Upon the Frontispiece.  
THrough a Triumphant Arch, see Albion placed,  
In Happy site, in Neptune's arms embraced,  
In Power and Plenty, on her Cleevy Throne  
Circled with Nature's Ghirlands, being alone  
Styled th'ocean's 
* Insula Caruli.  Island. On the Columns been  
(As Trophies razed) what Princes Time hath seen  
Ambitious of her. In her younger years,  
Vast earthbred Giants wooed her: but, who bears  
In 
a So Havillan & Vpton anciently delivered. I justify it not; yet, as well as others can his other attributed Arms, I might.  Golden field the Lion passant red,  
Aeneas Nephew (Brute) them conquered.  
Next, Laure at Caesar, as a Philtre, brings,  
On's shield, his Grandam 
b Object not, that it should be the Eagle, because it is now bo●ne by the Emperors; and that some Heralds ignorantly publish it, as I. Caesar's Coat, Double headed. They move me not; for plainly the Eagle was single at that time (unless you call it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as Pindar doth Jove's Eagle) and but newly used among the Romans (first by Marius) as their Standard, not otherwise, until afterward Constantine made it respect the two Empires: and since, it hath been borne on a Shield. I took Venus proper to him, for that the stamp of her face (she being his Ancestor Aeneas his mother) in his Coins is frequent; and can so maintain it here fitter, than many of those invented Coats (without colour of reason) attributed to the old Heroes. As for matter of Armoury, Venus being a Goddess may be as good Bearing, if not better than Atalanta, which, by express Authority of Euripides, was borne, in the Theban w●●re by Parthinopoe●.  Venus: Him her Kings  
Withstood. At length, the Roman, by long suit,  
Gained her (most Part) from th'ancient race of Brute.  
Divorced from Him, the Saxon 
c Hengist hath other Arms in some traditions, which are to be respected as Old wives' fictions. Hi● name expresses a Horse, and the Dukes of Saxony are said to have borne it anciently, before their Christianity, Sable: therefore, if you give him any, with most reason, let him have this.  sable Horse,  
Borne by stern Hengist, wins her: but, through force  
Guarding the 
d The common Blazon of the Norman Arms justifies it. And, if you please, see for it to the XI. Canto.  Norman Leopards bathed in Gules,  
She changed her Love to Him, whose Line yet rules.   

POLY-OLBION  
By Michael Drayton Esq.  
London printed for 

M Lownes. I Browne.  
I helm. I Busbie.   Engrave by W Hole   

TO THE HIGH AND MIGHTY, HENRY, Prince of Wales.  
THis first part of my intended Poem I consecreate to your Highness: in whom (beside my particular zeal) there is a natural interest in my Work; as the hopeful Heir of the kingdoms of this Great Britain: whose Delicacies, chorographical Description, and History, be my subject. My Soul, which hath seen the extremity of Time and Fortune, cannot yet despair. The influence of so glorious and fortunate a Star, may also reflect upon me: which hath power to give me new life, or leave me to die more willingly and contented. My Poem is genuine, and first in this kind. It cannot want envy: for, even in the Birth, it already finds that. Your Gracious acceptance, mighty Prince, will lessen it. May I breathe to arrive at the Orcadeses (whither in this kind I intent my course, if the Muse fail me not) I shall leave your whole British Empire, as this first and southern part, delineated:  
To your HIGHNESS, the most humbly devoted, MICHAEL DRAYTON.   

BRitaine, behold here portrayed, to thy sight,  
Henry, thy best hope, and the world's delight;  
Ordained to make thy eight Great Henries, nine:  
Who, by that virtue in the treble Trine,  
To his own goodness (in his Being) brings  
These several Glories of th'eight English Kings;  

The several happine●●e● of the eight Henries.  Deep ¹ Knowledge, ² greatness, ³ long Life, ⁴ Policy,  
⁵ Courage, ⁶ zeal, ⁷ Fortune, ⁸ awful Majesty.  
He like great Neptune on 
* The West, North, and East Ocean.  three Seas shall rove,  
And rule three Realms, with triple power, like jove;  
Thus in soft Peace, thus in tempestuous Wars,  
Till from his foot, his Fame shall strike the stars.   

  

TO THE GENERAL READER  
IN publishing this Essay of my Poem, there is this great disadvantage against me; that it cometh out at this time, when Verses are wholly deduced to Chambers, and nothing esteemed in this lunatic Age, but what is kept in Cabinets, and must only pass by Transcription; In such a season, when the Idle Humorous world must hear of nothing, that either savours of Antiquity, or may awake it to seek after more, then dull and slothful ignorance may easily reach unto: These, I say, make much against me; and especially in a Poem, from any example, either of Ancient, or Modern, that have proved in this kind: whose unusual tract may perhaps seem difficult, to the female Sex; yea, and I fear, to some that think themselves not meanly learned, being not rightly inspired by the Muses: such I mean, as had rather read the fantasies of foreign inventions, then to see the Rarities & History of their own Country delivered by a true native Muse. Then, whosoever thou be, possessed with such stupidity & dullness, that, rather than thou wilt take pains to search into ancient and noble things, choosest to remain in the thick fogs and mists of ignorance, as near the common Lay-stall of a City; refusing to walk forth into the Tempe and Fields of the Muses, where through most delightful Groves the Angellique harmony of Birds shall steal thee to the top of an easy hill, where in artificial caves, cut out of the most natural Rock, thou shalt see the ancient people of this I'll delivered thee in their lively images: from whose height thou may'st behold both the old and later times, as in thy prospect, lying far under thee; then conveying thee down by a soule-pleasing Descent through delicate embroidered Meadows, often veined with gentle gliding Brooks; in which thou mayst fully view the dainty Nymphs in their simple naked beauties, bathing them in Crystalline streams; which shall lead thee, to most pleasant Downs, where harmless Shepherds are, some exercising their pipes, some singing roundelays, to their gazing flocks: If as, I say, thou hadst rather, (because it asks thy labour) remain, where thou wert, then strain thyself to walk forth with the Muses; the fault proceeds from thy idleness, not from any want in my industry. And to any that shall demand wherefore having promised this Poem of the general Island so many years, I now publish only this part of it; I plainly answer, that many times I had determined with myself, to have left it off, and have neglected my papers sometimes two years together, finding the times since his majesties happy coming in, to fall so heavily upon my distressed fortunes, after my zealous soul had laboured so long in that, which with the general happiness of the kingdom, seemed not then impossible somewhat also to have advanced me. But I instantly saw all my long nourished hopes even buried alive before my face: so uncertain (in this world) be the ends of our clearest endeavours. And what ever is herein that tastes of a free spirit, I thankfully confess it to proceed from the continual bounty of my truly Noble friend Sir Walter Aston; which hath given me the best of those hours, whose leisure hath effected this which I now publish. Sundry other Songs I have also, though yet not so perfect that I dare commit them to public censure; and the rest I determine to go forward with, God enabling me, may I find means to assist my endeavour. Now Reader, for the further understanding of my Poem, thou hast three especial helps; First the Argument to direct thee still, where thou art, and through what Shires the Muse makes her journey, and what she chiefly handles in the Song thereto belonging. Next, the Map, lively delinearing to thee, every Mountain, Forest, River, and Valley; expressing in their sundry postures; their loves, delights, and natural situations. Then hast thou the Illustration of this learned Gentleman, my friend, to explain every hard matter of history, that, lying far from the way of common reading, may (without question) seem difficult unto thee. Thus wishing thee thy hearts desire, and committing my Poem to thy charitable censure, I take my leave.  
Thine, as thou art mine, MICHAEL DRAYTON.   

TO MY FRIENDS, THE CAMBRO-BRITANS.  
TO have you without difficulty understand, how in this my intended progress, through these united kingdoms of great Britain, I have placed your (and I must confess) my loved Wales, you shall perceive, that after the three first Songs, beginning with our French islands, jernsey, and jersey, with the rest; and perfecting in those first three the survey of these six our most Western Countries, Cornwall, Devon, Dorset, Hamp, Wilt, and Summerset; I then make over Severne into Wales, not far from the midst of her Broad side that lieth against England. I term it her Broad side, because it lieth from Shrewsbury, still along with Severne, till she lastly turn sea. And to explain two li●es of mine (which you shall find in the fourth Song of my Poem; but it is the first of Wales) which are these, 
And ere seven Books have end, I'll strike so high a string,  
Thy Bards shall stand amazed with wonder whilst I sing.  Speaking of seven Books; you shall understand that I continue Wales through so many; beginning in the fourth Song (where the nymphs of England and Wales, contend for the I'll of Lundy) and ending in the tenth; Striving, as my much loved (the learned) Humphrey Floyd, in his description of Cambria to Abraham Ortelius, to uphold her ancient bounds, Severne, and Dee, and therefore have included the parts of those three English Shiers of Gloster, Worster, and Sallop, that lie on the west of Severne, within their ancient mother Wales: In which if I have not done her right, the want is in my ability, not in my love. And beside my natural inclination to love Antiquity (which Wales may highly boast of) I confess, the free and gentle company of that true lover of his Country (as of all ancient and noble things) M. john William●, his majesties Goldsmith, my dear and worthy friend, hath made me the more seek into the antiquities of your Country. Thus wishing your favourable construction of these my faithful endeavours, I bid you farewell.  
Michael Drayton.   

From the Author OF The Illustrations.  
PErmit me thus much of these Notes to My Friend. What the Verse oft, with allusion, as supposing a full knowing Reader, le's slip; or in winding steps of Personating Fictions (as some times) so enfolds, that sudden conceit cannot abstract a Form of the clothed Truth, I have, as I might, Illustrated. Brevity, and Plainness (as the one endured the Other) I have joined; purposely avoiding frequent commixture of different language; and, whensoever it happens, either the Page or Margin (specially for gentlewomen's sake) summarily interprets it, except where Interpretation aids not. Being not very Prodigal of my Historical Faith, after Explanation, I oft adventure on Examination, and Censure. The Author, in Passages of first Inhabitants, Name, State, and Monarchique succession in this Isle, follows Geffrey ap Arthur, Polychronicon, Matthew of Westminster, and such more. Of their Traditions, for that one so much controverted, and by Cambro-Britons still maintained, touching the Trojan Brute, I have (but as an Advocate for the Muse) argued; disclaiming in it, if alleged for my own Opinion. In most of the rest, upon weighing the Reporters credit, Comparison with more persuading authority, and Synchronisme (the best Touchstone in this kind of Trial) I leave note of Suspicion, or add conjectural Amendment: as, for particular examples, among other, in Brennus mistook by all Writers of later time, following justin's Epitome of Trogus ill conceived; in Robert of swapham's Story of K. Wulphers murdering his Children; in Rollo first D. of Normandy his time; none of them yet rectified (although the first hath been adventured on) by any that I have seen; and such more. And indeed my jealousy hath oft vexed me with particular inquisition of whatsoever occurs, bearing not a mark of most apparent Truth, ever since I found so intolerable Antichronismes, incredible reports, and Bardish impostures▪ as well from Ignorance as assumed liberty of Invention in some of our Ancients; and red also such palpable Fauxeties, of our Nation, thrust into the World by Later Time: as (to give a taste) that of Randall Higden affirming the Beginning of Wards in VI Hen. III. Polydores assertion (upon mistaking of the Statute of I. Hen. VII.) that it was death by the English laws for any man to wear a Wizard, with many like errors in his History, of our, Trials by XII. shrives, Coat of the Kingdom, Parliaments, and other like; Bartols delivering the custom in this Isle to be, 
* Ad C. de sum. Trinit. l. 1. num. 42.  quod Primogenitus succedit in omnibus Bonis; The Greek Chalcondylas his slanderous description of our usual form of kind entertainment to begin with the Wives Courteous admission to that most affected pleasure of Lascivious fancy (he was deceived by misunderstanding the Reports of Our Kissing Salutations, 
* unum blan●●entis, ad pulsū●nguae longè mellitum. Apuletus De Aur. Asin 6. and you may remember (as like enough he did) that in Plautus Curcul. Qui vult Cubare p●ngit saltèm ●uau●am, & such more in other wanton Po●ts, with the opinion of Baldus, that a K●●le in those Southern Nations, is sufficient consent to imperfect espculess, nothing of that kind, but Copulation, with v● & our neighbouring Dutch bring so.  given and accepted amongst us with more freedom then in any part of the Southern world, er●onetously thinking, perhaps, that every Kiss must be thought seconded with that addition to the Seven promised by Mercury in name of Venus to him that should find Psyche; or as wanton, as Aristophanes his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉:) and many vntruth's of like Nature in Others. Concerning the Arcadian deduction of our British Monarchy; within that time, from Brute, supposed about M. M.DCCC.L. of the world (Samuel then judge of Israel) unto some ●●v. before Christ (about when, julius Caesar visited the Island) no Relation was extant, which is now left to our use. How then are they, which pretend Chronologies of that Age without any Fragment of Authors before Gildas, Taliessin and Nennius (the eldest of which was since D. of Christ) to be credited? For my part, I believe much in them as I do the finding of Hiero's Shipmast in our 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, quae nempè ver●or videtur ●●ctio.  Mountains, which is collected upon a corrupted place in Athenaeus, cited out of Moschion; or, that Ptolemy Philadelph sent to Reutha King of Scots some M. DCCCC. years since, for discovery of this Country, which Claudè Ptolemy afterward put in his Geography; or that julius Caesar built Arthur's Hossen in Stirling Shiri●dome; or, that Britons were at the Rape of Hesione with Hercules, as our excellent wit joseph of Excester (published falsely under name of Cornelius Nepos) singeth: which are even equally warrantable, as Ariosto's Narrations of Persons and Places in his Rowlands, Spensers' Elfin Story, or Rabelais his strange discoveries. Yet the Capricious faction will (I know) never quit their Belief of wrong; although some Elias or Delian Diver should make open what is so inquired after. Briefly, until Polybius, who wrote near M.DCCC. since (for Aristotle 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is clearly counterfeited in title) no Greek mentions the Isle; until Lucretius (some C. years later) no Roman hath expressed a thought of us; until Caesar's Commentaries, no piece of its description was known, that is now left to posterity. For time therefore preceding Caesar, I dare trust none; but with Others adhere to Conjecture. In Ancient matter since, I rely on Tacitus and Dio especially, Vopiscus, Capitolin, Spartian (for so much as they have, and the rest of the Augustan Story) afterward Gildas, Nennius (but little is left of them, and that of the last very imperfect) Bede, Asserio, Ethelwerd (near of blood to King Alfred) William of Malmesbury, Marian, Florence of Worcester (that published under name of Florence hath the very syllables of most part of Marian the Scots Story, fraught with English Antiquities; which will show you how easily to answer Buchanan's objection against our Historians about Athelstan's being King of all Albion, being deceived when he imagined that there was no other of ●arian but the common printed Chronicle, which is indeed but an Epitome or Destoration made by Robert of Lorraine, Bishop of Hereford under Hen. I.) and the numerous rest of our Monkish and succeeding Chronographers. In all, I believe him most which freest from Affection and Hate (causes of corruption) might best know, and hath, with most likely assertion, delivered his report. Yet so, that, to explain the Author, carrying himself in this part, an Historical, as in the other, a Chorograph●ca●l Poet, I insert oft, out of the British story, what I importune you not to credit. Of that kind, are those Prophecies out of Merlin sometime interwoven: I discharge myself; nor impute you to me any serious respect of them. Inviting, not wresting in, occasion, I add sometime what is different from my task, but such as I guess would any where please an understanding Reader. To aid you in course of Times, I have in fit place drawn Chronologies, upon Credit of the Ancients; and, for matter of that kind, have admonished (to the IV. Canto) what as yet I never saw by any observed, for wary consideration of the Dionysian Cycle, and misinterpreted Root of his Dominical year. Those old Rhymes, which (some number) you often meet with, are offered the willinger, both for Variety of your Mother Tongue, as also, because the Author of them Robert of Gloster never yet appeared in common light. He was, in Time, an Age before; but, in Learning and Wit, as most others, much behind our Worthy Chaucer: whose name by the way Occurring, and my work here being but to add plain song after Muses descanting, I cannot but digress to admonition of abuse which this Learned allusion, in his Troilus, by ignorance hath endured.  
I am till God me better mind send 
Chaucer explained.   
At Dulcarnon right at my wit's end.  
It's not Necham, or any else, that can make me entertain the least thought of the signification of Dulcarnon to be Pythagoras his sacrifice after his Geometrical Theorem in finding the Squares of an Orthogonall Triangles sides, 
Epocha Sele●cidarum.  or that it is a word of Latin deduction; but indeed by easier pronunciation it was made of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 i. Two horned: which the Mahometan Arabians victora Root in Calculation, meaning Alexander, as that great Dictator of knowledge joseph Scaliger (with some Ancients) wills, but, by warranted opinion of my learned friend Mr. Lydyat in his Emendatio Temporum, it began in Seleucus Nicanor, XII. years after Alexander's death; The name was applied, either because after time that Alexander had persuaded himself to be jupiter Hamon's son, whose Statue was with Ram's horns, both his own and his Successors Coins were stamped with horned Images: or else in respect of his II. pillars erected in the East as a 
* Christman. Comment in Alsragan cap. 11.  Nihil ultra of his Conquest, and some say because he had in Power the Eastern and Western World, 
Lys●machi Cornuum apud Cael Rhodigie. Antiq. lect. 20 cap. 12. hîc gonuin● interpretatio.  signified in the two Horns. But, howsoever, it well fits the Passage, either, as if he had personated Creseide at the entrance of two ways, not knowing which to take; in like sense as that of Prodicus his Hercules, Pythagoras his Y, or the Logicians Dilemma express; or else, which is the truth of his conceit, that she was at a Nonplus, as the interpretation in his next Staff makes plain. How many of Noble Chaucer's Readers never so much as suspect this his short essay of knowledge, transcending the common Rode? and by his Treatise of the Astrolabe (which, I dare swear, was chiefly learned out of Messahalah) it is plain he was much acquainted with the Mathematics, and amongst their Authors had it. But, I return to myself. From vain loading my Margin, with Books, Chapters, Folio's, or Names of our Historians, I abstain: Course of Time as readily directs to them. But, where the place might not so easily occur (chiefly in matter of philology) there only (for view of them which shall examine me) I have added assisting references. For most of what I use of chorography, join with me in thanks to that most Learned Nourice of Antiquity 
— 
* Of whom even every ingenius stranger makes honourable mention. Comitem verò illum Palatinun R. Vitum Basingslochium (Cuius Historiae magnam partem quasi 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Chorographica substructio pla●●que ad Antiquitat● amus●im ab Eruditissimo hoc suo populari acceptu, ne ditam suppilata, est) adeà inhuma●ū fuisse suesse miror, ut bené m●rentem non tam libentèr agnoscat, q●àm Clariss. Viri syllabis et inventis Codicem suum sapiùs perquam ingratè suffarcinet. Atque id ferègenus Plagiarios, rudes omninò, et 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, et Vernaculos nimirùm Nostratet iam nunc imponere sarcinam video indignantèr & ringor.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,—  my instructing friend Mr. Camden Clarenceulx. From him and Girald of Cambria also comes most of my British; And then may Mercury and all the Muses deadly hate me, when, in permitting occasion, I profess not by whom I learn! Let them vent judgement on me which understand; I justify all, by the self Authors cited, crediting no Transcribers, but when of Necessity I must. My thirst compelled me always seek the Fountains, and, by that, if means grant it, judge the rivers nature. Nor can any Conversant in Letters be ignorant what error is oftimes fallen into, by trusting Authorities at second hand, and rash collecting (as it were) from visual beams refracted through another's eye. In performance of this charge (undertaken at request of my kind friend the Author) Brevity of Time (which was but little more than since the Poem first went to the Press) and that daily discontinued, both by my other most different Studies seriously attended, and interrupting Business, as enough can witness, might excuse great faults, especially of Omission. But, I take not thence advantage to desire more than Common Courtesy in Censure: Nor of this, nor of what else I heretofore have published, touching 
* janus Anglorum.  Historical deduction of Our Ancient Laws, wherein I scape not without Tax 
Sunt quibus in verbis videórque obscurior, hec est,  
Euandri cum Matre ●●qui, Faunisque Numaque  
Nec s●eùt 〈◊〉 si ●uctor Sa●●aris Carminis essem.  I have read in Cicero, Agellius, Luctans Lexiphanes, and others, much against that form; But withal, this later age (wherein so industrious search is among admired Ruins of old Monuments) hath, in our greatest Latin Critics Hans Do●●, P. Merula, Lipsius and such more, so received that Saturnian Language, that, to Students in Philology, it is now grown familiar; and (as he saith) Verba à Vetustate repetita non solum magnos Assertores habent, 
Quintilian.  sed etiam afferunt Orationi Maiestatem aliquam, non sine delectatione. Yet for antic Terms, to the Learned, I will not justify it without exception (disliking not that of Phavorin, Vu●e Moribus praeteritis, loquere verbis praesentibus; and, as Coin, so words, of a public and known stamp, are to be used) although so much, as that way I offend, is warranted by example of such, of whom to endeavour imitation allows me more than the bare title of Blamelet. The purblind Ignorant I salute, with the English of that Monitory Epigram 
— 
* If thou hast no taste in Learning meddle no more with what thou understandest not.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Reprehension of them, whose Language and best learning is purchased from such Volumes as Rablias reckon in S. Victor's Library, or Barbarous Glosses 
quam nihil ad Genium, Papiniane, tuum!  or, which are furnished in our old story, only out of the Common Polychronicon, Caxton, Fabian, Stow, Grafton, Lanquet, Cooper, Holingshed (perhaps with gift of understanding) Polydore, and the rest of our later Compilers; or, of any adventurous Thersites daring find fault even with the very Graces, in a strain 
Còrnua quod vincátque Tuba●—  I regard as metamorphized Lucius his looking out at window; I 'Slight, Scorn, and Laugh at it. By Paragraph's in the Verses you know what I meddle wit● in the Illustrations; but so, that with Latitude, the direction admonishes sometimes as well for explaining a Following or Preceding passage, as its own▪ Ingenuous Readers, to you I wish your best desires; Grant me too, I pray, this one, that you read me not, without comparing the Faults escaped; I have collected them for you. Compelled Absence, endeavoured Dispatch, and want of Revises soon bred them. To the Author, I wish (as an old Cosmographical Poet did long since to himself.) 
— 
* That the Godlike sort of men, may worthily guerdon his labours.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  To Gentlewomen & their Loves is consecrated all the wooing Language, Allusions to Love-passions, and sweet Embracements feigned by the Muse 'mongst Hills and Rivers; Whatsoever tastes of description, Battle, Story, Abstruse Antiquity, and (which my particular Study caused me sometime remember) Law of the Kingdom, To the more Severe Reader. To the one, Be contenting enjoyments of their Auspicious Desires; To the other, Happy Attendance of their chosen Muses.  
From the Inner Temple May. IX. M.DC.XII.   

Faults escaped in the Illustrations.  
PAg 22. in marg. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Pag. 34. l. 30. black haired. p. 35. l. 3. Marsyas P. 35. lin. Last save one, read Grandelchild i'd for son. P. 50. in marg. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. p. 66. marg. natura. p. 67. marg. Ammia● p. 68 marg. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. p. 68 l. 35. That not so much. p. 68 marg. aft p. 70. marg. Schei●ast. p. 70. l 44. for roses read fleys. 71. l. 29. tie l. 30. Adardaga. p. 72. marg. Sabinis.. pag. 73. lin. 30. Me●se. and, of Rollo there, read not without the examination to the thirteenth Song. pag. 95. lin 7 for Rivers, Bevers, p. 96. marg. Epod. p. 97. l. 22. Barrhit●● l. 44. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. p. 109. to the last line add, But I have read that the Author's name was john Maluerne, a follow of Oriall College in Oxford. who finished it in XVI. Ed. III. p. 125. in marg. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 lin. 6. Oiscing. l. 30. Bolgius p. 126. lin. 27. stont. pag. 130. Le●inaeum in marg. pag. 131. in marg. Their. pag. 14●. lin. 50. for New read New pag. 147. lin. 8. read Fou●e renascenti● quom etc. lin. 24. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 lin. 25. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. pag. 149. marg. Senen. p. 153. l. 29. Antium. p. 154. l. 13. You. in marg. Alij. Et. p. 164. l. 13. Earth, next night. p. 168 in marg. Rhetia p. 183. marg. Sympos. ibid. Aethiopum p. 185. l. 40. enjoying p. 187. marg. Douz. 224. l. 26. it ceased 225. l. 30. Hror●el. 34. DCCC. LIII. p. 284. l. 21. vini. 225. l. 14 Alba●eg●i. l. 16. Arzarbel. 17. Coning●burg. 244. marg Sansovin 256. lin. 26. etc. 27. English idiom. p. 267. marg. Alpheus. l. 21. Guadiana p. 269. marg. Illust. p. 270. marg. modestè sed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 271. marg. Rich l. Fin. Rot. p. 272. l. 2 Ralph Fitz l. 14 Pandulph. l. 22. Runingmede. l. 24 Charter and rhat of. l. 49. Peter de Roches. p. 273. l. 8. Leopold. p. 274. l. 30 looked were. p. 277. 9 Cognisances, and in the marg. Ice●●●. p. 278. l. 4. Hadham. p. 279. marg. dispunctio. p. 281. marg. Arenarij. and Q. Curt. p. 301. l: 45; deliver, pag. 302, make the inference of ᵒ to the last line save one. p. 303. Marg. Norwegians. If you meet with other, or Points omitted or amiss inserted, you may amend them.   

Faults escaped in the Poem.  
PAge 222. in the Margin, for bands read bounds. p. 250. l. 5. for Bernitia. read Diera. ibid. l. 13. for Diera, read Bernitia. p. 283. l. 26. for course he to. read course to.   

  

POLY-OLBION. The first Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
The sprightly Muse her wing displays,  
And the French islands first survaies;  
Beares-up with Neptune, and in glory  
Transcends proud Cornwall's Promontory;  
There crowns Mount-Michaell, and descries  
How all those Riverets fall and rise;  
Then takes in Tamer, as she bounds  
The Cornish and Devonian grounds.  
And whilst the Devonshire-nymphes relate  
Their loves, their fortunes, and estate,  
Dert undertaketh to revive  
Our Brute, and sings his first arrive:  
Then Northward to the verge she bends,  
And her first Song at Axe she ends.  
OF Albion's glorious Isle the Wonders whilst I write,  
The sundry varying soils, the pleasures infinite  
(Where heat kills not the cold, nor cold expels the heat,  
The calms 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 help shall I invoke to aid my Muse the while?  
Thou Genius of the place (this most renowned I'll)  
Which livedst long before the All-earth-drowning Flood,  
Whilst yet the world did swarm with her Gigantic brood;  
Go thou before me still thy circling shores about,  
And in this wandering Maze help to conduct me out:  
Direct my course so right, as with thy hand to show  
Which way thy Forests range, which way thy Rivers flow;  
Wise Genius, by thy help that so I may descry  
How thy fair Mountains stand, and how thy Valleys lie;  
From those clear pearly Cleeves which see the Morning's pride,  
And check the surly Imps of Neptune when they chide,  
Unto the big-swollen waves in the 
a The Western or Spanish Ocean.  Iberian stream,  
Where Titan still unyokes his fiery-hoofed Team,  
And oft his flaming locks in luscious Nectar steeps,  
When from Olympus' top he plungeth in the Deeps:  
That from 
b The coast of little Britain in France.  th' Armoric sands, on surging Neptunes leas  
Through the Hibernick Gulf (those rough Vergivian seas)  
My verse with wings of skill may fly a lofty gate,  
§. As Amphitrite eclipse this Island Fortunate,  
Till through the sleepy Main to 
c The furthest Isle in the British Ocean.  Thuly I have gone,  
And seen the frozen Isles, the cold 
d The Sea upon the north of Scotland.  Ducalidon,  
§. Amongst whose Iron rocks grim Saturn yet remains,  
Bound in those gloomy Caves with Adamantine chains.  
Ye sacred 
e The old British Poets.  Bards, that to your Harps melodious strings  
Sung th'ancient Heroës deeds (the monuments of Kings)  
And in your dreadful verse engraved the prophecies,  
The aged world's descents, and Genealogies;  
If, as those 
f Priests amongst the ancient Britain's.  Druids taught, which kept the British rites,  
And dwelled in darksome Groves, there counseling with spirits  
(But their opinions failed, by error led awry,  
As since clear truth hath show'd to their posterity)  
When these our souls by death our bodies do forsake,  
§. They instantly again do other bodies take;  
I could have wished your spirits redoubled in my breast,  
To give my verse applause, to times eternal rest.  
Thus scarcely said the Muse, but hovering while she hung  
Upon the 
g The French Seas.  Celtic wastes, the Sea-nymphs loudly sung:  
O ever-happie Isles, your heads so high that bear,  
By Nature strongly fenced, which never need to fear  
On Neptune's watery Realms when Aeolus raiseth wars,  
And every billow bounds, as though to quench the stars:  
Fair jersey first of these here scattered in the Deep,  
peculiarly that boast'st thy double-horned sheep:  
Inferior nor to thee, thou jernsey, bravely crowned  
With rough-imbatteld rocks, whose venom-hating ground  
The hardened Emerill hath, which thou abroad dost send:  
Thou Ligon, her belov'd, and Serk, that dost attend  
Her pleasure every hour; as jethow, them at need,  
With Pheasants, fallow Deer, and Coneys that dost feed:  
Ye seven small sister Isles, and Sorlings, which to see  
The halfe-sunk seaman joys, or whatsoe'er you be,  
From fruitful Aurney, near the ancient Celtic shore,  
To Vshant and the Seams, whereas those Nuns of yore  
§. Gave answers from their Caves, and took what shapes they please:  
Ye happy islands set within the British Seas,  
With shrill and jocund shouts, th'unmeasured deeps awake,  
And let the Gods of Sea their secret Bowers forsake,  
Whilst our industrious Muse great Britain forth shall bring,  
Crowned with those glorious wreaths that beautify the Spring;  
And whilst green Thetis Nymphs, with many an amorous lay  
Sing our Invention safe unto her long-wished Bay.  
Upon the utmost end of Cornwall's furrowing beak,  
Where 
a A small Island upon the very point of Cornwall.  Bresan from the Land the tilting waves doth break;  
The shore let her transcend, the 
b A hill lying out, as an elbow of land, into the Sea.  Promont to descry,  
And view about the Point th'unnumbered Fowl that fly.  
Some, rising like a storm from off the troubled sand,  
Seem in their hovering flight to shadow all the land;  
Some, sitting on the beach to prune their painted breasts,  
As if both earth and air they only did possess.  
Whence, climbing to the Cleeves, herself she firmly sets  
The Bourns, the Brooks, the Becks, the Rills, the Rivilets',  
Exactly to derive; receiving in her way  
That straightened tongue of Land, where, at Mount-Michaells Bay,  
Rude Neptune cutting in, a cantle forth doth take;  
And, on the other side, Hails vaster mouth doth make  
A * Chersonese thereof, the corner clipping in:  
Where to th'industrious Muse the Mount doth thus begin;  
Before thou further pass, and leave this setting shore,  
§. Whose Towns unto the Saints that lived here of yore  
(Their fasting, works, & prayers, remaining to our shames)  
Were reared, and justly called by their peculiar names,  
The bvilder's honour still; this due and let them have,  
As deign to drop a tear upon each holy Grave;  
Whose charity and zeal, in steed of knowledge stood:  
For, surely in themselves they were right simply good.  
If, credulous too much, thereby th'offended heaven  
In their devout intents, yet be their sins forgiven.  
Then from his rugged top the tears down trickling fell;  
And in his passion stirred, again began to tell  
Strange things, that in his days times course had brought to pass,  
That forty miles now Sea, sometimes firm fore-land was;  
And that a Forest then, which now with him is Flood,  
§. Whereof he first was called the H●are-Rock in the Wood;  
Relating then how long this soil had lain forlorn,  
As that her Genius now had almost her forsworn,  
And of their ancient love did utterly repent,  
Sith to destroy herself that fatal tool she lent  
By which th'insatiate slave her entrails out doth draw,  
That thrusts his gripple hand into her golden maw;  
And for his part doth wish, that it were in his power  
To let the Ocean in, her wholly to devour.  
Which, hail doth overhear, and much doth blame his rage,  
And told him (to his teeth) he doted with his age.  
For Hail (a lusty Nymph, bend all to amorous play,  
And having quick recourse into the Severne Sea  
With Neptune's Pages oft disporting in the Deep;  
One never touched with care; but how herself to keep  
In excellent estate) doth thus again entreat;  
§. Muse, leave the wayward Mount to hi● distempered heat,  
Who nothing can produce but what doth taste of spite:  
I'll show thee things of ours most worthy thy delight.  
Behold our Diamonds here, as in the quarr's they stand,  
By Nature neatly cut, as by a skilful hand,  
Who varieth them in forms, both curiously and oft;  
Which for she (wanting power) produceth them too soft,  
That virtue which she could not liberally impart,  
She striveth to amend by her own proper Art.  
Besides, the Seaholme here, that spreadeth all our shore,  
The sick consuming man so powerful to restore:  
Whose root th'Eringo is, the reins that doth inflame  
So strongly to perform the Cytheraan game,  
That generally approved, both far and near is sought.  
§. And our Main-Amber here, and Burie● Trophy, thought  
Much wronged, not yet preferred for wonders with the rest.  
But, the laborious Muse, upon her journey priest,  
Thus uttereth to herself; To guide my course aright,  
What Mound or steady Mere is offered to my sight  
Upon this outstretched Arm, whilst sailing here at ease,  
Betwixt the Southern waste, and the Sabrinian seas,  
I view those wanton Brooks, that waxing, still do wane;  
That scarcely can conceive, but brought to bed again;  
Scarce rising from the Spring (that is their natural Mother)  
To grow into a stream, but buried in another.  
When Chore doth call her on, that wholly doth betake  
Herself unto the Loo; transformed into a Lake,  
Through that impatient love she had to entertain  
The lustful Neptune oft; whom when his wracks restrain,  
Impatient of the wrong, impetuously he raves:  
And in his rageful flow, the furious King of waves,  
Breaks foaming o'er the Beach, whom nothing seems to cool,  
Till he have wrought his will on that capacious Pool:  
Where Menedge, by his Brooks, a 
* A place almost environed with water, well-near an Island.  Chersonese is cast,  
Widening the slender shore to ease it in the waist;  
A Promont iutting out into the dropping South,  
That with his threatening cliffs in horrid Neptune's 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) enforcing through his shocks  
Those arms of Sea, that thrust into the tinny strand,  
By their Meandred creeks indenting of that Land  
Whose fame by every tongue is for her Minerals hurled,  
near from the midday's point, throughout the Western world.  
here Vale, a lively flood, her nobler name that gives  
To 
* The bravery of Flamouth Haven.  Flamouth; and by whom, it famous ever lives,  
Whose entrance is from sea so intricately wound,  
Her haven angled so about her harbrous sound,  
That in her quiet Bay a hundred ships may ride,  
Yet not the tallest mast, be of the tall'st descried;  
Her bravery to this Nymph when neighbouring rivers told,  
Her mind to them again she briefly doth unfold;  
Let 
* This hath also the name of Alan.  Camel, of her course, and curious windings boast,  
In that her Greatness reigns sole Mistress of that coast  
Twixt Tamer and that Bay, where Hail pours forth her pride:  
And let us (nobler Nymphs) upon the midday side,  
Be frolic with the best. Thou Foy, before us all,  
By thine own named Town made famous in thy fall,  
As Low, amongst us here; a most delicious Brook,  
With all our sister Nymphs, that to the noone-sted look,  
Which gliding from the hills, upon the tinny over,  
Betwixt your high-reared banks, resort to this our shore:  
Loved streams, let us exult, and think ourselves no less  
Than those upon their side, the Setting that possess.  
Which, Camel overheard: but what doth she respect  
Their taunts, her proper course that loosely doth neglect?  
As frantic, ever since her British Arthur's blood,  
By Mordred's murderous hand was mingled with her flood.  
For, as that River, best might boast that conquerors breath,  
So sadly she bemoanes his too untimely death;  
Who, after twelve proud fields against the Saxon fought,  
Yet back unto her banks by fate was lastly brought:  
As though no other place on Britain's spacious earth,  
Were worthy of his end, but where he had his birth:  
And careless ever since how she her course do steer,  
This muttreth to herself, in wandering here and there;  
Even in the agedst face, where beauty once did dwell,  
And nature (in the least) but seemed to excel,  
Time cannot make such waste, but something will appear,  
To show some little tract of delicacy there.  
Or some religious work, in building many a day,  
That this penurious age hath suffered to decay,  
Some limb or model, dragged out of the ruinous mass,  
The richness will declare in glory whilst it was:  
But time upon my waste committed hath such theft,  
That it of Arthur here scarce memory hath left:  
The Nine-stoned Trophy thus whilst she doth entertain,  
Proud Tamer swoops along, with such a lusty train  
As fits so brave a flood two Countries that divides:  
So, to increase her strength, she from her equal sides  
Receives their several rills; and of the Cornish kind,  
First, taketh Atre in: and her not much behind  
Comes Kensey: after whom, clear Enian in doth make,  
In Tamer's room their banks, their rest that scarcely take.  
Then Lyner, though the while aloof she seemed to keep,  
Her Sovereign when she sees t'approach the surgefull deep,  
To beautify her fall her plenteous tribute brings.  
This honours Tamer much: that she whose plenteous springs,  
Those proud aspiring hills, Bromwelly and his friend  
High Rowter, from their tops impartially commend,  
And is by 
* A worthy Gentleman, who writ the description of Cornwall.  carew's Muse, the river most renowned,  
Associate should her grace to the Devonian ground.  
Which in those other Brooks doth Emulation breed.  
Of which, first Car comes crowned, with oziar, segs and reed:  
Then Lid creeps on along, and taking Thrushel, throws  
Herself amongst the rocks; and so incavern'd goes,  
That of the blessed light (from other floods) debarred,  
To bellow under earth, she only can be heard,  
As those that view her tract, seems strangely to affright:  
So, Toovy straineth in; and Plym, that claims by right  
The christening of that Bay, which bears her nobler name.  

The praise of Plymouth.  Upon the British coast, what ship yet ever came  
That not of Plymouth hears, where those brave Navies lie,  
From Canon's thundering throats, that all the world defy?  
Which, to invasive spoil, when th'English list to draw,  
Have checked Iberia's pride, and held her oft in awe:  
Oft furnishing our Dames, with India's rarest devices,  
And lent us gold, and pearl, rich silks, and dainty spices.  
But Tamer takes the place, and all attend her here,  
A faithful bound to both; and two that be so near  
For likeliness of soil, and quantity they hold,  
Before the Roman came; whose people were of old  
§. Known by one general name, upon this point that dwell,  
All other of this I'll in wrestling that excel:  
With collars be they yoked, to prove the arm at length,  
Like Bulls set head to head, with mere deliver strength:  
Or by the girdles grasped, they practise with the hip,  

* The words of Art in wrestling.  The forward, backward, falx, the mare, the turn, the trip,  
When stripped 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 drive it to the Goal, in squadrons forth they go:  
And to avoid the troops (their forces that forelay)  
Through dikes and rivers make, in this robustious play;  
By which▪ the toils of war most lively are expressed.  
But Muse, may I demand, Why these of all the rest  
(As mighty Albyons eldest) most active are and strong?  
From 
Our first great wrestler arriving here with Brute.  Corin came it first, or from the use so long?  
§. Or that this fore-land lies furth'st out into his sight,  
Which spreads his vigorous flames on every lesser light?  
With th'virtue of his beams, this place that doth inspire:  
Whose pregnant womb prepared by his all-powerful fire,  
Being purely hot and moist, projects that fruitful seed,  
Which strongly doth beget, and doth as strongly breed:  
The weldisposed heaven here proving to the earth,  
A Husband furthering fruit; 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 Nymphs, as high in Fortune's grace,  
And whence calm Tamer trips, clear Towridge in that place  
Is poured from her spring; and seems at first to flow  
That way which Tamer strains: but as she great doth grow  
Remembreth to foresee, what Rivals she should find  
To interrupt her course: whose so unsettled mind  
Ock coming in perceives, & thus doth her persuade;  
Now Neptune shield (bright Nymph) thy beauty should be made  
The object of her scorn, which (for thou canst not be  
Upon the Southern side so absolute as she)  
Will awe thee in thy course. Wherefore, fair flood recoil:  
And where thou mayst alone be sovereign of the soil,  
There exercise thy power, thy braveries and display:  
Turn Towridge, let us back to the Sabrinian sea;  
Where Thetis handmaids still in that recoursefull deep  
With those rough Gods of Sea, continual revels keep;  
There mayst thou live admired, the mistress of the Lake.  
Wise Ock she doth obey, returning, and doth take  
The Tawe: which from her fount forced on with amorous gales,  
And easily ambling down through the Devonian dales,  
Brings with her Moule and Bray, her banks that gently bathe;  
Which on her dainty breast, in many a silver swath  
She bears unto that Bay, where Barstable beholds,  
How her beloved Tawe clear Towridge there enfolds.  
The confluence of these Brooks divulged in Dertmoore, bred  
Distrust in her sad breast, that she, so largely spread,  
And in this spacious Shire the nearest the Centre set  
Of any place of note; that these should bravely get  
The praise, from those that sprung out of her pearly lap;  
Which, nourished and bred up at her most plenteous pap,  
No sooner taught to dead, but from their Mother trip,  
And in their speedy course, strive others to outstrip.  
The Yalme, the Awne, the A●me, by spacious Dertmoore fed,  
And in the Southern Sea, b●ing likewise brought to bed;  
That these were not of power to publish her desert,  
Much grieved the ancient Moor: which understood by Dert  
(From all the other floods that only takes her name,  
And as her eldest (in right) the heir of all her fume)  
To show her nobler spirit it greatly doth behove.  
Dear Mother, from your breast this fear (quoth she) remove:  
Defy their utmost force: there's not the proudest flood,  
That falls betwixt the Mount and Exmore, shall make good  
Her royalty with mine, with me nor can compare:  
I challenge any one, to answer me that dare.  
That was, before them all, predestinate to meet  
My Britaine-founding Brute, when with his puissant fleet  
At Totnesse first he touched? which shall renown my stream  
§. (Which now the envious world doth slander for a dream.)  
Whose fatal flight from Greece, his fortunate arrive  
In happy albion here whilst strongly I revive,  
Dear Harburne at thy hands this credit let me win,  
Quoth she, that as thou hast my faithful handmaid been:  
So now (my only Brook) assist me with thy spring,  
Whilst of the Godlike Brute the story thus I sing.  
When long-renowned Troy lay spent in hostile fire,  
And aged Priam's pomp did with her flames expire,  
Aeneas (taking thence Ascanius, his young son,  
And his most reverent Sire, the grave Anchises, won  
From shoals of slaughtering Greeks) set out from Simois shores;  
And through the Tirrhene Sea, by strength of toiling oars,  
Reached Italy at last: where, King Latinus lent  
Safe harbour for his ships, with wrackful tempest● rend:  
When, in the Latin Court, Lavinia young and fair  
(Her Father's only child, and kingdoms only heir)  
Upon the Trojan Lord her liking strongly placed,  
And languished in the fires that her fair breast embraced:  
But, Turnus (at that time) the proud Rutulian King,  
A suitor to the maid, Aeneas malicing,  
By force of Arms attempts, his rival to extrude:  
But, by the Teucrian power courageously subdued,  
Bright Cytherea's son the Latin crown obtained;  
And dying, in his stead his son Ascanius reigned.  
§. Next, Silvius him succeeds, begetting Brute again:  
Who in his Mother's womb whilst yet he did remain,  
The Oracles gave out, that next borne Brute should be  
§. His Parents only death: which soon they lived to see.  
For, in his painful birth his Mother did depart;  
And ere his fifteenth year, in hunting of a Hart,  
He with a luckless shaft his hapless Father slew:  
For which, out of his throne, their King the Latins threw.  
Who, wandering in the world, to Greece at last doth get.  
Where, whilst he lived unknown, and oft with want beset,  
He of the race of Troy a remnant happed to find,  
There by the Grecians held; which (having still in mind  
Their tedious ten years war, and famous Heroeë slain)  
In slavery with them still those Troyans' did detain:  
Which Pyrrhus thither brought (and did with hate pursue,  
To wreak Achilles' death, at Troy whom Paris slew)  
There, by Pandrasus kept, in sad and servile awe.  
Who, when they knew young Brute, & that brave shape they saw,  
They humbly him desire, that he a mean would be,  
From those imperious Greeks, his countrymen to free.  
He, finding out a rare and sprightly Youth, to fit  
His humour every way, for courage, power, and wit,  
Assaracus (who, though that by his Sire he were  
A Prince amongst the Greeks, yet held the Troyans' dear;  
Descended of their stock upon the Mother's side:  
For which, he by the Greeks his birthright was denied)  
Impatient of his wrongs, with him brave Brute arose,  
And of the Trojan youth courageous Captains chose,  
Raised Earthquakes with their Drums, the ruffling Ensigns rear;  
And, gathering young and old that rightly Trojan were,  
up to the mountains march, through straits and forests strong:  
Where, taking-in the Towns, pretended to belong  
Unto that 
* Assaracus.  Graecian Lord, some forces there they put:  
Within whose safer walls their wives and children shut,  
Into the fields they drew, for liberty to stand.  
Which when Pandrasus heard, he sent his strict command  
To levy all the power he presently could make:  
So, to their strengths of war the Troyans' them betake.  
But whilst the Graecian Guides (not knowing how or where  
The Teverians were entrenched, or what their forces were)  
In foul disordered troops yet straggled, as secure,  
This looseness to their spoil the Troyans' did allure,  
Who fiercely them assailed: where stanchless fury raped  
The Grecians in so fast, that scarcely one escaped:  
Yea, proud Pandrasus flight, himself could hardly free.  
Who, when he saw his force thus frustrated to be,  
And by his present loss, his passed error found  
(As by a later war to cure a former wound)  
Doth reinforce his power to make a second fight.  
When they whose better wits had over-matcht his might,  
Loath what they got to lose, as politicly cast  
His Armies to entrap, in getting to them fast  
Antigonus as friend, and Anaclet his fere  
(Surprised in the last fight) by gifts who hired were  
Into the Graecian Camp th'ensuing night to go  
And fain they were stolen forth, to their Allies to show  
How they might have the spoil of all the Trojan pride;  
And gaining them belief, the credulous Grecians guide  
Into th'ambushment near, that secretly was laid:  
So to the Troyans' hands the Grecians were betrayed;  
Pandrasus self surprised; his Crown who to redeem  
(Which scarcely worth their wrong the Trojan race esteem)  
Their slavery long sustained did willingly release:  
And (for a lasting league of amity and peace)  
Bright Innogen, his child, for wife to Brutus gave,  
And furnished them a fleet, with all things they could crave  
To set them out to Sea. Who launching, at the last  
They on Lergecia light, a I'll; and, ere they passed,  
Unto a Temple built to great Diana there,  
The noble Brutus went; wise 
* One of the titles of Diana.  Trivia to inquire,  
To show them where the stock of ancient Troy to place.  
The Goddess, that both knew and loved the Trojan race,  
Revealed to him in dreams, that furthest to the West,  
§. He should descry the I'll of Albion, highly blest;  
With Giants lately stored; their numbers now decayed:  
By vanquishing the rest, his hopes should there be stayed:  
Where, from the stock of Troy, those puissant Kings should rise,  
Whose conquests from the West, the world should scant suffice.  
Thus answered; great with hope, to sea they put again,  
And safely under sail, the hours do entertain  
With sights of sundry shores, which they from far descry:  
And viewing with delight th' Azarian Mountains hie,  
One walking on the deck, unto his friend would say  
As I have heard some tell) So goodly Ida lay.  
Thus talking 'mongst themselves, they sunburnt afric keep  
Upon the leeward still, and (sulking up the deeps)  
For Mauritania make: where putting-in, they find  
A remnant (yet reserved) of th'ancient Dardan kind,  
By brave Antenor brought from out the Greekish spoils  
(O long-renowned Troy! Of thee, and of thy toils,  
What Country had not heard?) which, to their General, then  
Great Corineus had, the strongest of mortal men:  
To whom (with joyful hearts) Diana's will they show.  
Who easily being won along with them to go,  
They altogether put into the watery Plain:  
Oft-times with Pirates, oft with Monsters of the Main  
Distressed in their way; whom hope forbids to fear.  
Those pillars first they pass which Jove's great son did rear.  
And cuffing those stern waves which like huge mountains roll  
(Full joy in every part possessing every soul)  
In Aquitane at last the ●l●on race arrive▪  
Whom strongly to repulse when as those recreants strive,  
They (anchoring there at first but to refresh their fleet,  
Yet saw those savage men so rudely them to greet)  
Unshipped their warlike youth, advancing to the shore.  
The Dwellers, which perceived such danger at the door,  
Their King Groffarius get to raise his powerful force:  
Who, mustering up an host of mingled foot and horse,  
Upon the Troyans' set; when suddenly began  
A fierce and dangerous fight: where Corineus ran  
With slaughter through the thick-set squadrons of the foes;  
And with his armed Axe laid on such deadly blows,  
That heaps of lifeless trunks each passage stopped up quite.  
Groffarius having lost the honour of the fight,  
Repairs his ruin'd powers; not so to give them breath:  
When they, which must be freed by conquest or by death,  
And, conquering them before, hoped now to do no less  
(The like in courage still) stand for the like success.  
Then stern and deadly War put-on his horridst shape;  
And wounds appeared so wide, as if the Grave did gape  
To swallow both at once; which strove as both should fall,  
When they with slaughter seemed to be encircled all:  
Where Turon (of the rest) Brutus' Sisters valiant son  
By whose approved deeds that day was chiefly won)  
Six hundred slew outright through his peculiar strength:  
By multitudes of men yet overpress at length.  
His nobler Uncle there, to his immortal name,  
§. The City Turon built, and well endowed the same.  
For Albion sailing then, th'arrived quickly here  
(O! never in this world men half so joyful were  
With shouts heard up to heaven, when they beheld the Land)  
And in this very place where To●nesse now doth stand,  
First set their Gods of Troy, kissing the blessed shore;  
Then, foraging this I'll, long promised them before,  
Amongst the ragged Cleeves those monstrous Giants sought:  
Who (of their dreadful kind) t'appall the Troyans', brought  
Great Gogmagog, an Oak that by the roots could tear:  
§. So mighty were (that time) the men who lived there:  
But, for the use of Arms he did not understand  
(Except some rock or tree, that coming next to hand  
He razed out of the earth to execute his rage)  
He challenge makes for strength, and offereth there his gage.  
Which, Corin taketh up, to answer by and by,  
Upon this son of Earth his utmost power to try.  
All, doubtful to which part the victory would go,  
Upon that lofty place at Plymouth called the Ho,  
Those mighty 
* The description of the wrestling betwixt Corineus and Gogmagog.  Wrestlers met; with many an ireful look  
Who threatened, as the one hold of the other took:  
But, grappled, glowing fire shines in their sparkling eyes.  
And, whilst at length of arm one from the other lies,  
Their lusty sinews swell like cables, as they strive:  
Their feet such trampling make, as though they forced to drive  
A thunder out of earth; which staggered with the weight:  
Thus, either's utmost force urged to the greatest height.  
Whilst one upon his hip the other seeks to lift,  
And th'adverse (by a turn) doth from his cunning shift,  
Their short-fetcht troubled breath a hollow noise doth make,  
Like bellows of a Forge. Then Corin up doth take  
The Giant twixt the grains; and, voiding of his hold  
(Before his cumbrous feet he well recover could)  
Pitched headlong from the hill; as when a man doth throw  
An Axtree, that with sleight delivered from the toe  
roots up the yielding earth: so that his violent fall,  
Struck Neptune with such strength, as shouldered him withal;  
That where the monstrous waves like Mountains late did stand,  
They leapt out of the place, and left the bared sand  
To gaze upon wide heaven: so great a blow it gave.  
For which, the conquering Brute, on Corineus' brave  
This horn of land bestowed, and marked it with his name;  
§. Of Corin, Cornwall called, to his immortal fame.  
Clear Dert delivering thus the famous Brutes arrive,  
Inflamed with her report, the straggling rivulets strive  
So highly her to raise, that Ting (whose banks were blest  
By her beloved Nymph dear Leman) which addressed  
And fully with herself determined before  
To sing the Danish spoils committed on her shore,  
When hither from the East they came in mighty swarms,  
Nor could their native earth contain their numerous Arms,  
Their surcrease grew so great, as forced them at last  
To seek another soil (as Bees do when they cast)  
And by their impious pride how hard she was bestead,  
When all the Country swum with blood of Saxons shed:  
This River (as I said) which had determined long  
The Deluge of the Danes exactly to have song,  
It utterly neglects; and studying how to do  
The Dert those high respects belonging her unto,  
inviteth goodly 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 cometh in, and Forto, which enforce  
Her faster to her fall; as Ken her closely eclipse▪  
And on her Eastern side sweet Leman gently slips  
Into her widened banks, her Sovereign to assist,  
As Columb wins for Ex, clear Wever and the Clist,  
Contributing their streams their Mistress fame to raise.  
As all assist the Ex, so Ex consumeth these;  
Like some unthrifty youth, depending on the Court,  
To win an idle name, that keepts a needless port;  
And raising his old rent, exacts his Farmer's store  
The Landlord to enrich, the Tenants wondrous poor:  
Who having lent him theirs, he than consumes his own,  
That with most vain expense upon the Prince is thrown:  
So these, the lesser Brooks unto the greater pay;  
The greater, they again spend all upon the Sea:  
As, Otre● (that her name doth of the Otters take,  
Abounding in her banks) and Axe, their utmost make  
(Tony the stout Dert, that dared Brutus' story to revive.  
For, when the Saxon first the Britan's forth did drive,  
Some up into the hills themselves o'er Severne shut:  
Upon this point of land, for refuge others put,  
To that brave race of Brute still fortunate. For where  
Great Brute first disembarqu this wandering Trojans, there  
§. His offspring (after long expulsed the Inner land,  
When they the Saxon power no longer could withstand)  
Found refuge in their ●light; where Axe and Otrey first  
Gave these poor souls to drink, oppressed with grievous thirst.  
here I'll unyoke awhile, and turn my steeds to meat:  
The land grows large and wide: my Team begins to sweated.  

¶ Illustrations.  
IF in Prose and Religion it were as justifiable, as in Poetry and Fiction, to invoke a Local power (fo● anciently both Jews, Gentiles, & Christians have supposed to every Country a singular 
a Rabbin. ad 10. Dan. Macrob. Saturnal. 3. cap. 9 Symmach. Epist. 40. lib. 1. D. Th. 2. dist. 10. art. 3. alij.  Genius) I would therein join with the Author. Howsoever, in this and all 
* God afore.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: and so I begin to you.  
As Amphitrite eclipse this Island fortunate.  
When Pope Clement VI granted the fortunate Isles to Lewes Earl of Clerimont, by that general name (meaning only the seven Canaries, and purposing their Christian conversion) the English Ambassadors at Rome seriously doubted, 
b Rob Auesburiens. A. XVII. Ed. III. The fortunate Isles.  lest their own Country had been comprised in the Donation. They were Henry of Lancaster Earl of Derby, Hugh Spenser, Ralph L. Stafford, the Bishop of Oxford, and others, agents therewith the Pope, that he; as a private friend, not as a judge or party interessed, should determine of Edward the third● right to France▪ where you have this Embassage in Walsinghan, 
a Hypodigmatis Neustriae locus emendatus, sub anno M.CCC.XLIV.  correct Regnum Angliae, and read Francia, Britain's excellence in earth and air (whence the Macares, 
b Pompo●. Mela l. 2. c. 7.  and particularly Crete among the greeks, had their title) together with the Pope's exactions, in taxing, collating, and provising of Benefices (an intolerable wrong to laymens inheritances, and the Crowne-revenewes) gave cause of this jealous conjecture; seconded in the conceit of them which deny Albion from 
* Happy.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 hither●to the Author in his title and this verse alludes. But of Albion more, presently.  
Amongst whose iron rocks grim Saturn yet remains.  
Fabulous jupiter's ill dealing with his Father Saturn, is well known, and that after deposing him, and his privities 〈◊〉 off, he perpetually imprisoned him. Homer 
c Iliad. ●. & Hesiod. in Theogon.  joins Impet with him, living in eternal night about the utmost ends of the earth: which well fits the more Northern climate of these Islands. Of them (dispersed in the Deucalidonian Sea) in one most temperate, of gentle air, and fragrant with sweetest odours, lying towards the Northwest, it is reported, 
d Plutar. de fancy in Orb Lunae. & l. de defect oracul.  that Saturn lies bound in iron chains, kep● by Briareus, attended by spirits, continually dreaming of jupiter's projects, whereby his ministers prognosticate the secrets of Fate. Every thirty years, divers of the adjacent Islanders with solemnity for success of the undertaken voyage, and competent provision, enter the vast Seas, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  and at last, in this Saturnian Isle (by this name the Sea is called also) enjoy the happy quie● of the place, some in studies of nature, and the Mathematics, which continued▪ others in sensuality, 
e Rabelais.  which after XXX. years return 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, Pasoh and his Argonautiques, and almost the whole Chaos of Mythique inventions. But neither Geography (for I guess no● where or what this Isle should be, unless than ideal 〈◊〉 which 〈◊〉 discovered) nor the manner self permits it l●sse Poetical (although a learned Greek Father 
f Clem. Alexandrin. stromat. ●. Odyss. ♌. Iliad. ●.  out of some credulous Historian seems to remember it) than the Elysian fields, which, with this, are always laid by Homer about the 
* Utmost ends of the earth. Upon affinity of this with the Cap● de Finistere, Goropius thinks the Elysian fields were by that Promontory of Spain. v. Strab. lib. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; a place whereof too large liberty was given to ●aine, because of the difficult possibility in finding the truth. Only thus note seriously, that this revolution of XXX. years (which with some latitude is Saturn's natural motion) is especially 
g Plin, hist. na●. 16. cap. 44.  noted for the longest period, or age also among our Druids; and that in a particular form, to be accounted yearly from the sixth Moon, as their New-yeares-day: which circuit of time▪ divers of the Ancients reckon for their generations in Chronologie; as store 
h Iliads. Herodot. lib. ●. Suid. in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Censori●. in de d●●nat. cap. 17.  of Authors show you.  
They instantly again do other bodies take.  
You cannot be without understanding of this Pythagorean opinion of trans-animation (I have like liberty to naturalise that word, as Lipsius had to make it a Roman, by turning 
* A passing of souls from one to another.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) if ever you read any that speaks of Pythagoras (whom, for this particular, Epiphanius reckons among his heretics) or discourse largely of Philosophical doctrine of the soul. But especially, if you affect it tempered with inviting pleasure, take Lucian's Cock, and his Negromancy; if in serious discourse, Plato's Phadon, and Phadrus with his followers. Lipsius' doubts 
l Physiolog. Stoi●. l. 3. dissert. 12.  whether Pythagoras received it from the Druids, or they from him, because in his travels he conversed as well with Gaulish as Indian Philosophers. Out of Caesar and Lucan inform yourself with full testimony of this their opinion, too ordinary among the heathen and jews also, which thought our 
a justin Martyr. dialog.  Saviour to be jeremy or Elias upon this error; irreligious indeed, yet such a one, as so strongly erected moving spirits, that they did never 
— 
* Spare in spending their lives, which they hoped to receive again.  rediturae parcere vitae,  but most willingly devote their whole selves to the public service: and this was in substance the politic enuoyes wherewith Plato and Cicero concluded their Common-welths, as Macrobius hath observed. The Author, with pity, imputes to them their being led away in blindness of the time, and errors of their fancies; as all other the most divine Philosophers (not lightened by the true word) have been▪ although (mere human sufficiencies only considered) some of them were sublimat far above earthly conceit: as especially Hermes, Orpheus, Pythagoras, (first learning the souls immortality of 
b Cicer. Tusculan. 1.  Pherecydes a Syrian) Seneca, Plato, and Plutarch; which last two, in a Greek hymn of an Eastern 
c joann Eucha●tens. iampridem Etoniae graecè editus.  Bishop, are commended to Christ for such as came nearest to holiness of any untaught Gentiles. Of the Druids more large in fitter place.  
Gave answer from their caves, and took what shapes they please.  
In the Seam (an Isle by the coast of the French Bretaigne) nine Virgins consecrate to perpetual chastity, were Priests of a famous oracle, remembered by Mela. His printed books have Gallicenas vocant; where that great critic Turneb reads 
* The Gauls call them jupiter's Priests or Bawds.  Galli Zenas, or Lenas vocant. But White of Basingstoke will have it 
* Vain.  Cenas, as interpreting their profession and religion, which was in an arbitrary metamorphosing themselves, charming the winds (as of later time the Witches of Lappland and Finland) skill in predictions, more than natural medicine, and such like; their kindness being in all chiefly to 
d Solin. Polyhist. cap. 35.  Sailors▪ But finding that in the Syllieses were also of both Sexes such kind of professors, that there were 
e 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Dionys. Asro in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 multis. n. pro a●bitrio antiquorum S. litera ad est vel abest. v. Casaubon. ad ●. Strab▪  Samn●tae, strangely superstitious in their Bacchanals, in an I'll of this coast (as is delivered by Strabo) and that the Gauls, Britain's, Indians (twixt both whom and Pythagoras is found no small consent of doctrine) had their Philosophers (under which name both Priests and Prophets of those times were included) called 
f Origen. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. lib a. Clem. Alex storm. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Diogen. La●rt. lib. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Conjecture upon Mela.  Samanai, and Semni, and (perhaps by corruption of some of these) Samothei, which, to make it Greek, might be turned into Semnothes: I doubted whether some relic of these words remained in that of Mela, if you read Cenas or Senas, as contracted from Samanaei; which by deduction from a root of some Eastern tongue, might signify as much, as, what we call Astrologers. But of this too much.  
Whose towns unto the Saints that lived here of you're.  
Not only to their own country Saints (whose names are there very frequent) but also to the Irish; a people anciently (according to the name of the 
g Festo Auteno Insula sacra dicta Hiber●ae.  Holy Island given to Ireland) much devoted to, and by the English much respected for their holiness and learning. I omit their fabulous Caesara niece to Noah, 
h Girald. Cambrens. dist. 3. cap. 2.  their Bartholan, their Ruan, who, as they affirm, first planted Religion, before Christ, among them: nor desire I your belief of this Ruans age, which by their account (supposing him living CCC. years after the flood, and christened by Saint Patriq●●s) exceeded M.DCC years, and so was elder than that impostor, 
i Assuerus Cordonnier (dictus in historiâ Gallicâ Victor● ante triennium editâ de la pa●x etc.) ●●ius parts olim egisse videntur Ioseph●● Clint●ophylacius (referent Episcopo Armenia●o apud Matth. Paris in Hen. 3.) & joannes ille (Guidom Bonato in Astrologiâ sic indigitalus) Butta-deus.  whose feigned continuance of life and restless travails, ever since the Passion, lately offered to deceive the credulous. Only thus I note out of Venerable Bede, that in the Saxon times, it was usual for the English and Gaulish to make Ireland, as it were, both their University and Monastery, for studies of learning and divine contemplation, as the life of 
In Bibliothec. Floriacens. edit. per joann. à bosco.  Gildas also, and other frequent testimonies discover.  
From which he first was called the Hoare-rocke in the wood.  
That the Ocean (as in many other places of other countries) hath eaten up much of what was here once shore, is a common report, approved in the Cornish name of S. Michael's mount; which is Careg Cowz in Clowz 
k Carew descript. Corn. lib. 2.  i. the hoar rock in the wood.  
And our main-Amber here, and Burien trophy—  
Main-Amber i. Ambrose's stone (not far from Pensans) so great, that many men's united strength cannot remove it, yet with one finger you may wag it. The Burien trophy is nineteen. stones, circularly disposed, and, in the middle, one much exceeding the rest in greatness: by conjecture of most learned Camden, erected either under the Romans, or else by K. Athelstan in his conquest of these parts.  
Were worthy of his end, but where he had his birth.  
near Camel about Camblan, was 
* Dictus hinc in Merlini vaticinio, Aper Cornubia.  Arthur slain by Mordred, and on the same shore, East from the rivers mouth, borne in Tintagel castle. Gorlois Prince of Cornwall at Vther-pendragons' coronation, solemnized in London, upon divers too kind passages and lascivious regards twixt the King and his wife Igerne, grew very jealous, in a rage left the Court, committed his wives chastity to this Castle's safeguard; and to prevent the wasting of his country (which upon this discontent was threatened) betook himself in other forts to martial preparation. Uther (his blood still boiling in lust) upon advice of Vlfin Rhicaradech, one of his Knights, by Ambrose Merlin's magic personated like Gorlois, and Vlsin like one jordan, servant to Gorlois, made such successful use of their imposture, that (the Prince in the mean time slain) Arthur was the same night begotten, and verified that 
l Euripid. Andromach. Bastards are oft-times better than legitimates.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; although Merlin by the rule of Hermes, or Astrological direction, justified, that he was conceived III. hours after Gorlois death; by this shift answering the dangerous imputation of bastardy to the heir of a crown. For Uther taking Igern to wife, left Arthur his successor in the Kingdom. Here have you a jupiter, an Alcmene, an Amphitry●, a Sofias, and a Mercury; nor wants there scarce any thing, but that truth-passing reports of Poetical Bards have made the birth an Hercules.  
Known by one general name upon this point that dwell.  
The name Dumnonij, Damnonij, or Danmonij, in Solinus and Ptolemy, comprehended the people of Devonshire and Cornwall: whence the Lizard- promontory is called Damnium in Marcian Heracleotes; 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  and William of Malmesbury, Florence of Worcester, Roger of Hoveden, and others, stile Devonshire by name of Dom●●nia, perhaps all from Duff neint. i low valleys in British; wherein are most habitations of the country, as judicious 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 wrestling and nimbleness of body, wherewith this Western people have been, and are famous, you may find in Carew's description of his country. But to give reason of the climate nature, for this prerogative in them, I think as difficult, as to show why about the Magellanique straits they are so white, about the Cape de buon speranza so black, 
a Ortelius theatro.  yet both under the same Tropic; why the Abyssins' are but tawny Moors, when as in the East Indian Isles Zeilan and Malabar, they are very black, both in the same parallel; or why we that live in this Northern latitude, compared with the Southern, should not be like affected from like cause. I refer it no more to the Sun, than the special Horsemanship in our Northern men, the nimble ability of the Irish, the fiery motions of the French, Italian jealousy, Germane liberty, Spanish puffed up vanity, or those different and perpetual carriages of state-governement, Haste and Delay, 
b Thucydid. ● & passim. de Athen. & Lacedaem. & de Thaebis & Chalcide v. Columell. i. de re rustic. cap. 4.  which as inbred qualities, were remarkable in the two most martial people of Greece. The cause of Aethiopian blackness and curled hair was long since judiciously 
c Onesecrit. ap. Strabon. lib. ●.  fetched from the disposition of soil, air, water, and singular operations of the heavens; with confutation of those which attribute it to the Sun's distance: And I am resolved that every land hath its so singular selfe-nature, and individual habitude with celestial influence, that human knowledge, consisting most of all in universality, is not yet furnished with what is requisite to so particular discovery: but for the learning of this point in a special Treatise Hypocrates, Ptolemy, Bodin, others have copious disputes.  
Which now the envious world doth slander for a dream.  
I should the sooner have been of the Author's opinion (in more than Poetical form, standing for Brute) if in any Greek or Latin Story authentic, speaking of Aeneas and his planting in Latium, were mention made of any such like thing. To reckon the learned men which deny him, or at least permit him not in conjecture, were too long a Catalogue: and indeed, this critic age scarce any longer endures any nation, their first supposed Author's name, not Italus to the Italian, not Hispalus to the Spaniard, Bato to the Hollander, Brabo to the Brabantine, Francio to the French, Celtes to the Celt, Galathes to the Gaul, Scota to the Scot; no, nor scarce Romulus to his Rome, because of their unlikely and fictitious mixtures: especially this of Brute, supposed long before the beginning of the Olympiads (whence all time backward is justly called by 
d Ap. Censorin. de dit not. cap. 21. Christoph. Heluici Chronologiam sequimur, nec, ut accuratius temporum subductioni hoc loci in●umbamus, res postulat; verèm & ille satis accuratè, qui Samuelis praefecturam A. MM. M.DCCC.L. haùt iniquo computo posuit.  Varro, unknown or fabulous) some M. M.D.CC. and more years since, about Samuels time, is most of all doubted. But (reserving my censure) I thus maintain the Author: although nor Greek nor Latin, nor our country stories of Bede and Malmesbury especially, nor that fragment yet remaining of Gildas, speak of him; & that his name were not published until Geffrey of Monmouths' edition of the British story, which grew and continues much suspected, in much rejected; yet observe that Tali●ssin a 
e Io. Pris. def. hist. Brit.  great Bard, more than M. years since affirms it, Nennius (in some copies he is under name of Gildas) above DCCC. years past, and the Gloss of Samuel Beaulan, or some other, crept into his text, mention both the common report, and descent from Aeneas; and withal, (which I take to be Nennius his own) make him son to one Isicio or Hesich●● (perhaps meaning Aschenaz, of whom more to the fourth Song) continuing a pedigree to Adam, joining these words: 
f Ex vetustiss & perpulchrè m. s. Nennio sub titulo Gildae.  This Genealogy I found by tradition of the Ancients, which were first inhabitants of Britain. In a Manuscript Epistle of Henry of Huntingdon 
g Lib. de summitatibus reru●● qui 10. est historiarum in m.s. Huntingdon began his History at Caesar, but upon better inquisition added Brute. Librun illum, in quem ait se incidisse, Nenuium fuisse obsignatis serm●tabulù sum potis adserere.  to one Warin, I read the Latin of this English; You ask me, Sir, Why omitting the succeeding reigns from Brute to julius Caesar, I begin my story at Caesar? I answer you, that neither by word nor writing, could I find any certainty of th●se times; although with diligent search I oft inquired it, yet this year in my journey towards Rome, in the Abbey of Beccensam, even with amazement, I found the story of Brute: and in his own printed book he affirms, that what Bede had in this part omitted, was supplied to him by other authors; of which Girald seems to have had use. The British story of Monmouth was a translation (but with much liberty, and no exact faithfulness) of a Welsh book, delivered to Geffrey by one Walter, Archdeacon of Oxford, and hath been followed (the Translator being a man of some credit, and Bishop of S. Asaphs, under K. Stephen) by Ponticus Virunnius an Italian; most of our Country Historians of middle times, and this age; speaking so certainly of him, that they blazon his coat 
a Harding. Nich. Vpton. de re militari. 2.  to you, two Lions combatant, and crowned Or in a field gules; others, Or, a Lion passant gules; and lastly, by Doctor White of Basingstoke, lately living at Douai, a Count Palatine; according to the title bestowed by the 
b C. tit. de professorib l. unica.  Imperials upon their professors. Arguments are there also drawn from some affinity of the Greek 
c Girald descript. cap. 15.  tongue, & much of Trojan and Greek names, with the British. These things are the more enforced by Cambro-Britons, through that universal desire, bewitching our Europe, to derive their blood from Troyans', which for them might as well be 
d Camden.  by supposition of their ancestors marriages with the hither deduced Roman Colonies, who by original were certainly Trojan, if their antiquities deceive not. You may add this weak conjecture; that in those large excursions of the Gauls, Cimmerians, & Colts (among them I doubt not but were many Britons, having with them community of nation, manners, climate, customs; and Brennus himself is affirmed a Briton) which under indistinct names when this Western world was undiscovered, overran Italy, Greece, and part of Asia, it is 
e Agesianax ap. Strab. lib. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  reported that they came to Tro● for safeguard; presuming perhaps upon like kindness, as we read of twixt the Troyans' and Roma●●s, in their wars with 
f Trog. Pomp. lib. 31.  Antiodius (which was loving respect through con●●●gence of blood) upon like cause remembered to them by tradition. Briefly, seeing no national story, except such as Thucydides, Xenophon, Polybius, Cae●ar, Tacitus, Procopius, Cantacuzen, the late Guicciardin, Commnines, Maccha●el, and their like, which were employed in the state of their times, can justify themselves but by tradition; and that many of the Fathers and Ecclesiastical 
g Melchior Canus lib. 11. de ant. hist. hum. de his plurima.  Histori●ns, especially therewish Rabbins (taking their highest learning of Cabala, but from antic and successive report) have inserted upon tradition many relations curr●nt enough, where holy Writ crosses them not: you shall enough please Saturn and Mercury, precedents of antiquity and learning, if with the Author you foster this belief. Where are the authorities (at least of the names) of jannes' & jambres, 
h Origen. ad 35. Matth.  the writings of Enoch, and other such like, which we know by divine tradition were? The same question might be of that infinite loss of Authors, whose names are so frequent in Stephen, Athenaeus, Plu●arch, Clemens, Polybius, Li●ie, others. And how dangerous it were to examine antiquities by a foreign writer (especially in those times) you may see by the Stories of the Hebrews delivered in justin, Strabo, Tacitus, and such ●●her discording and contrary (beside their infinite omissions) to Moses infallible conte●●. Nay he with his successor josuah 〈◊〉 copious in the Israelites entering; conquering, and expelling the Gergesites, 
See the VI Song.  Ieb●lites, and the rest out of the holy land; yet no 〈◊〉 have they of their transmigration, and peopling of afric, which by testimony of two pillars, 
i Precopius de bell. Vandilic. lib. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  erected and engraven at Ting● hath been affirmed. But you blame me thus expatiating. Let me add for the Author, that our most judicious antiquary of the last age john Leland, 
k Ad Cyg. Cant.  with reason and authority hath also for Brute argued strongly.  
Next, Silvius him succeeds—  
So goes the ordinary descent; but some make Silvius son to Aeneas, to whom the prophesy was given: 
— 
k Aeneid 6. & ibid. Seru. Honoratu●. After thy death Lavinia brings a King borne in the woods, father of kings.  Serum Lavinia coniunx,  
Educet Syluis regem regúmque parent●m.   
As you have it in Virgil.  
His parents only death—  
From these infortunate accidents, one 
l Basingstoch. lib. 1.  will have his name Brotus, as from the Greek 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 i mortal; but rather (if it had pleased him) from 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, i bloody.  
He should descry the Isle of Albion, highly blest;  
His request to Diana in an Hexastich, and her answer in an Ogdoastich, hexameters and pentameters, discovered to him in a dream, with his sacrifice and ritual ceremonies are in the British story: the verses are pure Latin, which clearly (as is written of 
m Cicer. de divinat. lib. 2.  Apollo) was not in those times spoken by Diana, nor understood by Brute: therefore in charity, believe it a Translation; by Gildas a British Poet, as Virunnius tells you. The Author takes a justifiable liberty, making her call it Albion, which was the old name of this Isle, and remembered in Pliny, Marcian, the book 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, falsely attributed to Aristotle, Stephen, Apulelus, others; and our Monk of Bury 
n Io. Lidgat. lib. de bell. Trojan. 5. & alibi saepius  calls Henry the fifth 
— Protector of Brutus' Albion,  often using that name for the Island. From Albina, daughter to Dioclesian 
o Chronic. S. Albani.  King of Syria some fetch the name: others from a Lady of that name, one of the Danaid's; affirming their 
p Hugo de Genes. ap. Harding. cap. 3.  arrival here, copulation with spirits, and bringing forth Giants. and all this above CC. years before Brute. But neither was there any such King in Syria, nor had Danaus (that can be found) any such daughter, nor traveled they for adventures, but by their father were newly 
q Pausanias' in Laconic.  married, after slaughter of their husbands: briefly, nothing can be written more impudently fabulous. Others from K. Albion, Neptune's son, from the Greek 
* Happy.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 others, or from (I know not what) Olibius a Celtish King, remembered by the false Mancthon. Follow them rather, which will it 
* From white cliffs.  ab albis rupibus, whereby it is specially conspicuous. So was an Isle in the Indian Sea called Leuca i. white and 
r 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, uti Euripides in Andromachâ, magis vellem, quam 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 quod ●anit Dionysi●● Afer.  another in Pontus, supposed also fortunate, and a receptacle of the souls of those great Heroes, Peleus and Achilles. Thus was a place by Tiber 
s Strabo lib. ●. & Sixt. Pompeius in Alpum.  called Albiona▪ & the very name of Albion was upon the Alpes, which from like cause had their denomination; Alpum in the Sabin tongue (from the Greek 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) signifying white. Some much dislike this derivation, 
t Humf. Lhuid. in Breviar.  because it comes from a tongue (suppose it either Greek or Latin) not anciently communicated to this Isle. For my part, I think clearly (against the common opinion) that the name of Britain was known to strangers before Albion. I could vouch the 
u Moshion ap. Athen. dipnosop●.  finding of one of the masts of Hi●r●'s Ship, 
* In the hills of Brittany.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈…〉 her torns de 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈…〉 lower Calubria in 〈◊〉, a place above all other, I remember ●●ore of Ship-tymber; commended 
x Thucydid. hist. ●.  by Alcibiades to the Lacedæmonians. But with better surety can I produce the express 〈◊〉 of 
* British Isles.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, out of a writer that 
y Polyb. hist. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. qu● I. C●sarem C C. ferm● 〈…〉  and traveled in warfare with Selpio; before whose time S●●lox (〈◊〉 king's Catalogue of XX. other Isles) and Heracletus (to whom these Western parts were by his confession unknown) never so much as speak of us by any name. Afterward was Albion imposed upon the cause before touched, expressing the old British name 
* The white Isle.  Inis-guin: which argument moves me before all other, for that I see it usual in antiquity to have names among strangers, in their tongue just significant with the same in the language of the country, to which they are applied; as the red Sea is (in Strabo, Curtius, Stephen, others) named from a King of that coast called Erythraus (for, to speak of red sand, as some, or red hills, as an old 
a Vranius in Arabic. ap. Steph, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  writer, were but refuges of shameful ignorance) which was surely the same with Esau, called in holy Writ Aedom 
b Gen. 36. Num. 20. ; both signifying (the one in Greek, the other in Hebrew) red. So the river Nile, 
c Iesai. 23. jirm. 2.  in Hebrew & Egyptian called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 i. black, in observed by that mighty Prince of learning's state, joseph Scaliger, to signify the same colour in the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, used for it by 
d Odyss. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉— fortè tamen, flwius Aegypti, ut Hebraeis 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Gen. 15. commat. 17  Homer; which is enforced also by the black 
e Pausan. Arcadic. ●.  Statues among the Greeks, erected in honour of Nile, named also expressly Melas: so in proper names of men; Simon Zelotes, 
f Festus in Alcedo.  in Luke, is but Simon the Chanavit, and 
g N●brissens. in quinquagen. cap. 49.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in Orpheus the same with Moses, janus with Oenetrus: and in our times those Authors, Melanchthon, Magirus, Theocr●nus, Palargus, in their own language, but Swertearth, Cooks, Fountain de dieu, stork. divers such other plain examples might illustrate the conceit; but, these sufficient. Take largest etymological liberty, and you may have it from 
h Camden.  Ellan-ban i. the white Isle, in Scottish, as they call their Albani●; and to fit all together, the name of Britain from Brith-inia i. the coloured Isle in Welsh, twixt which and the Greek 
i Vocabulo 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 usi sunt AEschylus, Sophocles, Hellanus, Archil●chus, Hecataus ap. Athenaum dipnosoph. 10. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 eiusdem perè natura cum Sytho & Curmithe apud Dioscoridem lib. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. cap. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. fertè 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (used for a kind of drink nearly like our Beer) I would with the French Forcatulus think affinity (as Italy was called Oen●tria, from the name of wine) were it not for that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 may be had from an ordinary primitive, or else from 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 i. sweet (as Solinus teaches, making Britomart signify as much as sweet Virgin) in the Cretique tongue. But this is to play with syllables, and abuse precious time.  
The City Turon built—  
Understand Tours upon Loire in France, whose name and foundation the inhabitants 
k Andrè du Chesne en les recorchez des vilies 1. ca 122.  refer to Turnus (of the same time with Aeneas, but whether the same which Virgil speaks of, they know not:) his funeral monuments they yet show, boast of, and from him idly derive the word Torneaments. The British story says Brute built it (so also Nennius) and from one Turon, Brutus' nephew there buried, gives it the name. Homer is cited for testimony: in his works extant it is not found. But, because he had divers others (which wrongful time hath filched from us) as appears in Herodotus and Suidas; you may in favour think it to be in some of those lost; yet I cannot in conscience offer to persuade you that he ever knew the continent of Gaul (now, in part, France) although a learned 
l Goropius in Hispanic. 4. ●. Strab. geograph. 2. & alios de Olyssippone.  Germane endeavours by force of wit and etymology, to carry Ulysses (which he makes of Elizza in Genesis) into Spain, and others before 
m Solin. Polyhist. cap. 35.  him (but falsely) into the Northern parts of Scotland. But for Homer's knowledge, see the last note to the six● song.  
So mighty were that time the men that lived there:  
If you trust our stories, you must believe, the land then peopled with Giants, of vast bodily composure. I have read of the Nephilim, the R●pha●●●, Anakim, Og, Goliath, and other in holy writ: of Mars, Tityus, Antaeus, T●●rnus, and the Titans in Homer, Virgil, Ovid, and of Adam's stature (according to jewish 
n Rabbi Eleazar ap. Riccium in epit. Talmud. caeterum in bâc. re allegoriam v. ap. D. Cypgianun serm. de montib. Sina & Zion.  fiction) equalling at first the world's Diameter; yet seeing that nature (now as fertile as of old) hath in her effects determinate limits of quantity, that in Aristotle's 
a 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  time (near M.M. years since) their beds were but six foot ordinarily (nor is the difference, twixt ours and Greek dimension, much) and that near the same length was our saviours Sepulchre, as Adamnan informed 
b Bed. hist. Ecclesiast. 5. cap. 17.  K Alfrid; I could think that there now are some, as great Statures, as for the most part have been, and that Giants were but of a somewhat more than vulgar 
c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Baruch. cap. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Consul, si placet, Scaliger. exercitat. Becan. becc●selan. ●. Augustin Ciu. Dei. 25. cap. ●2. Clement. Rom. Recognit. 1. Lactavit. etc.  excellence in body, and martial performance. If you object the finding of great bones, which, measured by proportion, largely exceed our times. I first answer, that in some singulars, as Monsters rather than natural, such proof hath been; but withal, that both now and of ancient, 
d S●●t●n. Oct●n. cap. 72.  time, the eyes judgement in such like hath been, and is, subject to much imposture; mistaking bones of huge beasts for human. 
e Dio Cass. lib. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Claudius' brought over his Elephants hither, and perhaps julius Caesar some, (for I have read 
f Poly●●. ●rata germat. ●. in Caesar●.  that he terribly frighted the Britons, with sight of one at Coway stakes) and so may you be deceived. But this in no place to examine it.  
Of Corin, Cornwall called, to his immortal fame.  
So, if you believe the tale of Corin, and Gogmagog: but rather imagine the name of Cornwall from this promontory of the lands end; extending itself like a 
g Cornugallia dicta est Henrico Huntingd●nio, a●ijs.  horn, which in most tongues is Corn, or very near. Thus 
h Strabo lib. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. &. ●. Steph. M●●. Plin. Geographi passim.  was a promontory in Cyprus, called Cerastes, and in the now Candy or Crete, and Gazaria, (the old Taurica Chersonesus) another titled 
* Ram's head.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and Brundisium in Italy had name from Brendon or 
i Seleucus ap. Steph. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & Suid. 〈◊〉.  Brention. i. a Harts-head in the Messapian tongue, for similitude of horns. But 
k De gest. reg. 2. cap. 6.  Malmesbury thus: They are called Cornewalsh men, because being seated in the Western part of Britain, they lie over against a horn (a promontory) of Gaul. The whole name is, as if you should say Corne-wales; for hither in the Sa●●n conquest the British called Welsh (signifying the people, rather than strangers as the vulgar opinion wills) made transmigration: whereof an old 
l Rob. Glocestrens.  Rhymer; 
The view that were of hom believed, as in Cornwall and Walis,  
Brutons ner namore ycluped, at Waleys iwis.  Such, was the language of your fathers between CCC. and CCCC. years since: and of it more hereafter.  
The deluge of the Dane exactly to have song.  
In the four year of 
m A. DCC. LXXX.VII.  Brithric, K. of the West Saxons at Portland, and at this place (which makes the fiction proper) three ships of Danish Pirates entered: the King's Lieutenant offering inquisition of their name, state and cause of arrival, was the first English man, in this first Danish invasion, slain by their hand. Miserable losses and continual, had the English by their frequent eruptions from this time till the Norman conquest, twixt which intercedes CC. LXX.IX. years: and that less account of 
n Audacter lege ducento● unce 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 tricentoes in sol. 237. Hovedeni, cui prologum libro quinto H. Huntindon. committas licet. Dangelt showed against a common error, both in remission and institution.  CC.XXX. during which space this land endured their bloody slaughters, according to some men's calculation, begins at K. Ethelulph; to whose ●●me Henry of Huntigdon, & Roger of Hoveden, refer the beginning of the Danish mischief, continuing so intolerable, that under K. Ethelred was there begun a tribute insupportable (yearly afterward exacted from the subjects) to give their King Sw●●n, & so prevent their insatiate rapine. It was between XXX. & XL, thousand 
o Mariano Scoto XXXVI. M. librae, & Florentio Wigorn.  pounds (for I find no certainty of it, so variable are the reports) not instituted for pay of Garrisons, ●mployed in service against them (as upon the misunderstanding of the Confessors●awes ●awes some ill affirm) but to satisfy the wasting enemy; but so that it ceased not▪ although their spoils ceased, but was collected to the use of the crown; until K. Stephen promised to remit it. For indeed S. Edward upon imagination of seeing a devil dancing about the whole sum of it lying in his treasury, moved in conscience, caused it to be repaid, and released the duty, as Ingulph Abbot of Crowland tells you: yet observe him, and read Florence of Worcester, Marian the Scot, Henry of Huntigdon, and Roger Hoveden, and you will confess that what I report thus from them is truth, and different much from what vulgarly is received. Of the Danish race were afterward in Kings, Cnut, Hardcnut, and Harold the 1.  
His offspring after long expulsed the inner land.  

Chronologiam hùc spectantem consulas in illustrat. ad. ●. Cant.  After some M.D. years from the supposed arrival of the Troyans', their posterity were by encroachment of Saxons, jutes, Angles, Danes (for among the Saxons that noble 
a jan. D●uz. Annal. Holland. 1. & 6.  Denz. wills that surely Danes were) Frisians 
b Procopius in frag. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 lib. Gothic. ap. Camden. Name of England.  and Franks driven into those western parts of the now Wales and Cornwales. Our stories have this at large, and the Saxon Heptarchy; which at last by public edict of K. Ecbert was called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. But john Bishop of 
c Pollicratic. lib. 6. cap. 17.  Chartres saith it had that name from * the first coming of the Angles; others from the name of Hengist 
d Chronic. S. Albani. Hector B●●t. Sc●ter. hist. 7.  (a matter probable enough) whose name, wars, policies, and government, being first invested by Vortigern in Kent, are above 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 I. Gower Epigram in confess. amantis.  country old Poets: 
— 
* Britain sings in hengist's tongue.  Engisti linguâ canit insula Bruti.  If I should add 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 conjectures of unlimitable fantasy, I should unwillingly, yet with them impudently, err.    

