twine: Some others chosen out, with fingers neat and fine, Braue k 1.1063 Anadems doe make: some Bauldricks vp do bind: Some, Garlands: and to some, the Nosegaies were assign'd; As best their skill did serue. But, for that Tame should be Still man-like as him selfe, therefore they will that he Should not be 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with Flowers, to Gardens that belong (His Bride that better fitte) but onely such as sprong * 1.1064 From the replenisht Meads, and fruitfull Pastures neere. To sort which Flowers, some sit; some making Garlands were; The Primrose placing first, because that in the Spring It is the first appeares, then onely florishing; The azur'd Hare-bell next, with them, they neatly mixt: T'allay whose lushious smell, they Woodbind plac't betwixt. Amongst those things of sent, there prick they in the Lilly: And neere to that againe, her sister Daffadilly. To sort these Flowers of showe, with th'other that were sweet, The Cowslip then they couch, and th'Oxslip, for her meet: The Columbine amongst they sparingly doe set, The yellow King-cup, wrought in many a curious fret,

And now and then among, of Eglantine a spray, By which againe a course of Lady-smocks they lay: The Crow flower, and there-by the Clouer-flower they stick, The Daysie, ouer all those sundry sweets so thick, As Nature doth her selfe; to imitate her right: Who seems in that her * pearle so greatly to delight, That euery Plaine therewith she powdreth to beholde: * 1.1065 The crimsin Darnell Flower, the Blew-bottle, and Gold: Which though esteem'd but weeds; yet for their dainty hewes, And for their sent not ill, they for this purpose chuse.

Thus hauing told you how the Bridegroome Tame was drest, Ile shew you, how the Bride, faire Isis, they invest; Sitting to be attyr'd vnder her Bower of State, Which scornes a meaner sort, then fits a Princely rate. In * Anadems for whom they curiously dispose The Red, the dainty White, the goodly Damask Rose, For the rich Ruby, Pearle, and Amatist, men place In Kings Emperiall Crownes, the circle that enchase. The braue Carnation then, with sweet and soueraigne power * 1.1066 (So of his colour call'd, although a Iuly-flower) With th'other of his kinde, the speckled and the pale: Then th'odoriferous Pink, that sends forth such a gale Of sweetnes; yet in sents, as various as in sorts. The purple Violet then, the Pansie there supports: The Mary. gold aboue t'adorne the arched Bar: The dubble Daysie, Thrift, the Button-batcheler, Sweet William, Sops in wine, the Campion: and to these, Some Lauander they put, with Rosemary and Bayes: Sweet Marjoram, with her like, sweet Basill rare for smell, VVith many a flower, whose name were now too long to tell: And rarely with the rest, the goodly Fower-delice.

Thus for the nuptiall houre, all fitted point-deuice, Whilst some still busied are in decking of the Bride, Some others were again as seriously imploy'd In strewing of those hearbs, at Bridalls vs'd that be; Which euery where they throwe with bountious hands and free. * 1.1067 The healthfull Balme and Mint, from their full laps doe fly, The sent-full Camomill, the verdurous Costmary. They hot Muscado oft with milder Maudlin cast: Strong Tansey, Fennell coole, they prodigally waste: Cleere Isop, and therewith the comfortable Thyme, Germander with the rest, each thing then in her prime; As well of wholesome hearbs, as euery pleasant flower, Which Nature here produc't, to fit this happy houre. Amongst these strewing kinds, some other wilde that growe, As Burnet, all abroad, and Meadow-wort they throwe.

Thus all things falling out to euery ones desire, The ceremonies done that Mariage doth require, The Bride and Bridegroome set, and serv'd with sundry cates, And euery other plac't, as fitted their estates; Amongst this confluence great, wise Charwell here was thought The fitst to cheare the guests: who throughly had been taught In all that could pertaine to Court-ship, long agon, As comming from his Sire, the fruitfull Helidon, * 1.1068 He trauelleth to Tames; where passing by those Townes Of that rich Country neere, whereas the mirthfull clownes, With Taber and the pipe, on holydayes doe vse, Vpon the May-pole Greene, to trample out their shooes: And hauing in his eares the deepe and * 1.1069 solemne rings, Which sound him all the way, vnto the learned Springs, Where he, his Soueraigne Ouze most happily doth meet, And him, the thrice-three maids, Apollos ofspring, greet With all their sacred gifts: thus, expert being growne In musicke; and besides, a curious Maker knowne: * 1.1070 This Charwell (as I said) the fitst these Floods among, For silence hauing call'd, thusto th'assembly song;

Stand fast ye higher Hills: low vallies easily lie: And Forrests that to both you equally apply (But for the greater part, both wilde and barren be) Retire ye to your wastes; and Riuers only we, Oft meeting let vs mixe: and with delightfull grace, Let euery beautious Nymph, her best lov'd Flood imbrace, An Alien be he borne, or neer to her owne Spring, So from his natiue Fount he brauely flourishing, Along the flowry Fields, licentiously do straine, Greeting each curled groue, and circling euery Plaine; Or hasting to his fall, his sholy grauell scowr's, And with his Crystall front, then courts the climing Towres.

Let all the world be Iudge, what Mountaine hath a name, Like that from whose proud foot, their springs some Flood of Fame: And in the Earth's suruay, what seat like that is set, Whose Streets some ample Streame, aboundantly doth wet? Where is there Hauen found, or Harbour, like that Road, Int'which some goodly Flood, his burthen doth vnload? By whose rank swelling Streame, the far-fetcht forraine fraught, May vp to In-land Townes conueniently be brought. Of any part of Earth, we be the most renown'd; That countries very oft, nay, Empires oft we bound. As Rubicon, much fam'd, both for his Fount and Fall, The ancient limit held, twixt Italy and * 1.1071 Gaule. Europe and Asia keep on Tanais either side. Such honor haue we Floods, the World (euen) to diuide.

Nay: Kingdoms thus we proue are christened oft by vs; Iberia takes her name of Crystall Iberus. Such reuerence to our kinde the wiser Ancients gaue, As they suppos'd each Flood a Deity to haue:

But with our fame at home returne we to proceed. In Britanne here we find, our Seuerne, and our Tweed, The tripartited Ile doe generally diuide, To England, Scotland, Wales, as each doth keep her side. Trent cuts the Land in two, so equally, as tho Nature it pointed-out, to our great Brute to show How to his mightie Sonnes the Iland he might share. A thousand of this kinde, and neerer, I will spare; VVhere if the state of Floods, at large I list to show, I proudly could report how Pactolus doth throwe Vp graines of perfect gold; and of great Ganges tell, Which when full India's showers inforceth him to swell, Gilds with his glistering sands the ouer-pampered shore: How wealthy Tagus first by tumbling down his ore, The rude and slothfull Moores of old Iberia taught, To search into those hills, from which such wealth he brought. Beyond these if I pleas'd, I to your praise could bring, In sacred Tempe, how (about the hoose-plow'd Spring) The Heliconian Maides, vpon that hallowed ground, Recounting heauenly Hymnes eternally are crown'd. And as the earth doth vs in her owne bowels nourish; So euery thing, that growes by vs, doth thriue and flourish. To godly vertuous men, we wisely likened are: To be so in themselues, that do not only care; But by a sacred power, which goodnesse doth awaite, Doe make those vertuous too, that them associate.

By this, the wedding ends, and brake vp all the Showe: And Tames, got, borne, and bred, immediately doth flowe, To Windsor-ward amaine (that with a wondring eye, The Forrest might behold his awfull Emperie) And soon becometh great, with waters wext so rank, That with his wealth he seemes to retch his widned Bank: Till happily attayn'd his Grandsire Chilterns grounds, VVho with his Beechen wreaths this king of Riuers crownes. Amongst his holts and hils, as on his way he makes, At Reading once arriu'd, cleere Kennet ouertakes: Her Lord the stately Tames, which that great flood againe, VVith many signes of ioy doth kindly entertaine. Then Loddon next comes in, contributing her store; As still we see, The much runnes euer to the more.

Set out with all this pompe, when this Emperiall Streame, Himselfe establisht sees, amidst his watry Realme,

His much-lov'd Henly leaues, and proudly doth persue His Wood nymph Windsors seate, her louely site to view. VVhose most delightful face when once the Riuer sees, VVhich shewes her selfe attir'd in tall and stately trees, He in such earnest loue with amorous gestures wooes, That looking still at her, his way vvas like to loose; And wandring in and out so wildly seems to goe, As headlong he himselfe into her lap would throw.

Him with the like desire the Forrest doth imbrace, And with her presence striues her Tames asmuch to grace. No Forrest, of them all, so fit as she doth stand. VVhen Princes, for their sports, her pleasures will command, No Wood-nymph as her selfe such troupes hath euer seene, Nor can such Quarries boast as haue in Windsor beene. Nor any euer had so many solemne dayes; So braue assemblies viewd, nor took so rich * 1.1072 assaies.

Then, hand in hand, her Tames the Forrest softly brings, To that supreamest place of the great English Kings, § The Garters Royall seate, from him who did aduance That Princely Order first, our first that conquered France; The Temple of Saint George, wheras his honored Knights, Vpon his hallowed day, obserue their ancient 〈◊〉〈◊〉: Where Eaton is at hand to nurse that learned brood, To keepe the Muses still neere to this Princely Flood; That nothing there may want, to beawtifie that seate, VVith euery pleasure stor'd: And here my Song compleate.

Illustrations.

I Shall here be shorter then in the last before. The Muse is so full in herselfe, employ'd wholly about the Nuptials of Tame and Isis. In the Ghirlands of Tame are vvreathed most of our English Field-flowers: in them of Isis, our more sweet and those of the Garden; Yet vpon that,

The Garters Royall seat, from him who did aduance.

I cannot but remember the institution, (toucht to the IV. Song) of his most honorable Order, dedicated to S. George (in XXIV. Ed. III.) it is yeer∣ly at this place celebrated by that Noble companie of XXVI. Whether the cause were vpon the word of Garter giuen in the French wars among the Eng∣lish, or vpon the Queens, or Countes of Salisburies Garter fallen from her leg, or vpon different & more ancient Original whatsoeuer, know cleerly (without vnlimited affectation of your Countries glorie) that it 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in Maiestie, ho∣nor, and fame, all Chiualrous Orders in the world; and (excepting those of Templars, S. Iames, Calatraua, Alcantara, and such like other, which were more Religious then Military) hath precedence of Antiquity before the eldest rank of honor, of that kind any where established. The Anunciada (2 1.1073 instituted by Amades VI. Earle of Sauoy, about 〈◊〉〈◊〉 CCCC. IX. although others haue it by Amades IV. and so creat it before this of the Garter) and that of the Golden Fleece, by 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Duke of Burgundy 〈◊〉〈◊〉. CCCC. XXIX. of S. Michael by Lewes XI. Della Banda, by Alfonso of Spaine, & such like, ensuedit, as imitating In∣stitutions, after a regard of the farre extended fame, worth, and glory of S. Georges Knights.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The sixteenth Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

Olde Ver, neere to Saint Albans, brings Watling to talk of auncient things; What Verlam was before she fell, And many more sad ruines tell. Of the foure old Emperiall Waies, The course they held, and too what Seas; Of those seauen Saxon Kingdomes here, Their sites, and how they bounded were. Then Pure-vale vants her rich estate: And Lea bewraies her wretched Fate. The Muse, led on with much delight, Deliuers Londons happy site; Showes this loose Ages leud abuse: And for this time there staies the Muse.

THe Brydall of our Tame and Princely Isis past: And Tamesis their sonne, begot, and wexing fast, Inuiteth Crystill * Colne his wealth on him to lay, Whose beauties had intic't his Soueraine Tames to stay, * 1.1074 Had he not been inforc't, by his vnruly traine. For Brent, a pretty Brook, allures him on againe, Great London to lalute, whose hie-rear'd Turrets throng To gaze vpon the Flood, as he doth passe along. Now, as the Tames is great, so most transparent Colne Feeles, with excessiue ioy, her amorous bosome swolne, That 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of long esteem'd, a famous auncient Flood (Vpon whose aged Bank olde Verlamchester stood, Before the Roman rule) here glorify'd of yore, Vnto her cleerer banks contributed his store; Enlarging both her streame, and strengthening his renowne, Where the delicious Meads her through her course doe crown. This * Ver (as I haue said) Colnes tributary brook, On Verlams ruin'd walles as sadly he doth look,* 1.1075 Neere Holy Albans Towne, where his rich shrine was set, Old Watling in his way the Flood doth ouer-get.

Where after reuerence done, Ver quoth the Ancient Street Tis long since thou and I first in this place did meet. And so it is quoth Ver, and we haue liu'd to see Things in farre better state then at this time they be: But he that made, amend: for much their goes amisse. Quoth Watling, gentle flood, yea so in truth it is: And since of this thou speakst; the very sooth to say, Since Great Mulmutius, first, made me the noblest Way, The soyle is altered much: the cause I pray thee showe. The time that thou hast liu'd, hath taught thee much to knowe. I faine would vnderstand, why this delightfull place, In former time that stood so hie in Natures grace (Which bare such store of graine, and that so wondrous great, That all the neighboring Coast was cald the * 1.1076 soyle of wheate) Of later time is turn'd a hotte and hungry sand, Which scarce repayes the seed first cast into the the Land. At which the silent brooke shrunk-in his siluer head, And fain'd as he away would instantly haue fled; Suspecting, present speech might passed griefe renew. Whom Watling thus againe doth seriously pursue; I pray thee be not coy, but answere my demand: The cause of this (deer Flood) I faine would vnderstand.

§ Thou saw'st when Verlam once her head aloft did 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (Which in her cinders now lies sadly buried heere) With Alablaster, Tuch, and Porphery adorn'd, VVhen (welneare) in her pride great Troynouant she scorn'd. § Thou sawest great-burthen'd Ships through these thy valleyes pass, Where now the sharp-edg'd Sithe sheeres vp the spyring grasse: That where the vgly Seale and Porpose v'sd to play, The Grashopper and Ant now lord it all the day: Where now Saint Albans stands was called Holme-hurst then; Whose sumptuous Fane we see neglected now agen.

This rich and goodly Fane which ruind thou doest see, Quoth Ver, the motiue is that thou importun'st me: But to another thing thou cunningly doest flie, And reason seem'st to vrge of her sterilitie. With that he setcht a sigh, and ground his teeth in rage; Quoth Ver euen for the sin of this accursed Age. Behold that goodly Fane, which ruind now doth stand, To holy * 1.1077 Albon built, first Martyr of the Land; * 1.1078 Who in the faith of Christ from Rome to Britanne came, And dying in this place, resign'd his glorious Name. In memory of whom, (as more then halfe Diuine) Our English Off a rear'd a rich and sumptuous shrine And Monastary heere: which our succeding kings, From time to time endow'd with many goodly things.

And many a Christian Knight was buried heere, before The Norman set his foote vpon this conquered shore; And after those braue spirits in all those balefull stowres, That with Duke * Robert went against the Pagan powers, * 1.1079 And in their Countries right at Cressy those that stood, And that at Poyters bath'd their bilbowes in French blood; Their valiant Nephewes next at Agin-court that fought, Whereas rebellious France vpon her knees was brought: In this religious house at some of their returns, When nature claym'd her due, here plac't their hallowed vrnes: Which now deuowring Time, in his so mighty waste, Demolishing those walls, hath vtterly defac't. So that the earth to feele the ruinous heaps of stones, That with the burth'nous weight now presse their sacred boanes, Forbids this wicked brood, should by her fruits be fed; As loathing her owne womb, that such loose children bred. Herewith transported quite, to these exclaimes he fell: Liues no man, that this world her grieuous crimes dare tell? Where be those noble spirits for ancient things that stood? When in my prime of youth I was a gallant flood; In those free golden dayes, it was the Satyres vse To taxe the guilty times, and raile vpon abuse: But soothers find the way preferment most to win; Who seruing Great mens turnes, become the bauds to sin.

VVhen Watling in his words that tooke but small delight, Hearing the angry Brook so cruelly to bite; As one that faine would driue these fancies from his mind, Quoth he, Ile tell thee things that sute thy gentler kind. My Song is of my selfe, and my three sister Streets, VVhich way each of vs runne, where each his fellow meets, Since vs, his Kingly Waies, Mulmutius first began, From Sea, againe to Sea, that through the Iland ran. VVhich that in mind to keep posterity might haue, Appointing first our course, this priuiledge he gaue, That no man might arrest, or debtors goods might seize In any of vs fowre his militarie Waies. And though the Fosse in length exceed me many a mile, That holds from shore to shore the length of all the Ile, From where Rich Cornwall points, to the Iberian Seas, Till colder Cathnes tells the scattered Orcades, I measuring but the bredth, that is not halfe his gate; Yet, for that I am grac't with goodly Londons state, * 1.1080 And Tames and Seuerne both since in my course I crosse, And in much greater trade; am worthier farre then Fosse. But ô vnhappie chance! through times disastrous lot, Our other fellow Streets lie vtterly forgot:

As Icning, that set out from Yarmouth in the East, By the Iceni then being generally possest, Was of that people first tearm'd Icning in her race, Vpon the * Chiltern here that did my course imbrace: * 1.1081 Into the dropping South and bearing then outright, Vpon the Solent Sea stopt on the Ile-of-Wight.

And Rickneld, forth that raught from Cambria's farther shore, Where South-Wales now shoots forth Saint Dauid's Promontore. And, on his mid-way neere, did me in England meet; Then in his oblique course the lusty stragling Street Soone ouertook the Fosse; and toward the fall of Tine, Into the Germane Sea dissolu'd at his decline.

Here Watling would haue ceast, his tale as hauing tolde: But now this Flood that faine the Street in talke would hold, Those ancient things to heare, which well old Watling knew, With these entising words, her fairely forward drew.

Right Noble Street, quoth he, thou hast liu'd long, gone farre, Much trafique had in peace, much trauailed in warre; And in thy larger course suruay'st as sundry grounds (Where I poore Flood am lockt within these narrower bounds, And like my ruin'd selfe these ruins only see, And there remains not one to pittie them or me) On with thy former speech: I pray theesomwhat say. For, Watling, as thou art a military Way, Thy story of old Streets likes me so wondrous well, That of the ancient folk I faine would heare thee tell.

With these perswasiue words, smooth Ver the Watling wan: Stroking her. dusty face, when thus the Street began;

When once their seauen-fold Rule the Saxons came to reare, And yet with halfe this Ile sufficed scarcely were, Though from the Inland part the Britans they had chas't, Then vnderstand how heere themselues the Saxons plac't.

Where in Great Britans state foure people of her owne Were by the seuerall names of their abodes well knowne (As, in that horne which iuttes into the Sea so farre, VVherein our Deuonsbire now, and furthest Cornewall are, The old Danmonij dwelt: so hard againe at hand, The Durotriges sat on the Dorsetian Sand: And where from Sea to Sea the Belgae forth were let, Euen from Southhamptons shore, through Wilt and Sommerset, * 1.1082 The Attrebates in Bark vnto the Bank of Tames, Betwixt the Celtick sleeue and the Sabrinian streames) The Saxons there set down one Kingdome: which install'd, And being VVest, they it their Westerne kingdom call'd. So Eastward where by Tames the Trinobants were set, To Trinouant their Towne, for that their name in debt,

That London now we tearme, the Saxons did possesse, And their East kingdome call'd, as * 1.1083 Essex doth expresse; The greatest part thereof, and still their name doth beare; Though Middlesex therein, and part of Hartford were; From Colne vpon the West, vpon the East to * 1.1084 Stour, Where mighty Tames himselfe doth into Neptune pour.

As to our farthest Rise, where forth those Fore-lands leane, Which beare their chaulky browes into the German Maine, The Angles which arose out of the Saxon race, Allur'd with the delights and fitnes of that place, Where the Iceni liu'd did set their kingdome downe, From where the wallowing Seas those queachy Washes drowne That Ely doe in-Ile, to martyred Edmonds Ditch, Till those Norfolcian shores vast Neptune doth inrich: Which (farthest to the East of this diuided Ile) Th'East Angles kingdome, then, those English did instile.

And Sussex seemeth still, as with an open mouth, Those Saxons Rule to shew that of the vtmost South The name to them assum'd, who rigorously expeld The Kentish Britans thence, and those rough wood-lands held From where the goodly Tames the Surrian grounds doth sweep, Vntill the smiling Downes salute the Celtick Deep.

Where the Dobuni dwelt, their neighbouring Cateuclani, Cornauij more remote, and where the Coritani, VVhere Dee and Mersey shoot into the Irish Sea; (Which welneereo're this part, now called England, lay, From Seuerne to the Ditch that cuts New-Market Plaine, And from the Banks of Tames to Humber, which containe So many goodly shires of Mersey, Mercia hight) Their mightier Empire, there, the middle English pight. Which farthest though it raught, yet there it did not end: But Offa, king thereof, it after did extend Beyond the Bank of Dee; and by a Ditch he cut Through Wales from North to South, into wide Mercia put Welneere the halfe thereof: and from three peoples there, To whom three speciall parts diuided iustly were (The Ordouices, now which North-Wales people be, From Cheshire which of old diuided was by Dee: And from our Marchers now, that were Demetae then; And those Silures call'd, by vs the South-Wales men) Beyond the Seuerne, much the English Offa took, To shut the Britans vp, within a little nooke.

From whence, by Merseyes Banks, the rest a kingdome made: Where, in the Britanes Rule (before) the Brigants sway'd; The powerfull English there establisht were to stand: Which, North from Humber set, they tearm'd North-humberland;

Two Kingdomes which had been, with seuerall thrones install'd. Bernitia hight the one; Diera th'other call'd. The first from Humber stretcht vnto the Bank of Tine: Which Riuer and the Frith the other did confine. Bernitia beareth through the spacious Yorkish bounds, From Durham down along to the Lancastrian * 1.1085 Sounds, With Mersey and cleere Tine continuing to their fall, To England-ward within the Pict's renowned Wall, And did the greater part of * 1.1086 Cumberland containe: * 1.1087 With whom the Britans name for euer shall remaine; Who there amongst the rocks and mountaines liued long, When they Loegria left, inforc't through powerfull wrong. Diera ouer Tine, into Albania lay, To where the * 1.1088 Frith falls out into the German Sea. * 1.1089

This said, the aged Street sagd sadly on alone: And Ver vpon his course, now hasted to be gone T'accompany his Colne: which as she gently glides, Doth kindly him imbrace: whom soon this hap betides; As Colne come on along, and chanc't to cast her cye Vpon that neighbouring Hill where Harrow stands so hie, She Peryvcle perceiu'd prankt vp with wreaths of wheat, * 1.1090 And with exulting tearmes thus glorying in her seat; VVhy should not I be coy, and of my Beauties nice, Since this my goodly graine is held of greatest price? No manchet can so well the courtly palat please, As that made of the meale fetcht from my fertill Leaze. Their finest of that kind, compared with my wheate, For whitenesse of the Bread, doth look like common Cheate. What Barly is there found, whose faire and bearded care Makes stouter English Ale, or stronger English Beere. The Oate, the Beane, and Pease, with me but Pulses are; The course and browner Rye, no more then Fitch and Tare. What seed doth any soyle, in England bring, that I Beyond her most increase yet cannot multiply. Besides; my sure abode next goodly London is, To vent my fruitfull store, that me doth neuer misse. And those poore baser things, they cannot put away, How ere I set my price, nere on my chap-men stay.

VVhen presently the Hill, that maketh her a Vale, With things he had in hand, did interrupt her tale, VVith Hampsted being falne and Hie-gate at debate; As one besore them both, that would aduance his State, From either for his height to beare away the praise, Besides that he alone rich Peryvale suruaies. But Hampsted pleads, himselfe in Simples to haue skill, * 1.1091 And therefore by desert to be the noblest Hill;

As one, that on his worth, and knowledge doth rely In learned Physicks vse, and skilfull Surgerie; * 1.1092 And challengeth, from them, the worthiest place her owne, Since that old Watling once, o're him, to passe was knowne.

Then Hie-gate boasts his Way; which men do most frequent; His long-continued fame; his hie and great descent; Appointed for a gate of London to haue been, When first the mighty Brute, that City did begin. And that he is the Hill, next Enfield which hath place, A Forrest for her pride, though titled but a Chase. Her Purlewes, and her Parks, her circuit full as large, As some (perhaps) whose state requires a greater charge. VVhose * Holts that view the East, do wistly stand to look Vpon the winding course of Lee's delightfull Brook. * 1.1093 Where Mimer comming in, inuites her Sister Beane, Amongst the chalky Banks t'increase their Mistresse traine; Whom by the dainty hand, obsequiously they lead (By Hartford gliding on, through many a pleasant Mead. And comming in hir course, to crosse the common Fare, For kindnes she doth kisse that hospitable Ware.) Yet scarsely comfort Lee (alasse!) so woe begonne, Complaining in her course, thus to her selfe alone; How should my beauty now giue Waltham such delight, Or I poore silly Brook take pleasure in her sight? Antiquity (for that it stands so far from view, And would her doating dreames should be believ'd for true) Dare lowdly lie for Colne, that somtimes Ships did passe, To Verlam by by her Streame, when Verlam famous was; But, by these later times, suspected but to faine, She Planks and Anchors shews, her errour to maintaine; Which were, indeede, of Boats, for pleasure there to rowe Vpon her (then a Lake) the Roman Pompe to showe, When Rome, her forces here did euery yeere supply, And at old Verlam kept a warlike Colony. But I distressed Lee, whose course doth plainely tell, That what of Colne is said, of me none could refell, Whom * Alfred but too wise (poore Riuer) I may say * 1.1094 (VVhen he the cruell Danes, did cunningly betray, Which Hartford then besieg'd, whose Nauy there abode, And on my spacious brest, before the Castle road) By vantage of my soyle, he did diuide my Streame; That they might ne're returne to Neptunes watry Realme. And, since, distressed Lee I haue been left forlorne, A by-word to each Brook, and to the World a scorne.

When Sturt, a Nymph of hers (whose faith she oft had prov'd, And whom, of all her traine, Lee most intirely lov'd)

Least so excessiue greefe, her Mistresle might inuade, Thus (by faire gentle speech) to patience doth perswade:

Though you be not so great to others as before, Yet not a iot for that dislike your selfe the more. Your case is not alone, nor is (at all) so strange; Sith euery thing on earth subiects it selfe to change. Where riuers sometime ran, is firme and certaine ground: And where before were Hills, now standing Lakes are found. And that which most you vrge, your beauty to dispoile, Doth recompence your Bank, with quantitie of soyle, Beset with ranks of Swans; that, in their wonted pride, Do prune their snowy plumes vpon your pleasant side. And Waltham wooes you still, and smiles with wonted cheere: And Tames as at the first, so still doth hold you deer.

To much beloued Lee, this scarcely Sturt had spoke, But goodly Londons sight their further purpose broke: When Tames his either Banks, adorn'd with buildings faire, The City to salute doth bid the Muse prepare. Whose T urrets, Fanes, and Spyres, when wistly she beholds, Her wonder at the site, thus strangely she vnfolds: At thy great Builders wit, who's he but wonder may? Nay: of his wisedom, thus, ensuing times shall say; O more then mortall man, that did this T owne begin! Whose knowledge found the plot, so fit to set it in. What God, or heauenly power was harbourd in thy breast, From whom with such successe thy labours should be blest? Built on a rising Bank, within a Vale to stand, * 1.1095 And for thy healthfull soyle, chose grauell mixt with sand. And where faire Tames his course into a Crescent casts (That, forced by his T ydes, as still by her he hasts, He might his surging waues into her bosome send) Because too farre in length, his T owne should not extend.

And to the North and South, vpon an equall reach, Two Hils their euen Banks do some what seeme to stretch, Those * two extreamer Winds from hurting it to let; * 1.1096 And only leuell lies, vpon the Rise and Set. Of all this goodly Ile, where breathes most cheerefull aire And euery way there-to the wayes most smooth and faire; As in the fittest place, by man that could be thought, To which by Land, or Sea, prouision might be brought. And such a Road for Ships scarce all the world commands, As is the goodly Tames, neer where Brute's City stands. Nor any Hauen lies to which is more resort, Commodities to bring, as also to transport: Our Kingdome that enricht (through which we flourisht long) E're idle Gentry vp in such aboundance sprong.

Now pestring all this Ile: whose disproportion drawes The publique wealth so drie, and only is the cause Our gold goes out so fast, for foolish forainc things, Which vpstart Gentry still into our Country brings; Who their in satiate pride seek chiefly to maintaine By that, which only serues to vses vileand vaine: Which our plaine Fathers carst would haue accounted sinne, Before the costly Coach, and silken stock came in; Before that Indian weed so strongly was imbrac't; * 1.1097 Wherin, such mighty summes we prodigally waste; That Merchants long train'd vp in Gayn's deceitfull schoole, And subtly hauing learn'd to sooth the humorous foole, Present their painted toyes vnto this frantique gull, Disparaging our Tinne, our Leather, Corne, and Wooll; VVhen Forrainers, with ours them warmly cloath and feed, Transporting trash to vs, of which we nere had need.

But whilst the angry Muse, thus on the Time exclames, Sith euery thing therin consisteth in extreames; Lest she inforc't with wrongs, her limits should transcend, Here of this present Song she briefly makes an end.

Illustrations.

IN wandring passage the Muse returnes from the Wedding, somewhat into the Land, and first to Hartford; whence, after matter of description, to London.

Thou saw'st when Verlam once her head alost did beare.

For, vnder Nero, the Britons intollerably loaden with weight of the Roman gouernment, and especially the Icens (now Norfolk & Suffulk men) prouok't by that cruell seruitude, into which, not themselues only, but the wife also and Posteritie of their King Prasutagus were, euen beyond right of victorie, con∣strained, at length breathing for libertie (and in a further continuance of warre hauing for their Generall R. Boudicea, Bunduica, or as the difference of her name is) rebell'd against their forraine Conqueror, and in Martiall oppositi∣on committing a slaughter of no lesse then LXXX M. (as Dio hath, although Tacitus misse 〈◊〉〈◊〉. of this number) ransackt and spoild Maldon (then Camalodunum) and also this Verulam (neer S. Albons) which were the two a 1.1098 chief Towns of the Ile; The first a Colony (wheros the VIII. Song:) this a * 1.1099 Municipal Citie, call'd expresly in a Catalogue at th'end of Nonnius, Caer-Municip. Out of b 1.1100 Agellius I thus note to you its Nature. * 1.1101 Municipes sunt Ciues Romaniex Mu∣nicipys suo iure & Legibus suis vtentes, Muneris tantùm cum Pop. Rom. honorary participes, a quo Munere capesiendo 〈◊〉〈◊〉 videntur; 〈◊〉〈◊〉 alijs necessitatibus ne{que} vlla Pop. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 astricti, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 nunquam Pop. Rom. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sundus factus esset. It differed from a Colony, most of all in that a Colony was a Progeny of the Citie, and this of such were as receiued into State-fauour and friendship by the Roman. Personating the Genius of Verlam, that euer famous c 1.1102 Spenser sang

I was that Citie, which the Garland wore
Of Britaines Pride, deliuered vnto me
By Roman Victors, which it wonne of yore;
Though nought at all but Ruines now I be,
And lie in mine owne ashes, as ye see:
Verlam I was; what bootes it that I was,
Sith now I am but weeds and wastfull grass?

As vnder the Romans, so in the Saxon times afterward it endured a second Ruine: and, out of its corruption, after the Abbey erected by K. Offa, was gene∣rated that of Saint Albons; whither, a 1.1103 in later times most of the stone-workes and vvhatsoeuer fit for building vvas by the Abbots translated. So that,
— b 1.1104 Now remaines no Memorie,
Nor any little moniment to see,
By which the Traueller that fares that way,
This once was shee, may warned be to say.

The name hath bin thought from the Riuer there running call'd Ver, and Humfrey c 1.1105 Lhuid makes it, as if it were Her-Ihan. i. a Church vpon Ver.

Thou saw'st great burthen'd ships through these thy vallies pass.

Lay not here vnlikelihoods to the Authors charge; he tells you more iudi∣ciously towards the end of the Song. But the cause why some haue thought so, is, for that, d 1.1106 Gildas, speaking of S. Albons martyrdome and his miracu∣lous passing through the Riuer at Verlamcestre, calls it * 1.1107 iter ignotum trans Tha∣mesis fluuij alueum: so by collection they guest that Thames had then his full course this way, being thereto further mou'd by Anchors and such like here digd vp. This coniecture hath been followed by that e 1.1108 Noble Muse thus in the person of Verlam;
And where the Crystall Thamis wont to slide
In siluer channell downe along the lee,
About whose flowry bankes on either side
A thousand Nymphes, with mirth fulliollity,
Were wont to play from all annoyance free:
There now no Riuers course is to be seene,
But Moorish Fennes, and Marshes euer greene.
There also where the winged ships were seene,
In liquid waues, to cut their fomie way;
A thousand Fishers numbred to haue been
In that wide Lake looking for plentious pray
Of fish, with baites which they vs'd to betray,
Is now no Lake, nor any Fishers store,
Nor euer Ship shall saile there any more.

But, for this matter of the Thames, those two great Antiquaries, Leland and Camden, haue ioind in iudgement against it: and for the Anchors, they may be suppos'd of fish-boats in large pooles, which haue here bin; and yet are lest re∣liques of their name.

Since vs his Kingly waies Molmutius first began.