  

The second Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
The Muse from Marshwood way commands,  
Along the shore through Chesills' sands:  
Where, overtoyld, her heat to cool,  
She baths her in the pleasant Pool:  
Thence, over-land again doth scour,  
To fetch in Froome, and bring down Stowre;  
Falls with New-forrest, as she sings  
The wanton Wood-Nymphes revel.  
Whilst Itchin in her lofty lays,  
Chants Bevis of South-hamptons praise,  
She Southward with her active flight  
Is wafted to the I'll of Wight,  
To see the 〈◊〉 the Sea-gods keep:  
There swaggering in the Solent deep.  
Thence Hampshire-ward her way she bends;  
And visiting her Forest friends,  
Near Salisbury her rest doth take:  
Which she her second pause doth make.  
MArch strongly forth my Muse, whilst yet the temperate air  
Invites us, easily on to hasten our repair.  
Thou powerful God of flames (in verse divinely great)  
Touch my invention so with thy true genuine heat,  
That high and noble things I slightly may not tell,  
Nor light and idle toys my lines may vainly swell;  
But as my subject serves, so high or low to strain,  
And to the varying earth so suit my varying vain,  
That Nature in my work thou mayst thy power avow:  
That as thou first found'st Art, and didst her rules allow;  
So I, to thine own self that gladly near would be,  
May herein do the best, in imitating thee:  
As thou hast here 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 show;  
Now, as the Mountain high; then, as the Valley low:  
here, fruitful as the Mead, there as the Heath be bare;  
Then, as the gloomy wood, I may be rough; though rare.  
Through the Dorsetian fields that lie in open view,  
My progress I again must seriously pursue,  
From Marshwoods fruitful Vale my journey on to make:  
(As Phoebus getting up out of the Eastern lake,  
Refreshed with ease and sleep, is to his labour priest;  
Even so the labouring Muse, here baited with this rest.)  
Whereas the little Limb along doth easily creep,  
And Car, that coming down unto the troubled Deep,  
Brings on the neighbouring Bert, whose battening mellowed bank,  
From all the British soils, for Hemp most hugely rank  
Doth bear away the best; to Bert-port which hath gained  
That praise from every place, and worthily obtained  

By Act of Parliament 21. Hen. 8.  Our cordage from her store, and cables should be made,  
Of any in that kind most fit for Marine trade:  
Not severed from the shore, aloft where Chesill lifts  
Her ridged snake-like sands, in wrecks and smouldering drifts,  
Which by the Southwind raised, are heaved on little hills:  
Whose valleys with his flows when foaming Neptune fills,  

The beauty of the many Swans upon the Chesills, noted in this poetical delicacy.  Upon a thousand Swans the naked Sea-nymphs ride  
Within the ouzie Pools, replenished every Tide:  
Which running on, the I'll of Portland pointeth out;  
Upon whose moisted skirt with seaweed fringed about,  
The bastard Coral breeds, that drawn out of the brack,  
A brittle stalk becomes, from greenish turned to black:  
§. Which th'Ancients, for the love that they to Isis bore  
(Their Goddess most adored) have sacred for her hair.  
Of which the Naides, and the blue 
a Sea-Nymphs.  Nereids make  
Them 
b A kind of necklaces worn by country wenches.  Taudries for their necks: when sporting in the Lake,  
They to their secret Bowers the Sea-gods entertain.  
Where Portland from her top doth overpeer the Main;  
Her rugged front impaled (on every part) with rocks,  
Though indigent of wood, yet fraught with woolly flocks:  
Most famous for her folk, excelling with the fling,  
Of any other here this Land inhabiting;  
That therewith they in war offensively might wound,  
If yet the use of shot Invention had not found.  
Where, from the neighbouring hills her passage Wey doth path:  
Whose haven, not our least that watch the midday, hath  
The glories that belong unto a complete Port;  
Though Wey the least of all the Naïdes that resort  
To the Dorsetian sands, from off the higher shore.  
Then from (a nobler flood) the Muses doth implore  
Her mother Blackmores' state they sadly would bewail;  
Whose big and lordly Oaks once bore as brave a sail  
As they themselves that thought the largest shades to spread:  
But man's devouring hand, with all the earth not fed,  
Hath hewed her Timber down. Which wounded, when it fell,  
By the great noise it made, the workmen seemed to tell  
The loss that to the Land would shortly come thereby,  
Where no man ever plants to our posterity:  
That when sharp Winter shoots her sleet and hardened hail,  
Or sudden gusts from Sea, the harmless Deer assail,  
The shrubs are not of power to shield them from the wind.  
Dear Mother, quoth the Froome, too late (alas) we find  
The softness of thy sward continued through thy soil,  
To be the only cause of unrecovered spoil:  
When scarce the British ground a finer grass doth bear;  
And wish I could, quoth she, (if wishes helpful were)  
§. Thou never by that name of White-hart hadst been known,  
But styled Blackmore still, which rightly was thine own.  
For why, that change foretold the ruin of thy state:  
Lo, thus the world may see what 'tis to innovate.  
By this, her own named 
* Frampton.  Town the wandering Froome had passed:  
And quitting in her course old Dorcester at last,  
Approaching near the Pool, at Warham on her way,  
As easily she doth fall into the peaceful Bay,  
Upon her nobler side, and to the southward near,  
Fair Purbeck she beholds, which no where hath her peer:  
So pleasantly in-iled on mighty Neptune's marge,  
A Forest-Nymph, and one of chaste Diana's charge,  
Employed in Woods and Lands her Deer to feed and kill:  
§. On whom the watery God would oft have had his will,  
And often her hath wooed, which never would be won;  
But, Purbeck (as professed a Huntress and a Nun)  
The wide and wealth Sea, nor all his power respects:  
Her Marble-minded breast, impregnable, rejects  
The 
a Monsters of the Sea, supposed Neptunes Gard.  ugly Orks, that for their Lord the Ocean woo.  
Whilst Froome was troubled thus where naught she hath to do,  
The Piddle, that this while bestirred her nimble feet,  
In falling to the Pool her sister Froome to meet,  
And having in her train two little slender rills  
(Besides her proper Spring) wherewith her banks she fills,  
To whom since first the world this later name her lent,  
Who anciently was known to be instiled 
b The ancient name of Piddle.  Trent,  
Her small assistant Brookes her second name have gained.  
Whilst Piddle and the Froome each other entertained,  
Oft praising lovely Pool, their best-beloved Bay,  
Thus Piddle her bespoke, to pass the time away;  
When Poole (quoth she) was young, a lusty Seaborn Lass,  
Great albion to this Nymph an earnest suitor was;  
And bore himself so well, and so in favour came,  
That he in little time, upon this lovely Dame  
§. Begot three maiden Isles, his darlings and delight:  
The eldest, Brunksey called; the second, Fursey height;  
The youngest and the last, and lesser than the other,  
Saint Helen's name doth bear, the dilling of her Mother.  

The story of Poole.  And, for the goodly Pool was one of Thetis train,  
Who scorned a Nymph of hers, her Virgin-band should stain,  
Great albion (that forethought, the angry Goddess would  
Both on the Dam and brats take what revenge she could)  
I'th' bosom of the Pool his little children placed:  
First, Brunksey; Fursey next; and little Helen last;  
Then, with his mighty arms doth clip the Pool about,  
To keep the angry Queen, fierce Amphitrite out.  
Against whose lordly might she musters up her waves;  
And strongly thence repulsed (with madness) scolds and raves.  
When now, from Pool, the Muse (up to her pitch to get)  
Herself in such a place from sight doth almost set,  
As by the active power of her commanding wings,  
She (Falcon-like) from far doth fetch those plenteous Springs.  
Where Stour receives her strength from 
* Stour riseth from six fountains.  six clear Fountains fed;  
Which gathering to one stream from every several head,  
Her new-beginning bank her water scarcely weelds;  
And fairly entereth first on the Dorsetian fields:  
Where Gillingham with gifts that for a God were meet  
(enameled paths, rich wreaths, and every sovereign sweet  
The earth and air can yield, with many a pleasure mixed)  
Receives her. Whilst there past great kindness them betwixt,  
The Forest her bespoke; How happy floods are ye,  
From our predestined plagues that privileged Bee;  
Which only with the fish which in your banks do breed,  
And daily there increase, man's gormandize can feed?  
But had this wretched Age such uses to employ  
Your waters, as the woods we lately did enjoy,  
Your channels they would leave as barren by their spoil,  
As they of all our trees have lastly left our soil.  
Insatiable Time thus all things doth devour:  
What ever saw the sun, that is not in Time's power?  
Ye fleeting Streams last long, outliving many a day:  
But, on more steadfast things Time makes the strongest prey.  
§. Now towards the Solent sea as Stour her way doth ply,  
On Shaftsbury (by chance) she cast her crystal eye,  
From whose foundation first, such strange reports arise  
§. As brought into her mind the Eagles prophecies;  
Of that so dreadful plague, which all great Britain swept,  
From that which highest flew, to that which lowest crept,  
Before the Saxon thence the Britain should expel,  
And all that thereupon successively befell.  
How then the bloody Dane subdued the Saxon race;  
And, next, the Norman took possession of the place:  
Those ages, once expired, the Fates to bring about,  
The British Line restored; the Norman lineage out.  
§. Then, those prodigious signs to ponder she began,  
Which afterward again the Britan's wrack foreran;  
How here the Owl at noon in public streets was seen,  
As though the peopled Towns had way-less Deserts been.  
And whilst the loathly Toad out of his hole doth crawl,  
And makes his fulsome stool amid the Prince's hall,  
The crystal fountain turned into a gory wound,  
And bloody issues broke (like ulcers) from the ground;  
The Seas against their course with double Tides return,  
And oft were seen by night like boiling pitch to burn.  
Thus thinking, lively Stour bestirs her towards the Main;  
Which Lidden leadeth out: then Dulas bears her train  
From Blackmore, that at once their watery tribute bring:  
When, like some childish wench, she loosely wantoning,  
With ●ricks and giddy turns seems to in-Ile the shore.  
Betwixt her fishfull banks, then forward she doth scour,  
Until she lastly reach clear allen in her race:  
Which calmly cometh down from her dear mother 
c Cranburn Chase.  Chase,  
Of Cranburn that is called; who greatly joys to see  
A Riveret borne of her, for Stours should reckoned be,  
Of that renowned flood, a favourite highly graced.  
Whilst Cranburn, for her child so fortunately placed,  
With Echoes every way applauds her Alens state,  
A sudden noise from 
d Holt Forest.  Holt seem to congratulate  
With Cranburn for her Brook so happily bestowed:  
Where, to her neighbouring Chase, the courteous Forest showed  
So just conceived joy, that from each rising 
a A wood in English.  hur'st,  
Where many a goodly Oak had carefully been nursed,  
The Syluans in their songs their 〈◊〉 full meeting tell;  
And satires, that in stades and gloomy dimbles dwell,  
Run whooting to the hills to clap their rude● hands.  
As Holt had done before, so Canfords' goodly Lands  
(Which lean upon the Pool) enriched with Coppras veins,  
Rejoice to see them joined. When down from Sarum Plained  
Clear Auon coming in her sister Stour doth call,  
§. And at New-forrests foot into the Sea do fall,  
Which every day bewail that deed so full of dread  
Whereby she (now so proud) became first Forrested:  
She now who for her site even boundless seemed to lie,  
§. Her being that received by William's tyranny;  
Providing Laws to keep those Beasts here planted then,  
Whose lawless will from hence before had driven men;  
That where the hearth was warmed with Winter's feasting fires,  
The melancholy Hare is formed in brakes and briars:  
The aged ranpick trunk where Ploughmen cast their seed,  
And Churches overwhelmed with nettles, fern and weed,  
By Conquering William first cut off from every trade,  
That here the Norman still might enter to invade;  
That on this vacant place, and unfrequented shore,  
New forces still might land, to aid those here before.  
But she, as by a King and Conqueror made so great,  
By whom she was allowed and limited her seat,  
Into her owne-selfe praise most insolently broke,  
And her less fellow Nymphs, New-forrest thus bespoke:  

The Forests of Hampshire, with their situations.  Thou Buckholt, bow to me, so let thy sister Bear;  
Chute, kneel thou at my name on this side of the Shire:  
Where, for their Goddess, me the 
b Nymphs that live & die with Oakes.  Driads shall adore,  
With Waltham, and the Bear, that on the Sea-worne shore  
See at the Southern Isles the Tides at tilt to run;  
And Woolmer, placed hence upon the rising sun,  
With Ashholt thine Ally (my Wood-Nymphs) and with you,  
Proud Pamber towards the North, ascribe me worship due.  
Before my Princely State let your poor greatness fall:  
And vail your top● to me, the Sovereign of you all.  
Amongst the Rivers, so, great discontent there fell.  
Th'efficient cause thereof (as loud report doth tell)  
Was, that the sprightly Test arising up in Chute,  
To Itchin, her All●●, great weakeness should impute▪  
That she, to her own wrong, and every others grief,  
Would needs be telling things exceeding all belief:  
For, she had given it out Southampton should not lose  
§. Her famous Bevis so, went in her power to choose;  
§. And, for great Arthur's seat, her Winchester prefers,  
Whose old Round-table, yet she vaunteth to be hers:  
And swore, th'inglorious time should not bereave her right;  
But what it could obscure, she would reduce to light.  
For, from that wondrous 
* A Poole near unto Alresford, yielding an unusual abundance of water.  Pond, whence she derives her head,  
And places by the way, by which she's honoured  
(Old Winchester, that stands near in her middle way,  
And Hampton, at her fall into the Solent Sea)  
She thinks in all the I'll not any such as she,  
And for a demi-god she would related be.  
Sweet sister mine (quoth Test) advice you what you do;  
Think this; For each of us, the Forests here are two:  
Who if you speak a thing whereof they hold can take,  
Be't little, or be't much, they double will it make▪  
Whom Hamble helpeth our; a handsome ●ome proper flood,  
In courtesy well skilled, 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 she cannot stand.  
The more they her persuade, the more she doth persist;  
Let them say what they will, she will do what she li●t.  
She styles herself the● Chief, and swears shoe will command;  
And, whatsoever she saith, for Oracles must stand!  
Which when the Rivers heard, they further speech forbore.  
And she (to please herself that only seemed to ear)  
To sing th'achievement great of B●uis thus began;  
Redoubted Knight (quoth she) o most renowned man!  
Who, when thou, wer● but young, thy Mother durst reprove  
(Most wickedly seduced by the unlawful love  
Of Mordure, at that time the Almain Emperors son)  
That she thy Sire to death disloyally had done:  
Each circumstance whereof she largely did relate;  
Then, in her song pursued his Mother's deadly hate;  
And how (by Sabers hand) when she supposed him dead,  
Where long upon the Downe● a shepherds life he led;  
Till by the great reco●●●, he came at length to know  
The Country there about could hardly hold the show  
His Mother's marriage feast to fair Southampton drew,  
Being wedded to that Lord who la●● her husband slew:  
Into his noble breast which pierced so wondrous deep,  
That (in the poor attire he used to tend the sheep,  
And in his hand his hook) unto the Town he went;  
As having in his heart a resolute intent  
Or manfully to die, or to revenge his wrong:  
Where pressing at the gate the multitude among,  
The Porter to that place his entrance that forbade  
(Supposing him some swain, some boisterous Country-lad)  
Upon the head he lent so violent a stroke,  
That the poor empty skull, like some thin potsherd broke,  
The brains and mingled blood, were spertled on the wall.  
Then hasting on he came into the upper Hall,  
Where murderous M●rdure sat embraced by his Bride:  
Who (guilty in himself) had he no● Bevis spied,  
His bones had with a blow been shattered: but, by chance  
(He shifting from the place, whilst Bre●● did advance  
His hand, with greater strength his deadly foe to hit,  
And missing him) his chair he all to shivers split:  
Which struck his Mother's breast with strange and sundry fears,  
That Bevis being then but of so tender years  
Durst yet attempt a thing so full of death and doubt  
And, once before deceived, she newly cast about  
To rid him out of sight; and with a mighty ●●ge,  
Won such, themselves by oath as deeply dursting age,  
To execute her will▪ who shipping him away  
(And making forth their course into the Mid-land-se●)  
As they had got before, so now again for gold  
To an Armenia● there that young Alcides●old ●old▪  
Of all his got prize, who (as the worthiest thing,  
And fittest wherewithal to gratify his King)  
Presented that brave youth▪ the splendour of whose eye  
A wondrous mixture show'd of grace and majesty▪  
Whose more then manlike shape and matchless stature, took  
The King; that often used with great delight to look  
Upon that English Earl. But though the love he bore  
To Bevis might be much, his daughter ten times more  
Admired the godlike man▪ who from the hour that first  
His beauty she beheld, f●lt her sof● bosom pierced  
With Cupid's deadliest shaft▪ that I●sia●, to her guest,  
Already had resigned possession of her breast.  
Then sang she, in the field ●how as he went to sport,  
And those damned Pani●s heard▪ who in despiteful sort  
Derided Christ the Lord; for his Redeemer's sake  
He on those heathen hounds did there such slaughter make,  
That whilst in their black mouth●● their blasphemies they drew,  
They headlong went to hell. As also how he ●lue  
That cruel Boar, whose tusks turned up whole fields of grain  
(And, rooting, raised hills upon the level Plain;  
Digged Caverns in the earth, so dark and wondrous deep  
As that, into whose mouth the desperate 
* Curtius, that for his country's sake so lavished his life.  Roman leepe):  
And cutting off his head, a Trophy thence to bear▪  
The Foresters that came to intercept it there,  
How he their scalps and trunks in chip● and pee●●s 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 Bevis Knight:  
And having raised power, Damascus to invade,  
The General of his force this English Hero made.  
Then, how fair Io●●an gave him Ar●●d●ll his ste●d,  
And Morglay his good sword, in many a valiant deed  
Which manfully he tried. Next, in a 
* Lofty.  Buskined strain,  
Sung how himself he bore upon Damascus' Plain  
(That dreadful battle) where, with Bradamond he fought;  
And with his sword and steed such earthly wonders wrought,  
As even amongst his fo●s him admiration won▪  
Encountering in the throng with mighty Radison;  
And lopping off his arms, th'imperial standard took.  
At whose prodigious fall, the conquered Foe forsook  
The Field; where, in one day so many Peers they lost,  
So brave Commanders, and so absolute an host,  
As to the humbled earth took proud Damascus down,  
Than tributary made to the Armenian Crown.  
And how at his return, the King (for service done,  
The honour to his reign, and to Ar●●nia won)  
In marriage to this Earl the Princess Ios●an gave;  
As into what distress him Fortune after drove,  
To great Damascus sent Ambassador again;  
When, in revenge of theirs, before by Bevis slain  
(And now, at his return, for that he so despised  
Those Idols unto whom they daily sacrificed:  
Which he to pieces hewed and scattered in the dust)  
They, rising, him by strength into a Dungeon thrust;  
In whose black bottom, long two Serpents had remained  
(Bred in the common ●ewre that all the City drained)  
Empoysning with their smell; which seized him for their prey:  
With whom in struggling long (besmeared with blood and clay)  
He rend their squalid chaps, and from the prison scap't.  
As how adulterous joure, the King of Mambrant, rap't  
Fair Iosian his dear Love, his noble sword and steed:  
Which afterward by craft, he in a Palmer's weed  
Recovered, and with him from Mambrant bore away.  
And with two Lions how he held a desperate fray,  
Assailing him at once, that fiercely on him flew:  
Which first he tamed with wounds, then by the necks them drew,  
And 'gainst the hardened earth their laws and shoulders burst;  
And that (G●lia-like) great Ascupart enforced  
To serve him for a slave, and by his horse to run.  
At Colein as again the glory that he won  
On that huge Dragon, like the Country to destroy;  
Whose sting struck like a Lance: whose venom did destroy  
As doth a general plague: his scale● like shields of brass;  
His body, when he moved, like some unwieldy mass,  
Even bruised the solid Earth. Which boldly having song,  
With all the sundry turns that might thereto belong,  
Whilst yet she shapes her course how he came back to show  
What powers he got abroad, how them he did bestow;  
In England here again, how he by dint of sword  
Unto his ancient lands and titles was restored,  
New-forrest cried enough: and Waltham with the Bear,  
Both bad her hold her peace; for they no more would hear.  
And for she was a flood, her fellows naught would say▪  
But slipping to their b●●ks, slid fal●ntlie away.  
When as the pliant Muse, with fair and even flight,  
Betwixt her silver 〈…〉 wasted 〈◊〉 the 
a I'll of Wight.  Wight:  
That I'll, which 〈◊〉 out into the Sea so far,  
Her offspring traineth up in exercise of war▪  
Those Pirates to put back that oft purloin her trade,  
Or Spaniards, or the French attempting to 〈◊〉  
Of all the Southern Isles she 〈◊〉 the highest place,  
And evermore hath born the great 〈◊〉 Britai●●s grace:  
Not one of all her Nymphs her Sovereign favoureth thus,  
Embraced in the arms of old Oceanus.  
For none of her account, so near her bosom stand,  
Twixt 
b The Forelands of Cornwall and Kent.  Penwiths' furthest point and 
b The Forelands of Cornwall and Kent.  goodwin's queachy sand,  
Both for her seat and soil, that farr● before the other,  
Most justly may accounted great Britain for her Mother.  
A finer fleece than hers not Lemsters' self can boast,  
Nor Newport for her Mart, or marched by any Coast.  
To these, the gentle South, with kisses smooth and soft,  
Doth in her bosom breath, and seems to court her oft.  
Besides, her little Rille, her inlands that do feed,  
Which with their lavish streams do furnish every need:  
And Meads, that with their fine soft grafsie towels stand  
To wipe away the drops and moisture from her hand.  
And to the North, betwixt the fore-land and the firm,  

The Solent.  She hath that narrow Sea, which we the Solent term:  
Where those rough ireful Tides ●●s in her Straits they meet,  
With boisterous shocks and roars each other rudely grect:  
Which fiercely when they charge, and sadly make retre●●,  
Upon the bulwarkt Forts of 
c Two Castles in the Sea.  Hurst and Calsheat beaten,  
Then to Southampton run: which by her shores supplied  

Portsmouth▪  (As Portsmouth by her strength) doth vilify their pride;  
Both, Roads that with our best may boldly hold their plea,  
Nor Plimmouths self hath born● more braver ships than they;  
That from their anchoring Bays have travailed to find  
Large Chi●a● wealthy Realms, and viewed the either I●de,  
The pearly rich 〈◊〉▪ and with as prosperous fate,  
Have borne their ful-spred sails upon the streams of Plate:  
Whose pleasant harbours oft the Seaman's hope renew,  
To rig his late-crazed Bark, to spread a wanton clue;  
Where they with lusty Sack, and mirthful Sailors songs,  
Defy their passed storms, and laugh at Neptune's wrongs:  
The danger quite forgot wherein they were of late;  
Who half so merry now as Master and his Mate▪  
And victualling again, with brave and manlike minds  
To Seaward cast their eyes, and pray for happy winds.  
But, partly by the floods sent thither from the shore,  
And islands that are set the bordering coast before:  
As one amongst the rest, a brave and lusty Dame  
Called Portsey, whence that Bay of Portsmouth hath her name:  
By her, two little Isles, her handmaids (which compared  
With those within the Pool, for deftness not outdared)  
The greater Haling height: and fairest though by much,  
Yet Thorney very well, but somewhat rough in tuch.  
Whose beauties far and near divulged by report,  
And by the 
a Neptune's Trumpeters.  Tritons told in mighty Neptune's Court,  
Old 
b Proteus, a Sea-god, changing himself into any shape.  Proteus' hath been known to leave his finny Herd,  
And in their sight to sponge his ●oame-bespawled beard.  
The Sea-gods, which about the watery ki●●●ome keep,  
Have often for their sakes abandoned the Deep;  
That Thetis many a time to Neptune hath complained,  
How for those wanton Nymphs her Ladies were disdained:  
And there arose such rut th'unruly rout among,  
That soon the noise thereof through all the Ocean rung.  
§. When Portsey, weighing well the ill to her might grow,  
In that their mighty stirs might be her overthrow,  
She strongly straightneth-in the entrance to her Bay;  
That, 
A poetical description of the Solent Sea.  of their haunt debarred, and shut out to the Sea  
(Each small conceived wrong helps on distempered rage.)  
No counsel could be heard their choler to assuage:  
When every one suspects the next that is in place  
To be the only cause and means of his disgrace.  
Some coming from the East, some from the setting Sun,  
The liquid Mountains still together mainly run;  
Wave woundeth wave again; and billow, billow gores:  
And topsy-turvy so, fly tumbling to the shores.  
From hence the Solent Sea, as some men thought, might stand  
Amongst those things, which we call Wonders of our Land.  
When toghing up 
c Tichfield River.  that stream, so negligent of fame,  
As till this very day she yet conceals her name;  
By Bert and Waltham both, that's equally embraced,  
And lastly, at her fall, by Tichfield highly graced.  
Whence, from old Windsor hill, and from the aged 
d Another little hill in Hampshire.  Stone,  
The Muse those Countries sees, which call her to be gone.  
The Forests took their leave: Bear, Chute, and Buckholt, bid  
Adieu; so Wolmer, and so Ashholt, kindly did.  
And Pamber shook her head, as grieved at the heart;  
When far upon her way, and ready to depart,  
As now the wandering Muse so sadly went along,  
To her last Farewell, thus, the goodly Forests song.  
Dear Muse, to pled our right, whom time at last hath brought,  
Which else forlorn had lain, and banished every thought,  
When thou ascend'st the hills, and from their rising shrouds  
Our sisters shalt command, whose tops once touched the clouds;  
Old 
a The great & ancient forest of Warwickshire.  Arden when thou meetest, or dost fair 
b The goodly forest by Nottingham.  Sherwood see,  
Tell them, that as they waste, so every day do we:  
Wish them, we of our griefs may be each others heirs;  
Let them lament our fall, and we will mourn for theirs.  
Then turning from the South which lies in public view,  
The Muse an oblique course doth seriously pursue:  
And pointing to the Plains, she thither takes her way;  
For which, to gain her breath she makes a little stay.  

Illustrations.  
THe Muse, yet observing her began course of chorographical longitude, traces Eastward the Southern shore of the Isle. In this second, sing● Dorser and Hantshire; fi●ly here joined as they join themselves, both having their South limits washed by the British Ocean.  
Which th' Ancients, for the love that they to Isis' bare  
juba remembers 
a Apud Plin. hist. nat. lib. 13. cap. ●5.  a like coral by the Troglodytique Isles (as is here in this Sea) and styles it 
* Isis' hair.  Isidi● plocam●s. True reason of the name is no more perhaps to be given, then why Adiantum is called Capillus Veneris, or sengreen Barba iovis. Only thus: You have in Plutarch and Apuleius such variety of Isis' titles, and, in Clemens of Alexandria, so large circuits of her travels, that it were no more wonder to hear of her name in this Northern climate, then in Egypt: especially, 
Ouse.  we having three rivers of note 
b Leland. ad Cyg. Cant.  synonymies with her. Particularly to make her a Sea-goddesse, which the common story of her and Osiris her husband (son to Cham, and of whom Bale dares offer affirmance, that in his traveling over the world, he first taught the Britons to make Beer in steed of Wine) does not: 
* Isis' of the Se●.  Isis Pelagia, after Pausanias' testimony, hath an 
c Golez. thes. antiq.  old coin. The special notice which Antiquity took of her hair is not only showed by her attribute 
d Philostrat in ein..  of 
* Loosehaird.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, but also in that her hair was kept as a sacred relic in 
e Lucian, in ein..  Memphis, as Geryons bones at Thebes, the Boor's skin at Tegea, and such like elsewhere. And after this to fit our coral lust with her colour, 
* Aethiopian sunneburnt.  Aethiopicis solibus Isis furua, she is called by 
f Adverse. gent. ●. Blacke-haire.  Arnobuis. Gentlewomen of black hair (no fault with brevity to turn to them) have no simple pattern of that part in this great Goddess, whose name indeed comprehended whatsoever in the Deity was feminine, and more too; nor will I swear, but that Anacreou (a man very judicious in the provoking motives of wanton love) intending to bestow on his sweet Mistress that one of the titles of women's special ornament, 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. well haired, and prettyfoo●ed; two special commendations, dispersed in Gre●ke Poets, joined in Lucilius.  Well-haired, thought of this, when he gave his Painter direction to make her picture blarke-haired. But thus much out of the way.  
Thou never by that name of white-hart hadst been known.  
Very likely from the soil was the old name Blackmore. By report of this country, the change was from a white heart, reserved here from Chase, by express 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 Blackmore (called 
g Camden.  white-hart silver) is to this day paid into the Exchequer. The destruction of woods here bewailed by the Muse, is (upon occasion too often given) often seconded: 
Destruction of woods.  but while the Muse bewails them, it is Maryas and his countrymen, that most want them.  
On whom the watery God would oft have had his william.  
Purbecke (named, but indeed not, an Isle, being joined to the firm land) stored with game of the Forest.  
Thence alluding to Diana's devotions, the author well calls her an Huntres and a Nun. Nor doth the embracing force of the Ocean (whereto she is adjacent) although very violent, prevail against her stony cliffs. To this purpose the Muse is here wanton with Neptune●ooing ●ooing.  
That he in little time upon this lovely dame,  
Begat three maiden Isles his darlings and delight.  
Albion (son of Neptune) from whom that first name of this Britain was supposed, is well fitted to the fruitful bed of this Pool, thus personated as a Sea Nymph. The plain truth (as words may certify your eyes, saving all impropriety of object) is, 
Isles newly out of the Sea.  that in 〈◊〉 Poole are seated three Isles, Brunkse●, Fursey, and S. Helen's, in situation and magnitude, as I name them. Nor is the fiction of begetting the Isles improper; seeing Greek 
h Lucian dialog. Pindar. olymp. ●. Strab. Pa●san●●●.  antiquities tell us of divers in the Mediterranean and the Archipelag, as Rhodes, Delos, Hi●ra, the Echinades, and others, which have been, as it were, brought forth out of the salt womb of Amphitrite.  
But towards the Solent Sea, as Stour her way doth ply,  
On Shaftsbury, etc.  
The strait twixt the Wight and Hantshire, is titled in Bedes Story, 
* A Sea three miles over, called Solente lib. 4 hist. eccles. cap. ●6.  Pelagus latitudinic III, millium quod vocatur Solente; famous for the double, and thereby most violent floods of the Ocean (as Scylla & Charybdi● twixt Sicily and Italy in Homer) expressed by the Author towards the end of this Song, & reckoned among our British wonders. Of it the Author tells you more presently. Concerning Shaftesbury (which, beside other names, 
i Malmesb. lib. 2. the Pontific. S. Edward's. DCCCC. LXXIX.  from the corpse of St. Edward, murdered in C●rf● Castle▪ through procurement of the bloody hate of his stepmother Aelfrith, hither translated, and some III. years lying buried, was once called St. Edwards) you shall hear a piece out of Harding; 

k Camden takes this Cair for Bath.  Cairo Paladoure that now is Shaftesbury  
Where an Angel spoke sitting 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 Harding amended.  reading Aigle for Angel, and also that it might then, according to the British story, help me explain the author in this, 
As brought into her mind the Eagles prophecies.   
This Eagle (whose prophecies among the Britons, with the later of Merlin, have been of no less respect, than those of Bacis were to the greeks, or the Sybillines to the Romans) foretold of a reverting of the crown, alter the Britons, Saxons, and Normans to the first again, which in Hen. VII. son to Owen Tyddour, hath been, 
m 
Twin. in Albioni●. 2.  
See the 5. Song.   observed, as fulfilled. This in particular is peremptorily affirmed by that Count Palatine of Basingstoke. 
* He plainly said that there would be a time of this reverting of the Crown.  Et apart dixit tempus aliquando fore ut Britannicum imperium denuo sitad veteres Britannes post Saxovas & Normannos rediturum; are his words of this Eagle. But this prophecy in Manuscript I have seen, and without the help of Albertus' secret, Canace's ring in Cha●cer, or reading over Aristophanes' Comedy of Birds I understood the language▪ neither find I in it any such matter expressly. Indeed as in Merlin you have in him the white Dragon, the red Dragon, the black Dragon for the Saxons, Britain's, Normanes, and the fertile tree, supposed for Brute, by one that of later time hath given his obscurities' 
n Distinct. Aquil Sceptonia. A prophecy of an Angel to Cadwallader.  interpretation: in which, not from the Eagles, but from an Angelical voice, almost DCC. years after Christ, given to Cadwallader (whom others call Cedwalla) that restitution of the crown to the Britons is promised, and grounded also upon some general and ambiguous words in the Eag●● text, by the Author here followed; which (provided your faith be strong) you must believe made more than M.M.D. years since. For a corrollary, in this not unfit place, I will transcribe a piece of the Gloss out of an old copy, speaking thus upon a passage in the prophecy: Henricus 
o A Sceptre in steed of a sword first in Hen, the thirds seal, but believe him not; the seals of those times give no warrant for it: and even in K. Arthur's, Leland says, there was a fleury Sceptre; but that perhaps as feigned, at this false.  four (he means Hen. III. who, by the ancient account in regard of Henry, son to Henry Fite-lempresse, crowned in his father's life, is in Bracton and others called the fourth) concessit omne ius & clameum, prose & heredibus suis, quod habuit in Ducatu Normannia imperpetuùm. Tunc fractum fuit eius sigillum & mutatum; nam prius tenebat in scepter●gladium, nunc tenet virgam; qui gladius fuit de conquestu Ducis Willielm● Bastardi, & ideo dicit Aquila, separabitur gladius à sceptre. Such good fortune have these predictions, that either by conceit (although strained) they are applied to accident, or else ever religiously expected; as 
* Hist. Scot lib. 5. in Cong allo.  Buchanan of Merlin's, 
Then those prodigious signs to ponder she began.   
I would not have you lay to the Authors charge a justification of these signs at those times: but his liberty herein, it is not hard to justify, 
Obseditque frequens castrorum limina bub●:  and such like hath Silius Italicus before the Roman overthrow at Canna; and Historians commonly affirm the like; therefore a Poet may well guess the like.  
And at New-forrest foot into the Sea doth fall.  
The fall of Stour and Auon into the Ocean is the limit of the two shires, and here limits the Author's description of the first, his Muse now entering New-forrest in Hantshire.  
Her being that received by William's tyranny.  
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 Conqueror. His love to this kind of possession and pleasure was such, that he constituted loss 
p Hunting●. and under William. 11. it was capital to steal Dear.  of Eyes punishment for taking his Venery: so affirm expressly Florence of Worcester, Henry of Huntingdon, Walter Mapez, and others, although the Author of Distenctio Aquilae, with some of later time, falsely laid it to William Rufus his charge. To justify my truth, and for variety, see these rhymes, 
q Robert. Glocestrensi.  even breathing antiquity: 
Game of hounds he lovede ●●ou, and of wild best,  
And 
* His.  is forest, and is woods, and most the niwe forest,  
That is in Suthamtessire, vor thulke he lovede ●now  
And astored well 
* With.  mid beasts, and 
* Pastures.  lese mid great wou:  
Uor he cast out of house and hom of men a great rout,  
And 
* took.  binom their land thritti mile and more thereabout,  
And made it all forest and less the bests warrant to feed,  
Of pover men diserited he nom let el heed:  
Theruore therein well money mischeving,  
And is soon was therein 
* Shot by Walter Tirell.  issote William the red King,  
And 
* Shot by Walter Tirell.  is oh sone, that haet Richard, caght there is death also,  
And Richard 
* His own.  is oh neven, brec there is neck thereto,  
As he rod an honteth and perauntre his horse sprend,  
The unright ●do to pover men to such mesauntre trend,   
But to quit you of this antic verse, I return to the pleasanter Muse.  
Her famous Bevis so wert in her power to choose;  
About the Norman invasion was Bevis famous with title of Earl of Southampton; Duncton in Wiltshire known for his residence. What credit you are to give to the Hyperboles of Itchin in her relation of Bevis, your own judgement, and the Author's censure in the admonition of the other rivers here personated, I presume, will direct. And it is wished that the poetical Monks in celebration of him, Arthur, and other such Worthies had contained themselves within bounds of likelihood; or else that some judges, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  proportionat to those 
r Lucian. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  of the Grecian Games, (who always by public authority pulled down the statues erected, if they exceeded the true symmetry of the victors) had given such exorbitant fictions their desert. The sweet grace of an enchanting Poem (as unimitable Pindar 
s Olymp. ● & Nem. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  affirms) often compels belief; but so far have the indigested reports of barren and Monkish invention expatiated out of the lists of Truth, that from their intermixed and absurd fauxeties hath proceeded doubt; and, in some, even denial of what was truth. His sword is kept as a relic in Arundel Castle, not equalling in length (as it is now worn) that of Edward the thirds at Westminster.  
And for great Arthur's seat her Winchester prefers,  
Whose old round table yet, etc.  
For him, his table, order, Knights, and places of their celebration, look to the IV. Song.  
When Portsey weighing well the ill to her might grow.  
Portsey an Island in a creak of the Solent, coming in by Portesmouth, endures the forcible violence of that troublesome sea, as the Verse tells you in this fiction of wooing.    

  

The third Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
In this third Song, great threatenings are,  
And tending all to Nymphish war.  
Old Wansdike uttereth words of hate,  
Depraving Stonendges estate.  
Clear Avon and fair Willy strive,  
Each pleading her prerogative.  
The Plain the Forests doth disdain:  
The Forests rail upon the Plain.  
The Muse than seeks the Shires extremes,  
To find the Fountain of great Tames;  
Falls down with Avon, and descries  
Both Baths and bristol braveries:  
Then views the Sommersetian soil;  
Through Marshes, Mines, and Mores doth toil,  
To Avalon to Arthur's Grave,  
Sadly bemoa●d of Ochy Cave.  
Then with delight she bravely brings  
The Princely Parrot from her Springs:  
Preparing for the learned Plea  
(The next Song) in the Severne Sea.  
UP with the jocund Lark (Too long we take our rest.)  
Whilst yet the blushing dawn out of the cheerful East  
Is ushering forth the Day to light the Muse along:  
Whose most delightful touch, and sweetness of her Song,  
Shall force the lusty Swains out of the Country-townes,  
To lead the loving Girls in dances to the Downs.  
The Nymphs, in Selwoods' shades and Bradens woods that be,  
Their Oaken wreaths, o Muse, shall offer up to thee.  
And when thou shap'st thy course towards where the soil is rank,  
The Sommersetian maids, by swelling Sabryns bank  
Shall strew the ways with flowers (where thou art coming on)  
Brought from the Marshie-grounds by aged 
* Glastenburie.  Avalon.  
From Sarum thus we set, removed from whence it stood  
By Avon to reside, her dearest loved Flood:  
Where her imperious 
a The goodly Church at Salisbury.  Fane her former seat disdains,  
And proudly overtops the spacious neighbouring Plains.  
What pleasures hath this I'll, of us esteemed most dear,  
In any place, but poor unto the plenty here?  
The chaulkie 
b Two places famous for Hares, the one in Buckinghamshire, the other in North-hamptonshire.  Chilteru fields, nor Kelmarsh self compares  
With 
c Euerley warten of Hares.  Euerley for store and swiftness of her Hares:  
A horse of greater speed, nor yet a righter hound,  
Not any where twixt Kent and 
d The furthest part of Scotland.  Calydon is found.  
Nor yet the level South can show a smother Race,  
Whereas the 
* Gant.  baton Nag outstrips the winds in chase;  
As famous in the West for matches yearly tried,  
As 
e A famous Yorkshire hors-race.  Garterley, possessed of all the Northern pride:  
And on his match, as much the Western horseman lays,  
As the rank-riding Scots upon their 
f The best kind of Scotish nags.  galloways.  
And as the Western soil 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 Western hounds generally the best.  The only kind of Hounds, for mouth and nostril best;  
That cold doth seldom fret, nor heat doth over-haile;  
As standing in the Flight, as pleasant on the Trail;  
Free hunting, easily checked, and loving every Chase;  
Strait running, hard, and tough, of reasonable pace:  
Not heavy, as that hound which Lancashire doth breed;  
Nor as the Northern kind, so light and hot of speed,  
Upon the clearer Chase, or on the foiled Train,  
Doth make the sweetest cry, in woodland, or on Plain.  
Where she, of all the Plains of Britain, that doth bear  
The name to be the first (renowned every where)  
Hath worthily obtained that Stonendge there should stand:  
She, first of Plains; and 
g Stonendge the greatest Wonder of England.  that, first Wonder of the Land.  
She Wansdike also wins, by whom she is embraced,  
That in his aged arms doth gird her ampler waist:  
Who (for a mighty Mound sith long he did remain  
§. Betwixt the Mercians rule, and the Westsaxons reign,  
And therefore of his place himself he proudly bore)  
Had very oft been heard with Stonendge to compare;  
Whom for a paltry Ditch, when Stonendge pleased t'upbraid,  
The old man taking heart, thus to that Trophy said;  
Dull heap, that thus thy head above the rest dost rear,  
Precisely yet not knowst who first did place thee there;  
But Traitor basely turned to Merlin's skill dost fly,  
And with his magics dost thy Maker's truth bely:  
Conspirator with Time, now grown so mean and poor,  
Comparing these his spirits with those that went before;  
Yet rather art content thy Bvilder's praise to lose,  
Then passed greatness should thy present wants disclose.  
Ill did those mighty men to trust thee with their story,  
That hast forgot their names, who reared thee for their glory:  
For all their wondrous cost, thou that hast served them so,  
What 'tis to trust to Tombs, by thee we easily know.  
In these invectives thus whilst W●nsdick doth complain,  
He interrupted is by that imperlous 
* Salisbury-Plaine.  Plain,  
§. To hear two cry st●ll Floods to court her, that apply  
Themselves, which should be seen most gracious in her eye.  
First, Willy boasts herself more worthy than the other,  
And better far derived: as having to her mother  
Fair 
a A Forest betwixt Wiltshire and Sommersetshire.  Selwood, and to bring up 
b Of diving under the earth.  Diver in her train;  
Which, when the envious soil would from her course restrain,  
A mile creeps under earth, as flying all resort:  
And how clear Nader waits attendance in her Court;  
And therefore claims of right the Plain should hold her dear, 
Wilton of Willie, and Wiltshire of Wilton.   
Which gives that Town the name; which likewise names the Shire.  
The Eastern Avon vaunts, and doth upon her take  
To be the only child of shadeful 
c A Forest in Wiltshire, as the Map will tell you.  Sauernake,  
As Ambrayes ancient flood; herself and to enstyle  
The Stonendges best-loved, first wonder of the I'll;  
And what (in her behoof) might any want supply,  
She vaunts the goodly seat of famous Salisbury;  
Where meeting pretty Bourne, with many a kind embrace,  
Betwixt their crystal arms they clip that loved place.  
Report, as lately raised, unto these Rivers came,  
§. That Baths clear Avon (waxed imperious through her fame)  
Their dalliance should deride; and that by her disdain,  
Some other smaller Brooks, belonging to the Plain,  
A question seemed to make, whereas the Shire sent forth  
Two Avons, which should be the flood of greatest worth;  
This stream, which to the South the 
d The French Sea, as you have in the note before.  Celtic Sea doth get,  
Or that which from the North saluteth Somerset.  
This when these Rivers heard, that even but lately strove  
Which best did love the Plain, or had the Plains best love,  
They strait themselves combine: for Willy wisely weighed,  
That should her Avon lose the day for want of aid,  
If one so great and near were overpress with power,  
The Foe (she being less) would quickly her devour.  
As two contentious Kings, that on each little jar,  
Defiances send forth, proclaiming open war,  
Until some other Realm, that on their frontiers lies,  
Be hazarded again by other enemies,  
Do then betwixt themselves to composition fall,  
To countercheck that sword, else like to conquer all:  
So falls it with these Floods, that deadly hate do bear.  
And whilst on either part strong preparations were,  
It greatly was supposed strange strife would there have been,  
Had not the goodly Plain (placed equally between)  
Fore-warn'd them to desist, and off their purpose broke;  
When in behalf of Plains thus (gloriously) she spoke;  

a The Plain of Salisburies' speech in defence of all Plains.  Away ye barbarous Woods; How ever ye be placed  
On Mountains, or in Dales, or happily be graced  
With floods, or marshy 
* Boggy places. A word frequent in Lancashire.  fells, with pasture, or with earth  
By nature made to till, that by the yearly birth  
The large-bayed Barn doth fill, yea though the fruitfulst ground.  
For, in respect of Plains, what pleasure can be found  
In dark and sleepy shades? where mists and rotten fogs  
Hang in the gloomy thicks, and make unsteadfast bogs,  
By dropping from the boughs, the o're-growen trees among,  
With Caterpillars kells, and dusky cobwebs hung.  
The deadly Screech-owl sits, in gloomy covert hid:  
Whereas the smooth-browed Plain, as liberally doth bid  
The Lark to leave her Bower, and on her trembling wing  
In climbing up towards heaven, her high-pitcht Hymns to sing  
Unto the springing Day; when 'gainst the Suns arise  
The early Dawning strews the goodly Eastern skies  
With Roses every where: who scarcely lifts his head  
To view this upper world, but he his beams doth spread  
Upon the goodly Plains; yet at his Noonesteds height,  
Doth scarcely pierce the Brake with his farre-shooting sight.  
The gentle Shepherds here survey their gentler sheep:  
Amongst the bushy woods luxurious Satyrs keep.  
To these brave sports of field, who with desire is won,  
To see his Greyhound course, his Horse (in diet) run,  
His deep mouthed Hound to hunt, his long-wingd Haulk to fly,  
To these most noble sports his mind who doth apply,  
Resorts unto the Plains. And not a fought Field,  
Where Kingdoms rights have lain upon the spear and shield,  
But Plains have been the place; and all those Trophies hie  
That ancient times have reared to noble memory:  
As, Stonendge, that to tell the British Princes slain  
By those false Saxons fraud, here ever shall remain.  
It was upon the Plain of Mamre (to the fame  
Of me and all our kind) whereas the Angels came  
To Abraham in his Tent, and there with him did feed;  
To Sara his dear wife then promising the seed  
By whom all Nations should so highly honoured be,  
In which the Son of God they in the flesh should see.  
But Forests, to your plague there soon will come an Age,  
In which all damned sins most vehemently shall rage.  
An Age! what have I said! nay, Ages there shall rise,  
So senseless of the good of their posterities,  
That of your greatest Groves they scarce shall leave a tree  
(By which the harmless Deer may after sheltered be)  
Their luxury and pride but only to maintain,  
And for your long excess shall turn ye all to pain.  
Thus ending; though some h●ls themselves that do apply  
To please the goodly Plain, 
divers hills near & about Salisbury Plain.  still standing in her eye,  
Did much applaud her speech (as Haradon, whose head  
Old Ambry still doth awe, and Bagdon from his stead,  
Surveying of the vieth, whose like do allure  
Both Ouldbry and Saint Anne; and they again procure  
Mount Marting-sall: and he those hills that stand aloof,  
Those brothers Barbury, and Badbury, whose proof  
Adds much unto her praise) yet in most high disdain,  
The Forests take her words, and swear the prating Plain  
Grown old began to dote: and Sauernake so much  
Is galled with her taunts (whom they so nearly touch)  
That she in spiteful terms defies her to her face;  
And Aldburne with the rest, though being but a Chase,  
At worse than naught her sets: but Bradon all afloat  
When it was told to her, set open such a throat,  
That all the country rang. She calls her barren jade,  
Base Quean, and riv'ld Witch, and wished she could be made  
But worthy of her hate (which most of all her grieves)  
The basest beggars Bawd, a harborer of thieves.  
Then Peusham, and with her old Blackmore (not behind)  
Do wish that from the Seas some soultrie Southern wind,  
The foul infectious damps, and poisoned airs would sweep,  
And pour them on the Plain, to rot her and her Sheep.  
But whilst the sportive Muse delights her with these things,  
She strangely taken is with those delicious Springs  
Of Kenet rising here, and of the nobler Stream  
Of Isis setting forth upon her way to Tame,  
§. By Greeklade; whose great name yet vaunts that learned tongue,  
Where to great Britain first the sacred Muse's song;  
Which first were seated here, at Isis' bounteous 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 bridegroom, lovely Tame:  
Whose beauty when they saw, so much they did adore,  
That Greeklade they forsook, and would go back no more.  
Then Bradon gently brings forth Avon from her source:  
Which Southward making soon in her most quiet course,  
Receives the gentle Calne: when on her rising side,  
First Blackmoore crowns her bank, as Peusham with her pride  
Sets out her murmuring shoals, till (turning to the West)  
Her, Somerset receives, with all the bounties blest  
That Nature can produce in that Bathonian Spring,  
Which from the Sulphury Mines her med'cionll force doth bring;  
As Physic hath found out by colour, taste, and smell,  
Which taught the world at first the virtue of that Well;  
What quickliest it could cure: which men of knowledge drew  
From that first mineral cause: but some that little knew  
(Yet felt the great effects continually it wrought)  
§. Ascribed it to that skill, which Blod●d hither brought,  
As by that learned King the Baths should be begun;  
Not from the quickened Mine, by the begetting▪ Sun  
Giving that natural power, which by the vigorous sweat,  
Doth lend the lively Springs their perdurable heat  
In passing through the veins, where matter doth not need;  
Which in that minerous earth insep'rably doth breed:  
So nature hath purveyed, that during all her reign  
The Baths their native power for ever shall retain:  
Where Time that City built, which to her greater fame,  
Preserving of that Spring, participates her name;  
The Tutilage whereof (as those past worlds did please)  

Minerva and Hercules, the protectors of these fountains.  Some to Minerva gave and some to Hercules:  
Proud Phoebus' loved Spring, in whose Diurnal course,  
§. When on this point of earth he bends his greatest force,  
By his so strong approach, provokes her to desire;  
Stung with the kindly rage of loves impatient fire:  
Which boiling in her womb, projects (as to a birth)  
Such matter as she takes from the gross humorous earth;  
Till purged of dregss and slime, and her complexion clear,  
She smileth on the light, and looks with mirthful cheer.  
Then came the lusti● Froome, the first of floods that met  
Fair Avon entering in to fruitful Somerset,  
With her attending Brooks; and her to Bathe doth bring,  
Much honoured by that place, minerva's sacred Spring.  
To noble Avon, next, clear Chute as kindly came,  
To Bristol her to bear, the fairest seat of Fame:  
To entertain this flood, as great a mind that hath,  

The delicacies of Bristol.  And striving in that kind far to excel the Bath.  
As when some wealth Lord, prepares to entertain  
A man of high account, and feast his gallant train;  
Of him that did the like, doth seriously inquire  
His diet, his device, his service, his attire;  
That varying every thing (exampled by his store)  
He every way may pass what th'other did before:  
Even so this City doth; the prospect of which place  
To her fair building adds an admirable grace;  
Well fashioned as the best, and with a double wall,  
As brave as any Town; but yet excelling all  
For casement, that to health is requisite and meet;  
Her piled shores, to keep her delicate and sweet:  
Hereto, she hath her Tides; that when she is oppressed  
With heat or drought, still pour their floods upon her breast.  
To Mendip then the Muse upon the South inclines,  
Which is the only store, and Coffer of her Mines:  
Elsewhere the Fields and Meads their sundry traffics suit:  
The Forests yield her wood, the Orchards give her fruit.  
As in some rich man's house his several charges lie,  
There stands his Wardrobe, here remains his Treasury;  
His large provision there, of Fish, of Fowl, and Neat;  
His Cellars for his Wines, his Larders for his meat;  
There Banquet houses, Walks for pleasure; here again  
Cribs, Graners, Stables, Barns, the other to maintain:  
So this rich country hath, itself what may suffice;  
Or that which through exchange a smaller want supplies:  
Yet Ochyes dreadful Hole still held herself disgraced,  
§. With 
* A catalogue of many wonders of this Land.  th'wonders of this I'll that she should not be placed:  
But that which vexed her most, was, that the 
a The devils art.  Peakish Cave  
Before her darksome self such dignity should have;  
And 
b The Salt Wells in Chesshire.  th' Wyches for their Salts such state on them should take;  
Or Cheshire should prefer her sad 
c Bruertons pond.  Death-boding-lake;  
And Stonendge in the world should get so high respect,  
Which imitating Art but idly did erect:  
And that amongst the rest, the vain inconstant 
d A river by Westchester.  Dee,  
By changing of his Foards, for one should reckoned be;  
As of another sort, wood turned to 
e By sundry soils of Britain.  stone; among,  
Th'anatomized 
f Our Pikes, ripped and sowed up, liu●.  Fish, and Fowls from 
g Barnacles a bird breeding upon old ships.  planchers sprung:  
And on the Cambrian side those strange and wondrous 
h Wondrous Springs in Wales.  Springs,  
Our 
i Sheep.  beasts that seldom drink; a thousand other things  
Which Ochy inly vexed, that they to fame should mount,  
And greatly grieved her friends for her so small account;  
That there was scarcely Rock, or River, Marsh, or mear  
That held not Ochyes wrongs (for all held Ochy dear)  
§ In great and high disdain: and Froome for her disgrace  
Since scarcely ever washed the Colesleck from her face;  
But (melancholy grown) to Avon gets a path,  
Through sickeness forced to seek for cure unto the Bath:  
§. And Chedder for mere grief his teen he could not wreak,  
Gushed forth so forceful streams, that he was like to brea●●  
The greater banks of Axe, as from his mother's Cave,  
He wandered towards the Sea; for madness who doth rave  
At his dread mother's wrong: but who so wo begon  
For Ochy, as the I'll of ancient Aualon?  
Who having in herself, as inward cause of grief,  
Neglecteth yet her own, to give her friend relief.  
The other so again for her doth sorrow make,  
And in the Isle's behalf the dreadful cavern spoke;  
O three times famous I'll, where is that place that might  
Be with thyself compared for glory and delight,  
Whilst Glastenbury stood? exalted to that pride,  
Whose Monastery seemed all other to deride?  
O who thy ruin sees, whom wonder doth not fill  
With our great father's pomp, devotion, and their skill?  
Thou more than mortal power (this judgement rightly weighed)  
Then present to assist, at that foundation laid;  
On whom for this sad waste, should justice lay the crime?  
Is there a power in Fate, or doth it yield to Time?  
Or was their error such, that thou couldst not protect  
Those buildings which thy hand did with their zeal erect?  
To whom didst thou commit that monument, to keep,  
That suffereth with the dead their memory to sleep?  
§. When not great Arthur's Tomb, not holy 
a joseph of Arimathea.  joseph's Grave,  
From sacrilege had power their sacred bones to save;  
He who that God in man to his sepulchre brought,  
Or he which for the faith twelve famous battles fought.  
What? Did so many Kings do honour to that place,  
For Avarice at last so vilely to deface?  
For reverence, to that seat which hath ascribed been,  

b The wondrous tree at Glastenbury.  Trees yet in winter bloom, and bear their Summer's green.  
This said, she many a sigh from her full stomach cast,  
Which issued through her breast in many a boisterous blast;  
And with such floods of tears her sorrows doth condole,  
As into rivers turn within that darksome hole:  
Like sorrow for herself, this goodly I'll doth try;  
§. Embraced by Selwoods' son, her flood the lovely Bry,  
On whom the Fates bestowed (when he conceived was)  
He should be much beloved of many a dainty Lass;  
Who gives all leave to like, yet of them liketh none:  
But his affection sets on beauteous Aualon;  

Fruitful Moors on the banks of Bry.  Though many a plump-thighed moor, & ful-flancked marsh do prove  
To force his chaste desires, so dainty of his love.  
First Sedgemore shows this flood, her bosom all unbraced,  
And casts her wanton arms about his slender waist:  
Her lover to obtain, so amorous Audery seeks:  
And Gedney softly steals sweet kisses from his cheeks.  
One takes him by the hand, entreating him to stay:  
Another plucks him back, when he would feign away:  
But, having caught at, length, whom long he did pursue,  
Is so entranced with love, her goodly parts to view,  
That altering quite his shape, to her he doth appear,  
And casts his crystal self into an ample mear:  
But for his greater growth when needs he must depart,  
And forced to leave his Love (though with a heavy heart)  
As he his back doth turn, and is departing out,  
The battening marshy Brent environs him about:  
But loathing her embrace, away in haste he flings,  
And in the Severne Sea surrounds his plenteous Springs.  
But, dallying in this place so long why dost thou dwell,  
So many sundry things here having yet to tell?  
Occasion calls the Muse her pinions to prepare.  
Which (striking with the wind the vast and open air)  
Now, in the finny Heaths, then in the Champains roves;  
Now, measures out this Plain; and then surveys those groves;  
The batfull pastures fenced, and most with quickset mound,  
The sundry sorts of soil, diversity of ground;  
Where Ploughmen cleanse the Earth of rubbish, weed, and filth,  
And give the fallow lands their seasons and their tilth:  
Where, best for breeding horse; where cattle fitst to keep;  
Which good for bearing Corn; which pasturing for sheep:  
The lean and hungry earth, the fat and marly mould,  
Where sands be always hot, and where the clays be cold;  
With plenty where they waste, some others touched with want:  
here set, and there they sow; here prune, and there they plant.  
As Wiltshire is a place best pleased with that resort  
Which spend away the time continually in sport;  
So Somerset, herself to profit doth apply,  
As given all to gain, and thriving huswifrie.  
For, whereas in a Land one doth consume and waste,  
'tis fit another be to gather in as fast:  
This liketh moorie plots, delights in sedgy Bowers,  
The grassy garlands loves, and oft attired with flowers  
Of rank and mellow glebe; a sward as soft as wool,  
With her complexion strong, a belly plump and full.  
Thus whilst the active Muse strains out these various things,  
Clear Parrot makes approach, with all those plenteous Springs  
Her fruitful banks that bless; by whose Monarchal sway,  
She fortifies herself against that mighty day  
Wherein her utmost power she should be forced to try.  
For, from the Druids time there was a prophecy,  
That there should come a day (which now was near at hand  
By all forerunning signs) that on the Eastern Strand,  
If 
* A supposed prophecy upon Parrot.  Parrot stood not fast upon the English side,  
They all should be suppressed: and by the British pride  
In cunning overcome; for why, impartial Fate  
(Yet constant always to the Britain's crazed state)  
Forbade they yet should fall; by whom she meant to show  
How much the present Age, and aftertimes should own  
Unto the line of Brute. Clear Parrot therefore priest  
Her tributary Streams, and wholly her addressed  
Against the ancient Foe: First, calling to her aid  
Two Rivers of 
* Ivel: from which, the town Ivel is denominated.  one name; which seem as though they stayed  
Their Empress as she went, her either hand that take.  
The first upon the right, as from her source, doth make  
Large Muchelney an Isle, and unto Ivell lends  
Her hardlie-rendred name: That on her left, descends  
From Neroch's neighbouring woods; which, of that Forest borne,  
Her rivals proffered grace opprobriously doth scorn.  
She by her wandering course doth Athelney in-Ile:  
And for the greater state, herself she doth enstyle  
§. The nearest neighbouring flood to Arthur's ancient seat,  
Which made the Britain's name through all the world so great.  
Like Camelot, what place, was ever yet renowned?  
Where, as at Carlion, oft, he kept the Table-round,  
Most famous for the sports at Pentecost so long,  
From whence all Knightly deeds, and brave achievements sprung.  
As some soft-sliding Rill, which from a lesser head  
(Yet in his going forth, by many a Fountain fed)  
Extends itself at length unto a goodly stream:  
So, almost through the world his fame flew from this Realm;  
That justly I may charge those ancient Bards of wrong,  
So idly to neglect his glory in their Song.  
For some abundant brain, o there had been a story  
Beyond the 
* Homer.  Blindman's might to have enhanced our glory.  
Towards the Sabrinian Sea then Parrot setting on,  
To her attendance next comes in the beauteous Tone,  
Crowned with embroidered banks, and gorgeously arrayed  
With all th'enameled flowers of many a goodly Mead:  
In Orchards richly clad; whose proud aspiring boughs  
Even of the tallest woods do scorn a jot to lose,  
Though Selwood's mighty self and Neroch standing by:  
The sweetness of her soil through every Coast doth fly.  
What ear so empty is, that hath not heard the sound  
Of Tauntons' fruitful 
a One of the fruitful places of this Land.  Deane? not matched by any ground;  
By 
b Interpreted the noble I'll.  Athelney adored, a neighbourer to her Land;  
Whereas those higher hills to view fair Tone that stand,  
Her coadiuting Springs with much content behold:  
Where Seaward Quantock stands as Neptune he controlled,  
And Blackdown Inland borne, a Mountain and a Mound,  
As though he stood to look about the Country round:  
But Parrot as a Prince, attended here the while,  
Enriched with every Moor, and every Inland I'll,  
Upon her taketh State, well forward towards her fall▪  
Whom lastly yet to grace, and not the least of all,  
Comes in the lively Car, a Nymph, most lovely clear,  
From Somerton sent down the Sovereign of the Shear;  
Which makes our Parrot proud. And wallowing in excess,  
Whilst like a Prince she vaunts amid the watery press,  
The breathless Muse awhile her wearied wings shall ease,  
To get her strength to stem the rough Sabrinian Seas.  

Illustrations.  
DIscontinuing her first course, the Muse returns to Somerset and Wiltshire, which lie twixt the Severne and Hantshire; as the Song here joins them: 
From Sarum thus we set, removed from whence it stood.   
Old Salisbury seated North-east from the now famous Salisbury, some mile distant, about Richard Ceur de Lions time had her name and inhabitants, hither translated, upon the meeting of Auon and Aderborn; where not long after she enjoyed, among other, that glorious title of admiration for her sumptuous Church-buildings. Of that, one of my Authors thus: 
— in the year of grace 
Rob. Glocestrens.   
twelve hundred and to and twenti in the vaire place  
Of the noble Munstre of Salesburi hill leide the verste stone  
That me not in Christindom vairore work non.  
There was 〈◊〉 the Legate, and as heyt of echon,  
He leide vine the verste stone: as for the Pope put on,  
The other for ure 
* Hen. III.  young King, the third as me say  
Uor the good Earl of Salisburi William 
* Wilhelm. de longa spatha.  the Longespei,  
The verth for the countess, the vi●te he leide though  
Uor the 
* Richard Poor.  Bishop of Salesburi, and he ne leide na more.  This work than began, was by Robert of Bingham, next succeeding Bishop to that excellency, prosecuted.  
Hath worthily obtained that Stonehenge there should stand.  
Upon Salisbury plain stones of huge weight and greatness, some in the earth pitched, and in form erected, as it were circular; others lying cross over them, as if their own poise did no less than their supporters give them that proper place have this name of stonehenge; 
But so confused that neither any eye  
Can count them just, nor reason reason try,  
What force brought them to so unlikely ground.  As the noble 
a In his Sonnets.  Sidney of them.  
No man knows, saith 
b Histor lib. 1.  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 story: Hengist under colour of a friendly treaty with Vortigern at Amesbury, his falsehoods watch word to his Saxons (provided there privily with long knives) being 
* ● Take your swords.  Nime 〈…〉 ix noble Britons, and kept the King prisoner. Some xx●. years after K. Ambros (to honour with one monument the name of so many murdered, Worthies) by help of Vter-pen-dragons forces and Merlin's magic, got them transported from off a plain (others say a hill) near 
Girald. Cambrensis Topograph. Hib. dist. 2. cap. 18. Chorea gigantum.  Naas in Kildare in Ireland, hither, to remain as a trophy, not of victory, not of wronged innocency. This Merlin persuaded the King that they were medicinal; and first brought out of the utmost parts of Afri●us by ●●ants which thence came to inhabit Ireland. 
* Not one of the stones but is good for somewhat in Physic.  No● est ibi lapis qui 〈…〉 caret, as 〈◊〉 Merlin's person▪ Geffrey of Monmouth speaks; whose authority in this treacherous slaughter of the Britons, I respect not so much as Nennius, Malmesbury, Sigebert, Matthew of Westminster, and others, who report it as I deliver. Whether they be naturally solid or with cement artificially composed, I will not dispute. Although the last be of easier credit; yet I would, with our late Historian White, believe the first sooner, than that Ulysses' ship was by Neptune turned into one stone, as it is in the Odyssees, and that the Egyptian King Amasis had a house cut out in one marble (which, by Heredotus description, could not after the workmanship have less content than M. M.CCC.XCIV. solid cubits, if my Geometry false me not) or that which the jews 
d Apud Munster. ad Deuter. 3. If among them there be a Whetstone, let the jew have it.  are not ashamed to affirm of a stone, with which K. Og at one throw from his head purposed to have crushed all the Israelites▪ had not a Lapwing strangely peck● such a hole through it, that it fell on his shoulders, and by miracle his upper-teeth suddenly extended, kept it there fall from motion. It is possible they may be of some such earthy dust as that of Puzzole and by Ae●na, which cast into the water turns stony, as Pliny after Strabo of them and other like remembers. 
e Powel▪ add lib. 2. cap. 9 Girald. itenerarij.  And for certain I find it reported, that in Cairnaruan upon Snowdon hills is a stone (which miraculously somewhat more then LX. years since, raised itself out of a lake at the hill foot) equalling a large house in greatness, and supposed not movable by 〈◊〉 yoke of Oxen. For the form of bringing them, your opinion may take freedom. That great one which Hercules 
f Aristot. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  is wondered at for the carriage was but 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  a Cartload, which he left for a monument in Otranto of Italy: and except Geffrey of Monmouth, with some which follow him, scarce any affirm or speak of it▪ nor Na●●ius, nor Malmesbury; the first living somewhat near the supposed time.  
Betwixt the Mercian rule, and the Westsaxons reign.  
So thinks our Antiquary and Light of this Kingdom; that, to be a limit of those two ancient states, sometime divided by Auon, which falls into Severne, Wansdike crossing the shire Westward over the plain was first call up Wodensdike, the old name is supposed from Woden; of no less (if not greater) esteem to the Saxons, than Arsaces, P●lops, Cadmus, and other such to their posterity; but so, that, I guess it went but for their greatest God Mercury (he is called rather Wonden from Winifrid; that is, gain by 
* Ad Germ. Tacit. Woden or Wonden.  Lipsius) as the Germane and English antiquities discover. And very likely, when this limit was made, that in honour of him, being by name precedent of ways, and by his office of Heraldship Pacifex i. Peacemaker, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Sau. Mercury. Adam Bremens'. cap. 5. & Hence Irmingstrea●.  as an old stamp titles him, they called it Wodansdike; as not only the Greeks, had their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (statues erected) for limits and direction of ways, 
g Pausan sapius & Theocrit. 〈◊〉.  and the Latines their Terminus, but the ancient jews also, as upon interpretation of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 
h Proverb. 26. v. 8.  in the Proverbs i. into an heap of Mercury (in the vulgar) for a heap of stones in that sense, Goropius in his hieroglyphiques affirms, somewhat boldly deriving Mercury from Mere, which signifies a limit in his and our tongue, and so fits this place in name and nature. Stonh●nge and it not improperly contend, being several works of two several nations anciently hateful to each other; Britons and Saxons.  
To hear two crystal floods to court her, which apply  
Willibourne (by the old name the Author calls her Willy) derived from near S●lwood by Warm●ster, with her creeky passage, crossing to Wilton, naming both that town and the shire, and on the other side Auon taking her course out of Sauer●●● by Marlsborow through the shire Southward, washing Ambresbury and the Salisburies' (new Salisbury being her Episcopal city) both watering the plain, and furnished with these reasons, are fitly thus personated, striving to endear themselves in her love: & prosecuting this fiction, the Muse thus adds; 
How that Bathe's Auon waxed imperious through her fame.   
divers rivers of that name have we; but two of eminent note in Wiltshire: one is next before show'd you, which falls through Dorcet into the Ocean; the other here mentioned hath her head in the edge of Gloucester: and with her snaky course, visiting Malmesbury, Chippenham, Bradford, and divers towns of slight note, turns into Somerset, passes Bath, and casts herself into Severne at Bristol. This compendious contention (whose proportionat example is a special elegancy for the expressing of diversity▪ as in the Pastorals of Theocritus and Virgil) is aptly concluded with that point of ancient politic 
a In Thucydid. & Li●.  observation, that Outward common fear is the surest band of friendship.  
To Greeklade whose great name 〈…〉 that learned tongue.  
The History of Oxford in the Proctor's book, and certain old verses, 
b L●land, ad cyg. cant. in Iside.  kept somewhere in this tract, affirm, that with Brute came hither certain Greek Philosophers, from whose name and profession here it was thus called, and as an University afterward translated in Oxford (upon like notation a company of Physicians retiring to 
* i. The physicians lake.  Lechlade in this shire, gave that its title, as I. Rous adds in his story to Hen. VII.) But Godwine and a very old Anonymus, cited by Br. Twine, refer it to Theodore of Tarsus in Cilicia (made Archbishop of Canterbury by P. Vitalian under Eegbert King of Kent) very skilful in both tongues, and an extraordinary restorer of learning to the English-Saxons; That he had (among other) Greek schools, is certain by Bedes affirmation that some of his scholars understood both Greek and Latin as their mother language. Richard of the vieth 
c Apud Cai de antiq. Cantabrig. ●ib. 2. & Cod. Ni●●antabr. apud aut. assert. antiq. Oxon.  will that Penda K. of M●●cland, first deduced a colony of Cambridge men hither and calls it 〈…〉 with variety of names: but I suspect all; as well for omission 〈…〉 best authorities, as also that the name is so different in itself. 〈◊〉 was never honoured with Greek schools, as the ignorant multitude think saith 
d Ad Cyg. Cant. in Iside & Isid. vad. Curuus Graecus sermo Britanicus Gaifred. Monumeth. lib. 1.  Leland, affirming it should be rather Creclade, Lechelade, or Lath●●ar. Nor we thinks (of 〈◊〉) stands it with the British story, making the tongue then a kind of Greek a matter, that way reasonable enough, seeing it is questionless that colonies anciently derived 〈…〉, and those continents into the 〈…〉 the Greek with them) that profession of Grecians should make this so particular a name.  
Ascribed 〈…〉  
〈…〉 is that, which is 〈…〉 the author's opinion, which hath warrant enough in others) or agitation of wind, as some will; but either passage through metallique, bituminous, and sulphurous veins, or rather a real subterranean fire, as 
e Senec. Natural, quaest. lib. 3. cap. 24.  Empedocles first thought, and with most witty arguments (according to the Poetical conceit of Typhon 
f Pynder. Pyth. ●. , buried in Prochyta; whereto Strabo refers the best Baths in Italy) my learned and kind friend M ●. Lydiat, that accurate Chronologer, in his ingenious Philosophy, hath lately disputed. But, as the Author tells you, some British vanity imputes it to Bladuds art, which in a very ancient fragment 
g Ex antiq. sched.  of rhymes I found exprest● and if you can endure the language and fiction you may read it, and then laugh at it. 
Two tun there beth of bras,  
And other two imaked of glass  
●●eue seats there huth inn  
And other thing imaked with gin:  
Quick brimstone in them also,  
With wild fire imaked thereto:  
Sal gemmae and sal pet●ae,  
Sal armonak there is eke  
Shall albrod and sal alkine  
Sal Gemmae is minged with him,  
Sal Coming and shall almetre bright  
That borneth both day and night,  
All this is in the to●n● ido  
And other things many more,  
And borneth both night and day  
That never quench it ne way  
In but wellsprings the loothes 〈◊〉  
As the Philosophers us ●iggeth 
Sea the Author's 8. Song.   
The 〈◊〉 within, the water without,  
〈◊〉 it ho● all above  
The 〈…〉 earneth more  
And the other two hath 〈◊〉 t●re.  
There is 〈◊〉 ●all 〈◊〉  
That Kings hath ●ripped is.  
The rich King Bladud  
The King's son Lud  
And when he maked that hath 〈◊〉  
And if him failed aught  
Of that that should thereto,  
hearkeneth what he would do  
From Bath to London he would 〈◊〉  
And th●●ke day set 〈◊〉 be  
And ●eteh that 〈◊〉,  
He was quick, and swith sell  
Th● the master was 〈◊〉  
And is soul wend to the Qu●●  
For go●ne was not ●o● poor  
Not 〈…〉.  I will as soon believe all this as 〈◊〉. 
h 〈◊〉. cent. 1.  Deui or julius Caesar (〈…〉 near it) was author of it, on that he made Knights of the Bathal. They la●● no● wanting which have durst say so.  
When on this 〈◊〉 of earth ne 〈◊〉 his 〈◊〉 test 〈◊〉.  
From eight in the morning till three ' within which time the 〈◊〉 make their strongest angles of incidence) it ●ur 〈…〉 clean excrements, nor then doth any enter it; which the Muse here expresses in a fervent sympathy of love twixt the Water and the Sun, and the more properly because it had the name of 
a Antony's ●●nus in Itinerario.  
* Waters of the Sun.  Aquae Solis.  
With th' wonders of the I'll that she should not be placed.  

* Or. Ochy  Wockey hole (so called in my conceit, from poc● 
b Beat. Rh●nan. lib. 2. ver. Germany. , which is the same with pic, signifying a hollow or creekie passage) in Mendip hills by Welles, for her spacious vaults, stony walls, creeping Labyrinths, unimaginable cause of posture in the earth and hi● neighbour's report (all which almost equal her to that Grotta de la 
c Ortelius theat mundi. The wonders of England.  Sibylla in the Apenin of Marca Anconitano, and the Dutch song of little Daniel) might well wonder she had not place among her country wonders. One that seems to increase Samuel Beaulan upon Nennius, reckons XIII. by that name, but with vain and false reports (as that of the B●●h to be both hot and cold, according to the desire of him that washes) and in some the Author of Polychronicon follows him; neither speaking of this. But the last, and Henry of Huntingdon reckon only four remarkable; the Peake, Stonhenge. Chederhole, and a hill out of which it rains. That wonder of human excellence, Sir Philip Sidney, to fit his Sonnet, makes six; and to fit that number conceitedly adds a froward, but chaste, Lady for the seventh. And the Author heretels you the chiefest.  
— that Froome for her disgrace,  
Since scarcely ever washed the Colesleck from her face.  
Out of Mendip hills Froome springeth, and through the Coalpits after a short course Eastward turns upward to Baths Avon. The fiction of her besinea●'d face happens the better, in that Froome, after our old mother language, signifies fair, as that paradoxal Becanus 
d Hermathen. lib. 5. , in exposition of the Egyptian Pyromis in Herodotus, 
e Euterpe.  would by notation teach us.  
And Chedder for mere grief his teen he could not wreak.  
near Axbridge, Chedder cliffs, rockey and vauted, by continual distilling, is the fountain of a forcible stream (driving XII. M●'s within a miles quarter of its head) which runs into Axe derived out of Wocker.  
When not great Arthur's Tomb, nor holy joseph's Grave  
Henry the second in his expedition towards Ireland entertained by the way in Wales with Bardish songs, wherein he heard it affirmed that in Glastenbury (made almost an I'll by the rivers embracements) Arthur was buried twixt two pillars, gave commandment to Henry of Blois then Abbot, to make search for the corpse: which was found in a wooden coffin (Girald saith O●●n, Leland thinks Alder) some sixteen foot deep; but after they had digged nine foot, they 
f Chronicon. Glasconiens.  found a stone on whose lower side was fixed a leaden cross (Crosses fixed upon the Tombs of old Christians were in all places ordinary) with his name inscribed, and the letter side of it turned to the stone. He was then honoured with a sumptuous monument, and afterward the skulls of him and his wife Guinever were taken out (to remain as separat relics and spectacles) by Edward Longshanks and Elinor. Of this, Girald, Leland, Prise, divers others (although Polydore make slight of it) have more copious testimony. The Bards Songs suppose, that after the battle of Camlan in Cornwall, where traitorous Mordred was slain, and Arthur wounded, Morgan le Fay a great Elfin Lady (supposed his near kinswoman) conveyed the body hither to cure it: which done, Arthur is to return (yet expected) to the rule of his country. Read these attributed to the 
a Talies●in. ap. Pris. desens. hist. Brit.  best of the Bards, expressing as much: 
— Morgan suscepit honore,  
Inque suis thalamis posuit super aurea regem▪  
Fulcra, manuque sibi detexit vulnus honestâ  
Inspexitque diù: tandemque redire salutem  
Posse sibi dixit, si secum tempore long  
Esset, & ipsius vellet medicamine fungi.   
englished in meeter for me thus by the Author: 
— Morgan with honour took,  
And in a chair of State doth cause him to repose;  
Then with a modest hand his wounds she doth unclose:  
And having searched them well, she bade him not to doubt,  
He should in time be cured, if he would stay it out,  
And would the medicine take that she to him would give.   
The same also in effect, an excellent 
b Dan Lidgat. lib. 8. verse. Boccat. cap. 24. Nania● ad has resert Alanus de Insulis illud Merlini vaticinium. Exit● cius dubius erit.  Poet of his time thus singing it.  
He is a King crowned in Fairy,  
With Sceptre and sword and with his regally  
Shall resort as Lord and Sovereign  
Out of Fairy and reign in Britain:  
And repair again the Round Table  
By prophecy Merlin set the date,  
Among Prince's King incomparable  
His seat again to Carlion to translate  
The Parchas sustrens spun to his fate  
His 
* Hic lacet Arthurus rex quondam Rexque futurus.  Epitaph recordeth to certain  
Here lieth K. Arthur that shall reign again.  
Worthily famous was the Abbey also from joseph of Arimathia (that, 
* Noble Counsellor. First Christianity in Britain: but see the VIII. Song.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as S. Mark calls him) here buried, which gives proof of Christianity in the I'll before our Lucius. Hence in a Charter of liberties by Hen. II. to the Abbey (made in presence of Heraclius Patriarch of jerusalem, and others) I read, 
* It was called the mother and tomb of the Saints. A Hawthorne blossoming in Winter.  Olim à quibusdam matter sanctorum dicta est, ab aliis tumulus sanctorum, quam ab ipsis discipulis Domini edificatans & ab ipso Domino dedicatam primò fuisse venerabilis habet antiquorum authoritas. It goes for currant truth that a Hawthorne thereby on Christmas day always blossometh: which the Author tells you in that, Trees yet in winter etc. You may cast this into the account of your greatest wonders.  
Embraced by Selwoods' son her flood the lovely Bry.  
Selwood send● forth Bry, which after a winding course from Bruton, (so called of the River) through part of Sedgemore, and Andremore, comes to Glastenbury, & almost inisles it; thence to Gedney Moor, & out of Brent marsh into Severne.  
The nearest neighbouring floods to Arthur's ancient seat.  
By South Cadbury is that Camelot▪ a hill of a mile compass at the top, four trenches circling it, and twixt every of them an earthen wall; the content of it, within, about xx. acres, full of ruins and relics of old buildings. Among Roman coins there found, and other works of antiquity, Stow speaks of a silver Horseshow there digged up in the memory of our fathers: 
* The workmanship of the Ditches, Walls, and strange steepness of them, makes it seem a wonder of Art and Nature.  Dij boni (saith Leland) quot hîc profundissimarum fossarum? quot hî egestae terrae valla? quae demùm pracipitia? atque ut paucis finiam, videtur mihiquidem esse & Atis & Naturae miraculum. antic report makes this one of Arthur's places of his Round Table, as the Muse here sings. But of this more in the next Canto.    