Neere D. yeers before our Sauiour, this K. Molmutius (take it vpon credit of

the British story) constituted diuers lawes; especially that Churches, Plough's, and High-waeies should haue liberties of Sanctuarie, by no authoritie violable. That Churches should be free and enioy libertie for refuge, consenting allow∣ance of most Nations haue tolerated, and in this Kingdome (it being affirm'd also by constitution of g 1.1109 K. Lucius a Christian) euery Churchyard was a Sanc∣tuarie, vntill by act h 1.1110 of Parliament vnder Hen. VIII. that licence, for protec∣tion of Offences, being too much abused, was taken away; but, whether now restored in the last i 1.1111 Parliament, wherein all statutes concerning Abiuration or Sanctuarie made before XXXV. Eliz. are repealed, I examine not. The Plough and Husbandmen haue by our k 1.1112 statutes & especially by l 1.1113 Ciuil and m 1.1114 Persian law, great freedomes. High-waies, being without exception, necessarie, as well for Peace as Warre, haue bin defended in the Roman n 1.1115 lawes, and are ta∣ken in ours, to be in that respect (as they are by implication of the name) the Kings High-waeies, and o 1.1116 * 1.1117 res sacrae: & qui aliquid inde occupauer it excedendo fines & terminos terrae suae dicitur fecisse Purpresturam super ipsum Regem. Ac∣cording to this priuiledge of Mulmutius in the statute of Marlebridge p 1.1118 it is enacted, that none should distraine in the Kings High-way, or the common Street, but the King and his Ministers, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 authoritatem ad hoc habenti∣bus; which I particularly transcribe, because the printed books are therein so generally corrupted by addition of this here cited in Latine; You see it alters the Law much, and we haue diuers iudgements, that in behalfe of the King by common Bailifs without speciall authority Distres may be q 1.1119 taken, as for an amerciament in the Shrifes Torne or Leete, or for Parliament Knights fees. But the old Rolls of the statute (as I haue seen in a faire Ms. examined by the exemplification, for the Record it selfe is with many other lost) had not those words, as the r 1.1120 Register also specially admonishes, nor is any part of that Chap∣ter in some Mss. which I maruaile at, seeing we haue a formal writ grounded vpon it. Not much amisse were it here to remember a worse fault, but conti∣nually receiu'd, in the Charter of the Forest Art. VII. where you read Nullus Forestarius &c. aliquam collectam faciat nisi per Visum & Sacramentum XII. Re∣gardatornm quando faciunt Regardum. Tot Forestarij &c. the truth of the best Copies (and so was the Record) being in this digestion Nullus Forestarius &c. aliquam collectam faciat. Et per visum Sacramentum XII. Regardatorū, quando faciunt Regardū, tot Forestarij ponantur &c. as, beside authentique Mss. it is expresly in the like Charter, almost word, for word, giuen first by K. Iohn, and printed in Mathew Paris; twixt which, and that of ours commonly read, may he be made a time-deseruing comparison. Were it not for digression, I would speake of the sensles making of Boniface Archbishop of Canterbury witnes to the graund Charter in IX. Hen. III. When as it is plaine that he was not Archbishop vntill XXV. The best copie that euer I sawe had Simon Arch∣bishop of Canterburie: which indeed was worse, there being no such Prelate of that See, in those times; but the mistaking was by the transcriber turning the single S. (according to the forme of writing in that age) into Simon for Stephen, who was (Stephen of Langton) Archbishop at that time. But I forget my selfe in following matter of my more particular study, & return to Molmutius. His constitution being generall for libertie of High-waies, controuersie grew a∣bout the course and limits of them: wherupon his sonne K. Belin to quit the subiect of that doubt caus'd more specially these foure, here presently spo∣ken of, to be made, which might be for interrupted passage both in Warre and Peace; and hence by the Author, they are call'd Military (a name giuen by the Romans to such High-waies, as were for their marching armies) and indeed by more polit conceit s 1.1121 and iudicious authority these our waies haue bin thought

a worke of the Romans also. But their courses are differently reported, and in some part their names also. The Author calls them Watling-street, the Fosse, Ikinild, and Rickeneld. This name of Rickeneld is in Randall of Chester and by him deriued from S. Dewies in Penbroke into Hereford, & so through Wor∣cester, Warwick, Derby, and York-shires to Tinmouth, which (vpon the Authors credit reporting it to me) is also iustifiable by a very ancient deed of Lands, bounded neer Bermingham in Warwickshire by Rickeneld. To endeuor certain∣ty in them, were but to obtrude vnwarrantable coniecture, and abuse time & you. Of Watling (who is here personated, & so much the more proper because Verlam was call'd also, by the English, m 1.1122 Watling-chester) it is sayd that it went frō Douer in Kent, & so by West of London (yet part of the name seems to this day left in the middle of the Citie) to this place, & thence in a crooked line through Shropshire by Wrekin hillinto n 1.1123 Cardigan; but o 1.1124 others say from Verlam to Che∣ster; and where all is refer'd to Belin by Geffrey ap Arthur, and Polychronicon, another p 1.1125 tels you that the sonnes of (I know not what) K. Wethle made, and denominated it. The Fosse is deriued, by one consent out of Cornwall into De∣uonshire, through Somerset, ouer Cotes-wold by Teukesburie, along neere Couen∣try, to Leicester, through Lincolne to Berwick, and thenceto Cathnes thevt∣most of Scotland. Of Restitution of the other you may be desperate; Ricke∣neld I haue told you of; In Henry of Huntingdon, no such name is found, but with the first two, Ickenild and Ermingstreet. Ickenild, sayth he, goes from East to West: Ermingstreet, from South, to North: Another tells me that Ermingstreet begins at S. Dewies, and conuaies it selfe to Southamp∣ton; which the Author hath attributed to Ichning, begun (vpon the words communitie with Icens) in the Easterne parts. Its not my power to reconcile all these, or elect the best; I only add, that, Ermingstreet (which being of Eng∣lish, Idions, seems to haue had its name from 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in that signification wherby it q 1.1126 interprets an vniuersall pillar worshipt for Mercurie president of waies, is like enough (if Huntingdon be in the right, making it from South to North) to haue left its part in Stanstreet in Surrey, where a way made with stones and grauel in a soile on both sides very different continues neere a mile; and thence towards the Easterne shore in Sussex are some places seeming as o∣ther reliques of it. But I here determine nothing.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The seuenteenth Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

To Medway, Tames a suter goes; But fancies Mole, as forth he flowes. Her Mother, Homesdale, holds her in: She digs through Earth, the Tames to win. Great Tames, as King of Riuers, sings The Catalogue of th'English Kings. Thence the light Muse, to th'Southward soares, The Surrian and Sussexian shores; The Forrests and the Downes suruaies, With Rillets running to those Seas; This Song of hers then cutteth short, For things to come, of much import.

AT length it came to passe, that Isis and her Tame Of Medway vnderstood, a Nymph of wondrous fame; And much desirous were, their princely Tames shuld proue If (as a wooer) he could win her Maiden-loue; That of so great descent, and of so large a Dower, Might well-allie their House, and much increase his power: And striuing to preferre their Sonne, the best they may, Set forth the lusty Flood, in rich and braue array, Bankt with imbrodered Meads, of sundry sutes of flowres, His brest adorn'd with Swans, oft washt with siluer showres: A traine of gallant Floods, at such a costly rate As might beseeme their care, and fitting his estate.

Attended and attyr'd magnificently thus, They send him to the Court of great Oceanus, The Worlds huge wealth to see; yet with a full intent, To wooe the louely Nymph, faire Medway, as he went. Who to his Dame and Sire, his duty scarce had done, And whil'st they sadly wept at parting of their Sonne, See what the Tames befell, when t'was suspected least.

As still his goodly traine yet euery houre increast, And from the Surrian shores cleere Wey came down to meet His Greatnes, whom the Tames so gratiously doth greet,

That with the * 1.1127 Fearne-crown'd Flood he Minion-like doth play: Yet is not this the Brook, entiseth him to stay. But as they thus, in pompe, came sporting on the shole, Gainst Hampton-Court he meets the soft and gentle Mole. Whose eyes so pierc't his breast, that seeming to foreslowe The way which he so long, intended was to go, With trifling vp and down, he wandreth here and there; And that he in her sight, transparent might appeare, Applyes himselfe to Fords, and setteth his delight On that which most might make him gratious in her sight.

Then Isis and the Tame from their conioyned bed, Desirous still to learne how Tames their son had sped (For greatly they had hop't, his time had so been spent, That he ere this had won the goodly heyre of Kent) And sending to enquire, had newes return'd againe (By such as they imploy'd, on purpose in his traine) How this their only heyre, the Iles emperiall Flood, Had loytered thus in loue, neglectfull of his good.

No maruaile (at the newes) though * 1.1128 Ouse and Tame were sad, More comfort of their sonne expecting to haue had.* 1.1129 Nor blame them, in their looks much sorrow though they show'd: Who fearing least he might thus meanely be bestow'd, And knowing danger still increased by delay, Employ their vtmost power, to hasten him away. But Tames would hardly on: oft turning back to show, From his much loued Mole how loth he was to go.

The mother of the Mole, old * 1.1130 Homesdale, likewise beares* 1.1131 Th'affection of her childe, as ill as they do theirs: Who nobly though deriu'd, yet could haue been content, T'haue matcht her with a Flood, of farre more mean descent. But Mole respects her words, as vaine and idle dreames, Compar'd with that high ioy, to be belou'd of Tames: And head-long holds her course, his company to win. But, Homesdale raised Hills, to keep the straggler in; That of her daughters stay she need no more to doubt: (Yet neuer was there help, but loue could finde it out.) § Mole digs her selfe a Path, by working day and night (According to her name, to shew her nature right) And vnderneath the Earth, for three miles space doth creep: Till gotten out of sight, quite from her mothers keep, Her foreintended course the wanton Nymph doth run; As longing to imbrace old Tame and Isis son.

When Tames now vnderstood, what paines the Mole did take, How farre the louing Nymph aduentur'd for his sake; Although with Medway matcht, yet neuer could remoue The often quickning sparks of his more ancient loue.

So that it comes to passe, when by great Natures guide The Ocean doth returne, and thrusteth-in the Tide; Vp tow'rds the place, where first his much-lov'd Mole was seen, * 1.1132 § He euer since doth flow, beyond delightfull Sheene.

Then Wandal commeth in, the Moles beloued mate, So amiable, faire, so pure, so delicate, So plump, so full, so fresh, her eyes so wondrous cleer: And first vnto her Lord, at Wandsworth doth appeare, That in the goodly Court, of their great soueraigne Tames, There might no other speech be had amongst the Streames, But only of this Nymph, sweet Wandal, what she wore; Of her complection, grace, and how her selfe she bore.

But now this mighty Flood, vpon his voiage prest (That found how with his strength, his beauties still increast, From where, braue Windsor stood on tip-toe to behold The faire and goodly Tames, so farre as ere he could, With Kingly houses Crown'd, of more then earthly pride, Vpon his either Banks, as he along doth glide) With wonderfull delight, doth his long course pursue, Where Otlands, Hampton Court, and Richmond he doth view, Then Westminster the next great Tames doth entertaine; That vaunts her Palace large, and her most sumptuous Fane: The Lands tribunall seate that challengeth for hers, The crowning of our Kings, their famous sepulchers. Then goes he on along by that more beautious Strand, Expressing both the wealth and brauery of the Land. (So many sumptuous Bowres, within so little space, The All-beholding Sun scarse sees in all his race.) And on by London leads, which like a Crescent lies, VVhose windowes seem to mock the Star-befreckled skies; * 1.1133 Besides her rising Spyres, so thick themselues that show, As doe the bristling reeds, within his Banks that growe. There sees his crouded Wharfes, and people-pestred shores, His Bosome ouer-spread, with shoales of labouring ores: VVith that most costly Bridge, that doth him most renowne, * 1.1134 By which he cleerely puts all other Riuers downe.

Thus furnished with all that appertain'd to State, Desired by the Floods (his Greatnes which awayt) That as the rest before, so somewhat he would sing, Both worthy of their praise, and of himselfe their King; A Catalogue of those, the Scepter heer that swayd, The Princely Tames recites, and thus his Song he laid;

As Bastard William first, by Conquest hither came, And brought the Norman Rule, vpon the English name: So with a tedious warre, and almost endlesse toyles, Throughout his troubled raigne, here held his hard-got spoyles.

Deceasing at the last, through his vnsetled State, § Left (with his ill-got Crown) vnnaturall debate. For, dying at his home, his eldest sonne abroad (Who, in the Holy-warre, his person then bestow'd) His second Rufus next vsurpt the wronged raigne: And by a fatall dart, in his New Forrest slaine, Whilst in his proper right religious Robert slept, Through craft into the Throne, the younger Beau-cleark crept. From whom his Scepter, then, whil'st Robert stroue to wrest, The other (of his power that amply was possest) With him in battell ioyn'd: and, in that dreadfull day (Where Fortune shew'd her selfe all humane power to sway) Duke Robert went to wrack; and taken in the flight, § Was by that cruell King depriu'd of his sight, And in close prison put; where miserably he dy'd:

But Henries whole intent was by iust heauen deny'd. For, as of light, and life, he that sad Lord bereft; So his, to whom the Land, he purpos'd to haue left, The * 1.1135 raging Seas deuowr'd, as hitherward they saild.

When, in this Line direct, the Conquerors issue faild, Twixt Henries Daughter Mauld, the Almayne Emperours Bride (Which after to the Earle of Aniou was affi'd) And Stephen Earle of Bloys, the Conquerors Sisters son, A fierce and cruell war immediately begun; Who with their seuerall powers, arriued here from France, By force of hostile Armes, their Titles to aduance. But, Stephen, what by coyne, and what by forraine strength, Through Worlds of danger gain'd the glorious goale at length.

But, left without an heyre, the Empresse issue next, No Title else on foote; vpon so faire pretext, The second Henry soon vpon the Throne was set, (Which Mauld to Ieffrey bare) the first Plantaginet. Who held strong wars with Wales, that his subiection spurn'd: Which oftentimes he beat; and, beaten oft, return'd: VVith his sterne Children vext: who (whil'st he stroue t'aduance His right within this Ile) rays'd war on him in France. With his hie fame in fight, what colde brest was not fir'd? Through all the Westerne world, for wisedome most admyr'd.

Then Richard got the Rule, his most renowned sonne. Whose courage, him the name of Cure De Lion won. VVith those first earthly Gods, had this braue Prince been borne, His darling hand had from Alcides shoulders torne The Nemean Lyon's hyde: who in the Holy-land So dreadfull was, as though from Ioue and Neptunes hand, The thundring three-forkt Fire, and Trident he had reft, And him to rule their charge they only then had left.

Him Iohn againe succeeds; who, hauing put-away Yong Arthur (Richards sonne) the Scepter took to sway. Who, of the common-wealth first hauock hauing made, § His sacrilegious hands vpon the Churches laid, In cruelty and rape continuing out his raigne; That his outrageous lust and courses to restraine, § The Baronage were forc't defensiue Armes to raise, Their daughters to redeeme, that he by force would seise. Which the first Ciuill warre in England here begun. And for his sake such hate his sonne young Henry won, That to depose their Prince, th'reuengefull people thought; And from the Line of France yong Lewes to haue brought, To take on him our Rule: but, Henry got the Throne, By his more forcefull friends: who, wise and puissant growne, § The generall Charter seiz'd: that into slauery drew The freest borne English blood. Of which such discord grew, And in the Barons breasts so rough combustions rais'd, With much expence of blood as long was not appeaz'd, By strong and tedious gusts held vp on either side, Betwixt the Prince and Peeres, with equall power and pride. He knew the worst of warre, matcht with the Barons strong; Yet victor liu'd, and raign'd both happily and long.

This long-liu'd Prince expyr'd: the next succeeded; he, Of vs, that for a God might well related be. Our Long-shanks, Scotlands scourge: who to the Orcads raught His Scepter, and with him from wilde Albania brought The reliques of her Crowne (by him first placed here) § The seat on which her Kings inaugurated were. He tam'd the desperate welsb, that out so long had stood, And made them take * 1.1136 a Prince, sprong of the English blood. This Ile, from Sea to Sea, he generally controld, And made the other parts of England both to holde.

This Edward, first of ours, a second then ensues; Who both his Name and Birth, by loosenes, did abuse: Faire Ganimeds and Fools who rais'd to Princely places; And chose not men for wit, but only for their faces. In parasites and knaues, as he repos'd his trust, Who sooth'd him in his wayes apparantly vniust; For that preposterous sinne wherein he did offend, In his posteriour parts had his preposterous end.

A third then, of that name, amends for this did make: Who from his idle sire seem'd nought at all to take. But as his Grand-sire did his Empires verge aduance: So led he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 his powers, into the heart of France. And fastning on that Right, he by his mother had, Against the Salique law, which vtterly forbad

Their women to enherite; to propagate his Cause, At Cressey with his sword first cancelled those Lawes: Then like a furious storme, through troubled France he ran; And by the hopefull hand of braue Black-Edward wan Proud Poytiers, where King Iohn he valiantly subdew'd, The miserable French and there in mammocks hew'd; Then with his battering Rams made Earth-quakes in their Towres, Till trampled in the dust her felfe she yeelded ours.

As mighty Edwards heyre, to a second Richard then (Son to that famous Prince Black Edward, Man of Men, Vntimely that before his conquering father dy'd) Too soon the Kingdom fell: who his vaine youth apply'd To wantonnesse and spoyle, and did to fauour drawe Vnworthy ignorant sots, with whose dull eyes he sawe: Who plac't their like in Court, and made them great in State (Which wise and vertuous men, beyond all plagues, might hate.) To whom he blindly gaue: who blindly spent againe, And oft opprest his Land, their riot to maintaine. He hated his Allyes, and the deseruing steru'd; His Minions and his will, the Gods he only seru'd: And finally, depos'd, as he was euer friend To Rybaulds, so againe by Villaines had his end.

Henry the Sonne of Gaunt, supplanting Richard, then Ascended to the Throne: when discontented men, Desirous first of change, which to that height him brought, Deceiued of their ends, into his actions sought; And, as they set him vp, assay'd to pluck him down: From whom he hardly held his ill-atchieued Crown; That, Treasons to suppresse which oft he did disclose, And raysing publike Armes, against his powerfull foes, His vsurpation still being troubled to maintaine, His short disquiet dayes scarse raught a peacefull raigne.

A fift succeeds the fourth: but how his father got The Crown, by right or wrong, the Sonne respecteth not. Nor further hopes for that ere leaueth to pursue; But doth his claime to France, courageously renew; Vpon her wealthy shores vn-lades his warlike fraught; And, shewing vs the fields where our braue fathers fought, First drew his sun-bright Sword, reflecting such a light, As put sad guilty France, into so great a fright, That her pale Genius sank; which trembling seem'd to stand, When first he set his foot on her rebellious Land. That all his Grand-sires deeds did ouer, and thereto Those hie atcheeuements adde the former could not doe: At Agincourts proud fight, that quite put Poytiers down; Of all, that time who liv'd, the King of most renowne.

Whose too vntimely end, the Fates too soon did hast: VVhose nine yeares noble acts, nine VVorlds deserue to last.

A sixt in name succeeds, borne great, the mighty sonne Of him, in Englands right that spacious France had wonne. VVho coming young to raigne, protected by the Peeres Vntill his Non-age out: and growne to riper yeeres, Prov'd vpright, soft, and meeke, in no wise louing warre; But fitter for a Cowle, then for a Crowne by farre. Whose mildnes ouer-much, did his destruction bring: A wondrous godly man, but not so good a King. Like whom yet neuer man tri'd fortunes change so oft; So many times throwne-down, so many times aloft (When with the vtmost power, their friends could them afford, The Yorkists, put their right vpon the dint of sword) As still he lost and wonne, in that long bloody warre, § From those two Factions stil'd, of York and Lancaster. But by his foes inforc't to yeeld him to their power, His wretched raigne and life, both ended in the Tower.

Of th'Edwards name the fourth put on the Regall Wreath: Whom furious bloody warre (that seem'd a while to breath) Not vtterly forsooke. For, Henries Queene and heyre (Their once possessed raigne still seeking to repaire) Put forward with their friends, their title to maintaine. Whose blood did Barnets Streets and Teuksburyes distaine, Till no man left to stirre. The Title then at rest, The old Lancastrian Line, being vtterly supprest, Himselfe the wanton King to amourous pleasures gaue; § Yet iealous of his right descended to his Graue.

His Sonne an infant left: who had he liu'd to raigne, Edward the fift had been. But iustly see againe, As he a King and Prince before had cau'd to die (The father in the Tower, the sonne at Teuksbury) So were his children yong, being left to be protected By Richard; who nor God, nor humane lawes respected. This Viper, this most vile deuowrer of his kinde (Whom his ambltious ends had strooke so grosly blind) From their deare mothers lap, them seising for a pray (Himselfe in right the next, could they be made away) Most wrongfully vsurpt, and them in prison kept; Whom cruelly at last he smothered as they slept. As his vnnaturall hands, were in their blood imbru'd: So (guilty in himselfe) with murther he pursu'd Such, on his haynous acts as lookt not faire and right; Yea, such as were not his expresly, and had might T'oppose him in his course; till (as a monster Ioth'd, The man, to hell and death himselfe that had betroth'd)

They brought another in, to thrust that Tyrant down; In battell who at last resign'd both life and Crown.

A seauenth Henry, then, th'emperiall seate attain'd, In banishment who long in Britanne had remain'd, What time the Yorkists sought his life to haue bereft, Of the Lancastrian House then only being left (Deriv'd from Iohn of Gaunt) whom Richmond did beget, § Vpon a daughter borne to Iohn of Sommerset. Elizabeth of York this Noble Prince affi'd, To make his Title strong, thereby on either side. And grafting of the White and Red Rose firme together, Was first, that to the Throne aduanc't the name of Tether. In Bosworths fatall Field, who hauing Richard slaine, Then in that prosperous peace of his successfull raigne, Of all that cuer rul'd, was most precise in State, And in his life and death a King most fortunate.

This Seauenth, that was of ours, the Eightth succeeds in name: Who by Prince Arthurs death (his elder Brother) came Vnto a Land with wealth aboundantly that flow'd: Aboundantly againe, so he the same bestow'd, In Banquets, Mask's, and Tilts, all pleasures prone to try, Besides his secret scapes who lou'd Polygamy. The Abbayes he supprest; a thousand lingring yeere, Which with reuenewes large the World had sought to reare. And through his awfull might, for temporall ends did saue, To other vses earst what frank deuotion gaue; And here the papall power, first vtterly deny'd, Defender of the Faith, that was instil'd and dy'd.

His sonne the Empire had, our Edward sixt that made; Vntimely as he sprang, vntimely who did fade. A Protestant being bred; and in his infant raigne, Th'religion then receiv'd, here stoutly did maintaine: But e're he raught to man, from his sad people reft, His Scepter he againe vnto his Sisters left.

Of which the eldest of two, Queen Mary, mounts the Chaire: The ruin'd Roman State who striuing to repaire, With persecuting hands the Protestants pursew'd; Whose Martyred ashes oft the wondring Streets bestrew'd. She matcht her selfe with Spaine, and brought King Philip hither, Which with an equall hand, the Scepter sway'd togither. But issuless she dy'd; and vnder six yeeres raigne, To her wise Sister gaue the Kingdome vp againe.

Elizabeth, the next, this falling Scepter hent; Digressing from her Sex, with Man-like gouernment This Iland kept in awe, and did her power extend Afflicted France to ayde, her owne as to defend;

Against th'Iberian rule, the Flemmings sure defence: Rude Ireland's deadly scourge; who sent her Nauies hence Vnto the either Inde, and to that shore so greene, Virginia which we call, of her a Virgin Queen: In Portugall gainst Spaine, her English ensignes spred, Took Cales, when from herayde the brav'd Iberia fled. Most flourishing in State: that, all our Kings among, Scarse any rul'd so well: but * 1.1137 two, that raign'd so long. * 1.1138

Here suddainly he staid: and with his kingly Song, Whil'st yet on euery side the City loudly rong, He with the eddy turn'd, a space to look about: The Tide, retiring soon, did strongly thrust him out. And soon the pliant Muse, doth her braue wing aduance, Tow'rds those Sea-bordring shores of ours, that point at France; The harder Surrian Heath, and the Sussexian Downe. Which with so great increase though Nature do not crowne, As many other Shires, of this inuiron'd Ile: Yet on the * 1.1139 Weathers head, when as the sunne doth smile, Nurst by the Southern Winds, that soft and gently blowe, Here doth the lusty sap as soon begin to flowe; The Earth as soon puts on her gaudy Summers sute; The VVoods as soon in green, and orchards great with fruit.

To Sea ward, from the seat where first our Song begun, Exhaled to the South by the ascending sunne, Fower stately VVood Nymphs stand on the Sussexian ground, Great * 1.1140 Andredsweld's sometime: who, when she did abound, * 1.1141 In circuit and in growth, all other quite supprest: But in her wane of pride, as she in strength decreast, Her Nymphs assum'd them names, each one to her delight. As, Water-downe, so call'd of her depressed site: And Ash-Downe, of those Trees that most in her do growe, Set higher to the Downes, as th'other standeth lowe. Saint Leonards, of the seat by which she next is plac't, And Whord that with the like delighteth to be grac't. These Forrests as I say, the daughters of the Weald (That in their heauie breasts, had long their greefs conceal'd) Foreseeing, there decay each howre so fast came on, Vnder the axes stroak, fetcht many a grieuous grone, VVhen as the anuiles weight, and hammers dreadfull sound, Euen rent the hollow VVoods, and shook the queachy ground. So that the trembling Nymphs, opprest through gastly feare, Ran madding to the Downes, with loose dishev'ld hayre. The Syluans that about the neighbouring woods did dwell, Both in the tufty Frith and in the mossy Fell, Forsook their gloomy Bowres, and wandred farre abroad, Expeld their quiet seats, and place of their abode,

When labouring carts they saw to hold their dayly trade, Where they in summer wont to sport them in the shade. Could we, say they, suppose, that any would vs cherish, Which suffer (euery day) the holiest things to perish? Or to our daily want to minister supply? These yron times breed none, that minde posteritie. Tis but in vaine to tell, what we before haue been, Or changes of the world, that we in time haue seen; When, not deuising how to spend our wealth with waste, VVe to the sauage swine, let fall our larding mast. But now, alas, our selues we haue not to sustaine, Nor can our tops suffice to shield our Roots from raine. Ioues Oke, the warlike Ash, veyn'd Elme, the softer Beech, Short Hazell, Maple plaine, light Aspe, the bending Wych, Tough Holly, and smooth Birch, must altogether burne: What should the Builder serue, supplies the Forgers turne; When vnder publike good, base priuate gaine takes holde, And we poore woefull Woods, to ruine lastly solde.

This vttered they with griefe: and more they would haue spoke, But that the enuious Downes, int'open laughter broke; As ioying in those wants, which Nature them had giuen, Sith to as great distresse the Forrests should be driuen. Like him that long time hath anothers state enuy'd, And sees a following Ebbe, vnto his former Tide; The more he is deprest, and bruiz'd with fortunes might, The larger Reane his foe doth giue to his despight: So did the enuious Downes; but that againe the Floods (Their fountaines that deriue, from those vnpittied Woods, And so much grace thy Downes, as through their Dales they creep, Their glories to conuay vnto the Celtick deep) It very hardly tooke, much murmuring at their pride. Cleere Lauant, that doth keep the Southamptonian side (Diuiding it well-neere from the Sussexian lands That Selsey doth suruay, and Solents troubled sands) To Chichester their wrongs impatiently doth tell: § And Arun (which doth name the beautious Arundell) As on her course she came, it to her Forrest tolde. Which, nettled with the newes, had not the power to hold: But breaking into rage, wisht Tempests them might riue; And on their barren scalps, still flint and chauke might thriue, The braue and nobler Woods which basely thus vpbraid. § And Adur comming on, to Shoreham softly said, The Downes did very ill, poore Woods so to debase. But now, the Ouse, a Nymph of very scornefull grace, So touchy waxt therewith, and was so squeamish growne, That her old name she scorn'd should publiquely be knowne.

Whose hauen out of mind when as it almost grew, The lately passed times denominate, the New. So Cucmer with the rest put to her vtmost might: As Ashburne vndertakes to doc the Forrests right (At Pemsey, where she powres her soft and gentler Flood) And Asten once distain'd with natiue English blood: (Whose Soyle, when yet but wet with any little raine, § Doth blush; as put in mind of those there sadly slaine, When Hastings harbour gaue vnto the Norman powers; Whose name and honors now are denizend for ours) That boding ominous Brook, it through the Forrests rung: VVhich ecchoing it againe the mighty Weald along, Great ftirre was like to grow; but that the Muse did charme Their furies, and her selfe for nobler things did arme.

Jllustrations.

AFter your trauailes (thus led by the Muse) through the Inlands, out of the Welsh coast maritime, here are you carried into Surrey and Sussex; the Southerne shires from London to the Ocean: and Thames as K. of all our Riuers, summarily sings the Kings of England, from Norman William to ye∣sterdaies age.

Mole digs her selfe a path, by working day and night.

This Mole runnes into the earth, about a mile from Darking in Surrey, and after some two miles sees the light againe, which to be certaine hath been affirmed by Inhabitants there about reporting triall made of it. Of the Riuer Deuerill neere Warmister in Wilshire is said as much; and more of Alphew, run∣ning out of Elis (a part of the now Morea anciently Peloponnesus in Greece) through the vast Ocean to Arethusa in a little Isle (close by Syracnse of Sictly) call'd Ortygia, and thither thus comming vnmixt with the Sea, which hath been both tried by a a 1.1142 cup, lost in Elis, and other stuff of the Olymptan sacrifices there cast vp, & is iustified also by expresse assertion of an old b 1.1143 Oracle to Ar∣chias, a Corinthian, aduising him he should hither deducea Colony.

—〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉

Likethis, * 1.1144 Pausantas reckons more; c 1.1145 Erasin in Greece, Lycus d 1.1146 that runs into Me∣ander, e 1.1147 Tiger, and diuers others, some remember for such qualitie. And Gaudi∣ana (the antient limit of Portugall and the Baetique Spaine) is specially famous for this forme of subterranean course: which although hath been thought fa∣bulous, yet by some learned and iudicious of that f 1.1148 Country, is put for an vnfai∣nedtruth.

He euer since doth flowe beyond delightfull Sheene.

Moles fall into Thames is neere the vtmost of the Floud, which from the German Ocean, is about LX miles, scarce equalled (I thinke) by any other Riuer in Europe; whereto you may attribute its continuing so long a course, vnlesse to the Diurnall motion of the Heauens, or Moone, from East to West (which hardly in any other Riuer of note falling into so great a Sea, will be

found so agreeable, as to this, flowing the same way) and to the easinesse of the Channell being not ouer creeky, I cannot guesle. I incline to this of the hea∣uens, because such a 1.1149 testimony is of the Oceans perpetuall motion in that kind; and whether it be for frequencie of a winding, and thereby more resi∣sting shore, or for any other reason iudicially not yet discouered, it is certaine, that our coasts are most famous for the greatest differences, by ebbs & flouds, before all other whatsoeuer.

Left with his ill got Crowne vnnaturall debate.

See what the matter of Descent to the IV. Song tels you of his title; yet euen out of his owne mouth as part of his last will and testament, these words are re∣ported; b 1.1150 I Constitute no heire of the Crowne of England: but to the vniuersall Creator, whose I am, and in whose hand are all things, I commendit. For I had it not by inheritance, but, with direfull conflict, and much effusion of bloud; I tooke it from that periur'd Harold, and by death of his fauorites, haue I subdu'd it to my Empire. And somewhat after: Therfore I dare not bequeath the scepter of this kingdome to any but to God alone, least after my death worse troubles happen in it, by my Occasion. For my sonne William (alwaies, as it became him, obedient to me) I wish that God may giue him his graces, and that, if so it please the Almighty, * 1.1151 he may raigne after me. This William the II. (called Rufus) was his second sonne, Robert his eldest hauing vpon discontent (taken because the Dukedome of Normandie, then as it were by birth-right, neerly like the principality of Wales, anciently, or Dutchy of Cornwall at this day, belonging to our Kings Heires apparant, was denied him) reuolted vnnaturally, and moued war against him, aided by Philip I. of France, which caused his merited dishinheritance. Twixt this William and Robert, as also twixt him and Henry I. all brothers (and soris to the Conqueror) were diuers oppositions for the Kingdom and Dukedom, which here the Author allu'des to. Our stories in euery hand informe you: And will dicouer also the Conquerors adoption by the Confessor, Harolds oth to him, and such institutions of his lawfull title enforst by a case c 1.1152 reported of one English, who, deriuing his right from Seisin before the Conquest, reco∣uered by iudgement of K. William I. the Mannor of Sharborn in Norfolk a∣gainst one Warren a Norman to whom the King had before granted it: which had been vniust, it he had by right of warre only gotten the kingdom; for then had d 1.1153 all titles, of subiects before, been vtterly extinct. But, (admit this case as you please, or any cause of right beside his sword) It is plaine that his will and imperious affection (mou'd by their rebellions which had stood for the sworne Harold) dispos'd all things as a Conqueror: Vpon obseruation of his subiection of all Lands to tenures, his change of Lawes, disinheriting the Eng∣lish, and such other reported (which could be but where the profitable Domi∣nion, as Ciuillians call it, was vniuersally acquired into the Princes hand) and in reading the disgracefull account then made of the English name, it will be manifest.

Who by a fatall dart in vast New Forest slaine.

His death by an infortunate loosing at a Dear out of one Walter Tirrels hand in New Forest, his brother Richard being blasted there with infectiō, & Richard, * 1.1154 Duke Roberts Sonne, hauing his neck broken there in a boughs twist catching him from his horse, haue been thought as diuine reuenges on William the first, who destroy'd in Hantshire XXXVI. parish Churches to make dens for wild beasts; although its probable enough, that it was for security of landing new forces there, if the wheele of fortune, or change of Mars, should haue dispossest him of the English Crovvne. Our Stories vvill of these things

better instruct you: but, if you seek Matthew Paris for it, amend the absurdity of both the London and Tigurin Prints in An. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. LXXXVI. and for Rex * 1.1155 magnificus & bonae indolis Adolescens; read, Rich. magnificus &c. for Richard bro∣ther to this Red William

Was by that cruell King depriued of his sight.

Thus did the Conquerors Posterity vnquietly possesse their Fathers inheri∣tance. William had much to do with his brother Robert, iustly grudging at his vsurping the Crowne from right of Primogeniture; but so much the lesse, in that Robert with diuers other German and French Princes left all priuate re∣spects for the Holy warre, which after the Crosse vndertaken (as those times v∣sed) had most fortunate successe in Recouery of Palestine. Robert had no more but the Dutchy of Normandy, nor that without swords often drawne, before his Holy expedition: about which (hauing first offer of, but refusing the King∣dome of Ierusalem) after he had some V. yeeres been absent, he returned into England, finding his younger brother (Henry I. ) exalted into his hereditarie throne. For, although it were vndoubtedly agreed that Robert was eldest son of the Conqueror; yet the pretence which gaue Henry the Crowne (beside the meanes of his working fauorites) was, that * 1.1156 he was the only Issue borne after his Father was a King: vpon which point a great question is disputed among f 1.1157 Ciuilians. Robert was no sooner return'd into Normandy, but presently (first animated by Randall, Bishop of Durham, a great disturber of the common peace twixt the Prince and subiect by intolerable exactions & vnlimited iniu∣stice vnder William II. whose * 1.1158 chief Iustice it seems he was, newly escaped out of prison (whither for those state-misdemeanors he was committed by Henry) he dispatches & enterchāges intelligēce with most of the Baronage, claiming his Primogeniture-right, & therby the kingdom. Hauing thus gain'd to him most of the English Nobility, he lands with forces at Portesmouth, thence marching towards Winchester: but before any encounter the two Brothers were perswa∣ded to a Peace; Couenant was made and confirmed by oth of XII. Barons, on both parts, that Henry should pay him yeerly 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. pounds of siluer, and that the suruiuor of them should inherit, the other dying without islue. This Peace, vpon denial of paiment (which had the better colour, because, at request of Q. Maude, the Duke prodigally released his 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. pounds the next yeere after the Couenant) was soone broken. The K. (to preuent what mischief might follow a second arriuall of his brother) assisted by the greatest fauours of Normandy and Aniou, besieged Duke Robert in one of his Castles, took him, brought him home Captiue, and at length vsing that course (next secure to death) so often red of in Choniates Cantucuzen, and other Orientall stories, put out his eyes, being all this time imprisoned in Cardiffe Castle in Glamorgan, where he miserably breathed his last. It is by Polydore added, out of some au∣thoritie, that K. Henry after a few yeers imprisonment released him, and com∣manded that within XL. daies and 12. houres (these houres haue in them time of two Flouds, or a Floud and an Ebb) he should, abiuring England and Nor∣manay, passe the seas as in perpetuall Exile; and that in the meane time, vpon new Treasons attempted by him, he was secondly committed, and endured his punishment and death as the common Monks relate. I find no warrantable authority that makes me beleeue it: Yet, because it giues some kind of ex∣ample of our Obsolet law of Abiuration (which it seems had its beginning frō one of the statutes published vnder name of the Confessor) a word or two of the time prescribed here for his passage: which being examined vpon Brac∣tons credit, makes the report therein faulty. For he seems confident that the

XL. daies in abiuration, were afterward induced vpon the statute of * 1.1159 Clarindon, which gaue the accused of Felony, or Treason although quitted by the Ordell (that is iudgmēt by Water or Fire, but the Satute published, speaks only of Wa∣ter, being the common triall of meaner a 1.1160 persons) XL. daies to passe out of the Realme with his substance, which to other Felons taking sanctuary & confes∣sing to the Coroner, he affirms not grantable; although Iohn le 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is against him, giuing this liberty of time, accounted after the abiuration to be spent in the Sanctuary, for prouision of their voiage necessaries, after which complete, no man, on paine of life & Member, is to supply any of their wants. I know it a point very intricat to determine, obseruing these opposite Authors and no ex∣presse resolution. Since them, the Oth of Abiuration published among our Manuall Statutes neerly agrees with this of Duke Robert, but with neither of those old Lawyers. In it, after the Felon confesses, and abiures, and hath his Port appointed; I will (proceeds the Oth) diligently endeuor to passe ouer at that Port, and will, not delaie time there aboue a Floud, and an Ebb, if I may haue passage in that space; if not, I will euery day goe into the Sea vp to the knees, as∣saying to go ouer, and vnlesse I may do this within Fortie continuall daies I will re∣turne to the Sanctuarie, as a Felon of our Lord the King; So God mee help, &c. So here the XL. dayes are to be spent about the passage and not in the Sanc∣tuarie: Compare this with other b 1.1161 authorities, and you shall find all so disso∣nant, that Reconciliation is impossible, Resolution very difficult. I only offer to their consideration, which can here iudge, why Hubert de Burch (Earle of Kent, and chiefe Iustice of England vnder Hen. III.) hauing incurr'd the Kings high displeasure, and grieuously persecuted by great Enemies, taking Sanctuarie, was, after his being violently drawn out, restored; yet that the She∣riffes, of Hereford and Essex, were commanded to ward him there, and preueut all sustenance to be brought him, which they did, decernentes c 1.1162 ibi X L. Dic∣rum excubijs obseruare: And whether also the same reason (now vnknown to vs) bred this XL. daies for expectation of embarquement out of the king∣dome, which gaue it in an other kind for retorne? as in case of Disseisin, the law hath d 1.1163 bin that the Disseisor could not reenter without action, vnles he had as it were made a present and Continuall Claime, yet if he had been out of the Kingdome in single Pilgrimage (that is not in generall voiages to the Holy∣land) or in the Kings seruice in France, or so, he had allowance of XL. daies. II. Flouds, and I. Ebb, to come home in, and XV. daies, and fowre dayes, after his return; and if the tenant had been so beyond Sea he might haue been Essoin'd de vltra Mare, and for a yeere and a day, after which he had XL. daies, One Floud, and one Ebb (which is easily vnderstood as the other for two Flouds) to come into England. This is certaine that the space of XL. dayes (as a yeere and a day) hath had with vs diuers applications, as in what before, the Assise of Freshforce in Cities and Boroughs, and the Widowes Quaren∣tine, which seems to haue had beginning either of a deliberatiue time gran∣ted to her, to think of her conueniencie in taking letters of administration, as in an other e 1.1164 Country the reason of the like is giuen; or else from the XL. daies in the essoine of Child-birth allowed by the Norman Customs. But you mis∣like the digression. It is reported that when William the Conqueror in his death∣bed, left Normandie to Robert, and England to William the Red, this Henry askt him what he would giue him, 〈◊〉〈◊〉. pounds of siluer (saith he) and be contented my sonne; for, in time, thou shalt haue all which I possesse, and be greater then 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of thy brethren.

His sacrilegious hands vpon the Churches laid.

The great controuersie about electing the Arch-bishop of Canterbury (the K. as his right bad him, commanding that Iohn Bishop of Norwich should

haue the Prelacie, the Pope, being Innocent III. for his owne gaine. aided with some disloyall Monks of Canterbury, desiring, and at last consecrating Ste∣phen of Langton a Cardinal) was first cause of it. For K. Iohn would by no means endure this Stephen, nor permit him the dignity after his vniust Election at Rome, but banished the Moonks and stoutly menaces the Pope. Hee presently makes delegation to William Bishop of London, Eustace of Ely, and Malgere of Worcester, that they should, with monitory aduice, offer perswasion to the K. of conformity to the Romish behest; if hee persisted in Constancy, they should denounce England vnder an interdict. The Bishops tell K. Iohn as much, who suddenly, mov'd with imperious affection & scorn of Papal vsurpation, swears, * 1.1165 by Gods tooth, if they or any other, with vnaduised attempt, subiect his Kingdome to an interdict, hee would presently driue euery Prelate, and Priest of England to the Pope, and confiscat all their substance, and of all the Romans amongst them, hee would first pull out their eyes, and cut off their noses, and then send then all packing, vvith other like threatning tearmes, which notwithstanding were not able to cause them desist; but within little time following in publique denuntia∣tion they performed their authority; and the King, in som sort, his threatnings; committing all Abbeyes and Priories, to Lay mens custodie, and compelling euery Priests Concubine to a grieuous fine. Thus for a while continued the Realme without diuine 〈◊〉〈◊〉 or Exercise, excepted only Confession, Ex∣treame vnction, and Baptisme; the King being also excommunicated and burials allowed onely in high-waies, and ditches without Ecclesiastique Ce∣remonie, & (but only by indulgence procur'd by Archbishop Langton which purcha'st fauor that in all the Monasteries, excepting of White-Friers, might be diuine seruice once a week) had no change, for some IV. or V. yeers, when the Pope in a solemn Councell of Cardinals, according to his pretended plenary power, depos'd K. Iohn, and immediatly by his Legat Pandulph offered to Phi∣lip II. of France the kingdom of England. This with suspicion of the subiects heart at home, and another cause then more esteemed then either of these, that is, the prophecie of one Peter an Hermit in Yorkshire foretelling to his face that before Holy-Thursday following he should be no King, altered his stiffe, and re∣solute, but too disturbed affections; and perswaded him by Oth of himself and XVI. more of his Barons, to make submission to the church of Rome, & condis∣cended to giue for satisfaction, 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. pounds sterling (that name of Sterling f 1.1166 began, as I am instructed, in time of Hen. II. and had its Originall of name from som Esterling, making that kind of mony, which hath its essence in particular weight, & finenesse, not of the Starling bird, as som, nor of Sterlin in Scotland vnder Ed. I. as others absurdly; for in g 1.1167 records much more anci∣ent the expresse name Sterlingorū I hauered) to the Clergie, and subiect h 1.1168 all his dominions to the Pope; and so had absolution, and after more then IV. yeers release of the Interdict. I was the willinger to insert it all, because you might see what iniurious opposition, by Papall vsurpation, he 〈◊〉〈◊〉; and then coniec∣ture that his violent dealings against the church were not without intolerable prouocatiō, which madded rather then amended his trobled spirits. Easily you shal not find a Prince more beneficial to the holy cause then he if you take his i 1.1169 〈◊〉〈◊〉 part of raigne, before this ambitious Stephen of Langtons election exas∣perated desire of reuenge. Most kind habitude then was twixt him & the Pope, and for alms toward Ierusalems aid he gaue the XL. part of his reuenew, & cau∣sed his Baronage to secōd his example. Although therfore he 〈◊〉〈◊〉 no waies ex∣cusable of many of those faults, both in gouernment & religion which are laid on him, yet it much extenuats the ill of his action, that he was so besieged with continuall & vndigestable incentiues of the Clergy with traiterous confidence striking at his Crown, & in such sort, as humanity must haue exceeded itselfe,

to haue indured it with any mixture of patience. Nor euer shall I impute that his wicked attempt of sending Ambassadors, Thomas Hardington, Ralish Fitz-Nicholas, and Robert of London, to Amiramuily, King of Morocco, for the Mabometan Religion, so much to his owne will and Nature, as to the persecu∣ting Bulls, Interdicts, Excommunications, Deposings, and such like, publi∣shed & acted by them which counterfeiting the vaine name of Pastors, sheere∣ing, and not feeding their Sheep, made this poore King (for they brought him so poore, that he was call'd * 1.1170 Iohannes sine terra) euen as a Phrenetique, co∣mit what posterity receiues now among the worst actions (and in themselues they are so) of Princes.

His Baronage were forc't defensiue Armes to raise.

No sooner had Bandulph, transacted with the King, and Stephen of Lang∣ton was quietly possest of his Archbishoprique, but he presently, in a Coun∣cell of both Orders at Pauls, stirs vp the hearts of the Barons against Iohn, by producing the old Charter of liberties granted by Hen. I. comprehending an instauration of S. Edwards lawes, as they were amended by the Conqueror, and prouoking them to challenge obseruation therof as an absolute dutie to subiects of free State. He was easily heard, and his thoughts seconded with rebellious designes: and after denials of this purpos'd request, armies were mustred to extort these Liberties. But at length by treaty in Ruingned neere * 1.1171 Stanes, he gauethem two Charters; the one, of Liberties generall, the other of the Forest: both which were not very different from our Graund Charter of the Forrest. The Pope at his request confirmed all: but the same yeere, discon∣tentment * 1.1172 (through too much fauour and respect giuen by the King to diuers strangers, whom since the composition with the Legate, he had too frequently, and in too high esteeme entertained) renewing among the Barons, Ambassa∣dors were sent to aduertise the Pope what iniury the Sea of Rome had by this late Exaction of such liberties out of a Kingdome, in which it had such great interest (for King Iohn had been very prodigall to it, of his best and most maiesticall Titles) and with what commotion the Barons had rebeld against him, soon obtain'd a Bull cursing in Thunder all such as stood for any longer maintenance of those granted Charters: This (as how could it be otherwise?) bred new but almost incurable broiles in the State twixt King and subiect: But in whom more, then in the Pope and his Archbishop, was cause of this dis∣sension? Both, as wicked Boutefeus applying themselues to both parts; som∣times animating the subiect by censorious exauthorizing the Prince, then as∣sting and mouing forward his pronenesse, to faithless abrogation, by pretence of an interceding vniuersall authority.

The generall Charter seiz'd—

The last note somewhat instructs you in what you are to remember, that is, the Grand Charters granted and (as matter of fact was) repealed by K. Iohn; his sonne Henry III. of some IX. yeeres age (vnder protection first of William * 1.1173 Mareshall Earle of Penbroke, after the Earles death, Peter de Rodes Bishop of Winchester) in the ninth yeere of his raigne, in a Parliament held at Westmin∣ster desired of the Baronage (by mouth of Hubert de Burch proposing it) a Fifteene: whereto vpon deliberation, they gaue answere, * 1.1174 quòd Regis Petitio∣nibus gratantèr adquiescerent siillis diùpetit as Libertates concedere voluisset. The King agreed to the Condition, and presently vnder the great seale deliuered Charters of them into euery county of England, speaking as those of K. Iohn

(saith Paris) * 1.1175 it a quod Chartae vtrorúm{que} Regum in nullo inueniuntur dissimiles. Yet those, which we haue, published want of that which is in K. Iohns, wherin you haue a speciall Chapter that, if a lewes debtor die, and leaue his heire with∣in age subiect to paiment, the Vsury during the nonage should cease, which explaines the meaning of the Statut of Merton Chap. V. Otherwise but ill in∣terpreted in some of our yeere g 1.1176 books: After this, followes further, that no Aide, except, to redeem the Kings person out of Captiuity (example of that was in Richard I. whose Ransome, out of the hands of Leopeld Duke of Austria, was neere 〈◊〉〈◊〉. pounds of siluer, collected from the subiect) make his eldest sonne Knight, or marry his eldest daughter, should be leuied of the subiect, but by Parliament. Yet, reason, why these are omitted in Hen. III. his Charter, it seems, easily may be giuen; seeing X. yeeres before time of Edward Long∣shanks exemplification (which is that wheron we now rely, and only haue) all Iewes were banished the kingdome: and among the Petitions, and Grieuances of the Commons at time of his instauration of this Charter to them, one was thus consented to; * 1.1177 Nullum Tallagium vel Auxilium, per nos vel Heredes nostros de caetero in regno nostro imponatur seuleuetur sine voluntate & Consensu commu∣ni Archiepiscoporum, Episcoporum, Abbatum & aliorum Praelatorum, Comitum, Baronum, Militum, Burgensium, & aliorum liberorum hominum: which al∣though compar'd with that of Aides by Tenure, bee no law, yet I coniecture that vpon this article was that Chapter of Aides omitted. But I returne to Hen∣ry: He, within some three yeeres, summons a Parliament to Oxford, and de∣clares his full age, refusing any longer Peter de Roches his Protection; but ta∣king all vpon his personalll gouernment, by pretence of past nonage, caused all the Charters of the Forrest to be cancell'd, and repeal'd the rest, (for so I take it, although my Author speake chiefly of that of the Forest) and made the subiect with price of great sums, rated by his chiefe Iustice Hugh de Burch, renew their liberties, affirming that his grant of them was in his Minority, and therefore so defesible: which, with its like (in disenheriting and seising on his Subiects possessions, without Iudiciall course, beginning with those two great Potentates Richard Earle of Cornewall, his brother, and William le Mar∣shall Earle of Pembrooke) bred most intestine trouble twixt him and his Ba∣rons, although sometime discontinued, yet not extinguisht euen till his de∣clining dayes of enthroned felicity. Obserue among this, that where our Historians and Chronologers, talke of a desire by the Baronage, to haue the Constitutions of Oxford restored, you must vnderstand those Charters can∣celled at Oxford; where after many rebellious, but prouoked, oppositions the King at last, by oath of himselfe and his sonne Edward, in full Parliament h 1.1178 (hauing neuerthelesse oft times before made show of as much) Granted a∣gaine their desired freedome: which in his spacious raigne, was not so much impeacht by himselfe, as through ill Counsell of Alien caterpillers crauling about him, being as seourges then sent ouer into this Kingdome. But Robert of Glocester shall summarily tell you this, and giue your Palate variety.

The meste wo that here bel bi king Henries day In this lond Icholle biginne to tell puf Ich may. He adde i 1.1179 thre Brethren that is Modres sons were And the k 1.1180 King of Almaine the berthe that to hcie them here, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 William de Valence and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 l 1.1181 Eimer thereto, Elit of Wincetre and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Guy de Lisewi also Thoru hom and thoru the m 1.1182 Duene was so much Frenss folc i brought That of English men me told as right nought, And the King hom let her will that each was as King And nome pouce men god, and ne paiede nothing.

To ent of this brethren yul ther pletnide eny wight 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sede, yul we doth ou wrong, wo isall ou do right: As wo seith we both kings, ur wille we mowe do, And many Englisse alas hulde mid hom also. So that thorou Godes grace the Crles at last, And the Bishops of the lond, and Barons bespeake baste, That the kind Englissemen of Londe hii wolde out caste, And that long bring adoun, yul her poer laste. Therof d 1.1183 hii nome conseil, and to the King hii send, To e 1.1184 abbe pite of his lond and suiche manners amende. So ther at laste hii brought him therto To make a Durueiance amendment to do, And made it was at Oxenford, that lond bor to seyfe, Tuelfhundred as in yer of Grace and fifty and eyghte, Kight aboute Missonier fourtene night it laste The Crles and the Barons were well t 1.1185 stude baste 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to amendi that Lond as the Crle of Gloucetre, Sir Richard, and sir Simond Crle of Leicetre And sir Iohn le Fiz-Geffry and other Barons inowe So that at last the K. therto hii drowe, To remue the Frensse men to g 1.1186 libbe beyonde se Bi hor londs her and ther and ne come noght h 1.1187 age. And to granti i 1.1188 god lawes and the Old Charter also That so ofte was igranted er, and so ofte vndo. Hereof was the Chartre imade and aseled bast there Of the King and of other heye men that there were: Tho nome k 1.1189 tende tapers the Bishops in hor hond And the K. hunselfe and other heye men of the lond, The Bishops l 1.1190 amansed all that there agon were And euer est vndude the lawes that doked nere there, Mid berninge taperes; and suth as laste, The King and others seide Amen and the Tapers aboun casse.

If particulars of the storie, with precedents and consequents, be desired, a∣boue all I send you to Matthew Paris, and William Rishanger, and end in ad∣ding that this so controuerted Charters had not their set led suretie vntill Ed. I. Since whom they haue been more then XXX. times, in Parliament con∣firmed.

The seate on which her Kings inaugorated were.

VVhich is the Chaire and stone at Westminster, whereon our Soueraignes are inaugurated. The m 1.1191 Scottish stories (on whose credit, in the first part here∣of, I importune you not to relie) affirme that the Stone was first in Gallicia of Spaine at Brigantia (whether that be Compostella, as Francis Tarapha wills, or Coronna as Florian delCampo coniectures, or Betansos according to Maria∣na, I cannot determine) where Gathel, King of Scots there, sate on it as his throne: Thence was it brought into Ireland by Simon Brech first K. of Scots transplanted into that Isle, about DCC. yeeres before Christ: Out of Ireland K. Ferguze (in him by some, is the beginning of the now continuing Scot∣tish raigne) about CCC. LXX. yeeres afterward, brought it into Scotland, K. Kenneth some DCCC. L. of the Incarnation, placed it at the Abbey of Scone (in the Shrifdome of Perth) where the Coronation of his successors was vsuall, as of our Monarch's now at Westminster, and in the Saxon times at Kingston vpon Thames. This Kenneth, some say, first caus'd that Distich to be ingrauen on it.

Ni fallat Fatum, Scoti, quocún{que} locatum Inuenient lapidem, Regnare tenentur ibidem.

(Whereupon its call'd * 1.1192 Fatale marmor in Hector Boetius) and inclos'd it in a woden Chaire. It is now at Westminster, and on it are the Coronations of our Soueraignes; thither first brought (as the Author here speaks) among infinit other spoiles, by Edward Longshanks after his warres and victories against K. * 1.1193 Iohn Balliol.

Their women to enherite—

So they commonly affirme: but that deniall of soueraignty to their women cost the life of many thousands of their men, both vnder this victorious Ed∣ward, and his sonne the Black Prince, and other of his successors. His case stood briefely thu': Philip IV. surnamed the Faire, had issue III. sonnes, Lewes * 1.1194 the * 1.1195 Contentious, Philip the Long, and Charles the Faire, (All these successiuely raign'd after him, and died without issue inheritable:) he had likewise a daugh∣ter Isabell (I purposely omit the other, being out of the present matter,) ma∣ried to Edward II. and so was mother to Edward III. The issue male of Philip the Faire thus failing, Philip sonne and heire of Charles Earle of Valois, Beaumont, Alenson, &c. (which was brother to Philip the Faire,) challenged the Crowne of France as next heire male against this Edward, who answered to the obiecti∣on of the Salique law, that (admitting it as their assertion was, yet) he was Heire Male although descended of a daughter: and in a publique assembly of the Estates first about the Protectorship of the womb, (for, Queen Ione Dowager of the Faire Charles, was left with childe, but afterward deliuered of a daughter, Blanch, afterwards Durches of Orleans) was this had in solemne disputation by Lawiers on both sides, and applied at length also to the direct point of enhe∣riting the Crowne. What followed vpon iudgement giuen against his Right, the valiant and famous deeds of him and his English, recorded in Walsingham, Froissart, AEmilius, and the multitude of later collected stories make mani∣fest. But for the Law it selfe; euery mouth speaks of it, few I thinke vnder∣stand at all why they name it. The opinions are, that it being part of the an∣cient Lawes made among the Salians (the same with Franks) vnder King Pha∣ramond about 〈◊〉〈◊〉. CC. yeares since, hath thence denomination; and, Goro∣pius (that fetches all out of Dutch, and more tolerably perhaps this then ma∣ny other of his Etymologies) deriuing the Salians name from Sal, which in contraction he makes from k 1.1196 * 1.1197 Sadel (Inuentors where of the Franks, saith he, were) interprets them, as it were, Horsemen, a name fitly applied to the warlike and most Noble of any Nation, as l 1.1198 Chiualers in French, and Equites in Latine allowes likewise. So that, vpon collection, the Salique law by him is as much as a Chiualrous law, and Salique land m 1.1199 quae ad equestris Ordinis Dignitatem & in Capite summo, & in caeteris membris conseruandam pertinebat: which verie wel agrees with a n 1.1200 sentence giuen in the Parliament at Burdeux vpon an anci∣ent Testament deuising all the Testators Salique lands, which was, in point of iudgement, interpreted o 1.1201 Fief. And who knows not, that Fiefs, were Originally, military gifts. But then, if so, how coms Salique to extend to the Crown, which is meerly without Tenure? Therfore p 1.1202 Egoscio (saith a later q 1.1203 Lawyer) legem sa∣licam agere de Priuato Patrimonio tantùm. It was compos'd (not this alone, but with others as they say) by Wisogast, Bodogast, Salogast, and Windogast, wise Counsellers about that Pharamunds raigne. The text of it in this part is offe∣red vs by Claude de Seissell Bishop of Marsilles, Bodin, and diuers others of

the French, as it were as ancient as the Origine of the name, and in these words * 1.1204 De Terra Salica nulla Portio Haereditas Mulieri veniat, sed advirilem sexum Tota terrae Hereditas perueniat, and insubstance, as referr'd to the person of the Kings heire female; so much is remembred by that great Ciuilian h 1.1205 Baldus, and diuers others, but rather as Custome then any particular law, as one i 1.1206 of that kingdome also hath expresly and newly written; Ce n'est point vne loy é∣critte, mais nee auec nous, que nous n'auons point inuentee, mais l'auons puisse de la nature méme, qui le nous a ainsi apris & donné cet instinct; But why, the same author dares affirme that King Edward yeelded vpon this point to the French Philip de Valois, I wonder, seeing all storie & carriage of state in those times is so manifestly opposite. Becanus vndertakes a coniecture of the first cause which excluded Gynaecocracie among them, guessing it to bevpon their obser∣uation of the misfortune in warre, which their neighbours the Bructerans (a people about the now Ouer Issel in the Netherlands, from neere whom he as many other first deriue the Franks) endur'd in time of Uespasian, vnder Conduct & Empire of one k 1.1207 Velleda, a Lady euen of Diuine esteeme amongst them. But howsoeuer the law be in truth, or interpretable, (for it might ill beseeme me to offer determination in matter of this kind) it is certaine, that to this day, they haue an vse of ancient l 1.1208 time which commits to the care of some of the greatest Peers, that they, when the Queene is in Child-birth, be present, and warily obserue lest the Ladies priuily should counterfeit the enheritable Sex, by supposing some other made when the true Birth is femall, or, by anie such means, wrong their ancient Custom Roiall, as of the Birth of this present Lewes the XIII. on the last of September, in 〈◊〉〈◊〉. DC. I. is, after other such remembred.

Of these two factions stil'd, of Yorke and Lancaster.

Briefly their beginning was thus. Edward the III. had VII. sonnes, Edward the Black Prince, William of Hatfeild, Lionel D. of Clarence, Iohn of Gaunt * 1.1209 D. of Lancaster, Edmund of Langley D. of Yorke, Thomas of Woodstocke, and William of Windsor, in prerogatiue of birth as I name them. The Black Prince died in life of his Father, leauing Richard of Burdeux (afterward the II.) Wil∣liam of Hatfield died without issue; Henry D. of Lancaster (sonneto Iohn of Gaunt the fourth brother) deposed Richard the II. and to the V. and VI. of his name left the kingdome descending in right line of the family of Lancaster. On the other side, Lionel D. of Clarence the third Brother had only issue Philip a daughter maried to Edmund Mortimer, Earle of March (who vpon this title was designed Heire apparant to Rich. II.) Edmund, by her had Roger; to Roger wasissue II. sonnes, and II. daughters: but all died without posteritie, excep∣ting Anne; through her married to Richard Earle of Cambridge, sonne to Ed∣mund of Langley was conueied (to their Issue Richard D. of Yorke Father to K. Eward IV.) that right which Lionel (whose heire she was) had before the rest of that Royall stemm. So that Lancaster deriued it selfe from the IV. brother; Yorke, from the bloud of the III. & V. vnited. And in time of the VI. Hen∣rie was this fatall and enduring miserie ouer England, about determination of these titles, first conceiued in XXX. of his raign by Richard D. of York, whose sonne Ed. IV. deposed Henry some IX. yeeres after; and hauing raigned neer like space, was also, by readoption of Henry, depriu'd for a time, but restored and died of it possest, in whose family it continued vntill after death of Rich. III. Henry Earle of Richmond, and Heire of Lancaster marrying Elizabeth the Heire of York made that happy vnion. Some haue referr'd the vtmost m 1.1210 roote of the Lancastrian title to Edmund, indeed eldest sonne to Hen. III. but that by

reason of his vnfit deformitie, his younger brother Edward had the successi∣on, which is absurd and false. For, onewhom I beleeue before most of our * 1.1211 Monks, and the K^s. Chronologer of those times, Matthew Paris, tells expresly the daies and yeeres of both their births, and makes Edward aboue IIII. yeers * 1.1212 elder then Crook-back. All these had that most honor'd surname x 1.1213 Plantage∣nest; which hath bin extinct among vs euer since Margaret Countesse of Sa∣lisbury (daughter to George Plantagenet D. of Clarence) was beheaded in the Tower. By reason of Iohn of Gaunts deuice being a Red Rose, & Edmund of Langleys a white Rose, these two factions afterward, as for Cogniseanes of their descent and inclinations, were by the same Flowers distinguisht

Yet iealous of his right descended to his graue.

So iealous, that towards them of the Lancastrian faction, nought but death (as, there, reason of State was inough) was his kindnesse. Towards strangers, whose slipping words were in wrested sense, seeming interpretable to his hurt, how he carried himselfe, the Relations of Sir Iohn Markham, his chief lustice, Thomas Burdet an Esquire of Warwickshire, and some Citizens; for idle spee∣ches are testimonie. How to his owne bloud in that miserable end of his bro∣ther George, D. of Clarence, is shewed: Whose death hath diuers reported cau∣ses, as our late Chroniclers tell you. One is supppos'd vpon a prophecie forspeaking that Edwards successors name should begin with G; which made him suspect this George (a kind of superstition not exampled, as I now remem∣ber; * 1.1214 among our Princes; but in proportion very frequent in the Orientall Em∣pire, as passages of the names in Alexius, Manuel, & others, discouer in Nicetas Choniates) and many more serious, yet insufficient faults (tasting of Richard D. of Glocesters practices) are laid to his charge. Let Polydore, Hall, and the rest disclose them. But of his death, I cannot omit, what I haue newly seene. You know, it is commonly affirm'd, that he was drown'd in a hogs-head of Malm∣sey at the Tower. One, a 1.1215 that very lately would needs disswade men from drink∣ing healths to their Princes, Friends, and Mistresses, as the fashion is a Batche∣lor of Diuinity and Professor of Story and Greeke at Cologne, in his diuision of Drunken natures, makes one part of them, b 1.1216 Qui in balaenas mutari cuperent, dummodo mare in generosissimum vinum transformaretur, and for want of an other example, dares deliuer, that, such a one was George c 1.1217 Earl of Clarence, who, when, for suspicion of Treason, he was iudged to die, by his brother Edward IV. and had election of his forme of death giuen him made choise to be drowned in Malm∣sey. First, why he cals him Earle of Clarence, I beleeue not all his Profest Histo∣rie can iustifie; neyther indeed was euer among vs any such Honor. Earles of d 1.1218 Clare long since were: but the title of Clarence began when that Earledome was conuerted into a Dukedome by creation of Lionell (who married with the heire of the Clares) Duke of Clarence. III. sonne to Ed. III. since whom neuer haue beene other then Dukes, of that Dignity. But, vnto what I should impute this vnexcusable iniury to the dead Prince, vnles to Icarius shadow, dazling the writers eyes, or Bacchus his reuengefull causing him to slip in matter of his owne Profession, I know not. Our Stories make the death, little better then a tyrannous murder, priuily committed without any such election. If he haue o∣ther Authority for it, I would his margine had bin so kinde, as to haue impar∣ted it.

Vpon a Daughter borne to Iohn of Somerset.

Iohn of Gaunt, D. of Lancaster, had issue by Catharine Swinford, Iohn of Beu∣fort

Earle of Somerset, and Marques Dorset: To him succeeded his second son, Iohn (Henry the eldest dead) and was created first D. of Somerset by Hen. V. Of this Iohns Ioines was Margaret, Mother to Henry VII. His Father was Ed∣mund of Hatham (made Earle of Richmond, by Hen. VI.) sonne to Owen Tyd∣dour (deriuing himself from the British Cadwallader) by his wife Q. Catherine, Dowager to Hen. V. and hence came that royally ennobled name of Tyddour, which in the late Queene of happy memory ended.

Defender of the Faith—

When amongst those turbulent commotions of Lutherans and Romanists vnder Charles V. such oppositions increased, that the Popes three Crownes e∣uen tottered at such Arguments as were published against his Pardons, Masse, Monastique profession, and the rest of such doctrine; This K. Henry (that Lu∣ther * 1.1219 might want no sorts of Antagonists) wrote particularly against him in Defence of Pardons, the Papacie, and of their VII. Sacraments: of which is yet remaining the Originall in the g 1.1220 Vatican at Rome, and with the Kings own hand thus inscribed,

* 1.1221 Anglorum Rex, HENRICVS, LEONI X. mittit hoc Opus, & Fidei testem * 1.1222 & Amicitiae.

Hereupon, this Leo sent him the title of * 1.1223 Defender of the faith: which was, as Ominous to what ensu'd. For towards the XXV. yeere of his raigne, he began so to examine their Traditions, Doctrine, Liues, and the numerous faults of the corrupted Time, that he was indeed founder of Reformation for Inducement of the true ancient faith: which by his Sonne Edward VI. Q. E∣LIZABETH, and our present Soueraigne hath been to this day piously esta∣blished and Defended.

To ease your conceit of these Kings here sung, I adde this Chronologie of them.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. LXVI.

William I. conquered England.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. LXXXVII.

William the Red (Rufus) second Sonne to the Conqueror.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. C.

Henry I. surnamed Beuclerc, third sonne to the first William.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. C. XXXV.

Stephen Earle of Moreton, and Bologne, sonne to Stephen Earle of Blois by Adela daugh∣ter * 1.1224 to the Conqueror. In both the prints of Math. Paris, (An. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. LXXXVI.) You must mend Beccensis Comitis, and read Blesensis Comitis; and how soeuer it coms to passe, he is, in the same Author, made Son to Tedbald Earle of Blois, which in∣deed was his brother.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. C. LIV.

Henry II. Sonne to Geffery Plantagenest Earle of Anion, and Maude the Empres, daughter to Henry Beuclerc.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. C. LXXXIX.

Richard I. Ceur de Lion, Sonne to Henry II.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. C. CXIX.

Iohn, Brother to Ceur de Lion.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CC. XVI.

Hen. III. Sonne to K. Iohn.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CC. LXXIII.

Edward I. Longshanks, Sonne to Hen. III.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CCC. VIII.

Edward II. of Caernaruan, Sonne to Ed. I. deposed by his Wife and Sonne.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CCC. XXVI.

Edward III. Sonne to Edward. II.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CCC. LXXXVII.

Richard II. of Burdeaux (sonne to Ed. the Blacke Prince, sonne to Ed. III.) deposed by Henry D. of Lancaster.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CCC. XCIX.

Henry IV. of Bolingbroke; sonne to Iohn of Gaunt D. of Lancaster fourth sonne to Ed. III.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CD. XIII.

Henry V. of Monmouth, sonne to Hen. IV.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CD. XXII.

Henry VI. of Windsor, sonne to Hen. V. de∣posed by Edward Earle of March, sonne and heire to Richard D. of Yorke, deriuing title from Lionel D. of Clarence and Ed∣mund of Langley III. & V. Sonnes of Ed. III.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CD. LX.

Edward IV. of Roane, sonne and heire of Yorke. In the X. of his raigne Hen. VI. got againe the Crowne, but soone lost both it, and life.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CD. XXCIII.

Edward V. sonne to the IV. of that name, murdred with his brother Richard D. of Yorke, by his Vncle Richard D. of Glo∣cester.

Richard III. Brother to Edward I V. slaine at Bosworth field, by Henry Earle of Rich∣mond. In him ended the name of Planta∣genet in our Kings.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CD. XXCIII.

Edward V. sonne to the IV. of that name, murdred with his brother Richard D. of Yorke, by his Vncle Richard D. of Glo∣cester.

Richard III. Brother to Edward I V. slaine at Bosworth field, by Henry Earle of Rich∣mond. In him ended the name of Planta∣genet in our Kings.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. CD. XXCV.

Henry VII. Heire to the Lancastrian family, married vvith Elizabeth, Heire to the house of Yorke. In him the name of Tyd∣dour, began in the Crowne.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. D. IX.

Henry VIII. of Greenwich, son to Hen. VII.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. D. XLVI.

Edward VI. of Hampton Court, sonne to Hen. VIII.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. D. LIII.

Mary, sister to Edward VI.

〈◊〉〈◊〉. D. LVIII.

Elizabeth, Daughter to Hen. VIII.

Great Andredswalde sometime—

All that Maritime Tract comprehending Sussex, and part of Kent (so much as was not Mountains, now calld'd the Down's which in d 1.1225 British, old Gaulish, Low Dutch, and our English signifies but Hills) being all woody, was call'd Andredsweald e 1.1226 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Andreds wood, often mentioned in our stories, and Newenden in Kent by it Andredcester (as most learned Camden vpon good reason guesses) whence perhaps the Wood had his name. To this day we call those woody Lands, by North the Downes, the Weald: and the Channell of the Riuer that coms out of those parts, & discōtinues the Downs about Bramber, is yet known in Shorham Ferry, by the name of Weald-dich; and, in another Saxon word equiualent to it, are many of the Parishes Terminations on this side the Downs, that is, Herst, or Hurst. i. a wood. It is call'd by Ethelwerd f 1.1227 expresly g 1.1228 Immanis sylua, que vulgò Andredsuuda nuncupatur, and was h 1.1229 CXX. miles long, & XXX. broad. The Authors conceit of these Forrests being nymphs of this Great Andredsuuda, & their complaint for loss of Woods, in Sussex, so decal'd, is plain enough to euery Reader.

As Arun which doth name the beutious Arundel.

So it is coniectured, and is without controuersie iustifiable if that be the name of the Riuer. Some, fable it from Arundel, the name of Beuis horse: It were so astolerableas i 1.1230 Bucephalon, from Alexanders horse, k 1.1231 Tymenna in Ly∣cia from a Goate of that name, and such like, if time would endure it: But Be∣uis was about the Conquest, and this Towne, is by name of Erundele, knowne in time of King Alfred l 1.1232 who gaue it with othersto his Nephew Athelm, Of all men, m 1.1233 Goropius had somewhat a violent coniecture, when he deriued Haron∣dell, from a people call'd Charudes (in Ptolemy, towards the vtmost of the now Iuitland) part of whom hee imagines (about the Saxon and Danish irrupti∣ons) planted themselues here, and by difference of dialect, left this as a branch sprung of their Country title.

And Adur comming on to Shoreham.

This Riuer that here falls into the Ocean might well bee vnderstood in that n 1.1234 Port of Adur, about this coast, the reliques wherof, learned Camden takes to be Edrington, or Adrington, a little from Shoreham. And the Author here so calls it Adur.

Doth blush, as put in mind of those there sadly slaine.

In the Plaine neere Hastings, where the Norman William after his victorie found King Harold slaine, he built Battell Abbey, which at last (as diuers o∣ther Monasteries) grew to a Towne enough populous. Thereabout is a place which after raine alwaies looks red, which som o 1.1235 haue (by that authoritie, the Muse also) attributed to a very bloudy sweat of the earth, as crying to heauen for Reuenge of so great a slaughter.

[illustration]

[illustration]

The eighteenth Song.

THE ARGVMENT.

The Rother through the Weald doth raue, Till he with Oxney fall in loue: Rumney, would with her wealth beguile, And winne the Riuer from the Ile. Medway, with her attending Streames, Goes forth to meet her Lord great Tames: And where in bredth she her disperses, Our Famous Captaines she rehearses, With many of their valiant deeds. Then with Kents praise the Muse proceeds. And telles when Albion o're Sea road, How he his daughter-Iles bestow'd; And how grim Good win fomes and frets: Where to this Song, an end she sets.

OVr Argas scarcely yet deliuered of her sonne, VVhen as the Riuer downe, through Andredsweald dooth run: Nor can the aged Hill haue comfort of her childe. For, liuing in the VVoods, her Rother waxed wilde; His Banks with aged Okes, and Bushes ouer-growne, That from the Syluans kinde, he hardly could be knowne: Yea, many a time the Nymphes, which hapt this Flood to see, Fled from him, whom they sure a Satyre thought to be; As Satyre-like he held all pleasures in disdaine, And would not once vouchsafe, to look vpon a Plaine; Till chancing in his course he to view a goodly plot, Which Albion in his youth, vpon a Sea Nymph got, For Oxney's loue he pines: who being wildly chaste, And neuer woo'd before, was coy to be imbrac't. But, what obdurate heart, was euer so peruerse, Whom yet a louers plaints, with patience, could not pearce? For, in this conflict she being lastly ouerthrowne, In-Iled in his Armes, he clips her for his owne, Who being grosse and black, she lik't the Riuer well.