  

The fourth Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
England and Wales strive, in this Song,  
To whether, Lundy doth belong:  
When either's Nymphs, to clear the doubt,  
By Music mean to try it out.  
Of mighty Neptune leave they ask:  
Each one betakes her to her task;  
The Britain's, with the Harp and Crowd:  
The English, both with still and loud.  
The Britain's chant King Arthur's glory▪  
The English sing their Saxons story.  
The Hills of Wales their weapons take,  
And are an uproar like to make,  
To keep the English part in awe.  
There's heave, and shove, and hold, and draw;  
That Severne can them scarce divide,  
Till judgement may the Cause decide.  
THis while in Sabrin's Court strong factions strangely grew,  
Since Cornwall for her own, and as her proper due,  
Claimed Lundy, which was said to Cambria to belong,  
Who oft had sought redress for that her ancient wrong:  
But her inveterate Foe, borne-out by England's might,  
O're-swaies her weaker power; that (now in either's right)  
As Severne finds no Flood so great, nor poorly mean,  
But that the natural Spring (her force which doth maintain)  

a From England or Wales.  From this or that she takes; so from this Faction free  
(Begun about this Isle) not one was like to be.  
This Lundy is a Nymph to idle toys inclined;  
And, all on pleasure set, doth wholly give her mind  
To see upon her shores her Fowl and Coneys fed,  
§. And wantonly to hatch the Birds of Ganymede.  
Of traffic or return she never taketh care:  
Not provident of pelf, as many islands are:  
A lusty black-browed Girl, with forehead broad and high,  
That often had bewitched the Sea-gods with her eye.  
Of all the In-laid Isles her Sovereign Severne keeps,  
That bathe their amorous breasts within her secret Deeps  
(To love her 
a Certain little Isles lying within Severne.  Barry much and Silly though she seem,  
The Flat Holme and the Steep as likewise to esteem)  
This noblest British 
* Severne.  Nymph yet likes her Lundy best,  
And to great Neptune's grace prefers before the rest.  
Thus, 
b Wales.  Cambria to her right that would herself restore,  
And rather than to lose 
c England.  Loëgria, looks for more;  
The Nymphs of either part, whom passion doth invade,  
To trial strait will go, though Neptune should dissuade:  
But of the weaker sex, the most part full of spleen,  
And only wanting strength to wreak their angry teen,  
For skill their challenge make, which every one professed,  
And in the learned Arts (of knowledges the best,  
And to th'heroic spirit most pleasing under sky)  
Sweet Music, rightly matched with heavenly Poesy,  
In which they all exceed: and in this kind alone  
They Conquerors vow to be, or lastly overthrown.  
Which when fair Sabrine saw (as she is wondrous wise)  
And that it were in vain them better to advice,  
Sith this contention sprang from Countries like allied,  
That she would not be found t'incline to either side,  
To mighty Neptune sues to have his free consent  
Due trial they might make: When he incontinent  
His Tritons sendeth out the challenge to proclaim.  
No sooner that divulged in his so dreadful name,  
But such a shout was sent from every neighbouring Spring,  
That the report was heard through all his Court to ring:  
And from the largest Stream unto the lesser Brook,  
Them to this wondrous task they seriously betook:  
They curl their Ivory fronts, and not the smallest Beck  
But with white Pebbles makes her Tawdries for her neck;  
Lay forth their amorous breasts unto the public view,  
Enamiling the white, with veins that were as blue;  
Each Moor, each Marsh, each Mead, preparing rich array  
To set their Rivers forth against this general day.  
'mongst Forests, Hills, and Floods, was ne'er such heave and shove  
Since 
d Albion, Neptune's son, warred with Hercules.  Albion weelded Arms against the son of jove.  
When as the English part their courage to declare,  
Them to th'appointed place immediately prepare.  
A troop of stately Nymphs proud Avon with her brings  
(As she that hath the charge of wise 
e The Baths. All these Rivers you may see in the third Song.  Minerva's Springs)  
From Mendip tripping down, about the tinny Mine.  
And Axe, no less employed about this great design,  
Leads forth a lusty Rout, when Bry, with all her throng  
(With very madness swollen that she had staid so long)  
Comes from the boggy Meres and queachy fens below:  
That Parrot (highly pleased to see the gallant show)  
Set out with such a train as bone so great a sway,  
The soil but scarcely serves to give her hugeness way.  
Then the Devonian T●we, from Dertmore decked with pearl,  
Unto the conflict come●; with her that gallant Girl  
§. Clear Towridge, whom they feared would have estranged her fall:  
Whose coming, lastly, bred such courage in them all,  
As drew down many a Nymph from the Cornubian shore,  
That paint their goodly breasts with sundry sorts of Ore.  
The British, that this while had stood a view to take  
What to her utmost power the public Foe could make,  
But slightly weigh their strength: for, by her natural kind,  
As still the Britain hears a brave and noble mind;  
So, trusting to their skill, and goodness of their Cause,  
For speedy Trial call, and for indifferent Laws▪  
At length, by both allowed, it to this issue grew;  
To make a likely choice of some most expert crew,  
Whose number coming near unto the others dower,  
The English should not urge they were o'erborne by power.  
§. Yet hardly upon Pows● they dare their hopes to lay,  
For that she hath commerce with England every day:  
§. Nor Rosse; for that too much 〈◊〉 Aliens doth respect;  
And following them, foregoes her ancient Dialect;  
The 
a Floods of North-wales.  Venedotian Floods, that ancient Britan's were,  
The Mountains kept them back, and shut them in the Rear:  
But Brecknock, long time known a Country of much worth,  
Unto this conflict brings her goodly Fountains forth:  
For almost not a Brook of 
b Glamorgan & M●mouthshires.  Morga●● nor Gwent,  
But from her fruitful womb do f●●ch their high descent.  
For Brecan, was a Prince once fortunate and great  
(Who dying, lent his name to that his nobler seat)  
With 
* A supposed metamorphosis of Bretans daughters.  twice twel●e daughters blest, by one and only wife:  
Who for their beauties rare, and sanctive of life,  
To rivers war● transformed; whose pureness doth declare  
How excellent they were, by being what they are:  
Who dying virgins all, and Rivers now by Ea●●,  
To tell their former love to the unmarried state,  
To Severne ships this course o● which now their form doth bear;  
E'er she was made a flood, a virgin as they were.  
And from the Irish seas with fear they still do fli●●  
So much they yet delight in maiden companie●  
Then most renowned Wales thou famous ancient place,  
Which still hast been the Nurse of all the British●ace ●ace,  
Since Nature thee den●es that purple-clustered Vine,  
Which others Temples chafes with fragrant sparkling Wine;  
And being now in hand, to write thy glorious praise;  
Fill me a bowl of Meath, my working spirit to raise:  
And ere seven Books have end, I'll strike so high a string,  
Thy Bards shall stand amazed with wonder, whilst I sing;  
§. That Taliessen, once which made the rivers dance,  
And in his rapture razed the Mountains from their trance,  
Shall tremble at my Verse, rebounding from the skies;  
Which like an earthquake shakes the Tomb wherein he lies.  
First our triumphing Muse of sprightly uske shall tell,  
And what to every Nymph attending her, befell:  
Which Cray and Camlas first for Pages doth retenne;  
With whom the next in place comes in the tripping Breane,  
With Isker; and with her comes Hodny fine and clear,  
Of Brecknock best beloved, the Sovereign of the Shear:  
And Grony, at an inch, waits on her Mistress heels.  
But entering (at the last) the Monumethian fields,  
Small Fidan, with Cledaugh, increase her goodly M●nie,  
Short Kebby, and the Brook that christneth Abergeny.  
With all her wa●ry ●●●ine, when now at las● she came  
Unto that happy Town which bears her 
* Mo●mouth.  only name,  
Bright Birthin, with her friend fair ●h●y, kindly meet her▪  
Which for her present haste 〈◊〉 scarcely time to greet her:  
But earnest on her way, she needsly will be gone;  
So much she longs to ●ee the ancient Carl●●n.  
When Avon cometh in then which amongst them all  
A finer is not found betwixt her head and fall.  
Then Eb●ith, and with her slides S●owy; which forelay  
Her progress; and for ●ike keep entrance to the Sea.  
When Munno, all this while the●● (for her own behoof)  
From this their great recourse had strangely stood aloof,  
Made proud by Monmouths' name appointed her by Fate,  
Of all the rest herein observed special st●r●.  
For once the Bard● foretold she should produce a 
a Henry the fifth styled of Monmouth.  King,  
Which everlasting praise to his 〈…〉 should bring,  
Who by his conquering sword should all the land ●●rprise,  
Which twixt the 
b A maritime hill in Caernarnan Shire.  〈◊〉 and the 〈…〉  
She therefore is allowed 〈…〉 by he●▪  
They win the goodly 〈…〉 home strongly she doth stir  
Her powerful help 〈…〉 which 〈…〉 had de●ide,  
Because herself so 〈◊〉 England 〈…〉  
But b●ing by Munn● 〈…〉 she goe●.  
Which when as Thr●ggy 〈◊〉 she she 〈…〉 throws  
Into the wa●ry throng, with many 〈…〉  
Repairing to the Welsh, their number up to ●●ll.  
That Remny when 〈…〉 Nymphet of Gw●●●▪  
On this appointed match, were 〈…〉  
Where she of ancient time had 〈…〉  
The Monumethian 〈…〉  
Entreats the Taffe along 〈…〉  
With whom clear Cun●● 〈…〉 Camb●●●● Lass:  
Then 〈…〉 with 〈…〉 hold● 〈◊〉 way,  
And Ogmore, that would yet 〈…〉 soon as they,  
By Avon called 〈◊〉 when 〈…〉 anon  
(To all the neighbouring Nymp●● fo● her r●re 〈◊〉 known;  
Besides her double head, to help her stream that ●ath  
Her handmaids, Melta sweet, 〈◊〉 Hepsey, and Tragath)  
From Brecknock forth doth brea●e▪ then Dulas and Cl●daugh,  
By 
* Glamorgan.  Morgany do drive her through her watery 
a A kind of Trench.  saugh;  
With Taw●● taking 〈…〉 ●he Cambrian power:  
§. Then Lhu and Logar, given to strengthen them by G●wer▪  
'mongst whom, 〈…〉 there were, that in their sacred rage  
Recorded the Descents, and acts of every Age.  
Some with their nimble loy●ts that struck the ●a●●ling string;  
In fingering some 〈…〉 but one 〈◊〉 used to sing  
Unto the others Ha●p●: of which you both might find  
Great plenty, and of both excelling in their kind,  
§. That at the Stethva oft obtained a Visitors praise,  
Had won the Silver H●rpe, and wor●e Apollos●ayed ●ayed:  
Whose Verses they 〈◊〉 from those first golden ●imes,  
Of sundry sorts of Feet, and sundly su●e● of Rhymes.  
In 
b Englins, Co ♉ iths, and A ♉ dells, British forms of verses. See the Illustrations.  Englins some there were that on their subject strain;  
Some Makers that again affect the lofti●r vain,  
Rehearse their high 〈…〉 Cowiths': othersome  
In Owdells theirs express●▪ as matter haps to come;  
So varying still their Moods, observing yet in all  
Their Quantities, their Rests, their Geasures metrical:  
For to that sacred skill they most themselves apply▪  
Addicted from their births so much ●o Poesy,  
That in the Mountains those who sen●ce have seen a Book,  
Most skilfully will 
* A word, used by the Ancients, signifying to versify.  make, as though from Art they took.  
And as Loëgria spares not any thing of worth  
That any way might set her goodly Rivers forth,  
As stones by nature out from the Cornubian Strand;  
Her Dertmore sends them Pearl●▪ Rock vincent, Diamond:  
So Cambria, of her Nymphs especial ●are will have.  
For Conwy sends them Pearl to make them wondrous brave▪  
The sacred 
c Saint Winifrids Well.  Virgins dwell, her moss most sweet and rare,  
Against infectious damps for Pomander to wear:  
And 
d A glistering Rock in Monmouthshire.  Goldeliff of his Or● in plenteous sort allows,  
To spangle their are yets, and deck their amorous routs▪  
And lastly, holy De● (whose prayer were highly prized,  
As one in heavenly things devoutly exercised  
Who, 
a See the eight Song.  changing of his Fourds, by divination had  
foretold the neighbouring folk of fortune good or bad)  
In their intended course sith need● they will proceed,  
His Benediction sends in way of happy speed.  
And though there were such haste unto this long-looked hour,  
Yet let they not to call upon th'eternal Power.  
For, who will have his work his wished end to win,  
Let him with hearty prayer religiously begin.  
Wherefore the English part, with full deuou●intent,  
In meet and godly sort ●o Glastenbury sent,  
Beseeching of the Saints in Avalon that were,  
There offering at their Tombs for every one a tear,  
§. And humbly to Saint George their Country's Patron pray,  
To prospero their design now in this mighty day.  
The Britan's, like devout, their Messengers direct  
To David, that he would their ancient right protect.  
'mongst Hatterills lofty hills, that with the clouds are crowned,  
The Valley 
b In Monmouthshire.  Ewias lies, immured so deep and round,  
As they below that see the Mountains rise so high,  
Might think the straggling Herds were grazing in the sky:  
Which in it such a shape of solitude doth bear,  
As Nature at the first appointed it for prayer  
Where, in an aged ●ell, with moss and Ivy grown,  
In which, not to this day the Sun hath ever shown,  
That reverent British Saint in zealous Ages passed,  
To contemplation lived, and did so truly fast,  
As he did only drink what crystal Hod●ey yields,  
And fed upon the L●●ks he gathered in the fields.  
In memory of whom, in the revolving year  
The Welshmen on his day that sacred herb do wear:  
Where, of that holy man, as humbly they do crave,  
That in their just defence they might his furtherance have.  
Thus either, well prepared the others power before,  
conveniently being placed upon their equal shore;  
The Britan's, to whose lot the O●set doth belong,  
Give signal to the Foe for silen● to their Song.  
To tell each various Strain and turning of their Rhymes,  
How this in compass falls, or that in sharpeness climes  
(As where they rest and rise, how take it one from one,  
As every several Chord hath a peculiar Tone)  
Even Memory herself, though striving, would come short:  
But the material things Muse help me to report.  
As first, t'affront the Foe, in th'ancient Britan's right,  
With Arthur they begin, their most renowned Knight;  
The richness of the Arms their well-made 
a Arthur, one of the nine Worthies.  Worthy wore,  
The temper of his sword the (tried Escalaboure)  
The bigness and the length of Rone, his noble Spear;  
With Pridwin his great Shield, and what the proof could bear;  
His Baudrick how adorned with stones of wondrous price,  
§. The sacred Virgin's shape he bore for his device;  
These monuments of worth, the ancient Britan's song.  
Now, doubting lest these things might hold them but too long,  
His wars they took to task; the Land then overlaid  
With those proud Germane powers: when, calling to his aid  
His kinsman Howell, brought from Brittany the less,  
Their Armies they unite, both swearing to suppress  
The Saxon, here that sought through conquest all to gain.  
On whom he chanced to light at Lincoln: where the Plain  
Each where from side to side lay scattered with the dead.  
And when the conquered Foe, that from the conflict fled,  
Betook them to the woods, he never left them there  
Until the British earth he forced them to forswear.  
And as his actions rose, so raise they still their vein,  
In words, whose weight best suit a sublimated strain.  
§. They sung how he, himself at Badon bore that day,  
When at the glorious Goal his British Sceptre lay:  
Two days together how the battle strongly stood:  

b K. Arthur.  Pendragon's worthy son who waded there in blood,  
Three hundred Saxons slew with his own valiant hand.  
And after (called, the Pict, and Irish to withstand)  
How he, by force of Armes Albania overran,  
Pursuing of the Pict beyond Mount Calydon:  
There strongly shut them up whom stoutly he subdued.  
How Gillamore again to Ireland he pursued  
So oft as he presumed the envious Pict to aid:  
And having slain the King, the Country waste he laid.  
To Gothland how again this Conqueror maketh-forth  
With his so prosperous powers into the farthest North:  
Where, Island first he won, and Orkney after got.  
To Norway sailing next with his dear Nephew Lot,  
By deadly dint of sword did Ricoll there defeat:  
And having placed the Prince on that Norwegian seat,  
How this courageous King did Denmark then control:  
That scarcely there was found a Country 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 Leon's power to raise his Siege that brought.  
Then bravely set they forth, in combat how these Knights  
On horseback and on foot performed their several fights:  
As with what marvelous force each other they assailed,  
How mighty Flollio first, how Arthur then prevailed;  
For best advantage how they traversed their grounds,  
The horrid blows they lent, the world-amazing wounds,  
Until the Tribune, tired, sank under Arthur's sword.  
Then sing they how he first ordained the Circled-board,  
The Knights whose martial deeds far famed that Table-round;  
Which, truest in their loves; which, most in Arms renowned:  
The Laws, which long upheld that Order, they report;  
§. The Pentecosts prepared at Carleon in his Court,  
That Tables ancient seat; her Temples and her Groves,  
Her Palaces, her Walks, Baths, theatres, and Stoves:  
Her Academy, then, as likewise they prefer:  
Of Camelot they sing, and then of Winchester.  
The feasts that underground the Fairy did him make,  
And there how he enjoyed the Lady of the Lake.  
Then told they, how himself great Arthur did advance,  
To meet (with his Allies) that puissant force in France,  
By Lucius thither led; those Armies that while-ere  
Affrighted all the world, by him struck dead with fear:  
Th'report of his great Acts that over Europe ran,  
In that most famous Field he with the Emperor won:  
As how great Rython's self he slew in his repair,  
Who ravished Howells Niece, young Helena the fair;  
And for a Trophy brought the Giant's coat away  
Made of the beards of Kings. Then bravely chanted they  
The several twelve pitched Fields he with the Saxons fought:  
The certain day and place to memory they brought;  
Then by false Mordred's hand how last he chanced to fall,  
The hour of his decease, his place of burial.  
When out the English cried, to interrupt their Song:  
But they, which knew to this more matter must belong,  
Not out at all for that, nor any whit dismayed,  
But to their well-tuned Harps their fingers closely laid:  
Twixt every one of which they placed their Country's 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 fain have brought to pass,  
About it to have built a brickwall of solid Brass:  
And set his Fiends to work upon the mighty frame;  
Some to the Anvil: some, that still enforced the flame:  
But whilst it was in hand, by loving of an Elf  
(For all his wondrous skill) was cozened by himself.  
For, walking with his Fay, her to the Rock he brought,  
In which he oft before his Nigromancies wrought:  
And going in thereat his Magiques to have shown,  
She stopped the Caverns mouth with an enchanted stone:  
Whose cunning strongly crossed, amazed whilst he did stand,  
She captive him conveyed unto the Fairy Land.  
Then, how the labouring spirits, to Rocks by fetters bound,  
With bellows rumbling groans, and hammers thundering sound,  
A fearful horrid din still in the Earth do keep,  
Their Master to awake, supposed by them to sleep;  
As at their work how still the grieved spirits repine,  
Tormented in the Fire, and tired at the Mine.  
When now the British side scarce finished their Song,  
But th' English that repined to be delayed so long,  
All quickly at the hint, as with one free consent,  
Struck up at once and sung each to the Instrument;  
(Of sundry sorts that were, as the Musician likes)  
On which the practised hand with perfectest fingering strikes,  
Whereby their height of skill might liveliest be expressed.  
The trembling Lute some touch, some strain the Viol best  
In sets which there were seen, the music wondrous choice:  
Some likewise there affect the Gamba with the voice,  
To show that England could variety afford.  
Some that delight to touch the sterner wyerie Chord, 
The sundry Musics of England.   
The Cythron, the Pandore, and the Theorbo strike:  
The Gittern and the Kit the wandering Fiddlers like.  
So were there some again, in this their learned strife  
Loud Instruments that loved; the Cornet and the Phife,  
The Oboe, Sackbut deep, Recorder, and the Flute:  
Even from the shrillest Shaw me unto the Cornamute.  
Some blow the Bagpipe up, that plays the Country-round:  
The Taber and the Pipe, some take delight to sound.  
Of Germany they sung the long and ancient fame,  
From whence their noble Sires the valiant Saxons came,  
Who sought by Sea and Land Adventures far and near;  
And seizing at the last upon the Britan's here,  
Surprised the spacious I'll, which still for theirs they hold:  
As in that Country's praise how in those times of old,  
§. Tuisco, gomer's son, from 
* Gen. 11.8.9.  unbuilt Babel brought  
His people to that place, with most high knowledge fraught,  
And under wholesome Laws established their abode;  
Whom his Tudeskt since have honoured as a God:  
Whose clear creation made them absolute in all,  
Retaining till this time their pure Original.  
And as they boast themselves the Nation most unmixed,  
Their language as at first, their ancient customs fixed,  
The people of the world most hardy, 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 Skeins they used in war to bear,  
Which in their thundering tongue, the Germans, Handseax name,  
§. They Saxons first were called: whose far extended fame  
For hardiness in war, whom danger never afraid,  
Allured the Britan's here to call them to their aid:  
From whom they after reft Loëgria as their own,  
Brutus' offspring then too weak to keep it being grown.  
This told: the Nymphs again, in nimbler strains of wit,  
Next neatly come about, the Englishmen to quit  
Of that inglorious blot by Bastard William brought  
Upon this conquered Isle: than which Fate never wrought  
A fitter mean (say they) great Germany to grace;  
To graft again in one, two Remnants of her ra●e:  
Upon their several ways, two several times that went  
To forage for themselves. The first of which she sent  
§. To get their seat in Gaul: 
The Normans and the Saxons of one blood.  which on Nuestria light,  
And (in a famous war the Frenchmen put to flight)  
Possessed that fruitful place, where only from their name  
§. Called North-men (from the North of Germany that came,  
Who thence expelled the Gauls, and did their rooms supply)  
This, first Nuestria named, was then called Normandy.  
That by this means, the less (in conquering of the great)  
Being drawn from their late home unto this ampler seat,  
residing here, 
The Normans lost that name and became English.  resigned what they before had won;  
§. That as the Conqueror's blood, did to the conquered run:  
So kindly being mixed, and up together grown,  
As severed, they were her●; united, still her own.  
But these mysterious things desisting now to show  
(The secret works of heaven) to long Descents they go:  
How Egelred (the Sire of Edward the last King  
Of th'English Saxon Line) by nobly marrying  
With hardy Richard's heir, the Norman Emma, bred  
Alliance in their bloods. Like Brooks that from one head  
Bear several ways (as though to sundry Seas to haste)  
But by the varying soil, int'one again are cast:  
So chanced it in this the nearness of their blood.  
For when as England's right in question after stood,  
Proud Herald, goodwin's heir, the Sceptre having won  
From Edgar Etheling young, the outlawed Edward's son;  
The valiant Bastard this his only colour made,  
With his brave Norman powers this kingdom to invade.  
Which leaving, they proceed to Pedigrees again,  
Their after-Kings to fetch from that old Saxon strain;  
From Margarit that was made the Scottish Malcoms Bride,  
Who to her Grandsire had courageous Ironside:  
Which outlawed Edward left; whose wife to him did bring  
This Margarit Queen of Scots, and Edgar Etheling:  
That Margarit brought forth Maud; which gracious Macolme gave  
To Henry Beuclarks bed (so Fate it pleased to have)  
§. Who him a daughter brought; which heaven did strangely spare:  
And for the special love he to the mother bare,  
Her Maude again he named, to th' Almain Emperor wed:  
Whose Dowager whilst she lived (her puissant Caesar dead)  
She th'earl of A●ion next to husband doth prefer.  
The second Henry then by him begot of her,  
Into the Saxon Line the Sceptre thus doth bring.  
Then presently again prepare themselves to sing  
The sundry foreign Fields the Englishmen had fought.  
Which when the Mountains saw (and not in vain) they thought  
That if they still went on as thus they had begun,  
Then from the Cambrian Nymphs (sure) Lundy would be won.  
And therefore from their first they challenged them to fly;  
And (idly running on with vain prolixity)  
A larger subject took than it was fit they should.  
But, whilst those would proceed, these threatening them to hold,  

a These & the rest following, the famousest Hills in Brecknock, Glamorgan, and Monmouth.  Black-Mountaine for the love he to his Country bare,  
As to the beauteous uske, his joy and only care  
(In whose defence t'appear more stern and full of dread)  
Put on a Helm of clouds upon his rugged head.  
Mounchdeny doth the like for his beloved Tawe:  
Which quickly all the rest by their example draw:  
As Hatterell in the right of ancient Wales will stand.  
To these three Mountains, first of the Erekinnian Band,  
The Monumethian Hills, like insolent and stout,  
On lofty tiptoes than began to look about;  
That Skeridvaur at last (a Mountain much in might,  
In hunting that had set his absolute delight)  
Caught up his 
a Welch-hook.  Country Hooke; nor cares for future harms,  
But irefully enraged, would needs to open Arms:  
Which quickly put 
b So named of his bald head.  Penvayle in such outrageous heat,  
That whilst for very teen his hairless scalp doth sweated,  
The Blorench looketh big upon his bared crown:  
And tall Tomberlow seems so terribly to frown,  
That where it was supposed with small ado or none  
Th'event of this debate would easily have been known,  
Such strange tumultuous stirs upon this strife ensue,  
As where all griefs should end, old sorrows still renew:  
That Severne thus forewarned to look unto the worst  
(And finds the latter ill more dangerous than the first)  
The doom she should pronounce, yet for a while delayed,  
Till these rebellious routs by justice might be stayed;  
A period that doth put to my Discourse so long,  
To finish this debate the next ensuing Song.  

Illustrations.  
OVer Severne (but visiting Lundey, a little I'll twixt Hartland and Goven point) you are transported into Wales. Your ●rauels with the Muse are most of all in Monmouth, Glamorgan, and the South maritime shires.  
And wanton to hatch the Birds of Ganymed.  
Walter Baker a Canon of Osney (interpreter of Thomas de la moors life of Edward the II.) affirms, that it commonly breeds Coneys, Pigeons, & struconas, quos vocat Alexander Necha●●● (so you must read, 
a Tho. dela Moor emendatus.  not Nechristuna, as the Francfort print senselessly mistook with Conday, for Lundey) Ganymodis aves. What he means by his Birds of Ganymed, out of the name, unless Eagles or Ostriches (as the common fiction of the Ca●amits ravishment, and this French Latin word of the Translator would) I collect not. But rather read also Palamedis aves. ●. Crane's) of which 
b De rerum natural. lib. 1.  Necham indeed hath a whole Chapter: what the other should be, or whence reason of the name comes, I confess I am ignorant.  
Clear Towridge whom they feared would have estranged her fall.  
For she rising near Hartland, wanton runs to Hat●erlay in Devon, as if she would to the Southern Ocean; but returning, there at last is discharged into the Severne Sea.  
Yet hardly upon Powse they dare their hopes to lay.  

Tripartit division of Wales.  Wales had 
c Girald descript cap. 2. & Powel ad Caradoc. Lancharuan.  her three parts, North-wales, South-Wales, and Powis. The last, as the middle twixt the other, extended from Cardigan to Shropshire; and on the English side from Chester to Hereford (being the portion of Anarawd, son to great Roderique) bears this accusation, because it comprehends, for the most, both Nations and both tongues. But see for this division to the VII. Song.  
Nor Rosse for that too much she aliens doth respect.  
Under Henry I a Colony of Flemings driven out of their country by inundation, and kindly received here in respect of that alliance which the K. had with their Earl (for his mother Maude wife to the Conqueror, was daughter to Baldwin Earl of Flanders) afterward upon difference twixt the K. and Earl Robert, were out of divers parts, but especially Northumberland, where they most of all (as it seems by Hoveden) had residence, constrained into Rosse 
* So called perhaps because it is almost inisled within the Sea, and Lhogor as Rosay in Scotland▪ expressing almost an Isle▪ Buchanan. hist. ●. in Eugenio 4.  in Penbroke, which retains yet in name and tongue express notes of being aliens to the Cambro-britains'. See the Author in his next Song.  
That Taliessen once which made the rivers dance.  
Taliessin (not T●lesin, as Bal● calls him) a learned Bard, styled 
d Pris. in descript. Walli●.  Ben Beirdh i. the chiefest of the Bards, Master to Merlin Sylvester, lived about Arthur's reign, whose acts his Muse hath celebrated.  
With Lhu and Lhogor given, to strengthen them by Gower.  
Twixt Neth and Lhogor in Glamorgan is this Gower, a little province, extended into the Sea as a Cherronesse; out of it on the West, rise these two Rivers meant by the Author.  
That at the Stethua oft obtained a Victor's praise.  
Understand this Stethua to be the meeting of the British Poets and Minstrels, for trial 
a Antiquis huiusmodi certamina fuisse docem●● a sch●least, Aristoph. & D. Cypriano serm. de Alcator. Censure upon books published.  of their Poems and Music sufficiencies, where the best had his reward, a Silver Harp. Some example is of it under Rees ap Griffith, Prince of South-Wales, in the year M. C.LXX.VI. A custom so good, that, had it been judiciously observed, truth of Story had not been so uncertain: for there was, by suppose, a correction of what was faulty in form or matter, or at least a censure of the hearers upon what was recited. As (according to the Roman use▪ it is 
b Camd. in Epist. Fulconi Grevil. ad edit. Anglie. Norm. etc.  noted, that Girald of Cambria, when he had written his Topography of Ireland, made at three several days several recitals of his III. distinctions in Oxford; of which course some have wished a recontinuance, that either amendment of opinion or change of purpose in publishing, might prevent blazoned errors. The sorts of these Poets and Minstrels out of Doctor Powels interserted annotations upon Caradoc Lhancaruan, I note to you; first Beirdhs, otherwise Pryduids (called in Athenaeus, Lucan & others, Bards) who▪ somewhat like the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 among the Greeks, 
* Did sing the valiant deeds of famous men to the swee●e melody of the Harp.  fortia virorum illustrium facti● hero●cis composita versibus cum dulcibus lyrae modulis 
c Amnian Marcelin. hist. 15.  cantitarunt, which was the chiefest form of the ancientest music among the Gentiles, as 
d part seconda cap. ●. & ●.  Zarlino hath fully collected. Their charge also as Heraulto, was to describe and preserve pedigrees, wherein their line ascendent went from the Petruccius to B. M. thence to Silvius and Ascanius, from them to Adam. Thus Girald reporting, hath his B.M. in some copies by 
e Da●. Povel. ad Girald▪ descript. cap. 3.  transcription of ignorant Monks (forgetting their tenant of perpetual virginity, and 
f Suid. in I●●.  that relation of Theodosius) turned into 
* S. Marry For the Harp and other music instruments, their form and antiquity▪ see to the VI Song ● whether a special occasion compelled it. Quantity of the Bards verses. . Beatam Mariam, whereas it stands for Belinum Magnum (that was Heli, in their writers, father to L●d and Cassibelin) to whom their genealogies had always reference. The second are which play on the Harp and Crowd; their music for the most part came out of Ireland with Gruffith ap Conan Pr. of North-wales, about K. Stephen's time. This Gruffith reform the abuses of those Minstrels by a particular statu●, extant to this day. The third are called Atcaneaid; they sing to instruments played on by others. For the Engly●s, Cy●dhs and A●dls; the first are couplets interchanged of XVI. & XIIII. feet called Paladiries & Pencils, the second of equal tetrameters, the third of variety in both rhyme and quantity. Subdivision of them, and better information may be had in the elaborat institutions of the Cumraeg language by David ap Rees. Of their music anciently, out of an old writer read this: 
Form of the British music.  Non uniformitter, ut alibi, sed multipliciter multisque modis & modulis cantilena● emittunt, ade● ut, turbâ canentium, quo● videas capita to● a●dias carmina, discriminaque vocum varia, in unam denique, sub B. mollis dulcedine blanda, consonantiam & organical convenientia melodiam. A good Musician will better understand it, than I that transcribe it. But by it you see they especially affected the mind composing Dorique (which is showed in that of an old 
g Mar●ian, Heracl●ot●i● 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  author, affirming that 
* To make them gentle natured.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the Western people of the world constituted use of music in their assemblies, though the 
h Girald. Topog. dist. 3. cap. 11.  Irish (from whence they learned) were wholly for the sprightful Phrygian. See the next Canto.  
And humbly to S. George their Country's Patron pray.  
Our Author (a judgement day thus appointed twixt the Water-Nymphs) seems to allude to the course used of old with us, that those which were to end their cause by combat, were sent to several Saints for invocation, as in our 
i 30. Ed. 3. fol. 20.  Law-annals appears. For 
* Tropelophorus dictus in menol● gie Grate apud Baronium, sort 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 five 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 quid n. Trope●ophorus?  S. George, that he is patron to the English, as S. Dinis, S. james, S. Patrique, S. Andrew, S. Antony, S. Mark, to the French, Spanish, Irish, Scotish, Italian, Venetian, scarce any is, that knows not. Who he was & when the English took him, is not so manifest. The old Martyrologies give, with us, to the honour of his birth the XXIII. of April. His passion is supposed in Diocletian's persecution. His country Cappadoce. His acts are divers and strange, reported by his servant Pasicrates, Simeon Metaphrastes, and lately collected by Surius. As for his Knightly form, and the dragon under him, as he is pictured in Beryth a City of Cyprus, with a young maid kneeling to him, an unwarrantable report goes that it was for his martial delivery of the King's daughter from the Dragon, as Hesione and Andromeda were from the Whales by Hercules, and Perseus. Your more neat judgements, finding no such matter in true antiquity, rather make it symbolical then truly proper. So that some accounted him an allegory of our Saviour Christ; and our admired 
k Fairy Q lib. 1.  Spencer hath made him an emblem of Religion. So Chaucer to the Knights of that order.  
— but for God's pleasance  
And his mother, and in signifiance  
That ye been of S. George's livery  
Doth him service and Knightly obeisance  
For Christ's cause is his, well known ye.  
Others interpret that picture of him as some country or City (signified by the Virgin) imploring his aid against the Devil, charactered in the Dragon. Of him you may particularly see, especially in Vsuards martyrology, and Baronius his annotations upon the Roman Calendar, with Erhard Celly his description of Frederique Duke of Wittembergs installation in the Garter, by favour of our present Sovereign. But what is delivered of him in the Legend, even the Church of Rome 
l C. Sancta Rom. eccles. 3. dist. 15. Gelasi●● PP.  hath disallowed in these words; That not so made as any scandal may rise in the holy Roman Church, the passions of S. George, and such like, supposed to be written by heretics, are not read in it. But you may better believe the Legend, then that he was a Coventry man borne, with his Caleb Lady of the woods, or that he descended from the Saxon race, and such like; which some English fictions deliver. His name (as generally 
m Ord. Rom. de divin. of 〈◊〉 apud Baronium in martyrolog.  also S. Maurice and S. Sebastian) was anciently called on by Christians as an advocate of victory (when in the Church that kind of doctrine was) so that our particular right to him (although they say 
n Harding cap. 72.  K. Arthur bore him in one of his Banners) appears not until Ed. III. consecrated to S. George the Knightly order of the Garter, 
o Th. d● Walsing. A.M. C.C.C.L. & XXIV Ed. III. Fabian puts it before this year, but erroneously.  soon after the victory at Caleis against the French, in which his invocation was Haraldus S. Edward, Ha S. George. Some authority 
p Ex antiq. ma. ap. Camd. in Berks●●●.  refers this to Richard Ceur de Lion, who supposed himself comforted by S. George in his wars against the Turks and Hagarens. But howsoever, since that he hath been a Patron among others, as in that of Frederique the thirds institution 
q M. CD.XXCVIII. Die ge scelsch hast S. Georgen schilts. Martin. Crus. anual. 〈◊〉. part. ●. lib. 9  of the quadripartit society of S. George's shield, and more of that nature, you find. And under Hen. VIII. it was enacted, 
r ●●. Hen. ● in statuti● Hibernicis.  that the Irish should leave their Cramaboo and Butleraboo, words of unlawful patronage, and name themselves as under S. George, and the King of England. More proper is S. D●wy (we call him S. David) to the Welsh. Reports of him affirm that he was of that country, uncle to K. Arthur (Bale and others say, gotten upon Melaria a Nun, by Xantus' Prince of Cardigan) and successor to Du●rice Archbishop of Caer-leon upon V●ke (whereto 
a Polychronic. lib. 1. cap. 52.  a long time the British Bishoprics as to their Metropolitique See were subject) and thence translated with his nephews consent the Primacy to Menevia, which is now S. Devies in Penbroke. He was a strong oppugner of the Pelagian heresy. To him our country Calendars give the l. of March, but in the old Martyrologies I find him not remembered: yet I read that 
b Bal. cent. 1.  Calixtus II. first canonised him. See him in the next Canto.  
The sacred Virgin's shape he bore for his device.  
Arthur's 
c Nennius. histor. Galfred. lib. 6. cap. ●. & lib. 7. cap. 2. Beginning of arms and crests.  shield Pridwen (or his Banner) had in it the picture of our Lady and his Helm an engraven Dragon. From the like form was his father called Vter-pen-dragon. To have terrible crests or engraven beasts of rapine (Herodotus and Strabo fetch the beginning of them, and the bearing of arms from the Carians) hath been from inmost antiquity continued; as appears in that Epithet of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, proper to Minerva, but applied to others in Aristophanes, and also 
d Aeschyl. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Euripid in Phoeniss. The Dragon supporter and Standard of England.  in the Thoban war. Either hence may you derive the English Dragon now as a supporter, and usually pitched in fields by the Saxon, English, and Norman Kings for their Standard (which is frequent in Hoveden, Matthew Paris, and Floril●gus) or from the Romans, who after the Minotaur, Horse, Eagle, and other their antic ensigns took this beast; or else imagine that our Kings joined in that general consent, whereby so many nations bore it. For by plain and good authority, collected by a great critic, 
e Lips. come. ad Polyb 4. dissert. 5.  you may find it affirmed of the Assyrians, Indians, Scythians, Persians, Dacians, Romans; and of the greeks too for their shields, and otherwise: wherein Lipsius unjustly finds fault with Isidore, but forgets that in a number of Greek 
f Pindar. Pythieni●. 〈◊〉. Homer. Iliad. suid. Epaminond Hesiod. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Plutarch. Lysand. Euripid in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  authors is copious witness of as much.  
They sing how he himself at Badon bore the day.  
That is Baunsedowne in Somerset (not Blackmore in Yorkshire, as Polydore mistakes) as is expressly proved out of a ms. G●ldas 
g Camden. , different from that published by josselin.  
That scarcely there was found a country to the pole.  
Some, too hyperbolique, stories make him a large conqueror on every adjacent country, at the Muse recites▪ and his seal, which Leland says he saw▪ in Westminster Abbey, of red wax pictured with a Mound, bearing a cross in his left hand (which was first 
h Suid in justinian. No seals before the Conquest.  justinian's device; and surely, in later time, with the seal counterfeited and applied to Arthur: no King of this Land, except the Confessor, before the Conquest 
i Ingalph●s.  ever using in their Charters more than subscription of name and crosses) and a Sceptre fleury in his right, calls him 
* Emperor of Britain, Gaul, Germany, and Danmarke; for so they falsely turned Da●ia.  Britanniae, Galliae, Germaniae, Daciae Imperator. The Bards songs have, with this kind of unlimited attribute so loaden him, that you can hardly guess what is true of him. Such indulgence to false report hath wronged many Worthies, and among them even that great Alexander in prodigious suppositions (like Stichus 
k Plaut. in Stiche.  his Geography, laying Pontus in Arabia) as Strabo often complains; & some idle Monk of middle time is so impudent to affirm, that at Babylon he erected a column, inscribed with Latin and Greek verses, as notes of his victory; of them you shall taste in these two: 
Anglicus & Scotus Britonum superque caterua  
Irlandus, Flander, Cornwalli●, & quoque Norguey.  Only but that Alexander and his followers were no good Latinists (wherein, when you have done laughing, you may wonder at the decorum) I should censure my lubberly versifier to no less punishment than Marsyas his excoriation. But for Arthur, you shall best know him in this elegy. This is that Arthur of whom the Britons even to this day speak so idly; a man right worthy to have been celebrated by true story, not false tales, seeing it was he that long time upheld his declining country and even inspired martial courage into his country men; as the Monk of Malmesbury, 
Knights and Ladies sat in several rooms.  of him: 
The Pentecost prepared at Caer-leon in his Court.   
At Caer-leon in Monmouth, after his victories, a pompous celebration was at Whitsuntide, whether were invited divers Kings and Princes of the neighbouring coasts; he with them, and his Queen Guinever, with the Ladies keeping those solemnities in their several conclaves. For so the British story makes it according to the Trojan custom, that in festival solemnities, both sexes should not sit together. Of the Troyans' I remember no warrant for it: but among the greeks one Sphyromachus 
a Scholast. ad Arist ephan. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. & Suidas. Round Tables.  first instituted it. Torneaments and jousts were their exercises, nor vouchsafed any Lady to bestow her favour on him, which had not been thrice crowned with fame of martial performance. For this order (which herein is delineated) know, that the old Gauls (whose customs and the British were near the same) had their Orbicular tables to avoid controversy of presedency (a form much commended by a late 
b Gemos. halograph. lib. 3. cap. 9  writer for the like distance of all from the Salt, being centre, first, and last of the furniture) and at them every Knight attended by his Esquire (
* A●migeri▪ which is expressed in the word Schilpors in Paul Warn●red. lib. ●. de gest. Lo●gobard. cap. ●●.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Athenaeus 
c Dipnosoth. lib. ●.  cal● them) holding his shield. Of the like in Hen. III. Matthew Paris, of Mortimers at Kelingworth, under Ed. I and that of Windsor, celebrated by Edw. III. Walsingham speaks. Of the Arthurian our Histories have scarce mention. But Hauillan's Architrenius, Robert of Gloucester, john Lidgat Monk of Bury, and English rhymes in divers hands sing it. It is remembered by Leland, Camden, Volateran, Philip of B●rgomo, Lily, Aubert Mir●●, others, but very diversly. White of Basingstok● defends it, and imagines the original from an election by Arthur and Howell K. of Armorique Britain of six of each of their worthiest Peers to be always assistant in counsel. The antiquity of the Earldom of 
d Hoppenrod & spangberg. apud Ortc●●●m in Mansfeld. Many places in Wales in hills and rocks, honoured with Arthur's name. Pris desens. hist. Brit. & Cadair Arthur i. Arthur's Chair in Brecknock G●rald. I●in. Camb. cap. 2. & Arthur's Oven in Souling of Scotland.  Mansfeld in old Saxony is hence affirmed, because Heger Earl thereof was honoured in Arthur's Court with this order; places of name for residence of him and his Knights were this Caer-leon, Winchester (where his Table is yet supposed to be, but that seems of later date) and Camelot in Somerset. Some put his number XII. I have seen them anciently pictured XXIV. in a Poetical story of him; and in Denbighshire, Stow tells us, in the parish of Lansannan on the side of a stony hill is a circular plain, cut out of a main rock, with some XXIV. seats unequal, which they call Arthur's Round Table. Some Catalogues of arms have the coats of the Knights, blazoned; but I think with as good warrant as 
e Liure 2. ch●pit. 30.  Rabelais can justify, that Sir Lancelot du Lac rostes horses in hell, and that 
* The Knights of the Round Table use to ferry spirits over Styx, Acheron, and other rivers, and for their fare have a fillip on the nose and a piece of mouldy bread.  Tous le●ch●ualiers de la Table ronde esto●ent pours gaigne-deniers tirans lafoy ram●pur passer les rivers de Coccyte, Phlegeton, Styx, Acheron, & Lethe quand Mossieurs les diables se voulent esbatre sur leaucome font les Basteliers de Lyonet gondoliers de Venise, Mais pour chacune passade il●n ' ont qu'un Nazarde & sur le soir qu●lque merceau de pain chaumeny. Of them, their number, exploits, and prodigious performances you may read Caxtons published volume, digested by him into XXI. books, out of divers French and Italian fables, From such I abstain, as I may.  
And for  sake—  
Two 
b Girald. I●iner. Camb. 1. cap. 8.  Merlin's have our stories: One of Scotland commonly titled Sylvester, or Caledonius living under Arthur; the other Ambrose (of whom before) borne of a Nun (daughter to the K. of South-Wales) in Carmarthen, nor naming 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 burial (in supposition as uncertain as his birth, actions, and all of those too fabulously mixed stories) and his Lady of the Lake it is by liberty of profession laid in France by that Italian 
c Orland. Furies'. cant. 3. See Spencer's Fa●ry Q. lib. 3. cant. 3.  Ariosto: which perhaps is as credible as some more of his attributes, seeing no persuading authority, in any of them, rectifies the uncertainty. But for his birth see the next Song, and, to it, more.  
Tuisco gomer's son from unbuilt Babel brought.  
According to the 
d Gen. 10.  text, the jews affirm that All the sons of Noah were dispersed through the earth, and every one's name left to the land which he possessed. Upon this tradition, and false Berosus testimony, it is affirmed that Tuisco (son of Noah, gotten with others after the 
e Munsier. Cosm. lib. 3.  flood upon his wife Arezia) took to his part the coast about Rhine, and that thence came the name of Teutschland and Teutsch, which we call Dutch, through Germany. 
f Goropius in Indo●●ythic.  Some make him the same with Gomer, eldest son to japhet (by whom these parts of Europe were peopled) out of notation of his name, deriving Tuiscon or Tuiston (for so Tacitus calls him) from The hoodt son i. the eldest son. Others (as the author here) suppose him son to Gomer, and take 
g Iodo●. Willich. comm. ad Tacit. Germaniam. & Pantaleon lib. 1. ●●●sopograph.  him for Aschenaz (remembered by Moses as first son to Gomer, and from whom the Hebrews call the Germans 
h E●ias levit. in Thi●●b. Aria's Mont. in Pel●g.  Aschenazim) whose relics probably indeed seem to be in Tuisco, which hath been made of Aschen either by the Dutch prepositive article die or lie, as our the (according to Derceto for 
i Strab. lib. 〈…〉 & ●● de aiijs quae hic congerimus.  Atergatis, which should be Adargada in C●esias; and Danubius for Adubenus in Festus, perhaps therein corrupted, as joseph Scaliger observes; as Theudibald for Ildibald in Procopius, and Diceneus for Ceneus among the Geteses) or through mistaking of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in the Hebrew, as in Rhodanim 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for 
k ●roughton in consent. praes.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 being Dodanim, and in Chalibes and Alybes for Thalybes from Tubal by taking 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; for in ruder manuscripts by an imperfect Reader, the first mistaking might be as soon as the rest. I conjecture it the rather, for that in most Histories diversity with affinity twixt the same-meant proper names (especially Eastern as this was) is ordinary; as Megabyzus in C●esias is Bacabasu● in justin, who calls Aaron, Aruas, and Herodotus his Smerdis, Mergidis, Asarhadon, Coras and Esther in the Scriptures are thus Sardanapalus, Cyrus, & Amestris in the Greek stories, Eporedorix, Ambriorix, Ariminiu●, in Caesar and Suetòn, supposed to have been Frederique, Henry, Herman: divers like examples occur; and in comparison of Arrian with Q. Curtius' very many; like as also in the life of S. john the Evangelist, anciently 
l Pet. Kirstenius Grammaticae Arabic● subin●●●it.  written in Arabic you have Asubasianuusu, Thithimse, Damthianuusu for Vespasian, Titus, Domitian, and in our stories Androgeus for Caesar's Mandubratius. From Tuisco is our name of Tuesday; and in that too, taking the place of Mars (the most fiery Star, and observe with all that against the vulgar opinion the planetary account of days is very 
m Scal●●. in prolegom. a● emendat. temp.  ancient) discovers affinity with Aschenaz, in whose notation (as 
n Melancthon ap. Becan. in Indoscyth.  some body observes) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 signifies fire.  
They Saxons first were called—  
So a Latin rhyme in 
a Ap. Camdenum  Engelhuse also; 
Quip brevis gladius apud illos Saxa vocatur,  
unde sibi Saxo nomen traxisse puta●ur.  Although from the Sacans or Sagans a populous nation in Asia (which were also Scythians, and of whom an old 
b Dionys Afer. in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. The English from their original, excellent Archers. See the VIII. Song.  Poet, as most others in their Epithets and passages of the Scythyans, 

* The shooting Sac● none can teach them Art: For what they loos't at, never escapes their dart.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  A faculty for which the English have had no small honour in their later wars with the French) both Goropius with long argument in his Becceselana, our judicious Camden and others will have them, as it were, Saca●'s-sonnes. According hereto is that name of 
c Strabo lib. ●●.  Sacasena, which a colony of them gave to part of Armenia and the 
d Ptolem. geograph. lib. ●. cap. ●●.  Sasones in Scythia on this side of Imaus. Howsoever, the Author's conceit thus chosen is very apt, nor disagreeing to this other, in that some community was twixt the name of Sacae or Sagae, and a certain sharp weapon called Sagaris, used by the Amazons, Sacans, and Persians, as the Greek 
e Herodot. Polyhymn. Xenoph. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Strabo lib. ●.  stories inform us.  
The Britain's here allured to call them to their aid.  
Most suppose them sent to by the Britons much subject to the eruptions of Picts and Scots, and so invited hither for aid: but the stories of Gildas and Nennius have no such thing, but only that there landed of them (as banished their country, 
See the 8. Song  which Geffrey of Monmouth expresses also) III. long boats in Kent with Horse and Hengist Captains. They afterward were most willingly requested to multiply their number by sending for more of their country men to help K. Vortigern, and under that colour, and by Ronix (daughter to Hengist, and wife to Vortigern) her womanish subtlety, in greater number were here planted. Of this, more large in every common story. But to believe their first arrival rather for new place of habitation, then upon embassage of the Britons, I am persuaded by this, that 
f justin. lib. 24. & 41. Herodot. Clio. Wasingh. Hypodig. Neust. Gemetie●ēs. lib. 1. cap. 4. Sabnis & Graecis morem hunc suisse memini legisse me apud Varron●m & Columellam.  among the Cimbrians, Gauls, Goths, Dacians, Scythians, and especially the Sacans (if Strabo deceive not; from whom our Saxons) with other Northern people, it was a custom upon numerous abundance to transplant colonies: from which use the Parthians (sent out of Scythia, as the Romans did their 
g Festus in ●od. & Mamertinis.  Ver Sacrum) retain that name, signifying banished (says Trogus;) not unlikely, from the Hebrew Paratz 
h 〈◊〉 Gen. 28. 14. Iesai. 54.3. , which is to separat, and also to multiply in this kind of propagation, as it is used in the promise to Abraham, and in Isay's consolation to the Church. Here being the main change of the British name and State, a word or two of the time and year is not untimely. Most put it under CD. XL.IX. (according to Bedes copies and their followers) or CD.L of Christ; whereas indeed by apparent proof 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 Fasciculus Temporum have placed it. The error I imagine to be from restoring of woorens 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 received Christian account but XII. years before the Passion, thereby omitting XXII. For although Marian's published Chronicle (which is but 
i Malmesb. lib. 4. de Pontificib.  a defloration by Robert of Lorraine Bishop of Hereford under Hen. I and an Epitome of Marian) goes near from the ordinary time of Incarnation under Augustus, yet he lays it also, according to the Roman Abbot Dionysius in the XXIII. year following, 
Mistake in our Chronologies.  which was rather by taking advantage of Dionysius his error then following his opinion. For when he (about justinian's time) made his Period of D.XXXII. years of the golden number and cycle of the Sun multiplied, it fell out so in his computation that the XV. Moon following the jews Passeover, the Dominical letter, Friday, and other concurrents according to Ecclesiastical tradition supposed for the Passion could not be but in the 
b Paul. de Midleburg● part. 2. lib. 5.  XII. year after his birth (a lapse by himself much repent) and then supposing Christ lived XXXIV. years, XXII. must needs be omitted; a collection directly against his meaning; having only forgotten to fit those concurren●●. This account (in itself, and by the Abbot's purpose, as our vulgar is now, but with some little difference) erroneously followed, I conjecture, made them, which too much desired correction, add the supposed evangelical XXII. years to such times as were before true, & so came CCCC. XXVIII. to be CCCC. XL.IX. & CCCC.L. which White of Busingstoke (although aiming to be accurate) unjustly follows. Subtraction of this number, and, in some, addition (of addition you shall have perhaps example in amendment of the C.L.VI. year for K. Lucius his letters to PP. Eleutherius) will rectify many gross absurdities in our Chronologies, which are by transcribing, interpolation, misprinting and creeping in of antichronisme● now and then strangely disordered.  
To get their seat in Gaul which on Nuestria light.  
And a little after.  
Called Northmen from the North of Germany that came.  
What is now Normandy is, in some, styled Neustria and Nuestria corruptly, as most think, for Westria, that is West-rich i. the west Kingdom (confined anciently twixt the Mensae and the Loire) in respect of Ostrich or Dostrich i. the East Kingdom, 
Westrich.  now Lorraine, upon such reason as the Archdukedome hath his name at this day. Rollo son of a Danish Potentate, accompanied with divers Danes, Norwegians, Scythians, Goths, and a supplement of English, which he had of K. Athelstan, about the year D.CCCC. made transmigration into France, and there, after some martial discords, honoured in holy tincture of Christianity with the name of Robert, received 
c Paul. Aemilius hist. Franc. 3.  of Charles the Simple with his daughter (or sister) Gilla this Tract as her dower, containing (as before) more than Normandy. It is 
d Guil. Gemiticens. lib. 2 cap. 17. An unmannerly homage.  reported, that when the Bishops at this donation required him to kiss the King's foot for homage, after scornful refusal, he commanded one of his Knights to do it; the Knight took up the King's leg, and in straining it to his mouth, overturned him; yet nothing but honourable respect followed on either part.  
That as the Conqueror's blood did to the conquered run.  
Our Author makes the Norman invasion a reuniting of severed kindred, rather than a conquest by a mere stranger, taking argument as well from identity of countryship (being all Germans by original, and the people of 
e Marcian. Hera●leot. in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  the Cimbrica Ch●rsonesus, now Danmarch, anciently called Saxons) as from contingency of blood twixt the Engle-Saxon Kings, & the Norman Dukes thus expressed:  
Object not that Duke Robert got the Conqueror upon Arletta (from whom perhaps came our name of Harlot) his Concubine, nor that 
a ff. unde cognati l. 4. spurius. & tit. de grad. affin. l. 4. non sacile. § 8. Sciendum.  Consanguinitatis & aedgnationis iura à patre tantum & legitimis nuptijs oriuntur, as the Civil Law, and upon the matter the English also defines; but rather allow it by law of Nature and Nobility, which justifies the bastards bearing of his father's coat, distinguished with a Bend sinister: Nicholas Vpton calls it 
* Right of blood and kindred comes only by lawful marriage.  Fissura, eò quod finditur à patriâ haereditate, which is but his conceit: and read Heuters tract de liberâ hominis nativitate, where you shall find a kind of legitimation of that now disgraceful name Bastard, which in more antic times was, as a proud title, inserted in the stile of great and most honourable Princes. Pretending this consanguinity, S. Edward's adoption, and K. Harold's oath, aided by successful arms the Norman acquired the English Crown; although William of 
b A division, because he is separated from his father's inheritance. M. LX.VI.  Poiteer affirms, that on his death bed he made protestation, that his right was not hereditary, but by effusion of blood, and loss of many lives.  
Who him a daughter brought, 
c Histor. cadomen's.  which heaven did strangely spare.  
After composition of French troubles Hen. I returning into England, the Ship, wherein his sons William and Richard were, twixt Barbefleu and Southampton was cast away, so that heaven only spared him this issue Maude the Empress, married, at last, to Geffrey Plantagenest Earl of Anjou, 
Plantagenest.  from whom in a continued race through Hen. II. (son to this Maude) until Rich. III. that most Noble surname possessed the royal Throne of England.    

  

The fifth Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
In this Song, Severne gives the doom  
What of her Lundy should become▪  
And whilst the nimble Cambrian Rills  
Dance Hy-day-gies amongst the Hills,  
The Muse them to Carmarden brings;  
Where Merlin's wondrous birth she sings.  
From thence to Pembroke she doth make,  
To see how Milford state doth take:  
The scattered islands there doth tell:  
And, visiting Saint David's Cell,  
Doth sport her all the shores along,  
Preparing the ensuing Song.  
NOw Sabrine, as a Queen, miraculously fair,  
Is absolutely placed in her Imperial Chair  
Of Crystal richly wrought, that gloriously did shine,  
Her Grace becoming well, a creature so Divine:  
And as her Godlike self, so glorious was her Throne,  
In which himself to sit great Neptune had been known;  
Whereon there were engraved those Nymphs the God had woo'd,  
And every several shape wherein for love he sued;  
Each daughter, her estate and beauty, every son;  
What Nations he had ruled, what Countries he had won.  
No Fish in this wide waste but with exceeding cost  
Was there in antic work most curiously embossed.  
She, in a watchet weed, with many a curious wave,  
Which as a princely gift great Amphitrite gave;  
Whose skirts were to the knee, with Coral fringed below  
To grace her goodly steps. And where she meant to go,  
The path was strewed with Pearl: which though they Orient were,  
Yet scarce known from her feet, they were so wondrous clear:  
To whom the Mermaids hold her Glass, that she may see  
Before all other Floods how far her beauties be:  
Who was by Nereus taught, the most profoundly wise,  
That learned her the skill of hidden Prophecies,  
By Thetis special care; as 
a Chiron brought up Achilles, son to Thetis.  Chiron erst had done  
To that proud bane of Troy, her god-resembling son.  
For her wise censure now, whilst every listening Flood  
(When reason somewhat cooled their late distempered mood)  
Enclosed Severne in; before this mighty rout,  
She sitting well prepared, with countenance grave and stout,  
Like some great learned judge, to end a weighty Cause,  
Well furnished with the force of Arguments and Laws,  
And every special proof that justly may be brought;  
Now with a constant brow, a firm and settled thought,  
And at the point to give the last and final doom:  
The people crowding near within the pestered room,  
A slow, soft murmuring moves amongst the wondering throng,  
As though with open ears they would devour his tongue:  
So Severne bore herself, and silence so she wan,  
When to th'assembly thus she seriously began;  
My near and loved Nymphs, good hap ye both betide:  
Well Britan's have ye sung; you English, well replied:  
Which to succeeding times shall memorise your stories  
To either Country's praise, as both your endless glories.  
And from your listening ears, sith vain it were to hold  
What all-appointing Heaven will plainly shall be told,  
Both gladly be you pleased: for thus the Powers reveal,  
That when the Norman Line in strength shall lastly fail  
(Fate limiting the time) th'ancient Britain race  
Shall come again to sit upon the sovereign place.  
A branch sprung out of Brute, th'imperial top shall get,  
Which grafted in the stock of great Plantagenet,  
The Stem shall strongly wax, as still the Trunk doth wither:  
That power which bore it thence, again shall bring it thither  
By Tudor, with fair winds from little Britain driven,  
§. To whom the goodly Bay of Milford shall be given;  
As thy wise Prophets, Wales, foretold his wished arrive,  
§. And how Lewellins Line in him should doubly thrive.  
For from his issue sent to Albany before,  
Where his neglected blood, his virtue did restore,  
He first unto himself in fair succession gained  
The Stewards nobler name; and afterward attained  
The royal Scottish wreath, upholding it in state.  
This Stem, to 
b james the fourth, surnamed Steward, married Margaret, eldest daughter to Henry the 7. King of England.  Tudors joined (which thing all-powerful Fate  
So happily produced out of that prosperous Bed,  
Whose marriages conjoined the White-rose and the Red)  
Suppressing every Plant, shall spread itself so wide,  
As in his arms shall clip the I'll on every side.  
By whom three severed Realms in one shall firmly stand,  
As Britain-founding Brute first Monarchized the Land:  
And Cornwall, for that thou no longer shalt contend,  
But to old Cambria cleave, as to thy ancient friend,  
Acknowledge thou thy Brood, of Brutus' high blood to be;  
And what hath happed to her, the like t'have chanced to thee;  
The Britain's to receive, when Heaven on them did lower,  
Loegria forced to leave; who from the Saxons power  
Themselves in Deserts, Creeks, and Mount'nous wastes bestowed,  
Or where the fruitless Rocks could promise them a●oad:  
Why strive ye then for that, in little time that shall  
(As you are all made one) be one unto you all;  
Then take my final doom pronounced lastly, 〈◊〉;  
That Lundy like allied to Wales and England is.  
Each part most highly pleased, then up the Session broke:  
When to the learned Maids again Invention spoke;  
O ye Pegasian Nymphs, that hating viler things;  
Delight in lofty Hills, and in delicious Springs,  
That on Piërus borne, and named of the place,  
The Thracian Pimpla love, 
The seats of the Muses.  and ●indus often grace;  
In aganippa's Fount, and in Castalia's brims,  
That often have been known to bathe your crystal limbs,  
Conduct me through these Brooks, and with a fastened clue,  
Direct me in my course, to take a perfect view  
Of all the wandering Streams, in whose entransing gires,  
Wise Nature oft herself her workmanship admires  
(So manifold they are, with such Meanders wound,  
As may with wonder seem invention to confound)  
That to those British names, untaught the ear to please,  
Such relish I may give in my delicious lays,  
That all the armed Orks of Neptune's grisly Band,  
With music of my verse, amazed may listening stand;  
As when his Triton's trumps do them to battle call  
Within his surging lists to combat with the Whale.  
Thus, have we over-gone the Glamorganian Gowre,  
Whose Promontory (placed to check the Ocean's power)  
Kept Severne yet herself, till being grown too great,  
She with extended arms vnbounds her ancient seat: 
Severne, turned Sea.   
And turning lastly Sea, resigns unto the Maine  
What sovereignty herself but lately did retain.  
Next, Loghor leads the way, who with a lusty crew  
(Her wild and wandering steps that ceaselessly pursue)  
Still forward is enforced: as, Amond thrusts her on,  
And Morlas (as a maid she much relies upon)  
Entreats her present speed assuring her withal,  
Her best-beloved I'll, Bachannis, for her fall,  
Stands specially prepared, of every thing supplied.  
When Guendra with such grace deliberately doth glide  
As Tovy doth entice: who setteth out prepared  
At all points like a Prince, attended with a Guard:  
Of which, as by her name, the nearest to her of kin  
Is Toothy, tripping down from Verwins rushy 
a A Poole or watery Moor.  Lin,  
Through Rescob running out, with Pescover to meet  
Those Rills that Forest loves; and doth so kindly greet,  
As to entreat their stay she gladly would prevail.  
Then Tranant nicely treads upon the watery trail:  
The lively skipping Brane, along with Gwethrick goes;  
In Tovies wandering banks themselves that scarcely loose,  
But Mudny, with Gledaugh, and Sawthy, soon resort,  
Which at Langaddock grace their Sovereign's watery Court.  
As when the servile world some gathering man espies,  
Whose thriving fortune shows, he to much wealth may rise,  
And through his Prince's grace his followers may prefer,  
Or by revenue left by some dead ancestor;  
All lowting low to him, him humbly they observe,  
And happy is that man his nod that may deserve:  
To Tovy so they stoop, to them upon the way  
Which thus disp●●ies the Spring within their view that lay.  
near Denevoir▪ the seat of the 
* Of South-wales.  Demetian King  
Whilst Cambria was herself, full, strong, and flourishing,  
There is a pleasant Spring, 
b Ebbing and flowing with the Sea.  that constant doth abide  
Hard-by these winding shores wherein we nimbly slide;  
Long of the Ocean loved, since his victorious hand  
First proudly did insult upon the conquered Land.  
And though a hundred Nymphs in fair Demetia be,  
Whose features might allure the Sea-gods more than she,  
His fancy takes her form, and her he only likes  
(Who ere knew half the shafts wherewith blind Cupid strikes?)  
Which great and constant faith, show'd by the God of Sea,  
This clear and lovely Nymph so kindly doth repay,  
As suffering for his sake what love to Lover owes,  
With him she sadly ebbs, with him she proudly flows,  
To him her secret vows perpetually doth keep,  
Observing every Law and custom of the Deep.  
Now Tovy towa'rd her fall (Langaddock over-gon)  
Her Dulas forward drives: and Cothy coming on  
The train to overtake, the nearest way doth cast  
E'er she Carmarden get: where Gwilly, making haste,  
Bright Tovy entertains at that most famous Town  
Which her great Prophet bred who Wales doth so renown:  
And taking her a Harp, and tuning well the strings,  
To Princely Tovy thus she of the Prophet sings;  
Of Merlin and his skill what Region doth not hear? 
Merlin, borne in Carmarthen.   
The world shall still be full of Merlin every where.  
A thousand linger years his prophecies have run,  
And scarcely shall have end till Time itself be done:  
Who of a British Nymph was gotten, whilst she played  
With a seducing Spirit, which won the goodly maid;  
(As all Demetia through, there was not found her peer)  
Who, being so much renowned for beauty far and near,  
Great Lords her liking sought, but still in vain they proved:  
§. That Spirit (to her unknown) this Virgin only loved;  
Which taking human shape, of such perfection seemed,  
As (all her Suitors scorned) she only him esteemed.  
Who, feigning for her sake that he was come from far,  
And richly could endow (a lusty Bachelor)  
On her that Prophet got, which from his Mother's womb  
Of things to come foretold until the general Doom.  
But, of his feigned birth in sporting idly thus,  
Suspect me not, that I this dreamt Incubus  
By strange opinions should licentiously subsist;  
Or, self-conceited, play the humorous Platonist,  
Which boldly dares affirm, that Spirits, themselves supply  
With bodies, to commix with frail mortality,  
And here allow them place, beneath this lower Sphere  
Of the unconstant Moon; to tempt us daily here.  
Some, earthly mixture take; as others, which aspire,  
Them subtler shapes resume, of water, air, and fire,  
Being those immortals long before the heaven, that fell,  
Whose deprivation thence, determined their hell:  
And losing through their pride that place to them assigned,  
Predestined that was to man's regenerate kind,  
They, for th'inveterate hate to his Election, still  
Desist not him to tempt to every damned ill:  
And to seduce the spirit, oft prompt the frailer blood,  
Invegling it with tastes of counterfeited good,  
And teach it all the sleights the Soul that may excite  
To yield up all her power unto the appetite.  
And to those curious wits if we ourselves apply,  
Which search the gloomy shades of deep Philosophy,  
They Reason so will cloth, as well the mind can show,  
That contrary effects, from contraries may grow;  
And that the soul a shape so strongly may conceit,  
As to herself the-while may seem it to create;  
By which th'abused Sense more easily oft is led  
To think that it enjoys the thing imagined.  
But, toiled in these dark tracts with sundry doubts replete,  
Calm shades, and cooler streams must quench this furious heat:  
Which seeking, soon we find where Cowen in her course,  
Towards the Sabrinian shores, as sweeping from her source,  
Takes Towa, calling then Karkenny by the way,  
Her through the wayless woods of Cardisse to convey;  
A Forest, with her floods environed so about,  
That hardly she restrains th'unruly watery rout,  
When swelling, they would seem her Empire to invade:  
And oft the lustful Fawns and satires from her shade  
Were by the streams enticed, abode with them to make.  
Then Morlas meeting Taw, her kindly in doth take:  
Cair coming with the rest, their watery tracts that tread,  
Increase the Cowen all; that as their general head  
Their largesse doth receive, to bear out his expense:  
Who to vast Neptune leads this Courtly confluence.  
To the 
a Passage into Penbrokeshire  Penbrokian parts the Muse her still doth keep,  
Upon that utmost point to the Iberian Deep,  
By Cowdra coming in: where clear delightful air,  
(That Forests most affect) doth welcome her repair;  
The Heliconian Maids in pleasant groves delight:  
(Floods cannot still content their wanton appetite)  
And wandering in the woods, the neighbouring hills below,  
With wise Apollo meet (who with his Ivory bow  
Once in the paler shades, the Serpent Python slew)  
And hunting oft with him, the heartless Deer pursue;  
Those beams then laid aside he used in heaven to wear.  
Another Forest Nymph is Narber, standing near;  
That with her curled top her neighbour would astounded,  
Whose Groves once bravely graced the fair Penbrokian ground,  
When Albion here beheld on this extended land,  
Amongst his wel-growne Woods, the shag-haird Satyrs stand  
(The Syluans chief resort) the shores then sitting high,  
Which under water now so many fathoms lie:  
And wallowing Porpice sport and lord it in the flood,  
Where once the portly Oak, and large-limbed Poplar stood:  
Of all the forests kind these two now only left.  
But Time, as guilty since to man's insatiate theft,  
Transferred the English names of Towns and households hither,  
With the industrious Dutch since sojourning together.  
When wrathful heaven the clouds so liberally bestowed,  
The Seas (then wanting roomth to lay their boisterous load)  
Upon the Belgian Marsh their pampered stomachs cast,  
That peopled Cities sank into the mighty waist.  

The colony of Flemings here planted. See to the IV. Song.  The Flemings were enforced to take them to their Oars,  
To try the Setting Main to find out firmer shores;  
When as this spacious I'll them entrance did allow,  
To plant the Belgian stock upon this goodly brow:  
These Nations, that their tongues did naturally affect,  
Both generally forsook the British Dialect:  
As when it was decreed by all-fore-dooming Fate,  
That ancient Rome should stoop from her imperious state,  
With Nations from the North then altogether fraught,  
Which to her civil bounds their barbarous customs brought,  
Of all her ancient spoils and lastly be forlorn,  
From Tiber's hallowed banks to old 
a Now Constantinople.  Byzantium borne:  
Th'abundant Latin then old Latium lastly left,  
Both of her proper form and elegancy rest;  
Before her smoothest tongue, their speech that did prefer,  
And in her tables fixed their ill-shaped Character.  
A divination strange the Dutch made-English have,  
Appropriate to that place (as though some Power it gave)  
§. By th'shoulder of a Ram from off the right side pared,  
Which usually they boil, the spade-boane being barred:  
Which than the Wizard takes, and gazing thereupon,  
Things long to come foreshows, as things done long agone;  
Scapes secretly at home, as those abroad, and far;  
Murders, adulterous stealths, as the events of war,  
The reigns and death of Kings they take on them to know:  
Which only to their skill the shoulder-blade doth show.  
You goodly sister Floods, how happy is your state!  
Or should I more commend your features, or your Fate;  
That Milford, which this Isle her greatest Port doth call  
Before your equal Floods is lotted to your Fall!  
Where was sail ever seen, or wind hath ever blown,  
Whence Pembroke yet hath heard of Haven like her own?  
She bids Dungleddy dare 
* Spain.  Iberia's proudest Road,  
And chargeth her to send her challenges abroad  
Along the coast of France, to prove if any be  
Her Milford that dare match: so absolute is she.  
And Clethy coming down from Wrenyvaur her Sire  
(A hill that thrusts his head into th'aetherial fire)  
Her sister's part doth take, and dare avouch as much:  
And Percily the proud, whom nearly it doth touch,  
Said, he would bear her out; and that they all should know.  
And therewithal he struts, as though he scorned to show  
His head below the Heaven, when he of Milford spoke:  
But there was not a Port the prize durst undertake.  
So highly Milford is in every mouth renowned,  
No Haven hath aught good, in her that is not found:  
Whereas the swelling surge, that with his foamy head,  
The gentler looking Land with fury menaced,  
With his encountering wave no longer there contends;  
But sitting mildly down like perfect ancient friends,  
Unmoved of any wound which way so ere it blow,  
And rather seem to smile, then knit an angry brow.  
The ships with shattered ribs scarce creeping from the Seas,  
On her sleek bosom ride with such deliberate ease,  
As all her passed storms she holds but mean and base,  
So she may reach at length this most delightful place,  
By nature with proud Cleeves environed about,  
§. To crown the goodly Road: where builds the Falcon stout,  
Which we the Gentle call; whose fleet and active wings,  
It seems that Nature made when most she thought on Kings:  
Which managed to the lure, her high and gallant flight,  
The vacant sportful man so greatly doth delight,  
That with her nimble quills his soul doth seem to hover,  
And lie the very pitch that lusty Bird doth cover;  
That those proud Airies, bred whereas the scorching sky  

The places from whence the highest flying Hawks are brought.  Doth singe the sandy Wyldes of spicefull Barbary;  
Or underneath our Pole, where Norway's Forests wide  
Their high clowd-touching heads in Winter snows do hide,  
Outbrave not this our kind in mettle, nor exceed  
The Falcon, which sometimes the British Cleeves do breed:  
Which prey upon the Isles in the Vergivian waste,  
That from the British shores by Neptune are embraced;  
Which stem his furious Tides when wildliest they do rave,  
And break the big-swollen bulk of many a boisterous wave:  
As, calm when he becomes, than likewise in their glory  
Do cast their amorous eyes at many a Promontory  
That thrust their foreheads forth into the smiling South;  
As Rat and Sheepy, 
The islands upon the point of Penbrooke-shire.  set to keep calm Milfords' mouth,  
Exposed to Neptune's power. So Gresholme far doth stand:  
Scalme, Stockholme, with Saint Bride, and Gatholme, nearer land  
(Which with their veinie breasts entice the gods of Sea,  
That with the lusty Isles do revel every day)  
As Crescent-like the Land her breadth here inward bends,  
From Milford, which she forth to old Menevia sends;  
Since, holy David's seat; which of especial grace  
Doth lend that nobler name, to this unnobler place.  
Of all the holy men whose fame so fresh remains,  
To whom the Britan's built so many sumptuous Fanes,  
This Saint before the rest their Patron still they hold:  
§. Whose birth, their ancient Bards to Cambria long foretold;  
And seated here a See, his Bishopric of yore,  
Upon the farthest point of this unfruitful shore;  
Selected by himself, that far from all resort  
With contemplation seemed most fitly to comport;  
That, void of all delight, cold, barren, bleak, and dry,  
No pleasure might allure, nor steal the wandering eye:  
Where Ramsey with those Rocks, in rank that ordered stand  
Upon the furthest point of David's ancient Land,  
Do raise their rugged heads (the Seaman's noted marks)  
Called, of their mitred tops, The Bishop and his Clerks;  
Into that Channel cast, whose raging current roars  
Betwixt the British Sands, and the Hibernian shores:  
Whose grim and horrid face doth pleased heaven neglect,  
And bears bleak Winter still in his more sad aspect:  
Yet Gwin and Nevern near, two fine and fishfull brooks,  
Do never stay their course, how stern so ere he looks;  
Which with his shipping once should seem to have commerst,  
Where Fiscard as her flood, doth only grace the first.  
To Newport falls the next: there we a while will rest;  
Our next ensuing Song to wondrous things addressed.  

Illustrations.  
If you ever read of, or vulgarly understand, the form of the Ocean, and affinity twixt it and Rivers, you cannot but conceive this Poetical description of Seuern●; wherein Amphitrite is supposed to have given her a precious rob: very proper in the matter-selfe, and imitating that 
a Iliad. ●. etc. ●. Odyss. ●.  Father of the Muses which derives Agamemnon's Sceptre to him by descent joined with gift from jupiter, Achilles' armour from Vulcan's bounty, Helen's Nepenthe from the Egyptian Polydamna, and such like, honouring the possessor with the givers judgement, as much as with the gift possessed.  
To whom the goodly Bay of Milford should be given.  
At Milford haven arrived Henry Earl of Richmont, aided with some forces and sums of money by the French Charles VIII. but so entertained and strengthened by divers of his friends, groaning under the tyrannical yoke of Rich. III. that, beyond expectation, at Bosworth in Leicester, the day and Crown was soon his. Every Chronicle tells you more largely▪  
And how Lhewelins' line in him should doubly thrive.  
Turn to the Eagles prophecies in the II. Song, where the first part of this relation is more manifested. For the rest, thus: About our Confessors time Macbeth 
b Hector Boet. lib. 12. et Buchanan. in reg. 85. & 86. lib. 7. qui eosdem aevo citeriori Stuartos ait dictos, quos olim Thanos nuncupabant. Than● verò quaestores erant regij per interpretationem, uti Boetius. Certè in Charta illa quâ iure cliente●ari se Henrico II. obstrina●t Wilhelmus Scotorun Rex, leguntur inter testes W●●●elmus de Curcy Seneschaellus, Willielmus Filius Aldelmi Seneschallus, Al●redus de Sancto Martino Seneschallus, Gilbertus Malet Seneschallus, unde honorarium fuisse hoc nomen paret. horum bini desunt apud Hovedenum verum ex vetufliss. Anonymon●s. excerpsi.  K. of Scotland (moved by predictions, affirming that, his line extinct, the posterity of Banqhuo a noble Thane of Loqhuabrie should attain and continue the Scotish reign) and jealous of others hoped for greatness, murdered Banqhuo, but missed his d●signe▪ for, one of the same posterity, Fleanch son to Banqhuo, privily fled to Gryffith ap Lhe●el●● then Prince of Wales, and was there kindly received. To him and Nesta the Prince's daughter was issue one Walter. He (afterward for his worth favourably accepted, and through stout performance honourably requited by Malcolmb III.) was made L. high Stewart of Scotland; out of whose loins Robert two▪ was derived: since whom that royal name hath long continued, descending to our mighty Sovereign, & in him is joined with the commixed Kingly blood of Tyddour and Plantagenest. These two were united, with the 
* York and Lancaster  white and red Roses, in those auspicious nuptials of Henry the VII. and Elizabeth daughter to Edward IV.) and from them, through the Lady Margaret their eldest daughter, married to james the IV. his majesties descent and spacious Empire observed easily shows you what the Muse here plays withal. The rest alludes to that; Cambria shall be glad, Cornwall shall flourish, and the Isle shall be styled with Brutus' name, and the name of strangers shall perish: as it is in Merlin's prophecies.  
That Spirit to her unknown this Virgin only loved.  
So is the vulgar tradition of Merlin's conception. Untimely it were, if I should slip into discourse of spirits faculties in this kind. For my own part, unless there be some creatures of such middle nature, as the Rabbinique, 
a Rabbi Abraham in Zerror Hammor ap. Munst. ad 2. Genes.  conceit upon the creation suppose●; and the same with Hesiods Nymphs, or Paracelsus his Non-adams, I shall not believe that other then true bodies on bodies can generate, except by swiftness of mo●●on in conveying of stolen seed some unclean spirit might arrogat the improper name of generation. Those which S. Augustine 
b Lib. 15. de Ciu. Dei cap. 23.  calls 
* Forte Drusij (quod vult Bodinui lib. 2. cap. 7. daemonoman.) quasi Syluani. aut dryads.  Dusij, in Gaul, altogether addicted to such filthiness, Fauns, Satyrs and Syluans have had as much attributed to them. But learn of this, from Divines upon the Beni-haelobim 
c Gen. 6.2.  in holy Writ, passages of the Fathers upon this point, and the later authors of disquisitions in Magic and Sorcery, as Bodin, wire, Martin del Rio, others. For this Merlin (rather Mordbin, as you see to the IV. Song, his true name being Ambrose) his own answer to Vortigern was, that his father was a Roman 
d Illustres saepiùs viros indigetant historici nostri consuls, unde et Aetium adloquuntur Saxone● Co●, quem ta●●tsi Consulem fuisse haut asserent Fasti, illustriss. tu. & in republicâ nobilissimum Procopij aliorumque historiae Gothicae pr●dunt.  Consul (so Nennius informs me) as perhaps it might be, and the fact palliated under name of a spirit, as in that of Ilia supposing, to save her credit, the name of Mars for Romulus his Father. But to interlace the polite Muse with what is more harsh, yet even therein perhaps not displeasing, I offer you this antic passage of him. 
— the messengers to Kermerdin come  
And how children bivore the gate pleyde hit took gome  
though seed 
* Durbitius dictus Galfredo.  on to another, Merlin what is she  
Thou faderlese 
* Shrew now a word applied to the shrewish sex, but in Chaucer, Lidgat, and Go●er to the quieter also.  shrew, wy misdost●u me  

See to the x. Song.  Uor icham of kings icome and thou nart naught worth a fill  
Uor thou naddest never nanne father, therevore hold the still  
though the messengers hurde this hi● a stunte there  
And ess●e at men about what the child were  
Me seed that he ne had never father that me might understand  
And is mother an King's daughter was of thulke land  
And woned at S. Petres in a nunnery there.  His mother (a Nun, daughter to Pubidius K. of Mathraual, and called Matilda, as by 
e Spenc●rs Fa●ry Q. lib. 3. cant. 3.  Poetical authority only I find justifiable) and he being brought to the King, she colour's it in these words: 
— when ich oft was  
In chambre mid mine fellows, there come to me by case  
A suithe vair man mid all, and by clupt me well soft,  
And semblance made vaire ynou, and cust me well oft.  and tells on the story which should follow so kind a preface. But enough of this.  

Osteomantie.  By th' shoulder of a Ram from off the right side pared.  

— Quae te dementia c●pit Qu●rere sollicitè quod rep●rire tim●s. Th. Mor. Epig.  Take this as a taste of their art in old time. Under Hen. II. one William Mangunel 
f Girald. Itin. 1. cap. 11.  a Gentleman of those parts finding by his skill of predicton that his wife had played false with him, and conceived by his own Nephew, formally dresses the shoulder-bone of one of his own Rams; and sitting at dinner (pretending it to be taken out of his neighbour's flock) requests his wife (equalling him in these divinations) to give her judgement; she curiously observes▪ and at last with great laughter casts it from her: the Gentleman, importuning her reanson of so vehement an affection, receives answer of her, that, his wife, out of whose flock the Ram was taken, had by incestuous copulation with her husband's Nephew fraughted herself with a young one. Lay all together, and judge, Gentlewomen, the sequel of this cross accident. But why she could not as well divine of whose flock it was, as the other secret, when I have more skill in Osteomantie, I will tell you. Nor was their report less in knowing things to come, then past; so that jealous Panurge in his doubt 
* Of Cuckoldry. Rabelais.  de la Coquage might here have had other manner of resolution than Rondibilis, Hippothade, Br●doye, Trovillogan, or the Oracle itself, were able to give him. Blame me not, in that, to explain my author, I insert this example.  
To crown the goodly road, where built that Falcon stout.  
In the rocks of this maritime coast of Penbroke are Eiries of excellent Falcons. H●nry the II. here passing into Ireland, cast off a Norway Go●hauke a● one of these: but the goshawk taken at the source by the Falcon, 
Hawks.  soon fell down at the King's foot, which performance in this Ramage, made him yearly afterward send hither for Eye●ses, as Girald is author. Whether these here are the Haggarts (which they call Peregrin's) or Falcon-gentles, I am no such Falconer to argue; but this I know, that the reason of the name of Peregrin's is given, for that they come from remote 
b Albert. de Animal. 23. cap. 8.  and unknown places, and therefore hardly fits these: but also I read in no less than Imperial 
c Frederic. II. lib. 2. de arte Venand. cap. 4.  authority, that Peragrins never bred in less latitude then beyond the VII. climate Dia Riphaeos, which permits them this place▪ and that, of true Falcons gentle an Eiry is never found but in a more Southern and hotter parallel: which (if it be true) excludes the name of Gentle from ours, breeding near the IX. Per Rostochium. And the same authority makes them (against common opinion) both of one kind, differing rather in local and outward accidents, then in selfe-nature.  
Whose birth the ancient Bards to Cambria long foretold.  
Of S. Dewy and his bishopric you have more to the fourth Song. He was prognosticated 
d Monument. lib. 8. cap. 8. Girald. Itin. 2. cap. 1. Bal. cent. 1. Vita S. Dewy.  above XXX. years before his birth; which with other attributed miracles (after the fashion of that credulous age) caused him be almost paralleled in Monkish zeal with that holy john which, unborn, sprang at presence of the incarnate Author of our redemption. The translation of the Archbishoprique was also 
e Alan. de insul. 1. ad Proph. Merlin.  foretold in that of Merlin: Menevia shall put on the pall of Caer-●eon; and the Preacher of Ireland shall wax dumb by an infant growing in the womb. That was performed when S. Patrique at presence of Melaria then with child suddenly lost use of his speech; but recovering it after some time made prediction of Dewies holiness, joined with greatness, which is so celebrated. Upon my Author's credits only believe me.    

  

The sixth Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
With Cardigan the Muse proceeds,  
And tells what rare things Tivy breeds:  
Next, proud Plynillimon she plies;  
Where Severne, Why, and Rydoll rise.  
With Severne she along doth go,  
Her Metamorphosis to show;  
And makes the wandering Why declaim  
In honour of the British name:  
Than m●sters all the watery train  
That those two Rivers entertain:  
And viewing how those Rillets creep  
From shore to the Vergivian Deep,  
By Radnor and Mountgomery then  
To Severne turns her course again:  
And bringing all their Riverets in,  
There ends; a new Song to begin.  
Sigh I must stem thy Stream, clear Tivy, yet before  
The Muse vouchsafe to s●ise the Cardiganian shore,  
She of thy source will sing in all the Cambrian coast;  
Which of thy Castor's once, but now canst only boast  
The Salmon, of all Floods most plentiful in thee.  
Dear Brook, within thy Banks if any Powers there be;  
Then Neiads, or ye Nymphs of their like watery kind  
(Unto whose only care, great Neptune hath assigned  
The guidance of those Brooks wherein he takes delight)  
Assist her: and whilst she your dwelling shall recite,  
Be present in her work: set her your grace's view,  
That to succeeding times them lively she may show;  
As when great Albion's sons, which him a Sea-Nymph brought  
Amongst the grisly Rocks, were with your beauties caught  
(Whose only love surprised those of the 
a Giant's  Phlegrian size,  
The Titan●is, that once against high Heaven durst rise)  
When as the hoary woods, the climbing hills did hide,  
And covered every Vale through which you gently glide;  
Even for those inly heats which through your loves they felt,  
That oft in kindly tears did in your bosoms melt,  
To view your secret Bowers, such favour let her win.  
Then Tivy cometh down from her capacious Li●,  
Twixt Murky and Brenny led, two handmaids, that do stay  
Their Mistress▪ as in State she goes upon her way.  
Which when Lanbeder sees, her wondrously she likes:  
Whose untamed bosom so the beauteous Tivy strikes,  
As that the Forest fain would have her there abide.  
But she (so pure a stream) transported with her pride  
The offer idly scorns; though with her flattering shade  
The Sylvan her entice with all that may persuade  
A water-Nymph; yea, though great Thetis●elfe ●elfe she were:  
But nothing might prevail, nor all the pleasures there  
Her mind could ever move one minutes sta●e to make.  
Mild Mathern then, the next, doth Tivy overtake:  
Which instantly again by Dittor is supplied.  
Then, Keach and Kerry help: twixt which on either side,  
To Cardigan she comes, the Sovereign of the Shere.  
Now Tivy let us tell thy sundry glories here.  
When as the Salmon seeks a fresher stream to find  
(Which hither from the Sea comes yearly by his kind,  
As he in season grows) and stems the watery tract  
Where Tivy falling down, doth make a 
* Falling of water.  Cataract,  
Forced by the rising Rocks that there her course oppose,  
As though within their bounds they meant her to enclose;  
here, when the labouring Fish doth at the foot arrive,  
And finds that by his strength but vainly he doth strive,  
His tail takes in his teeth; and bending like a bow,  
That's to the compass drawn, aloft himself doth throw▪  
Than springing at his height▪ as doth a little wand,  
That bended end to end, and fler●ed from the hand,  
far off itself doth cast; so doth the Salmon ●●ut.  
And if at first he fail, his second 
a The word in tumbling, when one casteth himself over and over.  Summersau●  
He instantly assays; and from his nimble Ring▪  
Still yarking, never leaves, until himself he f●●ng,  
Above the streamefull top of the surrounded heap.  
More famous long agone, then for the Salmon leap,  
For Bevers Tivy was, in her strong banks that bred,  
Which else no other Brook of Britain nourished:  
Where Nature, in the shape of this now-perisht beast  
His property did seem t'have wondrously expressed;  
Being bodied like a Boat, with such a mighty tail  
As served him for a bridge, a helm, or for a sail,  
When Kind did him command the Architect to play,  
That his strong Castle built of branched twigs and clay:  
Which, set upon the Deep, but yet not fixed there,  
He easily could remove as it he ple●●'d to steer  
To this side or to that; the workmanship so rare,  
His stuff wherewith to build, first being to prepare,  
A foraging he goes, to Groves or bushes ●ie,  
And with his teeth cut● down his Timber: which laid-by,  
He turns him on his back, his belly laid abroad,  
When with what he hath got, the other do him load,  
Till lastly by the weight, his burden he have found.  
Then, with his mighty tail his carriage having bound  
As Carters do with rope●, in his sharp teeth he gripped  
Some stronger stick: from which the lesser branches stripped,  
He takes it in the midst; at both the ends▪ the rest  
Hard holding with their fangs, unto the labour priest,  
Going backward, towards their home their loaded carriage led,  
From whom, those first here borne, were taught the useful Sled.  
Then builded he his Fort with strong and several fights▪  
His passages contrived with such unusual sleights,  
That from the Hunter oft he issued undiscerned,  
As if men from this Beast to fortify had learned;  
§. Whose Kind, in he● decayed, is to this I'll unknown.  
Thus Tivy boasts this Beast peculiarly her own.  
But here why spend ●ume these trifles to a r●ed?  
Now, with thy former ●aske my M●se again proceed,  
To show the other Floods from the 
a Of Cardigan.  Cere●tick shore  
To the Verginian Sea contributing their store:  
With Bidder first begin, that bendeth all her force  
The Arron to assist, Arthur holding on her course  
The way the other went, with Weary which doth win  
Fair Istwid to her aid▪ who kindly coming in,  
Meets Rydoll at her mouth, that 〈◊〉 and princess maid,  
Plynillimons dear child, deliciously afraid,  
As fits a Nymph so near to Severne and her Queen.  
Then come the sister 〈◊〉 as they before had seen  
Those delicater Dames so trippingly to read:  
Then Kerry; Cletur next, and 〈◊〉 making head  
With Enion, that her 〈◊〉 c●eere 〈◊〉 brings by her.  
Plynillimons' high praise no longer Muse defer,  
What once the Druids told, how great those Floods should be  
That here (most mighty Hill) 〈◊〉 themselves from 〈◊〉.  
The Bards with fury rap●, the British youth among,  
§. Unto the charming Harp thy future honour song  
In brave and lofty straine●; that in excess of joy,  
The Beldame and the Girl, the Grand●●re and the Boy,  
With shouts and yearning cries, the troubled air did load  
(As when with crowned cups unto the 
a Bacchus.  Elian God  
Those Priests his Orgies held▪ or when the old world saw  
Full Phoebe's face eclipsed, and thinking her to daw,  
Whom they supposed fal●e in some enchanted swoon,  
Of beaten tinkling Brass still plied her with the sound)  
That all the Cambrian hills, which highest their heads do bear  
With most obsequious shows of low subjecteth fear,  
Should to thy greatness stoop: and all the Brooks that be,  
Do homage to those Floods that issued out of thee:  
To princely Severne first; next, to her sister Wy●,  
Which to her elders Court her course doth still apply.  
But Rydoll, youngest, and least, and for the others pride  
Not finding fitting roomth upon the rising side,  
Alone unto the West directly takes her way.  
So all the neighbouring Hills Plynillimon obey.  
For, though Moylo●dian bear his craggy top so high,  
As scorning all that come in compass of his eye,  
Yet greatly is he pleased Plynillimon will grace  
Him with a cheerful look: and fawning in his face,  
His love to Severne shows us though his own she were,  
Thus comforting the Flood; O ever-during heir  

The story of Sever●●.  Of Sabrine, Locryns child (who of her life bereft,  
Her everliving name to thee fair River left)  
Brutus' first begotten son, which Gwendeli● did wed;  
But soon th'unconstant Lord abandoned her bed  
(Through his unchaste desire) for beauteous El●treds love▪  
Now, that which most of all her mighty heart did move,  
Her Father, Cornwall's Duke, great Corineus dead,  
Was by the lustful King unjustly banished▪  
When she, who to that time still with a smoothed brow  
Had seemed to bear the breach of Locrine's former vow,  
Perceiving still her wrongs insufferable w●re;  
Grown big with the revenge which her full breast did bear,  
And aided to the birth with every little breath  
(Alone she being left the spoil of love and death,  
In labour of her grief outrageously distracted,  
The utmost of her spleen on her false Lord to act)  
She first implores their aid● no hat● him whom she found▪  
Whose hearts unto the depth she had not left to sound.  
To Cornwall then she sends her Country) for supplies▪  
Which all at over in Arms with Gwend●lin arise.  
Then with her warlike power, her husband she pursued,  
Whom his unlawful love too vainly did delude.  
The fierce and jealous Queen, then void of all remorse,  
As great in power or spirit, whilst he neglects her force,  
Him suddenly surprised, and from her ireful heart  
All pity clean exiled (whom nothing could convert)  
The son of mighty Brute bereaved of his life;  
Amongst the Britan's here the first intestine strife,  
Since they were put a land upon this promised shore.  
Then crowning Madan King, whom she to Locrine bore,  
And those which served his Sire to his obedience brought;  
Not so with blood sufficed, immediately she sought  
The mother and the child: whose beauty when she saw,  
Had not her heart been flint, had had the power to draw  
A spring of pitying tears; when, dropping liquid pearl,  
Before the cruel Queen, the Lady and the Girl  
Upon their tender knees begged mercy. Woe for thee  
Fair Elstred, that thou shouldst thy fairer Sabrine see,  
As she should thee behold the prey to her stern rage  
Whom kingly L●●rius death sufficed not to assuage:  
Who from the bordering Cleeves thee with thy Mother cast  
Into thy christened Flood, the whilst the Rocks aghast  
Resounded with your shrieks; till in a deadly dream  
Your corpses were dissolved into that crystal stream,  
Your curls to curled waves, which plainly still appear  
The same in water ●ow, that once in locks they were:  
And, as you wont to clip each others neck before,  
Ye now with liquid arms embrace the windering shore.  
But leave we Severne here, a little on pursue,  
The often wandering Wye (her passage● to view,  
As wantonly she strains in her lascivious course)  
And muster every flood that from her bounteous source  
Attends upon her Stream, whilst (as the famous bound  
Twixt the Brecknokia● earth, and the Radnorian ground)  
She every Brook receives▪ First, 〈◊〉 cometh in,  
With Cl●rwy: which to them their consort Eland win  
To aid their goodly Wye▪ which 〈◊〉 get● again▪  
She Dulas draws along: and in her wa●ry train  
Clow●d●●● hath recourse, and 〈◊〉, which she brings  
Unto their wandering flood from the Radnorian Springs:  
As Edwy her attends and 〈◊〉 forward heaven  
Her Mistress. When at last the goodly Wye perceives  
She 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 every way,  
From Severns bordering banks into the either Sea,  
Which she might term the ham. The ancient Britan's here  
The River calls to mind, and what those British were  
Whilst Britain was herself, the Queen of all the West.  
To whose old Nations praise whilst she herself addressed,  
From the Brecknokian bound when Irvon coming in,  
Her Dulas, with Commarch, and Wevery that doth win,  
Persuading her for them good matter to provide.  
The Wood-Nymphs so again, from the Radnorian side,  
As Radnor, with Blethaugh, and Knuckles Forests, call  
To Wye, and bade her now bestir her for them all:  
For, if she stuck not close in their distressed Case,  
The Britan's were in doubt to undergo disgrace.  
That strongly thus provoked, she for the Britan's says;  
What spirit can lift you up, to that immortal praise  
§. You worthily deserve? by whom first Gaul was taught  
Her knowledge: and for her, what Nation ever wrought  
The conquest you achieved? And, as you were most dread,  
So ye (before the rest) in so great reverence had  
Your Bards which sung your deeds, that when stern hosts have stood  
With lifted hands to strike (in their inflamed blood)  
§. One Bard but coming in, their murderous swords hath stayed;  
In her most dreadful voice as thundering heaven had said,  
Stay Britan's: when he spoke, his words so powerful were.  
So to her native Priests, the dreadless Druids here,  
The nearest neighbouring Gaul, that wisely could discern  
Th'effect their doctrine wrought, it for their good to learn,  
Her apt and pregnant Youth sent hither year by year,  
Instructed in our Rites with 〈◊〉 religious fear.  
And afterward again, when 〈◊〉 ancient fear  
Her surcrease could not keep, 〈◊〉 for her soil too great  
(But like to casting Bees, so rising v● in swarms)  
§. Our Cymbri with the Gauls, that their committed Arms  
Joined with the Germane powers (th●●● Nations of the North  
Which overspread the world) together issued forth:  
§. Where, with our brazen swords, we sto●●ly fought, and long;  
And after Conque●●● go●, residing them among,  
First planted in those parts our bra●e courageous b●ood:  
Whose natures so adhered unto their ancient blood,  
As from them spr●ng those Priest's, whose praise so far did sound,  
Through whom that spacious Gaul was after 〈◊〉  
Nor could the Saxons sword's (which many a lingering year  
Them sadly did afflict, and ●hat us Britan's he●re  
Twixt Severne and this Sea) our mighty mind● 〈◊〉;  
But that even they which 〈◊〉 our weakness would detect,  
Were forced to confess, our wildest beasts that ●●eed  
Upon our mighty waste●, or on our Mountaine● feed,  
Were far more sooner tamed, 〈◊〉 our Welshmen 〈◊〉▪  
Besides, in all the world ●o Na●ion is so dear.  
As they unto their own; that here within this I'll,  
Or else in foreign parts, yea●, 〈◊〉 to exile,  
The noble Britan still his countryman relieves;  
A Patriot, and so true, that it to death him grieves  
To hear his Wales disgraced: and on the Saxons swords  
Oft hazardeth his life, ere with reproachful words  
His Language or his Leek he'll stand to hear abused.  
Besides, the Britain is so naturally infused  
With true Poëtick rage, that in their 
a See to the fourth Song.  measures, Art  
Doth rather seem precise, then comely; in each part  
Their Metre most exact, in Verse of th'hardest kind.  
And some to rhyming be so wondrously inclined,  
Those Numbers they will hit, out of their genuine vain,  
Which many wise and learned can hardly creattaine.  
O memorable Bards, of unmixed blood, which still  
Posterity shall praise for your so wondrous skill,  
That in your noble Songs, the long Descents have kept  
Of your great Heroës, else in Lethe that had slept,  
With theirs whose ignorant pride your labours have disdained;  
How much from time, and them, how bravely have you gained!  
Musician, Herald, Bard, thrice mayst thou be renowned,  
And with three several wreaths immortally be crowned;  
Who, when to Pembroke called before the English King,  
And to thy powerful Harp commanded there to sing,  
Of famous Arthur told'st, and where he was interred;  
In which, those reckless times had long and blindly erred,  
And Ignorance had brought the world to such a pass  
As now, which scarce believes that Arthur ever was.  
But when King 
b Henry the second.  Henry sent th'reported place to view,  
He found that man of men: and what thou saidst was true.  
here than I cannot choose but bitterly exclaim  
Against those fools that all Antiquity defame,  
Because they have found out, some credulous Ages laid  
'Slight fictions with the truth, whilst truth on rumour stayed;  
And that one forward Time (perceiving the neglect  
A former of her had) to purchase her respect,  
With toys then trimmed her up, the drowsy world t'allure,  
And lent her what it thought might appetite procure  
To man, whose mind doth still variety pursue;  
And therefore to those things whose grounds were very true,  
Though naked yet and bare (not having to content  
The wayward curious ear) gave fictive ornament;  
And fitter thought, the truth they should in question call,  
Then coldly sparing that, the truth should go and all.  
And surely I suppose, that which this froward time  
Doth scandalise her with to be her heinous crime,  
That hath her most preserved: for, still where wit hath found  
A thing most clearly true, it made that, fictions ground:  
Which she supposed might give sure colour to them both:  
From which, as from a root, this wondered error growth  
At which our Critics gird, whose judgements are so strict,  
And he the bravest man who most can contradict  
That which decrepit Age (which forced is to lean  
Upon Tradition) tells; esteeming it so mean,  
As they it quite reject, and for some trifling thing  
(Which Time hath pinned to Truth) they all away will fling.  
These men (for all the world) like our Precisions be,  
Who for some Cross or Saint they in the window see  
Will pluck down all the Church: Soule-blinded sot● that creep  
In dirt, and never saw the wonders of the Deep.  
Therefore (in my conceit) most rightly served are they  
§. That to the Roman trust (on his report that stay)  
Our truth from him to learn, as ignorant of ours  
As we were then of his; except 'twere of his powers:  
Who our wise Druids here unmercifully slew;  
Like whom, great Nature's depths no men yet ever knew,  
Nor with such dauntless spirits were ever yet inspired;  
Who at their proud arrive th'ambitious Romans fired  
When first they heard them preach the souls immortal state;  
And even in Rome's despite, and in contempt of Fate,  
Grasped hands with horrid death: which out of hate and pride  
They slew, who through the world were reverenced beside.  
To understand our state, no marvel then though we  
Should so to Caesar seek, in his reports to see  
What anciently we were; when in our infant war,  
Unskilful of our tongue but by Interpreter,  
He nothing had of ours which our great Bards did sing,  
Except some few poor words; and those again to bring  
Unto the Latin sounds, and easiness they used,  
By their most filled speech, our British most abused.  
But of our former state, beginning, our descent,  
The wars we had at home, the conquests where we went,  
He never understood. And though the Romans here  
So noble Trophies left, as very worthy were  
A people great as they, yet did they ours neglect,  
Long reared ere they arrived. And where they do object,  
The Ruins and Records we show, be very small  
To prove ourselves so great: even this the most of all  
('Gainst their objection) seems miraculous to me,  
That yet those should be found so general as they be;  
The Roman, next the Pict, the Saxon, than the Dane,  
All landing in this I'll, each like a horrid rain  
Deforming her; besides the sacrilegious wrack  
Of many a noble Book, as impious hands should sack  
The Centre, to extirp all knowledge, and exile  
All brave and ancient things, for ever from this I'll:  
Expressing wondrous grief, thus wandering Wye did sing.  
But, back, industrious Muse; obsequiously to bring  
Clear Severne from her source, and tell how she doth strain  
Down her delicious Dales; with all the goodly train,  
Brought forth the first of all by Brugan: which to make  
Her party worthy note, next, Dulas in doth take.  
Moylvadian his much love to Severne then to show,  
Upon her Southern side, sends likewise (in a row)  
Bright Biga, that brings on her friend and fellow Floyd;  
Next, Dungum; Bacho then is busily employed,  
Tarranon, Carno, Hawes, with Becon, and the Rue,  
In Seuern's sovereign Banks, that give attendance due.  
Thus as she swoops along, with all that goodly train,  
Upon her other Bank by Newtowne: so again  
§. Comes Dulas (of whose name so many Rivers be,  
As of none others is) with Mule, prepared to see  
The confluence to their Queen, as on her course she makes:  
Then at Mountgomery next clear Kennet in she takes;  
Where little Fledding falls into her broader Bank;  
Forked Vurnway, bringing Tur, and Tanot: growing rank,  
She plies her towards the Pool, from the Gomerian fields;  
Then which in all our Wales, there is no country yields  
An excellenter Horse, so full of natural fire,  
As one of Phoebus' Steeds had been that Stalyons ●ire  
Which first their race begun; or of th' Asturian kind,  
§. Which some have held to be begotten by the Wind,  
Upon the Mountain Mare; which strongly it receives,  
And in a little time her pregnant part upheaves.  
But, leave we this to such as after wonders long:  
The Muse prepares herself unto another Song.  