Of Rothers happy match, when Rumney Marsh heard tell, Whyi'st in his youthfull course himselfe he doth apply, And falleth in her sight into the Sea at Rye,

She thinketh with her selfe, how she a way might finde To put the homely Ile quite out of Rothers minde; * 1.1236 Appearing to the Flood, most brauely like a Queene, Clad (all) from head to foot, in gaudy Summers green; Her mantle richly wrought, with sundry flowers and weeds; Her moystfull temples bound, with wreaths of quiuering reeds: Which loosely flowing downe, vpon her lusty thighes, Most strongly seeme to tempt the Riuers amorous eyes. And on her loynes a frock, with many a swelling pleate, Embost with well-spread Horse, large Sheepe, and full-fed Neate. Some wallowing in the grasse, there lie a while to batten; Some sent away to kill; some thither brought to fatten; With Villages amongst, oft powthred heere and there; And (that the same more like to * 1.1237 Landskip should appeare) With Lakes and lesser Foards, to mitigate the heate (In Summer when the Fly doth prick the gadding Neate, Forc't from the Brakes, where late they brouz'd the veluet buds) In which, they lick their Hides, and chew their sauoury Cuds.

Of these her amourous toyes, when Oxney came to knowe, Suspecting least in time her riuall she might growe, Th'allu'rments of the Marsh, the icalous Ile do moue, That to a constant course, she thus perswades her Loue: With Rumney, though for dower I stand in no degree; In this, to be belou'd yet liker farre then she: Though I be browne, in me there doth no fauour lack. The foule is said deform'd: and she, extreamely black. And though her rich attire, so curious be and rare, From her there yet proceeds vnwholsome putrid aire: VVhere my complexion more sutes with the higher ground, Vpon the lusty Weald, where strength doth still abound. The Wood-gods I refus'd, that su'd to me sor grace, Me in thy watry Armes, thee suffring to imbrace; VVhere, to great Neptune she may one day be a pray: The Sea-gods in her lap lie wallowing euery day. And what, though of her strength she seem to make no doubt? Yet put vnto the proofe shee'll hardly hold him out.

With this perswasiue speech which Oxney lately vs'd, VVith strange and sundry doubts, whilst Rother stood confus'd, Old * 1.1238 Andredsweald at length doth take her time to tell * 1.1239 The changes of the world, that since her youth befell, VVhen yet vpon her soyle, scarce humane foote had trode; A place where only then, the Syluans made abode. Where, feareless of the Hunt, the Hart securely stood, And euery where walkt free, a Burgesse of the VVood; Vntill those Danish routs, whom hunger-staru'd at home, (Like Woolues pursuing prey) about the world did roame.

And stemming the rude streame diuiding vs from France, Into the spacious mouth of Rother fell (by chance) § That Lymen then was nam'd, when (with most irksome care) The heauy Danish yoke, the seruile English bare. And when at last she found, there was no way to leaue Those, whom she had at first been forced to receiue; And by her great resort, she was through very need, Constrained to prouide her peopled Townes to feed. She learn'd the churlish axe and twybill to prepare, To steele the coulters edge, and sharpe the furrowing share: And more industrious still, and only hating sloth, A huswife she became, most skild in making cloth. * 1.1240 That now the Draper comes from London euery yeare, And of the Kentish sorts, make his prouision there. Whose skirts (tis said) at first that fiftie furlongs went, Haue lost their ancient bounds, now * 1.1241 limited in Kent. Which strongly to approue, she Medway forth did bring, From Sussex who (tis knowne) receiues her siluer Spring. Who towar'ds the lordly Tames, as she along doth straine, Where Teise, cleere Beule, and Len, beare vp her limber traine As she remoues in state: so for her more renowne, Her only name she leaues, t'her only * 1.1242 christned Towne; And Rochester doth reach, in entring to the Bowre Of that most matchless Tames, her princely Paramoure. Whose bosome doth so please her Soueraigne (with her pride) Whereas the royall Fleet continually doth ride, That where she told her Tames, she did intend to sing What to the English Name immortall praise should bring; To grace his goodly Queen, Tames presently proclaimes, That all the Kentish Floods, resigning him their names, Should presently repaire vnto his mighty Hall, And by the posting Tides, towards London sends to call Cleere Rauensburne (though small, remembred them among) At Detford entring. Whence as down she comes along, She Darent thither warnes: who calles her sister Cray, Which hasten to the Court with all the speed they may. And but that Medway then of Tames obtain'd such grace, Except her country Nymphs, that none should be in place, More Riuers from each part, had instantly been there, Then at their marriage, first, by * 1.1243 Spenser numbred were.

This Medway still had nurst those nauies in her Road, Our Armies that had oft to conquest borne abroad; And not a man of ours, for Armes hath famous been, Whom she not going out, or comming in hath seen: Or by some passing Ship, hath newes to her been brought, What braue exploits they did; as where, and how, they fought.

VVherefore, for audience now, she to th'assembly calls, The Captains to recite when seriously she fals.

Of noble warriors now, saith she, shall be my Song; Of those renowned spirits, that from the Conquest sprong, Of th'English Norman blood: which, matchless for their might, Haue with their flaming swords, in many a dreadfull fight, Illustrated this Ile, and bore her fame so farre; Our Heroes, which the first wanne, in that Holy warre, Such feare from euery foe, and made the East more red, With splendor of their Armes, then when from Tithons bed The blushing Dawne doth break; towards which our fame begon, By Robert (Curt-hose call'd) the Conquerours eldest sonne, Who with great Godfrey and that holy Hermit went The Sepulcher to free, with most deuout intent. * 1.1244

And to that title which the Norman William got, VVhen in our Conquest heere, he stroue t'include the Scot, The Generall of our power, that stout and warlike Earle, Who English being borne, was stil'd of Aubemerle; Those Lacyes then no lesse courageous, which had there The leading of the day, all, braue Commanders were.

Sir Walter Especk, matcht with Peuerell, which as farre Aduentur'd for our fame: who in that Bishops warre, Immortall honour got to Stephens troubled raigne: That day ten thousand Scots vpon the field were slaine.

The Earle of Strigule then our Strong-bowe, first that wonne Wilde Ireland with the sword (which, to the glorious sunne, Lifts vp his nobler name) amongst the rest may stand.

In Cure de Lyon's charge vnto the Holy-land, Our Earle of Lester, next, to rank with them we bring: And Turnham, he that took th'impost'rous Ciprian King. Strong Tuchet chose to weeld the English standard there; Poole, Gourney, Neuill, Gray, Lyle, Ferres, Mortimer: And more, for want of pens whose deeds not brought to light, It grieues my zealous soule, I can not do them right.

The noble Penbrooke then, who Strong-bowe did succeed, Like his braue Grand-sire, made th'reuolting Irish bleed, VVhen yeelding oft, they oft their due subiection broke; And when the Britans scorn'd, to beare the English yoke, Lewellin Prince of Wales in Battell ouerthrewe, Nine thousand valiant VVelsh and either took or slew. Earle Richard, his braue sonne, of Strong-bowes matchless straine, As he a Marshall was, did in himselfe retaine The nature of that word, being Martiall, like his name: VVho, as his valiant Sire, the Irish oft did tame.

VVith him we may compare Marisco (King of Men) That Lord chiefe Iustice was of Ireland, whereas then

Those two braue Burrowes, Iohn, and Richard, had their place, Which through the bloodied Bogs, those Irish oft did chase; Whose deeds may with the best deseruedly be read.

As those two Lacyes then, our English Powers that led: Which twenty thousand, there, did in one Battell quell, Amongst whome (troden down) the King of Conaugh fell.

Then Richard, that lov'd Earle of Cornwall, here we set: Who, rightly of the race of great Plantaginet, Our English Armies shipt, to gaine that hallowed ground, With Long-sword the braue sonne of beautious Rosamond: The Pagans through the breasts, like thunderbolts that shot; And in the vtmost East such admiration got, That the shril-sounding blast, and terrour of our fame Hath often conquered, where, our swords yet neuer came: As Gifford, not forgot, their stout associate there.

So in the warres with Wales, of ours as famous here, Guy Beuchamp, that great Earle of Warwick, place shall haue: From whom, the Cambrian Hils the Welsh-men could not saue; Whom he, their generall plague, impetuously pursu'd, And in the British gore his slaughtering sword imbru'd.

In order as they rise (next Beuchamp) we preferre The Lord Iohn Gifford, matcht with Edmond Mortimer; Men rightly moulded vp, for high aduentrous deeds.

In this renowned rank of warriors then succeeds Walwin, who with such skill our Armies oft did guide; In many a dangerous straight, that had his knowledge tride. And in that fierce assault, which caus'd the fatall flight, Where the distressed Welsh resign'd their Ancient right, Stout Frampton: by whose hand, their Prince Lewellin fell.

Then followeth (as the first who haue deserued as well) Great Saint-Iohn; from the French, which twice recouered Guyne: And he, all him before that cleerely did out-shine, Warren, the puissant Earle of Surrey, which led forth Our English Armyes oft into our vtmost North; And oft of his approach made Scotland quake to heare, VVhen Tweed hath sunk downe flat, within her Banks for feare. On him there shall attend, that most aduenturous Twhing, That at Scambekin fight, the English off did bring Before the furious Scot, that else werelike to fall.

As Basset, last of these, yet not the least of all Those most renowned spirits that Fowkerk brauely fought; Where Long-shanks, to our lore, Albania lastly brought.

As, when our Edward first his title did aduance, And led his English hence, to winne his right in France, That most deseruing Earle of Darby we preferre, Henries third valiant sonne, the Earle of Lancaster,

That only Mars of Men; who (as a generall seurge, Sent by iust-iudging Heauen, outrageous France to purge) At Cagant plagu'd the Power of Flemmings that she rais'd, Against the English force: which as a hand-sell seas'd, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 her very heart he marcht in warlike wise; Took Bergera, Langobeck, Mountdurant, and Mountguyse; Leau, Poudra, and Punach, Mount-Segre, Forsa, wonne; Mountpesans, and Beumount, the Ryall, Aiguillon, Rochmillon, Mauleon, Franch, and Angolisme surpriz'd; VVith Castles, Cities, Forts, nor Prouinces suffic'd. Then took the Earle of Leyle: to conduct whom there caine Nine Vicounts, Lords, and Earls, astonisht at his name. To Gascoyne then he goes (to plague her, being prest) And manfully himselfe of Mirabell possest; Surgeres, and Alnoy, Benoon, and Mortaine strooke: And with a fearefull siege, he Taleburg lastly took; VVith prosperous successe, in lesser time did winne Maximien, Lusingham, Mount-Sorrell, and Bouin; Sackt Poytiers: which did, then, that Countries treasure hold; That not a man of ours would touch what was not gold.

VVith whom our * 1.1245 Maney here deseruedly doth stand, Which first Inuentor was of that courageous band, Who clos'd their left eyes vp; as, neuer to be freed, Till there they had atchiev'd some high aduenturous deed. He first into the preasse at Cagant conflict flue; And from amidst a groue of gleaues, and halberds drew Great Darby beaten downe; t'amaze the men of warre, VVhen he for England cri'd, S. George, and Lancaster: And as mine author tells (in his high courage, proud) Before his going forth, vnto his Mistresse vow'd, He would begin the war: and, to make good the same, Then setting foot in France, there first with hostile flame Forc't Mortain, from her Towers, the neighbouring Townes to light; That suddainly they caught a Feuer with the fright. Thin Castle (neere the Towne of Cambray) ours he made; And when the Spanish powers came Britanne to inuade, * 1.1246 Both of their aydes and spoyles, them vtterly bereft. This English Lyon, there, the Spaniards neuer left, Till from all aire of France, he made their Lewes fly. And Fame her selfe, to him, so amply did apply, That when the most vniust Calicians had forethought, Into that Towne (then ours) the French-men to haue brought, The King of England's selfe, and his renowned sonne * 1.1247 (By those perfidious French to see what would be done) Vnder his Guydon marcht, as priuate souldiers there.

So had we still of ours, in France that famous were;

Warwick, of England then High-constable that was, As other of that race, heere well I cannot passe; That braue and god-like brood of Beuchamps, which so long Them Earles of Warwick held; so hardy, great, and strong, That after of that name it to an Adage grew, If any man himselfe adventrous hapt to shew, Bold Beuchampe men him tearm'd, if none so bold as hee.

With those our Beuchamps, may our Bourchers reckned bee. * 1.1248 Of which, that valiant Lord, most famous in those dayes, That hazarded in France so many dangerous frayes: Whose blade in all the fights betwixt'the French and vs, Like to a Blazing-starre was euer ominous; A man, as if by Mars vpon Bellona got.

Next him, stout Cobham comes, that with as prosprous lot Th'English men hath led; by whose auspicious hand, We often haue been known the Frenchmen to command. And Harcourt, though by birth an Alien; yet, ours wonne, By England after held her deere adopted sonne: Which oft vpon our part was brauely prou'd to doe, Who with the hard'st attempts Fame earnestly did wooe: To Paris-ward, that when the Amyens fled by stealth (Within her mightie walls to haue inclos'd their wealth) Before her bulwarkt gates the Burgesses hee tooke; Whilst the Parisians, thence that sadly stood to looke, And saw their faithfull friends so wofully bestead, Not once durst issue out to helpe them, for their head.

And our Iohn Copland; heere courageously at home (Whilst euery where in France, those farre abroad doe roame) That at New-castle fight (the Battell of the Queene, Where most the English harts were to their Soueraigne seene) Tooke Dauid King of Scots, his prisoner in the fight. Nor could these warres imploy our onely men of might: But as the Queene by these did mightie things atchieue; So those, to Britaine sent the Countesse to relieue, As any yet of ours, two knights as much that dar'd, Stout Dangorn, and with him strong Hartwell honor fhar'd; The dreaded Charles de Bloyes, that at Rochdarren bet, And on the Royall seat, the Countesse Mountfort set. In each place where they came so fortunate were ours.

Then, Audley, most renown'd amongst those valiant powers, That with the Prince of Wales at conquer'd Poyters fought; Such wonders that in Armes before both Armies wrought; The first that charg'd the French; and, all that dreadfull day, Through still renewing worlds of danger, made his way; The man that scorn'd to take a prisoner (through his pride) But by plaine downe-right death the title to decide.

And after the retreat, that famous Battell done, Wherein, rich spacious France was by the English wonne, Fiue hundred marks in Fee, that noblest Prince bestow'd For his so braue attempts, through his high courage show'd. VVhich to his foure Esquires * 1.1249 hee freely gaue, who there Vy'd valour with their Lord; and in despight of feare, Oft fetcht that day from death, where wounds gap't wide as hell; And cryes, and parting groanes, whereas the Frenchmen fell, Euen made the Victors greeue, so horrible they were.

Our Dabridgcourt the next shall be remembred heere, At Poyters who brake in vpon the Alman Horse Through his too forward speed: but, taken by their force, And after, by the turne of that so doubtfull fight, Beeing reskew'd by his friends in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fearfull sight, Then like a Lyon rang'd about th'Enemies host: And where he might suppose the danger to be most, Like Lightning entred there, to his French-foes dismay, To gratifie his friends which reskew'd him that day.

Then Chandos: whose great deeds found Fame so much to doo, That she was lastly forc'd, him for her ease to wooe; That Minion of drad Mars, which almost ouer-shone All those before him were, and for him none scarce known, At Cambray's scaled wall his credit first that wonne; And by the high exployts in France by him were done, Had all so ouer-aw'd, that by his very name He could remoue a siege: and Citties where he came Would at his Summons yeeld. That man, the most belou'd, In all the wayes of warre so skilfull and approu'd, The * 1.1250 Prince at Poyters chose his person to assist. Thisst out Herculean stem, this noble Martialist, In battell twixt braue Bloys and noble Mountfort, try'd At Array, then the right of Britaine to decyde, Rag'd like a furious storme beyond the power of man, Where valiant Charles was slaine, and the sterne English wan The royall British rule to Mountforts nobler name. Hee tooke strong Tarryers in, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 oft did tame. Gavaches he regayn'd, and vs Rochmador got. Where euer lay'd hee siege that he invested not?

As this braue Warrior was, so no lesse deere to vs, The riuall in his fame, his onely amulus, Renown'd Sir Robert Knowles, that in his glories shar'd, His chiualry and oft in present perills dar'd; As Nature should with Time, at once by these consent To showe, that all their 〈◊〉〈◊〉 they idly had not spent. Hee Vermandoise or'e-ranne with skill and courage hie: Notoriously hee plagu'd revolting Picardy:

That vp to Paris walls did all before him win, And dar'd her at her gates (the King that time within) A man that all his deeds did dedicate to fame.

Then those stout Percyes, Iohn, and Thomas, men of name. The valiant Gourney, next, deseruedly we grace, And Howet, that with him assumes as high a place. Strong Trivet, all whose ends at great adventures shot: That conquer'd vs Mount Pin, and Castle Carcilot, As famous in the French, as in the Belgique warre; Who tooke the Lord Brimewe; and with the great Navarre, In Papaloon, attain'd an euerlasting praise.

Courageous Carill next, then whom those glorious daies Produc't not any spirit that through more dangers swam.

That princely Thomas, next, the Earle of Buckingham, To Britany through France that our stout English brought, Which vnder his Commaund with such high fortune fought As put the world in feare Rome from her cynders rose, And of this Earth againe meant onely to dispose.

Thrice valiant Hackwood then, out-shining all the rest, From London at the first a poore meane souldier prest (That time but very young) to those great warres in France, By his braue service there himselfe did so advance, That afterward, the heat of those great Battels done (In which he to his name immortall glory wonne) Leading sixe thousand Horse, let his braue Guydon flie. So, passing through East France, and entring Lombardie, Byth' greatnes of his fame, attayn'd so high Commaund, That to his charge he got the white Italian Band. With * 1.1251 Mountferato then in all his warres he went: Whose cleere report abroad by Fames shrill trumpet sent, Wrought, that with rich rewards him Milan after won, To ayde her, in her warres with Mantua then begon; By * 1.1252 Barnaby, there made the Milanezes guide: His daughter, who, to him, faire Domina, affy'd. For Gregory then the twelfth, he dangerous Battels strooke, And with a noble siege revolted Pauia tooke. And there, as Fortune rose, or as she did decline, Now with the Pisan seru'd, then with the Florentine: The vse of th'English Bowes to Italy that brought; By which he, in those warres, seem'd wonders to haue wrought.

Our Henry Hotspur next, for hie atchieuements meet, Who with the thundring noyse of his swift Coursers feet, Astund the earth, that day, that he in Holmdon's strife Tooke Douglas, with the Earles of Anguish, and of Fyfe. And whilst those hardy Scots, vpon the firme earth bled, With his reuengefull sword swicht after them that fled.

Then Caluerley, which kept vs Calice with such skill, His honor'd roome shall haue our Catalogue to fill: Who, when th'rebellious French, their liberty to gaine, From vs our ancient right vniustly did detaine (T'let Bullen vnderstand our iust conceiued ire) Her Suburbs, and her Ships, sent vp to heauen in fire; Estaples then tooke in that day shee held her Faire, Whose Marchandise he let his souldiers freely share; And got vs back Saint Marks, which loosely wee had lost.

Amongst these famous men, of vs deseruing most, In these of great'st report, we gloriously prefer, For that his nauall fight, Iohn Duke of Excester; The puissant Fleet of Ieane (which France to her did call) Who mercilesly sunk, and slew her Admirall.

And one, for single fight, amongst our Martiall men, Deserues remembrance 〈◊〉〈◊〉 as worthily agen; Our Clifford, that braue, young, and most courageous Squire: Who thoroughly provokt, and in a great desire Vnto the English name a high report to win, Slew Bockmell hand to hand at Castle Iocelin, Suppos'd the noblest spirit that France could then produce.

Now, forward to thy taske proceed industrious Muse, To him, aboue them all, our Power that did advance; Iohn Duke of Bedford, stil'd the fire-brand to sad France: Who to remoue the Foe from sieged Harflew, sent, Affrighted them like death; and as at Sea he went, The huge French Nauiefier'd, when horrid Neptune ror'd, The whilst those mightie Ships out of their scuppers pour'd Their trayterous cluttred gore vpon his wrinkled face. Hee tooke strong Ivery in: and like his kingly race, There downe before Vernoyle the English Standard stuck: And hauing on his Helme his conquering Brothers luck, Alanzon on the field and doughty Douglasse layd, Which brought the Scottish power vnto the Dauphins ayde; And with his fatall sword, gaue France her fill of death, Till wearied with her wounds, shee gasping lay for breath.

Then, as if powerfull Heauen our part did there abet, Still did one noble spirit, a nobler spirit beget. So, Salsbury arose; from whom, as from a sourse All valour seem'd to flowe, and to maintaine her force. From whom not all their Forts could hold our trecherous Foes. Pontmelance hee regayn'd, which ours before did lose. Against the envious French, at Cravant, then came on; As sometime at the siege of high-rear'd Ilion, The Gods descending, mixt with mortalls in the fight: And in his leading, show'd such valour and such might,

As though his hand had held a more then earthly power; Tooke Stuart in the field, and Generall Vantadour, The French and Scottish force, that day which brauely led; Where few at all escap't, and yet the wounded fled. Mount Aguilon, and Mouns, great Salsbury surpriz'd: § What time (I thinke in hell) that instrument deuis'd, The first appear'd in France, as a prodigious birth * 1.1253 To plague the wretched world, sent from the envious Earth; Whose very roring seem'd the mighty Round to shake, As though of all againe it would a Chaos make. This famous Generall then got Gwerland to our vse, And Malicorne made ours, with Loupland, and La Suise, Saint Bernards Fort, S. Kales, S. Susan, Mayon, Lyle, The Hermitage, Mountseure, Baugency, and Yanvile.

Then he (in all her shapes that dreadfull Warre had seene, And that with Danger oft so conuersant had beene, As for her threats at last he seem'd not once to care, And Fortune to her face adventurously durst dare) The Earle of Suffolke, Poole, the Marshall that great day At Agincourt, where France before vs prostrate lay (Our Battells euery where that Hector-like supply'd, And marcht o're murthered pyles of Frenchmen as they dy'd) Invested Auhemerle, rich 〈◊〉〈◊〉 making ours, And at the Bishops Parke or'ethrew the Dolphins powers. Through whose long time in warre, his credit so increast, That hee supply'd the roume of Salsbury deceast.

In this our warlike rank, the two stout Astons then, Sir Richard, and Sir Iohn, so truly valiant men, That Ages yet to come shall hardly ouer-top am, Vmfreuill, Peachy, 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Mountgomery, Felton, Popham. All men of great Commaund, and highly that deseru'd:

Courageous Ramston next, so faithfully that seru'd At Paris, and S. Iames de Beneon, where we gaue The French those deadly foyles, that Ages since depraue The credit of those times, with these so wondrous things,

The memory of which, great Warwick forward brings. Who (as though in his blood he conquest did inherit, Or in the very name there were 〈◊〉〈◊〉 secret spirit) Being chosen for these warres in our great Regents place (A deadly Foe to France, like his braue Roman race) The Castilets of Loyre, of Maiet, and of Lund, Mountdublian, and the strong Pountorson beat to ground.

Then hee, aboue them all, himselfe that sought to raise, Vpon some Mountaine top, like a Piramides; Our Talbot, to the French so terrible in warre, That with his very name their Babes they vs'd to scarre,

Took-in the strong Lavall, all Main and ouer-ran, As the betray'd Mons he from the Marshall wan, And from the treacherous Foe our valiant Suffolke free'd. His sharpe and dreadfull sword made France so oft to bleed, Till fainting with her wounds, she on her wrack did fall; Tooke Ioing, where he hung her Traytors on the wall; And with as faire successe wan Beumont vpon Oyse, The newe Towne in Esmoy, and Crispin in Valoyes: Creile, with Saint Maxines bridge; and at Auranches ayde, Before whose batter'd walls the Foe was strongly lay'd, Marcht in, as of the siege at all he had not knowne; And happily relieu'd the hardly-gotten Roan: Who at the very hint came with auspicious feet, Whereas the trayt'rous French he miserably beet. And hauing ouer-spred all Picardy with warre, Proud Burgaine to the Field hee lastly sent to darre, Which with his English friends so oft his fayth had broake: Whose Countries he made mourne in clowds of smouldring smoak; Then Gysors he againe, then did Saint Denise, raze.

His Parallel, with him, the valiant Scales we praise; Which oft put sword to sword, and foot to foot did set: And that the first alone the Garland might not get, With him hath hand in hand leapt into Dangers iawes; And oft would forward put, where Talbot stood to pause: Equalitie in fame, which with an equall lot, Both at Saint Denise siege, and batt'red Guysors got. Before Pont-Orsons walls, who, when great Warwick lay (And he with souldiers sent a forraging for pray) Six thousand French or'e-threw with halfe their numbred powers, And absolutely made both Main and Aniou ours.

To Willoughby the next, the place by turne doth fall; Whose courage likely was to beare it from them all: With admiration oft on whom they stood to looke, Saint Valeries proud gates that off the hindges shooke: In Burgondy that forc't the recreant French to flie, And beat the Rebells downe disordering Normandy: That Amiens neere layd waste (whose strengths her could not saue) And the perfidious French out of the Country draue.

With these, another troupe of noble spirits there sprong, That with the formost preast into the warlike throng. The first of whom we place that stout Sir Phillip Hall, So famous in the fight against the Count S. Paul, That Crotoy vs regain'd: and in the conflict twixt The English and the French, that with the Scot were mixt, On proud Charles Cleremont won that admirable day.

Strong Fastolph with this man compare we iustly may,

By Salsbury who oft beeing seriously imploy'd In many a braue attempt, the generall Foe annoy'd; VVith excellent successe in Main and Aniou fought: And many a Bulwarke there into our keeping brought; And, chosen to goe forth with Vadamont in warre, Most resolutely tooke proud Renate, Duke of Barre.

The valiant Draytons then, Sir Richard, and Sir Iohn, By any English spirits yet hardly ouer-gone; The fame they got in France, with costly vvounds that bought: In Gascony and Guyne, who oft and stoutly fought.

Then, valiant Mathew Gough: for whom the English were Much bound to noble Wales in all our Battels there, Or sieging or besieg'd that neuer fayl'd our force, Oft hazarding his blood in many a desperate course. Hee beat the Bastard Balme with his selected band, And at his Castle-gate surpriz'd him hand to hand, And spight of all his power away him prisoner bare,

Our hardy Burdet then with him we will compare, Besieg'd within Saint Iames de Beneon, ifsuing out, Crying Salsbury, S. George, with such a horrid shout, That cleft the wandring clowds; and with his valiant crew Vpon the envied French like hungry Lyons flew, And Arthur Earle of Eure and Richmont tooke in fight: Then following them (in heat) the Armie put to flight: The Britan, French, and Scot, receiu'd a generall fack, As, flying, one fell still vpon anothers back; Where our sixe hundred slew so many thousands more. At our so good successe that once a French-man swore That God was wholly turn'd vnto the English side, And to asist the French, the diuell had deny'd.

Then heere our Kerrill claimes his roome amongst the rest, Who iustly if compar'd might match our very best. Hee in our warres in France with our great Talbot oft, VVith Willoughby and Scales, now downe, and then aloft, Endur'd the sundry turnes of often varying Fate; At Cleremont seiz'd the Earle before his Citty gate, Eight hundred faithlesse French who tooke or put to sword; And, by his valour, twice to Artoyse vs restor'd.

In this our service then great Arondell doth ensue, The Marshall Bousack who in Beuvoys ouerthrew; And, in despight of France and all her power, did win The Castles Darle, Nellay, S. Lawrence, Bomelin; Tooke Silly, and Count Lore at Sellerin subdu'd, Where with her owners blood, her buildings hee imbru'd: Revolted Loveers sackt, and manfully supprest Those Rebells, that so oft did Normandy molest.

As Poynings, such high prayse in Gelderland that got, On the Savoyan side, that with our English shot Strooke warlike Aiske, and Straule, when Flanders shooke with feare.

As Howard, by whose hand we so renowned were: Whose great successe at Sea, much fam'd our English Fleet: That in a navall fight the Scottish Barton beet; And setting foote in France, her horribly did fright: (As if great Chandos ghost, or feared Talbots spright Had com'n to be their scourge, their fame againe to earne) Who hauing stoutly sack't both Narbin and Deverne, The Castles of De Boyes, of Fringes, tooke vs there, Of Columburge, of Rewe, of Dorlans, and Daveere; In Scotland, and againe the Marches East to West, Did with invasiue warre most terribly infest.

A nobler of that name, the Earle of Surry then, That famous Heroe fit both for the Speare and Pen (From Floddens doubtfull fight, that forward Scottish King In his victorious troupe who home with him did bring) Rebellious Ireland scourg'd, in Britany and wan Vs Morles. Happy time, that bredst so braue a man!

To Cobham, next, the place deseruedly doth fall: In France who then imploy'd with our great Admirall, In his succesfull Road blew Sellois vp in fire, Tooke Bottingham and Bruce, with Samkerke and Mansier.

Our Peachy, nor our Carre, nor Thomas, shall be hid, That at the Field of Spurres by Tirwyn stoutly did. Sands, Guyldford, Palmer, Lyle, Fitzwilliams, and with them, Braue Dacres, Musgraue, Bray, Coe, Wharton, Ierningham, Great Martialists, and men that were renowned farre At Sea; some in the French, some in the Scottish warre.

Courageous Randolph then, that seru'd with great Command, Before Newhauen first, and then in Ireland. The long-renown'd Lord Gray, whose spirit we oft did try; A man that with drad Mars stood in account most hie. Sir Thomas Morgan then, much fame to vs that wan, When in our Maiden raigne the Belgique warre began: Who with our friends the Dutch, for England stoutly stood, When Netherland first learn'd to lauish gold and blood. Sir Roger Williams next (of both which, Wales might vaunt) His marshall Compere then, and braue Commilitant: Whose conflicts, with the French and Spanish manly fought, Much honor to their names, and to the Britaines brought.

Th'Lord Willoughby may well be reccond with the rest, Inferiour not a whit to any of our best; A man so made for warre, as though from Pallas sprong. Sir Richard Bingham then our valiant men among,

Himselfe in Belgia well, and Ireland, who did beare; Our onely Schooles of Warre this later time that were. As, Stanly, whose braue act at Zutphens seruice done,* 1.1254 Much glory to the day, and him his Knighthood wonne.

Our noblest Norrice next, whose fame shall neuer die Whilst Belgia shall be knowne; or there's a Britany: In whose braue height of spirit, Time seem'd as to restore Those, who to th'English name such honor gayn'd of yore.

Great Essex, of our Peeres the last that ere we knew; Th'old worlds Heroës lyues who likely'st did renew; The souldiers onely hope, who stoutly seru'd in France; And on the Towers of Cales as proudly did advance Our English Ensignes then, and made Iberia quake, When as our warlike 〈◊〉〈◊〉 road on the surging Lake, T'receiue that Citties spoyle, which set her batter'd gate Wide ope, t'affrighted Spayne to see her wretched state.

Next, Charles, Lord Mountioy, sent to Ireland to suppresse The envious Rebell there; by whose most faire successe, The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Irish led by their vniust Tyrone, And the proud Spanish force, were iustly ouerthrowne. That still Kinsall shall keepe and faithfull record beare, What by the English prowesse was executed there.

Then liu'd those valiant Veres, both men of great Command* 1.1255 In our imployments long: whose either Marshall hand Reacht at the highest wreath, it from the top to get, Which on the proudest head, Fame yet had euer set.

Our p 1.1256 Dokwray, q 1.1257 Morgan next, Sir Samuell Bagnall, then Stout r 1.1258 Lambert, such as well deserue a liuing pen; True Martialists and Knights, of noble spirit and wit.

The valiant Cicill, last, for great imployment fit, Deseruedly in warre the lat'st of ours that rose: Whose honor euery howre, and fame still greater growes.

When now the Kentish Nymphs doe interrupt her Song, By letting Medway knowe shee tarried had too long Vpon this warlike troupe, and all vpon them layd, Yet for their nobler Kent shee nought or little said.

When as the pliant Muse, straight turning her about, And comming to the Land as Medway goeth out, Saluting the deare soyle, ô famous Kent, quoth shee, What Country hath this Ile that can compare with thee, Which hast within thy selfe as much as thou canst wish? Thy Conyes, Venson, Fruit; thy sorts of Fowle and Fish: As what with strength comports, thy Hay, thy Corne, thy Wood: Nor any thing doth want, that any where is good. Where Thames-ward to the shore, which shoots vpon the rise, Rich Tenham vndertakes thy Closets to suffize

With Cherries, which weesay, the Sommer in doth bring, Wherewith Pomona crownes the plump and lustfull Spring; From whose deepe ruddy 〈◊〉〈◊〉, sweet Zephyre kisses steales, With their delicious touch his loue-sicke hart that heales. Whose golden Gardens seeme th'Hesperides to mock: Nor there the Damzon wants, nor daintie Abricock, Nor Pippin, which we hold of kernell-fruits the king, The Apple-Orendge; then the sauory Russetting: The Peare-maine, which to France long ere to vs was knowne, Which carefull Frut'rers now haue denizend our owne. The Renat: which though first it from the Pippin came, Growne through his pureness nice, assumes that curious name, Vpon the Pippin stock, the Pippin beeing set; As on the Gentle, when the Gentle doth beget (Both by the Sire and Dame beeing anciently descended) The issue borne of them, his blood hath much amended. The Sweeting, for whose sake the Plow-boyes oft make warre: The Wilding, Costard, then the wel-known Pomwater, And sundry other fruits, of good, yet seuerall taste, That haue their sundry names in sundry Countries plac't: Vnto whose deare increase the Gardiner spends his life, With Percer, VVimble, Sawe, his Mallet, and his Knife; Oft couereth, oft doth bare the dry and moystned root, As faintly they mislike, or as they kindly sute: And their selected plants doth workman-like bestowe, That in true order they conueniently may growe. And kils the slimie Snayle, the VVorme, and labouring Ant, Which many times annoy the graft and tender Plant: Or else maintaines the plot much starued with the wet, VVherein his daintiest fruits in kernels he doth set: Or scrapeth off the mosse, the Trees that oft annoy.

But, with these try fling things why idly doe I toy, Who any way the time intend not to prolong? To those Thamisian Iles now nimbly 〈◊〉〈◊〉 my Song, Faire Shepey and the Greane sufficiently supply'd, To beautifie the place where 〈◊〉〈◊〉 showes her pride. But Greane seemes most of all the Medway to adore, And Tenet, standing forth to the f 1.1259 Rhutupian shore, By mightie Albion plac't till his returne againe From Gaul; where, after, he by Hercules was slaine. For, Earth-borne Albion then great Neptunes eldest sonne, Ambicious of the fame by sterne Alcides wonne, VVould ouer (needs) to Gaul, with him to hazard fight, Twelue Labors which before accomplisht by his might; His Daughters then but young (on whom was all his care) VVhich Doris, Thet is Nymph, vnto the Gyant bare:

With whom those Iles he left; and will'd her for his sake, That in their Grandsires Court shee much of them would make: But Tenet, th'eldst of three, when Albion was to goe, Which lou'd her Father best, and loth to leaue him so, There at the Giant raught; which was perceiu'd by chance: This louing Ile would else haue followed him to France; To make the chanell wide that then he forced was, § Whereas (some say) before he vs'd on foot to passe.

Thus Tenet being stay'd, and surely setled there, Who nothing lesse then want and idlenes could beare, Doth onely giue her selfe to tillage of the ground. With sundry sorts of Graine whilst thus shee doth abound, She falls in loue with Stour, which comming downe by Wye, And towards the goodly Ile, his feet doth nimbly ply. To Canterbury then as kindly he resorts, His famous Country thus he gloriously reports;

O noble Kent, quoth he, this praise doth thee belong, The hard'st to be controld, impatientest of wrong. VVho, when the Norman first with pride and horror sway'd, Threw'st off the seruile yoke vpon the English lay'd; And with a high resolue, most brauely didst restore That libertie so long enioy'd by thee before. § Not suffring forraine Lawes should thy free Customes bind, Then onely showd'st thy selfe of th'ancient Saxon kind. Of all the English Shires be thou surnam'd the Free, § And formost euer plac't, when they shall reckned bee. And let this Towne, which Chiefe of thy rich Country is, Of all the British Sees be still Metropolis.