Illustrations.  
AFter Penbroke in the former Song, succeeds here Cardigan; both washed by the Irish Seas. But, for intermixture of rivers, and contiguity of situation, the inlands of Montgomery, Radnor, and Brecknock are partly enfolded.  
Whose Kind in her decayed, is to this I'll unknown.  
That these Rivers were in Tivy frequent, anciently is testified by Sylvester Girald 
a Topograph. Hib. dist. 1. cap. 21. Itin. Cam. 2. cap. 3.  describing the particulars, which the author tells you, both of this, and the Salmon; but that here, are no Bevers now, as good authority of the present 
b Povel. & Camden.  time informs you.  
Unto thy charming Harp thy future honour song.  
Of the Bards, their Singing, Heraldship, and more of that nature, see to the fourth Song. 
c Girald. Topograph. 3. dist. cap. 11.  Ireland (saith one) uses the Harp and Pipe, which he calls tympanum: Scotland the Harp, Tympan, and Chorus; Wales the Harp, Pipe, and Chorus. Although Tympanum and Chorus have other significations, yet, this Girald (from whom I vouch it) using these words as received, I imagine, of S. Hieromes Epistle to Dardanus▪ according to whom, for explanation, finding them pictured in Ottomar Luscinius his Musurgie, as several kind of Pipes, the first dividing itself into two at the end, the other spread in the middle, as two segments of a circle, but one at both ends, I guess them intended near the same. But I refer myself to those that are more acquainted with these kind of British fashions. For the Harp his word is Cithara, which (if it be the same with Lyra, as some think, although urging reason and authority are to the contrary) makes the Bards music, like that expressed in the 
d Horat. Ep. odd. 9  Lyrique: 
— bibam  
Sonante mistum tibijs carmen lyrâ,  
Hâc Dorium, illis Barbarum.  Apply it to the former notes, and observe with them, that 
e Plutarch. de Isid. & Osiride.  the Pythagoreans used, with music of the Harp (which in those times, if it were Apollo's, was certainly but of 
f Horat. Carm. 3. odd. 11. Homer in Hymn. ad E●u. Seru. Honorat. ad 4. Aeneid. (ubi testudinem primò trium Chordarum, quam à Mercurio Caducei precio emisse Apollinem sept●mque discrimina vocum addidisse legimus, & videndus Diodor. Sleul. lib. a.) unde 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 etc. dicitur Graecis.  seven strings) when they went to sleep, to charm (as the old Scots were wont to do, & do yet in their Isles, as Buchanan 
g Hist. Scot 4. in Fethelmacho.  affirms) & compose their troubled affections. Which I cite to this purpose, that in comparing it with the British music, and the attributes thereof before remembered out of Heracleotes and Girald, you may see conveniency of use in both, and worth of antiquity in ours; and as well in Pipes as Harp, if you remember the poetic story of Marsyas. And withal forget not that in one of the oldest coins that have been made in this Kingdom, the picture of the Revers is Apollo having his Harp encircled with Cunebelins' name, then chief King of the Britons; and for Belin and Apollo, see to the VIII. Song.  
By whom first Gaul was taught her knowledge.  
Understand the knowledge of those great Philosophers, Priests, and Lawyers called Druid's, (of whom to the X. Song largely.) Their discipline was first found out in this Isle, and afterward transferred into Gaul; whence their youth were sent hither as to an University for instruction in their learned professions: 
h Comment. 6.  Caesar himself is author of as much. Although, in particular law learning, it might seem that Britain was requi●ed, if the Satirist 
i Juvenal. satire 15.  deceive not in that; 

* Eloquent Gaul taught the British Lawyers.  Gallia causidicos docuit facunda Britannos.  Which with excellent Lipsius 
k De pronuntiat. rect. Lat. ling. cap. 3. v. Viglium ad instit. justin. tit. quib. non est permiss. fac. ●est. Circ● DCC.XC. University of Paris Instituted , I rather apply to the dispersion of the Latin tongue through Gaul into this Province, then to any other language or matter. For also in Agicolas time somewhat before, it appears that matter of good literature was here in a far higher degree than there, as Tacitus in his life hath recorded. Thus hath our Isle been as Mistress to Gaul twice. First in this Druidian doctrine, next in the institution of their now famous University of Paris; which was done by Charlemagne, through aid and industry of our learned Alcuin (he is called also Albin, and was first sent Ambassador to the Emperor by Offa K. of Mercland) seconded by those Scots, 
l Bal●us cent. 1.  john Mailr●s, Claudius Clement, and Raban Maurus. But I know great men permit it not; nor can I see any very ancient authority for it, but infinite of later times; so that it goes as a received opinion; therefore without more examination in this no more fit passage, I commit it to my Reader.  
One Bard but coming in their murderous swords hath stayed.  
Such strange assertion find I in story of these Bards powerful enchantments, that with the amazing sweetness of their delicious 
a Diodor. Sicul. de gest. fabul●s. antiq. lib. 6.  harmonies, not their own only, but withal their enemy's armies have suddenly desisted from fierce encounters; so, as my author says, did Mars reverence the Muses. This exactly continues all fitness with what is before affirmed of that kind of Music; twixt which (and all other by authentic affirmance) and the minds affections there are certain 
b Aristot. Polit. ● cap. 5.  
* Imitations.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as in this particular example is apparent. But how agreeth this with that in Tacitus which calls a musical incentive to war among the Germans, Barditus? Great critics would there 
c Lips. ad Polyb. 4. Dialog. 11.  read Barrhitus, which in V●getius and Ammian especially, is a peculiar name for those stirring up alarms before the battle used in Roman assaults (equal in proportion to the greeks 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the Irish Kerns Pharroh, & that Roland's Song of the Normans, which hath had his like also, in most nations.) But, seeing Barrhitus (in this sense) is a word of later time, and scarce yet, without remembrance of his naturalisation, allowed in the Latin; 
Bardus Galli●è & Britannicè Cantor. Fest. & vide Bodin. meth. hist. cap. 9 qui Robartum Dagobartum & similiae vocabula hinc (malè verò) deducit.  and, that this use was notable in those Northerns and Gauls, until wars with whom, it seems Rome had not a proper word for it (which appears by Festus Pompeius, affirming that the cry of the army was called Barbaricum) I should think somewhat confidently, that Barditus (as the common copies are) is the truest 
d Locus Taciti in de morib. Germ.  reading; yet so, that Barditus form by an unknowing pronunciation is, and, by original, was the self-same. For, that Lipsius mending the place, will have it from Baren in Dutch, which signifies, To cry out, or from Har Har (which is as Haron in the Norman customs and elsewhere) or from the word Bear for imitation of that beasts cry, I much wonder, seeing Tacitus makes express mention of verses harmonically celebrating valiant performers, recital whereof hath that name Barditus, which to interpret we might well call Singing. But to conjoin this fiery office with that quenching power, of the Bards, spoken of by the author, I imagine that they had also for this martial purpose skill in that kind of music, which they call Phrygian, being (as Aristotle says) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 i. as it were, madding the mind with sprightful motion. For so we see that those which sing the Tempering & mollifying 
e Suid. in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  Paeans to Apollo, the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 after victory, did among the Greeks in another strain move with their Paeans to Mars, their 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and provoking charms before the encounter; and so meets this in our Bards dispersed doubtless (as the Druids) through Britain, Gaul, and part of Germany, which three had especially in warfare much community.  
Our Cimbri with the Gauls—  
National transmigrations touched to the fourth Song give light hither. The name of Cimbri (which most of the learned in this later time have made the same with Cimmerians, Cumerians, Cambrians, all coming from Gomer 
f Genes. 10.  japhets son, to whom with his posterity was this Northwesterne part of the world divided) expressing the Welsh, calling themselves also Kumry. The author alludes here to that British army, which in our story is conducted under Brennus and Belinus (sons to Molmutius) through Gaul, and thence prosecuted, 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, Brass, not Iron, was the metal of most use. In their little Scythes, wherewith they 
a Sophocles, Carminlus, Virgil. ap. Macrobium Saturnal. lib. 5. cap. 19 Pausan. in Laconic. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. & Arcadic ●. Samuel. lib. 1. cap. 17.  cut their herbs for enchantments, their Priests Rasours, plowshares for describing the content of plotted Cities, their music instruments, and such like, how special this metal was, it is with good warrant delivered; Nor with less, how frequent in the making of Swords, Spears, and Armour in the Heroic times, as among other authorities that in the encounter of Diomedes and Hector 
b Iliad. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  manifesteth: 

* Brass rebounds from Brass. — 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Which seems in them to have proceeded from a willingness of avoiding instruments too deadly in wounding▪ For from a s●yptique faculty in this, more than in Iron, the cure of what it hurts is affirmed more easy, and the metal itself, 
* Of remedial power.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as 
c Problem 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Sect. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Aristotle expresses. But that our Britons used it also it hath been out of old monuments by our most 
d Camd. in Cornub. See for this more in the X. Song.  learned Antiquary observed.  
That to the Roman trust (on his report that stay)  
For indeed many are which the author here impugns, that dare believe nothing of our story, or antiquities of more ancient times; but only julius Caesar, and other about or since him. And surely his ignorance of this Isle was great, time forbidding him language or conversation with the British. Nor was any before him of his country, that knew or meddled in relation of us. The first of them that once to letters committed any word deduced from Britain's name was a Philosophical 
e Lucret. de Rer. Nat. 6.  Poet (flourishing some L. years before Caesar) in these verses: 
Nam quid Britannum coelum differre putamus,  
Et quod in Aegypto'st, quà mundi claudicat axis?  In the somewhat later Poets that lived about August, as Catull●, Virgil, & Horace, some passages of the name have you, but nothing that discovers any monument of this Island proper to her inhabitants. I would not reckon Corneli 
Cornelius Nepos challenged to an English wit.  Nepos among them, to whose name is attributed, in Print, that polite Poem (in whose composition Apollo seems to have given personal aid) of the Trojan war▪ according to Dares the Phrygians story; where, by Poetical liberty the Britons are supposed to have been with Hercules at the rape of Hasione: I should so, besides error▪ wrong my country, to whose glory the true author's name of that book will among the worthies of the Muses ever live. Read but these of his verses, and then judge if he were a Roman: 
— Sineremigis usu  
Non nosset Memphis Romam, non Indus Hiberum,  
Non Scytha Cecropidem, non Nostra Britannia Gallum.  And in the same book to Baldwin Archbishop of Canterbury: 
Artu dissimulis longè cui fronte serenâ  
Sanguinis agregij lucrum, pacemque litatâ  
Emptam animâ Pater illepius, summumque cacumen  
In curam venisse velit, cuicederet ipse  
Prorsus, vel proprias laetus sociaret habenas.  Of him a little before: 
— quo praeside Flores  

* Ita. ●. legendum, non Tantia aut Pontia▪ uti ineptiunt qui josepho nostro nurenti suam in●iderunt co●onam in Codice Typis excuso.  Cantia, & in priscas respirat libera legoes.   
Briefly thus: the Author was joseph of Excester (afterward Archbishop of Bourdeaux) famous in this and other kind of good learning, under Hen. II. and Rich. I speaking among those verses in this form: 
Te sacrae assument acies divinaque bella.  
Tunc dignum maiore tuba, tunc pector● toto  
Nitar, & immensum mecum sparg êre per Orbem.  Which must (as I think) be intended of Baldwin whose undertaking of the cross and voyage with Coeur de Lion into the Holy-land, and death there, is in our 
a Chronicis add● & Girald. Itin. Camb. 2. cap. 14.  Stories▪ out of which you may have large declaration of this holy father (so he calls Tho. Becket) that bought peace with price of his life, being murdered in his house at Canterbury, through the urging grievances intolerable to the King and Laity, his diminution of common law liberties, and endeavoured derogation, for maintenance of Romish usurped supremacy. For these liberties, see Matthew Paris before all other, and the Epistles of 
b Sarisburiens. Epist. 159. 210, 220. & 268.  john of Salisbury, but lately published▪ and, if you please, my janus Anglorum, where they are restored from senseless corruption, and are indeed more themselves then in any other whatsoever in print. But thus too much of this false Cornelius. Compare with these notes what is to the first Song of Britain and Albion; and you shall see that in Greek writers mention of our Land is long before any in the Latin: for Polybius that is the first which mentions it, was more than C. years before Lucretius. The author's plainness in the rest of Wies Song to this purpose discharges my further labour.  
Comes Dulas, of whose name so many rivers be.  
As in England the names of Avon, Ouse, Stoure, and some other; so in Wales, before all, is Dulas, a name very often of rivers in Radnor, Brecknock, Caermardbin, and elsewhere.  
Which some have held to be begotten of the wind.  
In those Western parts of Spain, Gallicia, Portugal and Asturia many Classic testimonies, both Poets, as Virgil, Silius Italicus, Naturalists, Historians and Geoponiques, as Varro, Columel, Pliny, Trogus and Solinus have remembered these Mares, which conceive through servant lust of Nature, by the West wind; without copulation with the male (in such sort as the Ona subventanea 
c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, windy eggs, bred without a Cock.  are bred in Hens) but so that the Folles line not over some three years. I refer it as an Allegory 
d justin. hist. lib. 44.  to the expressing only of their fertile breed and swiftness in course; which is elegantly to this purpose, framed by him that was the Father 
e Iliad. ●●.  of this conceit to his admiring posterity, in these speaking of Xanthus and Balius, two of Achilles' Horses: 
— 
* These did fly like the wind, which swift Podarge foaled to their Sirc Zephyrus, feeding in a Meadow by the Ocean.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  Whence withal you may note, that Homer had at least heard of these coasts of Spain, according as upon the conjecture on the name of Lisbon, the Elysians, and other such you have in 
f Geographia.  Strabo. But for Lesbon, which may will have from Ulysses, and call it Vlixbon, being commonly written Olisippo or Vlissippo in the ancients, you shall have better etymology, if you hence derive and make it 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Ptolemeo. iota sublaio vera restat lectio. Paul. Merul. cosmog. part. 2. lib. 2. cap. 26.  as it were, that the whole tract is a Seminary of Horses, as a most learned man hath delivered.    

  

The se●uenth Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
The Muse from Cambria comes again,  
To view the Forest of fair Deane;  
Sees Severne; when the Higre takes her,  
How Feverlike the sickness shakes her;  
Makes mighty Maluerne speak his mind  
In honour of the Mountain kind;  
Thence wasted with a merry gale,  
Sees Lemster, and the Golden Vale;  
Sports with the Nymphs, themselves that ply  
At th'wedding of the Lugier and Why;  
Viewing the Herefordian pride  
Along on Severns setting side,  
That small Wigornian part surveys:  
Where for a while herself she stays.  
HIgh matters call our Muse, inviting her to see  
As well the lower Lands, as those were lately she  
The Cambrian Mountains clomb, & (looking from aloft)  
Survaid coy Severns course: but now to shores more soft  
She shapes her prosperous sail; and in this lofty Song,  
The Herefordian floods invites with her along,  
§. That fraught from plenteous Powse, with their superfluous waste,  
Manure the batfull Mar●h, until they be embraced  
In sabrin's Sovereign arms: with whose tumultuous waves  
§. Shut up in narrower bounds, the Higre wildly raves;  
And frights the struggling flocks, the neighbouring shores to fly,  
A far as from the Main it comes with hideous cry,  
And on the angry front the curled foam doth bring,  
The billows 'gainst the banks when fiercely it doth fling;  
Hurls up the slimy ooze, and makes the scaly brood  
Leap madding to the Land affrighted from the flood;  
O returns the toiling Bargain, whose steersman doth not launch,  
And thrusts the furrowing beak into her ireful paunch:  
As when we haply see a sickly woman fall 
A Simile expressing the Boar or Higre.   
Into a fit of that when we the Mother call,  
When from the grieved womb she feels the pain arise,  
Breaks into grievous sighs, with intermixed cries,  
Bereft of her sense▪ and struggling still with those  
That 'gainst her rising palne their utmost strength oppose,  
Starts, tosses, tumbles, strikes, turns, touses, spurns and sprawls,  
Casting with furious limbs her holder's to the walls;  
But that the horrid pangs torments the grieved so,  
One well might muse from whence this sudden strength should grow.  
Here (Queen of Forests all, that West of Severne lie)  
Her broad and bushy top Deane holdeth up so high,  
The lesser are not seen▪ she is so tall and large.  
And standing in such state upon the winding marge,  
§. Within her hollow woods the satires that did won  
In gloomy secret shades, not pierced with summers sun,  
Under a false pretence the Nymphs to entertain,  
Oft ravished the choice of Sabrius watery train;  
And from their Mistress banks them taking as a prey,  
Unto their woody Caves have carried them away:  
Then from her inner Groves for succour when they cried,  
She reckless of their wrongs (her satires escapes to hide)  
Unto their just complaint no● once her ●are inclines:  
So fruitful in her Woods, and wealth in her Mines,  
That Leden which her way doth through the Desert make,  
Though near to Deane allied, determined to forsake  
Her course, and her clear lim● amongst the bushes hide,  
Lest by the Syluans (should she chance to be espied)  
She might unmaidued go unto her Sovereign Flood:  
So many were the rapes done on the watery brood,  
That Sabrine to her Sire (great Neptune) forced to sue,  
The riots to repress of this outrageous crew,  
His armed Orks he sent her milder stream to keep,  
To drive them back to Deane that troubled all the Deep.  
§. Whilst Malverne (king of Hills) fair Severne over-lookes  
(Attended on in state with tributatie Brookes)  
And how the fertile fields of Hereford do lie.  
And from his many heads, with many an amorous eye  
Beholds his goodly site, how towards the pleasant rise,  
Abounding in excess, the Vale of Eusham lies,  
The Mountains every way about him that do stand,  
Of whom he's daily seen, and seeing doth command;  
On tiptoes set aloft, this proudly uttereth he:  
Olympus, fayr'st of Hills, that Heaven art said to be,  
I not envy thy state, nor less myself do make;  
Nor to possess thy name, mine own would I forsake:  
Nor would I, as thou dost, ambitiously aspire  
To thrust my forked top into th'ether all fire.  
For, didst thou ●iste●s the sweets that on my face do breath,  
Above thou wouldst nor seek what I enjoy beneath:  
Besides, the sundry soils I everywhere survey,  
Make me, if better nor, thy equal every way.  
And more▪ in our defence, to answer those, with spite  
That term us barren rude, and void of all delight;  
We Mountains, to the Land, like Words or Wens to be,  
By which, fairest living things disfigured oft they see;  
This strongly to perform, a well 〈◊〉 brain would need.  
And many Hills there be, if they this Choose would heed,  
Having their rising tops familiar with the sky  
(From whence all wit proceeds) that ●it●er were then I  
The task to under-rulde. As not a man that sees  
Mounchde●ny, Blorench hill, with Breadon, and the Clees,  
And many more as great; and nearer me than they,  
But thinks, in our defence they far much more could say.  
Yet, falling to my lor, This stoutlie● maintain  
'Gainst Forests, Valleys, Fields, Groves, Rivers, Pasture, Plain,  
And all their flatter kind (so much that do rely  
Upon their feedings, flocks, and the infertilitie)  
The Mountain is the King: and he ●t is alone  
Above the other soils that Nature doth in throne  
For Mountain ●e like Men of brave heroic mind,  
With eyes erect to heaven; of whence themselves they find;  
Whereas the low lie Vale, as earthly, like itself,  
Doth never further look then how to purchase pelf.  
And of their batfull sites, the Vales that boast them thus,  
Near had been what they are, had it not been for us▪  
For, from the rising banks that strongly mound them in,  
The Valley (as betwixt) her name did first begin:  
And almost not a Brook, if she her banks do fill,  
But hath her plenteous Spring from Mountain or from Hill.  
If Mead, or lower Sl●de, grieve at the room we take,  
Know that the snow or rain, descending oft, doth make  
The fruitful Valley fat, with what from us doth glide,  
Who with our Wintors' waste maintain their summers pride.  
And to you lower Lands if terrible we seem,  
And covered oft with clouds; it is your foggy steam  
The powerful S●nne exhales, that in the cooler day  
Unto this Region comen, about our tops doth stay.  
And, what's the Grove, so much that thinks her to be graced,  
If not above the rest upon the Mountain placed,  
Where she her curled head unto the eye may show?  
For, in the easy Vale if she be set below,  
What is she but obscure? and her more dampy shade  
And covert, but a Den for beasts of ravine made  
Besides, we are the Marks, which looking from an high,  
The travailer beholds▪ and with a cheerful eye  
Doth thereby shape his course, and freshly doth pursue  
The way which long before lay tedious in his view.  
What Forest, Flood, or Field, that standoth not in awe,  
Of Sina, or shall see the sight that Mountain 〈◊〉  
To none but to a Hill such grace was ever gi●en:  
As on his back 'tis said, great Atlas bears up heaven.  

Endymion found out the course of the Moon.  So Latmus by the wise endymion is renowned,  
That Hill, on whose high toplie was the first that found  
Pale Phoebe's wandering course; so skilful in her Sphere,  
As some stick not to say that he enjoyed her there.  
And those chaste maids, begot on Memoriebly jove,  
Not Tempe only love delighting in their Grove▪  
Nor Helicon their Brook, in whose delicious brim●,  
They oft are used to bathe their cloene and cry stall limbs;  
But high Parnassus have, their Mountain, whereon they  
Upon their golden Lutes continually do play  
Of these I more could tell, to prove the place our own,  
Then by his spacious Mape are by Ortillius shown.  
For Mountains this suffice. Which scarcely had he told,  
Along the fertile fields, when Melver●e might behold  
The Herefordian Floods▪ far distant though they be:  
For great men, as we find, a great way off can see.  
First, from with forehead clear, by Br●myard that doth glide;  
And taking Laden in, their mixed streams do● guide,  
To meet their Sovereign Lug, from the Rad●●ria● Plain  
At Prestayn coming in; where he doth entertain  
The Wadell, as along he under Derfold goes:  
Her full and lusty side to whom the Forest shows,  
As to allure fair Lugier, abo●d with her to make.  
Lug little Oney first, than Arr● in doth take,  
At Lemster, for her Wool whose Staple doth excel,  
And seems to overmatch the golden Phrygian Fell.  
Had this our Colchos been unto the Ancients known▪  
When Honour was herself, and in her glory shown,  
He than that did command the Infantry of Greece,  
Had only to our I'll adventured for this Floeoe.  

The excellency of Lemster wool.  Where lives the man so dull, on Britain's furthest shore,  
To whom did never found the name of Lemster Ore?  
That with the Silkworms web for smallness doth compare:  
Wherein, the Winder shows his workmanship so rare  
As doth the Fleece excel, and mocks her loser clew▪  
As neatly bottomed up as Nature forth it drew;  
Of each in highest account, and reckoned here as fine,  
§. As there th' Appulian fleece, or dainty Tarentyne.  
From thence his lovely self for Wye he doth dispose,  
To view the goodly flocks on each hand as he goes;  
And makes his journey 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 passed)  
That little Fishes bones continually doth cast.  
Whose reason whilst he seeks industriously to know,  
A great way he hath gone, and Hereford doth show  
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 entertains, how kindly they embrace;  
For joy, so great a shout the bordering City sent,  
That with the sound thereof, which through Haywood went,  
The Wood-Nymphs did awake that in the Forest won;  
To know the sudden cause, and presently they run  
With locks uncombed▪ for haste the lovely Wye to see  
(The flood that graced her most) this day should married be  
To that more lovely Lugier; a River of much fame,  
That in her wandering banks should lose his glorious name.  
For Hereford, although her Wye she hold so dear,  
Yet Lugier (whose longer course doth grace ●he goodly Shear,  
And with his plenteous Stream so many Brooks doth bring)  
Of all hers that be North is absolutely King.  
But Marcely, grieved that he (the nearest of the rest,  
And of the Mountain kind) not bidden was a guest  
Unto this nuptial Feast, so hardly it doth take,  
As (meaning for the same his station to forsake)  
§. Enraged and mad with grief, himself in two did rive;  
The Trees and Hedges near, before him up doth drive,  
And dropping headlong down, three days together fall:  
Which, bellowing as he went, the Rocks did so appall,  
That they him passage made, who Coats and Chapels crushed:  
So violently he into his Valley rushed.  
But Wye (from her dear Lugier whom nothing can restrain,  
In many a pleasant shade, her joy to entertain)  
To Rosse her course directs; and right he● 
* Wye or Gwy, so called (in the British) of her sinuosity, or turning.  name to show,  
Oft windeth in her way, as back she meant to go.  
Meander, who is said so intricate to be,  
Hath not so many turns▪ nor crankling nooks as she.  
The Herefordian fields when well-near having past,  
As she is going forth, two sister Brooks at last  
That Soil her kindly sends, to guide her on her way;  
Neat Gamar, that gets in swift Garran: which do lay  
Their waters in one Bank, augmenting of her train,  
To grace the goodly Wye, as she doth pass by Deane.  
Beyond whose equal Spring unto the West doth lie  
The goodly Golden Vale, whose luscious scents do fly  
More free than Hybla's sweets; and twixt her bordering hills,  
The air with such delights and delicacy fills,  
As makes it loath to stir, or thence those smells to bear.  
Th' Hesperideses scarce had such pleasures as be there:  
Which sometime to attain, that mighty son of jove  
One of his Labours made, and with the Dragon strove,  
That never closed his ●ies, the golden fruit to guard;  
As if t'enrich this place, from others, Nature spared:  
Banks crowned with curled Groves, from cold to keep the Plain,  
Fields batfull, flowery Meads, in state them to maintain;  
Floods, to make fat those Meads, from Marble veins that spout,  
To show, the wealth within doth answer that without.  
So brave a Nymph she is, in every thing so rare,  
As to sit down by her, she thinks there's none should dare.  
And forth she sends the Doire, upon the Wye to wait.  
Whom Munne by the way more kindly doth entreat  
(For Eskle, her most loved, and Olcons only sake)  
With her to go along, till Wye she overtake.  
To whom she condescends, from danger her to shield,  
That th' Monumethian parts from th' Herefordian field.  
Which manly Maluern sees from furthest of the Shear,  
On the Wigornian waste when Northward looking near,  
On Corswood casts his eye, and on his 
a Maluern Chase.  home-born Chase,  
Then constantly beholds, with an unusual pace  
Team with her tribute come unto the 
b Severne.  Cambrian Queen,  
Near whom in all this place a river's scarcely seen,  
That dare avouch her name; Team scorning any Spring  
But what with her along from Shrepshire she doth bring,  
Except one nameless Stream that Maluern sends her in,  
And Laughern though but small: when they such grace that win,  
There thrust in with the Brooks enclosed in her Bank.  
Team lastly thither come with water is so rank,  
As though she would contend with Sabryne, and doth crave  
Of place (by her desert) precedency to have:  
Till chancing to behold the others godlike grace,  
So strongly is surprised with beauties in her face  
By no means she could hold, but needsly she must show  
Her liking▪ and herself doth into Sabrine throw.  
Not far from him again when Maluern doth perceive  
Two hills, which though their heads so high they do not heave,  
Yet duly do observe great Maluern, and afford  
Him reverence: who again, as fits a gracious Lord,  
Upon his subjects looks, and equal praise doth give  
That Woodberry so nigh and neighbourly doth live  
With Abberley his friend, deserving well such fame  
That Saxton in his Maps forgot them not to name:  
Which, though in their mean types small matter doth appear,  
Yet both of good account are reckoned in the Shire,  
And highly graced of Team in his proud passing by.  
When soon the goodly Wire, that wont was so high  
Her stately top to rear, ashamed to behold  
Her strait and goodly Woods unto the Furnace sold  
(And looking on herself, by her decay doth see  
The misery wherein her sister Forests be) 
A Fable in Ovid's Metamor.   
Of erisicthon's end begins her to be think,  
And of his cruel plagues doth wish they all might drink  
That thus have them despoiled: then of her own despite;  
That she, in whom her Town fair Beudley took delight,  
And from her goodly seat conceived so great a pride,  
In Severne on her East, Wyre on the setting side,  
So naked left of woods, of pleasure, and forlorn,  
As she that loved her most, her now the most doth scorn;  
With endless grief perplexed, her stubborn breast she struck,  
And to the deafened air thus passionately spoke;  
You Dryads, that are said with Oaks to live and die,  
Wherefore in our distress do you our dwellings fly;  
Upon this monstrous Age and not revenge our wrong?  
For cutting down an Oak that justly did belong  
To one of Ceres' Nymphs, in Thessaly that grew  
In the Dodonean Grove (O Nymphs!) you could pursue  
The son of Perops then, and did the Goddess stir  
That villainy to wreak the Tyrant did to her:  
Who, with a dreadful frown did blast the growing Grain:  
And having from him rest what should his life maintain,  
She unto Scythia sent, for Hunger, him to gnaw,  
And thrust her down his throat, into his stanchless maw:  
Who, when nor Sea nor Land for him sufficient were,  
With his devouring teeth his wretched flesh did tear.  
This did you for one Tree: but of whole Forests they  
That in these impious times have been the vile decay  
(Whom I may justly call their Country's deadly foes)  
'Gainst them you move no Power, their spoil unpunished goes.  
How many grieved souls in future time shall starve,  
For that which they have rapt their beastly lust to serve!  
We, sometime that the state of famous Britain were,  
For whom she was renowned in Kingdoms far and near,  
Are ransacked; and our Trees so hacked above the ground,  
That where their lofty tops their neighbouring Countries crowned,  
Their Trunks (like aged folks) now bare and naked stand,  
As for revenge to heaven each held a withered hand:  
And where the goodly Herds of high-palmed Hearts did gaze  
Upon the passer by, there now doth only graze  
The gall'd-backe carrion jade, and hurtful Swine do spoil  
Once to the Sylvan Powers our consecrated soil.  
This uttered she with grief: and more she would have spoke:  
When the Salopian floods her of her purpose broke,  
And silence did enjoin; a listening ear to lend  
To Severne, which was thought did mighty things intent.  

Illustrations.  
THe Muse yet hovers over Wales, and here sings the inner territories, with part of the Severne story, and her English neighbours.  
That fraught from plenteous Powse with their superfluous waist  
Manure the batfull March—  

Tripartite division of Wales.  Wales (as is before touched) divided into three parts, North-Wales, South-Wales and Powise; this last is here meant, comprising part of Brecknock, Radnor, and Montgomery. The division hath its beginning attributed to the three sons of 
a Girald. Camb. descript. cap. 2. DCCC. LXX.VI.  Roderique the Great, mervin, Cadel●, and Anarawt, who possessed them for their portions hereditary, as they are named. But out of an old book of Welsh laws, David Powel affirms those tripartite titles more ancient. I know that the division 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 
* The three crowned Princes.  Y tritwysoc Lalaethioc, because 
b D. Povel. ad Caradoc. Lhancaruan. Crowns, Diadems. Band.  every of them ware upon his Bonnet or Helmet, a Coronet of gold, being a broadlace or head-band, indented upward, set and wrought with precious stones, which in British or Welsh is called Lalaeth, which name Nurse's give to the upper hand on a child's head. Of this form (I mean of a band or wreath) were the ancientest of crowns, as appears in the description of the Cidaris, and Tiara of the Persiant in Ctesias, Q. Curtius, and Xenophon, the crowns of Oak, grass, Parsley, Olives, Myrtle, and such among the greeks and Romans, and in that express name of Diadema, signifying a Band, of which, whether it have in our tongue community with that Banda, derived out of the 
c Stephan. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 v. Gorop. Becceselan. 2. & Pet. Pith●l adversar 2. c. ●0. de Bandâ, cui & Andatem apud Dionem conferas, & videses si in altero ●lterius reliquia.  Car●an into Italian, expressing victory, and so, for ominous good words, is translated to Ensigns and Standards (as in oriental Stories the words 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 often show) I must not here inquire. Molmutius first 
d Galfred. Monumeth. lib. 1. & 9  used a golden Crown among the British, and, as it seems by the same authority, Athelstan among the Saxons. But I digress▪ By the March understand those limits between England and Wales▪ which continuing from North to South, join the Welsh Shires to Hereford, Shropshire and the English part, and were divers Baronies, divided from any Shire until 
e 27. Hen. 8. cap. 26. v. 28. Ed. 3. cap. 2.  Hen. VIII. by act of Parliament annexed some to Wales, other to England. The Barons that lived in them were called Lord Marchers, and by the name of 
f Lib. Rub. Seat●a●.  Marchiones i. Marquesses. For so Roger of 
g Matth. West●●●●● lib. 2.  Mortimer, james of Andeleg, Roger of Clifford, Roger of Leiburn, Ha●mo L'estrange, Hugh of Turberuil, (which by sword adventured the ransom of Henry III. out of Simon of Montfort his treacherous imprisonment, after the battle of Lewes) are called 
* Marquesses, or Lord Marchers of Wales.  Marchiones Walliae▪ and Edward III. created Roger of Mortimer Earl of March, as if you should say, of the 〈…〉 England, 〈…〉, of Merc, signifying a bound or limit was to the III. Song more largely. 
For the limits see to the next Song.  And hence is supposed the original of that honorary title of marquess, which is as much as a Lord of the Frontiers, or such like; although I know divers other are the derivations which the 
a Ad Const. Feud. z. 'tis. qui● dicatur Dux & jurisconsulti saepins.  Feudists have imagined. These Marchers had their laws in their Baronies, and for matter of sult, if it had been twixt Tenants holding of them, than was it commenced in their own Courts and determined; if for the Barony itself, then in the King's Court at Westminster, by Writ directed to the sheriff of the next English Shire adjoining, as Gloucester, Hereford, and some other. For the King's 
* But see to the IX. Song more particularly.  Writ did not run in Wales as in England, until by Statute the Principality was incorporated with the Crown; as appears in an old 
b 〈…〉 13. Hen. li●. Gard. 147.  report where one was committed for esloigning a Ward into Wales, extra potestarem Regis under Hen. III. Afterward 
c Stat. Ruthland. 12. Ed. 1.  Ed. I. made some Shires in it, and altered the customs, conforming them in some sort to the English, as in the Statute of Ruthlan you have it largely; and under Ed. II. to a 
d 14. Ed. 2. d●rs. claus. man 13.  Parliament at York were summoned XXIIII. out of North-Wales, and as many out of South-Wales. But notwithstanding all this, the Marches continued as distinct▪ and in them were, for the most part, those controverted titles, which in our Law-annals are referred to Wales. For the divided Shires were, as it seems, or should have been subject to the English form▪ but the particulars here of are unfit for this room: if you are at all conversant in our law, I send you to my 
e V. 18. Ed. 2. tit. Alsise 382. 13. Ed. 3. Iurisdict. 23.6 Hen. 5. ib. 34. 1. Ed. 3. s. 14. & saepiusm annalibus juris nostri.  margin; if not, it scarce concerns you.  
— the Higre wildly raves.  
This violence, of the waters madness, declared by the Author, is so expressed in an old 
f Guil. Malmesbur. lib. 4 digest. Pontificum.  Monk, which about CCCC. years since, says it was called the Higre in English. To make more description of it, were but to resolve the author's Poem.  
Within her hollow woods the Satyrs that did won.  
By the Satyrs ravishing the Sea-Nymphs into this maritime Forest of Deane (lying between Wye and Severne in Gloucester) with Severn's suit to Neptune, and his provision of remedy, you have, poetically described, the rapines which were committed along that shore, by such as lurked in these shady receptacles, which he properly titles Satyr's, that name coming from an Eastern 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  root▪ signifying to hide, or lie bid, as that 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 lib. de Satyra. Meritò indigetatur hoc Epitheto longè doctissimus à doctissimo Dan. Heinsio in annot ad Horatium.  All-knowing Isaac Casaubon hath at large (among other his unmeasurable benefits to the state of learning) taught us. The English were also ill entreated by the Welsh in their passages here, until by act of Parliament remedy was given; as you may see in the 
g Stat. 9 Hen. 6. cap. 5.  statutes preamble, which satisfies the fiction.  
Whilst Maluerne K. of hills fair● Severne overlooks.  
Hereford and Worcester are by these hills seven miles in length confined; and rather, in respect of the adjacent vales, than the hills self, understand the attribute of excellency. Upon these is the supposed vision of Piers Plowmà, don, as is thought, by Robert 
h About time of Edward III.  Langland, a Shropshire man, in a kind of English meeter: which for discovery of the infecting corruptions of those times, I prefer before many more seemingly serious invectives, as well for invention as judgement.  
As there th' Apulian fleece, or dainty Tarentine.  
In Apuglia and the upper Calabria of Italy, the Wool hath been ever famous for 
i Varr●de re rustic. 2. cap. 2. Columell. lib. 7. cap. 4.  finest excellence: in so much that for preserving it from the injury of earth, bushes, and weather, the Shepherds used to cloth their Sheep with skins; and indeed was so chargeable in these and other kind of pains about it, that it scarce required cost.  
— him self in two did rive.  
Alluding to a prodigious division of Marcly hill, in an earthquake of late 
k M. D.IXX.V.  time; which most of all was in these parts of the Island.    

  

The eight Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
The goodly Severne bravely sings  
The noblest of her British Kings;  
At Caesar's landing what we were,  
And of the Roman Conquests here:  
Then shows, to her dear Britan's fame,  
How quickly christened they became;  
And of their constancy doth boast,  
In sundry fortunes strangely tossed:  
Then doth the Saxons landing tell,  
And how by them the Britan's fell;  
Cheers the Salopian Mountains hie,  
That on the west of Severne lie;  
Calls down each Riveret from her Spring,  
Their Queen upon her way to bring;  
Whom down to Bruge the Muse attends:  
Where, leaving her, this Song she ends.  
TO Salop when herself clear Sabrine comes to show,  
And wisely her bethinks the way she had to go,  
South-west-ward casts her course; & with an amorous eye  
Those Countries whence she came, survayeth (passing by)  
Those Lands in Ancient times old Cambria claimed her due,  
For refuge when to her th'oppressed Britan's flew;  
By England now usurped, who (past the wont Meeres,  
Her sure and sovereign banks) had taken sundry Shears,  
Which she her Marches made: whereby those Hills of fame  
And Rivers stood disgraced; accounting it their shame,  
§. That all without that Mound which Mercian Offa cast  
To run from North to South, athwart the Cambrian waist,  
Could England not suffice, but that the straggling Wye,  
Which in the heart of Wales was sometime said to lie,  
Now only for her bound proud England did prefer.  
That Severne, when she sees the wrong thus offered her,  
Though by injurious Time deprived of that place  
Which anciently she held: yet loath that her disgrace  
Should on the Britan's light, the Hills and Rivers near  
Austerely to her calls, commanding them to hear  
In her dear children's right (their Ancestors of yore,  
Now thrust betwixt herself, and the Virgi●ian shore,  
§. Who drove the Giants hence that of the Earth were bred,  
And of the spacious Isle became the sovereign head)  
What from authentic books she liberally could say.  
Of which whilst she bethought her; Westward every way,  
The Mountains, Floods, and Mere, to silence them betake:  
When Severne lowting low, thus gravely them bespoke;  
How mighty was that man, and honoured still to be,  
That gave this Isle his name, and to his children three,  
Three Kingdoms in the same? which, time doth now deny,  
With his arrival here, and primer Monarchy.  

a England.  Loëgria, though thou canst thy Locrine easily lose,  
Yet 
b Wales.  Cambria, him, whom Fate her ancient Founder chose,  
In no wise will forego; nay, should 
c Scotland.  Albania leave  
§. Her Albanact for aid, and to the Scythian cleave.  
And though remorseless Rome, which first did us enthrall,  
As barbarous but esteemed, and sticked not so to call;  
The ancient Britan's yet a sceptred King obeyed  
§. Three hundred years before Rome's great foundation laid;  
And had a thousand years an Empire strongly stood,  
E'er Caesar to her shores here stemd the circling Flood;  
§. And long before, borne Arms against the barbarous Hun,  
here landing with intent the I'll to overrun:  
And following them in flight, their General Humber drowned  
In that great arm of Sea, by his great name renowned;  
And her great Builders had, her Cities who did rear  
With Fanes unto her Gods, and 
a Priests among idolatrous Gentiles.  Flamens every where,  
Nor Troynovant alone a City long did stand;  
But after, soon again by Ebranks powerful hand  
York lifts her Towers aloft: which scarcely finished was,  
But as they, by those Kings; so by Rudhudibras,  
Kent's first and famous 
b Canterbury.  Town, with Winchester, arose:  
And other, others built, as they fit places chose.  
So Britain to her praise, of all conditions brings;  
The warlike, as the wise. Of her courageous Kings,  
Brute Green-shield: to whose name we providence impute,  
Divinely to revive the Land's first Conqueror, Brute.  
So had she those were learned, endued with nobler parts:  
As, he from learned Greece, that (by the liberal Arts)  
§. To Stamford, in this I'll, seemed Athens to transfer;  
Wise Bladud, of her Kings that great Philosopher;  
Who found our boiling Baths▪ and in his knowledge high,  
Disdaining human paths, here practised to fly.  
Of justly vexed Leire, and those who last did tug  
In worry then Civil war, the 
a Ferrex and Porrex.  sons of Gorbodug  
(By whose unnatural strife the Land so long was tossed)  
I cannot stay to tell, not shall my Britain boast;  
But, of that man which did her Monarchy restore,  
Her first imperial Crown of gold that ever wore,  
And that most glorious type of sovereignty regained;  
Mulmutius: who this Land in such estate maintained  
As his great Bel-sire Brute from Albion's heirs it won.  
§. This Grandchild, great as he, those four proud Streets begun  
That each way cross this I'll, and bounds did them allow.  
Like privilege he lent the Temple and the Blow:  
So studious was this Prince in his most forward zeal  
To the Celestial power, and to the Public weal.  
belinus he begot, who Dacia proud subdued;  
And Brennus, 
Belinus and Brennus.  who abroad a worthier war pursued,  
Ashamed of civil strife, at home here leaving all:  
And with such goodly Youth, in Germany and Gaul  
As he had gathered up, the Alpin Mountains past,  
And bravely on the banks of fatal Allia chased  
The Romans (that her stream distained with their gore)  
And through proud Rome, displayed his British Ensign bore:  
bore. There, balancing his sword against her base● gold,  
The Senators for slaves he in her Forum sold.  
At last, by power expelled, yet proud of late success,  
His forces then for Greece did instantly address;  
And marching with his men upon her fruitful face,  
Made Macedon first stoop; then Thessay, and Thrace;  
His soldiers there enriched with all P●●onia's spoil;  
And where to Greece he gave the last and deadliest foil,  
In that most dreadful fight, on that more dismal day,  
O'rthrew their utmost prowess at sad Thermopyl●,  
And daring of her Gods, adventured to have ta'en  
Those sacred things enshrined in wise Apollo's Fane:  
To whom when thundering Heaven pronounced her fearefulst word,  
§. Against the Delphian Power he shaked his ireful sword.  
As of the British blood, the native Cambri here  
(So of my Cambria called) those valiant Cymbri were  
(When Britain with her brood so peopled had her seat,  
The soil could not suffice, it daily grew so great)  
Of Denmark who themselves did anciently possess,  
And to that straightened point, that utmost chersonese,  
§. My Country's name bequeathed; whence Cymbri●● it took:  
Yet long were not comprised within that little nooks,  
But with those Almain powers this people issued forth:  
And like some boisterous wind arising from the North,  
Came that unwieldy host; that, which way it did move,  
The very burdenous earth before it seemed to shove,  
And only meant to claim the Universe it's own.  
In this terrestrial Globe, as though some world unknown,  
By pampered Nature's store too prodigally fed  
(And surfeiting therewith) her surcrease vomited,  
These roaming up and down to seek some settling room,  
First like a Deluge fell upon Illyricum,  
And with his Roman powers Papyrius overthrew;  
Then, by great 
* A great several of those Northern Nations.  Belus brought against those Legions, flew  
Their forces which in France Aurelius Sca●rus led;  
And afterward again, as bravely vanquished  
The consuls Capio, and stout Manlius on the Plain,  
Where Rhodanus was red with blood of Latins slain.  
In greatness next succeeds Belinus worthy son,  
Gurgustus: who soon left what his great Father won,  
To Guyuteline his heir: whose 
a Martia.  Queen, beyond her kind,  
In her great husband's peace, to show her upright mind,  
§. To wise Mulmutius laws, her Martian first did frame:  
From which we ours derive, to her eternal fame.  
So Britain forth with these, that valiant Bastard brought,  
Morindus, Danius son, which with that Monster fought  
His subjects that devoured; to show himself again  
Their Martyr, who by them selected was to reign.  
So Britain likewise boasts her Elidure the just,  
Who with his people was of such especial trust,  
That (Archigallo fallen into their general hate,  
And by their powerful hand deprived of kingly state)  
Unto the Regal Chair they Elidure advanced:  
But long he had not reigned, ere happily it chanced,  
In hunting of a Hart, that in the Forest wild,  
The late deposed King, himself who had exiled  
From all resort of men, just Elidure did meet;  
Who much unlike himself, at Elidurus' feet,  
Him prostrating with tears, his tender breast so struck,  
That he (the British rule who lately on him took  
At th'earnest people's prayers) him calling to the Court,  
There Archigallo's wrongs so lively did report,  
Relating (in his right) his lamentable case,  
With so effectual speech imploring their high grace,  
That him they reinthroned; in peace who spent his days.  
Then Elidure again, crowned with applausive praise,  
As he a brother raised, by brothers was deposed,  
And put into the Tower▪ where miserably enclosed,  
outliving yet their hate, and the usurpers dead,  
Thrice had the British Crown set on his reverend head.  
When more than thirty Kings in fair succession came  
Unto that mighty Lud, in whose eternal name  
§. Great London still shall live (by him rebuilded) while  
To Cities she remains the Sovereign of this I'll.  
And when commanding Rome to Caesar gave the charge,  
Her Empire (but too great) still further to enlarge  
With all beyond the Alpes; the aids he found to pass  
From these parts into Gaul, show'd here some Nation was  
Undaunted that remained with Rome's so dreadful name,  
That durst presume to aid those she decreed to tame.  
Wherefore that matchless man, whose high ambition wrought  
Beyond her Empire's bounds, by shipping wisely sought  
(Hear proling on the shores) this Island to descry,  
What people her possessed, how fashioned she did lie:  
Where scarce a Stranger's foot defiled her virgin breast,  
Since her first Conqueror Brute here put his powers to rest;  
Only some little Boats, from Gaul that did her feed  
With trifles, which she took for niceness more than need:  
But as another world, with all abundance blest,  
And satisfied with what she in her s●lfe possessed;  
Through her excessive wealth (at length) till wanton grown,  
Some Kings (with others Lands that would enlarge their own)  
By innovating Arms an open passage made  
For him that gaped for all (the Roman) to invade.  
Yet with grim-visaged War when he her shores did greet,  
And terriblest did threat with his amazing Fleet,  
Those British bloods he found, his force that durst assail,  
And poured from the Cleeves their shafts like showers of hail  
Upon his helmed head; to tell him as he came,  
That they (from all the world) yet feared not his name:  
Which, their undaunted spirits soon made that Conqueror feel,  
Oft venturing their bare breasts 'gainst his oft-bloodied steel;  
And in their Chariots charged; which they with wondrous skill  
Could turn in their swift'st course upon the steepest hill,  
And wheel about his troops for vantage of the ground,  
Or else disrank his force where entrance might be found:  
And from their Armed seats their thrilling Darts could throw;  
Or nimbly leaping down▪ their valiant swords bestow,  
And with an active skip ●emount themselves again,  
Leaving the Roman horse behind them on the Plain,  
And beaten him back to Gaul his forces to supply;  
As they the Gods of Rome and Caesar did defy  
Cassibalan renowned, the Britan's faithful guide,  
Who when th' Italian powers could no way be denied,  
But would this I'll subdue; their forces to forelay,  
Thy Forests thou didst fell, their speedy course to stay:  
§. Those armed stakes in Tames that stuckst, their horse to gore  
Which boldly durst attempt to forage on thy shore:  
Thou such hard entrance here to Caesar didst allow,  
To whom (thy self except) the Western world did bow.  
§. And more than Caesar got, three Emperors could not win,  
Till the courageous sons of our Cun●belin  
Sunk under Plautius' sword, sent hither to discuss  
The former Roman right, by Arms again, with us.  
Nor with that Consul joined, Vespasian could prevail  
In thirty several fights, nor make them stoop their sail.  
Yea, had not his brave son, young Titus, past their hopes,  
His forward Father fetched out of the British●roopes ●roopes,  
And quit him wondrous well when he was strongly charged,  
His Father (by his hands so valiantly enlarged)  
Had never more seen Rome; nor had he ever spilled  
The Temple that wise son of faithful David built,  
Subverted those high walls, and laid that City wast  
Which God, in human flesh, above all other graced.  
No marvel then though Rome so great her conquest thought,  
In that the I'll of Wight she to subjection brought,  
Our 
* A people then inhabiting Hamp. Dorset. Wilt. and Somerset shires.  Belgae and subdued (a people of the West)  
That latest came to us, our least of all the rest;  
When Claudius, who that time her wreath imperial wore,  
Though scarce he show'd himself upon our Southern shore,  
It scorned not in his stile; but, due to that his praise  
Triumphal Arches claimed, and to have yearly Plays,  
The noblest Naval Crown, upon his Palace pitched;  
As with the Ocean's spoil his Rome who had enriched.  
Her Caradock (with cause) so Britain may prefer;  
Then whom, a braver spirit was near brought forth by her:  
For whilst here in the West the Britan's gathered head,  
This General of the rest, his stout 
a Those of Monmouth, and the adjacent Shires.  Silures led  
Against Ostorius, sent by Oasar to this place  
With Rome's high fortune (than the highest in Fortune's grace)  
A long and doubtful war with whom he did maintain,  
Until that hour wherein his valiant Britan's slain  
He grievously beheld (o'represt with Roman power)  
Himself well-near the last their wrath did not devour.  
When (for revenge, no● fe●re) he fled (as trusting most,  
Another day might win, what this had lately 〈◊〉  
To Cartismandua, Queen of 
b Those of Yorksshire, and there by.  brigands, for her aid,  
He to his foes, by her, most falsely was betrayed.  
Who, as a spoil of war, t'adorn the Triumph seen  
To great Ostorius due, when through proud Rome he went,  
That had herself prepared (as she had all been eyes)  
Our Caradock to view; who in his Country's guise,  
§. Came with his body naked, his hair down to his waste,  
Girt with a chain of steel; his manly breast inchaste  
With sundry shapes of Beasts. And when this Britain saw  
His wife and children bound as slaves, it could not awe  
His manliness at all: but with a settled grace,  
Undaunted with her pride, he looked her in the face:  
And with a speech so grave as well a Prince became,  
Himself and his redeemed, to our eternal fame.  
Then Rome's great 
* Nero.  Tyrant next, the lasts adopted heir,  
That brave Suetonius sent, the British Coasts to clear;  
The utter spoil of 
a Anglesey, the chief place of residence of the Druids.  Mon who strongly did pursue  
(Unto whose gloomy strengths, th'revolted Britan's flew)  
There entering, he beheld what struck him pale with dread:  
The frantic British Froes, their hair dishevelled,  
With firebrands ran about, like to their furious eyes;  
And from the hollow woods the fearless Druids;  
Who with their direful threats, and execrable vows,  
Enforced the troubled heaven to knit her angry brows.  
And as here in the West the Romans bravely won,  
So all upon the East the Britan's overran:  
§. The Colony long kept at Mauldon, overthrown,  
Which by prodigious signs was many times foreshown,  
And often had dismayed the Roman soldiers: when  
Brave Voadicia made with her resolvedst men  
To 
a By Saint Alban.  Virolam; whose siege with fire and sword she plied,  
Till leveled with the earth. To London as she hied,  
The Consul coming in with his auspicious aid,  
The Queen (to quit her yoke no longer that delayed)  
Him dared by dint of sword, it hers or his to try,  
With words that courage showed, and with a voice as high  
(In her right hand her Lance, and in her left her Shield,  
As both the Battles stood prepared in the Field)  
Encouraging her men: which resolute, as strong,  
Upon the Roman rushed; and she, the rest among,  
Wades in that doubtful war: till lastly, when she saw  
The fortune of the day unto the Roman draw,  
The Queen (t'outlive her friends who highly did disdain,  
And lastly, for proud Rome a Triumph to remain)  
§. By poison ends her days, unto that end prepared,  
As lavishly to spend what Suetonius spared.  
Him scarcely Rome recalled, such glory having won,  
But bravely to proceed, as erst she had begun,  
Agricola here made her great Lieutenant then:  
Who having settled Men, that man of all her men,  
Appointed by the Powers apparently to see  
The wearied Britan's sink, and easily in degree  
Beneath his fatal sword the 
a North-wales men.  Ordovies to fall  
Inhabiting the West, those people last of all  
Which stoutl'est him withstood, renowned for Martial worth.  
Thence leading on his powers unto the utmost North,  
When all the Towns that lay betwixt our Trent and Tweed,  
Sufficed not (by the way) his wasteful fires to feed,  
He there some Britan's found, who (to rebate their spleen,  
As yet with grieved eyes our spoils not having seen)  
Him at 
b In the midst of Scotland.  Mount Grampus met: which from his height beheld  
Them lavish of their lives; who could not be compelled  
The Roman yoke to bear: and Galgacus their guide  
Amongst his murdered troops there resolutely died.  
Eight Roman Emperors reigned since first that war began;  
Great julius Caesar first, the last Domitian.  
A hundred thirty years the Northern Britan's still,  
That would in no wise stoup to Rome's imperious will,  
Into the straightened Land with theirs retired far,  
In laws and manners since from us that different are;  
And with the Irish Pict, which to their aid they drew  
(On them oft breaking in, who long did them pursue)  
§. A greater foe to us in our own bowels bred,  
Then Rome, with much expense that us had conquered.  
And when that we great Rome's so much in time were grown,  
That she her charge durst leave to Princes of our own,  
(Such as, within ourselves, our suffrage should elect)  
§. Aviragus, borne ours, here first she did protect;  
Who faithfully and long, of labour did her ease.  
Then he, our Flamens seats who turned to Bishop's seas;  
Great Lucius, that good King: to whom we chiefly owe  
owe. This happiness we have, Christ crucified to know.  
As Britain to her praise received the Christian faith,  
After (that Word-made Man) our dear Redeemers death  
Within two hundred years; and his Disciples here,  
By their great Master sent to preach him every where,  
Most reverently received, their doctrine and preferred;  
Interring him, 
c josaeph of Arimathea.  who erst the Son of God interred.  
So Britan's was she borne, though Italy her crowned,  
Of all the Christian world that Empress most renowned,  
§. Constantius worthy wife▪ who scorning worldly loss,  
Herself in person went to seek that sacred Cross,  
Whereon our Saviour died: which found, as it was sought,  
From 
d jerusalem.  Salem unto Rome triumphantly she brought.  
As when the Primer Church her councils pleased to call,  
Great Britain's Bishops there were not the least of all;  
§. Against the Arian Sect at Aries having room,  
At Sardica again, and at Ariminum,  
Now, when with various Fate five hundred years had passed,  
And Rome of her great charge grew weary here at last;  
The Vandals, Goth●, and Huns, that with a powerful head  
All Italy and France had well-near overspread,  
To much-endangered Rome sufficient warning gave,  
Those forces that she held, within herself to have.  
The Roman rule from us then utterly removed.  
Whilst, we, in sundry Fields, our sundry fortunes proved  
With the remorseless Pict, still wasting us with war.  
And twixt the froward Sire, licentious Vortiger,  
And his too forward son, young Vortimer, arose  
Much strife within ourselves, whilst here they interpose  
By turns each others reigns; whereby, we weakened grow.  
The warlike Saxon then into the Land we drew;  
A Nation nursed in spoil, and fitt'st to undergo  
Our cause against the Pict, our most inveterate foe.  
When they, which we had hired for soldiers to the shore,  
Perceived the wealth I'll to wallow in her store,  
And suttly had found out how we enfeebled were;  
They, under false pretence of amity and cheer,  
The British Peers invite, the Germane Healths to view  
At Stonehenge, where they them unmercifully slew.  
Then, those of Brutus' great blood, of Armoriek possessed,  
Extremely grieved to see their kinsmen so distressed,  
Us offered to relieve, or else with us to die:  
We, after, to requite their noble courtesy,  
§. Eleven thousand maids sent those our friends again,  
In wedlock to be linked with them of Brute's high Strain;  
That none with Brutus' great blood, but Britan's might be mixed:  
Such friendship ever was the stock of Troy betwixt.  
Out of whose ancient race, that warlike Arthur sprung:  
Whose most renowned Acts shall sounded be as long  
As Britain's name is known: which spread themselves so wide,  
As scarcely hath for fame left any roomth beside.  
My Wales, then hold thine own, and let thy Britain's stand  
Upon their right, to be the noblest of the Land.  
Think how much better 'tis, for thee, and those of thine,  
From Gods, and Heroes old to draw your famous line,  
§. Then from the Scythian poor; whence they themselves derive  
Whose multitudes did first you to the Mountains drive.  
Nor let the spacious Mound of that great Mercian King  
(Into a lesser roomth thy burlinesse to bring)  
Include thee; 
The ancient bounds of Wales.  when myself, and my dear brother Dee,  
By nature were the bounds first limited to thee.  
Scarce ended she her speech, but those great Mountains near,  
Upon the Cambrian part that all for Brutus w●re,  
With her high truths inflamed, looked every one about  
To find their several Springs▪ and bade them get them out,  
And in their fullness wait upon their sovereign Flood,  
In Britain's ancient right so bravely that had stood▪  
When first the furious Team, that on the Cambrian side  
Doth Shropshire as a Mere from Hereford divide,  
As worthiest of the rest; so worthily doth crave  
That of those lesser Brooks the leading she might have;  
The first of which is Clun, that to her Mistress came▪  
Which of a 
* Clun Forrest.  Forest borne that bears her proper name,  
Unto the Golden Vale and anciently allied,  
Of every thing of both, sufficiently supplied,  
The longer that she grows, the more renown doth win:  
And for her greater State, next Bradfield bringeth in,  
Which to her wider banks resigns a weak stream.  
When fiercely making forth, the strong and lusty Team  
A friendly Forest Nymph (named Mockery) doth embrace,  
Herself that bravely bears; twixt whom and Bringwood Chase,  
Her banks with many a wreath are curiously 〈◊〉,  
And in their safer shades they long time her protect.  
Then takes she Oney in, and forth from them doth fling:  
When to her further aid, ne●t Bowie, and Warren, bring  
Clear Quenny; by the way, which Stradbrooke up doth take:  
By whose united powers, their Team they mightier make;  
Which in her lively course to Ludlowe comes at last,  
Where Corue into her stream herself doth headlong cast.  
With due attendance next, comes Ledwich and the Rhea.  
Then speeding her, as though sent post unto the Sea,  
Her native Shropshire leaves, and bids those Towns adieu,  
Her only sovereign Queen, proud Severne to pursue.  
When at her going out, those Mountains of command  
(The Clees, like loving Twins, and Stitterston that stand)  
Trans-severned, behold fair England towards the rise,  
And on their setting side, how ancient Cambria lies.  
Then Stipperston a hill, though not of such renown  
As many that are set here towards the going down,  
To those his own Allies, that stood not far away,  
Thus in behalf of Wales directly seemed to say;  
Dear Corndon, my delight, as thou art loved of me,  
And Breeden, as thou hop'st a Britain thought to be,  
To Cortock strongly cleave, as to our ancient friend,  
And all our utmost strength to Cambria let us lend.  
For though that envious Time injuriously have wrong  
From us those proper names did first to us belong,  
Yet for our Country still, stout Mountains let us stand.  
Here, every neighbouring Hill held up a willing hand,  
As freely to applaud what Stipperston decreed:  
And Hockstow when she heard the Mountains thus proceed,  
With echoes from her Woods, her inward joys expressed,  
To hear that Hill she loved, which likewise loved her best,  
Should in the right of Wales, his neighbouring Mountains stir,  
So to advance that place which might them both prefer;  
That she from open shouts could scarce herself refrain.  
When soon those other Rils to Severne which retain,  
And 't ended not on Team, thus of themselves do show  
The service that to her they absolutely owe.  
First Camlet cometh in, a Mountgomerian maid,  
Her source in Severns banks that safely having laid,  
Mele, her great Mistress next at Shrewsbury doth meet,  
To see with what a grace she that fair town doth greet;  
Into what sundry gires her wondered self she throws,  
And oft in-Iles the shore, as want only she flows;  
Of it, oft taking leave, oft turns, it to embrace;  
As though she only were enamoured of that place,  
Her foreintended course determined to leave,  
And to that most loved Town eternally to cleave:  
With much ado at length, yet bidding it adieu,  
Her journey towards the Sea doth seriously pursue.  
Where, as along the shores she prosperously doth sweep,  
Small Maybrooke maketh-in, to her enticing Deep.  
And as she lends her eye to 
* Bruge-North.  Bruge's lofty sight,  
That Forest-Nymph mild Morffe doth kindly her invite  
To see within her shade what pastime she could make:  
Where she, of Shropshire; I my leave of Severne take.  

Illustrations.  
STill are you in the Welsh March, and the chorography of this song includes itself, for the most, within Shropshires' part over Severne.  
That all without the Mound that Mercian Offa cast.  
Of the Marches in general you have to the next before. The 
a Caradoc Lhancaruan in Conan Tind●ethwy. Girald. Itinerar. 2. cap. 11. & Descript. cap. 15.  particular bounds have been certain parts of Dee, Wye, Severne, and Offas Dike. The ancientest is Severne, but a later is observed in a right line from 
* By Cheps●ow in Monmouth, Claudh-Offa See to the X. Song for Dee. A. D.CC. LXXX.  Strigoil-Castle upon Wye, to Chester upon Dee, which was so naturally a Mere between these two Countries Wales and England, that by apparent change of its channel towards either side superstitious judgement was used to be given of success in the following years battles of both nations; whence perhaps came it to be called Holy Dee, as the author also often uses. Twixt the mouth's of Dee and Wye in this line (almost C. miles long) was that Offas Dike cast, after such time as he had besides his before possessed Mercland, acquired by conquest even almost what is now England. King Harold 
b Higden. in Polychronic. 1. cap. 43.  made a law, that whatsoever Welsh transcended this Dike with any kind of weapon should have, upon apprehension, 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 chief territory of West Saxoni● (so affirms Malmesbury) which well understood impugns the opinion received for Wie● being a general Mere instituted by him, and withal shows you how to mend the Monks published text, where you read 
* He compelled Ludwall K. of All Wales, and Constantins' K. of Scots to leave their Crowns. Emendatio histori● Malmesburiensis lib. 2. cap. 6.  Ludwalum regem Omnium Wallensium, & Constantinum regem Scotorum cedere regnis compulit. For plainly this Ludwal (by whom he means Howel Dha in other Chronicles called Huwal) in athelstan's life time was not King of All Wales, but only of the South and Western parts with Powis, his cousin Edwall Voel then having North-wales; twixt which and the part of Howell conquered, this limit was proper to distinguish. Therefore either read 
* West-Wales, DCCCC. XX.VI.  Occidentalium Wallensium (for in Florence of Worcester and Roger of Hoveden that passage is with 
* West-Britons Caratacus Lancarbensis in Edwall. Vo●l Correctus.  Occidentalium Britonnum) or else believe that Malmesbury mistook Howel to be in athelstan's time, as he was after his death, sole Prince of all Wales. In this con●ecture I had aid from Lhancaruans History, which in the same page (as learned Lhuids' edition in English is) says, that Athelstan made the River 
* Cambalan or Camel.  Cambia the frontier towards Cornwall: but there, in requital, I correct him, and read Tambra i. Tamar, dividing Devonshire and Cornwall; as Malmesbury hath it expressly, and the matter-selfe enough persuades.  
Who drove the Giants hence, that of the earth were bred.  
Somewhat of the Giants to the first Song; fabulously supposed begotten by Spirits upon Dioclesian's or Danaus' daughters. But here the Author aptly terms 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 soil, calling them Aborigines and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as also for imitation of those Epithets of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉▪ and 
* Callimaeth. in hymn, iovis.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 among the Greeks, Terraefilij among the Latins, the very name of Giants being thence 
b Orpheus ap. Nat. Com. Mytholog 6. cap. 21.  derived, 

* Because they were bred of earth, and the dew of heaven.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Which misconceit I shall think abused the Heathen upon their ill understanding of Adam's creation 
c 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 terra.  and allegorique greatness, touched before out of jewish Fiction.  
Her Albanact; for aid, and to the Scythian clea●e.  
Britain's tripartit division by Brutes III. sons, Logrin, Camber and Albanact, whence all beyond Severne was styled Cambria, the now England Loegria, and Scotland Albania, is here showed you: which I admit, but as the rest of that nature, upon credit of our suspected Stories followed with sufficient justification by the Muse; alluding here to that opinion which deduces the Scots and their name from the Scythians. Arguments of this likelihood have you largely in our most excellent Antiquary. I only add, that by tradition of the Scythians themselves, they had very anciently a general name, titling them 
d Herodot. M●lpomene 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Scolots (soon contracted into Scots) whereas the Grecians called the Northern all 
e Ephor. ap. Strab. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. See to the IV. Song.  Scythians, perhaps the original 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 Lucian's title of Toxaris, is, as if you should say, an Archer. For, the word shoot being at first of the T●ntonique (which was very likely dispersed largely in the Northern parts) anciently was written nearer Schyth, as among other testimonies, the name of 
f In 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 forsan reliquia vocabuli 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ●●arcu● & punctorum variatio●●. Sagittanus. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Goropium Be●ceselan. 8. sive Amazoni●.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 i. the shooting finger, for the forefinger among our 
g Alur●d. leg. cap. 40.  Saxons.  
Three hundred years before Rome's great foundation laid.  
Take this with latitude: for between Aeneas Silvius King of the Latins, under whose time Brute is placed, to Numitor, in whose II. year Rome was built, intercedes above CCC.XL. and with such difference understand the Thousand until Caesar.  
And long before borne arms against the barbarous Hun.  
Our stories tell you of Humber King of Huns (a people that being Scythian, lived about those 
a Agathias lib. ●. Maeotidis Palus.  parts which you now call Mar delle Zabach) his attempt and victory against Albanact, conflict with Logrin, and death in this River, from whence they will the name. Distance of his country, and the unlikely relation weakens my historical faith. Observe you also the first transmigration of the Huns, mentioned by Procopius, Agathias, others, and you will think this very different from truth. And well could I think by conjecture (with a great 
b Leland. ad Cyg. Cant. in Hull.  Antiquary) that the name was first (or thence derived) 
* Abus dictum i●●hoc aestuarium Ptolemaeo.  Habren or Aber which in British, as appears by the names Abergevenni, Abertewt, Aberhodn● signifying the fall of the River Gevenni, Tewi, Rhodni, is as much as a 
c Girald. Itinerar. cap. 2. & 4.  rivers mouth in English, and fits itself specially, in that most of the Yorkshire Rivers here cast themselves into one confluence for the Ocean. Thus perhaps was Severne first Hafren, and not from the maid there drowned, as you have before; but for that, this no place.  
To Stamford in this Isle seemed Athens to transfer.  
Look to the III. Song for more of Bladud and his Bath's. Some testimony 
d Merlin▪ apud Hard. cap. 25. ex ijsdem & Balaeus.  is, that he went to Athens, brought thence with him IV. Philosophers, and instituted by them a University at Stanford in Lincolnshire; But, of any persuading credit I find none. Only of later time, that profession of learning was there, authority is frequent. For when through discording parts among the Scholars (reigning Ed. III) a division in Oxford was into the Northern and Southern faction, the Northern (before under Hen. III. also was the like to Northampton) made secession to this Stamford, and there professed, until upon humble suit by Robert of Stratford, Chancellor of Oxford, the K. 
e Io Cai. antiq. Cant. 2. Br. T●in. lib. 3. apolog. Oxon. §. 115. & Seqq.  by edict, and his own presence, prohibited them; whence, afterward, also was that Oath taken by Oxford Graduate, that they should not profess at Stamford. White of Basingstoch otherwise guesses at the cause of this difference, making it the Pelagian heresy, and of more ancient time, but erroneously. Unto this refer that supposed prophesy of Merlin: 
Doctrinae studium quod nunc viget ad 
* Oxen-ford.  vada Boum.  
Ante finem secli celebrabitur ad 
* Stane-ford.  vada Saxi.  Which you shall have Englished in that solemnized marriage of Thames and Medway, by a most admired 
f Spens. Fa●ry Q. lib. 4. Cant. 11. Stanz. 35.  Muse of our nation, thus with advantage: 
And after him the fatal Welland went,  
That, if old saws prove true (which God forbid)  
Shall drown● all 
* The maritime part of Lincolnshire, where, Welland a River.  Holland with his excrement,  
And shall see Stamford, though now homely hid,  
Then shine in learning more than ever did  
Cambridge or Oxford, England's goodly beams.  Nor can you apply this, but to much younger time then Bladuds reign.  
— As he those four proud streets began.  
Of them you shall have better declaration to the XVI. Song.  
There balancing his sword against her base gold.  
In that story, of Brennus and his Gauls taking Rome, is affirmed, that by Senatory authority P. Sulpitius (as a Tribune) was Committee to transact with the enemy for leaving the Roman territory; the price was 
a Li●. d●c. lib. 5. Plutarch. in Camille.  agreed M. pound of gold; unjust weights were offered by the Gauls, which Sulpitius disliking, so far were those insolent conquerors from mitigation of their oppressing purpose, that (as for them all) Brennus to the first unjustice of the balance, added the poiz of his Sword also, whence, upon a murmuring complaint among the Romans, crying 
* woe to the Conquered 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. ver● Stephan. Forcatulum lib. 2 de Gall. philosoph▪ qui haec inter examinand● f●d●, ●st cum aliis, in historiâ ipsâ Lapsus est.  Valerio Victis, came that to be as proverb applied to the conquered.  
Against the Delphian power yet shaked his ireful sword.  
Like liberty as others, takes the Author in affirming that Brennus, which was General to the Gauls in taking Rome, to be the same which overcame Greece, and assaulted the Oracle. But the truth of story stands thus: Rome was afflicted by one Brennus about the year 
b Hal●carnass. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Li●. 5.  CCC.LX after, the building, when the Gauls had such a Cadmeian victory of it, that fortune converted by martial opportunity, they were at last by Camillus so put to the sword, that a reporter of the slaughter was not left, as Livy and Plutarch (not impugned by Polybius, as Polyd●re hath mistaken) tell us. About CX. years after, were tripartit excursions of the Gauls; of an army under C●rethrius into Thrace; of the like under Belgius or Belgius into Macedon and Illyricum; of another under one Brennus and Acichorius into Pannonia. What success Belgius had with Ptolemy, surnamed 
* Thunderbolt.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, is discovered in the same 
d Pausanias' in Ph●●i●.  authors which relate to us Brennus his wasting of Greece, with his violent, but somewhat voluntary, death; but part of this army, either divided by mutiny, or left, after Apollo's revenge, betook them to habitation in Thrace about the now Constantinople, where first under their King Comontorius (as Polybius, but Livy saith under Lutatius and Lomnorius, which name perhaps you might correct by Polybius) they ruled their neighbouring States with imposition of tribute, and at last, growing too populous, sent (as it seems) those colonies into Asia, which in 
e Strab. lib. ●st.  Gallograecia left sufficient steps of their ancient names. My compared classic 
f Polyb. l. a. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. & Li●der. ● lib. 5. dec. 4. lib. 8. Strab. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Pausan. Phocic. 1. Appian. Illyric. justin. lib. 24. & 25. Plutarch. Ca●●llo. Ca●erùm plerisque Delphis in●ectâ à Pha●b● grandiu● perempt●s, qui fuerunt, relics in Aegyptum conductor sub stipendijs Ptolemai Philadelphi meruisse alt vetus Scholiastes Gra●. ad hymn. Callimach. in De●um.  authors will justify as much; nor scarce find I material opposition among them in any particulars; only Trogus, epitomized by justine, i● therein, by confusion of time and actions, somewhat abused; which hath caused that error of those which take Historical liberty (Poetical is allowable) to affirm Brennus which sacked Rome, and him, that died at Delphos, the same. Examination of time makes it apparently false; nor indeed doth the British Chronologie endure our Brennus to be either of them, as Polydore and Buchanan have observed. But want of the British name moves nothing against it▪ seeing the people of this Western part were all, until a good time after those wars, styled by the name of Gauls or C●lts; and those which would have ransacked the Oracle are said by Callimachus to have come 
— 
* From the utmost West.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Which as well fit●●● as Gaul. And thus much also observe, that those names of Brennus and Belin●us, being of great note, both in signification and personal eminency; &, likely enough, there being many of thesame name in Gaul and Britain, in several ages such identity made confusion in story. For the first in this relation appears what variety was of it; as also Urenhin and Brennin in the British are but significant words for King; and peradventure almost as ordinary a name among these Westernes, as Pharaoh and Ptolemy in Egypt, Agag among the Amalekits, Arfaces, Nicomedes, Alevada, Soph●, Caesar, Oising, among the Parthians, Bithynians, Thessalian●, Persians, Romans, and our Kentish Kings, which the course of History shows you. For the other, you may see it usual 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 seem to be in 
g Vet. Inscript. in Cumbria, & apud ●os. Scalig. ad Auson. 1. cap. 9 & V. Rhodigin. lib. 17. cap 28. Plura de Belino, sive Beleno. i. Apolline Galli●o Pet. Pithaeus Advers. subsec. lib. 1. cap. 3. qui Belenum 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Phoebie epitheton autumat. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. notas Camd. ad N●mismata. & Nos ad Cant. IX.  Abellius a Gaulish and Bela-tucadre a British God) was the name among them of a worshipped Idol, as appears in Ausonius; and thesame with Apollo, which also by a most ancient British coin, stamped with Apollo playing on his Harp, circumscribed with CV NO-BELIN, is show'd to have been expressly among the Britons. Although I know, according to their use, it might be added to Cuno (which was the first part of many of their regal names, as you see in Cuneglas, Cyngetorix, Congolitan, and others) to make a significant word, as if you should say, the yellow King; for Belin in British is yellow. But seeing the very name of their Apollo so well fitted with that colour, 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  which to Apollo is commonly attributed (& observe that their names had usually some note of colour in them, by reason of their custom of painting themselves) I suppose they took it as a fortunate concurrence to bear an honoured Deity in their title as we see in the names of Merodach and Euil-Merodach among the Babylonian Kings from Merodach 
h lir●●e. cap. 50.  one of their false gods; and like examples may be found among the old Emperors. Observe also that in British genealogies, they ascend always 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 Hell 
i Cael. Rhodig. Antiq. Lect. 1. cap. 6.  in the Punic tongue signifying Phoebus, & turned into Belus: but I will not therewith trouble you. Howsoever, by this I am persuaded (whensoever the time were of our Belinus) that Bolgus in Pausanias, and Belgius in justine were mistook for Belinus, as perhaps also Prausus in Strabo (〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. supplying 
k Eustath. ad Dionys. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  oftimes the room of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.) generated of Br●nnus corrupted. In the story I dare follow none of the Modern erroneously transcribing Relaters or seeming Correctors, but have, as I might, took it from the best selfe-fountaines, and only upon them, for trial, I put myself.  
— whence Cymbrica it took.  
That Northern promontory now Iu●land, part of the Danish Kingdom, is called in Geographers Cymbrica Chersonesus from name of the people inhabiting 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 nearer truth and derive them from 
* Transmutation of G. into C. was, anciently, often and easy, as Lipsius shows. lib. de pronunciat. ling. Latin. cap. 13.  Gomer, son to japhet▪ who▪ with his posterity, had the Northwesterne part of the world; then shall you set, as it were▪ the accent upon Chersones giving the more significant note of the Country; the name of Cymbrians, Cimmerians, Cambrians, and Cumrian●, all as one insubstance being very comprehensive in these climates; And perhaps, because this promontory lay out so far, 
l Plutarch. in Mario. & Herodot. lib. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  under near LX. degrees latitude (almost at the utmost of Ptolemies geography) and so had the first Winter days no longer then between V. and VI hours, therein somewhat (and more than other neighbouring parts of that people, 
m Odyss. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉—  having no particular name) agreeing with Homer's attribute of darkness to the Cimmerians, it had more specially this title.  
To wise Molmutius laws her Martian first did frame.  
Particulars of Molmutius laws, of Church-liberty, freedom of ways, husbandry, and divers other are in the British story, affirming also that Q. Martia made a book of laws, translated afterward, and titled by K. Alfred Mercen-lage. Indeed it appears that there were three sorts of 
* Look to the XI. Song.  laws in the Saxon Heptarchy, Mercan-lage, Dan-lage & ƿestsaxen-lage i. the Mercian, 
a Gernas. Tilburiensis de Scaccario.  Danish, and Westsaxon law; all which three had their several territories, and were in divers things compiled into one volume by Cnut, and examined in that Norman constitution of their new Commonwealth. But as the Danish and Westsaxon had their name from particular people▪ so it seems, had the Mercian from that Kingdom of Mercland, limited with the Lancashire River Mersey toward Northumberland, and joining to Wales, having either from the River that name, or else from the word 
* A limit or bond.  Marc, because it bounded upon most of the other Kingdoms; as you may see to the XI. Song.  
— in whose eternal name,  
Great London still shall live—  
King Luds re-edifying Troynovant (first built by Brute) and thence leaving the name of Caer Lud afterward turned (as they say) into London is not unknown, scarce to any that hath but looked on Ludgates inner frontispiece; and in old 
b Rob. Glocestrens.  rhymes thus I have it expressed: 
Walls 
* But it is affirmed that K Coils, daughter, mother to Constantine the great, wailed this first, and Colchester also, Huntingdon lib. 1. 〈◊〉 Simon Dunelmens. ap. Stou. in notiti● Londini. I shall presently speak of her also.  he let make all about and gates up and down  
And after Lud that was is name he clupede it Luds town.  
The heart gate of the town that ●ut stout there and is  
He let hit clupie Ludgate after is own name ●wis.  
He let him though he was dead bury at thulke gate  
Therefore yet after him me clupeth it Ludegate.  
The toun me clupeth that is wide couth  
And now me clupeth it London that is lighter in the mouth.  
And new Troy it ●et ere, and now it is so ago  
That London it is now icluped and worth ever more.   
judicious reformers of fabulous report I know have more serious derivations of the name: and seeing conjecture is free, I could imagine, it might be called at first Lhan Dien i. the Temple of Diana, as Lhan Dewi, Lhan Stephan, Lhan Padern Uanwr, Lhan Uair i. S. Dewy's, S. Stephans, S. Pattern the great, S. Marry; and Verulam is by H. Lhuid, derived from Uer-lhan i. the Church upon the River Ver, with divers more such places in Wales: and so afterward by strangers turned into Londinium, and the like. For, that Diana and her brother Apollo (under name of Belin) were two great Deities among the Britons, 
London derived.  what is read next before, Caesar's testimony of the Gauls; and that she had her Temple there where Paul's is, relation in Camden discloses to you. Now, that the antic course was to title their Cities oftimes by the name of their power adored in them, is plain by Beth-el among the Hebrews, Heliopolis (which in holy Writ is 
c jirme cap. 43. comm. ult.  called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉) in Egypt, and the same in Greece, Phoenicia, elsewhere; and by Athens, named from Minerva. But especially from this supposed deity of Diana (whom in substance Homer no less gives the Epithet of 
* Patron of Cities. v. Homer, hymn. ad Dian.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 then to Pallas) have divers had their titles: as Artemistum in Italy, and Eubaea, and that B●bastis in Egypt, so called from the same word, signifying in Egyptian, both a Cat and Diana.  
Those armed stakes in Thames—  
He means that which now we call Coway stakes by Otelands, where only, the Thames being without Boat passable, the Britons fixed both on the bank of their side, and in the water 
e Bed. lib. 1. cap. 2  sharp stakes, to prevent the Romans coming over; but in vain, as the stories tell you.  
And more than Caesar got, three Emperors could not win.  
Understand not that they were resisted by the Britons, but that the three successors of julius i. Augustus, Tiberius, and Caligula never so much as with force attempted the Isle, although the last after K. Cunobelins-sonne Adminius his traitorous revolting to him, in a seeming martial vehemency, made 
f Sueton. lib. 4. cap. 44. & 46. & Dio Cassius.  all arm to the British voyage, but suddenly in the Germane shore (where he than was) like himself, turned the design to a jest, and commanded the army to gather Cockles.  
Came with his body naked, his hair down to his waist.  
In this Caradoe (being thesame which at large you have in Tacitus and Dio, under name of Caratacus and Cataracus, and i● by some Scottish Historians drawn much too far Northward) the author expresses the ancient form of a Britons habit. Yet I think not that they were all naked, but, as is affirmed 
g Polybi●s hist. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  of the Gauls, down only to the Navel; so that on the discovered part might be seen (to the terror of their enemies) those pictures of Beasts, with which 
h Solin. polyhist. cap. 35.  they painted themselves. It is justifiable by Caesar, that they used to shave all except their head & upper lip, & ware very long hair; but in their old Coins I see no such thing warranted: and in later 
d Girald. descript. cap. 10.  times about CCCC. years since, it is especially attributed to them that they always cut their heads close for avoiding Absalon's misfortune.  
The Colony long kept at Maldon—  
Old Historians and Geographers call this Camalodunum, which some 
k Hector. Boet. lib. 3.  have absurdly thought to be Camelot in the Scottish Shrifedome of Stirling, others have sought it elsewhere: but the English Light of antiquity (Camden) hath surely found it at this Maldon in Essex, where was a Romish Colony, as also at 
l Antiq. Inscript. Lapid●ae & Numm.  Gloucester, Chester, York, and perhaps at Colchester, which proves expressly (against vulgar allowance) that there was a time when in the chiefest parts of this Southern Brittany the Roman laws were used, 
* V. Fortiscut. de laud. leg. Ang. cap. 17. & Vitum Basin stoch. lib. 4. not. 36. Roman laws used in Britain.  as every one that knows the meaning of a Colony (which had all their rights and institutions 
m Agellius lib. 16. cap. 13.  deduced with it) must confess. This was destroyed upon discontentment taken by the Iceus and Trinobants (now Norfolk, Suffolk, Middlesex, and Essex men) for intolerable wrongs done to the wife and posterity of Prasutagus King of the Iceus by the 
n Tacitus. annal. 14 lib●.  Romans, which the K. (as others in like form) thought, but vainly, to have prevented by instituting Nero, than Emperor, his heir. The signs, which the author speaks of, were, a strange, and, as it were, voluntary falling down of the Goddess Victories statue, erected by the Romans here; women, as distracted, singing their overthrow; the Ocean looking bloody; uncouth howl in their assemblies and such like. Petilius Corealis, Lieutenant of the IX. Legion, coming to aid, lost all his footmen, and betook himself with the rest to his fortified Tents. But for this read the History.  
By poison end her days.—  
So Tacitus; but Dio, that she died of sickness. Her name is written diversly Voadicia, Boodicia, Bunduica, and Boudicea: she was wife to Prasutagus, of whom last before.  
A greater foe to us in our own bowels bred.  

Pictorum in Britannia (potius Pictonum ita. n. legitur) primus meminit Romanorum Panegyristes ille inter alios, qui Constantinum encomijs adloquitur, & si placet adeas Humfred. L●uid. Breu. Brit. & Buchanan. lib. 2. rer. Scotic. aut Camdeni Scotos & Pictos. Rob. Glocestrensi dicuntur Picars.  Every story, of the declining British state, will tell you what miseries were endured by the hostile eruptions of Scots and Picts into the Southern part. For the passage here of them, know, that the Scottish stories, which begin their continued Monarchique government at Ferguze, affirm the Picts (from the Scythian territories) to have arrived in the now jutland, and thence passed into Scotland some CCL, years after the Scots first entering Britain, which was, by account, about LXXX. years before our saviours birth, and thence continued these a State by themselves, until K. Kenneth about DCCC.XL. years after Christ utterly supplanted them. Others, as Bede and his followers, make them elder in the Isle than the Scots, and fetch them out of Ireland; the British story (that all may be discords) says, they entered Albania under conduct of one Roderic their King (for so you must read in 
* Galfredus Monumethensis Correctus, & ibidem vice 〈◊〉 Maesmarius lega Vestmaria.  Monmouth and not Londric, as the Print in that and much other mistakes) and were valiantly opposed by Marius then King of Britons, Roderic slain, and Cathenes given them for habitation. This Marius is placed with Vespasian, & the gross differences of time make all suspicious; so that you may as well believe none of them, as any one. Rather adhere to learned Camden, making the Picts very genuine Britons, distinguished only by accidental name, as in him you may see more largely.  
Arviragus of ours first taking to protect.  
His marriage with (I know not what) Genissa, daughter to Claudius, the habitude of friendship twixt Rome and him, after composition with Vespasian then, under the Emperor, employed in the British war, the common story relates. This is Armitagus, which Juvenal 
o Satyr. 4.  speaks of. Polydore refers him to Nero's time, others rightly to Domitian, because indeed the Poet 
p Suidas in Iwenali.  then flourished. That fabulous Hector Boetius makes him the same with Phasuiragus, as he calls him, in Tacitus; he means Prasutagus, having misread Tacitus his copy.  
This happiness we have Christ crucified to know.  
Near C.LXXX. after Christ (the Chronologie of Bede herein is plainly false and observe what I told you of that kind to the IV. Song) this Lucius upon request to Pope Eleutherius received at the hands of 
q These names are very differently written. S. George's cross.  ●ugatius and Damianus, holy Baptism; yet so, that by joseph of Arimathia (of whom to the III. Song) seeds of true Religion were here before sown: by some I find it 
r Ex Nennio Harding. cap. 48. Ast Codicesij, quos consuluisse me Nennij antiquos con●igit huiusce rei parùm sunt memores.  without warrant, affirmed that he converted Arviragus, 
And gave him then a shield of silver white.  
A Cross endlong and overthwart full perfect,  
These arms were used through all Britain  
For a common sign each man to know his nation  
From enemies, which now we call certain.  
S. George's arms—   
But thus much collect, that, although until Lucius we had not a Christian King (for you may well suspect, rather deny, for want of better authority, this of Arviragus) yet (unless you believe the tradition of Gundafer K. of India, 
First Christian King in the world.  
a Abdias hist. Apostolic. lib. 9 Euseb. lib. 1. cap. 13.  converted by S. Thomas, or Abagar 
b Nicet. Choniat. in Andronic. Comnen. lib. 2.  K of Edessa, to whom those letters written, as is supposed, by our saviours own hand, kept as a precious relic in 
c Nicephor. Callist. lib. 2. cap. 7. & 8.  Constantinople until the Emperor Isaacius Angelus, as my authors say, were sent) it is apparent that This Island had the first Christian King in the world, and clearly in Europe, so that you cite not Tiberius his private seeming Christianity (which is observed out of 
d Distinct. 80 c. in illis. Clemens PP.  Tertullian) even in whose time also Gildas affirms, Britain was comforted with wholesome beams 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 custom (derived from a communicable attribute given by the Popes) that name of Most Christian should better fit our Sovereigns then the French. This Lucius, by help of those two Christian aids, is said to have, in room of III. Arch- Flamius and XXVIII. Flamens (through whose doctrine, polluting sacrifices, and idolatry reigned here in stead of true service) instituted III. Archbishopriques at London, York, and Caer-leon upon uske, & XXVIII. Bishopriques; of them, all beyond Humbre subject to York; all the now Wales to Caer-leon; to London, the now England with Cornwall. And so also was the custom in other Countries, even grounded upon S. Peter's own command, to make substitution of Archbishops or patriarchs to Arch- Flamens, and Bishops to Flamens. if you believe a 
d Distinct. 80 c. in illis. Clemens PP.  Pope's assertion. For York, there is now a Metropolitan Sea; Caerleon had so until the change spoken of to the V. Song. And London, the Cathedral Church being at S. Peter's in Cornhill, until translation of the Pall 
e V. Kenulph in Epist. ad Leonem PP. apud G. Malmesb. lib. 1. de reg. & 1. de Pontifie. vide Basingstoch. hist. 9 not. 11. Stou. Survey of London. pag. 479.  to Canterbury by Augustine, sent hither by Gregory the I. under K. Ethelbert, according to a prophesy of Merlin, that Christianity should fail, and then revive when the See of London did adorn Canterbury, as, after coming of the Saxons, it did. This moved that ambitious Gilbert of Folioth Bishop of London to challenge the Primacy of England; for which he is bitterly taxed by a great 
f 
joann. Carn●tens. in Epistol. 272.  
Helen mother to Constantine.  
Constantine born in Britain.   Clerk of the same time. If I add to the British glory that this Lucius was cause of like conversion in Bavaria and Rhetia, I should out of my bounds. The learned Mark Velser, and others, have enough remembered it.  
Constantius worthy wife—  
That is Helen, wife to Constantius or Constans Chlorus the Emperor, and mother to Constantine the great, daughter to Coil King of Britain, where Constantine was by her brought forth. Do not object Nicophorus Callistus that erroneously affirms him borne in Dropanum of Bythinia, or jul. Firmicus, 
g Matheseus lib. 1. cap. 4. , that says at Tarsus, upon which testimony (not uncorrupted) a great Critic 
h Lips. de Rom. magnitud. lib. 4. cap. 11. nimium Lapsus.  hath violently offered to deprive us both of him and his mother, affirming her a Bithynian, nor take advantage of Cedrenus, that will have Dacia his birth soil. But our Histories, and, with them, the Latin Ecclesiastic relation (in passages of her invention of the Cross, and such like) allowed also by Cardinal Baronius, make her thus a British woman. And for great Constantine's birth in this land you shall have authority; against which I wonder how Lipsius durst oppose his conceit. In an old Panegyrist, 
i Panegyric. dixerint licet Maximiano, etc. , speaking to Constantine: 
* He freed Britain of bondage, Thou enobledest it with thy birth.  Liberavit ille (he means his father) Britannias servitute, tueti●m nobiles illic Oriendo f●cisti; and another, 
* O happy Britain that first of all sawest Constantine. Panegyric. ●acerem. Constantine.  O fortunata & nunc omnibus beatior terris Britannia, qua Constantinum Caesarem prima vidisti. These might persuade, that Firmicus were corrupted, seeing they lived when they might know as much of this as he. Nicephorus and C●dr●nus are of much later time, and deserve no undoubted credit. But in certain oriental admonitions 
k Constantin. Perphyrogennet. de administ. twist imperio cap. 29.  of State (newly published by john Meursius' professor of Greek story at London) the Emperor Constantine Perphyrogennetes advises his son Romanus, that he should not take him a wife of alien blood, 
Io. L●uin●um ad Panegyric 5. haùt multùm hîc moramur.  because all people dissonant from the government and manners of the Empire by a law of Constantine, established in S. Sophy's Church, were prohibited the height of that glory, excepting only the Franks, allowing them this honour 
* Because he was borne in their parts.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which might make you imagine him borne in Gaul; let it not move you, but observe that this Porphyrogennetes lived about DCC. years since, when it was (& among the Turks still is) ordinary with these Greeks to call 
a Histor. Orientales passim & Themata Constantini, cum supra citato libro. Europeans called Franks.  all (especially the Western) Europeans by the name of Frankes, as they did themselves Romans. Why then might not we be comprehended, whose name, as English, they scarce, as it seems, knew of, calling us 
b Nicet. Choniat. 2. Isaac. Angel. §. ult. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Inclins; and indeed the indefinite form of speech, in the author I cite, shows as if he meant some remote place by the Franks, admitting he had intended only but what we now call French. If you can believe one of our countrymen 
c G. Stephanides de Londino. Basingstoch. hist. 6. not. 10.  that lived about Hen. II. he was borne in London; others think he was borne at York: of that, I determine not. Of this Helen, her Religion, finding the Cross, good deeds in walling London & Colchester (which in honour of her, they say, bears a Cross between four Crowns, and for the Invention she is yet celebrated in Holy-rood day in May) & of this Constantine her son, a mighty and religious Emperor (although I know him taxed for no small faults by Ecclesiastic writers) that in this air received his first light and life, 
d Rob. Glocestrins.  our Britons vaunt not unjustly: as in that spoken to K. Arthur. 
Now it worth iended that Sibile the sage seed hinore  
That there ssold of Brutaine three men be ybore  
That ssolde win the aumpyr of Rome; of fifty ydone it is  
As of 
* Belinus.  Belly and Constantin, and thou art the thread y wis.  For this Sibylle who she was, I must take day to tell you.  
Against the Arrian Sect at Arles having run.  
In the II. Council at Arles in Provence, held under Constantine and Sylvester, is subscribed the name of Restitutus Bishop of London, 
I. Tom. Council.  the like respectively in other Counsels; spoken of by the Author. It is not unfit to note here that in later time the use hath been (when and where Rome's Supremacy was acknowledged) to send always to general Counsels, out of every Christian State, some Bishops, Abbots and Priors▪ and I find it affirmed by the Clergy under 
f Roger Hoveden. fol. 332.  Hen. II. that, to a general Council, only four Bishops are to be sent out of England. So, by reason of this course added to State-allowance afterward at home, were those Canons received into our law; as of Bigamy in the Council of Lions, interpreted by Parliament under Ed. I Of Pluralities in the Council of Lateran, held by Innocent III. reigning our K. john; and the law of Laps in Benefices had so its ground from that Council of Lateran in M.C.LXXIX. under Alexander the III. whither, for our part, were sent Hugh Bishop of Durham, john Bishop of Norwich, Robert Bishop of Hereford, and Rainold Bishop of Bath, with divers Abbots, where the 
g G. Nubrigens. (cuius editionem nuperam & Io. Picardi annotationes consulas) lib 3. cap. ●. & Hovedenꝰ habent ipsas, quae sunt, Constitutiones.  Canon was made for presentation within six months, and title of Laps, given 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 us, not also their difference between a lay 
h Extravag. Concess. praebend. c. ●.  and Ecclesiastic patron for number of the months, 
i 6. Dicret. tit. iure patronat. §. Verunt. c. vnic.  allowing the lay-man but four, yet shows itself certainly to be the original of that custom anciently & now used in the Ordinaries collation. And hither Henry of Bracton refers it expressly; by whom you may amend john le Briton, 
k 
Lib. 4. tract. 2. cap. 6.  
Brittonus emendatus cap. des exceptions 92   and read Lateran in stead of Lions about this same matter. Your conceit, truly joining these things, cannot but perceive that Canons & constitutions, in Pope's Counsels, absolutely never bound us in other form then, fitting them by the square of English law & policy, our reverend Sages and Baronage allowed and 
n D. Ed. Coke lib. de iure Regis ecclesiastic.  interpreted them, who in their formal 
o Regist. Orig. fol. 42.  Writs would mention them as law and custom of the Kingdom, and not otherwise.  
Eleven thousand maids sent those our friends again.  
Our common story affirms, that in time of Gratian the Emperor, Conan King of Armorique Britain: (which was filled with a Colony of this Isle by this Conan and Maximus, otherwise Maximian that slew Gratian) having war with the neighbouring Gauls, 
See to the IX. Song.  desired of Dinoth Regent of Cornwall, or (if you will) of our Britain (by nearness of blood; so to establish and continue love in the posterity of both countries) that he might himself match with Dinoth's daughter Ursula, and with her a competent multitude of Virgins might be sent over to furnish his unwived Bachelors: whereupon were XI.M. of the nobler blood with Ursula and LX.M. of meaner rank (elected out of divers parts of the Kingdom) Shipped at London for satisfaction of this request. 
But see to the XIIII. Song, of Coventry.  In the coast of Gaul, they were by tempest dispersed; some ravished by the Ocean; others for chaste denial of their maidenheads to Guaine and Melga, Kings of Huns and Picts (whom Gratian had animated against Maximus, as usurping title of the British Monarchy) were miserably put to the sword in some Germane coast, whither misfortune carried them. 
Rob. Glocestrens.  But because the Author slips it over with a touch, you shall have it in such old Verse, as I have.  
This maidens were ygadred and to London come  
Mani were glad there of and well sorrisome  
That 
p They.  hiis ssold of land wend and nevest 
q There.  hor friend ice  
And some to lese hor maidenhod wives warrant to be.  
though hii were in ssipes ydone, and in the se ver were  
So great tempest there come that drove hem here and there.  
So that the 
r Most part.  Mestedel adreined were in the se  
And to other londs some ydrive, that ne come never 
s Again.  age.  
A King there was of Hungry, Guaine was his name  
And Melga K. 
t Of the Picts.  Picardy that coushe inou of fame,  
The waters vor to lokis about the se hii were  
A company of this maidens so that hiis met there,  
To hor folly hii would 
u Them take.  home nime and hor men also  
Ac the maidens would rather die than concenty thereto  
Thomas wend vorth the 
x Lewd.  luther men and the maiden's slow eachone  
So that to the las●e Brutaine there ne come alive none.  
Some lay all this wickedness absurdly (for time endures it not) to Atilla's 
y Hector. Boet. hist. Scotic. 7. ex antiquioribus, verùm falsi reis.  charge, who reigned King of Huns about CCCC.L. (above LX. years after Gratian) and affirm their suffering of this (as they call it) matryrdome at Cologne, whither, in at the mouth of Rhine, they were carried; others also particularly tell you that there were four companions to Ursula, in greatness and honour, their 
z Vsuard. Martyrolog. 21. Octob.  names being Pynnosa. Cordula, Eleutheria, Florentia, and that under these were to every of the XI.M. one Precedent, jota, Benigna, Clementia, Sapientia, Carpophora, Columba, Benedicta, Odilia, Celyndris, Sibylla and Lucia: and that, custom at Cologne hath excluded all other bodies from the place of their burial. The strange multitude of LXXI. M. Virgin's thus to be transported, with the difference of time (the most excellent note to examine truth of history by) may make you doubt of the whole report. I will not justify it, but only admonish thus, that those our old Stories are in this followed by that great Historian 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 honour of the XI.M. have dedicated the XI. day of our October. But indeed how they can stand with what in some copies of Nennius 
z Sunt enim antiqui Codices quibus hoc meritò deest nec. n. ut glossema illud non irreptásse, sentire sum potis.  we read, I cannot see: it is there reported, that those Britons which went thither with Maximus (the same man and time with the former) took them Gaulish wives, and cut out their tongues, left they should possess their children of Gaulish language; whence our Welsh called them afterward 
* Half silent.  Lehit-Widion, because they spoke confusedly. I see 
a Paul. Merul. Cosmog. part● 2. lib. 3. cap. 15.  that yet there is great affinity twixt the British Armorique, and the Welsh, the first (to give you a taste) saying, Hon tad pehunii sou en efaou, the other, En tad your hwn ydwit yn y ne foedd for Our Father which art in heaven; but I suspect extremely that fabulous Tongue-cutting, & would have you, of the two, believe rather the Virgins, were it not for the exorbitant number, and that, against infallible credit, our Historians mix with it Gratians surviving Maximus; a kind of fault that makes often the very truth doubtful.  
That from the Scythian poor whence they themselves derive.  
He means the Saxons, whose name, after learned men, is to the IV. Song derived from a Scythian nation. It pleases the Muse in this passage to speak of that original, as mean and unworthy of comparison with the Trojan British, drawn out of jupiter's blood by Venus, Anchises, and Aeneas; I justify her phrase, for that the Scythian was indeed poor, yet voluntarily, not through want, living commonly in field-tents; and (as our Germans in Tacitus) so Stoical, as not to care for the future, having provision for the present, from nature's liberality. But, if it were worth examining, you might find the Scythian as noble and worthy a nation as any red of; and such a one as the English and others might be as proud to derive themselves from, as any which do search for their ancestors glory in Trojan ashes. If you believe the old report 
b Herodot. Melpom. ♌.  of themselves, then can you not make them less than descended by Targitaus from jupiter and Borysthenes; if what the greeks, who, as afterward the Romans, accounted and styled all barbarous, except themselves; than you must draw their pedigree through Agathyrsus, Gelonus and Scytha, from Hercules; neither of these have, in this kind, their superior. If among them you desire learning, remember Zamolxis, Diceneus, and Anacharsis before the rest. For although to some of these, other Patronymiques are given, yet know that anciently (which for the present matter observe seriously) as all, Southward, were called Aethiopians, all Eastward, Indians, all West, Celts, so all Northernes' were styled Scythians; as 
c Apud Strab. lib ●.  Ephorus is Author. I could add the honourable allegories, of those their golden Yoke, Plough, Hatchet, & Cup sent from heaven, wittily enough delivered by 
d Amazonic. Becceselan. 8.  Goropius, with other conjectural testimonies of their worth. But I abstain from such digression.    

  

The ninth Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
The Muse here Merioneth vaunts,  
And her proud Mountains highly chants.  
The Hills and Brooks, to bravery bend,  
Stand for precedence from Descent:  
The Rivers for them showing there  
The wonders of their Pimblemere.  
Proud Snowdon gloriously proceeds  
With Cambria's native Princes deeds.  
The Muse then through Carnarvan makes,  
And Mon (now Anglesey) awakes  
To tell her ancient Druids guise,  
And manner of their Sacrifice.  
Her Rillets she together calls;  
Then back for Flint and Denbigh falls.  
OF all the Cambrian Shires their heads that bear so high,  
And farth'st survey their soils with an ambitious eye,  
Mervinia 
a Merionethshire.  for her Hills, as for their matchless crowds,  
The nearest that are said to kiss the wandering clouds,  
Especial Audience craves, offended with the throng,  
That she of all the rest neglected was so long:  
Alleging for herself; When through the Saxons pride,  
The Godlike race of Brute to Severns setting side  
Were cruelly enforced, her Mountains did relieve  
Those, whom devouring war else everywhere did grieve.  
And when all Wales beside (by Fortune or by might)  
Unto her ancient foe resigned her ancient right,  
A constant Maiden still she only did remain,  
§. The last her genuine laws which stoutly did retain.  
And as each one is praised for her peculiar things;  
So only she is rich, in Mountains, Meres, and Springs,  
And holds herself as great in her superfluous waist,  
As others by their Towns, and fruitful tillage graced.  
And therefore, to recount her Rivers, from their 
* Mere or Pools, from whence Rivers spring.  Lins,  
Abbridging all delays, Mervinia thus begins;  
Though Dovy, which doth far her neighbouring Floods surmount  
(Whose course, for hers alone Mountgomery doth accounted)  
Hath Angel for her own, and Keriog she doth clear,  
With Towin, Gwedall then, and Dulas, all as dear,  
Those tributary streams she is maintained withal:  
Yet, boldly may I say, her rising and her fall  
My Country calleth hers, with many another Brook,  
That with their crystal eyes on the Vergivian look.  
To Dovy next, of which Desunny seaward drives,  
Lingorrill goes alone: but plenteous Avon strives  
The first to be at Sea; and faster her to high,  
Clear Kessilgum comes in, with Hergum by and by.  
So Derry, Moothy draws, and Moothy calleth Cain,  
Which in one channel meet, in going to the Main,  
As to their utmost power to lend her all their aids:  
So Atro by the arm Lanbeder kindly leads.  
And Velenrid the like, observing th'others law,  
Calls Cunnell; she again, fair Drurid forth doth draw,  
That from their mother Earth, the rough Mervinia, pay  
Their mixed plenteous Springs, unto the lesser Bay  
§. Of those two noble arms into the Land that bear,  
Which through 
a North-wales.  Gwinethia be so famous every where,  
On my Carnarvan side by nature made my Mound,  
As Dovy doth divide the Cardiganian ground.  
The peatly Conwayes head, as that of holy Dee,  
Renowned Rivers both, their rising have in me:  
So, Lavern and the Lue, themselves that headlong throw  
§. Into the spacious Lake, where Dee unmixed doth flow.  
Trowerrin takes his stream, here from a native Lin;  
Which, out of Pimblemere when Dee himself doth win,  
Along with him his Lord full courteously doth glide:  
So Rudock riseth here, and Cletor that do guide  
Him in his rugged path, and make his greatness way,  
Their Dee into the bounds of Denbigh to convey.  
The lofty Hills, this while attentively that stood,  
As to surveyed the course of every several Flood,  
Sent forth such echoing shouts (which every way so shrill,  
With the reverberate sound the spacious air did fill)  
That they were easily heard through the Vergivian Main  
To Neptune's inward Court; and beating there, constrain  
That mighty God of Sea t'awake: who full of dread,  
Thrice threw his three-forkt Mace about his griefly head,  
And thrice above the Rocks his forehead raised to see  
Amongst the high-topt Hills what tumult it should be.  
So that with very sweat Cadoridric did drop,  
And mighty Raran shook his proud sky-kissing top,  
Amongst the furious rout whom madness did enrage;  
Until the Mountain Nymphs, the tumult to assuage,  
Upon a modest sign of silence to the throng,  
Consorting thus, in praise of their Mervinia, song;  
Thrice famous Saxon King, on whom Time near shall pray,  
O Edgar! who compeldst our Ludwall hence to pay  
Three hundred Wolves a year for tribute unto thee:  
And for that tribute paid, as famous mayst thou be,  
O conquered British King, by whom was first destroyed  
§. The multitude of Wolves, that long this Land annoyed;  
Regardless of their rape, that now our harmless Flocks,  
Securely here may sit upon the aged Rocks;  
Or wandering from their walks, and straggling here and there  
Amongst the scattered Cleeves, the Lamb needs never fear;  
But from the threatening storm to save itself may creep  
Into that darksome Cave where once his foe did keep:  
That now the clambering Goat all day which having fed,  
And climbing up to see the sun go down to bed,  
Is not at all in doubt her little Kid to lose,  
Which grazing in the Vale, secure and safe she knows.  
Where, 
The wondrous Mountains in Merionethshire.  from these lofty hills which spacious heaven do threat,  
Yet of as equal height, as thick by nature set,  
We talk how we are stored, or what we greatly need,  
Or how our flocks do far, and how our herds do feed,  
When else the hanging Rocks, and Valleys dark and deep,  
The summers longest day would us from meeting keep.  
Ye Cambrian Shepherds then, whom these our Mountains please,  
And ye our fellow Nymphs, ye light 
* Nymphs of the Mountains.  Oreades,  
§. Saint Helen's wondrous way, and Herberts let us go,  
And our divided Rocks with admiration show.  
Not meaning there to end, but speaking as they were,  
A sudden fearful noise surprised every ear.  
The water-Nymphs (not far) Lin-Teged that frequent,  
With brows besmeared with ooze, their locks with dew besprent,  
Inhabiting the Lake, in sedgy bowers below,  
Their inward grounded grief that only sought to show  
Against the Mountain kind, which much on them did take  
Above their watery brood, thus proudly them bespoke;  
Tell us, ye haughty Hills, why vainly thus you threat,  
Esteeming us so mean, compared to you so great.  
To make you know yourselves, you this must understand,  
That our great Maker laid the surface of the Land,  
As level as the Lake until the general Flood,  
When over all so long the troubled waters stood:  
Which, hurried with the blasts from angry heaven that blew,  
Upon huge massy heaps the loosened gravel threw:  
From hence we would ye knew, your first beginning came.  
Which, since, in tract of time, yourselves did Mountains name.  
So that the earth, by you (to check her mirthful cheer)  
May always see (from heaven) those plagues that poured were  
Upon the former world; as 'twere by scars to show  
That still she must remain disfigured with the blow:  
And by th'infectious slime that doomefull Deluge left,  
Nature herself hath since of purity been reft;  
And by the seeds corrupt, the life of mortal man  
Was shortened. With these plagues ye Mountains first began.  
But, ceasing you to shame; What Mountain is there found  
In all your monstrous kind (seek ye the Island round)  
That truly of himself such wonders can report  
As can this spacious Lin, the place of our resort?  

The wonders of Lin-teged, or Pemble-mere  That when Dee in his course fain in her lap would lie,  
Commixtion with her store, his stream she doth deny,  
By his complexion proved, as he through her doth glide.  
Her wealth again from his, she likewise doth divide:  
Those White-fish that in her do wondrously abound,  
Are never seen in him; nor are his Salmon found  
At any time in her: but as she him disdains;  
So he again, from her, as wilfully abstains.  
down from the neighbouring Hills, those plenteous Springs that fall,  
Nor Land-floods after rain, her never move at all.  
And as in summers heat, so always is she one,  
Resembling that great Lake which seems to care for none:  
§. And with stern Aeolus blasts, like Thetis' waxing rank,  
She only over-swells the surface of her bank.  
But, whilst the Nymphs report these wonders of their Lake,  
Their further cause of speech the mighty 
a The most famous Mountain of all Wales, in Carnarvonshire.  Snowdon broke;  
Lest, if their watery kind should suffered be too long,  
The licence that they took, might do the Mountains wrong.  
For quickly he had found that straightened point of Land,  
Into the Irish Sea which puts his powerful hand,  
Puffed with their watery praise, grew insolently proud,  
And needs would have his Rills for Rivers be allowed:  
Short Dorent, nearest unto the utmost point of all  
That th'Ile of Gelin greets, and Bardsey in her fall;  
And next to her, the Saw, the Gir, the Er, the May,  
Must Rivers be at least, should all the world gainsay:  
And those, whereas the Land lies Eastward, amply wide,  
That goodly Conway grace upon the other side,  
Borne near upon her banks, each from her proper Lin,  
Soon from their Mothers out, soon with their Mistress in.  
As Leather, her Ally, and neighbour Legwy; then  
Goes Purloyd, Castle next, with Giffin, that again  
Observe fair Conway's course: and though their race be short,  
Yet they their Sovereign Flood enrich with their resort.  
And Snowdon, 
The wonders upon the Snowdon.  more than this, his proper Mere did note  
(§. Still Delos like, wherein a wandering Isle doth float)  
Was peremptory grown upon his higher ground;  
That Pool, 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 general kind; both parties to appease,  
He purposeth to sing their native Prince's praise.  
For Snowdony, 
The glory of Snowdon-hill.  a Hill, imperial in his seat,  
Is from his mighty foot, unto his head so great,  
That were his Wales distressed, or of his help had need,  
He all her Flocks and Herds for many months could feed.  
Therefore to do something were worthy of his name,  
Both tending to his strength, and to the Britan's fame,  
His Country to content, a signal having made,  
By this Oration thinks both Parties to persuade:  
Whilst here this general I'll, the ancient Britan's owed,  
Their valiant deeds before by Severn have been showed:  
But, since our furious Foe, these powerful Saxon swarms  
(As merciless in spoil, as well approved in Arms)  
here called to our aid, Loëgria us bereft,  
Those poor and scattered few of Brutus' high lineage left,  
For succour hither came; where that unmixed race  
Remains unto this day, yet owners of this place:  
Of whom no Flood nor Hill peculiarly hath song.  
These, then, shall be my Theme: lest Time too much should wrong  
Such Princes as were ours, since severed we have been;  
And as themselves, their fame be limited between  
The Severne and our Sea, long penned within this place,  
§. Till with the term of Welsh, the English now embase  
The nobler Britain's name, that well-near was destroyed  
With Pestilence and War, which this great I'll annoyed;  
Cadwallader that drove to the Armoric shore:  
To which, dread Conan, Lord of Denbigh, long before,  
His Countrymen from hence auspiciously conveyed:  
Whose noble feats in war, and never-failing ay'd,  
Got Maximus (at length) the victory in Gaul,  
Upon the Roman powers. Where, after Gratians fall,  
Armorica to them the valiant Victor gave:  
Where Conan, their great Lord, as full of courage, drove  
The Celts out of their seats, and did their room supply  
§. With people still from hence; which of our Colony  
Was little Britain called. Where that distressed King,  
Cadwallader, himself awhile recomforting  
With hope of Alans' aid (which there did him detain)  
§. Forewarned was in Dreams, that of the Britan's reign  
A sempiternal end the angry Powers decreed,  
A Recluse life in Rome enjoining him to lead.  
The King resigning all, his son young Edwall left  
With Alan: who, much grieved the Prince should be bereft  
Of Britain's ancient right, rigged his unconquered Fleet;  
And as the Generals then, for such an Army meet,  
His Nephew juor chose, and Hi●er for his fere;  
Two most undaunted spirits. These valiant Britan's were  
The first who 
a The Westsaxons country, comprehending Devonshire, Summersault, Wiltshire, and their adjacents.  West-sex won. But by the lingering war,  
When they those Saxons found t'have succour still from far,  
They took them to their friends on Severns setting shore:  
Where finding Edwall dead, they purposed to restore  
His son young Rodorick, whom the Saxon powers pursued:  
But he, who at his home here scorned to be subdued,  
With Aldred (that on Wales his strong invasion brought)  
Garthmalack, and Pencoyd (those famous battles) fought,  
That North and South-wales sing, on the West-Sexians won.  
Scarce this victorious task his bloodied sword had done,  
But at Mount 
b A hill near Aber-geuenny in Monmouth.  Carno met the Mercians, and with wounds  
Made Ethelbald to feel his trespass on our bounds;  
Prevailed against the Pict, before our force that flew;  
And in a valiant fight their King Dalargan slew.  
Nor Conan's courage less, nor less prevailed in aught  
Renowned Rodorick's heir, who with the English fought  
The Herefordian Field; as Ruthlands red with gore:  
Who, to transfer the war from this his native shore,  
Marched through the Mercian Towns with his revengeful blade;  
And on the English there such mighty havoc made.  
That Offa (when he saw his Countries go to wrack)  
From bick'ring with his folk, to keep us Britain's back,  

Offa's Ditch  Cast up that mighty Mound of eighty miles in length,  
Athwart from Sea to Sea. Which of the Mercians strength  
A witness though it stand, and Offa's name do bear,  
Our courage was the cause why first he cut it there:  
As that most dreadful day at Gavelford can tell,  
Where under either's sword so many thousands fell  
With intermixed blood, that neither knew their own;  
Nor which went Victor thence, unto this day is known.  
Nor Kettles conflict then, less martial courage showed,  
Where valiant Mervin met the Mercians, and bestowed  
His nobler British blood on Burthreds recreant flight.  
As Rodorick his great son, his father following right,  
Bore not the Saxons scorns, his Britan's to outbrave;  
At Gwythen, but again to Burthred battle gave;  
Twice driving out the Dane when he invasion brought.  
Whose no less valiant son, again at Conway fought  
With Danes and Mercians mixed, and on their hateful head  
Down-showred their dire revenge whom they had murdered.  
And, were't not that of us the English would report  
(Abusing of our Tongue in most malicious sort  
As oftentimes they do) that more than any, we  
(The Welsh, as they us term) love glorified to be,  
here could I else recount the slaughtered Saxons gore  
Our swords at Crosford spilled on Severns wandering shore;  
And Griffith here produce, Lewellins valiant son  
(May we believe our Bards) who five pitched Battles won;  
And to revenge the wrongs the envious English wrought,  
His vvell-trained martial troops into the Marches brought  
As far as Wor'ster walls: nor thence did he retire,  
Till Powse lay well-near spent in our revengeful fire;  
As Hereford laid waste: and from their plenteous soils,  
Brought back with him to Wales his prisoners and his spoils.  
Thus as we valiant were, when valour might us steed:  
With those so much that dared, we had them that decreed.  
For, what Mulmutian laws, or Martian, ever were  
§. More excellent than those which our good Howell here  
Ordained to govern Wales? which still with us remain.  
And when all-powerful Fate had brought to pass again,  
That as the Saxons erst did from the Britain's win;  
Upon them so (at last) the Normans coming in,  
took from those Tyrants here, what treacherously they got  
(To the perfidious French, which th'angry heavens allot)  
Near could that Conqueror's sword (which roughly did decide  
His right in England here, and prostrated her pride)  
§. Us to subjection stoop, or make us Britain's bear  
Th'unwieldy Norman yoke: nor basely could we fear  
His Conquest, entering Wales; but (with stout courage) ours  
Defied him to his face, with all his English powers.  
And when in his revenge, proud Rufus hither came  
(With vows) us to subvert; with slaughter and with shame,  
O'er Severn him we sent, to gather stronger aid.  
So, when to England's power, Albania hers had laid,  
By Henry Beauclarke brought (for all his devilish wit,  
By which he reached the Wreath) he not prevailed a whit:  
And through our rugged straits when he so rudely priest,  
Had not his proved Mail ●ate surely to his breast,  
A skilful British hand his life had him bereft,  
As his stern brother's heart, by Tirrills hand was cleft.  
And let the English thus which vilify our name,  
If it their greatness please, report unto our shame  
The foil our Gwyneth gave at Flints so deadly fight,  
To Maud the empress son, that there he put to flight;  
§. And from the English power th'imperial Ensign took:  
About his plumed head which valiant Owen shook.  
As when that King again, his fortune to advance  
Above his former foil, procured fresh powers from France,  
A surely-leveld shaft if Sent-cleare had not seen,  
And in the very loose, not thrust himself between  
His Sovereign and the shaft, he our revenge had tried:  
Thus, to preserve the King, the noble subject died.  
As Madock his brave son, may come the rest among;  
Who, like the Godlike race from which his Grandsires sprung,  
Whilst here his Brothers tired in sad domestic strife,  
On their unnatural breasts bend either's murderous knife;  
This brave adventurous Youth, in hot pursuit of fame,  
With such as his great spirit did with high deeds inflame,  
Put forth his well-rigged Fleet to seek him foreign ground,  
And sailed West so long, until that world he found  
To Christians then unknown (save this adventurous crew)  
Long ere Columbus lived, or it Vesputius knew;  
And put the now-named Welsh on India's parched face,  
Unto the endless praise of Brutus' renowned race,  
E'er the Iberian Powers had touched her long-sought Bay,  
§. Or any ear had heard the sound of Florida.  
§. And with that Croggens name let th' English us disgrace;  
When there are to be seen, yet, in that ancient place  
From whence that name they fetch, their conquered Grandsire's Graves:  
For which each ignorant sot, unjustly us depraves.  
And when that Tyrant john had our subversion vowed,  
§. To his unbridled will our necks we never bowed:  
Nor to his mighty son; whose host we did enforce  
(His succours cutting off) to eat their warlike horse.  
Until all-ruling Heaven would have us to resign:  
When that brave Prince, the last of all the British Line,  
Lewellin, Griffiths son, unluckily was slain,  
§. As Fate had spared our fall till Edward Longshanks reign.  
Yet to the stock of Brute so true we ever were,  
We would permit no Prince, unless a native here.  
Which, that most prudent King perceiving, wisely thought  
To satisfy our wills, and to Carnarvan brought  
His Queen being great with child, even ready down to lie;  
Then to his purposed end doth all his powers apply.  
Through every part of Wales he to the Nobles sent,  
That they unto his Court should come incontinent,  
Of things that much concerned the Country to debate:  
But now behold the power of unavoided Fate.  
When thus unto his will he fitly them had won,  
At her expected hour the Queen brought forth a son.  
And to this great design, all happening as he would,  
He (his intended course that clerkly manage could)  
Thus quaintly trains us on: Since he perceived us prone  
Here only to be ruled by Princes of our own,  
Our naturalness therein he greatly did approve; 
A King both valiant and politic.   
And publicly protests, that for the ancient love  
He ever bare to Wales, they all should plainly see,  
That he had found out one, their sovereign Lord to be;  
come of the race of Kings, and (in their Country borne)  
Could not one English word: of which he durst be sworn.  
Besides, his upright heart, and innocence was such,  
As that (he was assured) black Envy could not ●uch  
His spotless life in aught. Poor we (that not espy  
His subtlety herein) in plain simplicity,  
Soon bound ourselves by oath, his choice not to refuse:  
When as that crafty King, his little child doth choose,  
Young Edward, borne in Wales, and of Carnarvan called.  
Thus by the English craft, we Britan's were enthralled:  
Yet in thine own behalf, dear Country dare to say,  
Thou long as powerful wert as England every way.  
And if she overmuch should seek thee to embase,  
Tell her thou art the Nurse of all the British race;  
And he that was by heaven appointed to unite  
(After that tedious war) the red Rose and the white,  
A Tudor was of thine, and native of thy Mon,  
From whom descends that King now sitting on her Throne.  
This speech, by Snowdon made, so lucky was to please  
Both parties, and them both with such content t'appease;  
That as before they strove for sovereignty and place,  
They only now contend, which most should other grace.  
Into the Irish Sea, than all those Rilles that run,  
In snowdon's praise to speak, immediately begun;  
Lewenny, Lynan next, then Gwelly gave it out,  
And Kerriog her compear, soon told it all about:  
So did their sister Nymphs, that into Mena strain;  
The flood that doth divide Mon from the Cambrian Main.  
It Gorway greatly praised, and saint it loudly song.  
So, mighty snowdon's speech was through Carnarvan rung;  
That scarcely such a noise to Mon from Mena came,  
When with his puissant troops for conquest of the same,  
On Bridges made of Boats, the Roman powers her sought,  
Or Edward to her sack his English Armies brought:  
That Mona strangely stirred great snowdon's praise to hear,  
Although the stock of Troy to her was ever dear;  
Yet (from her proper worth) as she before all other  
§ Was called (in former times) her Country Cambria's mother,  
Persuaded was thereby her praises to pursue,  
Or by neglect, to lose what to herself was due,  
A sign to Neptune sent, his boisterous rage to slake;  
Which suddenly becalmed, thus of herself she spoke;  
What one of all the Isles to Cambria doth belong  
(To Britain, I might say, and yet not do her wrong)  
Doth equal me in soil, so good for grass and grain?  
As should my Wales (where still Brutus' offspring doth remain)  
That mighty store of men, yet more of beasts doth breed,  
By famine of by war constrained be to need,  
And England's neighbouring Shires their succour would deny;  
My only self her wants could plenteously supply.  
What Island is there sound upon the Irish coast,  
In which that Kingdom seems to be delighted most  
(And seek you all along the rough Vergivian shore,  
Where the encountering tides outrageously do roar)  
That bows not at my beck, as they to me did own  
The duty subjects should unto their Sovereign show;  
§ So that th' Eubonian Man, a kingdom long time known,  
Which wisely hath been ruled by Princes of her own,  
In my alliance joys, as in th' Albanian Seas  
The 
a Isles upon the West of Scotland.  Arrans, and by them the scattered 
a Isles upon the West of Scotland.  Eubides  
Rejoice even at my name; and put on mirthful cheer,  
When of my good estate, they by the Sea-Nymphs hear.  
Sometimes within my shades, in many an ancient wood,  
Whose often-twined tops, great Phoebus fires withstood,  
§. The fearless British Priests, under an aged Oak,  
Taking a milk-white Bull, unstrained with the yoke,  
And with an Axe of gold, from that jove-sacred tree  
The Missleto cut down; then with a bended knee  
On th'unhewed Altar laid, put to the hallowed fires:  
And whilst in the sharp flame the trembling flesh expires,  
As their strong fury moved (when all the rest adore)  
Pronouncing their desires the sacrifice before,  
up to th'eternal heaven their bloodied hands did rear:  
And, whilst the murmuring woods even shuddred as with fear,  
Preached to the beardless youth, the souls immortal state;  
To other bodies still how it should transmigrate,  
That to contempt of death them strongly might excite.  
To dwell in my black shades the Wood-gods did delight,  
Untrodden with resort that long so gloomy were,  
As when the Roman came, it struck him sad with fear  
To look upon my face, which then was called the Dark;  
Until in after time, the English for a mark  
Gave me this hateful name, which I must ever bear,  
And Anglesey from them am called every where.  
My Brooks (to whose sweet brims the Syluans did resort,  
In gliding through my shades, to mighty Neptune's Court,  
Of their huge Oaks bereft) to heaven so open lie,  
That now there's not a root discerned by any eye:  
My Brent, a pretty Beck, attending Menas mouth,  
With those her sister Rills, that bear upon the South,  
Guint, forth along with her Lewenny that doth draw;  
And next to them again, the fat and moory Frawe,  
§ Which with my Prince's Court I sometime pleased to grace,  
As those that to the West directly run their race.  
Smooth Allo in her fall, that Lynon in doth take;  
Mathanon, that amain doth towards 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 Isle that breedeth Mice: whose store so loathsome be,  
That she in Neptune's brack her bluish head doth hide.  
When now the wearied Muse her burden having plied,  
Herself a while betakes to bathe her in the Sound;  
And quitting in her course the goodly Monian ground,  
Assays the Penmenmaur, and her clear eyes doth throw  
On Conway, towards the East, to England back to go:  
Where finding Denbigh fair, and Flint not out of sight,  
Cries yet afresh for Wales, and for Brutus' ancient right.  

Illustrations.  
MOre Western are you carried into Merioneth, Carnarvan, Anglesey, & those maritime coasts of North-wales.  
The last her genuine laws which stoutly did retain.  
Under William Rufus, the Norman-English (animated by the good success which Robert Fitz-hamon had first against Rees ap Tiddour, Prince of South-Wales, and afterward against jestin, Lord of Glamorgan) being very desirous of these Welsh territories; Hugh, 
a Povel. ad Carad●c. Lhancaru. & Camd.  surnamed Wolf, Earl of Chester, did homage to the King for Tegengl and Ryvonioc, with all the Land by the Sea unto Conwey. And thus pretending title, got also possession of Merioneth, from Gruffith ap Conan, Prince of North-wales: but he soon recovered it, and thence left it continued in his posterity, until Lhewelym ap Gruffith, under Edward 1. lost it, himself, and all his dominion. Whereas other parts (of South and Westwales especially) had before subjecteth themselves to the English Crown; this, through frequency of craggy Mountains, accessible with too much difficulty; being the last strong refuge until that period of fatal conquest.  
Of those two noble arms into the land that bear.  
In the confines of Merioneth and Cardigan, where these Rivers jointly pour themselves into the Irish Ocean, are these two arms or creeks of the Sea, famous, as he saith, through Guinethia (that is one of the old titles of this North-Wales) by their names of Traeth Mawr and Traeth Bachan i. as it were, the great haven, and the little haven; Traeth 
a Girald. Itenerar. 2. cap. 6. , in British, signifying a tract of Sand whereon the Sea flows, and the ebb discovers.  
Into that spacious Lake where Dee unmixed doth flow.  
That is Lhin-tegid (otherwise called by the English Pemelsmere) through which, Dee rising in this part runs whole and unmixed, neither Lake nor River communicating to each other water or fish; as the Author anon tells you. In the 
b Ammian. Marcel. hist. 15. Pomp. Mel. lib. 2. Plin. hist. Nat. ●. cap. 103.  ancients, is remembered specially the like of Rhosne running unmixed, and (as it were) over the Lake of Geneva; as, for a greater wonder, the most learned Casaubon 
c Ad Strabon. lib. ●.  hath delivered also of Arua, running whole through Rhosne; and divers other such like are in Plini's collection of Nature's most strange effects in waters.  
The multitude of Wolves that long this land annoyed.  
Our excellent Edgar (having first enlarged his name with diligent and religious performance of charitable magnificence among his English, and confirmed the farre-spred opinion of his greatness, by receipt of homage at Chester from VIII. Kings; as you shall see in and to the next Song) for increase of his benefits towards the Isle, joined with preservation of his crown-duties, converted the tribute of the Welsh into CCC. Wolves a year, as the Author shows; The King that paid it; 
Three year he huld is term rend ac the vershe was behind  
Uor he send the King word that he ne might ne more vinde,  As, according to the story my old Rhymer delivers it. Whom you are to accounted for this Ludwall K. of Wales in the Welsh history, except Howel ap Ieuaf, that made war against his uncle jago, delivered his father, and took on himself the whole Principality towards the later years of Edgar, I know not. But this was not an utter destruction of them; for, since that 
d I●in. Leicest. 27. Hen. 3. in Archiu. Turr. Londin.  time, the Manor of Piddlesley in Leicester shire was held by one Henry of Angage, per serieantiam capiendi lupos, as the inquisition delivers it.  
S. Helen's wondrous way—  
By Festeneog in the confines of Caernaruan and Merioneth is this high way of note; so called by the British, and supposed made by that Helen, mother to Constantine (among her other good deeds) of whom to the last Song before.  
As level as the lake until the general flood.  
So is the opinion of some Divines 
e His post alios refragatur B. Pe●erius ad Genes. 1. quaest. 101. , that, until after the flood, were no Mountains, but that by congestion of sand, earth, and such stuff as we now see hills strangely fraughted with, in the waters they were first cast up. But in that true Secretary of Divinity and nature, Selomoh 
a Proverb. 8.  speaking as in the person of Wisdom, you read; Before the Mountains were founded, and before the hills I was form, that is, before the world's beginning; and in holy 
b Psalm. 104.  Writ elsewhere, the Mountains ascend, and the Valleys descend to the place where thou didst found them; good authorities to justify Mountains before the Flood. The same question hath been of Isles, but I will peremptorily determine neither.  
And with stern Aeolus blasts, like Thetis' waxing rank.  
The south-west wind constrained between two hills on both sides of the Lake, sometimes so violently fills the River out of the Lakes store, that both have been affirmed (but somewhat against truth) never to be disturbed, or overflow, but upon tempestuous blasts, whereas indeed (as Powel delivers) they are overfilled with rain and land-floods, as well as other Waters; but most of all moved by that impetuous wind.  
Still Delos like wherein a wandering Isle doth float.  
Of this Isle in the water on top of Snowdon, and of One-eide Eels, Trout, and Perches, in another Lake there, Girald is witness. Let him perform his word; I will not be his surety for it. The Author alludes to that state of Delos, which is feigned 
c Pindar. ap. Strabon. lib. 10.  before it was with pillars fastened in the Sea for Latona's childbirth.  
That with the term of Welsh the English now embase.  
For this name of Welsh is unknown to the British themselves, and imposed on them, as an ancient and common opinion is, by the Saxons, calling them Walsh i. strangers. Others fabulously have talk of Wallo and Wandolena, whence it should be derived. But you shall come nearer truth, if upon the community of name customs, and original, twixt the Gauls and Britons, you conjecture them called Walsh, as it were, Gualsh (the W. oftentimes being in steed of the Gu.) which expresses them to be Gauls rather than strangers; although in the Saxon (which is 
d Buchanan. Scotic. Hist. 2.  observed) it was used for the name of Gauls, Strangers, and Barbarous perhaps in such kind as in this Kingdom the name of 
e Bract. lib. 3. tract. 2. cap. 15. Leg. G. Conquest. & D Coke in Cas. Calvin.  Frenchman, hath by inclusion comprehended all kind of Aliens.  
Was little Britain called—  
See a touch of this in the passage of the Virgins to the VIII. Song. Others affirm, that under 
f Ma●mesb de gest. reg. 1.  Constantine, of our Britons Colonies were there placed; and from some of these the name of that now Dukedom, to have had its beginning. There be 
g Paul Merul. Cosmog. part. 2. lib. 3. cap. 31.  also that will justify the British name to have been in that tract long before, and for proof cite Dionysius 
h V. Eustath. ad eundem.  Afer, and 
i Hist. Nat. lib. 4. cap. 17 quem super Ligerim Britanoes hos Sit●● dixisse, miròr P. Merulam tam constantèr affirmâsse.  Pliny; But for the first, it is not likely that he ever meant that Continent, but this of Ours, as the learned tell you; and for Pliny, seeing he reckons his Britons of Gaul in the confines of the now France, & lower Germany, it is as unlikely that twixt them and little Bretaigne should be any such habitude. You want not authority, affirming that Our Britons from them 
k Bed. lib. 1. cap. 3. quem secutus P. Merula. , before they from ours, had deduction of this national title; but my belief admits it not. The surer opinion is to refer the name unto those Britons, which (being expelled the Island at the entry of the Saxons) got then new habitation in this maritime part, as beside other authority an express assertion is in an old Fragment of a French history 
a E● Ms. Coenoh. Floriac. edit. per P. Pit●aeum. , which you may join with most worthy Camden's treatise on this matter; whither (for a learned declaration of it) I send you.  
Forewarned was in dreams that of the Britons reign.  
Cadwallader driven to forsake this land, especially by reason of plague & famine, tyrannising among his subjects, joined with continual eruptions of the English, retired himself into little Bretaigne, to his cousin Alan there King: where, in a dream he was admonished by an Angel (I justify it but by the story) that a period of the British Empire was now come, and until time of Merlin's prophecy, given to King Arthur, his country or posterity should have no restitution; & further, that he should take his journey to Rome, where, for a transitory he might receive an eternal Kingdom. Alan, upon report of this vision, compares it with the Eagles prophecies, the Sibylles verses, & Merlin; 
See to the II. Song.  nor found he but all were concording in prediction of this ceasing of the British Monarchy. Through his advice therefore, and a prepared affection, Cadwallader takes voyage to Rome, received of PP. Sergius, with holy tincture, the name of Peter, and within very short time there died; his body very lately under Pope Gregory the XIII. was found 
k Anton. Maior. ap. Basingstoch. lib. 9 not. 32.  buried by S. Peter's Tomb, where it yet remains; and White of Basingstoch says, he had a piece of his raiment of a Chestnut colour, taken up (with the corpse) uncorrupted; which he accounts, as a Romish Pupil, no slight miracle. It was added among British traditions, that, when Cadwallader's bones 
l Ranulph. Higden. lib. 5. cap. ●0.  were brought into this Isle, then should the posterity of their Princes have restitution: concerning that, you have enough to the II. Song. Observing concurrence of time and difference of relation in the story of this Prince, I know not well how to give myself or the Reader satisfaction. In Monmouth, Robert of Gloucester, florilegus, and their followers, Cadwallader is made the son of Cadwallo K. of the Britons before him, but so, that he descended also from English-Saxon blood; his mother being daughter to Penda K. of Mercland. Our Monks call him K. of Westsaxons, successor to Kentwine, and son to Kenbrith. And where Caradoc Lhancaruan tells you of wars twixt Ine or juor (successor to Cadwallader) and Kentwine, it appears in our Chronographers that Kentwine must be dead above three years before. But howsoever these things might be reconcileable, 
Cadwalla Rex Britonum Bed. Hist. Eccles 3. cap. 1. caeterum v. Nennium ap. Camd. in Ottadinis pag. 664. & 665. & Bed. lib. 5. cap. 7.  I think clearly that Cadwallader in the British, and Cedwalla K. of Westsaxons in Bede, Malmesbury, Florence, Huntingdon, and other stories of the English, are not the same, as Geffrey, and, out of Girald, Randall of Chester, and others since erroneously have affirmed. But strongly you may hold, that Cadwallo or Caswallo, living about DC.XL slain by Oswald K. of Northumberland, was the same with Bedes first Cedwalla, whom he calls K. of Britons, and that by misconceit of his two Cedwals (the other being, almost L. years after, K. of Westsaxons) and by communicating of each others attributes upon indistinct names, without observation of their several times, these discordant relations of them, which in story are too palpable, had their first being. But to satisfy you in present, I keep myself 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 Christian before, and received of Sergius only confirmation; others, that he had there his first Baptism, and lived not above a month after; which time (to make all dissonant) is extended to VIII. years in Lhancaruan. That, one K. Cedwall went to Rome, is plain by all, with his now imposed name and burial there: For his baptism before, I have no direct authority but in Polychronicon; many arguments proving him indeed a well-willer to Christianity, but as one that had not yet received its holy testimony. The very phrase in most of our Historians is plain that he was baptised; and so also his Epitaph then made at Rome, in part here inserted. 

a 
Bed eccles. hist. lib. 5. cap. 7 englished in substance, if you say, He was baptised, and soon died.  
A. CHR. DC.LXXX.VIII. judicious conjecture cannot but attribute all this to the Westsaxon Cedwall, and not the British.  
See to the XI. Song.   Percipiénsque alacer redivinae praemia vitae,  
Barbaricam rabiem, nomen & inde suum,  
conversus convertit ovans, Petrúmque vocari,  
Sergius antistes, Iussi● ut ipse pater  
font r●nascontis; quem Christi gratia purgans  
Pretinùs ablatum vexit in arce Poli.  This shows also his short life afterward, and agrees fully with the English story. His honourable affection to Religion, before his cleansing mark of regeneration, is seen in that kind respect given by him to Wilfrid first Bishop of Selesey in Sussex; where the Episcopal See of Chichester (hither was it translated from Selesey, under William the Conqueror) acknowledges in public monuments, rather him founder then Edilwalch the first Christian King of that Province, from whom Cedwalla violently took both life and Kingdom: nor doth it less appear, in that his paying T●nths of such spoils, as by wars fortune, accrued to his greatness; which notwithstanding, although done by one than not received into the Church of either Testament, is not without many examples among the ancient Gentiles, who therein imitating the Hebrews, Tithed much of their possessions, and acquired substance to such Deities as unhallowed religion taught them to adore; which▪ whether they did upon Mystery in the Number, or, therein as paying first fruits (for the word 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 which was for Abel's offerings, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for Melchisedeches tithes, according to that loss 
* Ratio Cabalistica Minor secundum quam è Centenario quolibet & Denario unitatem acci●iunt, reliquos numeros in utroque vocabulo retinentes uti Archangel. Burgonovens in Dog. Cabalisticis.  calculation in cabbalistic Concordance of identity's in different words, are of equal number, and by consequent of like interpretation) I leave to my Reader. Speaking of this, I cannot but wonder at that very wonder of learning 
b Ad Festum. verb. Dec●ma.  joseph Scaliger, affirming, tithes among those Ancients only payable to Hercules: whereas by express witness of an 
c Clemens Alexand. Strom ● & Steph. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 tantundem: praeter alios quam plurimos.  old inscription at Delphos, and the common report of Camillus, it is justified, that both greeks and Romans did the like to Apollo, and no less, among them and others together, was to Mars 
d Lucian 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. & Varro ap. Macrob. 3. cap. 1. , jupiter 
e Herodot. a. , juno 
f Samij apud Herodot. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. , and the number of Gods in general, to whom the Athenians dedicated the Tenth parts of Lesbos. He which the Author, after the British, calls here juor, is affirmed the same with Ine K. of Westsex in our Monkish Chronicles▪ although there be scarce any congruity twixt them in his descent. What follows is but historical and continued succession of their Princes.  
More excellent than those which our good Howel here.  
For, Howel Dha first Prince of South-Wales and Powis, after upon death of his cousin Edward Voel, of North-wales also, by mature advise in a full Council of Barons and Bishops, 
g Thucydid hist 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  made divers universal constitutions. By these, Wales (until Edward I.) was ruled. So some say; but the truth is, that before Ed. I conquered Wales, and, as it seems, from XXVIII. but especially XXXV. of Hen. III. his Empire enlarged among them, the English Kings Writ did run there. For when Ed. I. sent Commission to 
h Rot. Claus. de ann. 9 Ed. 1 an Archin. Turr. Londin.  Reginald of Grey, Thomas Bishop of S. Dewies, and Walter of Hopton, to inquire of their customs, and by what jaws they were ruled, divers Cases were upon oath returned, which by, and according to, the King's law, if it were between Lords or the Princes themselves, had been determined; if between Tenants, then by the Lords seizing it into his hands, until discovery of the title in his Court; but also that none were decided by the laws of Howel Dha. Of them, in Lhuyd's annotations to the Welsh Chronicle, you have some particulars, and in the Roll which hath aided me. Touching those other of Molmutius and Martia, somewhat to the IX. Song.  
Us to subjection stoup, or makes us Britons bear  
Th'unwieldy Norman yoke—  
Snowdon properly speaks all for the glory of his country, and follows suppositions of the British story, discording herein with ours. For in Matthew Paris, and Florilegus under the year M.LXXVIII. I read that the Conqueror subdued Wales, and took homage and hostages of the Princes; so of Hen. I M.C.XIII. Hen. II. in M.C.LVII. and other times; Of this Hen. II. hath been understood that prophecy of Merlin, When the freckle faced Prince (so was the King) passes over, 
* The Ford at the Rocks head.  Rhyd Pencarn, then should the Welsh forces be weakened. For he in this expedition against Rees ap Gryffith into South-Wales, coming mounted near that Ford in Glamorgan, his Steed madded with sudden sound of Trumpets, on the bank violently, out of the purposed way, carries him through the Ford: which compared with that of Merlin gave to the British army no small discomfiture; as a 
i Girald. Itin●rar. 1. cap. 6.  Cambro-Briton, then living, hath delivered. But, that their stories and ours are so different in these things, it can be no marvel to any that knows how often it is used among 
k De quo si placet, videas compend●o●● apud Alberic. Gentil. de Arm. Rom. 1. cap. 1.  Historians, to flatter their own nation, and wrong the honour of their enemies. See the first note here for Rufus his time.  
And from the English Power the Imperial Standard took.  
Henry of Essex, at this time Standard bearer to Hen. II. in a strait at Counsylth near Flint, cast down the Standard, thereby animating the Welsh, and discomfiting the English, adding much danger to the dishonour. He was afterward accused by Robert of Montfort, of a traitorous design in the action. To clear himself, he challenges the combat: they both, with the royal assent and judicial course by law of arms, enter the lists; where Montfort had the victory, and Essex pardoned for his life; but forfeiting 
l Guil. de Novo Burgo lib. 2. cap. 5.  all his substance, entered Religion, and professed in the Abbey of Reding, where the combat was performed. I remember a great 
m joann. Sarisburiens. Ep. 159.  Clerk of those times says, that Montfort spent a whole night of devotions to S. Denis (so I understand him, although his copy seem corrupted) which could make Champions invincible; whereto he refers the success. That it was usual for Combatants to pray over night to several Saints, is plain by 
n 30. Ed. 3. ●ol. 20.  our Law-annals.  
Or any ear had heard the sound of Florida.  
About the year M.C.LXX Madoc, brother to David ap Owen, Prince of Wales, made this Sea voyage; and, by probability, those names of Capo de Breton in Norumbeg, and Pengwin in part of the Northern America, for a white Rock and a white headed Bird, according to the British, were relics of this discovery. So that the Welsh may challenge priority, of finding that new world, before the Spaniard, Genua, and all other mentioned in Lopez, Marinaeus, Cortes, and the rest of that kind.  
And with that Croggins name let th' English us disgrace.  
The first cause of this name, take thus: In one of Henry the II. his expeditions into Wales, divers of his Camp sent to assay a passage over Offa's-Dike, at Crogen Castle were entertained with prevention by British forces, most of them there slain, and, to present view, yet lying buried. Afterward, this 
a Gutyn Owen in Lhewelin ap jorwerth.  word Crogen, the English used to the Welsh, but as remembering cause of revenge for such a slaughter, although time hath made it usual in ignorant mouths for a disgraceful attribute.  
To his unbridled will our necks we never bowed.  
Sufficiently justifiable is this of K. john, although our Monks therein not much discording from British relation, deliver, that he subdued all Wales; especially this Northern 
* Note that North-wales was the chief Principality, and to it South-wales and Powis paid a tribute, as out of the laws of Howel Dha is noted by Doctor Powel.  part unto Snowdon, and received XX. hostages for surety of future obedience. For, at first, Lhewelin ap jorwerth P. of North-Wales, had by force joined with stratagem the better hand, and compelled the English Camp to victual themselves with Horseflesh; but afterward indeed upon a second road made into Wales, K. john had the conquest. This compared with those changes ensuing upon the Pope's wrongful uncrowning him, his Baron's rebellion, and advantages in the mean time taken by the Welsh, proves only that, his win here were little better than imaginary, as on a Tragic Stage. The stories may, but it fits not me to inform you of large particulars.  
As Fate had spared our fall till Edward Longshanks reign.  
But withal observe the truth of Story in the mean time. Of all our Kings until john, somewhat you have already. After him, Hen. III. had wars with Lhewelin ap jorwerth; who (a most worthy Prince) desiring to bless his feebler days, with such composed quiet, as inclining age affects, at last put himself into the King's protection. Within short space dying, left all to his sons, David and Gruffyth; but David only being legitimat, had title of government. He by Charter 
b Charta Davidis 25. Hen. 3. Seven, wife to Gryffith then imprisoned, was with others a pledge for her husband's part.  submits himself and his Principality to the English Crown acknowledges that he would stand to the judgement of the King's Court, in controversies twixt his brother and himself, and that what portions soever were so allotted to either of them, they would hold of the Crown in Chief; and briefly makes himself and his Barons (they joining in doing homage) Tenants, and subjects of England. All this was confirmed by oath, but the oath, through favour, purchased at Rome, and delegat authority in that kind to the Abbots of Cowey and Remer, was (according to persuasion of those times, the more easily induced, because gain of Regal liberty was the consequent) soon released, 
c In Archiu. Scaccar. & Polydore. hist. Angl. 16.  and in am of obedience, they all drew their rebellious swords; whereto they were the sooner urged, for that the King had transferred the Principality of Wales (by name of unà cum Conquestu nostro Walliae) to Pr. Edward Longshanks (afterward Edward I.) since when our Sovereign's eldest sons have borne that hopeful Title. But when this Edward, after his father, succeeded in the English Crown, soon came that fatal conversion, here spoken of by the Author, even executed in as great and worthy a Prince, as ever that third part of the Isle was ruled by; that is Lhewelin ap Gruffyth, who (after uncertain fortune of war, 
M. CC.LXX.VII.  on both sides, and revolting of South-Wales) was constrained to enter a truce (or rather subjection) resigning his Principality to be annexed wholly to the Crown, after his death, and reserving, for his life only, the Isle of Anglesey and five Baronies in Snowdon, for which the King's Exchequer should receive a yearly rent of M. Marks, granting also that all the Baronies in Wales should be held of the King, excepting those five reserved, with divers other particulars in Walsingham, Matthew of Westminster, Nicholas Trivet, and Humphrey Lhuyd, at large reported. The Articles, of this instrument were not long observed, but at length the death of Lhewelin, spending his last breath for maintenance of his Ancestors rights against his own covenant, freely cast upon K. Edward all that, whereof he was, as it were, instituted there. What ensued, and how Wales was governed afterward, and subject to England, Stories and the Statute of 
a XII. Ed. I  Ruthlan will largely show you; and see what I have to the VII. Song. In all that follows concerning Edward of Carnarvan, the Author is plain enough. And concluding, observe this proper personating of Snowdon Hill, whose limits and adjacent territories are best witnesses, both of the English assaults, and pacifying covenants between both Princes.  
Was called in former times her country Cambria's mother.  
In the Welsh Proverb 
* M●n●he ●he mothe● of Wales.  Mon mam Cymbry 
b Girald. Itinerar. 2. cap. 7. & 9 ; in such sense as Sicily was styled Italy's 
c Strabo. lib. ●.  Storehouse, by reason of fertile ground, and plenteous liberality of corn thence yearly supplied. And Girald tells me, that this little Isle was wont to be able to furnish all Wales with such provision, as S●●wdon Hills were for Pasture. Of its antiquities and particulars, with plain confutation of that idle opinion in Polydore, Hector Boethius, and others, taking the (now called) Isle of Man for this Mon (now Anglesey) learned Lhuyd in his Epistle to Ortelius hath sufficient. Although it be divided as an Isle (but rather by a shallow Ford, than a Sea: and in the Roman times, we see by Tacitus, that Paulinus and Agricola's soldiers swam over it) yet is it, and of ancient time hath been, a County by itself, as Caernaruan, Denbigh, and the rest neighbouring.  
That the Eubonian Man, a Kingdom long time known.  
It is an Isle lying twixt Cumberland, and the Irish Down County, almost in the mid-Sea, as long since julius Caesar could affirm, calling it 
d Commentar. 5.  Mona, which being equivalent, as well for this, as for Anglesey, hath with imposture blinded some knowing men. Nennius (the eldest Historian amongst us extant) gives it the name of Eubonia-manay, like that here used by the Author. It was of ancient time governed by Kings of its own, as you may see in the Chronicle of Russin, deduced from time of S. Edward, into the reign of Edward the second. After this, the government of the English and Scots were now and then interchanged in it, being at last recovered, and with continuance, ruled by such as the favour of our Sovereigns (to whose Crown 
Walsingh. in Ed. II.  it belonged) honoured with that title King of Man. It is at this day, and since time of Henry four hath 
f Camden. in Insulu.  been, in that Noble family of the Stanley's Earls of Derby; as also is the patronage of the bishopric of Sodor, whereto is all judicial government of the Isle referred. There was long since a Controversy, whether it belonged to Ireland or England (for you may see in the Civil 
g Vlpian●ff de judicijs. l. 9 & verb. sig. l. 99  law, with which, in that kind, ours somewhat agrees, that all lesser Isles are reckoned part of some adjoining continent, if both under the same Empire) and this by reason of the equal distance from both. To decide it, they tried if it would endure venomous beasts, which is certainly denied of Ireland; and, finding that it did, 
h Topograph. Hib●rn. dist. 2. cap. 15.  adjudged it to our Britain. The other Isles here spoken of, lie further North by Scotland, and are to it subject.  
The fearless British Priests under an aged Oak.  
He means the Druids; because they are indeed, as he calls them, British Priests, & that this Island was of old their Mother: whence, as from a Seminary, Gaul was furnished with their learning. Permit me some space more largely to satisfy you in their NAME, PROFESSION, SACRIFICE, PLACES of Assembling, and lastly, SUBVERSION. The name of Druids hath been drawn from 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. i. an Oak, because of their continual 
a Plin. hist. not 16. cap. 44.  using that Tree as superstitiously hallowed: according as they are called also 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 
b Diodor. Sicul. de Antiquorum gestis ●ab. ●.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, which likewise, in Greek, is Old Oaks. To this compare the British word Derw of the same signification, and, the Original here sought for, will seem surely found. But one, 
c Goropius Gallic. 5.  that derives all from Dutch, and prodigiously supposes that the first tongue spoken, makes them so styled from Trow wis .1. truly wise, so expressing their nature in their name. Nor is this without good reason of conjecture (if the ground were true) seeing that their like in proportion among ●he Jews and Gentiles were called (until Pythagoras his time) Wisemen 
* 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ●. dixerunt Sapientes Capnio de Art. Cabalistic. l. 3. quod Hebraeu in usu ut 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Pythagoraen, nec Drui●um Discipulis refragart sententijs Magistrorū●as erat. , and afterward by him turned into the name of Philosophers. i. Lovers of wisdom; and perhaps the old Dutch was, as some learned think, communicated to Gaul, and from thence hither; the conjecture being somewhat aided in that attribute which they have in Pomponius 
d Geograph. 3. cap. 2. , calling them Masters of wisdom. A late great 
e Paul. Merula Cosmog. part. 2. lib. 3. cap. 11.  Scholar draws it from Trutin, in an old Dutch copy of the Gospel, signifying, as he says, God; which might be given them by Hyperbole of superstitious reverence: nay, we see that it is justifiable by holy Writ, so to call great Magistrates and judges; as they were among the people. But that word Trutin or Truchtin in the old Angelical salutation, Zacharies Song, and Simeons, published by Vulcan, is always Lord; as this Giwihit si truchtin got Israelo i. Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, and so in the Saxon ten Commandments, 
f 
Praefat. ad Leg. Aluredi Saxonic.  
Berosus (ille Annianus subdititius) Chaldaic. Antiquitat. 5.   〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in God i. I am the Lord thy God. These are the etymologies which savour of any judgement. To speak of King Druis or Sarron, which that 
f 
Praesat. ad Leg. Aluredi Saxoni●.  
Berosus (ille Annianus subdititius) Chaldaic. Antiquitat. 5.   Dominican Friar hath cozened vulgar credulity withal, 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 Greek and British; and somewhat the rather too, because Antiquity did crown their infernal Deities, (and from Di●, if you trust Caesar, the Gauls, and by consequence our Britons, upon tradition of these Priests, drew their descent) with Oak; as 
g In 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 apud Scholiast. Apollonij uti Primùm didici à Iosepho S●aligero in Coniectaneis.  Sophocles hath it of Hecate, and 
* De nuptijs Pelei & Thetidos. §. His Corp●abus; tremulum. etc. ubi vulgatis deest ista, quae, antiquorum Codicum fide, est vera lectio. uti Scalig.  Catullus of the three Destinies. Neither will I desire you to spend conceit upon examination of that supposition which makes the name 
h Hector Both Scot hist. 2.  corrupted from Durcergliis, which in Scottish were such as had a holy charge committed to them; whereupon, perhaps, Bale says S. Columban was the chief of the Druids: I reckon that among the infinite Fables and gross absurdities, which its Author hath, without judgement, stuffed himself withal. For their PROFESSION, it was both of learning Profane and Holy (I speak in all, applying my words to their times:) They sat as judges, and determined all causes emergent, civil and criminal, subjecting the disobedient, and such as made default to interdicts, and censures▪ prohibiting them from sacred assemblies, taking away their capacities in honourable offices, and so disabling them, that (as our now Outlaws, excommunicats, and attainted persons) they might not commence suit against any man. In a multitude of verses they delivered what they taught, not suffering it to be committed to writing, so imitating both Cabalists, Pythagoreans and ancient 
* Cal. Rhodigin. Antiq. lect. 10. cap. 1.  Christians; but used in other private and public business Greek letters, as Caesar's copies have: but hereof see more to the X Song. Their more private and sacred learning consisted in Divinity, and Philosophy (see somewhat of that to the I. Song,) which was such, that although I think you may truly say with Origen 
a Ad jehezkel. 4. , that, before our saviours time, Britain acknowledged not one true God, yet it came as near to what they should have done, or rather nearer, than most of other, either Greek or Roman, as by their positions in Caesar, Strabo, Lucan, and the like discoursing of them, you may be satisfied. For although Apollo, Mars, and Mercury were worshipped among the vulgar Gauls, yet it appears that the Druids invocation was to one 
b Plin. Hist. Nat. 16. cap. 44.  All-healing or All-saving power. In Morality, their instructions, were so persuasive, and themselves of such reverence, that the most fiery rage of Mars kindled among the people, was by their grave counsels 
c Strab. Geograph. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  often quenched. Out of Pliny receive their form of ritual SACRIFICE (here described by the Author) thus: In such gloomy shadows, as they most usually for contemplation retired their ascending thoughts into, after exact search, finding an Oak, whereon a Mistletoe grew, on the VI day of the Moon (above all other times) in which, was beginning of their year, they religiously and with invocation brought with them to it a ceremonial banquet, materials for sacrifice, with two white Bulls, filleted on the horns, all which they placed under the Oak. 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 solemnly wrapped in one of their white garments. Then did they sacrifice the Bulls, earnestly calling on the 
* Omnia Sanantem.  All-healing Deity, to make it prosperous and happy on whom soever they shall bestow it, and accounted it both preservative against all Poisons, and a remedy against Barrenness. If I should imagine by this All-healing Deity, to be meant Apollo, whom they worshipped under name of Belin (as I tell you to the VIII. Sung) my conjecture were every way receivable; seeing that Apollo 
d Macrob. Saturnal. cap. 17.  had both among Greeks and Latins the Divine titles of 
* All three words as much as Physician.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, Medicus, and to him the invocation was 
* heal Apollo.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 all concurring in the same proofs but also if they had (as probability is enough to conjecture it) an Altar inscribed for this devotion, and used Greek letters (which to the next Song shall be somewhat examined) I could well think the dedication thus conceived. 
* To All healing Apollo: & Salutaris Apollo in Numm. Apud Goltzium. in Thes.  BEΛINΩ. ΤΩ, ΦANAKEL OR, 
* To God Belin.  BEΛINΩ. ΘEΩ. Which, very probably, was meant by some, making in Latin termination, and nearer Apollo's name 
* To God Abellio.  DEO ABELLIONI. As, an Inscription, in Gaul, to abiding memory committed by that most noble joseph 
e Ausoniarum. Lect. 1. cap. 9  Scaliger is red; and perhaps some relics or allusion to this name is in that DEO SANCTO BELATUCADRO ...... Yet remaining in 
f Camd. ibid.  Cumberland. Nor is it strange that Apollo's name should be thus far of ancient time, before communication of Religion twixt these Northern parts and the learned Gentiles, seeing that Caesar affirms him for one of their Deities; and, long before that, Abaris (about the beginning of the 
g 〈…〉 ap. Suid. in Aba●.  Olympiads) an Hyperborean is recorded for 
h Malchus. vit. Pythagorae.  Apollo's Priest among the utmost Scythians, being further from Hellenisme then our British. But I return to the Mistle: Hereto hath some referred 
i Virgil Aeneid. 6. Petr. Crinit. Hist. Poet. 6. cap. 10.  that which the sybil counseled Aeneas to carry with him to Proserpina; 
— 
* She directs him to seek a golden branch in the dark woods, consecrate to Proserpina.  latet arbore opacâ  
Aureus & folijs & lento vimine ramus  
junoni inferna dictus sacer: hunc tegit omnis  
Lucus, & obscuris claudunt convallibus umbrae.  Which may as well be so applied, as to 
k Bracesch. in Ligno vitae.  Chemistry; seeing it agrees also with what I spoke before of Dis, and that, Virgil expressly compares it to the Mistle, 
— 
* Which grows not of itself.  quod non sua seminat arbos.  for it springs out of some particular Nature of the Oaken stem, whereupon it is called by an old Poet 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: 
* Sweated of the Oak. jon apud Athenaeum Dipnosoph. 10.  and although it be not ordinarily found upon Oaks, yet, that oftimes it is any Apothecary can tell, which preserveth it for medicine, as the Ancients used to make Lime of it to catch birds: of which 
l Antholog. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. cap. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Argentarius hath an admonitory Epigram to a Blackbird, that she should not sing upon the Oak, because that 
— 
* Bred Lime to catch her.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉,  but on the Vine, dedicated to Bacchus, a great favourite of Singers. Upon this Druidian custom 
m Io. Goropius Gallic. 5. & ali●. , some have grounded that unto this day used in France, where the younger country fellows, about newyears tide in every Village give the wish of good fortune at the Inhabitants doors, with this acclamation, 
* To the Mistle, this new year.  Au guy l'an neuf; which, as I remember, in Rabelais is read all one word, for the same purpose. Whether this had any community with the institution of that 
n Plutarch. Problem. Rom. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Coelius Rhodigin. Antiq. lect. 18. cap. 14.  Temple 
* As if you should say of Mistled Fortune To the Mistle, the Druids used to cry.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in Antium, or that Ovid alluded to it in that verse, commonly cited out of him, 

* Lord King a health.  At (some read ad) Viscum Druida, Viscum clamare solebant;  I cannot assure you, yet it is enough likely. But I see a custom in some parts among us, in our language (nor is the digression too faulty) the same in effect; I mean the yearly was-haile in the country on the vigil of the New year, which had its beginning, as some 
p Galfred. Monameth l. 3. cap. 1.  say, from that of Ronix (Daughter to Hengist) her drinking to Vortigern, by these words 
* Drink the health.  Loverd king was-heil, he answering her by direction of an Interpreter, Drinc-heile, and 
q Rob. Glocestrens.  then, 
Kust● hire and sit hire adoune and glad drunk hire hell  
And that was tho in this land the verst was-hail  
As in language of Saxoyne that me might ever iwite  
And so well he paith the fool about, that he is not yet voryute.  Afterward it appears that was●haile and Drin●-heil were the usual phrases of quaffing among the English, as we see in 
r Vita Edwardi II.  Thomas de la Moor, and before him that old 
s In Architrens. lib. 2.  Havillan, thus: 
Ecce vagante cifo distento gutture wass-heil  
Ingeminant wass-heil—  But I rather conjecture it a usual ceremony among the Saxons before Hengist, as a note of health-wishing (and so perhaps you might make it wish-heil which was expressed among other nations in that form of drinking to the Health of their Mistresses and friends, 
Benè 
* Subintellige 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 aut quid simile.  vos, benè nos, benè te, benè me, benè nostram etiam  
Stephanium.  in 
t In Sticho.  Plautus, and infinite other testimonies of that nature (in him Martial, Ovid, Horace, and such more) agreeing nearly with the fashion now used; we calling it a Health, as 
* Propino tibi Salutem plenis faucibus, Plautus eâdem comoediâ.  they did also in direct terms; which, with an Idol called He●l, anciently worshipped, at Cerne in 
u Camdenus. The Wasshailboll.  Dorsetshire, by the English-Saxons, in name expresses both the ceremony of Drinking, and the New-year's acclamation (whereto in some parts of this Kingdom is joined also solemnity of drinking out of a * cup, ritually composed, decked, and filled with country liquor) just as much & as the same which that All-healing Deity, or All-helping medicine did among the Druids. You may to all this add, that, as an Earnest of good luck to follow the New-yeare beginning, it was 
x ovid. Faster. 1. Fest. in Strena.  usual among the Romans, as with us, and I think, in all Europe, at this day is, to greet each other with auspicious gifts. But hereof you say I unfitly expatiat: I omit, therefore their sacrificing of human bodies, and such like, and come to the PLACES of their assembly. This was about Chartres in Gaul, as Caesar tells us; Paul Merula (for affinity of name) imagines it to be Dreux, some eight miles on this side Chartres. And peradventure the Galatians public Council called 
y Strab. Geograph. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Drymenetum had hence Original. The British Druids took this Isle of Anglesey (than well stored with thick Woods, and religious Groves, in so much that it was called 
* The Dark Isle Brit.  Inis-Dowil) for their chief residence; as, in the Roman 
z Tacit. Annal. 14. & Vit. Agricolae.  story of Paulinus and Agricola's adventuring on it, is delivered. For their SUBVERSION; under Augustus and Tiberius they were prohibited 
a Sueton. lib. 5. cap. 24. & Plin. Hist. Nat. 30. cap. 1.  Rome; and Claudius, endeavoured it in 
b Senec. in Apo●oloc. & Sueton. ubi supra.  Gaul; yet in the succeeding Emperors times there were of them left, as appears in Lampridius and Vopiscus, mentioning them in their lives; and, long since that, Procopius, 
c De bell. Gothic. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  writing under justinian above D. years after Christ, affirms that then the Gauls used sacrifices of human flesh, which was a part of Druidian doctrine. If I should upon testimony 
d Hector. Boet. Scotor. hist. 2. & 6.  of, I know not what, Veremund campbel, and the Irish cornel, tell you that some C.LX years before Christ, Finnan K. of Scotland first gave them the Isle, or that K. Crathlint in Diocletians persecution, turned their Religion into Christianisme, and made Amphibalus first Bishop of Sodor, I should fabulously abuse time, as they have ignorantly mistook that Isle of Man, for this. Or to speak of the supposed their Druttenfuss i. a Pentagonal figure, engraven with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 or 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. (it is the same, in fashion, with the victorious seal of Antiochus Soter 
e Lucian 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉; Alij & habetur apud Agrippam in 3. d● Occulta Philosoph. cap. 31. atque ex Antiochi nammis apud I. Reuchlinum in 3. de arte Cabalisticà. , being admonished by Alexander in a dream, to take it) which in Germany they reckon for a preservative against Hobgoblins, were but to be indulgent to old wives traditions. Only thus much for a corollary, I will note to you; Conrade 
f Tract. de Hercy●ia Sylva.  Celtes observes, to be in an Abbey at the foot of Vichtelberg hill, near Voitland, six Statues, of stone, set in the Church-wall, some VII. foot every one tall, bare head and foot, cloaked and hooded, with a bag, a book, a staff, a beard hanging to his middle, and spreading a Mustachio, an austere look and eyes fixed on the earth; which he conjectures to be Images of them. Upon mistaking of Strabo, and applying what he saith in general, and bracelets and gold chains of the Gauls, to the Druids, I once thought that Conrade had been deceived. But I can now upon better advice incline to his judgement.  
Which with my Prince's Court I sometimes pleased to grace.  
For, as in South-Wales, Caermardhin, and afterward Dineuowr; in Powis, Shrewsbury, and then Mathraual, so in North-wales was Aber-fraw, in Anglesey, chief place of the Prince's 
g Pris. in descript. Wall.  residence.  
Lest (by reason of the Composition in Print) some pages should have been idle, and because also here is so much of the Welsh Story, I inserted this Chronologie of the Kings and Princes of Wales, from Arthur, until the end of the British blood in them.  

Of Christ.  D.XVI 
Arthur succeeded his father Uther Pendragon: of his death, see to the III. Song. 
I will not justify the times of this Arthur, nor the rest, before Cadwallader; so discording are our Chronologers: nor had ● time to examine, nor think that any man hath sufficient means to rectify them.   D.XLII. 
Constantine, son to Cador Duke of Cornwall (understand Governor or L. Lieutenant; for, neither in those times nor long after, was any such title particularly Honorary:) he lies buried at Stonehenge.  DXLU. 
Aurelius Conan.  D.LXXVIII. 
Vortipor.  D.LXXXI. 
Malgo.  D.LXXXVI. 
Catherie. In his time the Britons had much adverse fortune in War with the Saxons; and then, most of all, made that secession into Wales and Cornwall, yet in name retaining hereof remembrance.  About DC. 
Cadwan.  About DC.XXX 
Cadwalin or Cadwallo: the Britons as in token of his Powerful resistance and dominion against the Saxons, put 
* This report is, as the British story tells, hardly justifiable, if examined.  him, being dead, into a brazen Horse, and set it on the top of the West gate of London; it seems he means Ludgate.  DC.LXXVI. 
Cadwallader, son to Cadwallo. Of him and his name, see before. Nor think I the British and English Chronicles, concerning him, reconcileable. In him the chief Monarchy and Glory of the British failed.  DC.LXXXVIII. 
juor son to Alan, K. of Armorique Britain. This juor they make (but I examine it not now) Ine K. of Westsaxons in our Monks; that is, he which began the Petter-pences to Rome.  DCC.XX. 
Roderique Molwinoc son of Edwal 
* The Roose.  Ywrch.  DCC.LV. 
Conan Tindaethwy, son of Roderique.  Near DCCC.XX. 
mervin Vrich, in right of his wife Esylht, daughter and heir to Roderique.  DCCC.XLIII. 
Roderique Mawr, son to Mervin and Esyhlt. Among his sons was the tripartit division of Wales (as to the VII. Sung) into Powise, North, and South-Wales.  DCCC.LXXVII. 
Anarawd son to Roderique.  DCCCC. XIII. 
Edward Voel, son of Anarawd.  DCCCC. XL. 
Howel Dha, cousin German to Edwal, having before, the Principality of South-Wales and Powis. This is he whose Laws are so famous and inquired of in Rot. Claus. Wall. 9 Ed. 1. in the Tower.  DCCCC. XLVIII. 
Ieuaf and jago, sons of Edwal Voel.  DCCCC. LXXXII 
Howel ap Ieuaf.  DCCCC. XXCIV. 
Cadwalhon ap Ieuaf.  DCCCC. XXCVI. 
Meredith ap Owen.  DCCCC. XCII. 
Edwal ap Meiric.  M.III 
Aedan ap Blegored.  M.XU 
Lhewelin ap Sitsylht.  M.XXI 
jago ap Edwal ap Meyric.  M.XXXVII. 
Gruffyth ap Lhewelin.  M.LXI 
Blethin and Rhywallon ap Connin.  M.LXXIII. 
Trahaern ap Caradoc.  M.LXXVIII. 
Gruffyth ap Conan. He reformed the Welsh Poets and Minstrels, and brought over others out of Ireland to instruct the Welsh, as to the IV. Song.  M.CXXXVII. 
Owen Gwineth ap Gruffyth ap Conan.  M.C.LXIX. 
David ap Owen Gwineth. In his time, Madoc his brother discovered part of the West Indus.  M.C.XCIV. 
Lhewelin ap jorwerth ap Owen Gwineth.  M.CC.XL. 
David ap Lhewelin ap jorwerth.  M.CC.XLVI. 
Lhewelin ap Gruffyth ap Lhewelin ap jorwerth, the last Prince of Wales of the British blood.  M.CC.LXXXII. 
Ed. I Conquered Wales, and got the Principality, Lhewelin then slain; and since that (Henry III. before gave it also to his son Prince Edward) it hath been in the eldest sons, and heirs apparent of the English Crown.   
But note, that after the Division among Roderique Mawrs sons, the Principality was chiefly in North-wales, 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, until this last Lhewelin.    