Which hauing said, the Stour to Tenet him doth hie, Her in his louing armes imbracing by and by, Into the mouth of Tames one arme that forth doth lay, The other thrusting out into the Celtique Sea. § Grym Goodwin all this while seems grieuously to lowre, Nor cares he of a strawe for Tennet, nor her Stour; Still bearing in his mind a mortall hate to France Since mighty Albions fall by warres incertaine chance. Who, since his wisht reuenge not all this while is had, Twixt very griefe and rage is fall'n extreamly mad; That when the rouling Tyde doth stirre him with her waues, Straight foming at the mouth, impatiently he raues, And striues to swallow vp the Sea-marks in his Deepe, That warne the wandring ships out of his iawes to keepe.

The Surgions of the Sea doe all their skill apply, If possibly, to cure his greeuous maladie: As Amphitrites Nymphs their very vtmost proue, By all the meanes they could, his madnes to remoue.

From Greenwich to these Sands, some 〈◊〉〈◊〉 doe bring, That inwardly apply'd's a wondrous soueraigne thing. From Shepey, Sea-mosse some, to coole his boyling blood; * 1.1260 Some, his ill-seasond mouth that wisely vnderstood, Rob Dovers neighboring Cleeues of Sampyre, to excite His dull and sickly taste, and stirre vp appetite.

Now, Shepey, when shee found shee could no further wade After her mightie Sire, betakes her to his trade, With Sheephooke in her hand, her goodly flocks to heed, And cherisheth the kind of those choice Kentish breed. Of Villages shee holds as husbandly a port, As any British Ile that neighboreth Neptunes Court. But Greane, as much as shee her Father that did loue (And, then the Inner Land, no further could remoue) In such continuall griefe for Albion doth abide, That almost vnder-stood shee weepeth euery Tide.

Illustrations.

OVt of Sussex, into its Easterne neighbor, Kent, this Canto leads you. It begins with Rother, whose running through the woods, inisling Oxney, and such like, poetically here describ'd is plaine enough to any apprehending conceit; and vpon Medway's Song of our Martiall and Heroique spirits, be∣cause a large volume might be written to explane their glorie in particular a∣ction, and in lesse comprehension without wrong to many worthies its not performable, I haue omitted all Illustration of that kind, and left you to the Muse her selfe.

That Limen then was nam'd—

So the Author coniectures; that Rothers mouth was the place call'd Limen, at which the Danes in time of K. Alfred made irruption; which he must (I thinke) maintaine by adding likelyhood that Rother then fell into the Ocean about Hith; where (as the reliques of the name in Lime, and the distance from Canterbury in Antoninus, making * 1.1261 Portus Lemanis, which is misprinted in Su∣rita's Edition, Pontem Lemanis. XVI. Miles off) it seemes Limen was; and if Rother were Limen, then also, there was it discharged out of the Land. But for the Authors words read this; * 1.1262 Equestris Paganorum 〈◊〉〈◊〉 cum suis equis C C L. nauibus Cantiam transuectus in Ostio Amnis Limen qui de sylua magna Andred nominata decurrit, applicuit, à cuius ostio IIII. milltarijs in eandem syluam naues suas sur sum traxit, vbi quandam arcem semistructam, quam pauci inhabita∣bant villant, diruerunt, altamq, sibi firmiorem in loco qui dicitur Apultrea construx∣erunt, which are the syllables of Florence of Worcester; and with him in sub∣stance fully agrees Matthew of Westminster: nor can I thinke but that they imagin'd Rye (where now Rother hath its mouth) to be this Port of Limen, as the Muse here; if you respect her direct termes. Henry of Huntingdon names no Riuer at all, but lands them * 1.1263 ad Portum Limene cum 250. nautbus qui portus est in Orientali parte 〈◊〉〈◊〉 iuxta magnū nemus Andredslaige. How Rothers mouth can be properly said in the East (but rather in the South part) of Kent, I con∣ceiue not, and am of the aduerse part, thinking cleerely that Hith must be Por∣tus

Lemanis, which is that coast, as also learned Camden teaches, whose authori∣ty cited 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Huntingdon, being neere the same time with Florence might be perhaps thought but as of equall credit; therefore I call another witnesse (that a 1.1264 liu'd not much past L. yeares after the arriuall) in these wordes, * 1.1265 In Limneo portu constituunt puppes, Apoldre (so I read, for the Print is corrupted) loco condi∣cto Orientali Cantiae parte, destruúntq, ibi prisco opere castrum propter quod rustica manus exigua quippe intrinsecus erat, Illicq, hiberna castra confirmant. Out of which you note both that no Riuer, but a Port onely, is spoken of, and that the Ships were left in the shore at the Hauen, and thence the Danes conueyed their companies to Apledowre. The words of this Ethelwerd I respect much more then these later Stories, and I would aduise my Reader to incline so with me.

What time I thinke in hell that instrument deuis'd.

He meanes a Gunne; wherewith that most Noble and right Martiall 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Earle of Salisbury at the siege of Orleans in time of Hen. VI. was slaine. The first inuentor of them (I guesse you dislike not the addition) was one b 1.1266 Berthold Swartz (others say Constantine Anklitzen a Dutch Monke and Chymist, who hauing in a Morter, sulphurous powder for Medicine, couer'd with a stone, a sparke of fire by chance falling into it, fired it, and the flame re∣mou'd the stone; which he obseruing, made vse afterward of the like in little pipes of Iron, and shewed the vse to the Venetians in their warre with the Geno∣wayes at Chioggia about 〈◊〉〈◊〉. CCC. LXXX. Thus is the common assertion: but I see as good c 1.1267 authority, that it was vsed aboue XX. yeares before in the Danish Seas. I will not dispute the conueniency of it in the world, compare it with Salmoneus imitation of Thunder, Archimedes his Engines, and such like; nor tell you that the Chinois had it, and Printing, so many ages before vs, as Men∣doza, Maffy, and others deliuer; but not with perswading credit to all their Readers.

Whereas some say before he vs'd on foote to passe.

The allusion is to Britaines being heretosoreioyn'd to Gaule in this straight twixt Douer and Calais (some XXX. miles ouer) as some Modernes haue con∣iectur'd. That learned Antiquary 1. Twine is very confident in it, and deriues the Name from Brith signifying (as he sayes) as much as 〈◊〉〈◊〉. i. a separation in Welsh, whence the d 1.1268 Isle of Wight was so call'd; Guith and Wight being soone made of each other. Of this opinion is the late Verstegan, as you may read in him; and for examination of it, our Great light of Antiquity Camden hath pro∣posed diuers considerations, in which, experience of particulars must direct. Howsoeuer this was in truth, it is as likely, for ought I see, as that Cyprus was Once ioyn'd to Syria, Euboea (now Negroponte) to Boeotia, Atalante to Euboea, Belbicum to Bithynia, Leucosia to Thrace, as is e 1.1269 affirmed: and Sicily (whose like our Island is) was certainly broken off from the continent of Italy, as both Vir∣gil expresly, Strabo and Pliny deliuers; and also the names of Rhegium, f 1.1270 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, and of the selfe Sicily; which, rather then from g 1.1271 Secare, I deriue from h 1.1272 Sieilire, which is of the same signification and neerer in Analogie: Claudian call's the Isle
—* 1.1273 Diducta Britannia Mundo and Virgil hath
—* 1.1274 Toto diuisos Orbe Britannos;
Where Seruius is of opinion, that, for this purpose, the learned Poet vsed that phrase. And it deserues inquisition, how beasts of Rapine, as Foxes and such

like came first into this Island (for England and Wales, as now Scotland and Ire∣land, had store of Wolues, vntill some CCC. yeares since) if it were notioyn'd to a firm land, that either by like coniunction, or narrow passage of swimming might receiue them from that Continent where the Arkerested, which is Ar∣menia. That, men desired to transport them, is not likely: and a learned i 1.1275 Ie∣suit hath coniectured, that the West Indies are therefore, or haue beene, ioyn'd with firme land, because they haue Lions, Wolues, Panthers and such like, which in the Barmudez, Cuba, Hispaniola, S. Domingo, and other remote Isles, are not found. But no place here to dispute the question.

Not suffring forein lawes should thy free customes binde.

To explane it, I thus English you a fragment of an old k 1.1276 Monke: When the Norman Conqueror had the day, he came to Douer Castle, that he might with the same subdue Kent also; wherefore, Stigand Archbishop, and Egelsin Abbot, as the chiefe of that Shire; obseruing that now whereas heretofore no Villeins (the Latine is Nullus fuerat seruus, & applying it to Our Law phrase, I translate it) had beene in England, they should be now all in bondage to the Normans, they assembled all the County, and shewed the imminent dangers, the insolence of the Normans, and the hard condition of Villenage: They, resoluing all rather to die then lose their free∣dome, purpose to encounter with the Duke for their Countries liberties. Their Cap∣taines are the Archbishop and the Abbot. Vpon an appointed day they meete all at Swanescomb, and harbouring themselues in the woods, with Boughes in euery mans hand, they incompasse his way. The next day, the Duke comming by Swanescomb, seemed to see with amazement, as it were a wood approching towards him, the Ken∣tish men at the sound of a Trumpet take themselues to Armes, when presently the Archbishop and Abbot were sent to the Duke and saluted him with these words: Behold, Sir Duke, the Kentish men come to meet you, willing to receiue you as their Liege Lord, vpon that condition, that they may for euer enioy their ancient Liber∣ties and Laws vsed among their 〈◊〉〈◊〉; otherwise, presently offering warre; being readie rather to die, then vndergoe a yoake of Bondage, and loose their ancient Laws. The Norman in this narrow Pinch, not so willingly, as wisely, granted the desire: and hostages giuen on both sides, the Kentish men direct the Normans to Rochester, and deliuer them the County and the Castle of Douer. Hither is commonly referr'd the retayning of ancient liberties in Kent. Indeed it is certaine that speciall customes they haue in their Gauelkind (although now many of their Gentle∣mens Possessions l 1.1277 are altered in that part) suffering for Felony, without forfei∣ture of estate, and such like, as in particular, with many other deligent traditi∣ons you haue in Lambards Perambulation: yetthe report of Thomas Spot, is not, me thinkes, of cleere credit, as wellby reason that no warrant of the Histo∣rians about the Conquest affirmes it (and this Monke liued vnder Ed. I.) as also for his commixture of a fauxete about Villenage, saying it was not in England before that time, which is apparantly false by diuers testimonies. m 1.1278 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 (sayes King Ines lawes) 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 on Sunnan 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. be 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 he 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉; &, vnder Edward the Confessor, n 1.1279 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Beuchenale grants to the Abbey of Crowland his Mannor of Spalding, with all the Appurtenances, Sci∣licet o 1.1280 Colgrinum praepositum meum, & totam sequelam suam, cum omnibus bonis & catallis, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 habet in dicta Villa, &c. Item Hardingum Fabrum & totam seque∣lam suam; and the yong wench of Andeuer, that Edgar was in loue with, was a Nief. But for Kent, perhaps it might be true, that no villeins were in it, seeing since that time it hath been adiudg'd in our Law, that One Borne there could not without Conisans of Record be a Villein.

And foremost euer plac't when they shall reckon'd bee.

For this honor of the Kentish, heare one s 1.1281 that wrote it about Hen. II. * 1.1282 Enu∣dus (as some Copies are, but others, Cinidus; and perhaps it should so be, or ra∣ther Cnudus, for K. Cnut; or els I cannot coniecture what) quantâ virtute An∣glorum, Dacos Danosq fregerit 〈◊〉〈◊〉 compescuerit Noricorum, vel ex eo perspi∣cuum est, quod ob egregiae virtutis meritum quam ibidem potentèr & patentèr exer∣cuit, Cantia Nostra, primae Cohortis honorem & primus Congressus Hostium vsque in Hodiernum diem in omnibus pralijs obtinet. Prouincia quóque Seueria∣na, quae moderno vsu & nomine ab incolis Wiltesira vocatur, eodem iure sibi vendi∣cat Cohortemsubsidiariam, adiectâ sibi Deuoniâ & Cornubiâ. Briefly, it had the first English King, in it was the first Christianity among the English, and Can∣terbury then honor'd with the Metropolitique See: all which giue note of Ho∣norable Prerogatiue.

Grim Godwin but the while seemes grieuously to lowre.

That is Godwin-sands, which is reported to haue beene the Patrimony t 1.1283 of that Godwin Earle of Kent, vnder Edward the Confessor, swallow'd into the Oce∣an by strange Tempest somewhat after the Conquest, and is now as a floating Isle or Quicksand, very dangerous to Sailers, sometime as fixt, sometime mo∣uing, as the Muse describes.

Notes

• a 1.1

  The Western or Spanish O∣cean.
• b 1.2

  The coast of little Britaine in France.
• c 1.3

  The furthest Ile in the Bri∣tish Ocean.
• d 1.4

  The Sea vpon the north of Scotland.
• e 1.5

  The old Bri∣tish Poets.
• f 1.6

  Priests a∣mongst the an∣cient Britaines.
• g 1.7

  The French Seas.
• a 1.8

  A smal Iland vpon the very point of Corn∣wall.
• b 1.9

  A hill lying out, as an el∣bowe of land, into the Sea.
• * 1.10

  A place al∣most inuironed with water, wel∣neer an Iland.
• * 1.11

  The brauery of Flamouth Hauen. This hath also the name of Alan.
• * 1.12

  The brauery of Flamouth Hauen. This hath also the name of Alan.
• * 1.13

  A worthy Gentleman, who writ the description of Cornwall. The words of Art in wrast∣ling.
• * 1.14

  The praise of Plymouth.
• * 1.15

  A worthy Gentleman, who writ the description of Cornwall. The words of Art in wrast∣ling.
• * 1.16

  Our first great wrastler ariuing heere with Brute.
• * 1.17

  Assaracus.
• * 1.18

  One of the titles of Diana.
• * 1.19

  The descrip∣tion of the wrastling be∣twixt Corineus and Gogmagog.
• a 1.20

  Rabbin. ad 10. Dan. Macrob. Saturnal. 3. cap. 9. Symmach. Epist. 40. leb. 1. D. Th. 2. dist. 10. art. 3. alij.
• * 1.21

  God afore.
• b 1.22

  Rob. Auesburi∣ens. A. XVII. Ed. III. The fortunate 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• a 1.23

  Hypodigmatis Neustriae locus emendatus, sub anno 〈◊〉〈◊〉. CCC. XLIV.
• b 1.24

  Pompon. Mela l. 2. 6. 7.
• * 1.25

  Happy. Vtmost ends of the earth. Vpon affinity of this with the Cape de Finistere, Goro∣pius thinkes the Elisian fields were by that Promontory of Spaine. v. Strab. lib. 7. A passing of soules from one to another.
• c 1.26

  Iliad.9. & He∣siod. in Theogon.
• d 1.27

  Plutar. de fa∣cie in Orbe Lu∣nae. & l. de defect oracul.
• * 1.28

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
• e 1.29

  Rablais.
• f 1.30

  Clem. Alexan∣drin. stromat. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Odyss. of. Iliad. 0.
• * 1.31

  Happy. Vtmost ends of the earth. Vpon affinity of this with the Cape de Finistere, Goro∣pius thinkes the Elisian fields were by that Promontory of Spaine. v. Strab. lib. 7. A passing of soules from one to another.
• g 1.32

  Plin. hist. nat. 16. cap. 44.
• h 1.33

  Eustat. ad Iliad 7 Herodot. lib. 7. Suid. in 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Censorin. de die nat. cap. 17.
• * 1.34

  Happy. Vtmost ends of the earth. Vpon affinity of this with the Cape de Finistere, Goro∣pius thinkes the Elisian fields were by that Promontory of Spaine. v. Strab. lib. 7. A passing of soules from one to another.
• i 1.35

  Physiolog. Stoic. l. 3. dissert. 12.
• a 1.36

  Iustin 〈◊〉〈◊〉
• * 1.37

  Spare in spen∣ding their liues. which they hoped to receiue againe. The Gaules call them Iupi∣ters Priests or Bawdes. Vaine.
• b 1.38

  Cicer. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 1.
• c 1.39

  Ioann 〈◊〉〈◊〉. iampridem Etoniae gracè editus.
• * 1.40

  Spare in spen∣ding their liues. which they hoped to receiue againe. The Gaules call them Iupi∣ters Priests or Bawdes. Vaine.
• * 1.41

  Spare in spen∣ding their liues. which they hoped to receiue againe. The Gaules call them Iupi∣ters Priests or Bawdes. Vaine.
• d 1.42

  Solin. Polzhist. cap. 35.
• e 1.43

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Dio∣nys. Asro in 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 muitis. n. pro arbitrio anti∣quorum S. literae adest vel abefi. v. Casaubon. ad a. Strab.
• f 1.44

  Origen. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. lib. a. Clem. Alex strom. & b. Diogen. Laert. lib. a. Coniecture vpon Mela.
• g 1.45

  Festo 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Insula sacra di∣cta Hihernta.
• h 1.46

  Girald. Caem∣brens. dist. 3. cap. 2.
• i 1.47

  Assuerus Cor∣donnier (dict{us} in historiâ Gallicâ Victoris ante triennium editâ de la paeix &c.) cuius partes olim egisse videntur Iosephus Charto∣phylacius (refe∣rente Episcepo Armeniato apud Matth. Paris in Hen. 3.) & Io∣annes 〈◊〉〈◊〉 (Gui∣dom Bonato in Astrologiá indigitat{us}) But∣ta-dius.
• i 1.48

  In Bibliothec. Floriacens edit. per Ioann. à bosco.
• k 1.49

  Carew descript. Corn. lib. 2.
• * 1.50

  Dictus hine in Merlini vatici∣nio, Aper Cor∣nubia.
• l 1.51

  Euripid. An∣dromach. Bastards are ofttimes bet∣ter then. legiti∣mates.
• * 1.52

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
• a 1.53

  Orteliusthea∣tro.
• b 1.54

  Thucydid. a & passim. de A∣then & Lace∣daem. & de The∣bis & Chalcide v. Columell. 1. de re rustic. cap. 4.
• c 1.55

  Onesicrit ap. Strabon. lib. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• d 1.56

  Ap. Censorin. de die nat. cap. 21. Christoph. Heluics Chrono∣logiā sequimur, nec, vt accurati∣ùs temporum subductioni hoc loci incumba∣m{us}, res postulat; verùm & ille satis accuraté, qui Samuelis praefecturam A. M 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. DCCC. L. haùt iniquo computo posuit.
• e 1.57

  10. Pris. def. hist. Brit.
• f 1.58

  Ex vetuftiss & perpulchrè m. s. Nennio sub titu∣lo Gildae.
• g 1.59

  L. b. de summi∣tatib{us} rerum qui 10. est historia∣rum in m. s. Huntingdon began his History at Casar, but vpon better inquisition added Brute. Librū illum, in quera ait se incidis∣se, Nennium fuisse obsignatis fermè tabulis sum potis adserere.
• a 1.60

  Harding. Nich. Vpton. de re militari. 2.
• b 1.61

  C.tit. de profes∣sorib. l. vnica.
• c 1.62

  Girald de∣script. cap. 15.
• d 1.63

  Camden.
• e 1.64

  Agesianax ap. Strab. lib. 31.
• f 1.65

  Trog. Pomp. lib. 31.
• g 1.66

  Melebior Can{us} lib. 11. de aut. hist. hum. de his plurima.
• h 1.67

  Origen. ad 3 5. Matth.
• * 1.68

  See the VI. Song.
• i 1.69

  Procopius de bell. V andilic. lib. 7.
• k 1.70

  Ad Cyg. Cant.
• k 1.71

  AEneid. 6. & ibid 〈◊〉〈◊〉. After thy death Lauinia brings a King borne in the woods, father of kings.
• l 1.72

  Basingstoch. lib. 1.
• m 1.73

  Cicer. de diui∣nat. lib. 2.
• n 1.74

  10. Lidgat. lib. de bell. Troian. 5. & alibi saepi{us}.
• o 1.75

  Chronic. S. Al∣bani.
• p 1.76

  Hugo de Ge∣nes. ap. Harding. cap. 3.
• q 1.77

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 in Laconic.
• * 1.78

  Happy. From white cliffs. In the hils of Britany. British Isles.
• * 1.79

  Happy. From white cliffs. In the hils of Britany. British Isles.
• r 1.80

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Euripides in Andromachâ, magis 〈◊〉〈◊〉, quam 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 quod canit Die∣nysius Afer.
• s 1.81

  Strabo lib. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. & Sixt. Pompeius in Alpum.
• t 1.82

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. Lhuid. in Breuiar.
• u 1.83

  Moschion ap. Athen. dipno∣soph. 1.
• * 1.84

  Happy. From white cliffs. In the hils of Britany. British Isles.
• x 1.85

  Thucydid. hift 6.
• * 1.86

  Happy. From white cliffs. In the hils of Britany. British Isles.
• y 1.87

  Polyb. hist. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. qui 1. Casarem C C. fermè annot anteuertit.
• * 1.88

  The white Isle.
• a 1.89

  Vranius in A∣rabic. ap. Steph. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• b 1.90

  Gen. 36. Num. 20.
• c 1.91

  Iesai. 23. Iirm. 2.
• d 1.92

  Odyss. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. fortè tamen, fluuius Aegypti, vt Hebraeis 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Gen. 15. commat. 17
• e 1.93

  Pausan. Arca∣dic. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• f 1.94

  Festus in Al∣cedo.
• g 1.95

  Nebrissens. in quinquagen. cap. 49.
• h 1.96

  Camden.
• i 1.97

  Vocabulo 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 vsi sunt AEschylus, So∣phocles, Hellani∣c{us}, Archiloch{us}, Hecata{us} ap. A∣thenaeum dip∣nosoph. 10. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 eiusdem ferè naturae cum Sy∣tho & Curmithe apud Dioscori∣dem lib. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. cap. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. fortè 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• k 1.98

  Andrè du Chesne en les recerchez des villes 1. ca. 122.
• l 1.99

  Goropius in Hispanic. 4. 7. Strab. geograph. 7. & alios de Olyssippone.
• m 1.100

  Solin. Poly∣hist. cap. 35.
• n 1.101

  Rabbi E'eazar ap. Riccium in epit. Talmud. caterum in bâc re allegoriam 7. ap. D. Cyprianū serm. de montib. Sina & Sion.
• a 1.102

  II. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• b 1.103

  Bed. hist. Ec∣clesiast. 5. cap. 17
• c 1.104

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Baruch. cap. 7. Consuie, si pla∣cet, 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Becan. 〈1 line〉〈1 line〉
• d 1.105

  Sueton. Octau. cap. 71.
• e 1.106

  Dio Cass. lib. 7.
• f 1.107

  Polyaen. strata∣gemat. n. in Cae∣sara.
• g 1.108

  Cornugallia dicta est Henri∣co Huntingdo∣nio, alijs.
• h 1.109

  Strabo lib. 7. & 1. Steph. Mel. Plin. Geogra∣phipassim.
• * 1.110

  Rams head.
• i 1.111

  Seleucus ap. Steph. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. & Suid. in Board.
• k 1.112

  De gest. reg. 2. cap. 6.
• l 1.113

  Rob. Gloce∣strens.
• m 1.114

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. LXXX. VII.
• n 1.115

  Audacter lege ducentos 〈◊〉〈◊〉 & trecentos in fol. 237. Hone∣deni, cui prolo∣gum libro quinto H. Huntindon. committas licet. Dangelt shewed against a com∣mon error, both in remis∣sion and insti∣tution.
• o 1.116

  Mariano Sco∣to XXXVI. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. librae, & 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Wigorn.
• * 1.117

  Chronologiam hùc spectantem consulas in illu∣strat. ad. 4. Cant.
• a 1.118

  Ian, Douz. Annal. Holland. 1. & 6.
• b 1.119

  Procopius in frag. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. lib. Go∣thic. ap. Camden. Name of Eng∣land.
• c 1.120

  Policratic. lib. 6. cap. 17.
• * 1.121

  Britaine sings in Hengists tongue.
• d 1.122

  Chronic. S. Al∣bani. Hector Boet. Scoter. hist. 7.
• e 1.123

  I. Gower Epi∣gram. in confess. amantis.
• * 1.124

  Britaine sings in Hengists tongue.
• * 1.125

  By Act of Par∣liament 21. Hen. 8.
• * 1.126

  The beautie of the many Swannes vpon the Chesills, no∣ted in this Poë∣ticall delicacie.
• a 1.127

  Sea-Nymphs.
• b 1.128

  A kind of neck-laces worne by coū∣try wenches.
• * 1.129

  Frampton.
• a 1.130

  Monsters of the Sea, suppo∣sed Neptunes Gard.
• b 1.131

  The ancient name of Pid∣dle.
• * 1.132

  The storie of Poole.
• * 1.133

  Stour riseth from six foun∣taines.
• c 1.134

  Cranburn Chase.
• d 1.135

  Holt Forest.
• a 1.136

  A wood in English.
• * 1.137

  The Forests of Hampshire, with their situ∣ations.
• b 1.138

  Nymphs that liue & die with Oakes.
• * 1.139

  A Poole neer vnto Alresford, yeelding an vn∣usual abūdance of water.
• * 1.140

  Curtius, that for his coun∣tries sake so la∣uished his life. Loftie.
• * 1.141

  Curtius, that for his coun∣tries sake so la∣uished his life. Loftie.
• a 1.142

  Ile of Wight.
• b 1.143

  The Fore∣lands of Corn∣wall and Kent.
• b 1.144

  The Fore∣lands of Corn∣wall and Kent.
• * 1.145

  The Solent.
• c 1.146

  Two Castles in the Sea.
• * 1.147

  Portsmouth.
• a 1.148

  Neptunes Trumpeters.
• b 1.149

  Proteus, a Sea-god, chan∣ging himselfe into any shape.
• * 1.150

  A poëticall de∣scription of the Soleut Sea.
• c 1.151

  Tichfield Ri∣uer.
• d 1.152

  Another little hill in Hamp∣shire.
• a 1.153

  The great & ancient forest of Warwick∣shire.
• b 1.154

  The goodly forest by No∣tingham.
• a 1.155

  Apud Plin. hist. nat. lib. 13. cap. 25.
• * 1.156

  Isis haire. Isis of the Sea. Loosehaird. A Ethiopian∣sunneburnt. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 wel hai∣red, and pretty∣footed; two speciall com∣mendations, dispersed in Greeke Poets, ioyned in Luci∣lium.
• b 1.157

  Leland. ad Cyg. Cant.
• * 1.158

  Ouse.
• * 1.159

  Isis haire. Isis of the Sea. Loosehaird. A Ethiopian∣sunneburnt. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 wel hai∣red, and pretty∣footed; two speciall com∣mendations, dispersed in Greeke Poets, ioyned in Luci∣lium.
• c 1.160

  Goltz. thes. antiq.
• d 1.161

  Philostrat. in six.
• * 1.162

  Isis haire. Isis of the Sea. Loosehaird. A Ethiopian∣sunneburnt. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 wel hai∣red, and pretty∣footed; two speciall com∣mendations, dispersed in Greeke Poets, ioyned in Luci∣lium.
• e 1.163

  Lucian. in six.
• * 1.164

  Isis haire. Isis of the Sea. Loosehaird. A Ethiopian∣sunneburnt. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 wel hai∣red, and pretty∣footed; two speciall com∣mendations, dispersed in Greeke Poets, ioyned in Luci∣lium.
• f 1.165

  Aduers. gent. 1. Blacke-haire.
• * 1.166

  Isis haire. Isis of the Sea. Loosehaird. A Ethiopian∣sunneburnt. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 wel hai∣red, and pretty∣footed; two speciall com∣mendations, dispersed in Greeke Poets, ioyned in Luci∣lium.
• g 1.167

  Camden.
• * 1.168

  Destruction of woods.
• * 1.169

  Isles newly out of the Sea.
• h 1.170

  Lucian dialog. Pindar. olymp.{is}. Strab. Pausani∣as.
• * 1.171

  A Sea three miles ouer, cal∣led Solente. lib. 4 hist. eccles. cap. :6.
• * 1.172

  1 Malmesb. lib. 2. de Pontifie. S. Edwards. D C C C C. 1. XXXX.
• k 1.173

  Camden takes this Cair for Bath.
• l 1.174

  Harding a∣mended.
• m 1.175

  Twin. in Albi∣onic. 2. See the 5. Song.
• * 1.176

  He plainly said that there would be a time of this re∣uerting of the Crowne. Hist. Scot. lib. 5. in Cong allo. His.
• n 1.177

  Distinct. Aquil Sceptoniae. A prophecie of an Angell to Cadwallader.
• o 1.178

  A Scepter in steed of a sword first in Hen. the thirds seale, but beleeue him not; the seales of those times giue no warrant for it: and euen in K. Arthurs, Leland sayes, there was a fleury Scep∣ter; but that perhaps as fai∣ned, as this false.
• * 1.179

  He plainly said that there would be a time of this re∣uerting of the Crowne. Hist. Scot. lib. 5. in Cong allo. His.
• p 1.180

  Matth. Paris post Hen. Hun∣tingd. and vnder Will. II. it was capital to steale Deere.
• q 1.181

  Robert. Glo∣cestrens.
• * 1.182

  He plainly said that there would be a time of this re∣uerting of the Crowne. Hist. Scot. lib. 5. in Cong allo. His.
• * 1.183

  With. Pastures. Tocke. Shot by Wal∣ter Tirell. His owne.
• * 1.184

  With. Pastures. Tocke. Shot by Wal∣ter Tirell. His owne.
• * 1.185

  With. Pastures. Tocke. Shot by Wal∣ter Tirell. His owne.
• * 1.186

  With. Pastures. Tocke. Shot by Wal∣ter Tirell. His owne.
• * 1.187

  With. Pastures. Tocke. Shot by Wal∣ter Tirell. His owne.
• * 1.188

  With. Pastures. Tocke. Shot by Wal∣ter Tirell. His owne.
• r 1.189

  Lucian. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
• * 1.190

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
• s 1.191

  Olymp. a. & Nem. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
• * 1.192

  G'astenburie.
• a 1.193

  The goodly Church at Sa∣lisburie.
• b 1.194

  Two places famous for Hares, the one in Buching ham∣shire, the other in North-hamp∣tonshire.
• c 1.195

  Eurley war∣ren of Hares.
• d 1.196

  The furthest part of Scotlād.
• * 1.197

  Gant.
• e 1.198

  A famous Yorkeshire hors∣race.
• f 1.199

  The best kind of Scotish nags.
• * 1.200

  The Western hounds gene∣rally the best.
• g 1.201

  Stonendge the greatest Won∣der of England.
• * 1.202

  Salisbury∣Plaine.
• a 1.203

  A Forest 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Sommer∣setshire.
• b 1.204

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 vs∣der the earth.
• * 1.205

  Wilton of Wil∣lie, and Wilt∣shire of Wilton.
• c 1.206

  A Forest in Wiltshire, as the Map will tell you.
• d 1.207

  The French Sea, as you haue in the note before.
• a 1.208

  The Plaine of Salisburies speech in de∣fence of all Plaines.
• * 1.209

  Boggy pla∣ces. A word frequent in Lancashire.
• * 1.210

  Diuers hils neere & about Salisbury Plaine.
• * 1.211

  Minerua and Hercules, the protectors of these fountains.
• * 1.212

  The delicacies of Bristow.
• * 1.213

  A catalog of many wonders of this Land.
• a 1.214

  The Diuels 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• b 1.215

  The Salt Wels in Ches∣shire.
• c 1.216

  Bruertons pond.
• d 1.217

  A riuer by Westchester.
• e 1.218

  By sundry soiles of Bri∣taine.
• f 1.219

  Our Pikes, ript and sow'd vp, liue.
• g 1.220

  Barnacles a bird breeding vpon old ships.
• h 1.221

  Wondrous Springs in Wales.
• i 1.222

  Sheepe.
• a 1.223

  Ioseph of Ari∣mathea.
• b 1.224

  The won∣drous tree at Glastenbury.
• * 1.225

  Fruitful Moors on the bankes of Bry.
• * 1.226

  A supposed prophecie vpó Parret.
• * 1.227

  Ivel: from which, the town Ivelis denominated. Homer.
• * 1.228

  Ivel: from which, the town Ivelis denominated. Homer.
• a 1.229

  One of the fruitfull places of this Land.
• b 1.230

  Interpreted the noble Ile.
• * 1.231

  Rob. Gloce∣slrens.
• * 1.232

  Hen. 111. Willielm. de longs spatha. Richard Poore.
• * 1.233

  Hen. 111. Willielm. de longs spatha. Richard Poore.
• * 1.234

  Hen. 111. Willielm. de longs spatha. Richard Poore.
• a 1.235

  In his Sonets.
• b 1.236

  Histor lib. 1.
• * 1.237

  i. Take your swords. Not one of the stones but is good for somwhat in Physique. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Ad Germ. Tacit. Woden or Wonden.
• c 1.238

  Girald. Cam∣brensis Topo∣graph. Hib. dist. 2. cap. 18. Chorea gigan∣tum.
• * 1.239

  i. Take your swords. Not one of the stones but is good for somwhat in Physique. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Ad Germ. Tacit. Woden or Wonden.
• d 1.240

  Apud Mun∣ster. ad Dtuter. 3. If among them there be a Whetstone, let the Iew haue it.
• e 1.241

  Powel ad lib. 2. cap. 9. Girald. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• f 1.242

  Aristot. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• * 1.243

  i. Take your swords. Not one of the stones but is good for somwhat in Physique. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Ad Germ. Tacit. Woden or Wonden.
• * 1.244

  i. Take your swords. Not one of the stones but is good for somwhat in Physique. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Ad Germ. Tacit. Woden or Wonden.
• * 1.245

  Irmunrull. Sax. Mercury. Adam Bremens. cap. 5. & Hence 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• g 1.246

  Pausan. saepiùs & Theocrit. sid. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• h 1.247

  Prouerb. 26. v. 8.
• a 1.248

  In Thucydid. & Liu.
• b 1.249

  Leland. ad cyg∣cant. in Iside.
• * 1.250

  i. The Physi∣tians lake.
• c 1.251

  Apud. Cai. de antiq. Canta∣brig. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 2. & Cod. Nig. Can∣tabr. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 aut. assert. antiq. Oxon.
• d 1.252

  Ad Cyg. Cant. in Iside & Isid. v4d.
• * 1.253

  Curu us Graecus sermo Britanic Galfred. Monu∣meth. lib. 1.
• e 1.254

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. Natu∣ral. quaest. lib. 3. cap. 24.
• f 1.255

  Pyndar. Pyth. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• g 1.256

  Ex antiq. sched.
• * 1.257

  See the Au∣thors 8. Song.
• h 1.258

  Bal. cent. 1.
• i 1.259

  Malmesbury lib. 2. Pontific.
• a 1.260

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 in Itinerario.
• * 1.261

  Waters of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Or, Ochy.
• * 1.262

  Waters of the 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Or, Ochy.
• b 1.263

  Beat. Rhenan. lib. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. rer. Ger∣manic.
• c 1.264

  Ortelius theat. mundi.
• * 1.265

  The wonders of England.
• d 1.266

  Hermathen. lib. 5.
• e 1.267

  Euterpe.
• f 1.268

  Chronicon. Glasconiens.
• a 1.269

  Taliessin. ap. Pris. defens. hist. Brit.
• b 1.270

  Dan Lidgat. lib. 8. vers. Boc∣cat. cap. 24. Naenias ad has refert Alanus de Insulis illud 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vatici∣nium. Exit{us} eius dubius 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.271

  Hic iacet 〈◊〉〈◊〉 quon∣dam Rexque su∣turus. Noble Coun∣seller. The work∣manship of the Ditches, Wals, and strange steepnes of them, makes it seeme a wonder of Art and Nature.
• * 1.272