  

The tenth Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
The serious Muse herself applies  
To Merlin's ancient prophecies,  
At Dinas Emris; where he showed  
How Fate the Britain's rule bestowed.  
To Conway next she turns her tale,  
And sings her Cluyds renowned Vale;  
Then of Saint Winifrid doth tell,  
And all the wonders of her Well;  
Makes Dee, Bruits history pursue:  
At which, she bids her Wales Adieu.  
AWhile thus taking breath, our way yet fair in view,  
The Muse her former course doth seriously pursue.  
From Penmens' craggy height to try her saily wings, 
Penmenmaure.   
Herself long having bathed in the delicious Springs  
(That trembling from his top through long-worne crannies creep,  
To spend their liquid store on the insatiate Deep)  
She meets with Conway first, 
Pearl in the River Conway.  which lieth next at hand:  
Whose precious orient Pearl that breedeth in her sand,  
Above the other floods of Britain doth her grace:  
Into the Irish Sea which making out her race,  
Supplied by many a Mere (through many several Rills  
Into her bosom poured) her plenteously she fills.  
O goodly River! near unto thy sacred Spring  
§. Prophetic Merlin sat, when to the British King  
The changes long to come, auspiciously he told.  
Most happy were thy Nymphs, that wondering did behold,  
His graver wrinkled brow, amazed and did hear  
The dreadful words he spoke, that so ambiguous were.  
Thrice happy Brooks, I say, that (every way about)  
Thy tributaries be: as is that Town, whereout  
Into the Sea thou fallest, which Conway of thy name  
Perpetually is called, to register thy fame.  
For thou, clear Conway, heard'st wise Merlin first relate  
The Destiny's Decree, of Britain's future fate;  
Which truly he foretold proud Vortiger should lose:  
As, when him from his seat the Saxons should depose:  
The forces that should here from 
c Little Britain in France.  Armorick arrive,  
Yet far too weak from hence the enemy to drive:  
And to that mighty King, which rashly undertook  
A strong-walled Tower to rear, those earthly spirits that shook  
The great foundation still, in Dragon's horrid shape,  
That dreaming Wizard told; making the Mountain gape  
With his most powerful charms, to view those Caverns deep;  
And from the top of 
* Part of the Snowdon.  Birth, so high and wondrous steep,  
Where Dinas Emris stood, show'd where the Serpents fought,  
The White that tore the Red; from whence the Prophet wrought  
The Britain's sad decay then shortly to ensue.  
O! happy ye that heard the man who all things knew  
Until the general Doom, through all the world admired:  
By whose Prophetic Saws ye all became inspired;  
As well the forked Neage, that nearest her Fountain springs,  
With her beloved maid, Melandidar, that brings  
Her flow, where Conway forth into the Sea doth slide  
(That to their Mistress 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 guard her while she glide  
Along the goodly Vale (which with her wealth pride  
Much beautifies her banks; so naturally her own,  

The situation of Dyfferens Cluyd.  That Dyffren Cluyd by her both far and near is known)  
With high embatteld hills that each way is enclosed  
But only on the North: and to the North disposed,  
Fierce Boreas finds access to court the dainty Vale:  
Who, whispering in her ear with many a wanton tale,  
Allures her to his love (his Leman her to make)  
As one that in himself much suffereth for her sake.  
The 
d Isles upon the north-east & West of Scotland.  Orcadeses, and all those 
d Isles upon the north-east & West of Scotland.  Eubides embraced  
In Neptune's aged arms, to Neptune seeming chaste,  
Yet prostitute themselves to Boreas; who neglects  
The Caledonian Downs, nor ought at all respects  
The other inland Dales, abroad that scattered lie,  
Some on the English earth, and some in Albany;  
But, courting Dyffren Cluyd, her beauty doth prefer.  
Such dalliance as alone the North-wind hath with her,  

In the vi. book of Ovid's Metamorph.  Orithya not enjoyed, from Thrace when he her took,  
And in his saylie plumes the trembling Virgin shook:  
But through the extreme love he to this Vale doth bear,  
Grows jealous at the length, and mightily doth fear  
Great Neptune, whom he sees to smug his horrid face:  
And, fearing lest the God should so obtain her grace,  
From the Septentrion cold, in the breem freezing air,  
Where the bleak North-wind keeps, still domineering there,  
From Shetland straddling wide, 
The Tides out of the North and South Seas, meeting in S. George's channel.  his foot on Thuly sets:  
Whence storming, all the vast Deucalidon he threats,  
And bears his boisterous waves into the narrower mouth  
Of the Vergivian Sea: where meeting, from the South,  
Great Neptune's surlier tides, with their robustious shocks,  
Each other shoulder up against the grisly Rocks;  
As strong men when they meet, contending for the path:  
But, coming near the Coast where Cluyd her dwelling hath,  
The North-wind (calm become) forgets his Ire to wreak,  
§. And the delicious Vale thus mildly doth bespeak;  
Deer Cluyd, th'abundant sweets, that from thy bosom flow,  
When with my active wings into the air I throw,  
Those Hills whose hoary heads seem in the clouds to dwell,  
Of aged become young, enamoured with the smell  
Of th'odoriferous flowers in thy most precious lap:  
Within whose veluit leaves, when I myself enwrap,  
They suffocate with scents; that (from my native kind)  
I seem some slow perfume, and not the swistest wind.  
With joy, my Dyffren Cluyd, I see thee bravely spread,  
Survaying every part, from foot up to thy head;  
Thy full and youthful breasts, which in their meadowy pride,  
Are branched with rivery veins, Meander-like that glide.  
I further note in thee, more excellent than these  
(Were there a thing that more the amorous eye might please)  
Thy plump and swelling womb, whose mellowy glebe doth bear  
The yellow ripened sheaf, that bendeth with the care.  
Whilst in this sort his suit he amorously preferred,  
Moylvennill near at hand, the North-wind overheard:  
And, vexed at the heart, that he a Mountain great,  
Which long time in his breast had felt loves kindly heat,  
As one whom crystal Cluyd had with her beauty caught,  
Is for that rivers sake near of his wits distraught,  
With inly rage to hear that Valley so extolled;  
And yet that Brook whose course so batfull makes her mould,  
And one that lends that Vale her most renowned name,  
Should of her meaner far, be over-gone in fame.  
Wherefore, 
Riverets running into Cluyd out of Denbigh and Flintshire.  Moylevennill willed his Cluyd herself to show:  
Who, from her native Fount, as proudly she doth flow,  
Her handmaids Manian hath, and Hespin, her to bring  
To Ruthin. Whose fair seat first kindly visiting,  
To lead her thence in state, Lewenny lends her source:  
That when Moylvennill sees his rivers great recourse,  
From his entrenched top is pleased with her supplies.  
Claweddock cometh in, and Istrad likewise hies  
Unto the Queenlike Cluyd, as she to Denbigh draws:  
And on the other side, from whence the Morning daws,  
down from the Flintian hills, comes Wheler, her to bear  
To sacred Asaph's See, his hallowed Temple; where  
Fair Elwy having won her sister Aleds power,  
They entertain their Cluyd near mighty Neptune's bower:  
Who likewise is sustained by Senion, last that falls,  
And from the Virgins Well doth wash old Ruthlands walls.  
Moylvennill with her sight that never is sufficed,  
Now with excessive joy so strongly is surprised,  
That thus he proudly spoke; On the Gwynethian ground  
(And look from East to West) what Country is there crowned  
As thou 
b Part of the Vale called Tag-Engle i. Fair England.  Tegenia art? that, with a Vale so rich  
(Cut through with the Cluyd, whose graces me bewitch)  
The fruitfulst of all Wales, so long hast honoured been:  
As also by thy Spring, such wonder who dost win,  
§. That naturally remote, six British miles from Sea,  

A Fountain ebbing and flowing, contrary to the course of the Sea.  And rising on the Firm, yet in the natural day  
Twice falling, twice doth fill, in most admired wise.  
When Cynthia from the East unto the South doth rise,  
That mighty Neptune flows, then strangely ebbs thy Well:  
And when again he sinks, as strangely she doth swell;  
§. Yet to the sacred fount of Winifrid gives place;  
Of all the Cambrian Springs of such especial grace,  
That oft the 
* Of Dee.  Devian Nymphs, as also those that keep  
Amongst the Corall-groves in the Verginian Deep,  
Have left their watery bowers, their secret safe Retire,  
To see her whom report so greatly should admire  
(Whose waters to this day as perfect are and clear,  
As her delightful eyes in their full beauties were,  
A virgin while she lived) chaste Winifrid: who chose  
Before her mayden-gem she forcibly would lose,  
To have her harmless life by the lewd Rapter spilled:  
For which, still more and more to aggravate his guilt,  
The lifeless tears she shed, into a Fountain turn.  
And, that for her alone the water should not mourn,  
The pure vermilion blood, that issued from her veins,  
Unto this very day the pearly Gravel stains;  
As erst the white and red were mixed in her cheek.  
And, that one part of her might be the other like,  
Her hair was turned to moss; whose sweetness doth declare,  
In liveliness of youth the natural sweets she bore:  
And of her holy life the innocence to show,  
Whatever living thing into this Well you throw,  
She strongly bears it up, not suffering it to sink.  
Besides, the wholesome use in bathing, or in drink.  
Doth the diseased cure, as thereto she did leave  
Her virtue with her name, that time should not bereave.  
Scarce of this tedious tale Moylevennill made an end,  
But that the higher 
a A place mountainous, and somewhat inaccessible.  Yale, whose being doth ascend  
Into the pleasant East, his loftier head advanced.  
This Region, as a man that long had been entranced  
(Whilst thus himself to please, the mighty Mountain tells  
Such 
* Strange things.  farlies of his Cluyd, and of his wondrous Wells)  
Stood thinking what to do: least fair Tegenia, placed  
So admirably well, might hold herself disgraced  
By his so barren site, being Mountainous and cold,  
To nothing more unlike than 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 coin some poor excuse)  
Unto his proper praise, discreetly doth produce  
A Valley, for a Vale, of her peculiar kind;  
In goodness, breadth, and length, though Dyffren far behind:  
On this yet dare he stand, that for the natural frame,  
§. That figure of the Cross, of which it takes the name,  
Is equal with the best, which else excel it far:  
And by the power of that most sacred Character,  
Respect beyond the rest unto herself doth win.  
When now the sterner Dee doth instantly begin  
His ampler self to show, that (down the verdant Dale)  
Strains, in his nobler course along the rougher Yale,  
T'invite his favouring Brooks: where from that spacious Lin▪  
Through which he comes unmixed, 
The Rivers in the East of Denbigh, falling into Dee.  first Alwin falleth in:  
And going on along, still gathering up his force,  
Gets Gerrow to his aid, 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 she may greet,  
Till like two loving friends they under Wrexam meet.  
Then allen makes approach (to Dee most inly dear)  
Taking Tegiddog in; who, earnest to be there,  
For haste, twice under earth her crystal head doth run:  
When instantly again, Dee's holiness begun,  
By his contracted front and sterner waves, to show  
That he had things to speak, might profit them to know;  
A Brook, that was supposed much business to have seen,  
Which had 
b See to the VIII. Song.  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 either's war, or peace,  
The sickness, or the health, the dearth, or the increase:  
And that of all the Floods of Britain, he might boast  
His stream in former times to have been honoured most,  
When as at Chester once king Edgar held his Court,  
§. To whom eight lesser Kings with homage did resort:  
That mighty Mercian Lord, him in his Barge bestowed,  
And was by all those Kings about the River rowed.  
For which, the hallowed Dee so much upon him took.  
And now the time was come, that this imperious Brook,  
The long traduced Brute determined to awake,  
And in the Britain's right thus boldly to them spoke;  
O ye the ancient race of famous Brute that be,  
§. And thou the Queen of Isles, great Britain; why do ye  
Your grandsire's Godlike name (with a neglectful ear)  
In so reproachful terms and ignominy hear,  
By every one of late contemptuously disgra'ct;  
That he whom Time so long, and strongly hath embraced,  
Should be rejected quite? The reason urged why,  
Is by the general foe thus answered by and by:  
That Brutus, as you say, by Sea who hither came,  
From whom you would suppose this I'll first took the name,  
merely fictitious is; nor could the Romans hear  
(Most studious of the truth, and nearest those times that were)  
Of any such as he: nay, they who most do strive,  
From that great stock of Troy their lineage to derive,  
In all the large descent of Iülus, never found  
That Brute, on whom we might our first beginning ground.  
To this Assertion, thus I faithfully reply;  
And as a friend to Truth, do constantly deny  
Antiquity to them, as nearer to those times;  
Their writings to precede our ancient British Rhymes:  
But that our noble Bards which so divinely sung  
That remnant of old Troy, of which the Britain's sprung,  
Before those Romans were, as proof we can produce;  
§. And learning, long with us, ere 'twas with them in use.  
And they but idly talk, upbraiding us with lies.  
§. That Geffray Monmouth, first, our Brutus did devise,  
Not heard of till his time our Adversary says:  
When pregnantly we prove, ere that Historians days,  
A thousand lingering years, our Prophets clearly sung  
The Britaine-founding Brute, most frequent them among.  
From Taliessen wise (approved so with us,  
That what he spoke, was held to be oraculous,  
So true his writings were) and such immortal men  
As this now-waning world shall hardly hear again  
In our own genuine tongue, that natives were of Wales  
Our Geffray had his Brute. Nor were these idle tales  
(As he may find, the truth of our descents that seeks)  
Nor fabulous, like those devised by the Greeks:  
But from the first of Time, by judges still were heard,  
Discreetly every 
a At the Stethua: see to the fourth Song.  year correcting where they erred.  
And that whereon our Foe his greatest hold doth take,  
Against the handled Cause and most doth seem to make,  
Is, that we show no Book our Brutus to approve;  
But that our idle Bards, as their fond rage did move,  
Sang what their fancies pleased. Thus do I answer these;  
That th'ancient British Priests, 
The Druids would not commit their mysteries to writing.  the fearless Druids,  
That ministered the laws, and were so truly wise,  
That they determined states, attending sacrifice,  
§. To letters never would their mysteries commit,  
For which the breasts of men they deemed to be more fit.  
Which questionless should seem from judgement to proceed.  
For, when of Ages passed we look in books to read,  
We recklessly discharge our memory of those.  
So when injurious Time, such Monuments doth lose  
(As what so great a Work, by Time that is not wracked?)  
We utterly forego that memorable act:  
But when we lay it up within the minds of men,  
They leave it their next Age; that, leaves it hers again:  
So strongly which (me thinks) doth for Tradition make,  
As if you from the world it altogether take,  
You utterly subvert Antiquity thereby.  
For though Time well may prove that often she doth lie,  
Posterity by her yet many things hath known,  
That ere men learned to write, could no way have been shown:  
For, if the spirit of God, did not our faith assure  
The Scriptures be from heaven, like heaven, divinely pure,  
Of Moses mighty works, I reverently may say  
(I speak with godly fear) Tradition put away,  
In power of human wit it easily doth not lie  
To prove before the Flood the Genealogy.  
Nor any thing there is that kindlier doth agree  
With our descent from Troy (if things compared may be)  
Then peopling of this place, near to those Ages, when  
Exiled by the Greeks, those poor world-wandring men  
(Of all hope to return into their Country reft)  
Sought shores whereon to set that little them was left:  
From some such Godlike race we questionless did spring,  
Who soon became so great here once inhabiting.  
So barbarous nor were we as many have us made,  
And Caesar's envious pen would all the world persuade,  
His own ambitious ends in seeking to advance,  
When with his Roman power arriving here from France,  
If he the Britain's found experienced so in war,  
That they with such great skill could wield their armed Car;  
And, as he still came on, his skilful march to let,  
Cut down their aged Oaks, and in the Rivers set  
The sharp steele-poynted stakes, as he the Foards should pass;  
I fain would understand how this that Nation was  
So ignorant he would make, and yet so knowing war.  
But, in things passed so long (for all the world) we are  
Like to a man embarked, and traveling the Deep:  
Who sailing by some hill, or promontory steep  
Which iuts into the Sea, with an amazed eye  
Beholds the Cleeves thrust up into the lofty sky.  
And th'more that he doth look, the more it draws his sight;  
Now at the craggy front, then at the wondrous weight:  
But, from the passed shore still as the swelling sail  
(Thrust forward by the wind) the floating Bark doth hail,  
The mighty Giant-heape, so less and lesser still  
Appeareth to the eye, until the monstrous hill  
At length shows like a cloud; and further being cast,  
Is out of kenning quite: So, of the Ages past;  
Those things that in their Age much to be wondered were,  
Still as wing-footed Time them farther off doth bear,  
Do lessen every hour. When now the mighty press,  
Impatient of his speech, entreat the Flood to cease,  
And cry with one consent, the Saxon state to show,  
As angry with the Muse such labour to bestow  
On Wales, but England still neglected thus to be.  
And having past the time, the honourable Dee  
At Chester was arrived, and bade 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 Northern and Maritime shires of Wales; which conclude these seven last books dedicated to the glory of that third part of Great Britain.  
Prophetic Merlin sat, when to the British King.  
In the first declining State of the British Empire (to explain the Author in this of Merlin) Vortigern, by advice of his Magicians, after divers unfortunate successes in war, resolved to erect a strong Fort in Snowdon hills (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 work begun; but what they built in the day, was always swallowed up in the earth next, night. The King asks counsel of his Magicians, touching this prodigy: they advise that he must find out a child which had no father, and with his blood sprinkle the stones and mortar, and that then the Castle would stand as on a firm foundation. Search was made, and in Carmarthen (as you have it to the V. Song) was Merlin Ambrose found: he, being hither brought to the King, slighted that pretended skill of those Magicians as palliated ignorance; and with confidence of a more knowing spirit, undertakes to show the true cause of that amazing ruin of the stonework; tells them that in the earth was a great water, which could endure continuance of no heavy superstruction. The workmen digged to discover the truth, & found it so. Heathen beseeches the King to cause them make further inquisition, & affirms, that in the bottom of it were two sleeping Dragons: which proved so likewise, the one white, the other red; the white he interpreted for the Saxons▪ the red for the Britons: and upon this event here in 
a Ambrose's Bury. Itinerar. 2. cap. 8.  Dinas Emrys, as they call it, began he those prophecies to Vortigern, which are common in the British story. Hence questionless was that Fiction of the Muse's best pupil, the noble Spenser 
b Fairy Q lib. 1. Cant. 9 Stanz. 4. , in supposing Merlin usually to visit his old Timon, whose dwelling he places 
— low in a valley green  
Under the foot of Rauran mossy hore  
From whence the River Dee as silver clean  
Has tumbling billows rolls with gentle roar.   
For this Rauran-Vaur hill is there by in Merioneth: but observe withal, the difference of the Merlin's, Ambrose, and Sylvester, which is before to the IV Song; and permit it, only as Poetical, that he makes K. Arthur and this Merlin of one time. 
Merlin's Prophecies.  These prophecies were by Geffrey ap Arthur at request of Alexander Bishop of Lincoln under Hen. I turned into Latin, and some CCC. years since had interpretation bestowed on them by a Germane Doctor, one Alanus de Insulis, who never before, but twice since that happy inauguration & mighty increase of Dominion in our Present Sovereign hath been imprinted. It is certain that oftimes they may be directly and without constraint applied to some event of succeeding time▪ as that which we have before to the V. Song of Caerleon, and this, the Isle shall again be named after Brute; 
Great Britain.  which is now seen by a public Edict, and in some of his majesties present Coins, and with more such: yet seeing learned 
c wire de praestiijs Demon. 2. cap. 16. a●ij.  men accounted him but a professor of unjustifiable Magic, and that all prophecies either fall true, or else are among the affecters of such vanity perpetually expected, and that of later time the Council of Trent have by their Expurgatories, prohibited it, I should abuse you, if I endeavoured to persuade your belief to to conceit of a true foreknowledge in him.  
And the delicious Vale thus mildly doth be speak.  
If your conceit yet see not the purpose of this Fiction, than thus take 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 breadth, having those three excellencies, a fertile soil, healthful air, & pleasant seat for habitation, washed through the middle with this River, and encompassed on the East, West, and South with high Mountains, freely receives the wholesome blasts of the north-wind (much accounted of among builders and Geoponiques for immission of pure air) coming in from that part which lies open to the Sea: whereupon the Muse very properly makes the Vale here Boreas his beloved; and in respect of his violence against the waters, supposeth him jealous of Neptune; whose ravishing waves in that troubled Irish Sea and the depressed state of the Valley warrants it. And for that of Moluennils love to the River, wanton running by him; I know your conceit cannot but apprehend it.  
That naturally remote six British miles from Sea.  
It is in the Parish of Kilken in Flintshire, where it ebbeth 
d Hum. Lhuid. descript.  and floweth in direct opposite times to the Sea, as the Author describes; they call it 
e Povel. ad Girald. Itinerar. 1. cap. 10.  Finon Leinw: Such a one is there about a furlong from the Severne Sea, by Newton in 
f straddling. ap Camd.  Glamorganshire, and another ebbing and flowing (but with the common course of the Moon, ascending or setting) by Dinevor 
g Girald. Itinerar. 1. cap. 10.  in Caermerdhinshire. Nor think I any reasons more difficult to be given, than those which are most specially hidden, and most frequently strange in particular qualities of Floods, Welles, and Springs; in which (before all other) Nature seems as if she had, for man's wonder, affected a not intelligible variety, so different, so remote from conceit of most piercing wits; and such unlooked for operations both of their first and second qualities (to use the School phrase of them) are in every Chronographer, Naturalist, and Historian.  
Yet to the sacred fount of Winifrid gives place.  
At Haliwell a Maritime village, near Basingwerke in Flint, is this Winifred's Well, whose sweetness in the Moss, wholesomeness for bath, and other such useful qualities▪ have been referred to her martyrdom in this place. But D. Powel upon Girald, in effect thus: Hen. II. in his first Welsh expedition fortified the Castle of Basingwerke, and near by, made a Cell for Templars, which continued there until their dissolution under 
* 5. Ed. 2.  Edward II. and was after converted to a nest of lubberly Monks, whose superstitious honouring her, more than truth, caused this dedication of the Fountain; so much to their profit (in a kind of merchandise then, too shamefully in request) that they had large guerdons (it belonging to the cell) of those, which had there any medicine, beside increasing rents which accrued to them yearly out of Pardons to such as came thither in solemn Pilgrimage. This title of exaction they purchased of PP. Martin V. under Henry the V. and added more such gaigning pretences to themselves in time of Hen. VII. by like authority; nor, until the more clear light of the Gospel, yet continuing its comfortable beams among us, dissipated those foggy mists of error and smoake-selling imposture, ended these collected revenues. The Author follows the Legend; but observe times compared, and you shall find no mention of this Well, and the healthful operations of it, until long after the supposed time of S. Winifred's martyrdom.  
That figure of the Cross of which it takes the name.  
Depressed among Mountains this Valley expresses the form of a Cross, and so is called the Cross vale, and in British Lhan Gwest.  
To whom eight lesser Kings with homage did resort.  
Upon comparing our Stories, I find them to be Kenneth of Scotland, Malcolm of Cumberland, Malcuze K. of the Isles (whom Malmesbury gives only the name of Archpirat) Donald, Siffreth, Howel, jago, and Inchith●ll Kings of Wales. All these, he (thus touched with imperious affection of glory) sitting at the Stern, compelled to row him over Dee; his greatness as well in fame as truth, daily at this time increasing, caused multitudes of aliens, to admire and visit his Court, as a place honoured above all other by this so mighty and worthy a Prince: and, through that abundant confluence, such vicious courses followed by example, that, even now was the age, when first the more simple and frugal natures, of the English, grew infected with what (in some part) yet we languish. For, before his time, the Angles hither traduced, being 
* Honest men, by simplicity of nature, looking only to their own, neglecting others Malmesbur.  homines integri, and using naturals simplicitate sua defensare, aliena non mirart, did now learn from the stranger-Saxons an uncivil kind of fierceness, of the Flemings effeminacy, of the Danes drunkenness, and such other; which so increased, that, for amendment of the last, the King was driven to constitute quantities in quasting bowls by little pings of metal, set at certain distances, beyond which, none durst swallow in that provocation of good fellowship.  
As thou, the Q. of Isles, great Britain—  
Both for excellence in soil and air, as also for large continent she hath this title. And although in ancientest time of the greeks (that hath any story or Chorography) Sardinia was accounted the 
h Scylax. Caryand. in 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Edit. per D. Ho schelium.  greatest Isle, and by some Sicily, as the old verses of the 
i Eustath. ad Dionys. Asrum.  Seven tell us, and that by 
k Geograph. lib. ●. cap. ●.  Ptolemy the East- Indian Tapobran, now called Sumatra, had pre-eminence of quantity before this of ours; yet certainly, by comparison of that with this, either according to the measure took of it by Onesicrit 
l Solin poly●ist. cap. 66.  upon Alexander's commandment, or what later time teaches us, we cannot but affirm with the Author here in substance, that 
— 
* No other Isle is equal to Britain.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  as, long since, Dionysius Afer of our Britain, which hath given cause to call it Another world, as the attibutes of it in Virgil, Horace, Claudian, and others justify.  
And learning long with us ere 'twas with them in use.  
For the Druids, being in profession very proportionat in many things to cabbalistic and Pythagorean doctrine, may well be supposed much ancienter than any that had note of learning among the Romans, who 
m V. Liu. Decad. 1. lib. 6.  before Livius Salinator, and Naevius, Ennius, Pacnuius, Accius, and others, not much preceding Caesar, can scarce show steps of Poesy, nor before Fabius Pictor, Valerius Antias, and some such now left only in their names (although by pretence of Annius there be a piece of Pictor published) can produce the title of a story; whereas we have 
n Bal. centur. 1.  some that make that supposed eldest Historian (of the Gentiles) extant, Dares Phrygius, translated by Cornelius Nepos, and dedicated to Sallust, to have lived here, but indeed upon no such warrant, as I dare trust.  
Our Geffrey Monmouth first our Brutus to devise.  
It was so laid to Geffrey's charge (he was Bishop of S. Asaphs, under K. Stephen) by john of Whethamsted, Abbot of S. Albon, William Petit, called William of Newborough and some other: but plainly (let the rest of his story, and the particulars of Brute be as they can) the name of Brute was long before him in Welsh (out of which his story was partly translated) & Latin testimonies of the Britain's, as I have, for the Author, more largely spoken, to the I. Song. And (a little to continue my first justification, for this time) why may not we as well think that many stories & relations, anciently written here, have been by the Picts, Scots, Romans, Danes, Saxons & Normans, devoured up from posterity, which perhaps, had they been left to us, would have ended this controversy? Shall we doubt of what Livy, Polybius, Halicarnasseus, Plutarch, Strabo, and many others have had out of Fabius, Antias, Chereas, Solylus, Ephorus, Theopompus, Cato, Quadrigarius, with infinite other, now lost, writers, because we see not the self Authors? No, Time hath ransacked more precious things, and even those superexcellent books, wherein that incomparable Solomon wrote from the Cedar to the Hyssop, were (upon fear of the facile multitudes too much respecting natural causes in them divinely handled) by K. Ezechias suppressed from succeeding ages, if my 
c In Zerror Hammor. apud Midst. a● Exod. 15.  Authority deceive not. So that the loss in this, and all kinds, to the Commonwealth of letters, hath been so grievous and irreparable, that we may well imagine, how error of conceit in some envy in others, and hostile invasion hath bereft us of many monuments most precious in all sorts of literature, if we now enjoyed their instructing use: and to conclude, the antiquities of these Original ages are like those of Rome, between it built and burnt by the Gauls; 
* Worn away by devouring time, and the enemies ransacking the City, etc. Of the Druid▪ see fully to the IX. Song.  Cum vetustate nimiâ obscurae, velut quae (as 
d Dec. 1. lib. 6.  Livy says) magno ex interuallo locivix cernuntur: tum quod perrarae, per eadem tempora Literae fuêre, una custodia ●idelis memoriae rerum gestarum; &, quod etiam, si quae in commentariss Pontificum alijsque publicis privatisque erant monumentis, incensa urbe, pleraque interiere. But all this in effect the Muse tells you in the VI Canto.  
To letters never would their mysteries commit.  
What they taught their Scholars for matter of law, Heathenish Religion, and such learning as they here were precedents of, was delivered 
e Caesar. de Bell. Gallic. lib. 6.  only by word of mouth; and, lest memory unused might so fail, they permitted not commission, of their Lectures and instructions, to the custody of writing, but delivered all in a multitude of Verses and Pythagorean precepts, exactly imitating the Cabalists; which, until of late time, wrote not, but taught and learned by mouth and diligent hearing of their Rabbins. In other matters, private and public (so is Caesar's assertion) they 
* Graecis literis utuntur. What language and letters the Druids used.  used Greek letters, which hath made some think that they wrote Greek. But ●e not easily thereto persuaded. Perhaps they might use Greek Characters, seeing that those which the greeks then had▪ and now use, were at first received from 
f Varro de ling. lat. 7.  strangers, and as likely from the Druids as from any other; for it is sufficiently justifiable out of old Coins, inscriptions, and express 
Plin. Hist. Nat. 7. cap. 58: & si placet, vide. as Annianos' illos, Archilochum, de Temporibus, & Xenophontem in Aequinocis.  assertion, that the ancient Character among the greeks was almost the same with that which is now the Latins. But thence to collect that therefore they wrote or spoke Greek, is as if you should affirm the Syriac Testament to be Hebrew, because published in Hebrew letters; or some Latin Treatises, Saxon, because in that Character; or that the Saxons wrote Irish, because they used the 
h Camd in Hibernia. &, Per Graecas literas in ara Vessi● in consinio Rhetis & Germaniae, apud Tacitum, Lapsius Characteres selummodo intelligit.  Irish form of writing; or that those books which are published in Dutch by some jews in a special kind of Hebrew letter, should also be of the same tongue. Observe but this passage in Caesar: He sends by a Gaul (alured to this use against his country by large rewards) a letter to Q. Cicero, being then besieged about 
* Neruij. de bello Gallic. 5.  where now is Tourney, & 
* Wrote it in Greek, lest the enemy might, by intercepting the letters, discover his design.  Graecis conscripsit literis, ne, interceptâ Epistolà, nostra (saith he himself) ab hostibus Consilia cognoscantur. To what purpose did he thus, if the Gauls, or their Statesmen the Druids understood Greek? I know what he 
i De Bell. Gallic. 1.  writes of those Tables of account found in the now Suitzerland, but shall not soon believe that they had much more Greek in them then the Character. If you object 
k Geograph. ●l.  Strabo his affirmance, that the Gauls (for as long as I speak of them in general in this kind, I well include our Druids, as sufficient reason is elsewhere given) were grown such lovers of that tongue, 
* That they wrote their instruments of Contract in Greek.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, It is soon answered, that he speaks only of those about Marsilles, which was, and is well known to all men, to have been a Colony of Phocians, out of the now Anatolia (which were greeks) by appointment of Fate arriving 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 (according to their custom) in a banquet by Gyptis the King's daughter for her husband; Hereto success grew so fortunate, that hovorable respect on both sides joined with imitation of Greek Civility (after this City built near their arrive) it seemed, as my author 
a Trog. Pomp. Hist. 43.  says, as if Gaul had been turned into Greece, rather than Greece to have travailed into Gaul. Wonder not then why, about Marsilles, Greek was so respected, nor why in the Romgunt-French now such Hellenismes are: here you see apparent Original of it; yet conclude, upon the former reasons, that the Druids and Gauls used a peculiar tongue, and very likely the same with the now Welsh, as Most learned Camden hath even demonstrated; although I know some great Scholars there are, which still suspend their judgement, and make it a doubt, as ever things of such antiquity will be. But (if you will) add hereto that of the famous and great Lawyer 
b Franco-Gall. cap. 2. queme. etiam ad Caesar. Com.  Hotoman, who presumes that the word 
* Greek.  Graecis in Caesar's text is crept in by ignorance of transcribers, as he well might, seeing those Commentaries, titled with name of I. Caesar, commonly published, & in divers Mss. with I Celsus, are very unperfect, now and then abrupt, different in stile, and so variable in their own form, that it hath been much feared by that great 
c Elect. 2. cap. 7. Epistolic quaest. 2 cap. 2.  Critic Lipsius, lest some more impolite hand hath sowed many patches of base cloth into that more rich web, as his own Metaphor expresses it. And if those Characters which are in the pillars at Y-Voellas in Denbighshire, are of the Druids, as some imagine (yet seeming very strange and uncouth) then might you more confidently coucurre in opinion with Hotoman. In sum, I know that Graecis literis may be taken as well for the language (as in 
d Hist. lib. 20. in extrema.  justin I remember, and elsewhere) as for the Character: but here I can never think it to be understood in any but the last sense, although you admit Caesar's copy to be therein not interpolated. It is very justifiable which the author here implies, by slighting Caesar's authority in British Originals, in respect that he never came further into the Isle than a little beyond Thames towards 
e Caesarem si legas, tibi ipsi satisfaci●●, verum & ita Leland. ad Cyg. Cant in Baln.  Berkshire; although some of Ours idly talk of his making the Bath, and being at Chestar, as the Scotish Historians most senselessly of their julis Hoff built by him, which others refer 
f Veremund. ap. Hect. B●●t. hist. 3.  to Vespasian, some affirm it a Temple 
g Buchanan. hist. 4. in Donaldo.  of God Terminus; whereas it seems expressly to be built by Carausius, in time of Dioclesian, if Nennius deceive us not. But, this out of my way.    

  

The eleventh Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
The Muse, her native earth to see,  
Returns to England over Dee;  
Visits stout Cheshire, and there shows  
To her and hers, what England owes;  
And of the Nymphets sporting there  
In Wyrrall, and in Delamere.  
Weever, the great devotion sings  
Of the religious Saxon Kings;  
Those Riverets doth together call,  
That into him, and Mersey fall;  
Thence bearing to the side of Peake,  
This zealous Canto off doth break.  
WIth as unwearied wings, and in as high a gate  
As when we first set forth, observing every state,  
The Muse from Cambria comes, with pinions summed and sound:  
And having put herself upon the English ground,  
First seizeth in her course the noblest Cestrian shore;  
§. Of our great English bloods as careful here of yore,  
As Cambria of her Brutes, now is, or could be then;  
For which, our proverb calls her, Cheshire, chief of men.  
§. And of our Countries, place of Palatine doth hold,  
And thereto hath her high Regalities enrolled:  
Besides, in many Fields since Conquering William came,  
Her people she hath proved, to her eternal fame.  
All, children of her own, the Leader and the Led,  
The mightiest men of bone, in her full bosom bred:  
And neither of them such as cold penurious need  
Spurs to each rash attempt; but such as sound feed,  
Clad in warm English cloth; and maimed should they return  
(Whom this false ruthless world else from their doors would spurn)  
Have livelihood of their own, their ages to sustain.  
Nor did the Tenants pay, the Landlords charge maintain:  
But as abroad in war, he spent of his estate;  
Returning to his home, his hospitable gate  
The richer and the poor stood open to receive.  
They, of all England, most to ancient customs cleave,  
Their Yeomanry and still endeavoured to uphold.  
For rightly whilst herself brave England was of old,  
And our courageous Kings us forth to conquests led,  
Our Armies in those times (near through the world so dread)  
Of our tall Yeomen were, and footmen for the most;  
Who (with their Bills, and Bows) may confidently boast,  
§. Our Leopards they so long and bravely did advance  
Above the Flower-delice, even in the heart of France.  

The general bounds of Cheshire.  O! thou thrice happy Shire, confined so to be  
Twixt two so famous Floods, as Mersey is, and Dee.  
Thy Dee upon the West from Wales doth thee divide:  
Thy Mersey on the North, from the Lancastrian side,  
Thy natural sister Shire; and linked unto thee so,  
That Lancashire along with Cheshire still doth go.  
As towards the Derbian Peake, and Moreland (which do draw  
More mountainous and wild) the high-crowned Shutlingslawe  
And Molcop be thy Mounds, with those proud hills whence rove  
The lovely sister Brooks, the silvery Dane and Dove;  
Clear Dove, that makes to Trent; the other to the West.  
But, in that famous Town, most happy of the rest  
(From which thou tak'st thy name) fair Chester, called of old  
§. Carelegion; whilst proud Rome her conquests here did hold  
Of those her legions known the faithful station then,  
So stoutly held to tack by those near North-wales men;  
Yet by her own right name had rather called be,  
§. As her the Britain termed, The Fortress upon Dee,  
Then vainly she would seem a Miracle to stand,  
Th'imaginary work of some huge Giant's hand:  
Which if such ever were, Tradition tells not who.  
But, back awhile my Muse: to Weever let us go,  
Which (with himself compared) each British flood doth scorn;  
His fountain and his fall, both Chesters rightly borne;  
The Country in his course, that clean through doth divide,  
Cut in two equal shares upon his either side:  
And, what the famous Flood far more than that enriches,  
The bracky Fountains are, those two renowned Wyches,  
The Nant-wyche, and the North; whose either brynie Well,  
For store and sorts of Salts, make Weever to excel.  
Besides their general use, not had by him in vain,  
§. But in himself thereby doth holiness retuine  
Above his fellow Floods: whose healthful virtues taught,  
Hath of the Sea-gods oft, caused Weever to be sought.  
For physic in their need: and Thetis oft hath seen,  
When by their wanton sports her Nereids have been  
So sick, that Glaucus' self hath failed in their cure:  
Yet Weever, by his Salts, recovery durst assure.  
And Amphitrite oft this Wizard River led  
Into her secret walks (the Depths profound and dread)  
Of him (supposed so wise) the hid events to know  
Of things that were to come, as things done long ago.  
In which he had been proved most exquisite to be;  
And bore his fame so far, that oft twixt him and Dee,  
Much strife there hath arose in their prophetic skill.  
But to conclude his praise, our Weever here doth will  
The Muse, his source to sing; as how his course he steres:  
Who from his natural Spring, as from his neighbouring Meres  
Sufficiently supplied, shoots forth his silver breast,  
As though he meant to take directly toward the East;  
Until at length it proves he loytreth, but to play  
Till Ashbrooke and the Lee o'ertake him on the way,  
Which to his journeys end him earnestly do haste●  
Till having got to Wyche, he taking there a taste  
Of her most savoury Salt, is by the sacred tuch,  
Forced faster in his course, his motion quickened much  
To North-wyche: and at last, as he approacheth near,  
Dane, Whelock draws, than Crock, from that black ominous Mere,  
Accounted one of those that England's wonders make;  
Of neighbours, Black-mere named, of strangers, Breretons-Lake;  
Whose property seems far from Reason's way to stand:  
For, near before his death that's owner of the Land,  
She sends up stocks of trees, that on the top do float;  
By which the world her first did for a wonder note.  
His handmaid Howty next, to Weever holds her race:  
When Peever with the help of Pickmere, make apace  
To put-in with those streams his sacred steps that tread,  
Into the mighty waste of Mersey him to lead.  
Where, when the Rivers meet, with all their stately train,  
Proud Mersey is so great in entering of the Main,  
As he would make a show for Empery to stand,  
And wrist the three-forkt Mace from out grim Neptune's hand;  
To Cheshire highly bound for that his watery store,  
As to the grosser 
* Meres, or standing Lakes.  Loughs on the Lancastrian shore.  
From hence he getteth Goyt down from her Peakish spring,  
And Bollen, that along doth nimbler Birkin bring  
From Maxfields' mighty wilds, of whose shagged Syluans she  
Hath in the Rocks been wooed, their Paramour to be:  
Who in the darksome holes, and Caverns kept her long,  
And that proud Forest made a party to her wrong.  
Yet could not all entreat the pretty Brook to stay;  
Which to her sister stream, sweet Bollen, creeps away.  
To whom, upon their road she pleasantly reports  
The many mirthful jests, and wanton woodish sports  
In Maxfield they have had; as of that forests fate:  
Until they come at length, where Mersey for more state  
Assuming brother banks, himself so proudly bears,  
That at his stern approach, extended Wyrrall fears,  
That (what betwixt his floods of Mersey, and the Dee)  
In very little time devoured he might be:  
Out of the foaming surge till ●ilbre lifts his head,  
To let the fore-land see how richly he had sped.  
Which Mersey cheers so much, that with a smile brow●  
He fawns on both those Floods; 
A poetical description of Wyrrall.  their amorous arms that throw  
About his goodly neck, and barred their swelling breasts:  
On which whilst lulled with ease, his pleased cheek he rests,  
The Naiads, sitting near upon the aged Rocks,  
Are busied with their combs, to brayed his verdant locks,  
Whilst in their crystal eyes he doth for Cupid's look:  
But Delamere from them his fancy quickly took,  
Who shows herself all dressed in most delicious flowers;  
And sitting like a Queen, sees from her shady Bowers  
The wanton Wood-Nymphs mixed with her light-footed Fawns,  
To lead the rural routs about the goodly Lands,  
As over 
a A wood growing on a hill or knoll.  Holt and Heath, as through 
b High wood.  Frith and 
c low coppis.  Fell;  
And oft at Barleybreak, and Prison-base, to tell  
(In carrolds as they course) each other all the joys,  
The passages, deceits, the sleights, the amorous toys  
The subtle Sea-Nymphs had, their Wyrralls love to win.  
But Weever now again to warn them doth begin  
To leave these trivial toys, which inly he did hate,  
That neither them beseemed, nor stood with his estate  
(Being one that gave himself industriously to know  
What Monuments our Kings erected long ago:  
To which, the Flood himself so wholly did apply,  
As though upon his skill, the rest should all rely)  
And bent himself to show, that yet the Britain's bold,  
Whom the laborious Muse so highly had extolled,  
Those later Saxon Kings excelled not in their deeds,  
And therefore with their praise thus zealously proceeds;  
Whilst, the celestial Powers th'arrived time attend  
When o'er this general I'll the Britain's reign should end,  
And for the spoiling Pict here prosperously had wrought,  
Into th'afflicted Land which strong invasion brought,  
And to that proud attempt, what yet his power might want,  
The ill-disposed heavens, Brutus' offspring to supplant,  
Their angry plagues downe-poured, insatiate in their waste  
(Needs must they fall, whom heaven doth to destruction haste.)  
And that which lastly came to consummate the rest,  
Those prouder Saxon pours (which liberally they priest  
Against th'invading Pict, of purpose hired in)  
From those which paid them wage, the Island soon did win;  
And sooner overspread, being Masters of the Field;  
Those, first for whom they fought, too impotent to wield,  
A Land within itself that had so great a Foe;  
And therefore thought it fit them wisely to bestow:  
Which over Severne here they in the Mountains shut,  
And some upon that point of Cornwall forth they put.  
Yet forced were they there their stations to defend.  
Nor could our men permit the Britain's to descend  
From jove or Mars alone; but brought their blood as high,  
§. From Woden, by which name they styled Mercury.  
Nor were the race of Brute, which ruled here before,  
More zealous to the Gods they brought unto this shore  
Then Hengists noble heirs; their Idols that to raise  
§. here put their Germane names upon our weekly days.  
These noble Saxons were a Nation hard and strong,  
On sundry Lands and Seas, in warfare nuzzled long;  
Affliction thoroughly knew; and in proud Fortune's spite,  
Even in the jaws of Death had dared her utmost might:  
Who under Hengist first, and Horsa, their brave Chiefs,  
From Germany arrived, 
See, concerning their coming, to the I. IU. and VIII. Songs.  and with the strong reliefs  
Of th' Angles and the l●tes, them ready to supply,  
Which anciently had been of their affinity,  
By Scythia first sent out, which could not give them meat,  
Were forced to seek a soil wherein themselves to seat.  
Them at the last on Dansk their lingering fortune drove,  
Where Holst unto their troops sufficient harbour gave.  
These with the Saxons went, and fortunately won:  
Whose Captain, Hengist, first a kingdom here began  
In Kent; where his great heirs, ere other Prince's rose  
Of Saxony's descent, their fullness to oppose,  
With swelling Humber's side their Empire did confine.  
And of the rest, not least renowned of their Line,  
§. Good Ethelbert of Kent, th'first christened English King,  
To preach the faith of Christ, was first did hither bring  
Wise Augustine the Monk, from holy Gregory sent.  
This most religious King, with most devout intent  
That mighty Fane to Paul, in London did erect,  
And privileges gave, this Temple to protect.  
His equal then in zeal, came Ercombert again,  
From that first christened King, the second in that reign.  
The gluttony then used severely to suppress,  
And make men fit to prayer (much hindered by excess)  
§. That abstinence from flesh for forty days began,  
Which by the name of Lent is known to every man.  
As mighty Hengist here, by force of Arms had done,  
§. So Ella coming in, soon from the Britaines won  
The Country's neighbouring Kent: which lying from the Main,  
Directly to the South did properly obtain  
The Southern Saxons name; and not the last thereby  
Amongst the other reigns which made the Heptarchy:  
So in the high descent of that South- Saxon King,  
We in the beadroule here of our religious bring  
Wise Ethelwald: alone who Christian not became,  
But willing that his folk should all receive the name,  
§. Saint Wilfrid (sent from York) into his Realm received  
(Whom the Northumbrian folk had of his See bereaved)  
And on the South of Thames, a seat did him afford,  
By whom that people first received the saving Word,  
As likewise from the loins of Erehinwin (who raised  
Th'East- Saxons kingdom first) brave Sebert may be praised:  
Which, as that King of Kent, had with such cost and state  
Built Paul's; his Greatness so (this King to imitate)  
Began the goodly Church of Westminster to rear:  
The Primer English Kings so truly zealous were.  
Then 
* Sebba, a Monk in Paul's.  Sebba of his seed, that did them all surpass,  
Who fitter for a shrine then for a sceptre was,  
(Above the power of flesh, his appetite to starve  
That his desired Christ he strictly might observe)  
Even in his height of life, in health, in body strong,  
Persuaded with his Queen, a Lady fair and young,  
To separate themselves, and in a sole estate,  
After religious sort themselves to dedicate.  
Whose Nephew Vffa next, inflamed with his high praise  
(Enriching that proud Fane his Grandsire first did raise)  
Abandoned the world he found so full of strife,  
And after lived in Rome a strict religious life.  
Nor these our Princes here, of that pure Saxon strain,  
Which took unto themselves each one their several reign,  
For their so godly deeds, deserved greater fame  
Than th' Angles their Allies, that hither with them came;  
Who sharing-out themselves a kingdom in the East,  
With th'eastern Angles name their circuit did invest,  
By Vffa in that part so happily begun:  
Whose successors the Crown for martyrdom have won  
From all before or since that ever suffered here;  
§. Redwald's religious sons: who for their Saviour dear,  
By cruel heathenish hands unmercifully slain,  
Amongst us evermore remembered shall remain,  
And in the roll of Saints must have a special room,  
Where Derwald to all times with Erpenwald shall come.  
When in that way they went, next Sebert them succeeds,  
Scarce seconded again for sanctimonious deeds:  
Who for a private life when he his rule resigned,  
And to his Cloister long had strictly him confined,  
A corselet for his cowl was glad again to take  
His Country to defend (for his religions sake)  
Against proud Penda, come with all his Pagan power,  
Those christened Angels then of purpose to devour:  
And suffering with his folk, by Penda's heathenish pride,  
As he a Saint had lived, a constant Martyr died.  
When, after it fell out, that Offa had not long  
Held that by cruel force, which Penda got by wrong,  
§. Adopting for his heir young Edmond, brought him in,  
Even at what time the Danes this Island sought to win:  
Who christened soon became, and as religious grown  
As those most heathenish were who set him on his throne,  
Did expiate in that place his predecessors guilt,  
Which so much Christian blood so cruelly had spilled.  
For, taken by the Danes, who did all tortures try,  
His Saviour jesus 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 martyred King, a Saint thus justly crowned.  
To whom even in that place, that Monument renowned  
Those afterages built to his eternal fame.  
What English hath not heard 
* In Suffolk.  Saint Edmond Buries name?  
As of those Angles here, so from their loins again,  
Whose hands hewed out their way to the West-Sexian reign  
(From Kenrick, or that claim from Cerdick to descend)  
A partnership in fame great Ina might pretend  
With any King since first the Saxons came to shore.  
Of all those christened here, who highlier did adore  
The Godhead, than that man? or more that did apply  
His power t'advance the Church in true sincerity?  
Great Glastenbury then so wondrously decayed,  
Whose old foundation first the ancient Britain's laid,  
He gloriously rebuilt, enriching it with plate,  
And many a sumptuous Cope, to uses consecrate:  
Ordaining godly laws for governing this Land,  
Of all the Saxon Kings the Solon he shall stand.  
From Otta 
Otta▪ brother to Hengist.  (borne with him who did this I'll invade)  
And had a conquest first of the Northumbrians made,  
And tributary long of mightier Hengist held,  
Till Ida (after borne) the Kentish power expelled,  
And absolutely sat on the Dierian seat,  
But afterward resigned to Ethelfrid the Great:  
An Army into Wales who for invasion led,  
At Chester and in fight their forces vanquished;  
Into their utter spoil, then public way to make,  
The long Religious house of goodly Bangor broke,  
§. And slew a thousand Monks, as they devoutly prayed.  
For which his cruel spoil upon the Christians made  
(Though with the just consent of Christian Saxons slain)  
His blood, the heathenish hands of Redwald did distain.  
That murderers issue next, this kingdom were exiled:  
And Edwin took the rule; a Prince as just and mild  
As th'other faithless were: nor could time ever bring  
In all the sevenfold rule an absoluter King▪  
And more t'advance the faith, his utmost power that lent:  
§. Who reordained York a Bishop's government;  
And so much loved the poor, that in the ways of trade,  
Where Fountains fitly were, he Iron dishes made,  
And fastened them with chains the wayfarer to ease,  
And the poor Pilgrim's thirst, there resting, to appease.  
As Mercia, 'mongst the rest, sought not the least to raise  
The saving Christian saith, nor merits humbler praise.  
§. Nor those that from the stem of Saxon Creda came  
(The Britain's who expulsed) were any whit in fame,  
For piety and zeal, behind the others best;  
Though heathenish Penda long and proudly did infest  
The christened neighbouring Kings, and forced them all to bow;  
Till Oswy made, to God, a most religious vow,  
Of his abundant grace would he be pleased to grant,  
That he this Panim Prince in battle might supplant,  
A Recluse he would give his daughter and delight,  
Sweet Alfled then in youth, and as the Morning, bright:  
And having his request, he gave as he obtained;  
Though his unnatural hands succeeding Wulpher stained  
In his own children's blood, whom their dear mother had  
§. Confirmed in Christ's belief, by that most reverent Chad:  
Yet to embrace the faith when after he began  
(For the unnatural'st deed that e'er was done by man)  
If possible it were to expiate his guilt,  
here many a goodly house to holy uses built:  
And she (to purge his crime on her dear children done)  
A crowned Queen, for him, became a vased Nun.  
What Age a godlier Prince than Etheldred could bring?  
Or then our Kindred here, a more religious King?  
Both taking them the cowl, th'one here his flesh did tame,  
The other went to Rome, and there a Monk became.  
So, Ethelbald may well be set the rest among:  
Who, though most vainly given when he was hot and young;  
Yet, by the wise reproof of godly Bishops brought  
From those vnstay'd delights by which his youth was caught,  
He all the former Kings of Mercia did exceed,  
§. And (through his Rule) the Church from taxes strongly freed.  
Then to the Eastern sea, in that deep watery Fen  
(Which seemed a thing so much impossible to men)  
He that great Abbey built of Crowland; as though he  
Would have no others work like his foundation be.  
As, Offa greater far than any him before:  
Whose conquests scarcely were sufficed with all the shore;  
But over into Wales adventurously he shot  
His Mercia's spacious 
a Offa's Ditch.  Mere, and Powsland to it got.  
This King, even in that place, where with rude heaps of stones  
§. The Britain's had interred their Proto-martyrs bones,  
That goodly Abbey built to Alban; as to show  
How much the sons of Brute should to the Saxons owe.  
But when by powerful heaven, it was decreed at last,  
That all those sevenfold Rules should into one be cast  
(Which quickly to a head by 
b 〈◊〉  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 persuade  
(As once it was of old) to Monarchize the Land.  
Who following their advice, first with a warlike hand  
The Cornish overcame; and thence, with prosperous sails,  
O'er Severne set his powers into the heart of Wales;  
And with the Mercians there, a bloody battle waged:  
Wherein he won their Rule; and with his wounds enraged,  
Went on against the rest. Which, sadly when they saw  
How those had sped before, with most subjective awe  
Submit them to his sword: who prosperously alone  
Reduced the sevenfold Rule, to his peculiar throne  
§. (Extirping other styles) and gave it England's name  
Of th' Angles, from whose race his nobler fathers came.  
When scarcely Egbert here an entire Rule began,  
But instantly the 
c See to the first Song.  Dane the Island overran;  
A people, that their own those Saxons paid again.  
For, as the Britain's first they treacherously had slain,  
This third upon their necks a heavier burden laid  
Then they had upon those whom falsely they betrayed.  
And for each others states, though oft they here did toil,  
§. A people from their first bend naturally to spoil,  
That cruelty with them from their beginning brought.  
Yet when the Christian faith in them had thoroughly wrought,  
Of any in the world no story shall us tell,  
Which did the Saxon race in pious deeds excel:  
That in these drowsy times should I in public bring  
Each great peculiar Act of every godly King,  
The world might stand amazed in this our Age to see  
Those goodly Fanes of theirs, which irreligious we  
Let every day decay; and yet we only live  
By the great Freedoms then those Kings to these did give.  
Wise Segbert (worthy praise) preparing us the seat  
§. Of famous Cambridge first, then with endowments great  
The Muses to maintain, those Sisters thither brought.  
By whose example, next, religious Alfred taught,  
Renowned Oxford built t' Apollo's learned brood;  
And on the hallowed bank of Isis' goodly Flood,  
Worthy the glorious Arts, did gorgeous Bowers provide.  
§. He into several Shires the kingdom did divide.  
So, valiant Edgar, first, most happily destroyed  
The multitudes of Wolves, that long the Land annoyed.  
And our good Edward here, the Confessor and King  
(Unto whose sumptuous Shrine our Monarch's offerings bring)  
That cankered Evil cured, bred twixt the throat and jaws.  
When Physic could not find the remedy nor cause,  
And much it did afflict his sickly people here,  
He of Almighty God obtained by earnest prayer,  
This Tumour by a King might cured be alone:  
§. Which he an heirloom left unto the English Throne.  
So, our Saint Edward here, for England's general use,  
§. Our Country's Common laws did faithfully produce,  
Both from th'old British writ, and from the Saxon tongue.  
Of Forests, Hills, and Floods, when now a mighty throng  
For Audience cried aloud; because they late had heard,  
That some high Cambrian hills the Wrekin proudly dared  
With words that very much had stirred his rancorous spleen.  
Where, though clear Severne set her Princely self between  
The English and the Welsh, yet could not make them cease.  
here, Weever, as a Flood affecting godly peace,  
His place of speech resigns; 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 conveniency of situation, imitating therein the ordinary course of Chorography, the first Shire Eastward (from Denbigh and Flint, last sung by the Muse) Chesshire, is here surveyed.  
Of our great English bloods as careful—  
For, as generally in these Northern parts of England, the Gentry is from ancient time left preserved in continuance of Name, Blood, and Place; so most particularly in this Cheshire, and the adjoining Lancashire: which, out of their numerous families, 
a Camden. in Cornan, & Brigar●.  of the same name, with their chief Houses and Lordships, hath 
b Stat. 14. Eliz. cap. 13.  been observed.  
And, of our Counties, Place of Palatine doth hold.  
We have in England III. more of that title, Lancaster, Durham, and Ely: and, until later 
c C. de Osfi●. Com. Sa●. Palat. v. Euseb. de vit. Constantin. ●. & Cod. lib. 12.  time, Hexamshire in the Western part of Northumberland, was so reputed. William the Conqueror, first created one Hugh Wolf a Norman, Count Palatine of Chester, and gave the Earldom to hold, as freely as the King held his Crown. By this supremacy of liberty he made to himself Barons, which might assist him in Counsel, and had their Courts and Con●sans of Pleas in such sort regarding the Earldom, as other Barons the Crown. 
* I Earl Hugh and my Barons have confirmed all this.  Ego Comes Hugo & mei Barones confirma●imus ista omnia, is subscribed to a Charter, whereby he founded the Monastery of S. Werburg there. For the Name of Palatine, know, that in ancient time under the Emperors of declining Rome, the title of Count Palatine was; but so, that it extended first only to him 
d In Paratit. C. 1 tit. 34.  which had care of the Household and Imperial revenue; which is now (so saith 
e Liure 1. des Comtes de Champagne & Brie.  Wesembech: I affirm it not) as the Marshal in other Courts: but was also communicated by that Honorary attribute of Comitiva Dignitas, to many others, which had any thing proportionat, place or desert, as the Code teacheth us. In later times both in Germany (as you see in the Palsgrane of Rhine) in France, (which the Earldom of Champagne shows long time since in the Crown; yet keeping a distinct Palatine Government, as Pe●ter P●●hou 
De Palatinorum nostrorum nomine Sarisbur. Policrat. 6. cap. 16. & Epist. 263.  hath at large published) and in this Kingdom such were hereditarily honoured with it, as being near the Prince in the Court (which they, as we, called the Palace) had by their State-carriage, gained full opinion of their worth, and ability in government, by delegat Power of territories to them committed, and here after titled Countess de Palais▪ as our Law annals call them. If you desire more particulars of the Power and great State of this Palatine Earldom, I had rather (for a special reason) send you to the marriage of Hen. III. and Q. Ellanor in Matthew Paris; where john Scot, than Earl of Chester bare, before the King, S Edward's Sword, called Curtain, which the Prince at Coronation of Henry IV. is recorded to have done as 
g Archiu. in Tur. land iam v●rò & typis commiss apud Crompt. Iurisdict. Cu●.  Duke of Lancaster; and wish you to examine the passges there, with what, Bracton 
h De acq. ver. d●m. cap. 16. §. 3.  hath of Earls, and our year 
i 6. Hen. 8. Kelaway & v. Brook. tit. Prerugat. 31.  books of the High Constable of England, then here offer it myself. To add the royalties of the earldom, as Courts, Officers, Franchises, forms of Proceeding, even as at Westminster, or the diminution of its large liberties by the Statute of 
k 27. Hen. 8. cap. 24.  Resumption, were to trouble you with a harsh digression.  
Our Leopards they so long and bravely did advance.  
He well calls the Coat of England, Leopards. Neither can you justly object the common blazon of it, by name of Lions, or that assertion of Polydores ignorance, 
A gross error of Polydore.  telling us that the Conqueror bore three Fleurs de lis, and three Lions, as quartered for one Coat, which hath been, & is as all men know, at this present born in our Sovereign's arms for France and England; and so, that t●e quartering of the Fleurs was not at all until Ed. III. to publish his title, and gain the Flemish forces (as you have it in Froissart) bore the French 
l V. Stat. 14. Ed. 3.  arms, being then Azure semi with Fleurs delis, and were afterward contracted to III. in time of Hen. V. by Charles VI because he would bear different from the English King, who notwithstanding presently seconded the change, to this hour continuing: Nor could that Italian have fallen into any error more palpable, and in a pro●est Antiquary so ridiculous. But to prove them anciently Leopards, 
* The Emperor sent to Hen. III. three Leopards, as alluding to the arms of England.  Misit ergo (saith Matthew 
m 19 Hen. 3.  Paris) Imperator (that is Frederique II.) Reg● Anglorum tres Leopardos in signum Regalis Clypei, in quo tres Leopardi transeuntes ●igurantur. In a M●. of I. Gowers Confessio Amantis, which the Printed books have not, 
Adlaud●m Christi, quem tu Virgo perperiste,  
Sit laus RICHARDI, quem sceptra colunt Leopardi.   
And Edward 
n Pat. 12. Ed. 4. part. 1 memb. 12.  IV. granted to Lewes of Bruges Earl of Winchester, that he should bear a Azure, a dix Mascles enarme d'un Canton de Nostre Proper arms d' Engleterre, Cestassavoir de Goules vng Leopard passant d'or, armed Azure, as the Patent speaks: and likewise 
o Pat 27. Hen. 6 num. 46.  Hen. VI to King's College in Cambridge, gave a Coat Armour, III. Roses, and Summ● scuti Partitum Principale de Azoreo cum Francorum flore deque Rubeo cum peditante Leopardo, and calls them Parcellae Armorum, quae nobis 〈◊〉 regnis Anglia & Francia iure debenturregio. I know it is otherwise now received, but withal, th● Princes, being supreme judges of Honour and Nobility, may arbitrarily change their Arms in name and Nature; as was done 
p Pont. Heuter. de Vet. Belgio. 2.  upon return out of the Holy war in Godfrey of Bolognes' time; and it seems it hath been taken indifferently, whether you call them the one or other, both for similitude of delineaments & composure (as in the Bearing of Normandy, the County of Zu●phen & such more) being blazoned in Hi●rom de Bara, & other French Heralds, Lion-Leopard; and for that even under this Hen. VI a great 
q Nichol. Vpton. de re Militari lib. 3.  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 marriage with Q. Elinor, divorced from Lewes of France) to be the first three Lions, Borne by the English Kings.  
Caerlegion whilst Proud Rome her conquests here did hold.  
You have largely in that our most learned Antiquary, the cause of this name from the Tents of Roman Legions, there, about Vespasians time. I will only note, that Leland 
r In Deus ad Cyg. Cant.  hath long since found fault with William of 
s De Pontificib. lib. 4.  Malmesbury for affirming it so called, 
* Because the old Soldiers of julius his legions resided there.  quod ibi Emerit● Legionum Iulianarum resedêre; whereas it is plain, that julius Caesar never came near this Territory. Perhaps, by julius, he meant Agricola (than Lieutenant here) so named, and then is, the imputation laid on that best of the Monks, 
Coniectura in Malmesburiensem.  unjust: to help it with reading Militarium for julianarum, as the Printed book pretends, I find not sufficiently warrantable, in respect that my Ms. very ancient, as near Malmesbury's time as (it seems) may be, and heretofore belonging to the Priory of S. Augustine's in Canterbury, evidently persuades the contrary.  
— the fortress upon Dee.  
At this day in British she is called 
t Humf. Lhuid in Breviario.  Cair Lheon are dour divy. i. the City of Legions upon the river Dee. Some vulgar Antiquaries have referred the name of Leon to a Giant builder of it: I, nor they, know nor who or when he lived. But indeed ridiculously they took 
* A great legion.  Leon Uaur for K. Leon the great; to whom the Author alludes presently.  
But in himself thereby doth Holiness retain.  
He compares it with Dee's title presently, which hath its reason given before to the VII. Song. Wever by reason of the salt-pits at Northwich, Nantwich, and Middlewich, (all on his bank●) hath this attribute, & that of the Sea-gods suit to him, and kind entertainment for his skill in physic, & prophecy; justifiable in general, as well as to make Tryphon their Surgeon which our excellent Spenser hath done; and in particular cause, upon the most respected and divinely honoured name of Salt; of which, if you observe it used in all sacrifices by express commandment 
a Levit. 2. comm. 13. & Num. 18.  of the true God, the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 
* Salt of the Covenant.  in holy writ, the religion of the Salt, set first, and last taken away as a symbol 
b Cael. Rhodigin. Antiq. Lect. 12. cap. 1. V. Plutarch Sympol. ●. cap. 10.  of perpetual friendship, that in Homer 
c Iliad. ●V. Lips. Saturnal. 1. cap. 2.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the title of 
* He sprinkled it with divine Salt.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 given it by Lycophron, and 
d In Cassandra.  passages of the Ocean's medicinable 
e Cael. Ant. Lect. 11. cap. 22.  Epithets because of his saltness, you shall see apparent and apt testimony.  
From Woden, by which name they styled Mercury.  
Of the Britons descent from jove, if you remember but Aeneas son to Anchises, and Venus, with her derivation of blood from jupiter's parents, sufficient declaration will offer itself. For this of Woden, see somewhat to the III. Song. 
* A Clenser.  To what you read there, I here more fitly add this: Woden, in Saxon Genealogies, is ascended to, as the chief Ancestor of their most Royal Progenies; so you may see in Nennius, Bede, Ethelwerd, Florence of Worcester, an Anonymus de Regali Prosapia, Huntingdon, and Hoveden, yet in such sort that in some of them they go beyond him, through Frithwald, Frealaf, Frithulf, Fin, Godulph, Geta, and others, to Seth; But with so much uncertainty, that I imagine many of their descents were just as true as the Theogonie in Hesiod, Appollodorus, or that of Prester john's, sometimes deriving 
d Damian. a Goes de morib. Aethorpum.  himself very near from the loins of Solomon. Of this Woden, beside my Authors named, special mention is found in Paul 
e De Longobard. 1. cap. 8.  Warnfred who makes Frea his wife (others call her Frieco, and by her understand Venus) and Adam 
f Hist. Ecclesiast. lib. 4. cap. 91.  of Breme, which describe him as Mars, but in Geffrey of Monmouth, & Florilegus, in Hengists own person, he is affirmed the same with Mercury, who by Tacitu: report was their chief Deity; 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 Mer●, allow it him not, then take the other first taught me by 
g Ad Tacit. Germ. not 32  Lipsius' fetching Wodan from Won or Win which is to Gain, and so make his name Wondan expressing in that sense the self 
h Lucian. in Timone.  name 
* Mercury precedent of Gain.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 used by the greeks. But without this inquiry you understand the Author.  
Here put the Germane names upon the Weekly days.  
Good Ethelbert of Kent first Christened English King.  
About the year DC. Christianity was received among the Saxons; this Ethelbert (being first induced to taste that happiness by Berta his Queen, a Christian, and daughter to Hilperic (or Lothar the II.) K. of France) was afterward baptised by Augustine a Monk sent hither, with other work men for such a harvest, by PP. Gregory the I. zealously being moved to conversion of the English nation: so that after the first coming of Hengist they had lived here C.L. years by the common account without tincture of true religion: nor did the Britons who had long before (as you see to the VIII. sung) received it, at all impart it by instruction, which Gildas imputes to them for merit of divine revenge. White 
e Hist. 7 not. 14.  of Basingstoke (I must cite his name, you would laugh at me, if I affirmed it) refers to Kent's Paganism, and British Christianity before this conversion, the original of our vulgar byword Nor in Christendom, Nor in Kent.  
That abstinence of Flesh for forty days began.  

DC.XL  Began it here, (so understand him; for plainly that fasting time was long before in other Churches, as appears in the Decreeing 
f Dist. 4. c. 4 statuimus & ibid. D. Ambrose.  Epistle of PP. Telesphorus, constituting that the Clergy should fast from Quinquagesima (that is, Shrove-sunday) to Easter, whereas the Laity, and they both were before bound but to VI weeks accounted, as now from the first Sunday in Lent; so that, even from the 
f Ita etiam Baronius; sed & vide Eusebij Chronic. in Sixto. 1.  first of Christianity, for remembrance of our Saviour, it seems, it hath been observed, although I know it hath been, referred to Telesphorus, as first author. He died in C.XL of Christ. But if you compare this of him with 
g Dist. 4. de Consecrat. c. 14. I●iunium.  that of PP. Melchiades (some C.LXX years after) taking aware the fast upon Sunday, and Thursday, you will lose therein forty days, and the common name of Quadragesi●●; but again find it thus. S. 
h In Homil. dist. 5. de. Consecrat. c. 16.  Gregory (after both these) makes Lent to be so kept, that yet no fasting be upon Sundays; because (among other reasons) he would have it as the Tenth of Time consecrated to God in Prayer and abstinence (and the Canonists, 
i Rebusf●ract. de decim quaest. 3. num. 31.  how justly I argue not, put it in their division of Personal tithes.) then, in this form, after the exception, calculates out his Number. From the first Sunday in Lent to Easter▪ are VI Weeks, that is, XLII. dates, whence VI Sundays subtracted, remain XXXVI. which (fractions avoided) is the quotient of CCC.LXV. being the number of the common year, divided by X. But seeing that holy number (as he calls it) of XL. which our Saviour honoured with his fasting, is by this reckoning excluded, he adds, to the first week, the four last days of the Quinquagesima that is Ash-wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday; so keeping both his conceit of Tithing, and also observation of that number, which we remember only (not able to imitate) in our assayed abstinence. For proof of this in Erconbert, both Bede and Malmesbury, beside their later followers, are witnesses. Their Saxon name near ours was 
k Canut. leg. 16  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, as the other Four Fasts 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
So Ella coming in soon from the Britons won.  
near XL. years after the Saxons first arrival, Aella (of the same nation) with his sons Pleucing, or Pleting, Cimen, and Cissa landed at Cimenshore in the now Sussex (it is supposed 
l Ex antiq. Charta Eccles. Selesens. ap. Camden.  to be near the wittering by Chichester) and having his forces increased by supply, after much blood shed twixt him and the Britons, and long siege of the City Andredceaster, now Newenden in Kent (as learned Camden conjectures) got supreme dominion of those Southern parts, with title of K. of Sussex, whose son and successor Cissa's name, is yet there left in 
* So is it called in Florent. Wigorn page 331. Kingdom of Sussex.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 for Chichester and in a Hill encircled with a deep trench for military defence, called Ciss-burie, by Offing●●●. The Author fitly begins with him after the Kentish; for he was the first that made the number of the Saxon Kings plural, by Planting & here reigning over the South Saxons: & as one was always in the Heptarchy, which had title of First, or chief King of the Angles and Saxons, so this Aella not only was honoured with 
m Ethelwerd. hist. 3. cap. 2. Bed. hist. 2. cap. 5.  it, but also the prerogative by priority of time, in first enjoying it, before all other Princes of his nation: But his dominion afterward was for the most part still under the Kentish, and West Saxon Kings.  
Saint Wilfrid sent from York into his realm received.  
This Wilfrid Archbish. of York expelled that See by Egfrid king of Northumberland, was kindly received by Edilwalch (otherwise Ethelwalch, being before Christened through religious persuasion of his Godfather Wulpher K. of Mercland) and converted the South Saxons to the Gospel. He endowed this Wilfrid with Selser a Cherronese in Sussex, and was so founder of a bishopric, afterward translated under the Norman Conqueror, to Chichester, whose Cathedral Church in public Monuments honours the name of Cedwalla (of whom see to the IX. Sung) K. of West Sex for her first Creator: but the reason of that was rather because Cedwalla after death of Edilwalch (whom he slew) so honoured Wilfrid, 
n Malmes b. de gest. Pontific. 3.  
* That he committed the supreme government of that Province to him  ut Magistrun & Dominun omni Provinciae eum praefecit, nihilin tota Provincia sine illius assensu faciendum arbitratus; whereupon it was, as it seems, thought fit (according to course of yielding with the sway of fortune) to forget Edilwalch, and acknowledge Cedwalla (than a Pagan) for first Patron of that Episcopal dignity. It is reported that III. years, before this general receipt there of Christ's profession, continued without rain; in so much that Famine, and her companion Pestilence, so vexed the Province, that in multitudes of XL. or L. at a time, 
Sussex men taught to catch Fish.  they used hand in hand, to end their miseries in the swallowing waves of their neighbouring Ocean: But, that all ceased upon Wilfrid's preaching; who taught them also first (if Henry of huntingdon's teaching deceive me not) to catch all manner of Fish, being before skilled only in taking of Eels. I know, 
a Matth. Westmonasterienses.  some make Eadbert Abbot of the Monastery in Selsey, under K. In●, first Bishop there, adding, that before his time the province was subject to Winchester; but that rightly understood discords not; that is, if you refer it to instauration of what was discontinued by Wilfrids' return to his Archbishoprique.  
Adopting for his heir young Edmund.—  
Penda K. of Mercland had slain Sigebert (or Sebert) and Anna Kings of Eastangles, and so in Dominion might be said to have possessed that kingdom; But Anna had divers successors of his blood, of whom, Ethelberth was traitorously slain in a plot dissembled by Offa K. of Mercland, and this part of the Heptarchy confounded in the Mercian Crown. Then did Offa adopt this S. Edmund a Saxon, into name of successor in that kingdom: which he had not long enjoyed but that through barbarous cruelty, chiefly of one Hinguar a Dane (Polydore will needs have hi● name Agner) he was with miserable torture martyred, 
DCCC.LXX.  upon the XIX. of November, whither his Canonization directeth us for holy memory of him.  
And slew a thousand Monks as they devoutly prayed.  
You may add CC. to the Author's 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, near the onset, he saw, with wonder, a multitude of Monks assembled, in a place by, somewhat secure; demanded the cause, and was soon informed that they were there ready to assist his enemy's swords with their devout Orisons, and had one called Brocmail, professing their defence from the English forces. The King no sooner heard this, but 
* If they pray to their God against us, then plainly they fight against us.  Ergo (saith he being a Heathen) siaduersus nos, ad Dominum suum clamant, profecto & ipsi quamuis arma non ferant, contra nos pugnant, qui adversis nos imprecationibus persecutur; presently commands their spoil: which so was performed by his Soldiers, that M.CC were in their devotions 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 Monastery, which was M.M.C. not such idle ●ubberly sots as later times pestered the world withal, truly pictured in that 
b Rob. de Langland sive joannes Maluerne Past. 5.  description of (their Character) Sloth. 
— With two slimy eyen  
I must ●t said the Segge, or else I must needs nap,  
I may not stand ne stoop, ne without mi stole kneel,  
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 belike, and his breast knoked  
And raskied, and rooted, and rut at the last;  
If I should dye by this day, melyste not to look,  
I can not perfectly my Pater nost, as the Priest it singeth  
But I can rhymes of Robin Hod, and Randall of Chester,  
But of our Lord or our Lady I learn nothing at all.  
I am occupied every day, holy day and other  
With idle tales at the Ale, and other while in Churches.  
God's pain and his passion full seld think I thereon  
I visited never feblemen, ne fettered folk in pits,  
I have liefer here an Harlotry, or a summer's game,  
Or leasings to laugh at and bilye my neighbours,  
Then all that ever Mark made, Math, john and Lucas.  
And Uigiles and fasting days all these let I pass  
And lie in bed in Lent, and mi Leman in mine arms.  
I have been Priest and Parson passing thirty winter  
Yet can I nether Sol fe ne sing, ne Saints lives read  
But I can find in a field, or in a furlong an hare  
Better than in Beatus Vir, Or in Beati Omnes.  Not such were those Bangor Monks: but they 
* All lived of handy labour.  Omnes de labour manuum suarum vivere solebant. Observe here the difference twixt the more ancient times and our corrupted neighbour ages, which have been so branded, and not unjustly, with dissembled bestial sensualities of Monastique profession, that in the universal visitation under Hen. VIII. every Monastery afforded shameful discovery of Sodomites and Incontinent Friars; in Canterbury Priory of Benedictius IX. Sodomites; in Battle Abbey XV. and, in many other, like proportion; larger reckoning will not satisfy if you accounted their Wenches, which married and single (for they affected that variety) supplied the wants of their counterfeited solitariness, so that, hereupon, after an account of DC. Covents of Monks and Friars, with Mendicants, in this kingdom, when time endured them, 
* I leave it to the Reader to guess, how many Bastards the Monks and Friars got for the Laity.  I● laisseray, saith 
c H. Stephen en l'Entroduct. au traite de la conformite etc. 1. chap. 21.  one, maintenant au Lecteur calculer combien pur le moins denoint estre de fils de Putains on Angletere, ie di seulement fils de Moines & de Putaines. These were they who admired all for Hebrew or Greek which they understood not, and had at least (as many of our now professing Formalists) Latin enough to make such a speech as Rabelais hath to Gargantua for Paris Bells, and call for their Vinum Cos; which, in one of them personated, receive thus from a Noble 
d jan. Donz. satire 5.  Poet. 
Fac Extrà: nihil hoc: extràtotum sit oportet,  
Sobriè. ●. justè atque piè potare jubet Lex.  
Vinum laerificat 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 grossly errs in affirming that this Bangor 
e In hist. & lib. 4. de Pontificib. in Dorcecestrensibus.  is turned into a bishopric; but pardon him, for he lived in his Cloister & perhaps was deceived by Equivocation of Name, there being in Carenaruan a bishopric of the same title to this day, which some body later 
f Aut lib. Academ. per Europe. edit. 1590.  hath on the other side ill taken for this.  
Who reordained York a Bishop's government.  
For in the British times it had a Metropolitique See (as is noted to the IX. Sung) and now by Edwine (converted to Christian discipline both through means of his Wife Ethelburg, daughter to Ethelbert K. of Kent, and religious persuasion of God's Ministers) was restored to the former Dignity, & Paulinus, in it, honoured with name of Archbishop being afterwards banished that Province, and made Bishop of Rochester, which, some have ignorantly made him before.  
Nor those that in the stem of Saxon Crida came.  
Most of our Chronologers begin the Mercian race royal with Penda; But Henry of Huntingdon (not without his proofs and followers) makes Crida (Grandfather to Penda) first in that kingdom.  
Confirmed in Christ's belief by that most reverend Chad.  
This Wulpher, son to Penda▪ restored to his Father's kingdom, is 
o Robert de Swapl● in Hist. Petroburgens. ap. Camd. in Stafford, & Northampton. & I Stou sum.  reported with his own hands to have slain his two sons Wulphald and Rusin, for that they privily withdrew themselves to that famous S. Chad, or Cedd● Bishop of Lichfield, for instruction in the Christian faith; and all this is supposed to be done where the now Stone in Staffordshire is seated. Hereupon the Author relies. But, the credit of it is more than suspicious, not only for that in Classic authority I find his issue only to be Kenred, and S. Werburge (by Ermengild daughter to Erconbert of Kent) but withal that he was both Christian, and a great Benefactor to the Church. For it appears by consent of all, that Peada, Weda, or Penda (all these names he hath) eldest son of the first Penda, first received in Middle Engle (part of Mercland) the faith, and was baptized by Finnan Bishop of 
* It is that now called Holy Island, by East the utmost ● arts of Northumberland, whence the bishopric about DCCCCXCV. was transferred to Durham. DC. LX.  Lindisfarne: after whose violent death, in spite of Oswy King of Northumberland, Immin, Ebba, and Edberth, Gentlemen of Power in Mercland saluted Wulpher (Brother to Peada) King of all that Province, who was then, as it seems, (by Florence of Worcester, and Bedes reporting of IV. Bishops in succession preferred by him) of Christian name; But howsoever he was at that time, it is certain that in the II. or III. years of his reign, he was Godfather to K. Edilwalch of Sussex, and bestowed on him as a gift, in token of that spiritual adoption, the▪ Isle of Wight with an other territory in West Saxony, and gave also to S. Cedda (made, by consent of him and K. Oswy, Bishop of Lindisfarne) L. Hides of land (a Hide, 
* Ita. n. apud Matth. Paris, Huntingdom. Th. Walsingham. docemur, licet alij 100 Acris alij a iter definiunt, Caterùm quod me maxim movet & absquehasitatione in hanc sententiam pedibuo ire cogit, en ribrex Dunstam Chattà (An DCCCC. LXIII) qua Terrae partem concedit leptem Aratroru quod Angice dicitur leptem Hidas. Nec immomorem hîc te vellem vocabull illius apud l. C. tos nostros, Hide & Gain; quod Aruum restib●le interpretars haùt ignorat Dupondius quispiam.  a plough land, or a Carve, I hold clearly equivalent) towards foundation of a Monastery. All this compared, and his life, in our Monks, observed, hardly endures this note of persecution; which in respect of his foundership of Peeterborough Abbey, Robert of Swapham a Monk there reporting it, or those from whom he had it, might better in silence have buried it, or rather not so ungratefully feigned it. I only find one thing notably ill of him; that he, first of the English Kings, by Simony made a Bishop which was Wine of London, as Malmesbury is Author.  
And (through his Rule) the Church from taxes strongly freed.  
Ethelbald K. of Mercland, Founder of Crowland Abbey in Lincolnshire, a great, Martial, and religious Prince, in a Synod held Cuthbert then Archbishop of Canterbury (enlarged) Ecclesiastic liberty in this form, Donationem meam, me vivente concedo, ut omnia Monasteria & Ecclesia Regnimei à publicis Vectigalibus, Operibus, & Oneribus absoluantur, nisi Instructionibus Arcium vel Pontium, quae nunquam ulli possunt relaxari i. He discharged all Monasteries and Churches of all kind of taxes, works, and imposts, excepting such as were for building of Forts, and Bridges; being (as it seems the law was then) not Releasable. For, beside the authority of this statut of Ethelbald, it appears frequent in Charters of the Saxou times, that, upon Endowment, and Donations, to Churches with largest words of exemption, and liberty from all secular charges, the conclusion of the Habendum, was, 
* Excepting those three, Aid in war, mending of Bridges, and Forts. V. Charted huiusmodi apud D Ed. Coq. in Epist. ad lib. 6.  Exceptis ist is tribus, Expeditione, Pontis Arcísue Constructione, which among common Notaries, or Scriveners, was so well known, that they called it by one general name, 
* A three knotted necessity. DC.LXXX.  Trinoda Necessit as, as out of Cedwalla's Charter, to Wilfrid, first Bishop of Selsey, of the Manor of Pagenham (now Pagham) in Sussex, I have seen transcribed; whereupon in a Deliberative (concerning Papal exactions, and subjection of Church-living) held under Hen. 
a Math. Paris pag. 838.  III. after examination of Ancient King's indulgence to the Clergy, it was found, that; 
* They always reserved those that so they might the better be furnished against the enemiesinuasion.  Non ad●ò libertati dederunt huiusmode possessiones, quin Tria sibi reseruarent semper propter publicam regniutiltatem, videlicet, Expeditionem Pontis, & Arcis reparationes, velrefectiones, ut per earesisterent. Hostium incursionibus; although by words of a statute of Ethelulph King of West-Saxons in the year DCCC.LV. made by advise both of Laity, and Spirituality, the Church was quitted also of those three Commonwealth causes of Subsidy, but enjoyed it not; For even the 
b Gregor. decret. tit. de Imm. Eccles. c pervenit. 2.  Canons themselves subject their Possessions to these services and duties, and upon interpretation of a Charter made by Henry Beanclerc, Founder of the Priory of S. Oswald in Yorkshire, containing words of immunity and liberty of Tenure, as general & effectual as might be, a great Lawyer 
c Knivet 44. Ed. 3. fol. 25. a.  long since affirmed that yet the House was not freed of repairing Bridges and Causies. But all lands, as well in hands of Clerks as Lay, were subjecteth to particular tenors after the Conquest: and so these kind of charges and discharges being made rather feodall (as 
d De Acquir. rer. Dom. 2. cap. 16 §. 8. Ingulphus Emendatus.  Bracton calls them) then personal, use of them in Charters consequently ceased. I note here to Students of Antiquity, that, where the printed Engulf says this was done by Ethelbald in the III. year of his reign, they must with correction make it the XXXIII. as is, without scruple, apparent in the date of 
e Malmesh. lib. de gest. Pontis. 1.  thesynod which was DCC.XLV. of our Saviour.  
The Britons had interred their Proto-martyrs bones.  
In that universal persecution under Dioclesian, and Herculius, this Isle gave, 
See the Author in the XVI. Song. DCC.LX. ●●t circiter.  in S. Alban, testimony of Christian profession; even to his last breath 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 Werlamcester (i. the old Verulam) where, by, the Abbey, of S. Albon, was afterward erected.  
(Extirping other styles) and gave it 
* A. Circa DCCC.  England's name.  
Look back to the last note on the I. Song. Thus, as you see, hath the Muse compendiously run through the Heptarchy, and united it in name and Empire under Egbert K. of West Saxons: afterwhom, none, but his successors, had absolute power in their kingdoms, as course of story shows you. Likely enough I imagine, 
See the XVI. Song.  that, as yet, expectation of the Reader is not satisfied in these VII. Kingdoms, their beginnings, territory, and first Christianity: therefore as a Corollary receive this for the eyes more facile instruction.  
 Began in First received Faith in 

Comprohended in  
I. Kent the now Kent.  


II. South Sex  
Sussex.  
Surrey.    



I follow here the ordinary Chronologie of our Monks.  III. Westsex  
Cornwall.  
Devonshire.  
Dorset.  
Somerset.  
Wilton.  
Southampton.  
Berkshore.    


IV. Northumberland.  
Lancaster.  
York.  
Durham.  
Westmoreland.  
Northumberland,  
and the neighbouring territory, to Edinburgh Frith; whither from Tine was the name of Bernieland, & what lay on this side Tine, called D●irland.    


V. Estsex  
Essex.  
Midlesex.  
Part of Hereford.    


VI Estangle  
Norfolk.  
Suffolk.  
Cambridgeshire.  
Part of Ely.    


VII. Mercland.  
Gloucester.  
Hereford.  
Worcester.  
Warwick  
Leicester.  
Rutland.  
Northampton.  
Lincoln.  
Huntingdon.  
B●dford.  
Buchingham.  
Oxford.  
Stafford.  
Derbie.  
Salop.  
Nottingham.  
Chester.  
The Northern part of Hereford. But in these the Inhabitat of them Inlands were called Middle-Engles, and the Mercians divided into names of their local quarters.     I. Hengist C.D. LVI. from whose son Oise the succeeding Kings were called Oiscings I Ethelbert, D. XCVII. of Augustine from Gregory I II. In Aella about CD. XCI. II. Edilwatch DC. LXI. and the whole Country converted by Wilfrid DC. LXXIX. III. Cersie, D. XIX. whose Grandfather was Gewise, & thence his people & Posterity called Gewises. Kinegils' DC. XXXV. baptised by Birin first Bishop of Dorchester in Oxfordshire. IV. Ida D.XLVII. taking all Bernieland, as Aella XII. year after began in Deirland; but both kingdoms; soon were confounded in one. Edwin DC.XXVI. Christened by Paulin first Archbishop (in the Saxon times) of York. V. Sleda after some (others say in Erchinwin before him) about D. LXXX. both uncertain, and their successors. Sebert D C.IU dipped in holy tincture by Mellitus, first Bishop of London. VI Redwald about DC. But some talk of one Vuffa (whence these Kings were called Vuffing) to be Author of it near XXX. years before. Eorpwald DC. XXXII. although Redwald were Christened, for he soon fell to Apostasy, by persuasion of his wife, and in the same Chapel made one altar to Christ, another to the Devil. VII. In Penda DC. XXVI. Others will in Crida, some XL. before. Peada K. of MidleEngle * DC.LIII. baptised by Finna bishop of Lindisfarne, but enlarged the profession of it in Vulpher next K. there.  
Perhaps as good authority may be given against some of my proposed Chronologie, as I can justify myself with. But although so, yet I am therefore freed of error, because out old Monks exceedingly in this kind corrupted, or deficient, astoord nothing able to reclifie. I know the Eastangles, by both ancient and later authority, begin above C. years before; but if with Synchronisme you examine it, it will be found most absurd. For, seeing it is affirmed expressly, that Redwald was slain by Ethelfrid K. of Northumberland, and being plain by 
b Eccles. hist 2. cap. 9 vb legendum ex●entesimo vice 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 quingentesimo.  Bede (take his Story together, & rely not upon Syllables & false printed copies) that it must needs be near DC. (for Edwin succeeded Ethelfrid) and that, Vffa was some XXX. years before: what calculation will cast this into less than D. years after Christ? Forget not (if you desire accurate times) my admonition to the IV. Song, of the XXII. years error upon the Dionysian account, especially in the beginning of the Kingdoms, because they are for the most part reckoned in Old Monks from the coming of the Saxons. Where you find different names from these, attribute it to misreading old copies, by such as have 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 successively came under the Westsaxon rule. I must not tell you, unless I should untimely put on the person of an Historian. Our common Annals manifest it. But know here, that although seven were, yet but five had any long continuance of their supremacies: 
The Saxons though in sher power (though thii were so rive)  
Seve kingdoms made in Engelonde and 
* Afterward.  such but vive,  
The King of Northomberlond, and of Eastangle also  
Of Kent and of Westsex, and of the March ther to.  as Robert of Gloucester, according to truth of Story hath it; for Estsex & Southsex were not long after their beginnings (as it were) annexed to their Ruling neighbour Princes.  
A Nation from their first bend naturally to spoil.  
Indeed so were universally the Germans (out of whom our Saxons) as Tacitus relates to us; 
* You could not so easily-perswade them to husbandry, as to Martial conflict; Nor thought they it better then slothful, to get that by s●eat, which they might have by blood.  Nec arare terram aut exspectare annum tam facile persuaseris, quam vocare hosts & vulnera 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 receiving the Eastangle Crown, assisted by Foelix a Burgognone, and first Bishop of Dunwich (then called Dunmoe) in Suffolk; desiring to imitate what he had seen observable in France, for the common good, 
* Instituted a School for children.  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 general, Cambridge being in Eastangle, hath been taken for this School, and the School for the University. I will believe it (in so much as makes it then a University) not much sooner than that (I know not what) Gurguntius with Cantaber, some CL. years before Christ, founded it; or, those Chatters of K. Arthur, Bulls of Pope Honorius and Sergius sent thither; Anaximander or Anaxagoras their studies there, with more such pretended & absurd unlikelihoods; unless every Grammar School be an University, as this was, where children were taught by 
To Schoolmasters, according to the fashion at Canterbury.  Paedagogi & Magistri iux●a M●rem Cantuariorum, as Bede hath expressly: which so makes Canterbury an University also. But neither is there any touch in authentic and ancient story, which justifies th●se Schools instituted at Cambridge, but generally somewhere in Eastangle. Reasons of inducement are framed in multitudes on both sides. But, for my own part, I never saw any sufficiently probable, and therefore most of all rely upon what authorities are afforded. Among them I ever preferred the Appendix to the Story of Crowland▪ supposed done by Peter of Blois, affirming that under Hen. I (he lived very near the same time: therefore believe him in a matter not subject to causes of Historians temporising) joffred Abbot of Crowland, with one Gilbert his Commoigne, and III. other Monks came to his Manor of Cotenham, as they used of times, to read; and thence daily going to Cambridge, 
* Hired a barn to read in, and so continued, till the number of their Scholars exceeded the content ●● that, or any Church.  Conducto, quodam horreo publico suas scientias palàm profitentes, in breus temporis excursu, grandem discipulorum numerum contraxerunt. Anno verò secundo adventus illorum, tantum accrenit discipulorum numerus, tam ex tota patria, quam ex oppido, quòd quaelibet domus maxima, horreum, nec ulla ecclesia sufficeret eorum receptaculo; and so goes on with an ensuing frequency of Schools. I● before this there were an University, I imagine that in it was not professed Aristotl's Ethiques, which tell us * 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: for, then would they not have permitted learned Readers of the sciences (whom all that hated not the Muses could not but love) to be compelled into a Barn, in steed of Schools. Nor is it tolerable in conceit, that for near D. years (which interceded twixt this, and Sigebert) no fitter place of profession should be erected. To this time others have referred, the beginning of that famous Seminary of good literature: and, if room be left for me, I offer subscription; but always under reformation of that most honoured Tutresses Pupils, which shall (omitting fabulous trash) judiciously instruct otherwise. But the Author here out of Polydore, Leland, and others of later time relying upon conjecture, hath his warrant of better credit than Cantilup, an other relater of that Arcadian Original, which some have so violently patronized.  
Renowned Oxford built t' Apollo's learned brood.  
So is it affirmed (of that learned K. yet knowing not a letter until he was past XII.) by Polydore, Bale, and others; grounding themselves upon what Alfreds beneficence and most deserving care hath manifested in Royal Provision for that sacred Nourice of Learning. But justly it may be doubted, lest they took instauration of what was deficient, for institution: for although you grant that he first founded University College; yet it follows not, but there might be common Schools, & Colleges, 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 believe: but without scruple you cannot but credit that of a Monk 
g Asser. Meneuen●. de g●st. Alfred.  of S. ● Dewi's (made Grammar and Rhetoric Reader there by K. Alfred) in these words, of the year DCCC.LXXXVI. 
h A great controversy grew twixt those new Scholars which Alfred brought thither, & those which of ancient time were there before, etc.  Exorta est pessima ac teterrima Ox●niae discordia inter Grimboldum (this was a great and devout Scholar, whose aid Alfred used in his disposition of Lectures) doctissimósque illos viros secum illuc adduxit, & veteres illos scholasticos quos ibidem invenisset: qui ei● adventu, leges, modos, ac praelegendi formulas ab eodem Grimboldo institutas, omni ex part amplecti recusabant. And a little after, Quinetiam probabant & oftendebant idque indubitatò veterum annalium testimonio illius loci Ordines ac Instituta, à nonnulis pijs & eruditis hominibus, fuisse sancita, ut à Gildâ, (Melkino he was a great Mathematician, and as Gildas also, lived between D. and DC.) Nenni● (the Printed book hath falsely Nemrio) Kentigerno (he lived about D. LX.) & allies, qui omnes literis illic consenuerunt, omnia ibid. foelic● pace & concordia administrantes; and affirmed also that Letters had there been happily professed in very ancient time, with frequency of Scholars, until eruptions 
i About Alfreds time before his instautation a Grammarian was not found in his Kingdom to teach him Florent. Wigorn. pag. 309.  of pagan (they meant D●no●) had brought them to this lately restored deficiency. After this testimony, greater than all exception, what can be more plain, than Noble worth & Fame of this Pill●r 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 Ioann. a Bosco Parisiensis in Bibliothec. Floriacens. vit. Gild. cap. 6.  man) it is printed, hat he studied at Iren, which clearly he took for a place in this Land, it should be Ichen (& I confess, before me one hath well published the conjecture) for Ryd-Ichin the Welsh name of that City, expressing as much as Oxenford, Yet I would not willingly fall into the extremes of making it Memprikes, as some do; that were but vain affectation to dote on my Reverend Mother. But because in those remote ages, not only Universities and Public Schools (being 
b Bri. Tuin Apolog. Oxon. 2 §. 84  for a time prohibited by P P. Gregory for fear of breeding Pelagians & Arrians) but divers Monasteries & Cloisters were great Auditories of learning as appears in Theodor & Adrian's Professing at Canterbury, 
c Leland ad C●g. Cant. in Granta.  Maldulph and Aldelm at Malmesbury (this Aldelm first taught the English to writè Latin Prose & Verse) Alcuin at York, 
d Camd in Wiltoniâ.  Bede at Iarrow, & such other more I guess that hence came much obscurity to their name, omitted or suppressed by envious Monks of those times▪ then whose traditions descending through many hands of their like, we have no credible authorities. But which soever of these two sisters have prerogative of Primogeniture (a matter too much controverted twixt them) None can give them less attribute, then to be two Radiant Eyes six in this Island, as the beauteous face of the earth's Body: To what Others have by industrious search communicated, I add concerning Oxford out of an 
c Constitutiones Fratrum. cap de Studijs & Magist, Student.  ancient Ms. (but since the Clementines) what I there read: 
* At Mompelier, Paris, Oxford, Cologne. Bologna we institute general Studies.  Apud Montem Pessulanum, parisio's, Oxoniam, Colonias, Boloniam, generalia studia ordinamus. Ad que Prior Provincialis quilibet possit mittere duos fratres qui habeant Studentium libertatem; And also admonish the Reader of an imposture thrust into the world this last Autumn Martin a Provincial Catalogue of Bishopriques, by a Professed Antiquary 
d Aubert. Mirae ●. in Notit. Episcopat edit. Parisijs 1610.  & Popish Canon of Antwerp, telling us; that the Ms. Copy of it, found in S. Victor's Library at Paris, was written D. years since, & in the number of Canterbury Province, it hath Oxford; which being written Oxoniensis, I imagined might have been mistaken for Exoniensis (as Exonia for Oxonia sometimes) until I saw Exoniensis joined also; by which stood * Petroburgensis, which bruised all the credit of the monument, but especially of him that published it. For, who knows not that Peeterborough was no bishopric till Hen. VIII? nor indeed was Oxford, which might be easily thought much otherwise, by incidence of an ignorant eye on that vainly promising title, I abstain from expatiating in matter of our Muse's seats so largely, & too largely treated of by others.  
And into several Shires the Kingdom did divide.  
To those Shires he 
e Histor. Crowlandensis.  constituted justices & Sheriffs, called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 & 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, the office of those two being before confounded in Vice-Domini. i Lieutenants; but so, that Vicedominus & Vicecomes remained indifferent words for name of Sheriff, as, in a Charter of K. Edred DCCCC. L. Ego Bingulph Vice domin ● Consului ✚▪ Ego Alfer Vicecomes audivi ✚. I find together subscribed. The justices were, as I think, no other than those whom they called 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 man numb, being the same with 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, now Earls, in whole disposition & government upon delegation from the King (the title being Officiary, not Hereditary, except in some particular Shire, as 
* V ad Cant. XIII.  Leicester, etc.) the County was; with the Bishop of the Diocese: the Earl 
f Edgar. leg. Human. cap. 5. Edward. cap. 11. Canut cap 17.  sat in the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 twice every year, where, charge was given touching 
g Rot Chart. 2. Rich. 2. pro Decan. & capit. Lincoln, transcripsimus in jano Anglorum lib. 2. §. 14 & videas apud ●ex. hist. eccles. 4.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉: But by the 
h God's right and the worlds.  Conqueror, this meddling of the Bishop, in Turns was prohibited. The Sheriff had then his Monthly Court also, as the now County Court, instituted by the Saxon Ed. I. as that other of the Turn by K. Edgar. The Sheriff is now immediate officer to the King's Court, but it seems that then the Earl (having always the third part of the shires profits, both 
* See to the XIII. Song.  before and since the Normans) had charge upon him. For this division of Countries: how many he made, I know not, but Malmesbury, under Etbehed, affirms, there were XXXII. (Robert of Gloucester XXXV.) about which time Winchelcomb was one, 
i Code● Wigorniensis apud Cam in Dobu●●●.  but then joined to Glocestershire▪ those XXXII. 
k Polychronicon lib. 1. cap. de Proni●●●s.  were 

Kent, IX. Governed by the Westsaxon law. Essex,  
Sussex, IX. Governed by the Westsaxon law. Middlesex.  
Surrey, IX. Governed by the Westsaxon law. Suffolk,  
Hantshire, IX. Governed by the Westsaxon law. Norfolk,  
Berkshire, IX. Governed by the Westsaxon law. Hertford,  
Wiltshire, IX. Governed by the Westsaxon law. Cambridge,  
Somerset, IX. Governed by the Westsaxon law. Bedford,  
Dorset, IX. Governed by the Westsaxon law. Buckingham,  
Denonshire, IX. Governed by the Westsaxon law.  
Huntingdon, XV. by the Danish law. Oxford, VIII. by the Mercian Law.  
Northam●●n, XV. by the Danish law. Warwick, VIII. by the Mercian Law.  
Leicester, XV. by the Danish law. Gloucester, VIII. by the Mercian Law.  
Derby, XV. by the Danish law. Hereford, VIII. by the Mercian Law.  
Nottingham, XV. by the Danish law. Shro●shire, VIII. by the Mercian Law.  
Lincoln. XV. by the Danish law. Stafferd, VIII. by the Mercian Law.  
York●. XV. by the Danish law. Cheshire, VIII. by the Mercian Law.  
XV. by the Danish law. Worcester, VIII. by the Mercian Law.    
Here was none of Cornwall, Cumberland (styled also Carlileshire) Northumberland, Lancaster, Westmoreland (which was since titled Aplebyshire) Durham, Monmouth, nor Rutland, which at this day make our number (beside the XII. in Wales) XL. Cornwall (because of the Britons there planted) until the Conqueror gave the County to his brother Robert of Moreton, continued out of the division. Cumberland, Northumberland, Westmoreland, and Durham, being all Northern, seem to have been then under Scottish or Danish power. But the two first received their division, as it seems before the Conquest; for Cumberland had its particular 
l Matth. West. fol. 366.  governors and Northumberland 
m Ingulph. hist. Crowland.  Earls: Westmoreland perhaps began when K. john gave it Robert Vipont, ancestor to the Cliffords, holding by that Patent to this day the inheritance of the sheriffdom. Durham religiously was with large immunities given to the Bishop, since the Norman invasion. Lancaster, until Hen. III. created his younger son Edmund crook-back Earl of it, I think, was no County: for, in one of our old year 
n Thorp. 17. Ed. 3 sol. 56. b.  books a learned judge affirms, that, in this Henry's time, was the first Sheriffs Turn held there. Nor until Edward (first son to Edmund of Langley D. of York, and afterward D. of Anmerle) created by Rich. II. had Rutland any Earls. I know for number and time of those, all authority agrees not with me; but I conjecture only upon selected. As Alured divided the Shires first; so to him is owing the constitution of Hundreds, Tithings, Laths, & Wapentakes, to the end that whosoever were not lawfully, upon credit of his boroughs i. pledges, admitted in some of them for a good Subject, should be reckoned as suspicious of life and loyalty. Some steps thereof remain in our 
o Bract. lib. 3. tract. de Corona cap. 10 Quamplurimi ●as●●●n a●●is Ed. 3. & 5. jacob. apud Dem. Ed. Cok. lib. 6. sol. 77. maximè verò hù● faciunt Itinera illa H. 3. &. Ed. 1.  ancient & later Law books.  
Which he an heirloom left unto the English throne.  
The first healing of the King's Evil is referred to this Edward 
p Po●yder. hist. 8.  the Confessor: and, of a particular example in his curing a young married woman, an old 
q Eilred. Rhinallens. ap. Took in Charismat. Sanat. cap. 6.  monument 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 Dr. Tookers Charisma Sanationis.  
Our Country's common laws did faithfully produce.  
In Lambards' Archaonomy and Roger of Hovedens, Hen. II. are laws under name of the Confessor and Conqueror joined, and deduced for the most part out of their predecessors; but those of the Confessor seem to be the same, if Malmesbury 
r De gest. Reg. 2. cap. 11.  deceive not, which K. Cnu● collected, of whom his words are, 
* He commanded all laws made by the ancient Kings to be kept, especially those of Ethelred, to which the Kings swear under name of K. Edward's laws, not that he made them, but observed them.  Omnes leges ab antiquis regibus & maximà antecessore suo Ethelredo latas, sub interminatione Regiae mulcta, perpetuis temmporibus obseruaripraecepit, in quarum custodian etiam nunc tempore Bonorum sub nomine Regis Edward● iuratur, non quod ille Statuerit, sed quod obseruauerit: & under this name have they been humbly desired by the subject, granted with qualification, and controverted, as a main & first part of liberty, in the next age, following the Norman Conquest.    

The twelfth Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
The Muse, that part of Shropshire plies  
Which on the East of Severne lies:  
Where mighty Wrekin from his height,  
In the proud Cambrian mountains spite,  
Sings those great Saxons ruling here,  
Which the most famous warriors were.  
And as she in her course proceeds,  
Relating many glorious deeds,  
Of Guy of Warwick's fight doth strain  
With Colebrond, that renowned Dane,  
And of the famous Battles tried  
Twixt Knute and Edmond-Ironside;  
To the Staffordian fields doth rove;  
Visits the Springs of Trent and Dove;  
Of Moreland, Cank, and Needwood sings;  
〈…〉 which to this Canto brings.  
THE haughty Cambrian Hills enamoured of their praise  
(As they who only sought ambitiously to raise  
The blood of godlike Brute) their heads do proudly bear:  
And having crowned themselves sole Regent's of the Air  
(another war with Heaven as though they meant to make)  
Did seem in great disdain the bold affront to take,  
That any petty hill upon the English side,  
Should dare, not (with a crouch) to vale unto their pride.  
When Wrekin, as a hill his proper worth that knew,  
And understood from whence their insolency grew,  
For all that they appeared so terrible in sight,  
Yet would not once forego a jot that was his right.  
And when they stared on him, to them the like he gave,  
And answered glance for glance, and brave again for brave:  
That, when some other hills which English dwellers were,  
The lusty Wrekin saw himself so well to bear  
Against the Cambrian part, respectless of their power;  
His eminent disgrace expecting every hour,  
Those Flatterers that before (with many cheerful look)  
Had graced his goodly site, him utterly forsook,  
And muffled them in clouds, like Mourners veiled in black,  
Which of their utmost hope attend the ruinous wrack:  
That those delicious Nymphs, fair Tearne and Rodon clear  
(Two Brooks of him beloved, and two that held him dear;  
He, having none but them, they having none but he,  
Which to their mutual joy, might either's object be)  
Within their secret breasts conceived sundry fears,  
And as they mixed their streams, for him so mixed their tears.  
Whom, in their coming down, when plainly he discerns,  
For them his nobler heart in his strong bosom earns:  
But, constantly resolved, that (dearer if they were)  
The Britain's should not yet all from the English bear;  
Therefore, quoth he, brave Flood, though forth by 
d Out of Plinili●●on, in the confines of Cardigan and Montgomery.  Cambria brought,  
Yet as fair England's friend, or mine thou wouldst be thought  
(O Severne!) let thine ear my just defence partake:  
Which said, in the behalf of th' English, thus he spoke;  
Wise Weever (I suppose) sufficiently hath said  
Of those our Princes here, which fasted, watched, and prayed,  
Whose deep devotion went for others venturous deeds:  
But in this Song of mine, he seriously that reads,  
Shall find, ere I have done, the Britain (so extolled,  
Whose height each Mountain strives so mainly to up-hold)  
Matched with as valiant men, and of as clean a might,  
As skilful to command, and as enured to fight.  
Who, when their fortune willed that after they should scorse  
Blows with the big-boaned Dane, eschanging force for force  
(When first he put from Sea to forage on this shore,  
Two hundred 
e See to the 1. Song.  years distained with either's equal gore;  
Now this aloft, now that: oft did the English reign,  
And oftentimes again depressed by the Dane)  
The Saxons, than I say, themselves as bravely showed,  
As these on whom the Welsh such glorious praise bestowed.  
Nor could his angry sword, who Egbert overthrew  
(Through which he thought at once the Saxons to subdue)  
His kingly courage quell: but from his short retire,  
His reinforced troops (new forged with sprightly fire)  
Before them drove the Dane, and made the Britain run  
(Whom he by liberal wage here to his aid had won)  
Upon their recreant backs, which both in flight were slain,  
Till their huge murdered heaps manured each neighbouring Plain.  
As, Ethelwolfe again, his utmost powers that bend  
Against those fresh supplies each year from Denmark sent  
(Which, proling up and down in their rude Danish oars,  
here put themselves by stealth upon the pestered shores)  
In many a doubtful fight much fame in England won.  
So did the King of Kent, courageous Athelstan,  
Which here against the Dane got such victorious days.  
So, we the Wiltshire men as worthily may praise,  
That buckled with those Danes, by Ceo●le and Osrick brought.  
And Etheldred, with them nine sundry Fields that fought,  
Recorded in his praise, the conquests of one year.  
You right-named English then, courageous men you were  
When Redding ye regained, led by that valiant Lord:  
Where Basrig ye outbraved, and Halden, sword to sword;  
The most redoubted spirits that Denmark here addressed.  
And Alured, not much inferior to the rest:  
Who having in his days so many dangers past,  
In seven brave fought Fields their Champion Hubba chased,  
And slew him in the end, at Abington, that day  
Whose like the Sun near saw in his diurnal way:  
Where those, that from the Field sore wounded sadly fled,  
Were well-near overwhelmed with mountains of the dead.  
His force and fortune made the Foes so much to fear,  
As they the Land at last did utterly forswear.  
And, 
See to the next Song, of Rollo.  when proud Rollo, next, their former powers repaired  
(Yea, when the worst of all it with the English fared)  
Whose Countries near at hand, his force did still supply,  
And Denmark to her drew the strengths of Normandy,  
This Prince in many a fight their forces still defied.  
The goodly River Lee he wisely did divide,  
By which the Danes had then their full-fraught Navies tewed:  
The greatness of whose stream besieged Harford rued.  
This Alfred whose foresight had politicly found  
Betwixt them and the Thames advantage of the ground,  
A puissant hand thereto laboriously did put,  
§. And into lesser Streams that spacious Current cut.  
Their ships thus set on shore (to frustrate their desire)  
Those Danish Hulks became the food of English fire.  
Great Alfred left his life: when Elflida up-grew,  
That far beyond the pitch of other women flew:  
Who having in her youth of childing felt the woe,  
§. Her Lords embraces vowed she never more would know:  
But differing from her sex (as, full of manly fire)  
This most courageous Queen, by conquest to aspire,  
The puissant Danish powers victoriously pursued,  
And resolutely here through their thick Squadron show'd  
Her way into the North. Where, Derby having won,  
And things beyond belief upon the Enemy done,  
She saved besieged York; and in the Danes despite,  
When most they were upheld with all the Eusterne might,  
More Towns and Cities built out of her wealth and power,  
Then all their hostile flames could any way devour▪  
And, when the Danish here the Country most destroyed,  
Yet all our powers on them not wholly were employed;  
But some we still reserved abroad for us to roam,  
To fetching foreign spoils, to help our loss at home.  
And all the Land, from us, they neever clearly won:  
But to his endless praise, our English Athelstan,  
In the Northumbrian fields, with most victorious might  
Put Alaffe and his powers to more inglorious flight;  
And more than any King of th' English him before,  
Each way from North to South, from West to th'eastern shore,  
Made all the I'll his own; his seat who firmly fixed,  
The Caledonian hills, and Cathnes point betwixt,  
§. And Constantine their King (a prisoner) hither brought;  
Then over Severns banks the warlike Britain's sought:  
Where he their Princes forced from that their strong retreat,  
In England to appear at his Imperial seat.  
But after, when the Danes, who never wearied were,  
Came with intent to make a general conquest here,  
They brought with them a man deemed of so wondrous might,  
As was not to be matched by any mortal wight:  
For, one could scarcely bear his Axe into the field;  
Which as a little wand the Dane would lightly wield:  
And (to enforce that strength) of such a dauntless spirit,  
A man (in their conceit) of so exceeding merit,  
That to the English oft they offered him (in pride)  
The ending of the war by combat to decide:  
Much scandal which procured unto the English name.  
When, some out of their love, and some spurred on with shame,  
By envy some provoked, some out of courage, fain  
Would undertake the Cause to combat with the Dane.  
But Athelstan the while, in settled judgement found,  
Should the Defendant fail, how wide and deep a wound  
It likely was to leave to his defensive war.  
Thus, whilst with sundry doubts his thoughts perplexed are,  
It pleased all-powerful heaven, that Warwick's famous Guy  
(The Knight through all the world renowned for Chivalry)  
Arrived from foreign parts, where he had held him long.  
His honourable Arms devoutly having hung  
In a Religious house, the offerings of his praise,  
To his Redeemer Christ, his help at all assays  
(Those Arms, by whose strong proof he many a Christian freed,  
And bore the perfect marks of many a worthy deed)  
Himself, a Palmer poor, in homely Russet clad  
(And only in his hand his Hermit's staff he had)  
Towards Winchester alone (so) sadly took his way,  
Where Athelstan, that time the King of England lay;  
And where the Danish Camp then strongly did abide,  
near to a goodly Mead, which men there call the Hide.  
The day that Guy arrived (when silent night did bring  
Sleep both on friend and foe) that most religious King  
(Whose strong and constant heart, all grievous cares suppressed)  
His due devotion done, betook himself to rest.  
To whom it seemed by night an Angel did appear,  
Sent to him from that God whom he invoaked by prayer;  
Commanding him the time not idly to forslow,  
But rather as he could rise, to such a gate to go,  
Whereas he should not fail to find a goodly Knight  
In Palmer's poor attire: though very meanly dight,  
Yet by his comely shape, and limbs exceeding strong,  
He easily might him know the other folk among;  
And bade him not to fear, but choose him for the man.  
No sooner broke the day, but up rose Athelstan;  
And as the Vision showed, he such a Palmer found,  
With others of his sort, there sitting on the ground:  
Where, for some poor repast they only seemed to stay,  
Else ready to depart each one upon his way:  
When secretly the King revealed to the Knight  
His comfortable dreams that lately passed night:  
With mild and princely words be speaking him; quoth he,  
far better you are known to heaven (it seems) than me  
For this great Action fit: by whose most dread command  
(Before a world of men) it's laid upon your hand.  
Then stout and valiant Knight, here to my Court repair,  
Refresh you in my baths, and mollify your care  
With comfortable wines and meats what you will ask:  
And choose my richest Arms to fit you for this task.  
The Palmer (grey with age) with countenance lowting low,  
His head even to the earth before the King doth bow,  
Him softly answering thus; Dread Lord, it fits me ill  
(A wretched man) t'oppose high heavens eternal will:  
Yet my most sovereign Liege, no more of me esteem  
Then this poor habit shows, a Pilgrim as I seem;  
But yet I must confess, have seen in former days  
The best Knights of the world, and scuffled is some frays.  
Those times are gone with me; and, being aged now,  
Have offered up my Arms, to Heaven and made my vow  
Near more to bear a Shield, nor my declining age  
(Except some Palmer's Tent, or homely Hermitage)  
Shall ever enter roof: but if, by Heaven and thee,  
This Action be imposed great English King on me,  
Send to the Danish Camp, their challenge to accept,  
In some convenient place proclaiming it be kept:  
Where, by th'Almighties power, for England I'll appear.  
The King, much pleased in mind, assumes his wont cheer,  
And to the Danish power his choicest Herald sent.  
When, both through Camp and Court, this Combat quickly went.  
Which suddenly divulged, whilst every listening ear,  
As thirsting after news, desirous was to hear,  
Who for the English side durst undertake the day;  
The puissant King's accord, that in the middle way  
Betwixt the Tent and Town, to either's equal sight,  
Within a goodly Mead, most fit for such a fight,  
The Lists should be prepared for this material prize.  
The day prefixed once come, both Dane and English rise,  
And to th'appointed place th'unnumbered people throng:  
The weaker female sex, old men, and children young  
Into the windows get, and up on stalls, to see  
The man on whose brave hand their hope that day must be.  
In noting of it well, there might a man behold  
More sundry forms of fear than thought imagine could.  
One looks upon his friend with sad and heavy cheer,  
Who seems in this distress a part with him to bear:  
Their passions do express much pity mixed with rage.  
Whilst one his wives laments is labouring to assuage,  
His little infant near, in childish gibbridge shows  
What addeth to his grief who sought to calm her woes.  
One having climbed some roof, the concourse to descry,  
From thence upon the earth dejects his humble eye,  
As since he thither came he suddenly had found  
Some danger them amongst which lurked upon the ground.  
One stands with fixed eyes, as though he were aghast:  
Another sadly comes, as though his hopes were passed.  
This harkneth with his friend, as though with him to break  
Of some intended act. Whilst they together speak,  
Another standeth near to listen what they say,  
Or what should be the end of this so doubtful day.  
One great and general face the gathered people seem:  
So that the perfectest sight beholding could not deem  
What looks most sorrow showed; their griefs so equal were.  
Upon the heads of two, whose che●kes were joined so near  
As if together grown, a third his chin doth rest:  
Another looks o'er his: and others, hardly priest,  
Looked underneath their arms. Thus, whilst in crowds they throng  
(Led by the King himself) the Champion comes along;  
A man well struck in years, in homely Palmers grey,  
And in his hand his staff, his reverent steps to stay,  
Holding a comely pace: which at his passing by,  
In every censuring tongue, as every serious eye,  
Compassion mixed with fear, distrust and courage, bred.  
Then Colebrond for the Danes came forth in ireful red;  
Before him (from the Camp) an Ensign first displayed  
Amidst a guard of gleaves: then sumptuously arrayed  
Were twenty gallant youths, that to the warlike sound  
Of Danish brazen Drums, with many a lofty bound,  
Come with their Country's march, as they to Mars should dance.  
Thus, forward to the fight, both Champions them advance:  
And each without respect doth resolutely choose  
The weapon that he brought, nor doth his foes refuse.  
The Dane prepares his Axe, that ponderous was to feel,  
Whose squares were laid with plates, and riveted with steel,  
And armed down along with pikes; whose hardened points  
(Forced with the weapons weight) had power to tear the joints  
Of Curas or of Mail, or whatsoever they took:  
Which caused him at the Knight disdainfully to look.  
When our stout Palmer soon (unknown for valiant Guy)  
The cord from his strait loins doth presently untie,  
Puts off his Palmer's weed unto his truss, which bore  
The stains of ancient Arms, but showed it had before  
Been costly cloth of Gold; and off his hood he threw:  
Out of his Hermit's staff his two-hand sword he drew  
(The unsuspected sheath which long to it had been)  
Which till that instant time the people had not seen;  
A sword so often tried. Then to himself, quoth he,  
Arms let me crave your aid, to set my Country free:  
And never shall my heart your help again require,  
But only to my God to lift you up in prayer.  
Here, Colebrond forward made, and soon the Christian Knight  
Encounters him again with equal power and spite:  
Whereas, betwixt them two, might easily have been seen  
Such blows, in public throngs as used had they been,  
Of many there the least might many men have slain:  
Which none but they could strike, nor none but they sustain;  
The most relentless eye that had the power to awe,  
And so great wonder bred in those the Fight that saw,  
As verily they thought, that Nature until then  
Had purposely reserved the utmost power of men,  
Where strength still answered strength, on courage courage grew.  
Look how two Lions fierce, both hungry, both pursue  
One sweet and self-same prey, at one another fly,  
And with their armed paws ingrappled dreadfully,  
The thunder of their rage, and boisterous struggling, make  
The neighbouring Forests round affrightedly to quake:  
Their sad encounter, such. The mighty Colebrond struck  
A cruel blow at Guy: which though he finely broke,  
Yet (with the weapons weight) his ancient hilt it split,  
And (thereby lessened much) the Champion lightly hit  
Upon the reverent brow: immediately from whence  
The blood dropped softly down, as if the wound had sense  
Of their much inward woe that it with grief should see.  
The Danes, a deadly blow supposing it to be,  
Sent such an echoing shout that rend the troubled air.  
The English at the noise, we●t all so wan with fear,  
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, upon their cheeks had stayed.  
Here Guy, his better spirits recalling to his aid,  
Came fresh upon his foe; when mighty Colebrond makes  
An other desperate stroke: which Guy of Warwick takes  
Undauntedly aloft; and followed with a blow  
Upon his shorter ribs, that the excessive flow  
Streamed up unto his hilts: the wound so gaped withal,  
As though it meant to say, Behold your Champions fall  
By this proud Palmer's hand. Such claps again and cries  
The joyful English gave as cleft the very skies.  
Which coming on along from these that were without,  
When those within the Town received this cheerful shout,  
They answered them with like; as those their joy that knew.  
Then with such eager blows each other they pursue,  
As every offer made, should threaten imminent death;  
Until, through heat and toil both hardly drawing breath,  
They desperately do close. Look how two Boars, being set  
Together side to side, their threatening tusks do whet,  
And with their gnashing teeth their angry foam do bite,  
Whilst still they shouldering seek, each other where to smite:  
Thus stood those ireful Knights; till flying back, at length  
The Palmer, of the two the first recovering strength,  
Upon the left arm lent great Colebrond such a wound,  
That whilst his weapon's point ●ell well-near to the ground,  
And slowly he it raised, the valiant Guy again  
Sent through his cloven scalp his blade into his brain.  
When downward went his head, and up his heels he threw;  
As wanting hands to bid his Countrymen Adieu.  
The English part, which thought an end he would have made,  
And seeming as they much would in his praise have said,  
He bade them yet forbear, whilst he pursued his fame  
That to this passed King next in succession came;  
That great and puissant Knight (in whose victorious days  
Those knight-like deeds were done, no less deserving praise)  
Brave Edmond, Edward's son, that Stafford having ta'en,  
With as successful speed won Derby from the Dane.  
From Leicester then again, and Lincoln at the length,  
Drove out the Dacian Powers by his resistless strength:  
And this his England cleared beyond that raging 
* Humber.  Flood,  
Which that proud King of Huns once christened with his blood.  
By which, great Edmond power apparently was shown,  
The Land from Humber South recovering for his own,  
That Edgar after him so much disdained the Dane  
Unworthy of a war that should disturb his reign,  
As generally he seemed regardless of their hate.  
And studying every way magnificence in State,  
At Chester whilst he lived at more than kingly charge,  
Eight tributary 
h See to the X. Song.  Kings there rowed him in his Barge:  
His shores from Pirates sack the King that strongly kept:  
§. A Neptune, whose proud sails the British Ocean swept.  
But after his decease, when his more hopeful son,  
§. By cruel Stepdam's hate, to death was lastly done,  
To set his rightful Crown upon a wrongful head  
(When by thy fatal curse, licentious Etheldred,  
Through dissoluteness, sloth, and thy abhorred life,  
As grievous were thy sins, so were thy sorrows rife)  
The Dane, possessing all, the English forced to bear  
A heavier yoke than first those Heathen slaveries were;  
subjecteth, bought, and sold, in that most wretched plight,  
As even their thraldom seemed their neighbours to affright.  
Yet could not all their plagues the English height abate:  
But even in their low'st Ebb, and miserablest state,  
Courageously themselves they into action put,  
§. And in one night, the throats of all the Danish cut.  
And when in their revenge, the most insatiate Dane  
Unshipped them on our shores, under their puissant Swain:  
And swollen with hate and ire, their huge unweeldy force,  
Came clustering like the Greeks out of the Wooden-horse:  
And the Norfolcian Towns, the nearest unto the East,  
With sacrilege and rape did terriblest infest;  
Those Danes yet from the shores we with such violence drove,  
That from our swords, their ships could them but hardly save.  
And to renew the war, that year ensuing, when  
With fit supplies for spoil, they landed here again,  
And all the Southern shores from Kent to Cornwall spread,  
With those disordered troops by Alaffe hither led,  
In seconding their Swain, which cried to them for aid;  
Their multitudes so much sad Ethelred dismayed,  
As from his Country forced the wretched King to fly.  
An English yet there was, when England seemed to lie  
Under the heaviest yoke that ever kingdom bore,  
Who washed his secret knife in Swane's relentless gore,  
Whilst (swelling in excess) his lavish Cups he plied.  
Such means t'redeeme themselves th'afflicted Nation tried.  
And when courageous Knute, th'late murmured Swanus son,  
Came in t'reuenge that act on his great father done,  
He found so rare a spirit that here against him rose,  
As though ordained by Heaven his greatness to oppose:  
Who with him foot to foot, and face to face durst stand.  
When Knute, which here alone affected the Command,  
The Crown upon his head at fair Southampton set:  
And Edmond, loath to lose what Knute desired to get,  
At London caused himself inaugurate to be.  
King Knute would conquer all, King Edmond would be free.  
The kingdom is the Prize for which they both are priest:  
And with their equal powers both meeting in the West,  
The green Dorsetian fields a deep vermilion died:  
Where Gillingham gave way to their great hosts (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 suppress  
That Sarum then besieged, which was in great distress)  
With his victorious troops to Salisbury retires:  
When with fresh bleeding wounds, Knute, as with fresh desires,  
Whose might though somewhat maimed, his mind yet unsubdued,  
His lately conquering Foe, courageously pursued:  
And finding out a way, sent to his friends with speed,  
Who him supplied with aid: and being helped at need,  
Tempts Edmond still to fight, still hoping for a day.  
Towards Worstershire their Powers both well upon their way,  
There, falling to the Field, in a continual fight  
Two days the angry hosts still parted were by Night:  
Where twice the rising Sun, and twice the setting, saw  
Them with their equal wounds their wearied breath to draw.  
Great London to surprise, than (next) Canutus makes:  
And thitherward as fast King Edmond Ironside takes.  
Whilst Knute set down his siege before the Eastern gate,  
King Edmond through the West, passed in triumphal state.  
But this courageous King, that scorned, in his pride,  
A Town should be besieged wherein he did abide,  
Into the fields again the valiant Edmond goes.  
Kanutus, yet that hopes to win what he did lose,  
Provokes him still to fight: and falling back where they  
Might field-roomth find at large, their Ensigns to display,  
Together flew again; that Brentford, with the blood  
Of Danes and English mixed, discoloured long time stood.  
Yet Edmond, as before, went Victor still away.  
When soon that valiant Knute, whom nothing could dismay,  
Recalled his scattered troops, and into Essex hies,  
Where (as ill fortune would) the Dane with fresh supplies  
Was lately come aland, to whom brave Ironside makes;  
But Knute to him again as soon fresh courage takes:  
And Fortune (as herself) determining to show  
That she could bring an Ebb, on valiant Edmond flow,  
And easily cast him down from off the top of Chance,  
By turning of her wheel, Canutus doth advance.  
Where she beheld that Prince which she had favoured long  
(Even in her proud despite) his murmured troops among  
With sweat and blood besmeared (Dukes, Earls, and Bishops slain,  
In that most dreadful 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 herself, so brave a spirit as he  
By her unconstant hand should so much wronged be.  
But, having lost the day, to Gloucester he draws,  
To raise a second power in his slain soldiers cause.  
When late-encouraged Knute, whilst fortune yet doth last,  
Who oft from Ironside fled, now followed him as fast.  
Whilst thus in Civil Arms continually they toil,  
And what th'one strives to make, the other seeks to spoil,  
With threatening swords still drawn; and with obnoxious hands  
Attending their revenge, whilst either enemy stands,  
One man amongst the rest from this confusion breaks,  
And to the ireful Kings with courage boldly speaks;  
Yet cannot all this blood your ravenous outrage fill?  
Is there no law, no bound, to your ambitious will,  
But what your swords admit? as Nature did ordain  
Our lives for nothing else, but only to maintain  
Your murders, sack, and spoil? If by this wasteful war  
The Land unpeopled lie, some Nation shall from far,  
By ruin of you both, into the I'll be brought,  
Obtaining that for which you twain so long have fought.  
Unless then through your thirst of Empery you mean  
Both Nations in these broils shall be extinguished clean,  
Select you Champions fit, by them to prove your right,  
Or try it man to man yourselves in single fight.  
When as those warlike Kings, provoked with courage high,  
It willingly accept in person by and by.  
And whilst they them prepare, the shapeless concourse grows  
In little time so great, that their unusual flows  
Surrounded Severns banks, whose stream amazed stood,  
Her Birlich to behold, in-Iled with her flood,  
That with refulgent Arms then flamed; whilst the Kings,  
Whose rage out of the hate of either's Empire springs,  
Both armed, Cap à Pe, upon their barred horse  
Together fiercely flew; that in their violent course  
(Like thunder when it speaks most horribly and loud,  
Tearing the ful-stuft paunch of some congealed cloud)  
Their strong hooves struck the earth: and with the fearful shock,  
Their spears in splinters flew, their Bevers both unlock.  
Canutus, of the two that furthest was from hope,  
Who found with what a Foe his fortune was to cope,  
Cries, noble Edmona, hold; Let us the Land divide.  
here th' English and the Danes, from either equal side  
Were Echoes to his words, and all aloud do cry,  
Courageous Kings divide; 'twere pity such should die.  
When now the neighbouring Floods, willed Wrekin to suppress  
His style, or they were like to surfeit with excess.  
And time had brought about, that now they all began  
To listen to a long told Prophecy, which ran  
Of Moreland, that she might live prosperously to see  
A River borne of her, who well might recconed be  
The third of this large I'll: which Saw did first arise  
From Arden, in those days delivering prophecies.  
The Drvidss (as some say) by her instructed were.  
In many secret skills she had been cond her lere.  
The leaden of the Birds most perfectly she knew:  
And also from their flight strange Auguries she drew;  
Supremest in her place: whose circuit was extent  
From Avon to the Banks of Severne and to Trent:  
Where Empress like she sat with Nature's bounties blest,  
And served by many a Nymph; but two, of all the rest,  
That Staffordshire calls hers, there both of high account.  
The eldest of which is Canke: though Needwood her surmount,  
In excellence of soil, by being richly placed,  
Twixt Trent and battening Dove; and, equally embraced  
By their abounding banks, participates their store;  
Of Britain's Forests all (from th'less unto the more)  
For fineness of her turf surpassing; and doth bear  
Her curled head so high, that Forests far and near  
Oft grudge at her estate; her flourishing to see,  
Of all their stately tires disrobed when they be.  
But (as the world goes now) o woeful Canke the while,  
As brave a Wood-Nymph once as any of this Isle;  
Great Arden's eldest child: which, in her mother's ground  
Before fair Feck'nhams self, her old age might have crowned;  
When as those fallow Deer, and huge-hancht Stags that grazed  
Upon her shaggy Heaths, the passenger amazed  
To see their mighty Herds, with high-palmd heads to threat  
The woods of o'regrowne Oaks; as though they meant to set  
Their horns to th'others heights. But now, both those and these  
Are by vile gain devoured: So abject are our days.  
She now, unlike herself, a Neatheards' life doth live,  
And her dejected mind to Country cares doth give.  
But Muse, thou seem'st to leave the Morelands' too too long:  
Of whom report may speak (our mighty wastes among)  
She from her chilly site, as from her barren feed,  
For body, horn, and hair, as fair a Beast doth breed  
As scarcely this great Isle can equal: then of her,  
Why shouldst thou all this while the prophecy defer?  
Who bearing many Springs, which pretty Rivers grew,  
She could not be content, until she fully knew  
Which child it was of hers (borne under such a fate)  
As should in time be raised unto that high estate.  
(I fain would have you think, that this was long ago,  
When many a River, now that furiously doth flow,  
Had scarcely learned to creep) and therefore she doth will  
Wise Arden, from the depth of her abundant skill,  
To tell her which of these her Rills it was she meant.  
To satisfy her will, the Wizard answers; Trent.  
For, as a skilful Seer, the aged Forest wist,  
A more than usual power did in that name consist,  
Which thirty doth import; by which she thus divined, 
Trent signifieth thirty.   
There should be found in her, of Fishes thirty kind;  
And thirty Abbeys great, in places fat and rank,  
Should in succeeding time be builded on her bank;  
And thirty several Streams from many a sundry way,  
Unto her greatness should their watery tribute pay.  
This, Moreland greatly liked: yet in that tender love,  
Which she had ever borne unto her darling Dove,  
She could have wished it his: because the dainty grass  
That grows upon his bank, all other doth surpass.  
But, subject he must be: as Sow, which from her Spring,  
At Stafford meeteth Penk, which she along doth bring  
To Trent by tixal graced, the Astons ancient seat;  
Which oft the Muse hath found her safe and sweet retreat.  
The noble Owners now of which beloved place,  
Good fortunes them and theirs with honoured titles grace:  
May heaven still bless that House, till happy Floods you see  
Yourselves more graced by it, than it by you can be.  
Whose bounty, still my Muse so freely shall confess,  
As when she shall want words, her signs shall it express.  
So Blyth bears easily down towards her dear Sovereign Trent:  
But nothing in the world gives Moreland such content  
As her own darling Dove his confluence to behold  
Of Floods in sundry strains: as, crankling Manifold  
The first that lends him force: of whose meandred ways,  
And labyrinth-like turns (as in the Moors she strays)  
She first received her name, by growing strangely mad,  
Or'e-gone with love of Hanse, a dapper More-land Lad.  
Who near their crystal springs as in those wastes they played,  
Bewitched the wanton heart of that delicious maid:  
Which instantly was turned so much from being coy,  
That she might seem to dote upon the Morish boy.  
Who closely stole a way (perceiving her intent)  
With his dear Lord the Dove, in quest of Princely Trent,  
With many other Floods (as, Churnet, in his train  
That draweth Dunsmore on, with Yendon, then clear Taine,  
That comes alone to Dove) of which, Hanse one would be.  
And for himself he fain of Manifold would free  
(Thinking this amorous Nymph by some means to beguile)  
He closely under earth conveys his head awhile.  
But, when the River fears some policy of his,  
And her beloved Hanse immediately doth miss,  
Distracted in her course, improvidently rash,  
She oft against the Cleeves her crystal front doth dash:  
Now forward, then again she backward seems to bear;  
As, like to lose herself by straggling here and there.  
Hanse, that this while supposed him quite out of her sight,  
No sooner thrusts his head into the cheerful light,  
But Manifold that still the Runaway doth watch,  
Him (ere he was aware) about the neck doth catch:  
And, as the angry Hanse would feign her hold remove,  
They struggling tumble down into their Lord, the Dove.  
Thus though th'industrious Muse hath been employed so long,  
Yet is she loath to do poor little Smestall wrong,  
That from her Wilfrunes Spring near Hampton plies, to pour  
The wealth she there receives, into her friendly Stowr.  
Nor shall the little Bourne have cause the Muse to blame,  
From these Staffordian heaths that strives to catch the Tame:  
Whom she in her next Song shall greet with mirthful cheer,  
So happily arrived now in her native Shire.  

Illustrations.  
TAking her progress into the Land, the Muse comes Southward from Cheshire into adjoining Stafford, and that part of Shropshire, which lies in the English side, East from Severne.  
And into lesser streams the spacious current cut.  
In that raging devastation over this Kingdom by the Danes, they had gotten divers of their Ships fraught with provision out of Thames into the river Ley, (which divides Middlesex and Essex) some XX. miles from London; Alfred holding his tents near that territory, especially to prevent their spoil of the instant Harvest, observed that by dividing the River, then Navigable between them and Thames, their Ships would be grounded, and themselves bereft of what confidence their Navy had promised them. He thought it, and did it, by parting the water into three channels. The Danes betook themselves to flight, their Ships left as a prey to the Londoners.  
Her Lords embraces vowed she never more would know.  
This Alured left his son Edward successor, and, among other children, this El●led, or Ethelfled his daughter, married to Ethelred Earl of Mercland. Of Alfreds worth and troublous reign, because here the Author leaves him, I offer you these of an ancient English wit: 
Nobilitas innata tibi probitatis honorem  
Armipotens alfred dedit, probitasque laborem  
Perpetuúmque labor nomen. Cui mixta dolori  
Gaudia semper erant spes semper mixta timori.  
Si modo Victor ●ras ad Crastina bella pau●bas:  
Si modo victus eras ad crastina bella parabas  
Cui vestes sudore iugi, Cui sica cruore  
Tincta iugi, quantum sit Onus regnare probarunt.  Huntingdon cities these as his own; and if he deal plainly with us (I doubted it because his Ms. Epigrams, which make in some copies the XI. and XII. of his History, are of most different strain, and seem made when Apollo was either angry, or had not leisure to overlook them) he shows his Muse (as also in an other written by him upon Edgar, beginning Auctor opum, vindex scelerum Largitor honorum, etc.) in that still declining time of learnings-state, worthy of much precedence. Of Ethelfled in William of Malmesbury, is the Latin of this English: She was the love of the subject, fear of the enemy, a woman of a mighty heart; having once endured the grievous pains of childbirth, ever afterward denied her husband those sweeter desires; protesting, that, yielding indulgence towards a pleasure, having so much consequent pain, was unseemly in a King's daughter. She was buried at S. Peter's in Gloucester; her name loaden by Monks, 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, 
DCCCC. XXVI.  Malmesbury calls him Ludwal, and Constantine; he restored presently their Kingdoms, affirming, that, it was more for his Majesty to make a King then be one. The Scotish 
a Hector Both. lib. 11. & Buchanan. Hist. 6. reg. 85.  stories are not agreeing, here, with ours; against whom Buchanan storms, for affirming what I see not how he is so well able to confute, as they to justify. And for matter of that nature, I rather send you to the collections in Ed. I by Thomas of Walsingham, and thence for the same and other to Edw. Hall's Hen. VIII.  
A Neptune, whose proud sails the British Ocean swept.  
That Flower and delight of the English world, in whose birth-time S. Dunstane (as is said) at Glastenbury, heard this 
* Rob. Glocestrens.  Angelical voice; 
To holy Church and to the Lord Pays is ybore and bliss  
By thulke Child's time, that nouthe ybore is.  (among his other innumerable benefits, and royal cares) had a Navy of 
* Some say M M.M.M.  M.M.M.DC. sail; which by tripartit division in the East, West, and Northern coasts, both defended what was subject to pirates rapine, and so made strong his own Nation against the enemy's invasion.  
By civil Stepdame's hate to death was lastly done.  
Edgar had by one woman (his greatest stains show'd themselves in this variety and unlawful obtaining of Lustful sensuality, as Stories will tell you, in that of Earl Ethelwald, the Nun Wulfrith, and the young lass of Andever) called Eg●l●led, surnamed Ened, daughter to Odmer a great Nobleman, Edward; and by Q. Elfrith, daughter to Orgar Earl of Devonshire, Ethelred of some VII. years age at his death. That, Egelfled was a professed 
b Ex Osberno in Vita Dunstan, ●ox. E●cles. hist. 4 Anointed Princes.  Nun, some have argued and so make Ethelred the only legitimat heir to the Crown: nor do I think that, except Alfrith, he was married to any of the Ladies, on whom he got children. Edward was anointed King (for in those days was that use of Anointing among the Saxon Princes, and began in K. Alfred) but not without disliking grudges of his Stepmothers faction, which had nevertheless in substance, what his vain name only of King pretended: but her bloody hate, bred out of womanish ambition, straining to every point of Sovereignty, 
DCCCC. LXXVIII.  not thus satisfied, compelled in her this cruelty. K. Edward not suspecting her dissembled purposes with simple kindness of an open Nature, wearied after the Chase in Pu●beck I'll in Dorsetshire, without guard or attendance, visits her at Corfe Castle; she, under sweet words and saluting kisses, palliating her hellish design, entertains him: but while he being very hot and thirsty (without imagination of treason) was in pledging her, she 
* Vide Malmesb. lib. 2 cap. 9 & Huntingdon. hist. 5.  or one of her appointed servants, stabbed the innocent King. His corpse, within little space expiring its last breath, was buried at Warham, thence afterward by Alfer Earl of Mercland, translated into Shaftsbury, which (as to the II. Song I note) was hereby for a time called 
c Malmesb. lib. de Pontisic. 2.  S. Edward's. Thus did his brother in law Ethelred (according to wicked Elfriths cruel and traitorous Project) succeed him. As, of Constantine Copronymus, the greeks, so, of this Ethelred, is affirmed, that, in his holy tincture he abused the Font with natural excrements, which made S. Dunstan, then Christening him, angrily exclaim, 
* By God and his mother, he will be a slovenly fellow.  Per Deum & Matrem eius ignaws homo erit. Some ten years of age was he, when his brother Edward was slain, and, out of childish affection, wept for him bitterly; which his mother extremely disliking, being author of the murder only for his sake, most cruelly beaten him herself with 
d Rob. Glocestrensis.  an handful of Wax 
— Candlen long and tow  

* She.  Heo ne believed nought are he lay at her 
* Feet in woe.  vet yswowe:  
War thoru this child afterward such hay mon as he was  
Was the worse won he 
* Saw.  ysey Candlen vor this cas.  But I have 
e Vit. S. Edwardi apud Ranulph. Cestrens. lib. 6.  read it affirmed, that Ethelred never would endure any Wax Candles, because he had seen his mother unmercifully with them whip the good S. Edward. It's not worth one of the Candles, which be the truer; I incline to the first. To expiate all, she afterward built two Nunneries, one at Werwell, the other at Ambresbury; and by all means of Penitence and Satisfaction (as the doctrine then directed) endeavoured her freedom out of this horrible offence.  
And in one night the throats of all the Danish cut.  
History, not this place, must inform the Reader of more particulars of the Danes; and let him see to the I. Song. But, for this slaughter, I thus ease his Inquisition. Ethelred (after multitudes of miseries, 
M II.  long continued through their exactions and devastations, being so large, that XVI. Shires had endured their cruel and even conquering spoils) in the XXIII. of his reign, strengthened with provoking hopes, grounded on alliance, which, by marriage with Emma, daughter of Richard I. Duke of Normandy, he had with his neighbour Potentate, sent privy letters into every place of note, where the Danes by truce peaceably resided, to the English, commanding them, all as one, on the self-same day and hour appointed (the day was S. Brictius, that is, the XIII. of November) suddenly to put them, as respective occasion best fitted, to fire or sword; which was performed.  
A Chronological order and descent of the Kings here included in Wrekins Song.  

A. CHR.  DCCC. 
Egbert son to Inegild (others call him Alhmund) grandchild to K. Ine. After 
* See to the last Song before. Because in Westsex all the rest were at last confounded. These are most commonly written Kings of Westsex, although in Signiory (as it were) or, as the Civilians call it, Direct Property, all the other Provinces (except some Northern, & what the Danes unjustly possessed) were theirs.  him scarce any, none long, had the name of King in the Isle, but Governors or Earls; the common titles being Duces, Comites, consuls, and such like; which in some writers after the Conquest were indifferent names, and William the I. is often called Earl of Normandy.  DCCC.XXXVI. 
Ethelulph son to Egbert.  DCCC.LV. 
Ethelbald and Ethelbert, sons to Ethelulph, dividing their Kingdom, according to their father's Testament.  DCCC.LX. 
Ethelbert alone, after Ethelbalds' death.  DCCC.LXVI. 
Ethelred, third son of Ethelulph.  DCC.LXXI. 
Alfred youngest son to Ethelulph, brought up at Rome; and there, in ethelred's life time, Anointed by PP. Leo IV. as in ominous hope of his future Kingdom.  DCCCC. I. 
Edward I. surnamed in Story 
* The elder.  Senior, son to Alfred.  DCCCC. XXIV. 
Athelstan, eldest son to Edward, by Egwine a shepherds daughter; but, to whom Beauty and Noble spirit denied, what base Parentage required. She, before the K. lay with her, dreamt (you remember that of Olympias, and many such like) that out of her womb did shine a Moon, enlightening all England, which in her Birth (Athelstan) proved true.  DCCCC. XL. 
Edmund I. son of 
* Malè enim & ineptè Veremundi sequax Hector ille Both. lib. 11. qui Ed●. & Edredum Aethelstano scribit prognatos.  Edward by his Q. Edgi●e.  DCCCC. XLVI. 
Edred brother to Edmund.  DCCCC. LV. 
Edwy first son of Edmund.  DCCCC. LIX. 
Edgar (second son of Edmund) 
* The Minion of his subjects.  Honour ac Deliciae Anglorum.  DCCCC. LXXV. 
Edward II. son to Edgar by Egelfled, murdered by his Stepmother Alfrith, and thence called S. Edward.  DCCCC. I XXIX 
Ethelred II. son to Edgar, by Q. Alfrith, daughter to Orgar Earl of Devonshire.  M.XVI 
Edmund II. son to Ethelred by his first wife Elfgine, surnamed Ironside.   
Between him and Cnut (or Canutus) the Dane, son to Swain, was that intended single combat; so by their own particular fortunes, to end the miseries, which the English soil bore recorded in very great Characters, written with streams of her children's blood. It properly here breaks off; for (the composition being, that Edmund should have his part Westsex, Estsex, Estangle, Middlesex, Surrey, Kent, and Sussex, and the Dane (who durst not fight it out, but first moved for a Treaty) Mercland and the Northern territories) Edmund died the same year (some report was, that traitorous Edrique Stre●na Earl of Mercland poisoned him) leaving sons Edmund and Edward: but they were, by Danish ambition, and traitorous perjury of the unnatural English State, disinherited, and all the Kingdom cast under Cnut. After him reigned his son Harold I Lightfoot a shoemakers 
* Marian. Scot & Florent. Wigorn.  son (but dissembled, as begotten by him on his Q. Alfgine:) then, with Harold, Hardc●●t, whom he had by his wife Emma, K. ethelred's Dowager. So that from Edmund, of Saxon blood (to whose glory Wrekin hath dedicated his endeavour; and therefore should transcend his purpose, if he exceeded their Empire) until Edward the Confessor, following Hardc●●t, son to Ethelred, by the same Q. Emma, the Kingdom continued under Danish Princes.    

  

The thirteenth Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
This Song our Shire of Warwick sounds;  
Revives old Arden's ancient bounds.  
Through many shapes the Muse here roves;  
Now sporting in those shady Groves,  
The tunes of Birds oft stays to hear:  
Then, finding Herds of lusty Dear,  
She Huntresse-like the heart pursues;  
And like a Hermit walks, to choose  
The Simples every where that grow;  
Comes anchor's glory next to show;  
Tells Guy of Warwick's famous deeds;  
To th'Vale of Red-horse than proceeds,  
To play her part the rest among;  
There shutteth up her thirteenth Song.  
Upon the Midlands now th'industrious Muse doth fall;  
That Shire which we the heart of England well may call, 
Warwickshire the middle Shire of England.   
As she herself extends (the midst which is decreed)  
Betwixt S. Michael's Mount, and Barwick-bord'ring Tweed,  
Brave Warwick; that abroad so long advanced her 
* The ancient Coat of that Earldom.  Bear,  
§. By her illustrious Earls renowned every where;  
Above her neighbouring Shires which always bore her head.  
My native Country then, which so brave spirits hast bred,  
If there be virtue yet remaining in thy earth,  
Or any good of thine thou breathd'st into my birth,  
Accept it as thine own whilst now I sing of thee;  
Of all thy later Brood th'unworthiest though I be.  
Muse, first of Arden tell, 
divers Towns expressing her name: as Henly in Arden, Hampton in Arden. etc.  whose footsteps yet are found  
In her rough wood-lands more than any other ground  
§. That mighty Arden held even 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 own self the ancient Forest spoke;  
My many goodly sites when first I came to show,  
Here opened I the way to mine own overthrow:  
For, when the world found out the fitness of my soil,  
The gripple wretch began immediately to spoil  
My tall and goodly woods, and did my grounds enclose:  
By which, in little time my bounds I came to lose.  
When Britain first her fields with Villages had filled,  
Her people waxing still, and wanting where to build,  
They oft dislodged the heart, and set their houses, where  
He in the Broom and Brakes had long time made his leyre.  
Of all the Forests here within this mighty I'll,  
If those old Britain's then me Sovereign did enstyle,  
I needs must be the great'st; for greatness 'tis alone  
That gives our kind the place: else were there many a one  
For pleasantness of shade that far doth me excel.  
But, of our forests kind the quality to tell,  
We equally partake with woodland as with Plain,  
Alike with Hill and Dale; and every day maintain  
The sundry kinds of beasts upon our copious wast's,  
That men for profit breed, as well as those of chase▪  
Here Arden of herself ceased any more to show;  
And with her Sylvan joys the Muse along doth go.  
When Phoebus lifts his head out of the Winter's wave,  
No sooner doth the Earth her flowery bosom brave,  
At such time as the Year brings on the pleasant Spring,  
But Hunts-up to the Morn the feathered Sylvans sing:  
And in the lower Grove, as on the rising Knole,  
Upon the highest spray of every mounting pole,  
Those quiristers are perched with many a speckled breast.  
Then from her burnished gate the goodly glittering East  
Guilds every lofty top, which late the humorous Night  
Bespangled had with pearl, to please the Morning's sight:  
On which the mirthful Quires, with their clear open throats,  
Unto the joyful Morn so strain their warbling notes,  
That Hills and Valleys ring, and even the echoing Air  
Seems all composed of sounds, about them every where.  
The Throstell, with shrill Sharps; as purposely he song  
T'awake the lustless Sun; or chiding, that so long  
He was in coming forth, that should the thickets thrill:  
The Woosell near at hand, that hath a golden bill;  
As Nature him had marked of purpose, t'let us see  
That from all other Birds his tunes should different be:  
For, with their vocal sounds, they sing to pleasant May;  
Upon his 
d Of all Birds, only the Blackbird whistleth.  dulcet pipe the Merle doth only play.  
When in the lower Brake, the Nightingale hard-by,  
In such lamenting strains the joyful hours doth ply,  
As though the other Birds she to her tunes would draw.  
And, but that Nature (by her all-constraining law)  
Each Bird to her own kind this season doth invite,  
They else, alone to hear that Charmer of the Night  
(The more to use their ears) their voices sure would spare,  
That moduleth her tunes so admirably rare,  
As man to set in Parts, at first had learned of her.  
To Philomel the next, the Linnet we prefer;  
And by that warbling bird, the Wood-Larke place we then,  
The Red-sparrow, the Nope, the Redbreast, and the Wren,  
The Yellow-pate: which though she hurt the blooming tree,  
Yet scarce hath any bird a finer pipe than she.  
And of these chanting Fowls, the Goldfinch not behind,  
That hath so many sorts descending from her kind.  
The Tidy for her notes as delicate as they,  
The laughing Hecco, than the counterfeiting lay,  
The Softer, with the (Shrill some hid among the leaves,  
Some in the taller trees, some in the lower greaveses)  
Thus sing away the Morn, until the mounting Sun,  
Through thick exhaled fogs, his golden head hath run,  
And through the twisted tops of our close Covert creeps  
To kiss the gentle Shade, this while that sweetly sleeps.  
And near to these our Thicks, the wild and frightful Herds,  
Not hearing other noise but this of chattering Birds,  
Feed fairly on the Lands; both sorts of seasoned Deer:  
Here walk, the stately Red, the freckled Fallow there:  
The Bucks and lusty Stags amongst the Rascals strewed,  
As sometime gallant spirits amongst the multitude.  
Of all the Beasts which we for our 
* Of hunting, or Chase.  venerial name,  
The Hart amongst the rest, the Hunter's noblest game:  
Of which most Princely Chase sith none did ere report,  
Or by description touch, t'express that wondrous sport  
(Yet might have well beseemed th'ancients nobler Songs)  
To our old Arden here, most fitly it belongs:  
Yet shall she not invoke the Muses to her aid;  
But thee Diana bright, a Goddess and a maid:  
In many a huge-growne Wood, and many a shady Grove,  
Which oft hast borne thy Bow (great Huntress) used to rove  
At many a cruel beast, and with thy darts to pierce  
The Lion, Panther, Ounce, the Bear, and Tiger fierce;  
And following thy fleet Game, chaste mighty forests Queen,  
With thy disheveled Nymphs attired in youthful green,  
About the Lands hast scoured, and Wastes both far and near,  
Brave Huntress: but no beast shall prove thy Quarries here;  
Save those the best of Chase, the tall and lusty Red,  
The Stag for goodly shape, and stateliness of head,  
Is fitt'st to hunt at force. For whom, when with his hounds  

A description of hunting the Hart.  The labouring Hunter tufts the thick unbarbed grounds  
Where harboured is the heart; there often from his seed  
The dogs of him do find; or through skilful heed,  
The Huntsman by his 
* The tract of the foot.  slot, or breaking earth, perceives,  
Or entering of the thick by pressing of the greaveses  
Where he hath gone to lodge. Now when the Hart doth hear  
The often-bellowing hounds to vent his secret leyre,  
He rousing rusheth out, and through the Brakes doth drive,  
As though up by the roots the bushes he would rive.  
And through the cumbrous thicks, as fearfully he makes,  
He with his branched head, the tender Saplings shakes,  
That sprinkling their moist pearl do seem for him to weep;  
When after goes the Cry, with yell loud and deep,  
That all the Forest rings, and every neighbouring place:  
And there is not a hound but falleth to the Chase.  

f One of the Measures in winding the horn.  Rechating with his horn, which then the Hunter cheers,  
Whilst still the lusty Stag his high-palmed head up-beares,  
His body showing state, with unbent knees upright,  
Expressing (from all beasts) his courage in his flight.  
But when th'approaching foes still following he perceives,  
That he his speed must trust, his usual walk he leaves;  
And o'er the Champain flies: which when th'assembly find,  
Each follows, as his horse were footed with the wind.  
But being then embossed, the noble stately Deer  
When he hath gotten ground (the kennel cast arere)  
Doth beaten the Brooks and Ponds for sweet refreshing soil:  
That serving not, then proves if he his scent can foil,  
And makes amongst the Herds, and flocks of shag-woolled Sheep,  
Them frighting from the guard of those who had their keep.  
But when as all his shifts his safety still denies,  
Put quite out of his walk, the ways and fallows tries.  
Whom when the Ploughman meets, his team he letteth stand  
T'assail him with his goad: so with his hook in hand,  
The Shepherd him pursues, and to his dog doth hallow:  
When, with tempestuous speed, the hounds and Huntsmen follow;  
Until the noble Deer through toil bereaved of strength,  
His long and sinewy legs then failing him at length,  
The Villages attempts, enraged, not giving way  
To any thing he meets now at his sad decay.  
The cruel ravenous hounds and bloody Hunters near,  
This noblest beast of Chase, that vainly doth but fear,  
Some bank or quickset finds: to which his haunch opposed,  
He turns upon his foes, that soon have him enclosed.  
The churlish throated hounds then holding him at bay,  
And as their cruel fangs on his harsh skin they lay,  
With his sharp-pointed head he dealeth deadly wounds.  
The Hunter, coming in to help his wearied hounds,  
He desperately assails; 
The Hart weary at his dying: his tears are held to be precious in medicine.  until oppressed by force,  
He who the Mourner is to his own dying Corpse,  
Upon the ruthless earth his precious tears le's fall.  
To Forests that belongs; but yet this is not all:  
With solitude what sorts, that here's not wondrous rife?  
Whereas the Hermit leads a sweet retired life,  
From Villages replete with ragged and sweeting Clowns,  
And from the loathsome airs of smoky cittied Towns.  
Suppose twixt noon and night, 
A description of the afternoon.  the Sun his halfway wrought  
(The shadows to be large, by his descending brought)  
Who with a fervent eye looks through the twyring glades,  
And his dispersed rays commixeth with the shades,  
Exhaling the mil●h dew, which there had tarried long,  
And on the ranker grass till past the noone-sted hung;  
When as the Hermit comes out of his homely Cell,  
Where from all rude resort he happily doth dwell: 
Hermit's have oft had their abodes by ways that lie through Forests.   
Who in the strength of youth, a man at Arms hath been;  
Or one who of this world the vileness having seen,  
Retires him from it quite; and with a constant mind  
Man's beastliness so loathes, that flying human kind,  
The black and darksome nights, the bright and gladsome days  
Indifferent are to him, his hope on God that stays.  
Each little Village yields his short and homely fare:  
To gather wind-falne sticks, his great'st and only care;  
Which every aged tree still yieldeth to his fire.  
This man, that is alone a King in his desire,  
By no proud ignorant Lord is basely over-awed,  
Nor his false praise affects, who grossly being clawed,  
Stands like an itchy Moil; nor of a pin he ways  
What fools, abused Kings, and humorous Ladies raise.  
His free and noble thought, near envies at the grace  
That often times is given unto a Bawd most base,  
Nor stirs it him to think on the Impostor vile,  
Who seeming what he'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 herbs which there in plenty grow:  
Whose sundry strange effects he only seeks to know.  
And in a little Maund, being made of Oziars small,  
Which serveth him to do full many a thing withal,  
He very choicely sorts his Simples got abroad.  
here finds he on an Oak Rheume-purging Polipode;  
And in some open place that to the Sun doth lie,  
He fumitory gets, and eyebright for the eye:  
The Yarrow, wherewithal he stops the wound-made gore:  
The healing Tutsan then, and Plantain for a sore.  
And hard by them again he holy vervain finds,  
Which he about his head that hath the Megrim binds.  
The wonder-working Dill he gets not far from these,  
Which curious women use in many a nice disease.  
For them that are with Newts, or Snakes, or Adders stung,  
He seeketh out an herb that's called Adders-tong;  
As Nature it ordained, it's own like hurt to cure,  
And sportive did herself to niceties invre.  
Valerian then he crops, and purposely doth stamp,  
T'apply unto the place that's haled with the Cramp.  
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 Physic, some again he inwardly applies.  
For comforting the Spleen and Liver, gets for juice,  
Pale horehound, which he holds of most especial use.  
So Saxifrage is good, and Harts-tongue for the Stone,  
With Agrimony, and that herb we call S. john.  
To him that hath a flux, of shepherds purse he gives,  
And Mous-eare unto him whom some sharp rupture grieves.  
And for the labouring wretch that's troubled with a cough,  
Or stopping of the breath, by phlegm that's hard and tough,  
Campana here he crops, approved wondrous good:  
As Comfrey unto him that's bruised, spitting blood;  
And from the Falling-ill, by Five-leafe doth restore,  
And Melancholy cures by sovereign Hellebore.  
Of these most helpful herbs yet tell we but a few,  
To those unnumbered sorts of Simples here that grew.  

The Authors of two famous Herbal.  Which justly to set down, even Dodon short doth fall;  
Nor skilful Gerard, yet, shall ever find them all.  
But from our Hermit here the Muse we must enforce,  
And zealously proceed in our intended course:  
How Arden of her Rills and Riverets doth dispose;  
By Alcester how Alne to Arro easily flows;  
And mildly being mixed, to Avon hold their way:  
And likewise towered the North, how lively-tripping Rhea,  
T'attend the lustier Tame, is from her Fountain sent:  
So little Cole and Blyth go on with him to Trent.  
His Tamworth at the last, he in his way doth win:  
There playing him awhile, till Anchor should come in,  
Which trifleth twixt her banks, observing state, so slow,  
As though into his arms she scorned herself to throw:  
Yet Arden willed her Tame to serve 
* Anchor.  her on his knee;  
For by that Nymph alone, they both should honoured be.  
The Forest so much fallen from what she was before,  
That to her former height Fate could her not restore;  
Though oft in her behalf, the Genius of the Land  
Importuned the Heavens with an auspicious hand.  
Yet granted at the last (the aged Nymph to grace)  
They by a Lady's birth would more renown that place  
Then if her Woods their heads above the Hills should seat;  
And for that purpose, first made Coventry so great  
(A poor thatched Village then, or scarcely none at all,  
That could not once have dreamed of her now stately wall)  
wall. And thither wisely brought that goodly Virgin-band,  
Th'eleven thousand maids, chaste Vrsula's Command,  
Whom then the Britain Kings gave her full power to press,  
For matches to their friends in Britanny the less.  
At whose departure thence, each by her just bequest  
Some special virtue gave, ordaining it to rest  
With one of their own sex, that there her birth should have,  
Till fullness of the time which Fate did choicely save;  
Until the Saxons reign, when Coventry at length,  
From her small, mean regard, recovered state and strength,  
§. By Leofrick her Lord yet in base bondage held,  
The people from her Marts by tollage who expelled:  
Whose Duchess, which desired this tribute to release,  
Their freedom often begged. The Duke, to make her cease,  
Told her that if she would his loss so far enforce,  
His will was, she should ride stark naked upon a horse  
By day light through the street: which certainly he thought,  
In her heroïck breast so deeply would have wrought,  
That in her former suit she would have left to deal.  
But that most princely Dame, as one devoured with zeal,  
Went on, and by that mean the City clearly freed.  
The first part of whose name, Godiua, doth forereed  
Th'first syllable of her●, and Goodere half doth sound;  
For by agreeing words, great matters have been found.  
But further than this place the mystery extends.  
What Arden had begun, in Anchor lastly ends:  
For in the British tongue, the Britain's could not find,  
Wherefore to her that name of Anchor was assigned:  
Nor yet the Saxons since, nor times to come had known,  
But that her being here, was by this name fore-shown,  
As prophesying her. For, as the first did tell  
Her Surname, so again doth Anchor lively spell  
Her Christened title Anne. And as those Virgins there  
Did sanctify that Place: so holy Edith here  
A Recluse long time lived, in that fair Abbey placed  
Which Alured enriched, and Powlesworth highly graced.  
A Princess being borne, and Abbess, with those Maids,  
All Noble like herself, in bidding of their Beads  
Their holiness bequeathed, upon her to descend  
Which there should after live: in whose dear self should end  
Th'intent of anchor's name, her coming that decreed,  
As hers (her place of birth) fair Coventry that freed.  
But whilst about this tale smooth Anchor trifling stays,  
Unto the lustier Tame as loath to come her ways,  
The Flood entreats her thus; Dear Brook, why dost thou wrong  
Our mutual love so much, and tediously prolong  
Our mirthful mariage-howre, for which I still prepare?  
Haste to my broader banks, my joy and only care.  
For as of all my Floods thou art the first in fame;  
When frankly thou shalt yield thine honour to my name,  
I will protect thy state: then do not wrong thy kind.  
What pleasure hath the world that here thou mayst not find?  
Hence, Muse, divert thy course to Dunsmore, by that 
f The High-crosse, supposed to be the midst of England.  Cross  
Where those two mighty 
g See to the xuj. Song.  ways, the Watling and the Fosse,  
Our Centre seem to cut. (The first doth hold her way,  
From Dover, to the farth'st of fruitful Anglesey:  
The second South and North, from Michael's utmost Mount,  
To Cathnesse, which the furth'st of Scotland we accounted.)  
And then proceed to show, how Avon from her Spring,  

Newnham Wells  By Newnhams Fount is blest; and how she, blandishing,  
By Dunsmore drives along. Whom Sow doth first assist,  
Which taketh Shirburn in, with Cune, a great while missed;  
Though 
h Otherwise, Cune-tre: that is, the Town upon Cune.  Coventry from thence her name at first did raise,  
Now flourishing with Fanes, and proud Pyramids;  
Her walls in good repair, her Ports so bravely built,  
Her halls in good estate, her Cross so richly gilded,  
As scorning all the Towns that stand within her view:  
Yet must she not be grieved, that Cune should claim her due.  
Towards Warwick with this train as Avon trips along,  
To Guy-cliffe being come, her Nymphs thus bravely sung;  
To thee renowned Knight, continual praise we owe,  
And at thy hallowed Tomb thy yearly Obijts show;  
Who, thy dear Phillis name and Country to advance,  
Left'st Warwick's wealth seat: and sailing into France,  
At Tilt, from his proud Steed, Duke Otton threw'st to ground:  
And with th'invalued Prize of Blanch the beauteous crowned  
(The Almain Emperors heir) high acts didst there achieve:  
As Louvain thou again didst valiantly relieve.  
Thou in the Sultan's blood thy worthy sword imbru'dst;  
And then in single fight, great Amerant subdu'dst.  
'Twas thy Herculean hand, which happily destroyed  
That Dragon, which so long Northumberland annoyed;  
And slew that cruel Boar, which waste our wood-lands laid,  
Whose tusks turned up our Tilths, and Dens in Meadows made:  
Whose shoulder-blade remains at Coventry till now;  
And, at our humble suit, did quell that monstrous Cow  
The passengers that used from Dunsmore to affright.  
Of all our English (yet) o most renowned Knight,  
That Colebrond overcam'st: at whose amazing fall  
The Danes removed their Camp from Winchester's sieged wall.  
Thy statue Guy-cliffe keeps, the gazer's eye to please;  
Warwick, thy mighty Arms (thou English Hercules)  
Thy strong and massy sword, that never was controlled:  
Which, as her ancient right, her Castle still shall hold.  
Scarce ended they their Song, but Avons winding stream,  
By Warwick, entertains the high complexioned Leame:  
And as she thence along to Stratford on doth strain,  
receiveth little Heile the next into her train:  
Then taketh in the Stour, the Brook, of all the rest  
Which that most goodly Vale of Red-horse loveth best;  
A Valley that enjoys a very great estate,  
Yet not so famous held as smaller, by her fate:  
Now, for Report had been too partial in her praise,  
Her just conceived grief, fair Red-horse thus bewrays;  
Shall every Vale be heard to boast her wealth? and I,  
The needy Countries near that with my Corn supply  
As bravely as the best, shall only I endure  
The dull and beastly world my glories to obscure;  
Near wayless Arden's side, sith my rety'rd abode  
Stood quite out of the way from every common road?  
Great Eusham's fertile Glebe, what tongue hath not extolled?  
As though to her alone belonged the 
* The Sheafe.  Garb of Gold.  
Of Bevers batfull earth, men seem as though to feign,  
Reporting in what store she multiplies her grain:  
And folk such wondrous things of Alsburie will tell,  
As though Abundance strove her burdened womb to swell.  
Her room amongst the rest, so White-horse is decreed:  
She wants no setting forth: her brave Pegasian Steed  
(The wonder of the West) exalted to the skies:  
My Red-horse of you all contemned only lies.  
The fault is not in me, but in the wretched time:  
On whom, upon good cause, I well may lay the crime:  
Which as all noble things, so me it doth neglect.  
But when th'industrious Muse shall purchase me respect  
Of Countries near my site, and win me foreign fame  
(The Eden of you all deservedly that am)  
I shall as much be praised for delicacy then,  
As now in small account with vile and barbarous men.  
For, from the lofty 
f The Edge-hil  Edge that on my side doth lie,  
Upon my spacious earth who casts a curious eye,  
As many goodly seats shall in my compass see,  
As many sweet delights and rarities in me  
As in the greatest Vale: from where my head I couch  
At Cotswolds Countries foot, till with my heels I touch  

The bands of the Vale of Red-horse.  The North-hamptonian fields, and fattening Pastures; where  
I ravish every eye with my enticing cheer.  
As still the Year grows on, that Ceres once doth load  
The full Earth with her store; my plenteous bosom strowed  
With all abundant sweets: my frim and lusty flank  
Her bravery then displays, with Meadows hugely rank.  
The thick and well-grown fog doth matt my smother slades,  
And on the lower Leas, as on the higher Hades  
The dainty Clover grows (of grass the only silk)  
That makes each udder strut abundantly with milk.  

A Simile of the place and people.  As an unlettred man, at the desired sight  
Of some rare beauty moved with infinite delight,  
Not out of his own spirit, but by that power divine,  
Which through a sparkling eye perspicuously doth shine,  
Feels his hard temper yield, that he in passion breaks,  
And things beyond his height, transported strangely speaks:  
So those that dwell in me, and live by frugal toil,  
When they in my defence are reasoning of my soil,  
As rapted with my wealth and beauties, learned grow,  
And in wel-fitting terms, and noble language, show  
The Lordships in my Lands, from Rolright (which remains  
§. A witness of that day we won upon the Danes)  
To Tawcester well-near: twixt which, they use to tell  
Of places which they say do Rumneys self excel.  

Wondrous fruitful places in the Vale.  Of Dasset they dare boast, and give Wormlighton prize,  
As of that fertile Flat by Bishopton that lies.  
For showing of my bounds, if men may rightly guess  
By my continued form which best doth me express,  
On either of my sides and by the rising grounds,  
Which in one fashion hold, as my most certain Mounds,  
In length near thirty miles I am discerned to be.  
Thus Red-horse ends her tale; and I therewith agree  
To finish here my Song: the Muse some ease doth ask,  
As wearied with the toil in this her serious task.  

Illustrations.  
INto the heart of England and Wales, The Muse here is entered, that is, Warwickshire her Native 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 her Illustrious Earls renowned every where.  
Permit to yourself credit of those, loaden with antic fables, as Guy (of whom the Author in the XII. Song, and here presently) Morind and such like, and no more testimony might be given, to exceed. But, More sure justification hereof is, in those Great Princes Henry Beauchamp Earl of Warwick, and 
* Chief Earl of England.  Praecomes Angliae (as the Record calls him) under 
a Parl. rot. 23. Hen. 6. ap. Cam.  Hen. VI and Richard Nevil making it (as it were) his gain to Crown, and depose Kings in that bloody dissension on twixt the White and Red Roses.  
That mighty Arden held—  
What is now the Woodland in Warwickshire, was heretofore part of a larger Weald or Forest called Arden. The relics of whose name in Dene of Monmouth Shire, & that Arduenna or La Forest d' Ardenne, by Henault and Luxembourg, shows likelihood of interpretation of the yet used English name of Woodland. And, whereas, in old inscriptions, 
b Hubert. Goltz. Thesauran Aris.  Diana 
* Diana of the wood.  Nemorensis, with other additions, hath been found among the Latins, the like seems to be expressed in an old Marble, now in Italy, 
c jul. jacobon. ap. Paul. Merul. Cosmog. part. 2. lib. 3. cap. 11.  graven under Domitian, in part thus: 
* To the separated souls, Q Caesius, etc. Priest of Diana of Arden, or surnamed Arden.  DIS. MANIBUS. Q. CAESIUS. Q. F. CLAUD. ATILIAN US. SACERDOS. DEANA E. ARDVINNAE. That comprehensive largeness which this Arden once extended (before Ruin of her Woods) makes the Author thus limit her with Severne and Trent. By reason of this her greatness joined with Antiquity. He also made choice 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 justification of making a Poem, may be from tradition, which the Author here uses; but see to the VIII. Song, where you have this incredible number of Virgins, shipped at London, nor skills it much on which you bestow your faith, or if on neither. Their request (as the Genius prayer) are the Authors own fictions, 
About clo. L.  to come to express the worth of his Native soils City.  
By Leofrique her Lord, yet in base bondage held.  
The ensuing Story of this Leofrique and Godiva, was under the Confessor. I find it reported in Matthew of Westminster, that 
* As she was on horseback, her hair lose hung so long, that it covered all her body, to her thighs.  Nuda, equum ascendens, crines capitis & tricas dissoluens corpus suum totum, praeter Crura candidissima, inde velavit. This Leofrique (buried at Coventry) was Earl of Leicester, not Chester (as some ill took it by turning Legecestra, being indeed sometimes for Chester, of old called Vrbs Legionum, as to the XI▪ Song already) which is without scruple show'd in a 
d Ingulphu●, Hist. sol. 519.  Charter, of the Manor of Spalding in Lincolnshire, made to Wulgat Abbot of Crowland, beginning thus: Ego Thoroldus De Buckenhale co●ä Nobilissimo ` Domino meo Leo●rico Comite Leicestrae, & Nobilissima Comitissa sua Domina Godiva sorore mea, & cum consensu & bona voluntate Domini & Cognati mei Comitis Algari primogeniti & Haeredis eorum, donavi, etc. Th● Algar succeeded him; and, as a special title, Government, & honour, this earldom was therein among the Saxons so singular, that it was hereditary with a very long pedigree, till the Conquest, from K. Ethelbalds' time, above CCC. years. In Malmesbury, 
Power of Earls anciently.  he is styled Earl of Hereford; and indeed, as it seems, had large dominion over 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 Earls of those times had for granting releasing, or imposing liberties and exactions, which since only the Crown hath, as unseparably, annexed to it. Nay, since the Normans, I find that 
e Malmes● de gest. reg. 3.  William Fitz-Osbern, Earl of Hereford, made a law in his County, 
* That no Knight should be am●rcied above VII. shillings.  ut Nullus miles pro qualicúnque commisso plus septem solidis soluat, which was observed without Controversy, in malmesbury's time; and I have seen original letters of Protection (a perfect and uncommunicable power Royal) by that great Prince Richard Earl of Poiteer and Cornwall, brother to Hen. III. sent to the Shirif of Rutland, for & in behalf of a Nunnery about Stanford: and it is well known, that his successor Edmund left no small tokens of such supremacy in Constitutions liberties, and imposed Subsidies in the Stannaries of Cornwall; with more such like extant in Monuments. But whatsoever their power heretofore was, I think, it then ceased with that 
f Lib. vetust. Monast. de Bell● ap. Camd.  custom of their having the third part of the King's profit in the County, which was also in the Saxon times usual, as appears in that; 
Lib. Domes day in Scacc●●●. Third part of the Counties profits to the 〈◊〉. See to the XI.  In Ipswich Regina Edena II. parts habuit & Comes Guert tertiam; Norwich reddebat XX. libras Regi, & Comiti X. libras: Of the Borough of Lewes; its profits erant II. parts Regis, tertia Comitis; & Oxford reddebat Regi XX. libras, & sex sextarios mellis, Comiti verò Algaro X. libras. And under K. jobn, Geffrey Fitz-Peeter, Earl of Essex, and William le Martial Earl of Striguil, 
* Had rule or their Counties. & v. 10. Carno●●ns Epist. 263. N●●o Vicecouat● Ellexiae.  Administrationem suorum Comitatuum habebant, saith Hoveden. But Time hath, with other parts of Government, altered all this to what we now use.  
A witness of that day we won upon the Danes.  
He means Rollritch stones in the Confines of Warwick and Oxfordshire; of which the vulgar there have a fabulous tradition, that they are an army of Men, and I know not what Great General amongst them, converted into Stones: 
Inquisition in the Norman Story, partly touched to th'. IV. Canto.  a tale not having his superior in the rank of vntruth's. But (upon the conceit of a most learned Man) the Muse refers is to some battle of the Danes, about time of Rollo's piracy and incursion, and for her Country takes the better side (as justifiable as the contrary) in affirming the day to the English. But, to suppose this a Monument of that battle, fought at Hochnorton, seems to me in matter of certainty, not very probable: I mean, being drawn from Rollo's name: of whose Story, both for a passage in the last Song, and here, permit a short examination. The Norman 
h Guil. Gemeta●ens de Ducib. Norm 2. cap. 4. & seqq Thom. de W●lsingham in Hypodig. Neust. secundum quos. in quantum ed Chronologiean rationem spectas, plerique alij.  tradition is, that lie, with divers other Danes transplanting themselves, as well for dissension twixt him and his King, as for new seat of habitation, arrived here, had some skirmishes with the English, defending their territories; and soon afterward being admonished in a Dream, aided and advised by K. Athelstan, entered Seine in France; wasted and won part of it about Paris, Baieux, elsewhere; returned upon request by Embassage to assist the English King against Rebels; and afterward in the year DCCCC. XI. or XII. received 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 have, according to the credit of the Story, touched 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. or near that point? Neither is any concordance twixt Athelstan and this Charles, whose Kingdom was taken from him by Rodulph D. of Burgundy, II. years before our K. Edward I. (of the Saxons) died. In the ninth year of whose reign, falling under DCCCC. VI. was that battle of Hochnorten; so that, unless the name of Athelstan be mistake for this Edward, or, be wanting to the Dominical year of those XXII. of the Dionysian calculation (whereof to the IV. Song) I see no means to make their Story stand with itself, nor our Monks; in whom (most of them writing about the Norman times) more mention would have been of Rollo, ancestor to the Conqueror, and his acts here, had they known any certainty of his name or wars: which I rather guess to have been in our Maritime parts, than Inlands, unless when (if that were at all) he assisted K. Athelstan. Read Frodoard, and the old Annals of France, written nearer the supposed times, and you will scarce find him to have been, or else thereunder 
i Ita quidam apud P. Emilius hist. ●ranc.; quem de hac re vide, & Polydor. eiusdem sequacem Hist. 5.  some other name; as Godfrey, which some have conjectured, to be the same with Rollo. You may see in Aenilius what uncertainties if not contrarieties, were, in Norman traditions of this matter; and, I make no question, but of that unknown Nation so much mistaking hath been of names and times, that scarce any undoubted truth therein now can justify itself. For, observe but what is here delivered, and compare it with 
k Floren. Wigorn. pag. 335. & Roger. Hoveden. part. 1. sol. 241.  them which say in DCCC.XCVIII. Rollo was overthrown at Charters by Richard Duke of Burgundy, and Ebal Earl of Poiteer, assisting Walzelm Bishop of that City; &, my question is, Where have you hope of Reconciliation? Except only in Equivocation of name; for plainly Hastings, Godfrey, Hrorne 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 reported, that 
m Frodoard. Presbyt. Annal. Franc.  Robert Earl of Paris, and in some sort a King twixt Charles and Rodulph, gave to certain Normans that had entered the Land at L●ire (they first 
n Reicherspergens.  entered there in clo. CCC.LIII.) all Little Bretagne and Nan●s, and this in DCCCC. XXII. which agrees, with that gift of the same tract to Rollo by Charles, little better than 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 received truth: which is, that Charles was (by marriage with 
* Oginis dicta P. Aemilio.  Edgith of the English Kings loins) son in law to Edward, and brother in law to Athelstan, in whose 
o Membran. Vetust. Caenob. Floriacens. edit. a P. Pithaeo.  protection here Lewes (afterward the IV.) was, while Roldulph of Burgundy held the Crown. For that unmannerly homage also, spoken of to the IV. Song by one of Rollo's Knights, it is reported by Malmesbury and others, to be done by Rollo himself; and, touching that Egidia wife to Rollo, the judicious French Historiographer P. Emilius (from whom the Italian Polydore had many odd pieces of his best context) tells clearly, that she was daughter to Lothar K. of Romans, and given by his cousin Charles the Gross, to Godfrey King of Normans, with Westrich (that is Neustria) about DCCC. LXXX.VI. and imagines that the Norman Historians were deceived by equivocation of name, mistaking Charles the Simple for Charles the Gross, living near one time; as also that they finding Egidia a King's daughter (being indeed Lothar's) supposed her Charles the Simple's. This makes me think also that of Godfrey and Rollo, hath been like confusion of name. But both Times, Reigns and Persons are so disturbed in the Stories, that being insufficient to rectify the Contrarieties, I leave you to the liberty of common report.    

  

The fourteenth Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
Her sundry strains the Muse to prove,  
Now sings of homely Country love;  
What moan th'old Herdsman Clent doth make,  
For his coy Wood-Nymph Feckn'hams' sake;  
And, how the Nymphs each other greet,  
When Avon and brave Severne meet.  
The Vale of Eusham then doth tell,  
How far the Vales do Hills excel.  
Ascending, next, fair Cotswolds Plains,  
She revels with the shepherds swains;  
And sends the dainty Nymphs away,  
'Gainst Tame and Isis Wedding day.  
AT length, attained those Lands that South of Severne lie,  
As to the varying Earth the Muse doth her apply,  
Poor Sheephook and plain Goad, she many times doth sound:  
Then in a Buskined strain she instantly doth bound.  
Smooth as the lowly stream, she softly now doth glide:  
And with the Mountains strait contendeth in her pride.  
Now back again I turn, the Land with me to take,  
From the Staffordian heaths as 
* Running by Sturbridge in Worstershire, towards Severne.  Stour her course doth make.  
Which Clent, from his proud top, contentedly doth view:  
But yet the aged Hill, immoderately doth rue  
His loved Feckn'hams fall, and doth her state bemoan;  
To please his amorous eye, whose like the world had none.  
For, from her very youth, he (than an aged Hill)  
Had to that Forrest-Nymph a special liking still:  
The least regard of him who never seems to take,  
But suffereth in herself for Salwarp's only sake;  
And on that River dotes, as much as Clent on her.  
Now, when the Hill perceived, the Flood she would prefer,  
All pleasure he forsakes; that at the full-bagd Cow,  
Or at the curle-faced Bull, when venting he doth low,  
Or at th'unhappy wags, which let their cattle stray,  
At Nine-holes on the heath whilst they together play,  
He never seems to smile; nor ever taketh keep  
To hear the harmless Swain pipe to his grazing sheep:  
Nor to the Carters tune, in whistling to his Team;  
Nor lends his listening ear (once) to the ambling Stream,  
That in the evening calm against the stones doth rush  
With such a murmuring noise, as it would seem to hush  
The silent Meads asleep; but, void of all delight,  
remedilessly drowned in sorrow day and night,  
Nor Licky his Ally and neighbour doth respect:  
And therewith being charged, thus answereth in effect;  
That 
d The Lickey, supposed to be the highest ground of this I'll not being a Mountain.  Lickey to his height seemed slowly but to rise,  
And that in length and breadth he all extended lies,  
Nor doth likes other hills to sudden sharpness mount,  
That of their kingly kind they scarce can him accounted;  
Though by his swelling soil set in so high a place,  
That Malverns mighty self he seemeth to outface.  
Whilst Clent and Licky thus, do both express their pride,  
As Salwarpe slips along by Feck'nhams shady side,  

The Salt Fountain of Worcestershire.  That Forest him affects in wandering to the Wych:  
But he, himself by Salts there seeking to enrich,  
His Feck'nham quite forgets; from all affection free.  
But she, that to the Flood most constant means to be,  
More prodigally gives her woods to those strong fires  
Which boil the source to Salts. Which Clent so much admires,  
That love, and her disdain, to madness him provoke:  
When to the Wood-Nymph thus the jealous Mountain spoke;  
Fond Nymph, thy twisted curls, on which were all my care,  
Thou lettest the Furnace waste; that miserably bore  
I hope to see thee left, which so dost me despise;  
Whose beauties many a morn have blest my longing eyes:  
And, till the weary Sun sunk down unto the West,  
Thou still my object waste, thou once my only best,  
The time shall quickly come, thy Groves and pleasant Springs,  
Where to the mirthful Merle the warbling Mavis sings,  
The painful labourers hand shall stock the roots, to burn;  
The branch and body spent, yet could not serve his turn.  
Which when, most wilful Nymph, thy chance shall be to see,  
Too late thou shalt repent thy small regard of me.  
But Saltwarpe down from Wyche his nimbler feet doth ply,  
Great Severne to attend, along to Teuksbury,  
With others to partake the joy that there is seen,  
When beauteous Avon comes unto her sovereign 
e Severne.  Queen.  
here down from eusham's Vale, their greatness to attend,  
Comes Swilliat sweeping in, which Cotsall down doth send:  
And Garran there arrives, the great recourse to see.  
Where thus together met, with most delightful glee,  
The cheerful Nymphs that haunt the Valley rank and low  
(Where full Pomona seems most plenteously to flow,  
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 perry brought:  
Where, to each others health past many a deep-fetched draft,  
And many a sound Carouse from friend to friend doth go,  
Thus whilst the mellowed Earth with her own juice doth flow,  
Inflamed with excess the lusty pampered Vale,  
In praise of her great self, thus frames her glorious tale;  
I doubt not but some Vale enough for us hath said,  
To answer them that most with baseness us vpbrayed;  
Those high presumptuous Hills, which bend their utmost might,  
Us only to deject, in their inveterate spite:  
But I would have them think, that I (which am the Queen  
Of all the British Vales, and so have ever been  
Since gomer's Giant-brood inhabited this Isle,  
And that of all the rest, myself may so enstyle)  
Against the highest Hill dare put myself for place,  
That ever threatened Heaven with the austerest face.  
And for our praise, than thus; What Fountain send they forth  
(That finds a rivers name, though of the smallest worth)  
But it invales itself, and on it either side  
Doth make those fruitful Meads, which with their painted pride  
Imbroader his proud Bank? whilst in lascivious Gires  
He swiftly sallieth out, and suddenly retires  
In sundry works and trails, now shallow, and then deep,  
Searching the spacious shores, as though it meant to sweep  
Their sweets with it away, with which they are replete.  
And men, first building Towns, themselves did wisely seat  
Still in the bounteous Vale: whose burdened Pasture bears  
The most abundant swath, whose Glebe such goodly cares,  
As to the weighty sheaf with sith or sickle cut,  
When as his hardened hand the Labourer comes to put,  
Sinks him in his own sweat, which it but hardly wields:  
And on the Corne-strewed Lands, then in the stubble fields,  
There feed the Herds of Neat, by them the Flocks of Sheep,  
Seeking the scattered Corn upon the ridges steep:  
And in the furrow by (where Ceres lies much spilled)  
Th'unwieldy larding Swine his maw then having filled,  
Lies wallowing in the mire, thence able scarce to rise.  
When as those monstrous Hills so much that us despise  
(The Mountain, which forsooth the lowly Valley mocks)  
Have nothing in the world upon their barren Rocks,  
But greedy clambering Goats, and Coneys, banished quite  
From every fertile place; as Rascals, that delight  
In base and barren plots, and at good earth repine.  
And though in Winter we to moisture much incline,  
Yet those that be our own, and dwell upon our Land,  
When twixt their burly Stacks, and full-stuft Barns they stand,  
Into the softer Clay as easily they do sink,  
Pluck up their heavy feet, with lighter spirits, to think  
That Autumn shall produce, to recompense their toil,  
A rich and goodly crop from that unpleasant soil.  
And from that envious Foe which seeks us to deprave,  
Though much against his will this good we clearly have,  
We still are highly praised, and honoured by his height,  
For, who will us surveyed, their clear and judging sight  
May see us thence at full: which else the searchingst eye,  
By reason that so flat and levelied we lie,  
Could never thoroughly view, ourselves nor could we show.  
Yet more; what lofty Hills to humble Valleys owe,  
And what high grace they have which near to us are placed,  
In 
* A Hill environed on every side with the Vale of Eusham.  Breedon may be seen, being amorously embraced  
In cincture of mine arms. Who though he do not vaunt  
His head like those that look as they would Heaven supplant:  
Yet let them wisely note, in what excessive pride  
He in my bosom sits; while him on every side  
With my delicious sweets and delicates I trim.  
And when great Malvern looks most terrible and grim,  
He with a pleased brow continually doth smile.  
here Breedon, having heard his praises all the while,  
Grew insolently proud; and doth upon him take  
Such state, as he would seem but small account to make  
Of Malvern, or of Mein. So that the wiser Vale,  
To his instruction turns the process of her tale.  
T'avoid the greater's wrath, and shun the meaners hate,  
Quoth she, take my advice, abandon idle state;  
And by that way I go, do thou thy course contrive:  
Give others leave to vaunt, and let us closely thrive.  
Whilst idly but for place the lofty mountains toil,  
Let us have store of grain, and quantity of soil.  
To what end serve their tops (that seem to threat the sky).  
But to be rend with storms? whilst we in safety lie.  
Their Rocks but barren be, and they which rashly climb,  
Stand most in Envies sight, the fairest prey for Time.  
And when the lowly Vales are clad in summers green,  
The grisled Winter's snow upon their heads is seen.  
Of all the Hills I know, let Mein thy pattern be:  
Who though his site be such as seems to equal thee,  
And destitute of naught that Arden him can yield;  
Nor of th'especial grace of many a goodly field;  
Nor of dear Clifford's seat (the place of health and sport)  
Which many a time hath been the Muse's quiet Port.  
Yet brags not he of that, nor of himself esteems  
The more for his fair site; but richer than he seems,  
Clad in a gown of Grass, so soft and wondrous warm,  
As him the summers heat, nor Winter's cold can harm.  
Of whom I well may say, as I may speak of thee;  
From either of your tops, that who beholdeth me,  
To Paradise may think a second he had found,  
If any like the first were ever on the ground.  
Her long and zealous speech thus Eusham doth conclude:  
When strait the active Muse industriously pursued  
This noble Country's praise, as matter still did rise.  
For Gloster in times past herself did highly prize,  
When in her pride of strength she nourished goodly Vines,  
§. And oft her cares repressed with her delicious Wines.  
But, now th'All-cheering Sun the colder soil deceives,  
§. And us (here towards the Pole) still falling southward leaves:  
So that the sullen earth th'effect thereof doth prove;  
According to their Books, who hold that he doth move  
From his first Zeniths point; the cause we feel his want.  
But of her Vines deprived, now Gloster learns to plant  
The Peartree every where: whose fruit she strains for juice,  
That her purest perry is, which first she did produce  
From Worstershire, and there is common as the fields;  
Which naturally that soil in most abundance yields.  
But the laborious Muse, which still new work assays,  
Here sallyeth through the slades, where beauteous Severne plays,  
Until that River gets her Gloster's wished sight:  
Where, she her stream divides, that with the more delight  
She might behold the Town, of which she's wondrous proud:  
Then takes she in the from, than Cam, and next the Strewed,  
As thence upon her course she wanton doth strain.  
Supposing then herself a Sea-god by her train,  
She Neptune-like doth float upon the bracky Marsh.  
Where, lest she should become too cumbersome and harsh,  
Fair Micklewood (a Nymph, long honoured for a Chase,  
Contending to have stood the highest in Severns grace,  
Of any of the Dryad's there bordering on her shore)  
With her cool amorous shades, and all her Sylvan store,  
To please the goodly Flood▪ employs her utmost powers,  
Supposing the proud Nymph might like her woody Bowers.  
But Severne (on her way) so large and headstrong grew,  
That she the Wood-Nymph scorns, and Avon doth pursue;  
A River with no less than goodly Kings-wood crowned,  
A Forest and a Flood by either's fame renowned;  
And each with others pride and beauty much bewitched;  
Besides, with bristol state both wondrously enriched.  
Which soon to Severne sent th'report of that fair Road  

Kings Road.  (So burdened still with Barks, as it would over-load  
Great Neptune with the weight) whose fame so far doth ring.  
When as that mighty Flood, most bravely flourishing,  
Like Thetis goodly self, majestically glides;  
Upon her spacious breast tossing the surgefull Tides,  
To have the River see the state to which she grows,  
And how much to her Queen the beauteous Avon owes.  
But, noble Muse, proceed immediately to tell  
How Eusham's fertile Vale at first in liking fell  
With Cotsall, that great King of Shepherds: whose proud site  
When that fair Vale first saw, so nourished her delight,  
That him she only loved: for wisely she beheld  
The beauties clean throughout that on his surface dwelled:  

A nice description of Cotsall.  Of just and equal height two banks arising, which  
Grew poor (as it should seem) to make some Valley rich:  
Betwixt them thrusting out an Elbow of such height,  
As shrouds the lower soil; which, shadowed from the light,  
Shoots forth a little Grove, that in the summers day  
Invites the Flocks, for shade that to the Covert stray.  
A Hill there holds his head, as though it told a tale,  
Or stooped to look down, or whisper with a Vale;  
Where little purling winds like wantoness seem to dally,  
And skip from Bank to Bank, from Valley trip to Valley.  
Such sundry shapes of soil where Nature doth devise,  
That she may rather seem fantastical, then wise.  
Whom Sarum's Plain gives place: though famous for her Flocks,  
Yet hardly doth she tithe our Cotswolds wealth locks.  
Though Lemster him exceed for fineness of her over,  
Yet quite he puts her down for his abundant store.  
A match so fit as he, contenting to her mind,  
Few Vales (as I suppose) like Eusham happed to find:  
Nor any other Would, like Cotsall ever sped,  
So fair and rich a Vale by fortuning to wed.  
He hath the goodly Wool, and she the wealth Grain:  
Through which they wisely seem their household to maintain.  
He hath pure wholesome Air, and dainty crystal Springs.  
To those delights of his, she daily profit brings:  
As to his large expense, she multiplies her heaps:  
Nor can his Flocks devour th'abundance that she reaps;  
As th'one with what it hath, the other strove to grace.  
And, now that every thing may in the proper place  
Most aptly be contrived, the Sheep our Wold doth breed  
(The simplest though it seem) shall our description need,  
And Shepheard-like, the Muse thus of that kind doth speak;  
No brown, nor sullied black the face or legs doth streak,  
Like those of Mor●land, Cank, or of the Cambrian hills  
That lightly laden are: but Cotsall wisely fills  
Her with the whitest kind: whose brows so woolly be,  
As men in her fair Sheep no emptiness should see.  
The Staple deep and thick, through, to the very grain,  
Most strongly keepeth out the violentest rain:  
A body long and large, the buttocks equal broad;  
As fit to undergo the full and weighty load.  
And of the fleecy face, the flank doth nothing lack,  
But everywhere is stored; the belly, as the back.  
The fair and goodly Flock, the shepherds only pride,  
As white as Winter's snow, when from the rivers side  
He drives his new-washt Sheep; or on the shearing day,  
When as the lusty Ram, with those rich spoils of May  
His crooked horns hath crowned; the bellwether, so brave  
As none in all the Flock they like themselves would have.  
But Muse, return to tell, how there the shepherds King,  
Whose Flock hath chanced that year the earliest Lamb to bring,  
In his gay Bauldrick sits at his low grassy Board,  
With Flawns, Curds, Clowted-creame, and Country dainties stored:  
And, whilst the Bagpipe plays, each lusty jocund Swain  
Quaffes Sillibubs in Khans, to all upon the Plain,  
And to their Country-Girles, whose Nosegays they do wear.  
Some Roundelays do sing: the rest, the burden bear.  
But Cotsall, 
The fountain of Thames, rising in the South of Cotsall.  be this spoke to th'only praise of thee,  
That thou of all the rest, the chosen soil shouldst be,  
Fair Isis to bring-forth (the Mother of great Tames)  
With those delicious Brooks, by whose immortal streams  
Her greatness is begun: so that our rivers King,  
When he his long Descent shall from his Bel-sires bring,  
Must needs (Great Pastures Prince) derive his stem by thee,  
From kingly Cotswolds self, sprung of the third degree:  
As th'old world's Heroës wont, that in the times of yore,  
On Neptune, jove, and Mars, themselves so highly bore.  
But easily from her source as Isis gently dades;  
Unto her present aid, down through the deeper slades,  
The nimbler footed Churn, by Cisseter doth slide;  
And first at Greeklade gets pre-eminence, to guide  
Queen Isis on her way, ere she receive her train.  
Clear Colne, and lively Leech, so down from Cotswolds plain,  
At Leechlade linking hands, come likewise to support  
The Mother of great Tames. When, seeing the resort,  
From Cotsall Windrush scours; and with herself doth cast  
The Train to overtake, and therefore hies her fast  
Through the Oxfordian fields; when (as the last of all  
Those Floods, that into Tames out of our Cotsall fall,  
And farth'st unto the North) bright Enload forth doth bear.  
For, though it had been long, at length she came to hear  
That Isis was to Tame in wedlock to be tied:  
And therefore she prepared t'attend upon the Bride;  
Expecting, at the Feast, past ordinary grace.  
And being near of kin to that most Springful place,  
Where out of Blockleys banks so many Fountains flow,  
That clean throughout his soil proud Cotsall cannot show  
The like: as though from far, his long and many Hills,  
There emptied all their veins, wherewith those Founts he fills,  
Which in the greatest drought so brimful still do float,  
Sent through the rifted Rocks with such an open throat,  
As though the Cleeves consumed in humour; they alone,  
So crystalline and cold, as hardeneth stick to stone.  
But whilst this while we talk, the far divulged fame  
Of this great Bridal towered, in Phoebus' mighty name  
Doth bid the Muse make haste, and to the Bridehouse speed;  
Of her attendance there lest they should stand in need.  