  Hic iacet 〈◊〉〈◊〉 quon∣dam Rexque su∣turus. Noble Coun∣seller. The work∣manship of the Ditches, Wals, and strange steepnes of them, makes it seeme a wonder of Art and Nature.
• * 1.273

  Hic iacet 〈◊〉〈◊〉 quon∣dam Rexque su∣turus. Noble Coun∣seller. The work∣manship of the Ditches, Wals, and strange steepnes of them, makes it seeme a wonder of Art and Nature.
• * 1.274

  First Christiani∣tie in Britaine: but see the VIII. Song.
• * 1.275

  It was called the mother and tomb of the Saints.
• * 1.276

  A Hawthorne blossoming in Winter.
• * 1.277

  Hic iacet 〈◊〉〈◊〉 quon∣dam Rexque su∣turus. Noble Coun∣seller. The work∣manship of the Ditches, Wals, and strange steepnes of them, makes it seeme a wonder of Art and Nature.
• a 1.278

  From Eng∣land or Wales.
• a 1.279

  Certaine little Iles lying with∣in Seuerne.
• * 1.280

  Severne.
• b 1.281

  Wales.
• c 1.282

  England.
• d 1.283

  Albion, Nep∣tunes son, war∣red with Her∣cules.
• e 1.284

  The Bathes. All these Ri∣uers you may see in the third Song.
• a 1.285

  Floods of North-wales.
• b 1.286

  Glamorgan & Mōmouthshires.
• c 1.287

  A supposed metamorpho∣sis of Brecans daughters.
• * 1.288

  Monmouth.
• a 1.289

  Henry the fift, stiled of Mon∣mouth.
• b 1.290

  A maritime hill in Catrnay∣uan Shire.
• c 1.291

  Hils diuiding Spaine and France.
• * 1.292

  Glamorgan. A word, vsed by the Anci∣ents, signify∣ing to versify.
• a 1.293

  A kind of Trench.
• b 1.294

  Englins, Coriths, and Ardells, British formes of verses. See the Illustrati∣ons.
• * 1.295

  Glamorgan. A word, vsed by the Anci∣ents, signify∣ing to versify.
• c 1.296

  Saint Wini∣frids Well.
• d 1.297

  A glistring Rock in Mon∣mouthshire.
• a 1.298

  See the eight Song.
• b 1.299

  In Monmoth∣shire.
• a 1.300

  Arthur, one of the nine Worthies.
• b 1.301

  K. Arthur.
• * 1.302

  The sundry Musiques of England.
• * 1.303

  Gen. 11. 8. 9.
• * 1.304

  The Normans and the Saxons of one blood.
• * 1.305

  The Normans lost that name and became English.
• a 1.306

  These & the rest following, the famouselt Hills in Breck∣nocke, Glamor∣gan, and Mon∣mouth.
• a 1.307

  Wclch-hook.
• b 1.308

  So named of his bald head.
• a 1.309

  Tho. dela Moore emen∣datus.
• b 1.310

  Dererum na∣tural. lib. 1.
• * 1.311

  Tripartit di∣uision of Wales.
• * 1.312

  Girald. descript cap. 2. & Powel ad Caradoc. Lancharuan.
• * 1.313

  So called per∣haps because it is almost ini∣sled within the Sea, and Lhogor as Rosay in Scotland, ex∣pressing almost an Ile. Bucha∣nan. hist. 5. in Eugenio. 4.
• d 1.314

  Pris. in de∣script. Walliae.
• a 1.315

  Antiquis 〈◊〉〈◊〉 certa∣minafuisse doce∣mur a scholiast. Aristoph. & D. Cypriano 〈◊〉〈◊〉. de Aleator. Censure vpon bookes publi∣shed.
• a 1.316

  Camd. in Epist. Fulconi Greuil. ad edit. Anglie. Norm. &c.
• * 1.317

  Did sing the valiant deeds of famous men to the sweete melody of the Harpe. S. Mary. For the Harp and other mu∣sique instru∣ments, their forme and anti∣quity, see to the V I. Song; whether a spe∣ciall occasion compeld at. Quantity of the Bards verses. Forme of the British musique. To make them gentle 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• c 1.318

  Amnian Mar∣celin. hist. 15.
• d 1.319

  Parte secondae cap. 4. & 5.
• e 1.320

  Dau. Pouel. ad Girald. descript. cap. 3.
• f 1.321

  Suid. in 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.322

  Did sing the valiant deeds of famous men to the sweete melody of the Harpe. S. Mary. For the Harp and other mu∣sique instru∣ments, their forme and anti∣quity, see to the V I. Song; whether a spe∣ciall occasion compeld at. Quantity of the Bards verses. Forme of the British musique. To make them gentle 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• g 1.323

  Marcian. Heracleot. in 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• * 1.324

  Did sing the valiant deeds of famous men to the sweete melody of the Harpe. S. Mary. For the Harp and other mu∣sique instru∣ments, their forme and anti∣quity, see to the V I. Song; whether a spe∣ciall occasion compeld at. Quantity of the Bards verses. Forme of the British musique. To make them gentle 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• h 1.325

  Girald. Topog. dist. 3. cap. 11.
• i 1.326

  30. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 3. fol. 20.
• * 1.327

  Tropelophor{us} dict{us} in menolo∣gio Graeco apud Baronium, sorte 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 siue 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, quid n. Trope∣lophorus?
• k 1.328

  Faery Q lib. 1.
• l 1.329

  C. Sancta Rom. eccles. 3. dist. 15. Gelasius PP.
• m 1.330

  Ord. Rom. de diuin. of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 d∣pud Baronium in martyrolog.
• n 1.331

  Harding cap. 7. 2.
• o 1.332

  Th. de Walsing. A. M. C C C. L. & XXIV. Ed. III. Fabian puts it before this yeare, but erro∣niously.
• p 1.333

  Ex antiq. m. s. ap. Camd. in Berkscir.
• m 1.334

  Die ge 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 S. Geoigen 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• q 1.335

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 CD. XXCV III.
• r 1.336

  10. Hen. 8. in statutis Hiberni∣cis.
• * 1.337

  Martin. Crus. annal. Sueuic. part. 2. lib. 9.
• a 1.338

  Polychronic. lib. 1. cap. 52.
• b 1.339

  Bal. cent. 1.
• c 1.340

  Nennius. bistor. Galfred. lib. 6. cap. 2. & lib. 7. cap. 2. Beginning of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and crests.
• d 1.341

  A 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Euripid in 〈◊〉〈◊〉. The Dragon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and Standard of England.
• * 1.342

  Lips. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Polyb 4. dissert. 5.
• f 1.343

  Pindar. Pythio∣nic. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Homer. Iliad. l. suid. Epa∣minond. Hesiod. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Plutarch. Ly∣sand. Euripid. in 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• g 1.344

  Camden.
• h 1.345

  Suid. in Iusti∣nian. No seales be∣fore the Con∣quest.
• i 1.346

  Ingulphas.
• * 1.347

  Emperour of Britaine, Gaule, Germany, and Danmarke; for so they falsly turned Dacia.
• k 1.348

  Plaut. in Sti∣cho.
• * 1.349

  Knights and Ladies sate in seuerall rooms.
• a 1.350

  Scholaft. ad Aristophan. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 & Suidas Round Tables.
• b 1.351

  Gemos. halo∣graph. lib. 3. cap. 9.
• * 1.352

  Armigeri, which is exprest in the word Schilpors in Paul Warnfred. lib. 2. de gest. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. cap. 28. The Knights of the Round Table vse to ferry spirits o∣uer Styx, Ache∣ron, and other 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and for their fare haue a fillip on the nose and a peece of moul∣dy bread.
• c 1.353

  Dipnosoph. lib. of.
• d 1.354

  Hoppenrod & spangberg. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Ortelium in Mansfeld. Many places in Wales in hills and rockes, ho∣nor'd with Ar∣thurs name. Pris. defens. hist. Brit. & Cadair Arthur. i. Arthurs Chaire in Brecknock. Girald. Itin. Camb. cap. 2. & Arthurs Duen in Stitling of Scotland.
• e 1.355

  Liure 2. chapit. 30.
• * 1.356

  Armigeri, which is exprest in the word Schilpors in Paul Warnfred. lib. 2. de gest. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. cap. 28. The Knights of the Round Table vse to ferry spirits o∣uer Styx, Ache∣ron, and other 〈◊〉〈◊〉, and for their fare haue a fillip on the nose and a peece of moul∣dy bread.
• b 1.357

  Girald. Itiner. Camb. 2. cap. 8.
• c 1.358

  Orland. Furios. cant. 3. See Spencers Faery Q. lib. 3. cant. 3.
• d 1.359

  Gen. 10.
• e 1.360

  Munster. Cosm. lib. 3.
• f 1.361

  Goropius in Indoscythic.
• g 1.362

  Iodoc. Willich. con. m. ad Tacit. Germaniam. & Pantaleon lib. 1. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• h 1.363

  Elias Leuit. in Thist. Arias Mont. in Peleg.
• i 1.364

  Strab. lib. 7. 16. & 15. de alijs que his congeri∣mus.
• k 1.365

  Broughton in concent. pref.
• l 1.366

  Pet. Kirstenius Grammaticae Arabicae sub∣iunxit.
• m 1.367

  Scalig. in pro∣iegom. ad emen∣dat. temp.
• n 1.368

  Melancthan ap. Becan. in Indoscyth.
• a 1.369

  Ap. Camdenum
• b 1.370

  Dionys. Afer. in 〈◊〉〈◊〉. The English from their ori∣ginall, excellent Archers. See the VIII. Song.
• * 1.371

  The shoo∣ting Sacae none can teach them Art: For what they loos't at, neuer scapes their dart.
• c 1.372

  Strabo lib. 1 a.
• d 1.373

  Ptolem geo∣graph. lib. 7. cap. 17.
• e 1.374

  Herodot. Poly∣hymn. Xenoph. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Strabo lib. 11.
• * 1.375

  See the 8. Song
• f 1.376

  Iustin. lib. 24. & 41. Herodot. Clio. Wasingh. Hypodig. Neust. Gemetic és. lib. 1. cap. 4. Sabnis & Graecis morem hunc suisse me∣mini legisse me apud Varronem & Columellam.
• g 1.377

  Festus in eod. & Mamertinis.
• h 1.378

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Gen. 28. 14. Iesai. 54. 3.
• i 1.379

  Malmesb. lib. 4. de Pontisicib.
• * 1.380

  Mistakings in our Chronolo∣gies.
• b 1.381

  Paul. de Mi∣dleburgo part. 2. lib. 5.
• * 1.382

  Westrich.
• c 1.383

  Paul. A 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hist. Franc. 3.
• d 1.384

  Guil. Gemiti∣cens. lib. 2. cap. 17. An vnmanner∣ly homage.
• e 1.385

  Marcian. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. in 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• * 1.386

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. lib. 7. cap. 36. & lib. 3. cap. 18.
• a 1.387

  ff. rnde cogna∣ti l. 4. spurius. & tit. de grad. affin. l. 4. non facile.
• * 1.388

  Right of blood and kin∣dred comes on∣ly by lawfull marriage. A diuision, because he is separated from his fathers in∣heritance. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. LX. VI.
• b 1.389

  Histor. Cado∣mens.
• * 1.390

  Plantagenest.
• a 1.391

  Chirō brought vp Achilles, son to Thetis.
• b 1.392

  Iames the fourth, sirna∣med Steward, maried Marga∣ret, eldest daughter to Henry the 7. King of Eng∣land.
• * 1.393

  The seats of the Muses.
• * 1.394

  Severne, turn'd Sea.
• a 1.395

  A Poole or watry Moore.
• * 1.396

  Of South∣wales.
• b 1.397

  Ebbing and flowing with the Sea.
• * 1.398

  Merlin, borne in Caer-merd∣hin.
• a 1.399

  Passage into Penbrokrshire
• * 1.400

  The colony of Flemings here planted. See to the IV. Song.
• a 1.401

  Now Con∣stantinople.
• * 1.402

  Spaine.
• * 1.403

  The places frō whence the highest flying Hawkes are brought.
• * 1.404

  The Ilands vpon the point of Penbrooke∣shire.
• a 1.405

  Iliad 〈◊〉〈◊〉. & 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Odyss. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• b 1.406

  Hector Boet. lib. 12 et Bucha∣nan. in reg. 85. & 86. lib. 7. qui 〈◊〉〈◊〉; dem aeuo ci∣teriort Stuartos ait dictos, quos olim Thauos nuncupabant. Thani vcrò quaestoreserant regij per inter∣pretationem, vti Boetius. Certè in Charta illa quâ iure 〈◊〉〈◊〉 se Henrico II. obstrinxit 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Rex, leguntur in¦ter testes 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Curcy Seneschallus, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Filius Aldelmi Seneschalius, A∣lut edus de San∣cto Martino Seneschalius, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Malet Seneschallus, vnde 〈◊〉〈◊〉 fuisse hoc nomen 〈◊〉〈◊〉. horum bi∣nt desunt apud Houedenum ve∣rum ex 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Anonymo ms. excerpts.
• * 1.407

  Yorke and Lancaster. Forte Drusij (quod vult 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lib. 2. cap. 7. daemonoman.) quasi Syluani. aut Diyades. Durbitius di∣ctus Galsredo. Shrew now a word app'ted to the shrewish sex, but in Chau∣cer, Lidgat, and Gower to the quieter also.
• a 1.408

  Rabbi Abra∣ham in Zerror Hammor ap. Munst. ad 2. Genes.
• b 1.409

  Lib. 15. de Ciu. Dei cap. 23.
• * 1.410

  Yorke and Lancaster. Forte Drusij (quod vult 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lib. 2. cap. 7. daemonoman.) quasi Syluani. aut Diyades. Durbitius di∣ctus Galsredo. Shrew now a word app'ted to the shrewish sex, but in Chau∣cer, Lidgat, and Gower to the quieter also.
• c 1.411

  Gen. 6. 2.
• d 1.412

  Illustres saepius viros indigetant historici nostri Consules, vnde et AEtium adlo∣quuntar Saxo∣nos Cos, quem tam etsi Consulē 〈◊〉〈◊〉 haut asse∣rent Fasti, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 & in republicâ nobi∣lissimum Proco∣pij aliorumque historiae Gothicae produnt. See to the x. Song.
• * 1.413

  Yorke and Lancaster. Forte Drusij (quod vult 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lib. 2. cap. 7. daemonoman.) quasi Syluani. aut Diyades. Durbitius di∣ctus Galsredo. Shrew now a word app'ted to the shrewish sex, but in Chau∣cer, Lidgat, and Gower to the quieter also.
• * 1.414

  Yorke and Lancaster. Forte Drusij (quod vult 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lib. 2. cap. 7. daemonoman.) quasi Syluani. aut Diyades. Durbitius di∣ctus Galsredo. Shrew now a word app'ted to the shrewish sex, but in Chau∣cer, Lidgat, and Gower to the quieter also.
• e 1.415

  Spencers Faery Q lib. 3. cant. 3.
• f 1.416

  Giraid. Itin. 1. cap. 11. —Que te dementia cepit Querere sollicitè qued reperire times. Th. Mor. Epig.
• * 1.417

  Of Cuckol∣drie. Rablais.
• * 1.418

  Haukes.
• b 1.419

  Albert. de A∣nimal. 23. cap. 8.
• c 1.420

  Frederic. II. lib. 2. de arte Venand. cap. 4.
• d 1.421

  Monumeth. lib. 8. cap. 8. Girald. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 2. cap. 1. Bal. cent. 1. Vita S. Dewy.
• e 1.422

  Alan. de insul. 1. ad Proph. Merlin.
• a 1.423

  Giants
• * 1.424

  Falling of water.
• a 1.425

  The word in tumbling, whē one casteth himselfe ouer and ouer.
• a 1.426

  Of Cardigan.
• a 1.427

  Bacchus.
• * 1.428

  The storie of Severne
• a 1.429

  See to the fourth 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• b 1.430

  Henry the se∣cond.
• a 1.431

  Topograpb. Hib. dist. 1. cap. 21. Itin. Cam. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. cap. 3.
• b 1.432

  Pouel. & Cam∣den.
• * 1.433

  Girald. Topo∣graph. 3. dift. cap. 11.
• d 1.434

  Horat. Ep. od. 9
• e 1.435

  Plutarch. de Isid. & Osiride.
• f 1.436

  Horat. Carm. 3. od. 11. Homer in Hymn. ad. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Seru. Honorat. ad 4. A Eneid, (vbi testudinem primòtrium Chordarū, quam à Mercurio Caducei precio emisse Apollinem Septémque dis∣crimina vocum addidisse legim{us}, & videndus Diodor. Sicul. lib. a.) vnde 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 &c. di∣citur Graecis.
• g 1.437

  Hist. Scot. 4. in Fethelmacho.
• h 1.438

  Comment. 6.
• i 1.439

  Iuuenal. Satyr. 15.
• * 1.440

  Eloquent Gaule taught the British Lawiers.
• k 1.441

  De pronuntiat. rect. Lat. ling. cap. 2. v. Viglium ad instit. Iustin. tit. quib. non est permiss. fac. test. Circa DCC. XC. Vniuersity of Paris instituted
• l 1.442

  Balaeus cent. 1.
• a 1.443

  Diodor. Sicul. de gest. fabuios. an∣tiq. lib. 6.
• b 1.444

  Arisiot. Polit. n. cap. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.445

  Imitations.
• c 1.446

  Lips. od Polyb. 4. Dialog. 11.
• * 1.447

  Bardus Gallicè & Britannicè Cantor. Fest. & ride Bodin. meth. hist. cap. 9. qui Robartū Dagobartum & similia voca∣bula hinc (〈◊〉〈◊〉 verò) deducit.
• d 1.448

  Locus Taciti in de morib. Germ.
• e 1.449

  Suidán 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
• f 1.450

  Genes. 10.
• a 1.451

  Sophocles, Car∣minius, Virgil. ap. Macrobium Saturnal. lib. 5. cap. 19. Pausan. in Laconic. 7. & Arcadic. n. Sa∣muel. lib. 1. cap. 17.
• b 1.452

  Iliad. l.
• * 1.453

  Brasse re∣bounds from Brasse. Of remediall power. Ita. n. legendū, non Tantia aut Pontia, vti in∣eptiunt qui Io∣sepho nostro 〈◊〉〈◊〉 suam 〈◊〉〈◊〉 co∣ronam in Codice Typis excuso.
• * 1.454

  Brasse re∣bounds from Brasse. Of remediall power. Ita. n. legendū, non Tantia aut Pontia, vti in∣eptiunt qui Io∣sepho nostro 〈◊〉〈◊〉 suam 〈◊〉〈◊〉 co∣ronam in Codice Typis excuso.
• c 1.455

  Problem a. Sect. l〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• d 1.456

  Camd. in Cor∣nub.
• * 1.457

  See for this more in the X. Song.
• e 1.458

  Lucret. de Rer. Nat. 6.
• * 1.459

  Cornelius Nepos challenged to an English wit.
• * 1.460

  Brasse re∣bounds from Brasse. Of remediall power. Ita. n. legendū, non Tantia aut Pontia, vti in∣eptiunt qui Io∣sepho nostro 〈◊〉〈◊〉 suam 〈◊〉〈◊〉 co∣ronam in Codice Typis excuso.
• a 1.461

  Chronicis adde & Girald. Itin. Camb. 2. cap. 14.
• b 1.462

  Sarisburiens. Epist. 159. 210. 220. & 268.
• c 1.463

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, win∣dy egges, bred without a Cocke.
• d 1.464

  Iustin. bist. lib. 44.
• e 1.465

  Iliad. 〈☐〉〈☐〉.
• * 1.466

  These did flie like the winde, which swift Podarge foaled to their Sire Ze∣phyrus, feeding in a Meadow by the Ocean. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Ptolemaeo. Iotae sublato vera re∣stat lectio. Paull. Merul. cosmog. part. 2. lib. 2. cap. 26.
• f 1.467

  Geograph. a.
• * 1.468

  These did flie like the winde, which swift Podarge foaled to their Sire Ze∣phyrus, feeding in a Meadow by the Ocean. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Ptolemaeo. Iotae sublato vera re∣stat lectio. Paull. Merul. cosmog. part. 2. lib. 2. cap. 26.
• * 1.469

  A Simile ex∣pressing the Boare or Higre.
• * 1.470

  Endymion foúd out the course of the Moone.
• * 1.471

  The excellen∣cie of Lemster wooll.
• * 1.472

  Wye or Gwy, so called (in the British) of her sinuosity, or turning.
• a 1.473

  Maluern Chase.
• b 1.474

  Seuerne.
• * 1.475

  A Fable in O∣uids Metamor.
• * 1.476

  Tripartite diui∣sion of Wales.
• a 1.477

  Girald. Camb. descript. cap. 2.
• * 1.478

  DCCC. LXX. VI.
• * 1.479

  The three crowned Princes. Marquesses, or Lord Mar∣chers of Wales.
• b 1.480

  D. Pouel. ad Caradoc. Lhan∣caruan.
• * 1.481

  Crownes, Dia∣dems, Band.
• c 1.482

  Stephan. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Gorop. Becce∣selan. 2. & Pet. Pithel aduersar. 2. c. 20. de Ban∣dâ, cui & Anda∣tem apud Dio∣nem conferas, & videsisst in altere alterius reliquie.
• d 1.483

  Galfred. Mo∣numeth. lib. I. & 9.
• e 1.484

  27. Hen. 8. cap. 26. v. 28. Ed. 3. cap. 2.
• f 1.485

  Lib. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Scac∣car.
• g 1.486

  Matth. West∣monast lib. 2.
• * 1.487

  The three crowned Princes. Marquesses, or Lord Mar∣chers of Wales.
• * 1.488

  For the limits see to the next Song.
• a 1.489

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 Const. Feud. 2. tit. quis dicatur Dux & iuris∣consulti 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.490

  But see to the IX. Song more particularly. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 lib. de Satyra. Mentò indige∣tatur hoc Epithe∣to longè doctissi∣mus à doctissimo Dan. Heinsto in annot ad Hora∣tium.
• b 1.491

  13. Hen. 3. tit. Gard. 147.
• c 1.492

  Stat. Ruth∣land. 12. Ed. 1.
• d 1.493

  14. Ed. 2. dors. claus. mem. 13.
• e 1.494

  V. 18. Ed. 2. tit. Assise 382. 13. Ed. 3. Iurisdict. 23. 6. Hen. 5. ib. 34. 1. Ed. 3. f. 14. & saepiusin an∣nalibus Iuris nostri.
• f 1.495

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. Malmes∣bur. lib. 4. degest. Pontisicum.
• * 1.496

  But see to the IX. Song more particularly. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 lib. de Satyra. Mentò indige∣tatur hoc Epithe∣to longè doctissi∣mus à doctissimo Dan. Heinsto in annot ad Hora∣tium.
• * 1.497

  But see to the IX. Song more particularly. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 lib. de Satyra. Mentò indige∣tatur hoc Epithe∣to longè doctissi∣mus à doctissimo Dan. Heinsto in annot ad Hora∣tium.
• g 1.498

  Stat. 9. Hen. 6. cap. 5.
• h 1.499

  About time of Edward III.
• i 1.500

  Varr. de re ru∣stic. 2. cap. 2. Co∣lumell. lib. 7. cap. 4.
• k 1.501

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. D. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. V.
• a 1.502

  England.
• b 1.503

  Wales.
• c 1.504

  Scotland.
• a 1.505

  Priests amōg idolatrous Gé∣tiles.
• b 1.506

  Canterbury.
• a 1.507

  Ferrex and Porrex.
• * 1.508

  Belinus and Brennus.
• * 1.509

  A great Gene∣rall of those Northren Na∣tions.
• a 1.510

  Martia.
• * 1.511

  A certain Mō∣ster often issu∣ing from the Sea, deuoured diuerse of the British people.
• * 1.512

  A people thē inhabiting Hamp. Dorset. Wilt. and So∣merset shires.
• a 1.513

  Those of Monmouth, and the adiacent Shires.
• b 1.514

  Those of Yorkeshire, and there by.
• * 1.515

  Nero.
• a 1.516

  Anglesey, the chiefe place of residence of the Druides.
• a 1.517

  By Saint Albans.
• a 1.518

  North-wales men.
• b 1.519

  In the midst of Scotland.
• c 1.520

  Ioseph of Ari∣mathea.
• d 1.521

  Ierusalem.
• * 1.522

  The ancient bounds of Wales.
• * 1.523

  Clun Forrest.
• * 1.524

  Bruge-North. By Chepstow 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• a 1.525

  Caradoc Lhan∣caruanin Co∣nan Tindaeth∣wy. Girald. Iti∣nerar. 2. cap. 11. & Descript. cap. 15.
• * 1.526

  Bruge-North. By Chepstow 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.527

  Claudh Offa See to the X. Song for Dee. A.D.CC. LXXX.
• b 1.528

  Higden. in Po∣lychronic. 1. cap. 43.
• * 1.529

  He compeld Ludwall K. of All Wales, and Constantine K. of Scots to leaue their Crownes. Emendatio histo∣rie Malmesburi∣ensis lib. 2. cap. 6. West-Wales. DCCCC. XX. VI. West-Britons Caratacus Lan∣carbensis in Ed∣wall. Voel Cor∣rectus. Cambalan or Camel. Because they were bred of earth, and the dew of heauen.
• * 1.530

  He compeld Ludwall K. of All Wales, and Constantine K. of Scots to leaue their Crownes. Emendatio histo∣rie Malmesburi∣ensis lib. 2. cap. 6. West-Wales. DCCCC. XX. VI. West-Britons Caratacus Lan∣carbensis in Ed∣wall. Voel Cor∣rectus. Cambalan or Camel. Because they were bred of earth, and the dew of heauen.
• * 1.531

  He compeld Ludwall K. of All Wales, and Constantine K. of Scots to leaue their Crownes. Emendatio histo∣rie Malmesburi∣ensis lib. 2. cap. 6. West-Wales. DCCCC. XX. VI. West-Britons Caratacus Lan∣carbensis in Ed∣wall. Voel Cor∣rectus. Cambalan or Camel. Because they were bred of earth, and the dew of heauen.
• * 1.532

  He compeld Ludwall K. of All Wales, and Constantine K. of Scots to leaue their Crownes. Emendatio histo∣rie Malmesburi∣ensis lib. 2. cap. 6. West-Wales. DCCCC. XX. VI. West-Britons Caratacus Lan∣carbensis in Ed∣wall. Voel Cor∣rectus. Cambalan or Camel. Because they were bred of earth, and the dew of heauen.
• a 1.533

  Callimach. in hymn. Iouis.
• b 1.534

  Orpheus ap. Nat. Com. My∣tholog 6. cap. 21.
• * 1.535

  He compeld Ludwall K. of All Wales, and Constantine K. of Scots to leaue their Crownes. Emendatio histo∣rie Malmesburi∣ensis lib. 2. cap. 6. West-Wales. DCCCC. XX. VI. West-Britons Caratacus Lan∣carbensis in Ed∣wall. Voel Cor∣rectus. Cambalan or Camel. Because they were bred of earth, and the dew of heauen.
• c 1.536

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 terra.
• * 1.537

  See to the IV. Song.
• d 1.538

  Herodot. Mel∣pomene of.
• e 1.539

  Ephor. ap. Strab. 7
• f 1.540

  In 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 forsan reliquiae 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 i. arcus & pun∣ctorum variatio∣ne, Sagittan{us}. 7. Goropium Bec∣ceselan. 8. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Amazonic.
• g 1.541

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. leg. cap. 40.
• a 1.542

  Agathias lib. 1. Maeotidis Pal{us}.
• b 1.543

  Leland. ad Cyg. Cant in Hull.
• * 1.544

  Abus dictum ifthoc 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Ptolemaeo. Oxen-ford. Stane-ford. The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 part of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, where, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a Ri∣uer.
• c 1.545

  Girald. Itine∣rar. cap. 2 & 4.
• d 1.546

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Hard. cap. 25. ex¦ijsdem & 〈◊〉〈◊〉{us}.
• e 1.547

  10 Cai. antiq. Cant. 2. Br. Tuin. lib. 3. apolog. Oxon. § 115. & Seqq.
• * 1.548

  Abus dictum ifthoc 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Ptolemaeo. Oxen-ford. Stane-ford. The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 part of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, where, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a Ri∣uer.
• * 1.549

  Abus dictum ifthoc 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Ptolemaeo. Oxen-ford. Stane-ford. The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 part of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, where, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a Ri∣uer.
• f 1.550

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. Faery Q. lib. 4. Cant. 11. Stanz. 35.
• * 1.551

  Abus dictum ifthoc 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Ptolemaeo. Oxen-ford. Stane-ford. The 〈◊〉〈◊〉 part of 〈◊〉〈◊〉, where, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a Ri∣uer.
• a 1.552

  Liu. dec. lib. 5. Plutarch. in Ca∣millo.
• * 1.553

  Wo to the Conquered. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. verò Stephan. Forcatulum lib. 2 de Gall. philo∣soph. qui 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in∣ter examinandū faedè, ast cum alijs, in historiâ ipsâ lapsus est. Thunderbolt. From the vt∣most West.
• * 1.554

  V. 10. Pris. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. hist. Brit. qui nimium hîc 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• b 1.555

  Halicarnass. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Liu. 5.
• * 1.556

  Wo to the Conquered. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. verò Stephan. Forcatulum lib. 2 de Gall. philo∣soph. qui 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in∣ter examinandū faedè, ast cum alijs, in historiâ ipsâ lapsus est. Thunderbolt. From the vt∣most West.
• d 1.557

  Pausanias in Phocic.
• e 1.558

  Strab. lib. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• f 1.559

  Polyb. l. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. & 〈◊〉〈◊〉. & Lin. dec. 1 lib. 5. dec. 4. lib. 8. Strab. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Pausan. Phocic. 1. Ap∣pian. Illyric. Iu∣stin. lib. 24. & 25. Plutarch. Camillo. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 plerisque Del∣phis 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 peremptis, qui 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in A Egyptum conductes sub sti∣pend ijs 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Philadelphi me∣ruisse ait 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Scholiastes 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in Delum.
• * 1.560

  Wo to the Conquered. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. verò Stephan. Forcatulum lib. 2 de Gall. philo∣soph. qui 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in∣ter examinandū faedè, ast cum alijs, in historiâ ipsâ lapsus est. Thunderbolt. From the vt∣most West.
• g 1.561

  Vet. Inscript. in Cumbria, & apud Ios. Sca∣lig. ad Auson. 1. cap. 9. & V. Rhodigin. lib. 17. cap 28. Plurade Belino, siue Bele∣no. i. Apolline Gallico Pet. Pi∣thaeus Aduers. subsec. lib. 1. cap. 3. qui Belenum 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Phaebi epi∣theton autumat. v. notas Camd. ad Numismata. & Nos ad 〈◊〉〈◊〉. IX.
• * 1.562

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Transmutati∣on of G. into C. was, anciently, often and easie, as Lipsius shews. lib. de pronunci∣at. ling. Latin. cap. 13.
• h 1.563

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. cap. 50.
• i 1.564

  Cael. Rhodig. Antiq. Lect. 1. cap. 6
• k 1.565

  Eustath. ad Di∣onys. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
• * 1.566

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Transmutati∣on of G. into C. was, anciently, often and easie, as Lipsius shews. lib. de pronunci∣at. ling. Latin. cap. 13.
• 1 1.567

  Plutarch. in Mario. & 〈◊〉〈◊〉 lib. 〈◊〉〈◊〉
• m 1.568

  Odyss. l. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉—
• * 1.569

  Looke to the XI. Song. A limit or bound. But it is affir∣med that K. Coils daughter, mo∣ther to Constan∣tine the great, walled this first, and Colchester also. Huntingdon lib. 1. & Simon Dunelmens ap. Stou. in notitia Londini. I shall presently speake of her also. Patron of Cities. v. Homer. hymmad Dian.
• * 1.570

  Geruas. Tilburi∣ensis de Scacca∣rio.
• * 1.571

  Looke to the XI. Song. A limit or bound. But it is affir∣med that K. Coils daughter, mo∣ther to Constan∣tine the great, walled this first, and Colchester also. Huntingdon lib. 1. & Simon Dunelmens ap. Stou. in notitia Londini. I shall presently speake of her also. Patron of Cities. v. Homer. hymmad Dian.
• b 1.572

  Rob. Gloce∣sirens.
• * 1.573

  Looke to the XI. Song. A limit or bound. But it is affir∣med that K. Coils daughter, mo∣ther to Constan∣tine the great, walled this first, and Colchester also. Huntingdon lib. 1. & Simon Dunelmens ap. Stou. in notitia Londini. I shall presently speake of her also. Patron of Cities. v. Homer. hymmad Dian.
• * 1.574

  London deriued.
• c 1.575

  Iirme. cap. 43. comm. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.576

  Looke to the XI. Song. A limit or bound. But it is affir∣med that K. Coils daughter, mo∣ther to Constan∣tine the great, walled this first, and Colchester also. Huntingdon lib. 1. & Simon Dunelmens ap. Stou. in notitia Londini. I shall presently speake of her also. Patron of Cities. v. Homer. hymmad Dian.
• * 1.577

  Stephan. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. lib. b.
• e 1.578

  Bed. lib. 1. cap. 2
• p 1.579

  Sueton. lib 4. cap. 44. & 46. & Dio Casiius.
• g 1.580

  Polybius hist. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• h 1.581

  Solin. polyhist. cap. 35.
• i 1.582

  Girald. descript. cap. 10.
• k 1.583

  Hector. Boit. lib. 3.
• l 1.584

  Antiq. Inscript. Lapidee. & Numm.
• * 1.585

  * V. Fortiscut. de laud. leg. Ang. cap. 17. & Vitū Basing stoch. lib. 4. not. 36. Roman lawes vsed in Britaine.
• m 1.586

  Agellius lib. 16. cap. 13.
• n 1.587

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. annal. 14. Dio lib 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.588

  Pictorum in Bri∣tannia (potius Pictonum it a. n. legitur) primus meminit Roma∣norum Panegy∣ristesille inter 〈◊〉〈◊〉, qui Con∣stantinum en∣comijs adloqui∣tur, & si placet adeas Humfred. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Breu. Brit. & Bucha∣nan. lib. 2. rer. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. aut Cam∣deni Scotos & Pictos. Rob. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dicun∣tur 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.589

  Galfredus Monumethensis Correctus, & ibi∣dem vice 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Maesmarius lege Vestmaria.
• o 1.590

  Satyr. 4.
• p 1.591

  Suidas in Iuue∣nali.
• q 1.592

  These names are very diffe∣rently writen. S. Georges crosse.
• r 1.593

  Ex 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Har∣ding. cap. 4 8. Ast Codices ij, quos consuluesse me Nennij antiquos contigit huiusce rei parùm sunt memores.
• * 1.594

  First Christian King in the world.
• a 1.595

  Abdias hist. Aposlo ic. lib. 9. Euseb. lib. 1. cap. 13.
• b 1.596

  Nicet. Choniat. in Andrenic. Comnen. lib. 2.
• c 1.597

  Nicephor. Cal list. lib. 2. cap. 7. & 8.
• d 1.598

  Distinct. 80 c. in illis. Clemens PP.
• d 1.599

  Distinct. 80 c. in illis. Clemens PP.
• e 1.600

  V. Kenulph in Epist. ad Leonem PP. apud G. Malmesb lib. 1. de reg. & 1. de Pontific. vide Basing stoch. hist. 9. not. 11. Stou. Suruay of Lon∣don. pag. 479.
• f 1.601

  Ioann: 〈◊〉〈◊〉. in Epistol. 272. Helen mother to Constantine. Constantine born in Britain.
• g 1.602

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 lib. 1. cap 4.
• h 1.603

  Lips. de Rom. magnitud. lib. 4. cap. 1 1. nimium Lapsus.
• i 1.604

  Panegyric. di∣xerint licet. Maximiano &c
• * 1.605

  He freed Bri∣taine of bou∣dage, Thou enobledesl it with thy birth. O happy Bri∣taine that first of all 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Constantine. Pa∣negyric. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Constanti∣ne.
• * 1.606

  He freed Bri∣taine of bou∣dage, Thou enobledesl it with thy birth. O happy Bri∣taine that first of all 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Constantine. Pa∣negyric. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Constanti∣ne.
• k 1.607

  Constantin. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. de administ. im∣perio cap. 29.
• * 1.608

  10. 〈1 line〉〈1 line〉.
• * 1.609

  Because he was borne in their parts. Belinus.
• a 1.610

  Histor. Orien∣tales 〈◊〉〈◊〉 & Themata 〈◊〉〈◊〉, cum su∣pra citate libro. Europeans call'd Franks.
• b 1.611

  Nicet. Choniat. 2. Isaac. Angel. § vlt. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• c 1.612

  G. Stephaiudes de 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Ba∣singstoch. hist. 6. not. 10.
• * 1.613

  Rob. Gloce∣strens.
• * 1.614

  Because he was borne in their parts. Belinus.
• * 1.615

  1. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Concil.
• f 1.616

  Roger Houe∣den. fol. 332.
• g 1.617

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. Nubrigens. (cuius editionem nuperam & 10. Picardi annota∣tiones consulas) lib. 3. cap. 3. & Houeden{us} ba∣bent ipsas, quae sunt, Constitutio∣nes.
• h 1.618

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. Con∣cess. praebend. c. 2.
• * 1.619

  6. Decret. tit. iure patronat. § Verum. c. vnit.
• * 1.620

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 emen∣datus cap. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 92
• n 1.621

  D. Ed. Coke lib. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 iure Regis ec∣clefiastic.
• o 1.622

  Regist. Orig. fol. 42.
• * 1.623

  See to the IX. Song.
• * 1.624

  But see to the XIIII. Song, of Couentry.
• * 1.625

  Rob. Glocestrens.
• p 1.626

  They.
• q 1.627

  There.
• r 1.628

  Most part.
• s 1.629

  Againe.
• t 1.630

  Of the Picts.
• u 1.631

  Them take.
• x 1.632

  Leud.
• y 1.633

  Hector. Boet. hist. Scotic. 7. ex antiquioribus, verùm falsireis.
• z 1.634

  Vsuard. Mar∣tyrolog. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Octob.
• z 1.635

  Sunt enim an∣tiqui Codices quibus hoc meri∣tò deest, nec. n. vt glossema illud non irreptâsse, sentire sum potis.
• * 1.636

  Halfe silent.
• a 1.637

  Paul. Merul. Cosmog. part. 2. lib. 3. cap. 15.
• b 1.638

  Herodot. Mel∣pom. 7.
• c 1.639

  Apud Strab. lib a.
• d 1.640

  Amazonic. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 8.
• a 1.641

  Merioneth∣shire.
• * 1.642

  Meeres or Pooles, from whence Riuers spring.
• * 1.643

  The Riuers as in order they fall into the Irish Sea.
• a 1.644

  North-wales.
• * 1.645

  The wondrous Mountaines in Merionethshire.
• * 1.646

  Nymphs of the Mountains.
• * 1.647

  The wonders of Lin-taged, or Pemble-mere
• a 1.648

  The most fa∣mous Moun∣taine of all Wales, in Car∣naryanshire.
• * 1.649

  The wonders vpon the Snow∣don.
• * 1.650

  The glory of Snowdon-hill.
• a 1.651

  The West-Saxons coun∣try, compre∣hending Deuō∣shire, Somerset, Wiltshire, and their adiacents.
• b 1.652

  A hill neere 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.653

  Offa's Ditch
• * 1.654

  A King both valiant and politique.
• a 1.655

  Iles vpon the West of Scot∣land.
• a 1.656

  Iles vpon the West of Scot∣land.
• a 1.657

  Pouel. ad Ca∣radic. Lhan∣caru. & Camd.
• a 1.658

  Girald. Itine∣rar. 2. cap. 6.
• b 1.659

  Ammian. Mar∣cel. hift. 15. Pōp. Mel. lib. 2. Plin. hist. Nat. 2. cap. 103.
• c 1.660

  Ad Strabon. lib. &.
• d 1.661

  Itin. Leicest. 27. Hen. 3. in Archiu. Tarr. Londin.
• e 1.662

  His post alios refragatur B. Pererius ad Ge∣nes. 1. quest. 101.
• a 1.663

  Prouerb. 8.
• b 1.664

  Psalm. 104.
• c 1.665

  Pindar. ap. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. lib. 10.
• d 1.666

  Buchanan. Sco∣tic. Hist. 2.
• e 1.667

  Bract. lib. 3. tract. 2. cap. 15. Leg. G. Conquest. & D Coke in Cas. Caluin.
• f 1.668

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 de 〈◊〉〈◊〉. reg.1.
• g 1.669

  Paul Merul. Cosmog. part. 2. lib. 3. cap. 31.
• h 1.670

  V. Eustath. ad eundem.
• i 1.671

  Hist. Nat. lib. 4 rap. 17 quem su∣per Ligerim Bri∣tanos hos Sitos dixisse, miror P. Merulam tam constanter 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• k 1.672

  Bed. lib. 1. cap. 3. quem secutus P. Merula.
• * 1.673

  Ex Ms. Coe∣nab. Floriac. edit. per P. Pi∣theum.
• * 1.674

  See to the II. Song.
• k 1.675

  Anton. Maior. ap. Basingstoch. lib. 9. not. 32.
• l 1.676

  Ranulph. Hig∣den. lib. 5. cap. 20
• * 1.677

  Cedwalla Rex Britonum Bed. Hist. Eccles 3. cap. 1. caeterum 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Neunium ap. Camd. in Ottadi∣nis pag. 664. & 665. & Bed. lib. 5. cap. 7.
• a 1.678

  Bed. eccles. hist. lib. 5. cap. 7 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in sub∣stance, if you say, He was bap∣tized, and soone died.
• * 1.679

  A. CHR. DC. LXXX VIII.
• * 1.680

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 con∣lecture cannot but attribute ail this to the West∣Saxon Cedwall, and not the British.
• * 1.681

  See to the XI. Song.
• * 1.682

  Ratio 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Minor 〈◊〉〈◊〉 quame Centenario quo∣libet & Denario vnitatem accipi∣unt, reliquos nu∣meros in vtroque vocabulo 〈◊〉〈◊〉 vti Arch. angel. Burgono∣uens in Dog. Ca∣balisticis.
• b 1.683

  Ad Festum. verb. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• c 1.684

  Clemens Alex∣and. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 & Steph. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. tan∣tundem: praeter aliosquampluri∣mos.
• d 1.685

  Lucian 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Varro ap. Macrob. 3. cap. 1.
• e 1.686

  Hero. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. a.
• f 1.687

  Samij apud He∣roduct. 〈◊〉〈◊〉
• g 1.688

  Thucydid. hist 〈◊〉〈◊〉
• h 1.689

  Rot. Claus. de ann. 9. Ed. 1. in Archiu. Turr. Londin.
• * 1.690

  The Foord at the Rockes head.
• i 1.691

  Girald. Itine∣rar. 1. cap. 6.
• k 1.692

  Diquo si pla∣cet, videas com∣pondiose 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Alberic. Gentil. de Arm. Rom. 1. cap. 1.
• l 1.693

  Guil. de 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Burgo lib. 2. cap. 5.
• m 1.694

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Ep. 159.
• n 1.695

  30. Ed. 3. fol. 20.
• a 1.696

  Gutyn Owen in Lhewelin ap Iorwerth.
• * 1.697

  Note that North-wales was the chiefe Principality, and to it South∣wales and Powis paid a tribute, as out of the lawes of Howel Dha is noted by Doctor Powel.
• b 1.698

  Charta Daui∣dis 25. Hen. 3. Seuen, wife to Gryffith then imprisoned, was with o∣thers a pledge for her hus∣bands part.
• * 1.699

  In 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Scaccar. & Po∣lydor. hist. Angl. 15.
• * 1.700

  CIO. CC. LXX. VII.
• a 1.701

  XII. Ed. 1.
• * 1.702

  Mon the mo∣ther of Wales.
• b 1.703

  Girald. Hine∣rar. 2. cap. 7 & 9.
• c 1.704

  Strabe. lib. 5.
• d 1.705

  Commentar. 5.
• e 1.706

  Walsingh. in Ed. 11.
• p 1.707

  Camden. in In∣sulis.
• g 1.708

  Vlpian ff. de Iudicijs l. 9. & verb. fig. l. 99.
• h 1.709

  Topograph. Hi∣bern. dist. 2. cap. 15.
• a 1.710

  Plin. hist. nat. 16. cap. 44.
• b 1.711

  Diodor. Sicul. de Antiquorum 〈◊〉〈◊〉 is sab. 5.
• c 1.712

  Goropius Gal∣lic. 5.
• * 1.713

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. dixerunt Sapi∣entes Capnio de Art Cabalistie. 1. 3. quod Habraeis in vsu vt 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Pythagoraeis, nec Druidum Discipulis refra∣gart sententijs Magistrorū sas erat. De nuptijs Pe∣lei & Thetidos. § His Corp{us} tre∣mulum, &c. vbi vulgatis deest ifla, quae, anti∣quorum Codicū side, est vera ie∣ctio. vti Scalig. Cael. Rhodigin. Antiq. lect. 10. cap. 1.
• d 1.714

  Geograph. 3. cap. 2.
• e 1.715

  Paul. Merula Cosmog. part. 2. lib. 3. cap. 11.
• f 1.716

  Praefat. ad Leg. Aluredi Saxo∣nic. Berosus (ille An∣nianus subditi∣tius) Chaldaic. Antiquitat. 5.
• g 1.717

  In 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 a∣pud Scholiast. A∣pollonij vti Pri∣mùm didici à Iosepho Scalige∣ro in Coniecta∣neis.
• * 1.718

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. dixerunt Sapi∣entes Capnio de Art Cabalistie. 1. 3. quod Habraeis in vsu vt 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Pythagoraeis, nec Druidum Discipulis refra∣gart sententijs Magistrorū sas erat. De nuptijs Pe∣lei & Thetidos. § His Corp{us} tre∣mulum, &c. vbi vulgatis deest ifla, quae, anti∣quorum Codicū side, est vera ie∣ctio. vti Scalig. Cael. Rhodigin. Antiq. lect. 10. cap. 1.
• h 1.719

  Hector Boeth Scot hist. 2.
• * 1.720

  〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. dixerunt Sapi∣entes Capnio de Art Cabalistie. 1. 3. quod Habraeis in vsu vt 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Pythagoraeis, nec Druidum Discipulis refra∣gart sententijs Magistrorū sas erat. De nuptijs Pe∣lei & Thetidos. § His Corp{us} tre∣mulum, &c. vbi vulgatis deest ifla, quae, anti∣quorum Codicū side, est vera ie∣ctio. vti Scalig. Cael. Rhodigin. Antiq. lect. 10. cap. 1.
• a 1.721

  Ad Ichezkel. 4.
• b 1.722

  Plin. Hist. Nat. 16. cap. 44.
• c 1.723

  Strab. Geo∣graph. §
• * 1.724

  Omnia Sanan∣tem. All three words as much as Physitian. Heale Apollo. To All-hea∣ling Apollo: & Salutaris Apol∣lo in Numm. A∣pud Goltzium. in Thes. To God Be∣lin. To God A∣bellio.
• d 1.725

  Macrob. Sa∣turnal. cap. 17.
• * 1.726

  Omnia Sanan∣tem. All three words as much as Physitian. Heale Apollo. To All-hea∣ling Apollo: & Salutaris Apol∣lo in Numm. A∣pud Goltzium. in Thes. To God Be∣lin. To God A∣bellio.
• * 1.727

  Omnia Sanan∣tem. All three words as much as Physitian. Heale Apollo. To All-hea∣ling Apollo: & Salutaris Apol∣lo in Numm. A∣pud Goltzium. in Thes. To God Be∣lin. To God A∣bellio.
• * 1.728

  Omnia Sanan∣tem. All three words as much as Physitian. Heale Apollo. To All-hea∣ling Apollo: & Salutaris Apol∣lo in Numm. A∣pud Goltzium. in Thes. To God Be∣lin. To God A∣bellio.
• * 1.729

  Omnia Sanan∣tem. All three words as much as Physitian. Heale Apollo. To All-hea∣ling Apollo: & Salutaris Apol∣lo in Numm. A∣pud Goltzium. in Thes. To God Be∣lin. To God A∣bellio.
• * 1.730

  Omnia Sanan∣tem. All three words as much as Physitian. Heale Apollo. To All-hea∣ling Apollo: & Salutaris Apol∣lo in Numm. A∣pud Goltzium. in Thes. To God Be∣lin. To God A∣bellio.
• e 1.731

  Ausoniarum. Lect. 1. cap. 9.
• f 1.732

  Camd. ibid.
• g 1.733

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. ap. Suid. in Abar.
• h 1.734

  Malchus. vit. Pythagorae.
• i 1.735

  Virgil AEneid. 6. Petr. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Hist. Post. 6. cap. 10.
• * 1.736

  She directs him to seeke a golden branch in the darke woods, conse∣crate to Proser∣pine. Which grows not of it 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Bred Lime to catch her. To the Mi∣stle, this new yeare. As if you should say of Mistled Fortune. To the Mistle, the Druids vsed to crie. Lord King a health.
• k 1.737

  Bracesch. in Ligno vitae.
• * 1.738

  She directs him to seeke a golden branch in the darke woods, conse∣crate to Proser∣pine. Which grows not of it 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Bred Lime to catch her. To the Mi∣stle, this new yeare. As if you should say of Mistled Fortune. To the Mistle, the Druids vsed to crie. Lord King a health.
• * 1.739

  Sweat of the Oake. Ion apud Athenaeum Dip∣nosoph. 10.
• l 1.740

  Antholog. a. cap. 〈◊〉〈◊〉
• * 1.741

  She directs him to seeke a golden branch in the darke woods, conse∣crate to Proser∣pine. Which grows not of it 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Bred Lime to catch her. To the Mi∣stle, this new yeare. As if you should say of Mistled Fortune. To the Mistle, the Druids vsed to crie. Lord King a health.
• m 1.742

  10. Goropius Gallic. 5. & 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.743

  She directs him to seeke a golden branch in the darke woods, conse∣crate to Proser∣pine. Which grows not of it 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Bred Lime to catch her. To the Mi∣stle, this new yeare. As if you should say of Mistled Fortune. To the Mistle, the Druids vsed to crie. Lord King a health.
• n 1.744

  Plutarch. Pro∣blem. Rom. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Coelius Rhodi∣gin. Antiq. lect. 18. cap. 14.
• * 1.745

  She directs him to seeke a golden branch in the darke woods, conse∣crate to Proser∣pine. Which grows not of it 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Bred Lime to catch her. To the Mi∣stle, this new yeare. As if you should say of Mistled Fortune. To the Mistle, the Druids vsed to crie. Lord King a health.
• p 1.746

  Galfred. Mo∣numeth l. 3. cap. 1.
• * 1.747

  She directs him to seeke a golden branch in the darke woods, conse∣crate to Proser∣pine. Which grows not of it 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Bred Lime to catch her. To the Mi∣stle, this new yeare. As if you should say of Mistled Fortune. To the Mistle, the Druids vsed to crie. Lord King a health.
• q 1.748

  Rob. Gloce∣strens.
• * 1.749

  Drinke the litalth.
• r 1.750

  Vita Edwardi 11.
• s 1.751

  In Architren. lib 2.
• * 1.752

  Subintellige 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 aut quid simile. In Stiche. Propino 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 plenis faucib{us}, Plaut{us} eâdem comoediâ. The Dark Isle Brit.
• * 1.753

  Subintellige 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 aut quid simile. In Stiche. Propino 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 plenis faucib{us}, Plaut{us} eâdem comoediâ. The Dark Isle Brit.
• * 1.754

  Subintellige 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 aut quid simile. In Stiche. Propino 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 plenis faucib{us}, Plaut{us} eâdem comoediâ. The Dark Isle Brit.
• a 1.755

  Camdenus. The Wasshail∣boll.
• * 1.756

  Subintellige 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 aut quid simile. In Stiche. Propino 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 plenis faucib{us}, Plaut{us} eâdem comoediâ. The Dark Isle Brit.
• x 1.757

  Ouid. Faftor. 1. Feft in Strena.
• y 1.758

  Strab. Geo∣graph. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
• * 1.759

  Subintellige 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 aut quid simile. In Stiche. Propino 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 plenis faucib{us}, Plaut{us} eâdem comoediâ. The Dark Isle Brit.
• z 1.760

  Tacit. Annal. 14. & Vit. Agri∣colae.
• a 1.761

  Sueton. lib. 5. cap. 24. & Plin. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Nat. 30. cap. 1.
• b 1.762

  Senec. in Apo∣coloc. & Sueton. vbi supra.
• c 1.763

  De bell. Gothic. b.
• d 1.764

  Hector. Boct. Scotor. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. z. & 6.
• e 1.765

  Lucian. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Alij & ha∣betur apud A∣grippam in 3. de Occulta Phi∣losoph. cap. 31. atque ex Antio∣chi nummis apud I. Reuchlinum in 3. de arte 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• f 1.766

  Tract. de Her∣cynia Sylua.
• g 1.767

  Pris. in de∣script. Wall.
• * 1.768

  I will not iusti∣fie the times of this Arthur, nor the rest, before Cadwallader; so discording are our Chronolo∣gers: nor had I time to exa∣mine, nor think that any man hath sufficient meanes to recti∣fie them.
• * 1.769

  This report is, as the British storie tels, hard∣ly iustifiable, if examined. The Roo.
• * 1.770

  This report is, as the British storie tels, hard∣ly iustifiable, if examined. The Roo.
• * 1.771

  Penmenmaure.
• * 1.772

  Pearle in the Riuer Conway.
• c 1.773

  Little Britaine in France.
• * 1.774

  Part of the Snowdon.
• * 1.775

  The situation of Dyfferen Cluyd.
• d 1.776

  Iles vpon the North-east & West of Scot∣land.
• * 1.777

  In the vj. book of Ouids Meta∣morph.
• * 1.778

  The Tydes out of the North and South Seas, meeting in S. Georges chanel.
• * 1.779

  Riuerets run∣ning into Cluyd out of Denbigh and Flintshire.
• b 1.780

  Part of the Vale call'd Teg-Engle. i. Faire England.
• * 1.781

  A Fountaine ebbing and flowing, con∣trary to the course of the Sea.
• * 1.782

  Of Dee.
• a 1.783

  A place moū∣tainous, and some-what in-accessible.
• * 1.784

  Strange things.
• * 1.785

  The Riuers in the East of Denbigh, falling into Dee.
• b 1.786

  See to the VIII. Song.
• a 1.787

  At the Steth∣ua: see to the fourth Song.
• * 1.788

  The Druides would not cō∣mit their my∣steries to wry∣ting.
• a 1.789

  Ambroses Bu∣ry. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 2. cap. 8.
• b 1.790

  Faery Q. lib. 1. Cant 9. Stanz. 4.
• * 1.791

  Merlins Pro∣phecies.
• * 1.792

  Great Britaine.
• c 1.793

  Wier. de 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Demon. 2. cap. 16. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• d 1.794

  Hum. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. descript.
• e 1.795

  Pouel. ad Gi∣rald. Itinerar. 1. cap. 10.
• f 1.796

  Stradling. ap Camd.
• g 1.797

  Girald. Itine∣rar. 1. cap. 10.
• * 1.798

  5. Ed. 2.
• * 1.799

  Honest men, by simplicity of nature, loo∣king onely to their own, neg∣lecting 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Malmesbur. No other Isle is equall to Eri∣taine.
• h 1.800

  Scylax Cary∣and. in 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Edit. per D. Hoe schelium.
• i 1.801

  Eust ath. ad Di¦onys. Asrum.
• k 1.802

  Geograph. lib. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. cap 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• l 1.803

  Solin polybist. cap. 66.
• * 1.804

  Honest men, by simplicity of nature, loo∣king onely to their own, neg∣lecting 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Malmesbur. No other Isle is equall to Eri∣taine.
• m 1.805

  V. Liu. Decad. 1. lib. 6.
• n 1.806

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. centur. 1.
• c 1.807

  In Zerror Ham∣mor. apud Mūst. ad Exod. 15.
• * 1.808

  Worne away by deuouring time, and the enemies ran∣sacking the Ci∣tie, &c. Of the Druids see fully to the IX. Song. Graecis liter is vtuntur. What language and letters the Druids vsed. Neruij. de bel∣lo Gallic. 5. Wrote it in Greeke, lest the enemy might, by intercepting the letters, dis∣couer his de∣signe. That they wrote their in∣struments of Contract in Greeke.
• d 1.809

  Dec. 1. lib. 6.
• e 1.810

  Caesar. de Bell. Gallic. lib. 6.
• * 1.811

  Worne away by deuouring time, and the enemies ran∣sacking the Ci∣tie, &c. Of the Druids see fully to the IX. Song. Graecis liter is vtuntur. What language and letters the Druids vsed. Neruij. de bel∣lo Gallic. 5. Wrote it in Greeke, lest the enemy might, by intercepting the letters, dis∣couer his de∣signe. That they wrote their in∣struments of Contract in Greeke.
• f 1.812

  Varro de ling. lat. 7.
• g 1.813

  Plin. Hist. Nat. 7. cap. 58: & si placet, vide. as Annianos il∣los, Archilochum, de Temporib{us}, & Xenophontem in AEquiuocis.
• h 1.814

  Camd. in Hi∣bernia. &, Per Graecas literas in arâ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in confinio Rhetis & Germaniae, apud Tacitum, Lipfius Chara∣cteres solummodò intelligit.
• * 1.815

  Worne away by deuouring time, and the enemies ran∣sacking the Ci∣tie, &c. Of the Druids see fully to the IX. Song. Graecis liter is vtuntur. What language and letters the Druids vsed. Neruij. de bel∣lo Gallic. 5. Wrote it in Greeke, lest the enemy might, by intercepting the letters, dis∣couer his de∣signe. That they wrote their in∣struments of Contract in Greeke.
• * 1.816

  Worne away by deuouring time, and the enemies ran∣sacking the Ci∣tie, &c. Of the Druids see fully to the IX. Song. Graecis liter is vtuntur. What language and letters the Druids vsed. Neruij. de bel∣lo Gallic. 5. Wrote it in Greeke, lest the enemy might, by intercepting the letters, dis∣couer his de∣signe. That they wrote their in∣struments of Contract in Greeke.
• i 1.817

  De Bell. Gal∣lic. 1.
• k 1.818

  Geograph. of.
• * 1.819

  Worne away by deuouring time, and the enemies ran∣sacking the Ci∣tie, &c. Of the Druids see fully to the IX. Song. Graecis liter is vtuntur. What language and letters the Druids vsed. Neruij. de bel∣lo Gallic. 5. Wrote it in Greeke, lest the enemy might, by intercepting the letters, dis∣couer his de∣signe. That they wrote their in∣struments of Contract in Greeke.
• a 1.820

  Trog. Pomp. Hist. 43.
• b 1.821

  Franco-Gall. cap. 2. quem v. etiam ad Caesar. Com.
• * 1.822

  Greeke. Elect. 2. cap. 7. Episiolic. quaest. 2. cap. 2.
• * 1.823

  Greeke. Elect. 2. cap. 7. Episiolic. quaest. 2. cap. 2.
• d 1.824

  Hist. lib. 20. in extrema.
• e 1.825

  Caesarem si le∣gas, tibi ipsi satis∣facias, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 & it a Leland. ad Cyg. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. in Baln.
• f 1.826

  Veremund. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Hect. Boet. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 3.
• g 1.827

  Buchanan. hist. 4. in Donaldo.
• * 1.828

  The generall bounds of Cheshire.
• * 1.829

  Meres, or stā∣ding Lakes.
• * 1.830

  A poëticall description of Wyrrall.
• a 1.831

  A wood gro∣wing on a hill or knole.
• b 1.832

  High wood.
• c 1.833

  Lowe coppis.
• * 1.834

  See, concer∣ning their cō∣ming, to the I. IV. and VIII. Songs.
• * 1.835

  Sebba, a Monk in Pauls.
• * 1.836

  In Suffolke.
• * 1.837

  Otta, brother to Hengist.
• a 1.838

  Offa's Ditch.
• b 1.839

  Egberts pre∣decessor.
• c 1.840

  See to the first Song.
• * 1.841

  Camden. in 〈◊〉〈◊〉. & Brigant.
• b 1.842

  Stat. 14. Eliz. cap. 13.
• c 1.843

  C. de Offic. Com. Sac. Palat. v. Eu∣seb. de vit. Con∣stantin. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. & Cod. lib. 12.
• * 1.844

  I Earle Hugh and my Barous haue confirmed all this.
• d 1.845

  In Paratit. C. 1 tit. 34.
• e 1.846

  Liure 1. des Comtes de Cham∣pagne & Brie.
• * 1.847

  De Palatinorum nostrorū nomine Sarisbur. Poli∣crat. 6. cap. 16. & Epist. 263.
• g 1.848

  Archiu. in Tur: Lond iam verò & 〈◊〉〈◊〉 com∣miss. apud Crōpt. Iurisdict. Cur.
• h 1.849

  De acq. rer. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. cap. 16. § 3.
• i 1.850

  6 Hen. 8. Kela∣way & v 〈◊〉〈◊〉. tit. Prerugat. 31.
• k 1.851

  27. Hen. 8. cap. 24.
• * 1.852

  A grosse error of Polydore.
• l 1.853

  V. Stat. 14. Ed. 3.
• * 1.854

  The Empe∣ror sent to Hen. III. three Leo∣pards, as allu∣ding to the armes of Eng∣land. Because the old Souldiers of Iulius his le∣gions resided there. A great legi∣on.
• m 1.855

  19. Hen. 3.
• n 1.856

  Pat. 12. Ed. 4. part. 1. memb. 12.
• o 1.857

  Pat 27. Hen. 6 num. 46.
• p 1.858

  Pont. Heuter. de Vet. Belgio. 2.
• q 1.859

  Nichol. Vpton. dere Militari lib. 3.
• r 1.860

  In Deua ad 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• s 1.861

  De Pontificib. lib. 4.
• * 1.862

  The Empe∣ror sent to Hen. III. three Leo∣pards, as allu∣ding to the armes of Eng∣land. Because the old Souldiers of Iulius his le∣gions resided there. A great legi∣on.
• * 1.863

  Coniectura in Malmesburien∣sem.
• t 1.864

  Humf. Lhuid in Breuiario.
• * 1.865

  The Empe∣ror sent to Hen. III. three Leo∣pards, as allu∣ding to the armes of Eng∣land. Because the old Souldiers of Iulius his le∣gions resided there. A great legi∣on.
• a 1.866

  Leuit. 2. comm. 13. & Num. 18.
• * 1.867

  Salt of the Couenant. He sprinkled it with diuine Salt. A Clenser. Mercury pre∣sident of Gaine.
• b 1.868

  Cael. Rhodigin. Antiq. Lect. 12. cap. 1. V. Plu∣tarch Sympol. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. cap. 10.
• c 1.869

  Iliad. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. V. Lips. Saturnal. 1. cap. 2.
• * 1.870

  Salt of the Couenant. He sprinkled it with diuine Salt. A Clenser. Mercury pre∣sident of Gaine.
• d 1.871

  In Cassandra.
• e 1.872

  Cael. Ant. Lect. 11. cap. 22.
• d 1.873

  Damian. a Go∣es de morib. Ae∣thoipum.
• e 1.874

  De Longobard. 1. cap. 8.
• f 1.875

  Hist. Ecclesi∣ast. lib. 4. cap. 91.
• g 1.876

  Ad Tacit. Germ. not 32
• h 1.877

  Lucian. in Ti∣mone.
• * 1.878

  Salt of the Couenant. He sprinkled it with diuine Salt. A Clenser. Mercury pre∣sident of Gaine.
• i 1.879

  Dion. Hist. Rom. 7.
• a 1.880

  De Emendat. Temp. 1. Eun∣dem de hâc re 〈◊〉〈◊〉. & lib. 7. Doctorem meritò agnosci∣mus.
• b 1.881

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. Cal∣list. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Hist. 7. cap 7. Po∣lyd. Invent. Rer. 6. cap. 5.
• c 1.882

  Comment. Gal∣lic. 6.
• * 1.883

  Whom they see and haue daily vse of, as the Sun, Moone, and the Fire, by name of Vulcan.
• d 1.884

  Bed. lib. de Temporibus.
• e 1.885

  Hist. 7. not. 24.
• * 1.886

  DC. XL.
• f 1.887

  Dist. 4. c. 4. sta∣tuimus & ibid. D. Ambrosius.
• f 1.888

  Ita etiam 〈◊〉〈◊〉, sed & vide 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Chronie. in Sixto. 1.
• g 1.889

  Dist. 4. de Con∣secrat. c. 14. Ieiunium.
• h 1.890

  In Homil. dist. 5. de Consecrat. c. 16.
• i 1.891

  Rebuff 〈◊〉〈◊〉. de decim. quaest. 3 num. 31.
• k 1.892

  Canut. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 16
• l 1.893

  Ex antiq. Char∣ta Eccles. Sele∣sens. ap. Camden.
• * 1.894

  So is it cal'd in Florent. Wi∣gorn. page 331. Kingdom 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Sussex. That he com∣mitted the su∣preme gouern∣ment of that Prouince to him.
• m 1.895

  Ethelwerd. hist. 3. cap. 2. Bed. hist. 2. cap. 5.
• n 1.896

  Malmesb. de gest. Pontific. 3.
• * 1.897

  So is it cal'd in Florent. Wi∣gorn. page 331. Kingdom 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Sussex. That he com∣mitted the su∣preme gouern∣ment of that Prouince to him.
• * 1.898

  Suflex men taught to catch Fish.
• a 1.899

  Matth. West∣monasteriensis.
• * 1.900

  DCCC. LXX.
• * 1.901

  If they pray to their God a∣gainst vs, then plainly they fight against vs.
• b 1.902

  Rob. de Lang∣land siue Ioan∣nes Maluerne Pass. 5.
• * 1.903

  All liued of handy labour. I leaue it to the Reader to guesse, how ma∣ny Bastards the Monks and Friets got for the Laity.
• * 1.904

  All liued of handy labour. I leaue it to the Reader to guesse, how ma∣ny Bastards the Monks and Friets got for the Laity.
• c 1.905

  H. Stephen en l' Entrodact. au traite de la conformite &c. 1. chap. 21.
• d 1.906

  Ian. Denz. Satyr. 5.
• e 1.907

  Inhist. & lib. 4. de Pontifieib. in 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• f 1.908

  Aut lib. Aca∣dem. per Europ. edit. 1590.
• o 1.909

  Robert. de 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in Hist. Petroburgens. sp. Camd. in Stafford, & Northampton. & I 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.910

  It is that now call'd Holy Is∣land, by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 arts of Northumber∣land, whence the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 about DCCCC XCV. was tran∣siated to Dur∣ham. DC. LX. Ita. n. apud Matth. Paris, Huntingdō. Th. Walsingham. docemur, licet alij 100. Acris, alij 〈◊〉〈◊〉 defini∣unt. Caeterùm quod me maxime 〈◊〉〈◊〉, & absque haesi∣tatione in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sententiam pedi∣bus ire cogit, en 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ex 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Chartâ (An DCCCC. LXIII) qua Terroe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 concedit septem Aratro∣ru quod 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dicitur 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Hidas. Nec immemorem bîc te vellem voca∣buli 〈◊〉〈◊〉 apud I. C. tos nostros, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉〈◊〉; quod Areum re∣stibile 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ignorat 〈◊〉〈◊〉 quis∣piam. Excepting those three, Aide in warre, mending of Bridges and Forts. V 〈◊〉〈◊〉 huiusmodi apud D Ed. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉. ad lib. 6.
• * 1.911

  It is that now call'd Holy Is∣land, by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 arts of Northumber∣land, whence the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 about DCCCC XCV. was tran∣siated to Dur∣ham. DC. LX. Ita. n. apud Matth. Paris, Huntingdō. Th. Walsingham. docemur, licet alij 100. Acris, alij 〈◊〉〈◊〉 defini∣unt. Caeterùm quod me maxime 〈◊〉〈◊〉, & absque haesi∣tatione in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sententiam pedi∣bus ire cogit, en 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ex 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Chartâ (An DCCCC. LXIII) qua Terroe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 concedit septem Aratro∣ru quod 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dicitur 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Hidas. Nec immemorem bîc te vellem voca∣buli 〈◊〉〈◊〉 apud I. C. tos nostros, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉〈◊〉; quod Areum re∣stibile 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ignorat 〈◊〉〈◊〉 quis∣piam. Excepting those three, Aide in warre, mending of Bridges and Forts. V 〈◊〉〈◊〉 huiusmodi apud D Ed. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉. ad lib. 6.
• * 1.912

  It is that now call'd Holy Is∣land, by 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 arts of Northumber∣land, whence the 〈◊〉〈◊〉 about DCCCC XCV. was tran∣siated to Dur∣ham. DC. LX. Ita. n. apud Matth. Paris, Huntingdō. Th. Walsingham. docemur, licet alij 100. Acris, alij 〈◊〉〈◊〉 defini∣unt. Caeterùm quod me maxime 〈◊〉〈◊〉, & absque haesi∣tatione in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sententiam pedi∣bus ire cogit, en 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ex 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Chartâ (An DCCCC. LXIII) qua Terroe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 concedit septem Aratro∣ru quod 〈◊〉〈◊〉 dicitur 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Hidas. Nec immemorem bîc te vellem voca∣buli 〈◊〉〈◊〉 apud I. C. tos nostros, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉〈◊〉; quod Areum re∣stibile 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ignorat 〈◊〉〈◊〉 quis∣piam. Excepting those three, Aide in warre, mending of Bridges and Forts. V 〈◊〉〈◊〉 huiusmodi apud D Ed. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉. ad lib. 6.
• * 1.913

  A three knot∣ted necessity. DC. LXXX. They alwaies reseru'd those that so they might the bet∣ter be furnisht against the ene∣miesinuasion. A. Circa DCCC.
• a 1.914

  Math. Paris pag. 838.
• * 1.915

  A three knot∣ted necessity. DC. LXXX. They alwaies reseru'd those that so they might the bet∣ter be furnisht against the ene∣miesinuasion. A. Circa DCCC.
• b 1.916

  Gregor. decret. tit. de Imm. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. c. Perue∣nit. 2.
• c 1.917

  Kniuet 44. Ed. 3. fol. 25. 4.
• d 1.918

  DeAcquir. rer. Dom. 2. cap. 16 § 8. Ingulphus 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• e 1.919

  Malmesb. lib. degest. Pontif. 1.
• * 1.920

  See the Author in the XVI. Song.
• * 1.921

  A three knot∣ted necessity. DC. LXXX. They alwaies reseru'd those that so they might the bet∣ter be furnisht against the ene∣miesinuasion. A. Circa DCCC.
• * 1.922

  See the XVI. Song.
• * 1.923

  I follow here the ordinary Chronologie of our Monks.
• b 1.924

  〈1 line〉〈1 line〉
• * 1.925

  Afterward. You could not so easily∣perswade them to husbandry, as to Martiall conflict; Nor thought they it better then slouthful, to get that by 〈◊〉〈◊〉, which they might haue by bloud. Instituted a Schoole for children. To Schoole∣masters, accor∣ding to the fa∣shion at Can∣terbury.
• * 1.926

  Afterward. You could not so easily∣perswade them to husbandry, as to Martiall conflict; Nor thought they it better then slouthful, to get that by 〈◊〉〈◊〉, which they might haue by bloud. Instituted a Schoole for children. To Schoole∣masters, accor∣ding to the fa∣shion at Can∣terbury.
• * 1.927

  Afterward. You could not so easily∣perswade them to husbandry, as to Martiall conflict; Nor thought they it better then slouthful, to get that by 〈◊〉〈◊〉, which they might haue by bloud. Instituted a Schoole for children. To Schoole∣masters, accor∣ding to the fa∣shion at Can∣terbury.
• * 1.928

  Afterward. You could not so easily∣perswade them to husbandry, as to Martiall conflict; Nor thought they it better then slouthful, to get that by 〈◊〉〈◊〉, which they might haue by bloud. Instituted a Schoole for children. To Schoole∣masters, accor∣ding to the fa∣shion at Can∣terbury.
• * 1.929

  Hired a barne to read in, and so continued, til the number of their Schollars exceeded the content of that, or any Church.
• a 1.930

  Asser. Mene∣uens. de geft. Al∣fred.
• h 1.931

  A great con∣trouersie grew twixt those new Scholars which A'fred brought thither, & those which of anci∣ent time were there before, &c.
• f 1.932

  About Alfreds time before his instautation a Grammarian was not found in his Kingdom to teach him Florent. Wigorn. pag, 309.
• a 1.933

  Ioann. a Bosco Parisiensis in Bibliothec. Flori∣acens. vit. Gild. cap. 6.
• b 1.934

  Bri. Tuin Apo∣log. Oxon. 2 § 84
• * 1.935

  Camd in Wil∣toniâ.
• c 1.936

  Leland ad Crg. Cant. in Grantâ.
• * 1.937

  At Mompelier, Paris, Oxford, Cologne, Bologua we institute general Studies. V ad Cant. XIII.
• * 1.938

  Constitutiones Fratrum. cap de Studijs & Ma∣gist. Student.
• d 1.939

  Aubert. Mirae{us}. in Not it. Episco∣pat edit. Parisys 1610.
• * 1.940

  At Mompelier, Paris, Oxford, Cologne, Bologua we institute general Studies. V ad Cant. XIII.
• e 1.941

  Histor. Crow∣landensis.
• * 1.942

  At Mompelier, Paris, Oxford, Cologne, Bologua we institute general Studies. V ad Cant. XIII.
• f 1.943

  Edgar. leg. Hu∣man cap. 5. Ed∣ward. cap. 11. Canut. cap. 17.
• g 1.944

  Rot Chart. 2. Rich. 2. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 De∣can. & capit. Lincoln. tran∣scripsimus in Ia∣uo Anglorum lib. 2. § 14. & vide∣as apud Fox. hist. eccles. 4.
• h 1.945

  Gods right and the worlds.
• * 1.946

  See to the XIII. Song. He comman∣ded all lawes made by the ancient Kings to be kept, espe∣cially those of Ethelred, to which the Kings sweare vnder name of K. Edwards lawes, not that he made them, but obserued them.
• i 1.947

  Codek Wigor∣niensis apud Cam. in Dobunis.
• k 1.948

  Polychronicon lib. 1. cap. de Pro∣uincijs.
• l 1.949

  Matth. West. fol. 366.
• m 1.950

  Ingulph. hist. Crowland.
• n 1.951

  Thorp. 17. Ed. 3 sol. 56. 6.
• o 1.952

  Bract. lib. 3. tract de Corona cap. 10. Quàm∣plurimi 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in annis Ed. 3. & 5. Iacob. apud Dom. Ed. Cok. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 6. fol. 57. maximè verò bùe faciunt Itinera illa H. 3. & Ed. 1.
• p 1.953

  Polydor hist. 8.
• q 1.954

  Eilred, Rhiual∣lens. ap. Took. in Charismat. Sa∣nat. cap. 6.
• r 1.955

  De gest. Reg. 2. cap. 11.
• r 1.956

  De gest. Reg. 2. cap. 11.
• * 1.957

  See to the XIII. Song. He comman∣ded all lawes made by the ancient Kings to be kept, espe∣cially those of Ethelred, to which the Kings sweare vnder name of K. Edwards lawes, not that he made them, but obserued them.
• d 1.958

  Out of Plini∣limon, in the confines of Cardigan and Montgomery.
• e 1.959

  See to the 1. Song.
• * 1.960

  See to the next Song, of Rollo.
• * 1.961

  Humber.
• h 1.962

  See to the X. Song.
• * 1.963

  Trent signifieth thirtie.
• * 1.964

  DCCCC. XXVI.
• a 1.965

  Hector Boeth. lib. 11 & Ex∣chanan. Hist. 6. reg. 85.
• * 1.966

  Rob. Gloce∣strens.
• * 1.967

  Somesay 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Vide Malmesb. lib. 2. cap. 9. & Huntingdon. hist. 5. By God and his mother, he will be a sio∣uenly fellow. Shee. Feet in woe. Saw.
• b 1.968

  F.x Osberno in Vita Dunsran. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. hift. 4 Anointed Princes.
• * 1.969

  D C C C C. LXXVIII.
• * 1.970

  Somesay 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Vide Malmesb. lib. 2. cap. 9. & Huntingdon. hist. 5. By God and his mother, he will be a sio∣uenly fellow. Shee. Feet in woe. Saw.
• c 1.971

  Malmesb. lib. de Pontific. 2.
• * 1.972

  Somesay 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Vide Malmesb. lib. 2. cap. 9. & Huntingdon. hist. 5. By God and his mother, he will be a sio∣uenly fellow. Shee. Feet in woe. Saw.
• d 1.973

  Rob. Gloce∣strensis.
• * 1.974

  Somesay 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Vide Malmesb. lib. 2. cap. 9. & Huntingdon. hist. 5. By God and his mother, he will be a sio∣uenly fellow. Shee. Feet in woe. Saw.
• * 1.975

  Somesay 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Vide Malmesb. lib. 2. cap. 9. & Huntingdon. hist. 5. By God and his mother, he will be a sio∣uenly fellow. Shee. Feet in woe. Saw.
• * 1.976

  Somesay 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Vide Malmesb. lib. 2. cap. 9. & Huntingdon. hist. 5. By God and his mother, he will be a sio∣uenly fellow. Shee. Feet in woe. Saw.
• c 1.977

  Vit. S. Edwordi apud Ranulph. Cestrens. lib. 6.
• * 1.978

  〈◊〉〈◊〉 II.
• * 1.979

  See to the last Song before. Because in West∣sex all the rest were at last confeunded. These are most commonly written Kings of Westsex, al∣though in Seig∣niorie (as it were) or, as the Ciuilians cal it, Direct Property, all the other Prouinces (ex∣cept some Nor∣therne, & what the Danes vn∣iustly 〈◊〉〈◊〉) were theirs. The elder. Male enim & inepte Veremun∣di sequax Hector ille Boeth, lib. II. qui Edm. & E∣dredum AEthel∣stano scribit prognatos. The Minion of his subiects.
• * 1.980

  See to the last Song before. Because in West∣sex all the rest were at last confeunded. These are most commonly written Kings of Westsex, al∣though in Seig∣niorie (as it were) or, as the Ciuilians cal it, Direct Property, all the other Prouinces (ex∣cept some Nor∣therne, & what the Danes vn∣iustly 〈◊〉〈◊〉) were theirs. The elder. Male enim & inepte Veremun∣di sequax Hector ille Boeth, lib. II. qui Edm. & E∣dredum AEthel∣stano scribit prognatos. The Minion of his subiects.
• * 1.981

  See to the last Song before. Because in West∣sex all the rest were at last confeunded. These are most commonly written Kings of Westsex, al∣though in Seig∣niorie (as it were) or, as the Ciuilians cal it, Direct Property, all the other Prouinces (ex∣cept some Nor∣therne, & what the Danes vn∣iustly 〈◊〉〈◊〉) were theirs. The elder. Male enim & inepte Veremun∣di sequax Hector ille Boeth, lib. II. qui Edm. & E∣dredum AEthel∣stano scribit prognatos. The Minion of his subiects.
• * 1.982

  See to the last Song before. Because in West∣sex all the rest were at last confeunded. These are most commonly written Kings of Westsex, al∣though in Seig∣niorie (as it were) or, as the Ciuilians cal it, Direct Property, all the other Prouinces (ex∣cept some Nor∣therne, & what the Danes vn∣iustly 〈◊〉〈◊〉) were theirs. The elder. Male enim & inepte Veremun∣di sequax Hector ille Boeth, lib. II. qui Edm. & E∣dredum AEthel∣stano scribit prognatos. The Minion of his subiects.
• * 1.983

  Marian. Scot. & Florent. Wi∣gorn.
• * 1.984

  Warwickshire the middle Shire of Eng∣land.
• * 1.985

  The ancient Coat of that 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.986

  Diuers Towns expressing her name: as Henly in Arden, Hāp∣ton in Ardē. &c.
• d 1.987

  Of all Birds, only the Black∣bird whistleth.
• * 1.988

  Of hunting, or Chase.
• * 1.989

  A description of hunting the Hart.
• * 1.990

  The tract of the foote.
• f 1.991

  One of the Measures in winding the horne.
• * 1.992

  The Hart wee∣peth at his dy∣ing: his teares are held to be precious in me∣dicine.
• * 1.993

  A descripti∣on of the af∣ternoone.
• * 1.994

  Hermits haue oft had their aboads by waits that lie throgh Forests.
• * 1.995

  The Authors of two famous Herbals.
• * 1.996

  Ancor.
• f 1.997

  The High∣crosse. supposed to be the midst of England.
• g 1.998

  See to the xvj. Song.
• * 1.999

  Newnham Wells
• h 1.1000

  Otherwise, Cune-tre: that is, the Towne vpon Cune.
• * 1.1001

  The Sheafe.
• p 1.1002

  The Edge-hil
• * 1.1003

  The bands of the Vale of Red-horse.
• * 1.1004

  A Similie of the place and people.
• * 1.1005

  Wondrous fruitful places in the Vale.
• * 1.1006

  Chiefe Earle of England. Diana of the wood. To the Iepa∣rated soules, Q. Casius, &c. Priest of Diana of Arden, or surnamed Ar∣den. As she was on horse-back, hir haire loose hung so long, that it couered all hir body, to bir thighes.
• a 1.1007

  Parl. rot. 23. Hen. 6. ap. Cam.
• b 1.1008

  Hubert. Goltz. Thesaur in Aris.
• * 1.1009

  Chiefe Earle of England. Diana of the wood. To the Iepa∣rated soules, Q. Casius, &c. Priest of Diana of Arden, or surnamed Ar∣den. As she was on horse-back, hir haire loose hung so long, that it couered all hir body, to bir thighes.
• c 1.1010

  Iul. Iacobon. ap. Paull. Merul. Cosmog. part. 2. lib. 3. cap. 11.
• * 1.1011

  Chiefe Earle of England. Diana of the wood. To the Iepa∣rated soules, Q. Casius, &c. Priest of Diana of Arden, or surnamed Ar∣den. As she was on horse-back, hir haire loose hung so long, that it couered all hir body, to bir thighes.
• * 1.1012

  Chiefe Earle of England. Diana of the wood. To the Iepa∣rated soules, Q. Casius, &c. Priest of Diana of Arden, or surnamed Ar∣den. As she was on horse-back, hir haire loose hung so long, that it couered all hir body, to bir thighes.
• d 1.1013

  Ingulphus Hist. fol. 519.
• * 1.1014

  Power of Earles anciently.
• e 1.1015

  Malmesb. de gest. reg. 3.
• * 1.1016

  That no Knight should beamercied a∣boue VII. shil∣lings. Had rule of their Counties. & v. 10 Carno∣tens. Epist. 263. Nicol. Vice∣comiti Essexiae.
• f 1.1017

  Lib. vetust. Monast. de Bello ap. Camd.
• g 1.1018

  Lib. Domes∣day in Scacca∣rio.
• * 1.1019

  Third part of the Counties profits to the Earle.
• * 1.1020

  That no Knight should beamercied a∣boue VII. shil∣lings. Had rule of their Counties. & v. 10 Carno∣tens. Epist. 263. Nicol. Vice∣comiti Essexiae.
• * 1.1021

  See to the XI.
• * 1.1022

  Inquisitiō in the Norman Story, partly toucht to the IV. Canto.
• h 1.1023

  Guil. Gemeti∣cens. de Ducib. Norm. 2. cap. 4. & seqq. Thom. de Walsingham in Hypodig.
• * 1.1024

  Neust. secundum quos, in quantum ad Chronologicā rationem spectat, Nerique alij.
• i 1.1025

  Ita quidā apud P. Emiliū hist. Franc. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 quem de hac re vide, & Polydor. eiusdem sequacem Hist. 5.
• k 1.1026

  Floren. Wigorn. pag. 335. & Ro∣ger. Houeden. part. 1. fol. 241.
• m 1.1027

  Frodoard. Presbyt. Anual. Franc.
• n 1.1028

  Reichersper∣gens.
• * 1.1029

  Oginia dicta P. AEmilio.
• o 1.1030

  Membran. Ve∣tust. Caenob. Flo∣riacens. edit. a P. Pithaeo.
• * 1.1031

  Running by Sturbridge in Worstershire, towards Se∣rerne.
• d 1.1032

  The Lickey, supposed to be the highest ground of this Ile not being a Mountaine.
• * 1.1033

  The Salt Foū∣taine of Worce∣stershire.
• e 1.1034

  Severne.
• * 1.1035

  A Hill inuiro∣ned on euery side with the Vale of Eu∣sham.
• * 1.1036

  Kings Road.
• * 1.1037

  A nice descrip∣tiō of Cotswold.
• * 1.1038

  The fountaine of Thames, rising in the South of Cots∣wold.
• a 1.1039

  Flau. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in eiusd. vitâ.
• * 1.1040

  Permitted Vines to the Gaules, Spani∣ards & Britons, and leaue to make Wines. A soile fruit∣full enough, X. cept of Oliues & Vines, which are for houer limats. One Parke & fixe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Vineyard, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 brings forth some XX sir∣kins of Wine, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the yeare proue well.
• b 1.1041

  In Iul. Agrico∣la.
• * 1.1042

  Permitted Vines to the Gaules, Spani∣ards & Britons, and leaue to make Wines. A soile fruit∣full enough, X. cept of Oliues & Vines, which are for houer limats. One Parke & fixe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Vineyard, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 brings forth some XX sir∣kins of Wine, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the yeare proue well.
• * 1.1043

  Permitted Vines to the Gaules, Spani∣ards & Britons, and leaue to make Wines. A soile fruit∣full enough, X. cept of Oliues & Vines, which are for houer limats. One Parke & fixe 〈◊〉〈◊〉 of Vineyard, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 brings forth some XX sir∣kins of Wine, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the yeare proue well.
• c 1.1044

  Camd. in Tri∣nobantibus.
• d 1.1045

  Malmesb. de Pontisicum gestis 4.
• e 1.1046

  Ap. Columell. de re Rustic. 2. cap. 1.
• * 1.1047

  Copernic. Re. 3 cap. 3.
• f 1.1048

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. ad 2. Tetrabibl. & de Variet at. Rer. 2. qui prophanè 〈◊〉〈◊〉, à Mott∣tus 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉, ijs scili∣cet quos cirea 〈◊〉〈◊〉 DCCC. contrario velut fier: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 sup∣pontt sacrosan∣ciae Religionis mutationē inep∣rè simul et 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉. x. t, & 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.1049

  〈◊〉〈◊〉, 〈◊〉〈◊〉. omine, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 minita∣tus est Iul. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Exercitat. 90 sect. 2.
• g 1.1050

  Tycho Brahein Progym. asm.
• * 1.1051

  Tame, arising in the Vale of Alsbury, at the foot of the Chilterne.
• * 1.1052

  The richnesse of the Vale of Alsbury.
• * 1.1053

  The Chiltern-Country be∣ginning also to want wood.
• * 1.1054

  That Ouze ari∣sing neer Brack¦ley, running in∣to the German Sea.
• * 1.1055

  Watling.
• * 1.1056

  Riuers arising in Cotswold, spoke of in the former Song.
• p 1.1057

  Laurell for Learning.
• q 1.1058

  The Muses.
• r 1.1059

  They al three, Riuers, of grea∣test note in the Lower Germa∣ny, cast them∣selues into the Ocean, in the Coast opposite to the mouth of Thames.
• h 1.1060

  Mariage Song.
• i 1.1061

  White-horse striueth for so∣ueraignty with all the Vales of Britaine.
• * 1.1062

  Cotswold.
• k 1.1063

  Crownes of Flowers.
• * 1.1064

  Flowers of the Medowes and Pastures.
• * 1.1065

  Margarita, is both a Pearle and a Daisy.
• * 1.1066

  Flowers of Gardens.
• * 1.1067

  Strewing hearbs.
• * 1.1068

  A Hill betwixt Norhampton∣shire and War∣wick.
• * 1.1069

  Famous rings of Bells in Ox∣ford-shire, cal∣led the Crosse∣ring. That which was call'd Gal∣liaCisalpina, and is Lombar∣dy, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and the West∣erne part of Italy
• * 1.1070

  A fine Poet.
• * 1.1071

  Famous rings of Bells in Ox∣ford-shire, cal∣led the Crosse∣ring. That which was call'd Gal∣liaCisalpina, and is Lombar∣dy, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and the West∣erne part of Italy
• * 1.1072

  Breaking vp of Deare brought into the 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• 2 1.1073

  V. Aubert. Mir. Orig. E∣quest. 2. cap. 4. & Sansonim. O rig. de Caualieri.
• * 1.1074

  The riuer run∣ning by Vae∣bridge and Col∣brooke.
• * 1.1075

  The little cleer riuer by Saint Albans.
• * 1.1076

  Whethamsted.
• * 1.1077

  Whethamsted.
• * 1.1078

  Look before to the X I. Song.
• * 1.1079

  With the el∣dest sonne of the Conquerour, into the Holy∣land.
• * 1.1080

  Watling, the chiefest of the foure great Waies.
• * 1.1081

  Notfarre from Dunstable.
• * 1.1082

  For a more plaine diuision of the English kingdomes see to the X I. Song.
• * 1.1083

  So call'd, of the East. Sax∣ons. A Riuer vp∣on the Con∣fines of Suff. and Essex.
• * 1.1084

  So call'd, of the East. Sax∣ons. A Riuer vp∣on the Con∣fines of Suff. and Essex.
• * 1.1085

  Sea-depths ncer the shores.
• * 1.1086

  Sea-depths ncer the shores.
• * 1.1087

  The Cymbries Land.
• * 1.1088

  Sea-depths ncer the shores.
• * 1.1089

  A tiuer running by Edenbrough into the Sea.
• * 1.1090

  Peryuale, or Pure-va'e, yeel∣deth the finest meal, of Eng∣land.
• * 1.1091

  Hampsted ex∣cellent for Simples.
• * 1.1092

  Hampsted-hill, famous for Simples.
• * 1.1093

  High woody Banks.
• * 1.1094

  See to the XII. Song.
• * 1.1095

  The goodly situation of London.
• * 1.1096

  The North & South winds.
• * 1.1097

  Tobacco.
• a 1.1098

  Sueton. Lib. 6. cap. 39.
• * 1.1099

  Municipium Tacit. Annal. 14. Such as liued in them were free of Rome, but vsing their owne lawes, ca∣pable only of honorarie ti∣tles in the Ra∣man state, and théce had their name.
• b 1.1100

  Noct. Attic. 16. cap. 13
• * 1.1101

  Municipium Tacit. Annal. 14. Such as liued in them were free of Rome, but vsing their owne lawes, ca∣pable only of honorarie ti∣tles in the Ra∣man state, and théce had their name.
• c 1.1102

  In his Ruines of Time.
• a 1.1103

  Leland. ad Cyg. Cant.
• b 1.1104

  Spens. vbi su∣pra.
• c 1.1105

  In Breu. Brit.
• d 1.1106

  In 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Ex∣cid. Britan.
• * 1.1107

  An vnknown passage ouer Thames.
• e 1.1108

  Spenser.
• g 1.1109

  Florvegus.
• h 1.1110

  22. Hen. 8. cap. 14.
• i 1.1111

  Iacob. Sess. 1. cap. 25.
• k 1.1112

  West. 2. cap. 20 & 21. Ed. 1. District. Scacca∣rij.
• l 1.1113

  C. Quae res pig∣nort oblig. l. 7. Executores & alibi.
• m 1.1114

  Xenoph. Cy∣ropaed. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• n 1.1115

  ff. dê vià pub∣lic.
• o 1.1116

  Bract. lib. 4. tract. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Nou. diss. c. 16. § 8.
• * 1.1117

  Priuiledged places, and he which trespas∣ses there com∣mits purpres∣ture vpon the King.
• p 1.1118

  52. Hen. 3. cap. 16. & V. Artic. Cler. cap. 9. Sta∣tutum Marl∣bridge sibi re∣stitutum.
• q 1.1119

  34. Ed. 1. Auoury 232. 8. Rich. 2 ibid. 194 11. Hen. 4. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 1. 19. Ed. 2. Auoury 221. & 225. alibi.
• r 1.1120

  Original. fol. 97. b. Charta de Fore∣sta ad Ms. emē∣data.
• s 1.1121

  V. Camden Ro∣man.
• m 1.1122

  Lhuid. Breui∣or. Brit.
• n 1.1123

  Polichronic. lib. t. cap. de Plat. reg.
• o 1.1124

  Henric. Hun∣tingd. hist. I.
• p 1.1125

  Roger Houeden part I. fol. 248
• q 1.1126

  Adam Bremēs∣hist. Eccles. cap. 5. and see to the III. Song.
• * 1.1127

  Comming by Fernham, so called of Ferne there growing.
• * 1.1128

  Comming by Fernham, so called of Ferne there growing.
• * 1.1129

  Isis.
• * 1.1130

  Comming by Fernham, so called of Ferne there growing.
• * 1.1131

  A very woody Vale in Surry.
• * 1.1132

  Tames ebbes & flowes beyond Richmond.
• * 1.1133

  London lying like a halfe Moon.
• * 1.1134

  London-bridge the Crowne of Tames.
• * 1.1135

  See the last note to the IV. Song.
• * 1.1136

  See before to the IX. Song.
• * 1.1137

  The Sun in Aries.
• * 1.1138

  Henry III. and Edward III. the one raig∣ned 56. the o∣ther. 50.
• * 1.1139

  The Sun in Aries.
• * 1.1140

  The Sun in Aries.
• * 1.1141

  A Forrest, con∣taining most part of Kent, Sussex, and Sur∣rey.
• a 1.1142

  Strab. Geo∣graph. 5.
• b 1.1143

  Pausan. Eli∣ac. 1.
• * 1.1144

  There Al∣phers springeth again, embrace¦ing faire Are∣thusa.
• c 1.1145

  Herodot. hist. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• d 1.1146

  Idem. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Poli∣hym.
• e 1.1147

  Iustin. hist. 42
• f 1.1148

  Ludouic. No∣nius in Fluu. Hispan.
• a 1.1149

  Scalig. de sub∣tilit. exercitat. 52.
• b 1.1150

  Guil. Picta∣uens. in lust. Ca∣domens.
• * 1.1151

  This is the bequest vnder∣stood by them which say he deuised his kingdome to William II.
• c 1.1152

  Antiq. Sched. in Icen. Camd.
• d 1.1153

  Atqui ad hanc¦rem enucleatius dilucidandam, Iure & 〈◊〉〈◊〉 & Anglicane, visendi sunt Ho∣teman. Illust. quest. 5. Albe∣ric. Gentil. de Iure Belli. 3. cap. 5. &. cas. Calu. in D. Coke lib. 7.
• * 1.1154

  See the II. Song.
• * 1.1155

  Matthei Paris locus sibi restitu∣tus.
• * 1.1156

  Solus omnium natus esset regiè. Malmesb. For he was borne the III. yeere after the Con∣quest. Plaecitator, & Exactortotius 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Flor. Wig. & Monachoru turba.
• f 1.1157

  Hottom. Ilust. quaest. 2.
• * 1.1158

  Solus omnium natus esset regiè. Malmesb. For he was borne the III. yeere after the Con∣quest. Plaecitator, & Exactortotius 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Flor. Wig. & Monachoru turba.
• * 1.1159

  Hen. 2. ap. Rog. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. fol. 314.
• a 1.1160

  Glanuil. lib. 14. cap. 1. caterū, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 placet, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 I 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 li. 2. § 67.
• b 1.1161

  Itin. North. 3. Ed. 3. Coron. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Lectur. ap Br. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Coron. 181 V. Stamfordum lib. 2. cap. 40. qui de his graui∣ter, & 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• c 1.1162

  Math. Par. pag. 507.
• d 1.1163

  Bract. lib. 4 tract. assis. Nou. Diss. cap. 5. & lib. 5. tract. de Esson. cap. 3. V. de Consuetudine in 〈◊〉〈◊〉 21. Ed. 3. fol. 46. b.
• e 1.1164

  Cust. Gene∣raulx. de Artois 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 164.
• * 1.1165

  9. Ioann. Reg.
• f 1.1166

  Io Stou. in No∣tit. Londin pag. 52. V. Camd. in Scot. Buchan. alios.
• g 1.1167

  Polydor. hist. 16.
• h 1.1168

  Norsf. 6. Rich. Fin. Rod. 13. & alibi in eisdem Archiuis V.
• i 1.1169

  Ante alios de bijs consulendus lit Matth. Paris.
• * 1.1170

  Iohn Had∣land. That they would willing∣ly grant his re∣quest, if he would vouch∣safe them those Liberties so long desired.
• * 1.1171

  16. Ioh. Reg.
• * 1.1172

  K. Iohns grand Charter.
• * 1.1173

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. CC. XXV.
• * 1.1174

  Iohn Had∣land. That they would willing∣ly grant his re∣quest, if he would vouch∣safe them those Liberties so long desired.
• * 1.1175

  So that the Charter of both Kings are iust alike. No Tallage or Aide with∣out consent of Parliament shoudl after be exacted. Thom. de Wal∣singham in 26. Ed. 1. Polyd. Inst. 17.
• g 1.1176

  35. Hen 6 fol. 61. & 3. Eliz. Plowd. 1. sol. 236. at qui. V. Bract. lib. 2. cap. 26. § 2.
• * 1.1177

  So that the Charter of both Kings are iust alike. No Tallage or Aide with∣out consent of Parliament shoudl after be exacted. Thom. de Wal∣singham in 26. Ed. 1. Polyd. Inst. 17.
• h 1.1178

  42. Hen. 3.
• i 1.1179

  Guy of Lusig∣nan, William of Valence, and Athelmar, his halfe brothers, Sons of Isabel K. Iohns Dow∣ager, daughter to Aimar Earle of Engolisme, married to Hugh Browne Earle of March in Poiters
• k 1.1180

  Richard Eatle of Cornwall son to K. Iohn.
• l 1.1181

  Athelmarus.
• m 1.1182

  Elianor daughter to Raimund Earle of 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• d 1.1183

  They tooke.
• e 1.1184

  Haue.
• t 1.1185

  Stedfast.
• g 1.1186

  Liue.
• h 1.1187

  Againe.
• i 1.1188

  Good.
• k 1.1189

  Kindled ta∣pers.
• l 1.1190

  Cursed.
• m 1.1191

  Hector Boeth. hist. 1. 10. & 14. Buchanan. Rer. Scotic. 6. & 8.
• * 1.1192

  The fatall Marble. Hutin. As our word Saddle.
• * 1.1193

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. CC. XCVII 24. Ed. 1.
• * 1.1194

  Saligue law.
• * 1.1195

  The fatall Marble. Hutin. As our word Saddle.
• k 1.1196

  Francic. lib. 2.
• * 1.1197

  The fatall Marble. Hutin. As our word Saddle.
• l 1.1198

  Knights.
• m 1.1199

  Which belō∣ged to the pre∣seruation of chiualrous state in the posses∣sors.
• n 1.1200

  Bodin. de Re∣pub. 6. cap. 5. V. Barth. Chassan. Cons. Burgund. Rubris. 3. § 5. num. 70. as it were.
• o 1.1201

  Knights fees, or Lands held.
• p 1.1202

  Paul. Merul. Cosmog. part. 2. lib. 3. cap. 17.
• q 1.1203

  I know that the Salique law intends only Priuate posses∣sions.
• * 1.1204

  No part of the Salique land can descend to the daughter, but all to the masle.
• h 1.1205

  Adl. sf. de Se∣natorib.
• i 1.1206

  Hierome Big∣non. De L' Ex∣cel. des Roies Liure. 3. * this is no law writ∣ten, but learned of Nature.
• k 1.1207

  V. Tacit. Histor. 4.
• l 1.1208

  Rodulph. Boter. Commentar. 8.
• * 1.1209

  Ex Archiu. Parl. 1. Ed. 4. in lucē Edit. 9. Ed. 4. fol. 9.
• m 1.1210

  Ap. Polydor. hist. 16.
• * 1.1211

  Name of Plan∣tagenest.
• * 1.1212

  See to the end of the IV. Song.
• x 1.1213

  33. Hen 8. I. Stou. pag. 717. White & Red Roses, for Yorke and Lancaster. Remaines pag. 161.
• * 1.1214

  Of George D. of Clarence.
• a 1.1215

  Francise. Ma∣tenes. De Ritu Bibend. 1. cap. 1. edit. superiaribus Nundinis.
• b 1.1216

  Which would with themselues Whales, so the Sea were strong liquor.
• c 1.1217

  Comes Claren∣the. Caeterum A Euo Norma∣nico indiscrimi∣natim Comes & Dux vsur∣pantur & Will. Conquestor sae∣pius dictus Co∣mes Norm.
• d 1.1218

  From Glare in Suffolke. V. Polydor hist. 19 & Camd. in Ire∣nis.
• * 1.1219

  13. Hen. 8.
• g 1.1220

  Fràcisc. Swert. in Delic. Orbis Christ.
• * 1.1221

  Defensor Ex∣clesie I. Sleidano Comment. 3.
• * 1.1222

  Henry, K. of England, lends this to Pope Leo X. as a testimo∣nie of his Faith, and loue to him.
• * 1.1223

  Defensor Ex∣clesie I. Sleidano Comment. 3.
• * 1.1224

  In Matth. Paris disputation.
• d 1.1225

  Dunum vti ex Clitophonte apud Plut. habet 〈◊〉〈◊〉. & Dupnen Belgis dicuntur Tumuli Aenarij 〈◊〉〈◊〉 obiects. Gorop. Gallic. 1. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• e 1.1226

  We yet call a Desert, a wilder∣nesse from this roote.
• f 1.1227

  Lib. 4. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 3.
• g 1.1228

  Wood, call'd Andreds wood.
• h 1.1229

  Henric. Hun∣tingdon. hist. 5. in Alfredo.
• i 1.1230

  Plutarch in A∣lex. & R. Curt. lib 9.
• k 1.1231

  Steph. 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉.
• l 1.1232

  Testament. Al∣fred. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Ritheramfeild, Diccalingum, Angmeringum. Felthā, & alie in hoc agro Ville legātur 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉
• m 1.1233

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. lib. 7.
• n 1.1234

  Portus Adurni in 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• o 1.1235

  Guil. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉. 1. cap. 1.
• * 1.1236

  A description of Rumney Marsh.
• * 1.1237

  The naturall expressing of the surface of a Country in Painting.
• * 1.1238

  The naturall expressing of the surface of a Country in Painting.
• * 1.1239

  See to the XVII. Song.
• * 1.1240

  Kentish Cloth.
• * 1.1241

  The Weald of Kent. Maidstons. i. Medway's towne. In the Faiery Qutent.
• * 1.1242

  The Weald of Kent. Maidstons. i. Medway's towne. In the Faiery Qutent.
• * 1.1243

  The Weald of Kent. Maidstons. i. Medway's towne. In the Faiery Qutent.
• * 1.1244

  Peter, the Her∣mit.
• * 1.1245

  S^t Walter Maney.
• * 1.1246

  Little Brit∣tanne in France.
• * 1.1247

  Edward III. and the Black∣Prince.
• * 1.1248

  Bold Beuchamp; a Prouerbe.
• * 1.1249

  The honora∣ble bountie of the Lord Aud∣ley. The Black∣Prince.
• * 1.1250

  The honora∣ble bountie of the Lord Aud∣ley. The Black∣Prince.
• * 1.1251

  The Mar∣quesse of Mountferato. Brother to Galeazo, Vi∣count of Millā.
• * 1.1252

  The Mar∣quesse of Mountferato. Brother to Galeazo, Vi∣count of Millā.
• * 1.1253

  Great Ordi∣nance.
• * 1.1254

  Sir Edw. 〈◊〉〈◊〉.
• * 1.1255

  Sir Francis, and Sir Horace.
• p 1.1256

  Sir Henry.
• q 1.1257

  Sir Edmond.
• r 1.1258

  Sir Oliuer.
• f 1.1259

  Neere Sand∣wich.
• * 1.1260

  Simples fre∣quent in these places.
• * 1.1261

  Lemannis in 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Vtr. Prouinc. The Danes with 250. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. came into the mouth of the Riuer Limen, which runnes out of An∣dredswald: from whence IV. miles into the wood they got in their ships, and built them a Fort at Aple∣dore. DCCC. XCIII At Port Li∣men by An∣dredswald in the East of Kent.
• * 1.1262

  Lemannis in 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Vtr. Prouinc. The Danes with 250. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. came into the mouth of the Riuer Limen, which runnes out of An∣dredswald: from whence IV. miles into the wood they got in their ships, and built them a Fort at Aple∣dore. DCCC. XCIII At Port Li∣men by An∣dredswald in the East of Kent.
• * 1.1263

  Lemannis in 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Vtr. Prouinc. The Danes with 250. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. came into the mouth of the Riuer Limen, which runnes out of An∣dredswald: from whence IV. miles into the wood they got in their ships, and built them a Fort at Aple∣dore. DCCC. XCIII At Port Li∣men by An∣dredswald in the East of Kent.
• a 1.1264

  Ethelwerd. lib. 4. cap. 4.
• * 1.1265

  They leaue their Ships in Port-Limen, making their Rendez vous at Appledoure in the East of Kent (for this may better endure that name) and there destroyed one 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and built another. Britaine pull'd frō the world. Britains diui∣ded from the whole world.
• b 1.1266

  〈◊〉〈◊〉. Polyd. de Inuent. rer. 2 cap 2. & Salmuth. ad G. Panciroll. 2. tit. 18.
• c 1.1267

  Achilles Gas∣sar. ap. Munst. Cosmog. 3.
• d 1.1268

  Sam. Beulan. ad. Nennium.
• e 1.1269

  Plin. Hist. Nat. 2. cap. 88.
• f 1.1270

  From brea∣king off. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. hist. 4. & Strab. a.
• g 1.1271

  To cut off.
• h 1.1272

  Varr. de Re Rustic. 1. cap. 49.
• * 1.1273

  They leaue their Ships in Port-Limen, making their Rendez vous at Appledoure in the East of Kent (for this may better endure that name) and there destroyed one 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and built another. Britaine pull'd frō the world. Britains diui∣ded from the whole world.
• * 1.1274

  They leaue their Ships in Port-Limen, making their Rendez vous at Appledoure in the East of Kent (for this may better endure that name) and there destroyed one 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and built another. Britaine pull'd frō the world. Britains diui∣ded from the whole world.
• i 1.1275

  Ioseph. Acoft. De natur. Noui Orbis 1. cap. 20. & 21.
• k 1.1276

  Th Spotus ap. Lamb. in Ex∣plic. Verb.
• l 1.1277

  Stat. 31. Hen. 8. cap. 3.
• m 1.1278

  If a Villain worke on Sun∣day by his Lords com∣mand, he shall be free.
• n 1.1279

  Colgrin my Baylife and his issue, with all goods and chattels, &c.
• o 1.1280

  Itin. Cornub. 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Ed. 1. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 46. & Mich. 5. Ed. 2. Ms. in Biblio∣thec. Int. Templ cas. Iohn de Garton.
• s 1.1281

  Ioann. Saris∣bur. De Nugis Curial. 6. cap. 18.
• * 1.1282

  What perfor∣mance K Cnut did among the Danes, and Norwegans by English valour, is apparant in that vntill this day, the Kentish men for their singular vertue then showne, haue preroga∣tiue alwayes to be in the Vant gard; as 〈◊〉〈◊〉, Deuon∣shire, and Corn∣wall in the Rere.
• t 1.1283

  Hect. Boeth. Hist. Scotic. 12. & 10. Twin. Al∣bionic. 1.