Illustrations.  

* Permitted Vines to the Gauls, Spaniards & Britons, and leave to make Wines.  SOmewhat returning now near the way you descended from the Northern parts, the Muse leads you through that part of Worcestershire, which is on this side Severne, and the neighbouring Stafford, viewing also Cotteswold, and so Gloucester. The fictions of this Song are not so convert, nor the allusions so difficult, but that I presume your conceit, for the most part, willingly discharges my labour.  
And of her cares repressed with her delicious wines.  
In this tract of Glocestershire (where to this day many places are styled Vineyards) was of ancient time among other fruits of a fertile soil, great store of Vines▪ and more than in any other place of the Kingdom. Now in many parts of this Realm we have some: but what comes of them in the Press is scarce worth respect. Long since, the Emperor 
a Fla●. Vopiscus in eiusd. vitâ.  Probus 
* A soil fruitful enough, except of Olives & Vines, which are for not●er climates.  Gallis omnibus & Hispanis ac Britannis permisit ut vites haberent vinúmque consicerent: But 
b In jul. Agrico●a.  Tacitus, before that, speaking of this Island commends it with 
* One Park & ●ixe Arpens of Vineyard, ●nd brings forth some XX. firkins of Wine, if the year prove well.  Solum praeter Oleam vitémque & caetera calidioribus terris oriri sueta, patience frugum, foecundum. Long since Probus, England had its Vineyards also, & some store of Wine, as appears by that in doomsday, 
* One Park & ●ixe Arpens of Vineyard, ●nd brings forth some XX. firkins of Wine, if the year prove well.  unus & Parcus & VI Arpenni Vineae (that is between V. and VI Acres; Arpent in French signifying a Content of ground of C. Rods square, every Rod XVIII. foot) & reddit XX. medios uni si benè procedit, being recorded of a place 
c Camd. in Trinobantibus.  by Ralegh in Essex. This was under William I: and since him in time of Hen. I 
d Malmesb. de Pontificum gestis 4.  much Wine was made herein Glocestershire. That now the Isle enjoys not frequency of this benefit, as in old time, whether it be through the soils old age, and so like a woman growing sterile (as 
e Ap. Columell. de re Rustic. 2. cap. 1.  in another kind Tremellius many hundred years since thought) or by reason of the earth's change of place, as upon difference in Astronomical observations Stadius guest, or that some part of singular influence, whereon Astrology hangs most of inferior qualities, is altered by that slow course (yet of great power in alteration of Heavens System) of the eight Sphere (or pr●cession of the equinoctial) or by reason of industry wanting in the Husbandman, I leave it to others examination.  
— still falling Southward leaves.  
He alludes to the difference of the Zodiaques obliquity from what it was of old. For, in Ptolemies time about M.CD.LX years since the utmost Declination of the Sun in the I. of Cancer (where she is nearest to our Vertical point) was XXIII. Gr. and about LII. Minut. since that, 
c Copernic. Re. 3. cap. 3.  Albategin (about Charlemaine's time) observed it some XV. Scruples less: after him (near M. of Christ) Arzacheld found it XXIII. Gr. XXXIV. Scr. and in this later age john of Comigs-burg and Copernicus brought it to XXIII. Gr. XXVIII. Scrup. which concord's also with the Prutenique account, and as many as thence traduce their Ephemerideses. So that (by this calculation) about XXIIII. minutes the Sun comes not now so near our Zenith, as it did in Ptolemies time. But in truth (for in these things I account that truth, which is warranted by most accurate Observation; and those learned Mathematicians, by omitting of Paralax and Refractions, deceived themselves and posterity) and declination in this age is XXIII. Gr. XXXI. Scrup. and ½ as that Noble Dane, and most Honoured Restorer of Astronomical Motions, Tyche Brahe, hath taught us: which, although it be greater than that of Copernicus and his followers; yet is much less than what is in Ptoleme; and by two Scruples different from Arzachels, so justifying the Author's conceit, supposing the cause of our Climates not now producing Wines, to be the suns declination from us, which for every Scruple answers in earth, about one of our Miles; but a far more large distance in the Celestial Globe. I can as well maintain this high-fetcht cause, being upon difference of so few minutes in one of the slowest motions (and we see that greatest effects are always attributed to them, as upon the old conceit of the Platonique year, abridged into near his half by Copernicus, those consequents foretold upon the change of 
f Cardan. ad 2. Tetrabibl. & de Varietat. Rer. 2. qui prophanè nimiùm, à Motibus Octavae Sphaerae, iis scilicet quos circa M.DCCC. contrario velut fieri modo supponit sacrosanctae Religionis mutationem ineptè simul et impiè praedixit, & huius generu sexcenta.  E'ccentriques out of one sign into an other, the Equinoctial praecession, and such like; as others may their conversion of a Planets state into Fortunate, Oppressed or Combust, by measuring or missing their XVI. Scruples of Cazimi, their Orbs moieties, and such curiosities. Neither can you salve the effect of this declination, by the Suns much nearer approach to the earth, upon that decrease of his Eccentricity which Copernicus and his followers have published. For, admitting that were true, yet judicial Astrology relies more upon Aspect and beams falling on us with Angles (which are much altered by this change of Obliquity in the zodiac) than distance of every singular star from the Earth. But indeed, upon mistaking the Poles altitude, and other error in Observation, 
* Cui, hoc nomine, gravitèr minitatus est jul. Scal●g Exercitat. 90 sect. 2.  Copernicus was deceived, and in this present age the suns Eccentricity (in Ptolemy, being the XXIV. of the Eccentriques' semidiameter, divided into LX.) hath been 
g Tycho Brahein Progym asm.  found between the XXVII. and XXVIII. P. which is far greater than that in Copernicus, erroneously making it but near the XXXI. But this is too heavenly a language for the common Reader▪ and perhaps too late I leave it.    

  

The fifteenth Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
The guests here to the Bridehouse high.  
The goodly Vale of Al'sbury  
Sets her son (Tame) forth, brave as May,  
Upon the joyful Wedding day:  
Who, decked up, towards his Bride is gone.  
So lovely Isis coming on,  
At Oxford all the Muses meet her,  
And with a Prothalamion greet her.  
The Nymphs are in the Bridal Bowers,  
Some strowing sweets, some sorting flowers:  
Where lusty Charwell himself raises,  
And sings of Rivers, and their praises.  
Then Tames his way towered Windsor tends.  
Thus, with the Song, the Marriage ends.  
NOw Fame had through this I'll divulged, in every ear,  
The long-expected day of Marriage to be near, 
Tame, arising in the Vale of Alsbury, at the foot of the Chilterne.   
That Isis, Cotswolds heir, long wooed was lastly won,  
And instantly should wed with Tame, old Chiltern's son.  
And now that woodman's wife, the mother of the Flood,  
The rich and goodly Vale of Alsbury, that stood  
So much upon her Tame, was busied in her Bowers,  
Preparing for her son, as many suits of Flowers,  
As Cotsall for the Bride, his Isis, lately made;  
Who for the lovely Tame, her Bridegroom, only stayed.  
Whilst every crystal Flood is to this business priest,  
The cause of their great speed and many thus request;  
O! whither go ye Floods? what sudden wind doth blow,  
Then other of your kind, that you so fast should flow?  
What business is in hand, that spurs you thus away?  
Fair Windrush let me hear, I pray thee Charwell say:  
They suddenly reply, What lets you should not see  
That for this Nuptial feast we all prepared be?  
Therefore this idle chat our ears doth but offend:  
Our leisure serves not now these trifles to attend.  
But whilst things are in hand, old Chiltern (for his life)  
From prodigal expense can no way keep his wife;  
Who feeds her Tame with Marle, in Cordiall-wise prepared,  
And thinks all idly spent, that now she only spared  
In setting forth her son: nor can she think it well,  
Unless her lavish charge do Cotswold's far excel.  

The richness of the Vale of Alsbury.  For, Alsbury's a Vale that walloweth in her wealth,  
And (by her wholesome air continually in health)  
Is lusty, frim, and fat, and holds her youthful strength.  
Besides her fruitful earth, her mighty breadth and length,  
Doth Chiltern fitly match: which mountainously high,  
And being very long, so likewise she 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 soil throughout so sure,  
For goodness of her Glebe, and for her Pasture pure,  
That as her Grain and Grass, so she her Sheep doth breed,  
For burden and for bone all other that exceed:  
And she, which thus in wealth abundantly doth flow,  
Now cares not on her Child what cost she do bestow.  

The Chiltern-Country beginning also to want wood.  Which when wise Chiltern saw (the world who long had tried,  
And now at last had laid all garish pomp aside;  
Whose hoar and chalky head descried him to be old,  
His Beechen woods bereft that kept him from the cold)  
Would fain persuade the Vale to hold a steady rate;  
And with his curious Wife, thus wisely doth debate:  
Quoth he, you might allow what needeth, to the most:  
But where as less will serve, what means this idle cost?  
Too much, a surfeit breeds, and may our Child annoy:  
These fat and luscious meats do but our stomachs cloy.  
The modest comely mean, in all things likes the wise,  
Apparel often shows us womanish precise.  
And what will Cotsall think when he shall hear of this?  
he'll rather blame your waste, then praise your cost iwiss.  
But, women wilful be, and she her will must have,  
Nor cares how Chiltern chides, so that her Tame be brave.  

That Ouze arising near Brackley, running into the Germane Sea.  Alone which towards his Love she easily doth convey:  
For the Oxonian Ouze was lately sent away  
From Buckingham, where first he finds his nimbler feet;  
Towards Whittlewood then takes: where, past the noblest 
* Watling.  Street,  
He to the Forest gives his farewell, and doth keep  
His course directly down into the Germane Deep,  
To publish that great day in mighty Neptune's Hall,  
That all the Sea-gods there might keep it festival.  
As we have told how Tame holds on his even course,  
Return we to report, how Isis from her source  
Comes tripping with delight, down from her daintier Springs;  
And in her princely train, 
rivers arising in Cotsall, spoke of in the former Song.  t'attend her Marriage, brings  
Clear Churnet, Colne, and Leech, which first she did retain,  
With Windrush: and with her (all outrage to restrain  
Which well might offered be to Isis as she went)  
Came Yenload with a guard of satires, which were sent  
From Whichwood, to await the bright and Godlike Dame.  
So, Bernwood did bequeath his satires to the Tame,  
For Sticklers in those stirs that at the Feast should be.  
These preparations great when Charwell comes to see,  
To Oxford got before, to entertain the Flood,  
Apollo's aid he begs, with all his sacred brood,  
To that most learned place to welcome her repair.  
Who in her coming on, was waxed so wondrous fair,  
That meeting, strife arose betwixt them, whether they  
Her beauty should extol, or she admire their 
p Laurel for Learning.  Bay.  
On whom their several gifts (to amplify her dower)  
The Muses there bestow; which ever have the power  
Immortal her to make. And as she passed along,  
Those modest 
q The Muses.  Thespian Maids thus to their Isis' song;  
Ye Daughters of the Hills, come down from every side,  
And due attendance give upon the lovely Bride:  
Go strew the paths with flowers by which she is to pass.  
For be ye thus assured, in Albion never was  
A beauty (yet) like hers: where have ye ever seen  
So absolute a Nymph in all things, for a Queen?  
Give instantly in charge the day b● wondrous fair,  
That no disordered blast attempt her braided hair.  
Go, see her State prepared, and every thing be fit,  
The Bride-chamber adorned with all beseeming it.  
And for the princely Groom, who ever yet could name  
A Flood that is so fit for Isis as the Tame?  
Ye both so lovely are, that knowledge scarce can tell,  
For feature whether he, or beauty she excel:  
That ravished with joy each other to behold,  
When as your crystal wastes you closely do enfold,  
Betwixt your beauteous selves you shall beget a Son,  
That when your lives shall end, in him shall be begun.  
The pleasant Surryan shores shall in that Flood delight,  
And Kent esteem herself most happy in his sight.  
The Shire that London loves, shall only him prefer,  
And give full many a gift to hold him near to her.  
The 
r They all three, Rivers, of greatest note in the Lower Germany, cast themselves into the Ocean, in the Coast opposite to the mouth of Thames.  Skeld, the goodly Mose, the rich and Viny Rhine,  
Shall come to meet the Thames in Neptune's watery Plain.  
And all the Belgian Streams and neighbouring Floods of Gaul,  
Of him shall stand in awe, his tributaries all.  
As of fair Isis thus, the learned Virgins spoke,  
A shrill and sudden brute this 
h Marriage Song.  Prothalamion broke;  
That White-horse, for the love she bore to her Ally,  
And honoured sister Vale, the bounteous Alsbury,  
Sent Presents to the Tame by Ock her only Flood,  
Which for his Mother Vale, so much on greatness stood.  
From Oxford, Isis hasts more speedily, to see  
That River like his birth might entertained be:  
For, that ambitious Vale, still striving to command,  
And using for her place continually to stand,  
Proud White-horse to persuade, much business there hath been  
T'acknowledge that great Vale of Eusham for her Queen.  
And but that Eusham is so opulent and great,  
That thereby she herself holds in the sovereign seat,  
This 
i White-horse striveth for sovereignty with all the Vales of Britain.  White-horse all the Vales of Britain would o'er bear,  
And absolutely sit in the imperial Chair;  
And boasts as goodly Herds, and numerous Flocks to seed;  
To have as soft a Glebe, as good increase of seed;  
As pure and fresh an air upon her face to flow,  
As Eusham for her life: and from her Steed doth show,  
Her lusty rising Downs, as fair a prospect take  
As that imperious 
* Cotsall.  Wold: which her great Queen doth make  
So wondrously admired, and her so far extend.  
But, to the Marriage, hence, industrious Muse descend.  
The Naïads, and the Nymphs extremely overjoyed,  
And on the winding banks all busily employed,  
Upon this joyful day, some dainty Chaplets twine:  
Some others chosen out, with fingers neat and fine,  
Brave 
k Crowns of Flowers.  Anadems do make: some Bauldricks up do bind:  
Some, Garlands: and to some, the Nosegays were assigned;  
As best their skill did serve. But, for that Tame should be  
Still manlike as himself, therefore they will that he  
Should not be dressed with Flowers, to Gardens that belong  

Flowers of the Meadows and Pastures.  (His Bride that better fit) but only such as sprung  
From the replenished Meads, and fruitful Pastures near.  
To sort which Flowers, some sit; some making Garlands were;  
The Primrose placing first, because that in the Spring  
It is the first appears, then only flourishing;  
The azur'd Harebell next, with them, they neatly mixed:  
T'allay whose luscious smell, they Woodbine placed betwixt.  
Amongst those things of sent, there prick they in the Lily:  
And near to that again, her sister Daffodil.  
To sort these Flowers to show, with th'other that were sweet,  
The Cowslip than they couch, and th'Oxslip, for her meet:  
The Columbine amongst they sparingly do set,  
The yellow King-cup, wrought in many a curious fret,  
And now and then among, of Eglantine a spray,  
By which again a course of Lady-smocks they lay:  
The Crowflower, and thereby the Clover-flower they stick,  
The daisy, overall those sundry sweets so thick,  
As Nature doth herself; to imitate her right:  
Who seems in that her 
Margarita, is both a Pearl and a Daisy.  pearl so greatly to delight,  
That every Plain therewith she powdreth to behold:  
The crimson Darnell Flower, the Blue-bottle, and Gold:  
Which though esteemed but weeds; yet for their dainty hews,  
And for their scent not ill, they for this purpose choose.  
Thus having told you how the Bridegroom Tame was dressed,  
I'll show you, how the Bride, fair Isis, they invest;  
Sitting to be attired under her Bower of State,  
Which scorns a meaner sort, then fits a Princely rate.  
In 
* Flowers of Gardens.  Anadems for whom they curiously dispose  
The Red, the dainty White, the goodly Damask Rose,  
For the rich Ruby, Pearl, and Amethyst, men place  
In Kings Imperial Crowns, the circle that enchase.  
The brave Carnation then, with sweet and sovereign power  
(So of his colour called, although a july-flower)  
With th'other of his kind, the speckled and the pale:  
Then th'odoriferous Pink, that sends forth such a gale  
Of sweetness; yet in scents, as various as in sorts.  
The purple Violet then, the Pansie there supports:  
The Marigold above t'adorn the arched Bar:  
The double daisy, Thrift, the Button-batcheler,  
Sweet William, Sops in wine, the Campion: and to these,  
Some Lavender they put, with Rosemary and Bays:  
Sweet Marjoram, with her like, sweet Basill rare for smell,  
With many a flower, whose name were now too long to tell:  
And rarely with the rest, the goodly Fower-delice.  
Thus for the nuptial hour, all fitted point-device,  
Whilst some still busied are in decking of the Bride,  
Some others were again as seriously employed  
In strewing of those herbs, at Bridals used that be;  
Which every where they throw with bounteous hands and free. 
Strewing herbs.   
The healthful Balm and Mint, from their full laps do fly,  
The sent-full Camomile, the verdurous Costmary.  
They hot Muscado oft with milder Maudlin cast:  
Strong Tansey, Fennell cool, they prodigally waste:  
Clear Isop, and therewith the comfortable Thyme,  
Germander with the rest, each thing then in her prime;  
As well of wholesome herbs, as every pleasant flower,  
Which Nature here produced, to fit this happy hour.  
Amongst these strewing kinds, some other wild that grow,  
As Burnet, all abroad, and Meadow-wort they throw.  
Thus all things falling out to every one's desire,  
The ceremonies done that Marriage doth require,  
The Bride and Bridegroom set, and served with sundry cates,  
And every other placed, as fitted their estates;  
Amongst this confluence great, wise Charwell here was thought  
The first to cheer the guests: who thoroughly had been taught  
In all that could pertain to Courtship, long agone,  
As coming from his Sire, the fruitful 
A Hill betwixt Norhamptonsh●re and Warwick.  Helidon,  
He traveleth to Tames; where passing by those Towns  
Of that rich Country near, whereas the mirthful clowns,  
With Taber and the pipe, on holidays do use,  
Upon the Maypole green, to trample out their shoes:  
And having in his ears the deep and 
* Famous rings of Bells in Oxfordshire, called the Crossering.  solemn rings,  
Which sound him all the way, unto the 
* Oxford.  learned Springs,  
Where he, his Sovereign Ouze most happily doth meet,  
And him, the thrice-three maids, Apollo's offspring, greet  
With all their sacred gifts: thus, expert being grown  
In music; and besides, a 
A fine Poet.  curious Maker known:  
This Charwell (as I said) the first these Floods among,  
For silence having called, thus to th'assembly song;  
Stand fast ye higher Hills: low valleys easily lie:  
And Forests that to both you equally apply  
(But for the greater part, both wild and barren be)  
Retire ye to your wastes; and Rivers only we,  
Oft meeting let us mix: and with delightful grace,  
Let every beauteous Nymph, her best loved Flood embrace,  
An Alien be he borne, or near to her own Spring,  
So from his native Fount he bravely flourishing,  
Along the flowery Fields, licentiously do strain,  
Greeting each curled grove, and circling every Plain;  
Or hasting to his fall, his sholy gravel scowrs,  
And with his Crystal front, then courts the climbing Towers.  
Let all the world be judge, what Mountain hath a name,  
Like that from whose proud foot, their springs some Flood of Fame:  
And in the Earth's survey, what seat like that is set,  
Whose Streets some ample Stream, abundantly doth wet?  
Where is there Haven found, or Harbour, like that Road,  
Int'which some goodly Flood, his burden doth unload?  
By whose rank swelling Stream, the far-fetched foreign fraught,  
May up to Inland Towns conveniently be brought.  
Of any part of Earth, we be the most renowned;  
That countries very oft, nay, Empires oft we bound.  
As Rubicon, much famed, both for his Fount and Fall,  
The ancient limit held, twixt Italy and 
* That which was called Gallia Cisalpina, and is Lombardy, Romagna and the Western part of Italy.  Gaul.  
Europe and Asia keep on Tanais either side.  
Such honour have we Floods, the World (even) to divide.  
Nay: Kingdoms thus we prove are christened oft by us;  
Iberia takes her name of Crystal Iberus.  
Such reverence to our kind the wiser Ancients gave,  
As they supposed each Flood a Deity to have:  
But with our fame at home return we to proceed.  
In Britanne here we find, our Severne, and our Tweed,  
The tripartited I'll do generally divide,  
To England, Scotland, Wales, as each doth keep her side.  
Trent cuts the Land in two, so equally, as though  
Nature it pointed-out, to our great Brute to show  
How to his mighty Sons the Island he might share.  
A thousand of this kind, and nearer, I will spare;  
Where if the state of Floods, at large I list to show,  
I proudly could report how Pactolus doth throw  
Up grains of perfect gold; and of great Ganges tell,  
Which when full India's showers enforceth him to swell,  
Gilds with his glistering sands the over-pampered shore:  
How wealth Tagus first by tumbling down his ore,  
The rude and slothful Moors of old Iberia taught,  
To search into those hills, from which such wealth he brought.  
Beyond these if I pleased, I to your praise could bring,  
In sacred Tempe, how (about the hoofe-plowed Spring)  
The Heliconian Maids, upon that hallowed ground,  
Recounting heavenly Hymns eternally are crowned.  
And as the earth doth us in her own bowels nourish;  
So every thing, that grows by us, doth thrive and flourish.  
To godly virtuous men, we wisely likened are:  
To be so in themselves, that do not only care;  
But by a sacred power, which goodness doth await,  
Do make those virtuous too, that them associate.  
By this, the wedding ends, and broke up all the Show:  
And Tames, got, borne, and bred, immediately doth flow,  
To Windsor-ward amain (that with a wondering eye,  
The Forest might behold his awful Empery)  
And soon becometh great, with waters waxed so rank,  
That with his wealth he seems to retch his widened Bank:  
Till happily attained his Grandsire Chilterns grounds,  
Who with his Beechen wreaths this king of rivers crowns.  
Amongst his holts and hills, as on his way he makes,  
At Reading once arrived, clear Kennet overtakes:  
Her Lord the stately Tames, which that great flood again,  
With many signs of joy doth kindly entertain.  
Then Loddon next comes in, contributing her store;  
As still we see, The much runs ever to the more.  
Set out with all this pomp, when this Imperial Stream,  
Himself established sees, amidst his watery Realm,  
His much-loved Henly leaves, and proudly doth pursue  
His Wood nymph Windsor's feat, her lovely site to view.  
Whose most delightful face when once the River sees,  
Which shows herself attired in tall and stately trees,  
He in such earnest love with amorous gestures woos,  
That looking still at her, his way was like to lose;  
And wandering in and out so wildly seems to go,  
As headlong he himself into her lap would throw.  
Him with the like desire the Forest doth embrace,  
And with her presence strives her Tames as much to grace.  
No Forest, of them all, so fit as she doth stand.  
When Princes, for their sports, her pleasures will command,  
No Wood-nymph as herself such troops hath ever seen,  
Nor can such Quarries boast as have in Windsor been.  
Nor any ever had so many solemn days;  
So brave assemblies viewed, nor took so rich 
* Breaking up of Dear brought into the Qu●●ry.  assays.  
Then, hand in hand, her Tames the Forest softly brings,  
To that supremest place of the great English Kings,  
§ The Garters Royal seat, from him who did advance  
That Princely Order first, our first that conquered France;  
The Temple of Saint George, whereas his honoured Knights,  
Upon his hallowed day, observe their ancient rites:  
Where Eaton is at hand to nurse that learned brood,  
To keep the Muses still near to this Princely Flood;  
That nothing there may want, to beautify that seat,  
With every pleasure stored: And here my Song complete.  

Illustrations.  
I Shall here be shorter than in the last before. The Muse is so full in herself, employed wholly about the Nuptials of Tame, and Isis. In the Ghirlands of Tame are wreathed most of our English Field-flowers: in them of Isis, our more sweet and those of the Garden; Yet upon that, 
The Garters Royal seat, from him who did advance.   
I cannot but remember the institution, (touched to the IV. Song) of his most honourable Order, dedicated to S. George (in XXIV. Ed. III) it is yearly at this place celebrated by that Noble company of XXVI. Whether the cause were upon the word of Garter given in the French wars among the English, or upon the Queens, or Countess of Salisburies' Garter fallen from her leg, or upon different & more ancient Original whatsoever, know clearly (without unlimited affectation of your Country's glory) that it exceeds in Majesty, honour, and fame, all Chivalrous Orders in the world; and (excepting those of Templars, S. james, Calatrava, Alcantara, and such like other, which were more Religious than Military) hath precedence of Antiquity before the eldest rank of honour, of that kind any where established. The Anunciada (
a V. Aubert. Mir. Orig. Equest. 2. cap. 4. & Sansonim. Orig. de Cavalieri.  instituted by Amades VI Earl of Savoy, about M CCCC. IX. although others have it by Amades IV. and so create it before this of the Garter) and that of the Golden Fleece, by Philip, Duke of Burgundy M. CCCC.XXIX. of S. Michael by Lewes XI. Della Banda, by Alfonso of Spain, & such like, ensued it, as imitating Institutions, after a regard of the far extended fame, worth, and glory of S. George's Knights.    

  

The sixteenth Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
Old Ver, near to Saint Alban, brings  
Watling to talk of ancient things;  
What Verlam was before she fell,  
And many more sad ruins tell.  
Of the four old Imperial Ways,  
The course they held, and too what Seas;  
Of those seven Saxon Kingdoms here,  
Their sites, and how they bounded were.  
Then Pure-vale vaunts her rich estate:  
And Lea bewrays her wretched Fate.  
The Muse, led on with much delight,  
Delivers London's happy site;  
Shows this loose Ages lewd abuse:  
And for this time there stays the Muse.  
THe Bridal of our Tame and Princely Isis' past:  
And Tamesis their son, begot, and waxing fast,  
inviteth Crystal 
The river running by V●bridge and Colbrooke.  Colne his wealth on him to lay,  
Whose beauties had enticed his Sovereign Tames to stay,  
Had he not been enforced, by his unruly train.  
For Brent, a pretty Brook, allures him on again,  
Great London to salute, whose hie-reared Turrets throng  
To gaze upon the Flood, as he doth pass along.  
Now, as the Tames is great, so most transparent Colne  
Feels, with excessive joy, her amorous bosom swollen,  
That Ver of long esteemed, a famous ancient Flood  
(Upon whose aged Bank old Verlamchester stood,  
Before the Roman rule) here glorified of yore,  
Unto her clearer banks contributed his store;  
Enlarging both her stream, and strengthening his renown,  
Where the delicious Meads her through her course do crown.  
This 
The little clear river by Saint Alban.  Ver (as I have said) colne's tributary brook,  
On verlam's ruin'd walls as sadly he doth look,  
Near Holy Alban Town, where his rich shrine was set,  
Old Watling in his way the Flood doth over-get.  
Where after reverence 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 have lived to see  
Things in far better state then at this time they be:  
But he that made, amend: for much their goes amiss.  
Quoth Watling, gentle flood, yea so in truth it is:  
And sith of this thou speak'st; the very sooth to say,  
Since Great Mulmutius, first, made me the noblest Way,  
The soil is altered much: the cause I pray thee show.  
The time that thou hast lived, hath taught thee much to know.  
I fain would understand, why this delightful place,  
In former time that stood so high in Nature's grace  
(Which bore such store of grain, and that so wondrous great,  
That all the neighbouring Coast was called the 
* Whethamsted.  soil of wheat)  
Of later time is turned a hot and hungry sand,  
Which scarce repays the seed first cast into the the Land.  
At which the silent brook shrunk-in his silver head,  
And feigned as he away would instantly have fled;  
Suspecting, present speech might passed grief renew.  
Whom Watling thus again doth seriously pursue;  
I pray thee be not coy, but answer my demand:  
The cause of this (dear Flood) I fain would understand.  
§. Thou saw'st when Verlam once her head aloft did bear  
(Which in her cinders now lies sadly buried here)  
With Alabaster, Tuch, and Porphery adorned,  
When (well-near) in her pride great Troynovant she scorned.  
§. Thou sawest great-burthened Ships through these thy valleys pass,  
Where now the sharp-edged scythe shears up the spiring grass:  
That where the ugly Seal and purpose used to play,  
The Grasshopper and Ant now lord it all the day:  
Where now Saint Alban stands was called Holme-hurst then;  
Whose sumptuous Fane we see neglected now again.  
This rich and goodly Fane which ruined thou dost see,  
Quoth Ver, the motive is that thou importun'st me:  
But to another thing thou cunningly dost fly,  
And reason seem'st to urge of her sterility.  
With that he fetched a sigh, and ground his teeth in rage;  
Quoth Ver even for the sin of this accursed Age.  
Behold that goodly Fane, which ruined now doth stand,  
To holy 
Look before to the XI. Song.  Albon built, first Martyr of the Land;  
Who in the faith of Christ from Rome to Britanne came,  
And dying in this place, resigned his glorious Name.  
In memory of whom, (as more then half Divine)  
Our English Offa reared a rich and sumptuous shrine  
And Monastary here: which our succeeding kings,  
From time to time endowed with many goodly things.  
And many a Christian Knight was buried here, before  
The Norman set his foot upon this conquered shore;  
And after those brave spirits in all those baleful stowres,  
That with Duke 
With the eldest son of the Conqueror, into the Holy-land.  Robert went against the Pagan powers,  
And in their Country's right at Cressy those that stood,  
And that at poitiers bathed their bilbowes in French blood;  
Their valiant nephews next at Agin-court that fought,  
Whereas rebellious France upon her knees was brought:  
In this religious house at some of their returns,  
When nature claimed her due, here placed their hallowed urns:  
Which now devowring Time, in his so mighty waste,  
Demolishing those walls, hath utterly defaced.  
So that the earth to feel the ruinous heaps of stones,  
That with the burth'nous weight now press their sacred bones,  
Forbids this wicked brood, should by her fruits be fed;  
As loathing her own womb, that such loose children bred.  
Herewith transported quite, to these exclaims he fell:  
lives no man, that this world her grievous 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 days, it was the satires use  
To tax the guilty times, and rail upon abuse:  
But soothers find the way preferment most to win;  
Who serving Great men's turns, become the bawds to sin.  
When Watling in his words that took but small delight,  
Hearing the angry Brook so cruelly to bite;  
As one that fain would drive these fancies from his mind,  
Quoth he, I'll tell thee things that suit thy gentler kind.  
My Song is of myself, and my three sister Streets,  
Which way each of us run, where each her fellow meets,  
Since us, his Kingly Ways, Mulmutius first began,  
From Sea, again to Sea, that through the Island ran.  
Which that in mind to keep posterity might have▪  
Appointing first our course, this privilege he gave,  
That no man might arrest, or debtors goods might seize  
In any of us four his military Ways.  
And though the Fosse in length exceed me many a mile,  
That holds from shore to shore the length of all the I'll,  
From where Rich Cornwall points, to the Iberian Seas,  
Till colder Cathnes tells the scattered Orcadeses,  
I measuring but the breadth, that is not half his gate;  
Yet, 
Watling, the chiefest of the four great Ways.  for that I am graced with goodly London's state,  
And Tames and Severne both since in my course I cross,  
And in much greater trade; am worthier far than Fosse.  
But o unhappy chance! through times disastrous lot,  
Our other fellow Streets lie utterly forgot:  
As Icning, that set out from Yarmouth in the East,  
By the Iceni then being generally possessed,  
Was of that people first termed Icning in her race,  
Upon the 
Not far from Dunstable.  Chiltern here that did my course embrace:  
Into the dropping South and bearing then outright,  
Upon the Solent Sea stopped on the Ile-of- Wight.  
And Rickneld, forth that reached from Cambria's farther shore,  
Where South-Wales now shoots forth Saint david's Promontore.  
And, on his midway near, did me in England meet;  
Then in his oblique course the lusty straggling Street  
Soon overtook the Fosse; and toward the fall of Tine,  
Into the german Sea dissolved at his decline.  
Here Watling would have ceased, his tale as having told:  
But now this Flood that fain the Street in talk would hold,  
Those ancient things to hear, which well old Watling knew,  
With these enticing words, her fairly forward drew.  
Right Noble Street, quoth he, thou hast lived long, gone far,  
Much traffic had in peace, much travailed in war;  
And in thy larger course suruay'st as sundry grounds  
(Where I poor Flood am locked within these narrower bounds,  
And like my ruin'd self these ruins only see,  
And there remains not one to pity them or me)  
On with thy former speech: I pray thee somewhat 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 fain would hear thee tell.  
With these persuasive words, smooth Ver the Watling won:  
Stroking her dusty face, when thus the Street began;  
When once their sevenfold Rule the Saxons came to rear,  
And yet with half this I'll sufficed scarcely were,  
Though from the Inland part the Britan's they had chased,  
Then understand how here themselves the Saxons placed.  
Where in Great Britan's state four people of her own  
Were by the several names of their abodes well known  
(As, in that horn which iuttes into the Sea so far,  
Wherein our Devonshire now, and furthest Cornwall are,  
The old Daumonij dwelled: so hard again at hand,  
The Durotriges sat on the Dorsetian Sand:  
And where from Sea to Sea the Belgae forth were let,  

For a more plain division of the English kingdoms see to the XI. Song.  Even from Southhamptons' shore, through Wilt and Somerset,  
The Attrebates in Bark unto the Bank of Tames,  
Betwixt the Celtic sleeve and the Sabrinian streams)  
The Saxons there set down one Kingdom: which installed,  
And being West, they it their Western kingdom called.  
So Eastward where by Tames the Trinobants were set,  
To Trinovant their Town, for that their name in debt,  
That London now we term, the Saxons did possess,  
And their East kingdom called, as 
* So called, of the East-Saxons.  Essex doth express;  
The greatest part thereof, and still their name doth bear;  
Though Middlesex therein, and part of Hartford were;  
From Colne upon the West, upon the East to 
* A River upon the Confines of Suff. and Essex.  Stour,  
Where mighty Tames himself doth into Neptune pour.  
As to our farthest Rise, where forth those Forelands lean,  
Which bear their chalky brows into the Germane main,  
The Angles which arose out of the Saxon race,  
Allured with the delights and fitness of that place,  
Where the Iceni lived did set their kingdom down,  
From where the wallowing Seas those queachy Washeses drown  
That Ely do in-Ile, to martyred Edmond Ditch,  
Till those Norfolcian shores vast Neptune doth intich:  
Which (farthest to the East of this divided Isle)  
Th'East Angle's kingdom, then, those English did enstyle.  
And Sussex seemeth still, as with an open mouth,  
Those Saxons Rule to show that of the utmost South  
The name to them assumed, who rigorously expelled  
The Kentish Britan's thence, and those rough wood-lands held  
From where the goodly Tames the Surrian grounds doth sweep,  
Until the smiling Downs salute the Celtic Deep.  
Where the Dobuni dwelled, their neighbouring Cateuclani,  
Cornauij more remote, and where the Coritani,  
Where Dee and Mersey shoot into the Irish Sea;  
(Which well-near o'er this part, now called England, lay,  
From Severne to the Ditch that cuts Newmarket Plain,  
And from the Banks of Tames to Humber, which contain  
So many goodly shires of Mersey, Mercia height)  
Their mightier Empire, there, the middle English pight.  
Which farthest though it reached, 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  
well-near the half thereof▪ and from three peoples there,  
To whom three special parts divided justly were  
(The Ordouices, now which North-Wales people be,  
From Cheshire which of old divided was by Dee:  
And from our Marchers now, that were Demetae then;  
And those Silureses called, by us the South-Wales men)  
Beyond the Severne, much the English Offa took,  
To shut the Britan's up, within a little nook.  
From whence, by Merseyes Banks, the rest a kingdom made:  
Where, in the Britanes Rule (before) the brigands swayed;  
The powerful English there established were to stand:  
Which, North from Humber set, they termed North-humberland;  
Two Kingdoms which had been, with several thrones installed.  
Bernitia height the one; Diera th'other called.  
The first from Humber stretched unto the Bank of Tine:  
Which River and the Frith the other did confine.  
Bernitia beareth through the spacious Yorkish bounds,  
From Durham down along to the Lancastrian 
* Sea-depths n●er the shores.  Sounds,  
With Mersey and clear Tine continuing to their fall,  
To England-ward within the Pict's renowned Wall,  
And did the greater part of 
* The Cymbries Land.  Cumberland contain:  
With whom the Britan's name for ever shall remain;  
Who there amongst the rocks and mountains lived long,  
When they Loegria left, enforced through powerful wrong.  
Diera over Tine, into Albania lay,  
To where the 
A river running by Edenbrough into the Sea.  Frith falls out into the Germane Sea.  
This said, the aged Street sagd sadly on alone:  
And Ver upon his course, now hasted to be gone  
T'accompany his Colne: which as she gently glides,  
Doth kindly him embrace: whom soon this hap betides;  
As Colne come on along, and chanced to cast her eye  
Upon that neighbouring Hill where Harrow stands so high,  
She Peryvale perceived pranked up with wreaths of wheat, 
Peryvale, or Pure-va●●, yieldeth the finest meal, of England.   
And with exulting terms thus glorying in her seat;  
Why should not I be coy, and of my Beauties nice,  
Since this my goodly grain is held of greatest price?  
No manchet can so well the courtly palate please,  
As that made of the meal fetched from my fertile Leaze.  
Their finest of that kind, compared with my wheat,  
For whiteness of the Bread, doth look like common Cheat.  
What Barley is there found, whose fair and bearded ear  
Makes stouter English Ale, or stronger English Beer.  
The Oat, the Bean, and Pease, with me but Pulses are;  
The course and browner Rye, no more than Fitch and Tare.  
What seed doth any soil, in England bring, that I  
Beyond her most increase yet cannot multiply.  
Besides; my sure abode next goodly London is,  
To vent my fruitful store, that me doth never miss.  
And those poor base things, they cannot put away,  
How ere I set my price, near on my chapmen stay.  
When presently the Hill, that maketh her a Vale,  
With things he had in hand, did interrupt her tale,  
With Hampsted being fallen and Hie-gate at debate;  
As one before them both, that would advance his State,  
From either for his height to bear away the praise,  
Besides that he alone rich Peryvale surveys.  
But Hampsted pleads, 
Hampsted excellent for Simples.  himself in Simples to have skill,  
And therefore by desert to be the noblest Hill;  
As one, that on his worth and knowledge doth rely  
In learned Physics use, 
Hampsted-hill, famous for Simples.  and skilful Surgery;  
And challengeth, from them, the worthiest place her own,  
Since that old Watling once, o'er him, to pass was known.  
Then Hie-gate boasts his Way; Which men do most frequent;  
His long-continued fame; his high and great descent;  
Appointed for a gate of London to have been,  
When first the mighty Brute, that City did begin.  
And that he is the Hill, next Enfield which hath place,  
A Forest for her pride, though titled but a Chase.  
Her Purlieus, and her Parks, her circuit full as large,  
As some (perhaps) whose state requires a greater charge.  
Whose 
* High woody Banks.  Holts that view the East, do wistly stand to look  
Upon the winding course of Lee's delightful Brook.  
Where Mimer coming in, invites her Sister bean,  
Amongst the chalky Bankst increase their Mistress train;  
Whom by the dainty hand, obsequiously they lead  
(By Hartford gliding on, through many a pleasant Mead.  
And coming in her course, to cross the common Fare,  
For kindness she doth kiss that hospitable Ware.)  
Yet scarcely comfort Lee (alas!) so woe begun,  
Complaining in her course, thus to herself alone;  
How should my beauty now give Waltham such delight,  
Or I poor silly Brook take pleasure in her sight?  
Antiquity (for that it stands so far from view,  
And would her doting dreams should be believed for true)  
Dare loudly lie for Colne, that sometimes Ships did pass,  
To Verlam by by her Stream, when Verlam famous was;  
But, by these later times, suspected but to feign,  
She Planks and Anchors shows, her error to maintain;  
Which were, indeeds, of Boats, for pleasure there to row  
Upon her (than a Lake) the Roman Pomp to show,  
When Rome● her forces here did every year supply,  
And at old Verlam kept a warlike Colony.  
But I distressed Lee, whose course doth plainly tell,  
That what of Colne is said, of me none could refel,  
Whom 
* See to the XII. Song.  Alfred but too wise (poor River) I may say  
(When he the cruel Danes, did cunningly betray,  
Which Hartford then besieged, whose Navy there abode,  
And on my spacious breast, before the Castle road)  
By vantage of my soil, he did divide my Stream▪  
That they might ne'er return to Neptune's watery Realm.  
And, since, distressed Lee I have been left forlorn▪  
A byword to each Brook, and to the World a scorn.  
When Sturt, a Nymph of hers (whose saith she oft had proved,  
And whom, of all her train, Loe most entirely loved)  
Lest so excessive grief, her Mistress might invade,  
Thus (by fair gentle speech) to patience doth persuade:  
Though you be not so great to others as before,  
Yet not a jot for that dislike yourself the more.  
Your ense is not alone, nor is (at all) so strange;  
Sith every thing on earth subjects itself to change.  
Where rivers sometime ran, is firm and certain ground:  
And where before were Hills, now standing Lakes are found.  
And that which most you urge your beauty to despoil,  
Doth recompense your Bank, with quantity of soil,  
Beset with ranks of Swans that, in their wont pride,  
Do prune their snowy plumes upon your pleasant side.  
And Waltham woos you still, and smiles with wont cheer:  
And Tames as at the first, so still doth hold you deer.  
To much beloved Lee, this scarcely Sturt had spoke,  
But goodly London's sight their further purpose broke:  
When Tames his either Banks, adorned with buildings fair,  
The City to salute doth bid the Muse prepare.  
Whose Turrets, Fanes, and Spires, when wistly she beholds,  
Her wonder at the site, thu● strangely she unfolds:  
At thy great Bvilder's wit, who's he but wonder may?  
Nay: of his wisdom, thus, ensuing times shall say;  
O more than mortal man, that did this Town begin!  
Whose knowledge found the plot, so fit to set it in.  
What God, or heavenly power was harboured in thy breast,  
From whom with such success thy labours should be blest?  

The goodly situation of London.  Built on a rising Bank, within a Vale to stand,  
And for thy healthful soil, chose gravel mixed with sand.  
And where fair Tames his course into a Crescent casts  
(That, forced by his Tides, as still by her he hasts,  
He might his surging waves into her bosom send)  
Because too far in length, his Town should not extend.  
And to the North and South, upon an equal reach,  
Two Hills their even Banks do somewhat seem to stretch,  
Those 
The North & South winds.  two extremer Winds from hurting it to let;  
And only level lies▪ upon the Rise and Set.  
Of all this goodly I'll, where breathes most cheerful air  
And every way thereto the ways most smooth and fair;  
As in the fittest place, by man that could be thought,  
To which by Land, or Sea, provision might be brought.  
And such a Road for Ships scarce all the world commands,  
As is the goodly Tames, near where Brute's City stands.  
Nor any Haven lies to which is more resort,  
Commodities to bring, as also to transport:  
Our Kingdom that enriched (through which we flourished long)  
ere idle Gentry up in such abundance sprung.  
Now pestering all this I'll: whose disproportion draws  
The public wealth so dry, and only is the cause  
Our gold goes out so fast, for foolish foreign things,  
Which upstart Gentry still into our Country brings;  
Who their insatiate pride seek chiefly to maintain  
By that, which only serves to uses vile and vain:  
Which our plain Fathers erst would have accounted sin,  
Before the costly Coach, and silken stock came in;  
Before that Indian weed so strongly was embraced; 
Tobacco.   
Wherein, such mighty sums we prodigally waste;  
That Merchants long trained up in Gayn's deceitful school,  
And subtly having learned to soothe the humorous fool,  
Present their painted toys unto this frantic gull,  
Disparaging our Tin, our Leather, Corn, and Wool;  
When Foreigners, with ours them warmly clothe and feed,  
Transporting trash to us, of which we near had need.  
But whilst the angry Muse, thus on the Time exclaims,  
Sith every thing therein consisteth in extremes;  
Lest she enforced with wrongs, her limits should transcend,  
Here of this present Song she briefly makes an end.  

Illustrations.  
IN wandering passage the Muse returns 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 aloft did bear.  
For, under Nero, the Britons intolerably loaden with weight of the Roman government, and especially the Icens (now Norfolk & Suffolk men) provoked by that cruel servitude, into which, not themselves only, but the wise also and Posterity of their King Prasutagus were, even beyond right of victory, constrained, at length breathing for liberty (and in a further continuance of war having for their General R. Boudicea, Bunduica, or as the difference of her name is) rebelled against their foreign Conqueror, and in Martial opposition committing a slaughter of no less than LXXX M. (as Dio hath, although Tacitus miss ↂ. of this number) ransacked and spoiled Maldon (then Camalodunum) and also this Verulam (near S. Albon) which were the two 
a Sueton. lib. 6. cap. 39  chief Towns of the I'll; The first a Colony (whereof the VIII. Song:) this a 
* Municipium Tac●t. Annal. 14.  Municipal City, called expressly in a Catalogue at th'end of Nennius, Caer-Municip. Out of 
b Noct. Attic. 16. cap. 13.  Agellius I thus note to you its Nature. 
* Such as lived in them were free of Rome, but using their own laws, capable only of honorary titles in the Roman state, and thence had their name.  Municipes sunt Cives Romani ex Municipijs suo iure & Legibus suis utentes, Mune●is tantùm cum Pop Rom. honorary participes, à quo Munere capessendo appell●ts videntur; nullis aliis necessitatibus neque ulla Pop. Rom. lege astricti, quùm nunquam Pop. Rom. ●oru● sundus factus esset. It differed from a Colony, most of all in that a Colony as a Progeny of the City, and this of such were as received into State●fauour and friendship by the Roman. Personating the Genius of Verlam, that ever famous 
c In his Ruins of Time.  Spenser sung 
I was that City, which the Garland wore  
Of Britain's Pride, delivered unto me  
By Roman Victors, which it won of yore;  
Though naught at all but Ruins now I be,  
And lie in mine own ashes, as ye see:  
Verlam I was; what boots it that I was,  
S●th now I am but weeds and wasteful grass?   

DCC.XCV.  As under the Romans, so in the Saxon times afterward it endured a second Ruin: and, out of its corruption, after the Abbey erected by K. Offa, was generated that of Saint Albon; whither, 
a Leland. ad Cyg. Cant.  in later times most of the stone-workes and whatsoever fit for building was by the Abbots translated. So that, 
— 
b Spenser bisupra.  Now remains no Memory,  
Nor any little monument to see,  
By which the traveler that fares that way,  
This once was she, may warned be to say.   
The name hath been thought from the River there running called Ver, and Humphrey 
c In Breu. Brit.  Lhuid makes it, as if it were Uer-sha●. i. a Church upon Ver.  
Thou saw'st great burdened ships through these thy valleys pass.  
Lay not here unlikelihoods to the Author's charge; he tells you more judiciously towards the end of the Song. But the cause why some have thought so, is, for that, 
d In Epist. de Excid. Britan.  Gildas, speaking of S. Albon's martyrdom and his miraculous passing through the River at Verlamcestre, calls it 
* An unknown passage over Thames.  iter ignotum trans Thamesis flwij alneum: so by collection they guest that Thames had then his full course this way, being thereto further moved by Anchors and such like here digged up. This conjecture hath been followed by that 
e Spenser.  Noble Muse thus in the person of Verlam; 

And where the Crystal Thamis wont to slide  
In silver channel down along the lee,  
About whose flowery banks on either side  
A thousand Nymphs, with mirthfulliollity,  
Were went to play from all annoyance free:  
There now no rivers course is to be seen,  
But Moorish Fens, and Marshes ever green.   

There also where the winged ships were seen,  
In liquid waves, to cut their foamy way;  
A thousand Fishers numbered to have been  
In that wide Lake looking for plenteous pray  
Of fish, with baits which they used to betray,  
Is now no Lake, nor any Fisher's store,  
Nor ever Ship shall sail there any more.    
But, for this matter of the Thames, those two great Antiquaries, Leland and Camden, have joined in judgement against its and for the Anchors, they may be supposed of fish-boats in large pools, which have here been; and yet are left relics of their name.  
Since us his Kingly ways Molmutius first began.  
near D. years before our Saviour, this K. Molmutius (take it upon credit of the British story) constituted divers laws; especially that Churches, Plough's, and Highways should have liberties of Sanctuary, by no authority violable. That Churches should be free and enjoy liberty for refuge, consenting allowance of most Nations have tolerated, and in this Kingdom (it being affirmed also by constitution of 
g Flor●●egus.  K. Lucius a Christian) every Churchyard was a Sanctuary, until by act 
h 22. Hen. 8. cap. 14.  of Parliament under Hen. VIII. that licence, for protection of Offences, being too much abused, was taken away; but, whether now restored in the last 
i jacob. Sess. 1. cap. 25.  Parliament, wherein all statutes concerning Abjuration or Sanctuary made before XXXV. Eliz. are repealed▪ I examine not. The Plough and Husbandmen have by our 
k West. 2. cap. 20 & 21. Ed. 1. District. Scaccarij.  statutes & especially by 
l C. Quae res pignor● oblige. l. 7. Executores & alibi.  Civil and 
m Xenopli. Cyroped. ●.  Persian law, great freedoms. Highways, being without exception, necessary, as well for Peace as War, have been defended in the Roman 
n ff. dê vià public.  laws, and are taken in ours, to be in that respect (as they are by implication of the name) the King's Highways, and 
o Bract. lib. 4. tract. Assis. Non. diss. c. 16. §. 8.  
* Privileged places, and he which trespasses there commits purpresture upon the King.  res sacrae: & quialiquid inde occupancrit excedendo sins & terminos terrae suae dicitur fecisse Purprestur am super ipsum Regem. According to this privilege of Mulmutius in the statute of Marlebridge 
p 52. Hen. 3. cap. 16. & V. Artic. Cler. cap. 9 Statutum Marlbridge sibi restitutum.  it is enacted, that none should distrain in the King's Highway, or the common Street, but the King and his Ministers, specialem authoritatem ad hoc habentibus; which I particularly transcribe, because the printed books are therein so generally corrupted by addition of this here cited in Latin; You see it altars the Law much, and we have divers judgements, that in behalf of the King by common Bailiffs without special authority Distress may be 
q 34. Ed. ●. Auoury 232.8. Rich. 2 ibid. 194 11. Hen. 4. ●ol. 1. 19 Ed. 2. Auoury 221. & 225. alibi.  taken, as for an amerciament in the sheriffs Torn or Leer, or for Parliament Knights fees. But the old Rolls of the statute (as I have seen in a fair Ms. examined by the exemplification, for the Record itself is with many other lost) had not those words, as the 
r Original sol. 97. b. charta de Foresta ad Ms. ●m●dala.  Register also specially admonishes, nor is any part of that Chapter in some Mss. which I marvel at, seeing we have a formal writ grounded upon it. Not much amiss were it here to remember a worse fault, but continually received, in the Charter of the Forest Art. VII. where you read Nullus Forestarius etc. aliquam collectam faciat nisi per Visum & Sacramentum XII. Regardatorum quando faciunt R●gardum. Tot Forestarij etc. the truth of the best Copies (and so was the Record) being in this digestion Nullus Forestarius etc. aliquam collectam faeciat. Et per visum Sacramentum XII. Regardatorun, quando faciunt Regardun, tot Forestarij ponantur etc. as, beside authentic Mss. it is expressly in the like Charter, almost word, for word, given first by K. john, and printed in Matthew Paris; twixt which, and that of ours commonly read, may he be made a time-deseruing comparison. Were it not for digression, I would speak of the senseless making of Boniface Archbishop of Canterbury witness to the grand Charter in IX. Hen. III. When as it is plain that he was not Archbishop until XXV. The best copy that ever I saw had Simon Archbishop of Canterbury: 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 form of writing in that age) into Simon for Stephen, who was (Stephen of Langton) Archbishop at that time. But I forget myself in following matter of my more particular study, & return to Molmutius. His constitution being general for liberty of Highways, controversy grew about the course and limits of them: whereupon his son K. Belin to quit the subject of that doubt caused more specially these four, here presently spoken of, to be made, which might be for interrupted passage, both in War and Peace; and hence by the Author, they are called Military (a name given by the Romans to such Highways, as were for their marching armies) and indeed by more polit conceit 
s V. Camden Roman.  and judicious authority these our ways have been thought a work 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 derived from S. Dewies in Penbroke into Hereford, & so through Worcester, Warwick, Derby, and York-shires to Tinmouth, which (upon the Author's credit reporting it to me) is also justifiable by a very ancient deed of Lands, bounded near Bermingham in Warwickshire by Rickeneld. To endeavour certainty in them, were but to obtrude unwarrantable conjecture, and abuse time & you. Of Watling (who is here personated, & so much the more proper because Verlam was called also, by the English, 
m Lhuld. Bronier. Brit.  Watling-chester) it is said that it went from Dover in Kent, & so by West of London (yet part of the name seems to this day left in the middle of the City) to this place, & thence in a crooked line through Shropshire by Wrekin hill into 
n Polichronie, lib. 1. cap de Plat. reg.  Cardigan; but 
o Henry. Huntingd. hist. 1.  others say from Verlam to Chester; and where all is referred to Belin by Geffrey ap Arthur, and Polychronicon, another 
p Roger Honeden path 1. sol. 248  tells you that the sons of (I know not what) K. Wetble made, and denominated it. The Fosse is derived, by one consent out of Cornwall into Devonshire, through Somerset, over Cotes-wold by Teukesburie, along near Coventry, to Leicester, through Lincoln to Berwick, and thence to Cathnes the utmost of Scotland. Of Restitution of the other you may be desperate; Rickeneld I have told you of; In Henry of Huntingdon, no such name is found, but with the first two, Ickenild and Ermingstreet. Ickenold, saith he, goes from East to West: Ermingstreet, from South to North: Another tells me that Ermingstreet begins at S. Dewies, and conveys itself to Southampton; which the Author hath attributed to Ichning, begun (upon the words community with Icons) in the Eastern parts. It's not my power to reconcile all these, or elect the best; I only add, that, Ermingstreet (which being of English, Idions, seems to have had its name from 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 in that signification whereby it 
q Adam Brem●s. hist. Eccles. cap. 5. and see to the III. Song.  interprets an universal pillar worshipped for Mercury precedent of ways, is like enough (if Huntingdon be in the right, making it from South to North) to have left its part in Stanstreet in Surrey, where a way made with stones and gravel in a soil on both sides very different continues near a mile; and thence towards the Eastern shore in Sussex are some places seeming as other relics of it. But I here determine nothing.    

  

The seventeenth Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
To Medway, Tames a suitor goes,  
But fancies Mole, as forth he slows.  
Her Mother, Homesdale, holds her in:  
She digs through Earth, the Tames to win.  
Great Tames, as King of Rivers, sings  
The Catalogue of th'English Kings.  
Thence the light Muse, to th'Southward sores,  
The Surrian and Sussexian shores;  
The Forests and the Downs surveys,  
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 pass, that Isis and her Tame  
Of Medway understood, a Nymph of wondrous fame;  
And much desirous were, their princely Tames should prove  
If (as a wooer) he could win her Maiden-love;  
That of so great descent, and of so large a Dower,  
Might well-ally their House, and much increase his power:  
And striving to prefer their Son, the best they may,  
Set forth the lusty Flood, in rich and brave array,  
Bankt with embroidered Meads, of sundry suits of flowers,  
His breast adorned with Swans, oft washed with silver showers:  
A train of gallant Floods, at such a costly rate  
As might beseem their care, and fitting his estate.  
Attended and attired magnificently thus,  
They send him to the Court of great Oceanus,  
The World's huge wealth to see; yet with a full intent,  
To woo the lovely Nymph, fair Medway as he went.  
Who to his Dame and Sire, his duty scarce had done,  
And whilst they sadly wept at parting of their Son,  
See what the Tames befell, when 'twas suspected lest.  
As still his goodly train yet every hour increased,  
And from the Surrian shores clear Wey came down to meet  
His Greatness, whom the Tames so graciously doth greet,  
That with the 
* Coming by Fernham, so called of ●em● there growing.  Fearne-crowned Flood he Minion-like doth play:  
Yet is not this the Brook, enticeth him to stay.  
But as they thus, in pomp, came sporting on the shoal,  
'Gainst Hampton-Court he meets the soft and gentle Mole.  
Whose eyes so pierced his breast, that seeming to ●reslowe  
The way which he so long, intended was to go,  
With trifling up and down, he wandereth here and there;  
And that he in her sight, transparent might appear,  
Applies himself to Fords, and setteth his delight  
On that which most might make him gracious in her sight.  
Then Isis and the Tame from their conjoined bed,  
Desirous still to learn how Tames their son had sped  
(For greatly they had hoped, his time had so been spent,  
That he ere this had won the goodly heir of Kent)  
And sending to inquire, had news returned again  
(By such as they employed, on purpose in his train)  
How this their only heir, the Isles imperial Flood,  
Had loitered thus in love, neglectful of his good.  
No marvel (at the news) though 
* Isi●  Ouse and Tame were sad,  
More comfort of their son expecting to have had.  
Nor blame them, in their looks much sorrow through they showed:  
Who fearing lest he might thus meanly be bestowed,  
And knowing danger still increased by delay,  
Employ their utmost power, to hasten him away.  
But Tames would hardly on: oft turning back to show,  
From his much loved Mole how loath he was to go.  
The mother of the Mole, old 
* A very woody Vale in Surry.  Homesdale, likewise bears  
Th'affection of her child, as ill as they do theirs:  
Who nobly though derived, yet could have been content,  
Thave matched her with a Flood, of far more mean descent.  
But Mole respects her words, as vain and idle dreams,  
Compared with that high joy, to be beloved of Tames:  
And headlong 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 never was there help, but love could find it out.)  
§. Mole digs herself a Path, by working day and night  
(According to her name, to show her nature right)  
And underneath 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 embrace old Tame and Isis son.  
When Tames now understood, what pains the Mole did take,  
How far the loving Nymph adventured for his sake;  
Although with Medway matched, yet never could remove  
The often quickening sparks of his more ancient love.  
So that it comes to pass, when by great Natures guide  
The Ocean doth return, and thrusteth-in the Tide;  
up towards the place, where first his much-loved Mole was seen,  
§. He ever since doth flow, beyond delightful Sheen.  
Then Wandal cometh in, the Moles beloved mate,  
So amiable, fair, so pure, so delicate,  
So plump, so full, so fresh, her eyes so wondrous clear:  
And first unto her Lord, at Wandsworth doth appear,  
That in the goodly Court, of their great sovereign Tames,  
There might no other speech be had amongst the Streams,  
But only of this Nymph, sweet Wandal, what she wore;  
Of her complexion, grace, and how herself she bore.  
But now this mighty Flood, upon his voyage priest  
(That found how with his strength, his beauties still increased,  
From where, brave Windsor stood on tiptoe to behold  
The fair and goodly Tames, so far as ere he could,  
With Kingly houses Crowned, of more than earthly pride,  
Upon his either Banks, as he along doth glide)  
With wonderful delight, doth his long course pursue,  
Where Orlando, Hampton Court, and Richmond he doth view,  
Then Westminster the next great Tames doth entertain;  
That vaunts her Palace large, and her most sumptuous Fane:  
The Lands tribunal seat that challengeth for hers,  
The crowning of our Kings, their famous sepulchres.  
Then goes he on along by that more beauteous Strand,  
Expressing both the wealth and bravery of the Land.  
(So many sumptuous Bowers, within so little space,  
The All-beholding Sun scarce sees in all his race.)  
And on by London leads, 
London lying like a holy Moon.  which like a Crescent lies,  
Whose windows seem to mock the Star-befreckled skies;  
Besides her rising Spires, so thick themselves that show,  
As do the bristling reeds, within his Banks that grow.  
There sees his crowded Wharfes, and people-pestred shores,  
His Bosom overspread, with shoals of labouring oars:  
With that most costly Bridge, 
London-bridge the Crown of Tames.  that doth him most renown,  
By which he clearly puts all other Rivers down.  
Thus furnished with all that appertained to State,  
Desired by the Floods (his Greatness which await)  
That as the rest before, so somewhat he would sing.  
Both worthy of their praise, and of himself their King;  
A Catalogue of those, the Sceptre here that swayed,  
The Princely Tames recites, and thus his Song he laid;  
As Bastard William first, by Conquest hither came,  
And brought the Norman Rule, upon the English name:  
So with a tedious war, and almost endless toils.  
Throughout his troubled reign, here held his hard-got spoils.  
Deceasing at the last, through his unsealed State,  
§. Left (with his ill-got Crown) unnatural debate.  
For, dying at his home, his eldest son abroad  
(Who, in the Holy-warre, his person then bestowed)  
His second Rufus next usurped the wronged reign:  
And by a fatal dart, in his New Forest slain,  
Whilst in his proper right religious Robert slept,  
Through craft into the Throne, the younger Bean-cleark crept.  
From whom his Sceptre, then, whilst Robert strove to wrist,  
The other (of his power that amply was possessed)  
With him in battle joined: and, in that dreadful day  
(Where Fortune show'd herself all human power to sway)  
Duke Robert went to wrack; and taken in the flight,  
§. Was by that cruel King deprived of his sight,  
And in close prison put; where miserably he died:  
But Henry's whole intent was by just heaven denied.  
For, as of light, and life, he that sad Lord bereft;  
So his, to whom the Land, he purposed to have left,  
The 
* See the last note to the IV. Song.  raging Seas devoured, as hitherward they sailed.  
When, in this Line direct, the Conqueror's issue failed,  
Twixt Henry's Daughter Mauld, the Almaigne emperors Bride  
(Which after to the Earl of Anjou was affied)  
And Stephen Earl of Bloys, the Conqueror's Sister's son,  
A fierce and cruel war immediately begun;  
Who with their several powers, arrived here from France,  
By force of hostile Arms, their Titles to advance.  
But, Stephen, what by coin, and what by foreign strength,  
Through Worlds of danger gained the glorious goal at length.  
But, left without an heir, the empress issue next,  
No Title else on foot; upon so fair pretext,  
The second Henry soon upon the Throne was set,  
(Which Mauld to jeffrey bore) the first Plantagenet.  
Who held strong wars with Wales, that his subjection spurned:  
Which oftentimes he beaten; and, beaten oft, returned:  
With his stern Children vexed: who (whilst he strove t'advance  
His right within this Isle) raised war on him in France.  
With his high fame in fight, what cold breast was not fired?  
Through all the Western world, for wisdom most admired.  
Then Richard got the Rule, his most renowned son.  
Whose courage, him the name of Cure De Lion won.  
With those first earthly Gods, had this brave Prince been borne,  
His daring hand had from Alcides' shoulders torn  
The Nemean Lion's hide: who in the Holy-land  
So dreadful was, as though from jove and Neptune's hand,  
The thundering three-forkt Fire, and Trident he had reft,  
And him to rule their charge they only then had left.  
Him john again succeeds; who, having put-away  
Young Arthur (Richard's son) the Sceptre took to sway.  
Who, of the commonwealth first havoc having made,  
§. His sacrilegious hands upon the Churches laid,  
In cruelty and rape continuing out his reign;  
That his outrageous lust and courses to restrain,  
§. The Baronage were forced defensive Arms to raise,  
Their daughters to redeem, that he by force would seize.  
Which the first Civil war in England here begun.  
And for his sake such hate his son young Henry won,  
That to depose their Prince, th'revengeful people thought:  
And from the Line of France young Lewes to have brought,  
To take on him our Rule: but, Henry got the Throne,  
By his more forceful friends: who, wise and puissant grown,  
§. The general Charter seized: that into slavery drew  
The freest born English blood. Of which such discord grew,  
And in the Baron's breasts so rough combustions raised,  
With much expense of blood as long was not appeased,  
By strong and tedious gustsheld up on either side,  
Betwixt the Prince and Peers, with equal power and pride.  
He knew the worst of war, matched with the Barons strong;  
Yet victor lived, and reigned both happily and long.  
This long-lived Prince expyred: the next succeeded; he,  
Of us, that for a God might well related be.  
Our Long shanks, Scotland's scourge: who to the Oreads reached  
His Sceptre, and with him from wild Albania brought  
The relics of her Crown (by him first placed here)  
§. The seat on which her Kings inaugurated were.  
He tamed the desperate Welsh, that out so long had stood,  
And made them take 
* See before to the IX. Song.  a Prince, sprung of the English blood.  
This I'll, from Sea to Sea, he generally controlled,  
And made the other parts of England both to hold.  
This Edward, first of ours, a second than ensues;  
Who both his Name and Birth, by looseness, did abuse:  
Fair Ganimed's and Fools who raised to Princely places;  
And chose not men for wit, but only for their faces.  
In parasites and knaves, as he reposed his trust,  
Who soothed him in his ways apparently unjust;  
For that preposterous sin wherein he did offend,  
In his posterior parts had his preposterous end.  
A third then, of that name, amends for this did make:  
Who from his idle sire seemed naught at all to take.  
But as his Grandsire did his Empire's verge advance:  
So led he forth his powers, into the heart of France.  
And fastening on that Right, he by his mother had,  
Against the Salic law, which utterly forbade  
Their women to inherit; to propagate his Cause,  
At Cressey with his sword first canceled those Laws:  
Then like a furious storm, through troubled France he ran;  
And by the hopeful hand of brave Black-Edward won  
Proud Poitiers, where King john he valiantly subdued,  
The miserable French and there in mammocks hewed▪  
Then with his battering Rams made Earthquakes in their Towers,  
Till trampled in the dust herself she yielded ours.  
As mighty Edward's heir, to a second Richard then  
(Son to that famous Prince Black Edward, Man of Men,  
Untimely that before his conquering father died)  
Too soon the Kingdom fell: who his vain youth applied  
To wantonness and spoil, and did to favour draw  
Unworthy ignorant sots, with whose dull eyes he saw:  
Who placed their like in Court, and made them great in State  
(Which wise and virtuous men, beyond all plagues, might hate.)  
To whom he blindly gave: who blindly spent again,  
And oft oppressed his Land, their riot to maintain.  
He hated his Allies, and the deserving starved;  
His Minions and his will, the Gods he only served:  
And finally, deposed, as he was ever friend  
To Rybaulds, so again by Villains had his end.  
Henry the Son of Gaunt, supplanting Richard, then  
Ascended to the Throne: when discontented men,  
Desirous first of change, which to that height him brought,  
Deceived of their ends, into his actions sought;  
And, as they set him up, assayed to pluck him down:  
From whom he hardly held his ill-atchieved Crown;  
That, Treasons to suppress which oft he did disclose,  
And raising public Arms, against his powerful foes,  
His usurpation still being troubled to maintain,  
His short disquiet days scarce reached a peaceful reign.  
A fifth succeeds the fourth: but how his father got  
The Crown, by right or wrong, the Son respecteth not.  
Nor further hopes for that ere leaveth to pursue;  
But doth his claim to France, courageously renew ';  
Upon her wealth shores un-lades his warlike fraught;  
And, showing us the fields where our brave 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 seemed to stand,  
When first he set his foot on her rebellious Land.  
That all his grandsire's deeds did over, and thereto  
Those high atcheevements add the former could not do:  
At agincourt's proud fight, that quite put Poitiers down;  
Of all, that time who lived, the King of most renown.  
Whose too untimely end, the Fates too soon did haste:  
Whose nine years noble acts, nine World's deserve to last.  
A sixth in name succeeds, borne great, the mighty son  
Of him, in England's right that spacious France had won.  
Who coming young to reign, protected by the Peers  
Until his Nonage out: and grown to riper years,  
Proved upright, soft, and meek, in no wise loving war;  
But fitter for a cowl, then for a Crown by far.  
Whose mildness overmuch, did his destruction bring:  
A wondrous godly man, but not so good a King.  
Like whom yet never man tried fortunes change so oft;  
So many times throwne-down, so many times aloft  
(When with the utmost power, their friends could them afford,  
The Yorkists, put their right upon the dint of sword)  
As still he lost and won, in that long bloody war,  
§. From those two Factions styled, of York and Lancaster.  
But by his foes enforced to yield him to their power,  
His wretched reign and life, both ended in the Tower.  
Of th' Edward's name the fourth put on the Regal Wreath:  
Whom furious bloody war (that seemed a while to breath)  
Not utterly forsook. For, Henry's Queen and heir  
(Their once possessed reign still seeking to repair)  
Put forward with their friends, their title to maintain.  
Whose blood did Barnet's Streets and Te●ksburyes distain,  
Till no man left to stir. The Title then at rest,  
The old Lancastrian Line, being utterly suppressed,  
Himself the wanton King to amorous pleasures gave;  
§. Yet jealous of his right descended to his Grave.  
His Son an infant left: who had he lived to reign,  
Edward the fifth had been. But justly see again▪  
As he a King and Prince before had caved to die  
(The father in the Tower, the son at Teuksbury)  
So were his children young, being left to be protected  
By Richard; who nor God, nor human laws respected.  
This Viper, this most vile devourer of his kind  
(Whom his ambitious ends had struck so grossly blind)  
From their dear mother's lap, them seizing for a pray  
(Himself in right the next, could they be made away)  
Most wrongfully usurped, and them in prison kept;  
Whom cruelly at last he smothered as they slept.  
As his unnatural hands, were in their blood imbrued:  
So (guilty in himself) with murder he pursued  
Such, on his heinous acts as looked not fair and right;  
Yea, such as were not his expressly, and had might  
T'oppose him in his course; till (as a monster loathed,  
The man, to hell and death himself that had betrothed)  
They brought another in, to thrust that Tyrant down;  
In battle who at last resigned both life and Crown.  
A seventh Henry, then, th'imperial seat attained,  
In banishment who long in Britanne had remained,  
What time the Yorkists sought his life to have bereft,  
Of the Lancastrian House then only being left  
(Derived from john of Gaunt) whom Richmond did beget,  
§. Upon a daughter borne to john of Somerset.  
Elizabeth of York this Noble Prince affied,  
To make his Title strong, thereby on either side.  
And grafting of the White and Red Rose firm together,  
Was first, that to the Throne advanced the name of Tether.  
In Besworths' fatal Field, who having Richard slain,  
Then in that prosperous peace of his successful reign,  
Of all that ever ruled, was most precise in State,  
And in his life and death a King most fortunate.  
This seventh, that was of ours, the Eightth succeeds in name:  
Who by Prince Arthur's death (his elder Brother) came  
Unto a Land with wealth abundantly that flowed:  
Abundantly again, so he the same bestowed,  
In Banquets, Mask's, and Tilts, all pleasures prone to try,  
Besides his secret 'scapes who loved Polygamy.  
The abbeys he suppressed; a thousand lingering year,  
Which with revenues large the World had sought to rear.  
And through his awful might, for temporal ends did save,  
To other uses erst what srank devotion gave;  
And here the papal power, first utterly denied,  
Defender of the Faith, that was instilled and died.  
His son the Empire had, our Edward sixth that made;  
Untimely as he sprang, untimely who did fade.  
A Protestant being bred; and in his infant reign,  
Th'religion then received, here stoutly did maintain:  
But e'er he reached to man, from his sad people reft,  
His Sceptre he again unto his Sisters left.  
Of which the eldest of two, Queen Marry, mounts the Chair:  
The ruin'd Roman State who striving to repair,  
With persecuting hands the Protestants pursewed;  
Whose Martyred ashes oft the wondering Streets bestrewed.  
She matched herself with Spain, and brought King Philip hither,  
Which with an equal hand, the Sceptre swayed together.  
But issueless she died; and under six years reign,  
To her wise Sister gave the Kingdom up again.  
Elizabeth, the next, this falling Sceptre hent;  
Digressing from her Sex, with Manlike government  
This Island kept in awe, and did her power extend  
Afflicted France to aid, her own as to defend;  
Against th' Iberian rule, the Fleming; sure defence:  
Rude Ireland's deadly scourge; who sent her Nau●es hence  
Unto the either, Jude, and to that shore so green,  
Virginia which we call, of he● Virgin Queen:  
In Portugal 'gainst Spain, her English onsignes spread;  
Took Cales, when from her aid the braved Iberia fled▪  
Most flourishing in State: that, all our Kings among,  
Scarce any ruled so well: but two, that reigned so long. 
Henry III. and Edward III. the one reigned 56. the other. 50.   
Here suddenly he stayed: and with 〈…〉 Song,  
Whilst yet on every side the City loudly rung,  
He with the Eddy turned, a space to lookabout:  
The Tide, retiring soon, did strongly 〈◊〉 him out.  
And soon the pliant Muse, doth her bra●● wing advance,  
Towards those Sea-bordring shords of ours, that point at France;  
The harder Surrian Heath, and the Sussexian down.  
Which with so great increase though Nature do not crown,  
As many other Shires, of this mui●on'd 〈◊〉:  
Yet on the 
* The Sun in Aries.  Wethers held, when as the sun doth smile,  
Nursed by the Southern Wind, that soft and gently blow,  
Here doth the lusty sap as soon begin in to ●●we;  
The Earth as soon puts on her gaudy Summer's sure;  
The Woods as soon in greon, and orchards great with fruit.  
To Seaward, from the sent where first our Song begun,  
Exhaled to the South by the ascending sun,  
Four stately▪ Wood Nymphs stand on the Sussexian ground,  
Great 
* A Forest, containing most part of Kent, Sussex, and Surrey.  Andredswelds sometime: who, when she did abound,  
In circuit and in growth, all other quite suppressed:  
But in her wane of pride, as she in strength deercast,  
Her Nymphs assumed them names, each one to her delight.  
As, Water-downe, so called of her depressed site:  
And Ash-Downe, of those Trees that most in her do grow,  
Set higher to the Downs, as th'other standeth low.  
Saint Leonards, of the seat by which shonext is plac'●;  
And Whored that with the like delighteth to be graced.  
These Forests as I say, the daughters of the Weald  
(That in their heavy breasts, had long their griefs concealed)  
Foreseeing, their decay each hour so fast came on,  
Under the axe's stroke, forch● many a grievous groan,  
When as the anvils weight, and hammers dreadful sound,  
Even rend the hollow Woods, and shook the queachy ground.  
So that the trembling Nymphs, oppressed through ghastly fear,  
Ran madding to the Downs, with loose dishev'ld hair.  
The Syluans that about the neighbouring woods did dwell,  
Both in the tufty Birth and in the mossy Fell,  
Forsook their gloomy Bowers, and wandered far abroad,  
Expelled their quiet feats, and place of their abode,  
When labouring carts they saw to hold their daily trade,  
Where they in summer wont to sport them in the shade.  
Could we, say they, suppose, that any would us cherish,  
Which suffer (every day) the holiest things to perish?  
Or to our daily want to minister supply?  
These iron times breed none, that mind posterity.  
'tis but in vain to tell, what we before have been,  
Or changes of the world, that we in time have seen;  
When, not devising how to spend our wealth with waste,  
We to the savage swine, let fall our larding mast.  
But now, alas, ourselves we have not to sustain,  
Nor can our tops suffice to shield our Roots from rain.  
Jove's Oak, the warlike Ash, veyned Elm, the softer Beech,  
Short hazel, Maple plain, light Asp, the bending Wych,  
Tough Holly, and smooth Birch, must altogether burn:  
What should the Builder serve, supplies the Forgers turn;  
When under public good, base private gain takes hold,  
And we poor woeful Woods, to ruin lastly sold.  
This uttered they with grief: and more they would have spoke,  
But that the envious Downs, int'open laughter broke;  
As joying in those wants, which Nature them had given,  
Sith to as great distress the Forests should be driven.  
Like him that long time hath another's state envied,  
And sees a following Ebb, unto his former Tide;  
The more he is depressed, and bruised with fortunes might,  
The larger Reane his foe doth give to his despite:  
So did the envious Downs▪ but that again the Floods  
(Their fountains that derive, from those unpitied Woods,  
And so much grace thy Downs, as through their Dales they creep,  
Their glories to convey unto the Celtic depth)  
It very hardly took, much murmuring at their pride.  
Clear Lavant, that doth keep the Southamptonian side  
(Dividing it well-near from the Sussexian lands  
That Selsey doth survey, and Solents troubled sands)  
To Chichester their wrongs impatiently doth tell:  
§. And Arun (which doth name the beauteous Arundel)  
As on her course she came, it to her Forest told.  
Which, nettled with the news, had not the power to hold:  
But breaking into rage, wished Tempests them might rive;  
And on their barren scalps, still flint and chauke might thrive,  
The brave and nobler Woods which basely thus upbraid.  
§. And Adur coming on, to Shoreham softly said,  
The Downs did very ill, poor Woods so to debase.  
But now, the Ous●, a Nymph of very scornful grace,  
So touchy waxed therewith, and was so squeamish grown,  
That her old name she scorned should publicly be known.  
Whose haven out of mind when as it almost grew,  
The lately passed times denominate, the New. 
New-Haven.   
So Cucmer with the rest put to her utmost might:  
As Ashburne undertakes to do the forests right  
(At Pemsey, where she powers her soft and gentler Flood)  
And Asten once distained with native English blood:  
(Whose Soil, when yet but wet with any little rain,  
§ Doth blush; as put in mind of those there sadly slain,  
When Hastings harbour gave unto the Norman powers,  
Whose name and honours now are denizend for ours)  
That boding ominous Brook, it through the Forests rung:  
Which echoing it again the mighty Weald along,  
Great stir was like to grow; but that the Muse did charm  
Their furies, and herself for nobler things did arm.  

Illustrations.  
AFter your travails (thus led by the Muse) through the Inlands, out of the Welsh coast maritime, here are you carried into Surrey and Sussex; the Southern shires from London to the Ocean: and Thames, as K. of all our Rivers, summarily sings the Kings of England, from Norman William to yesterdays age.  
Mole digs herself a path, by working day and night.  
This Mole runs into the earth, about a mile from Darking in Surrey, and after some two miles sees the light again, which to be certain hath been affirmed by Inhabitants thereabout reporting trial made of it. Of the River Deverill near Warmister in Wiltshire is said as much; and more of Alpheus running 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 Syracuse of Sicily) called Ortygia, and thither thus coming unmixed with the Sea, which hath been both tried by a 
a Strab. Geograph. ●.  cup, lost in Elis, and other stuff of the Olympian sacrifices there cast up, & is justified also by express assertion of an old 
b Pansan, Elias. 1.  Oracle to Archias, a Corinthian, advising him he should hither deduce a Colony. 
— 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  Like this, 
* There Alphers springeth again, embracing fair Arethusa.  Pausantas reckons more; 
c Herodot. hist. ●  Erasin in Greece, Lycus 
d Idem. ● Polihym.  that runs into Meander, 
e justin. hist. 42.  Tiger, and divers others, some remember for such quality. And Gaudiana (the ancient limit of Portugal and the Baetique Spain) is specially famous for this form of subterranean course: which although hath been thought fabulous, yet by some learned and judicious of that 
f Ludoui●. Nonius in Fl●●. Hispan.  Country, is put for an unfeigned truth.  
He ever since doth flow beyond delightful Sheen.  
Moles fall into Thames is near the utmost of the Flood, which from the Germane Ocean, is about LX. miles, scarce equalled (I think) by any other River in Europe: whereto you may attribute its continuing so long a course, unless to the Diurnal motion of the Heavens, or Moon, from East to West (which hardly in any other River of note falling into so great a Sea, will be found so agreeable, as to this, flowing the same way) and to the easiness of the Channel being not over creeky, I cannot gues●e. I incline to this of the heavens, because such 
a Scalig. de subtilit. exercitat. ●2.  testimony is of the Ocean's perpetual motion in that kind; and whether it be for frequency of a winding, and thereby more resisting shore, or for any other reason judicially not yet discovered, it is certain, that our coasts are most famous for the greatest differences, by ebbs & floods, before all other whatsoever.  
Left with his ill got Crown unnatural debate.  
See what the matter of Descent to the IV. Song tells you of his title; yet even out of his own mouth as part of his last will and testament, these words are reported; 
b ●uil. Pictavens. inlust. Cademen.  I Constitute no heir of the Crown of England: but to the universal Creator, whose I am, and in whose hand are all things, I commend it. For I had it not by inheritance, but, with direful conflict, and much effusion of blood; I took it from that perjured Harold▪ and by death of his favourites, have I subdued it to my Empire. And somewhat after: Therefore I dare not bequeath the sceptre of this kingdom to any but to God alone, least after my death worse troubles happen in it, by my Occasion. For my son William (always, as it became him, obedient to me) I wish that God may give him his graces, and that, if so it please the Almighty, 
* This is the bequest understood by them which say he devised his kingdom to William II.  he may reign after me. This William the II. (called Rufus) was his second son, Robert his eldest having upon discontent (taken because the Dukedom of Norman●ie, then as it were by birthright, nearly like the principality of Wales, anciently, or Duchy of Cornwall at this day, belonging to our King's Heirs apparent, was denied him) revolted unnaturally, and moved 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 sons to the Conqueror) were divers oppositions for the Kingdom and Dukedom, which here the Author alludes to. Our stories in every hand inform you: And will dicover also the Conqueror's adoption by the Confessor, Harold's oath to him, and such institutions of his lawful title enforced by a case 
c Antiq 〈◊〉 in 〈◊〉. Camd.  reported of one English, who, deriving his right from Scism before the Conquest, recovered by judgement of K. William I. the Manor of S●a● born in Norfolk against one Warren a Norman to whom the King had before granted it: which had been unjust, if he had by right of war only gotten the kingdom; for than had 
d Atqui ad han● rem enuecitatius dilu●●d it. dam▪ jure & Gent●● & Anglicano, visendsi sunt Hoteman. Iliust, quaest. 5. Alb●ric. Gentil. de jure Belli. 3. cap. 5. &. cas. Calvin D. Coke lib. 7.  all titles, of subjects before. been utterly extinct. But, (admit this case as you please, or any cause of right beside his sword) It is plain that his will and impetious affection (moved by their rebellions which had stood for the sworn Harold) disposed all things as a Conqueror: Upon observation of his subjection of all Lands to tenors, his change of Laws, disinheriting the English, and such other reported (which could be but where the profitable Dominion, as Civillians call it, was universally acquired into the Prince's hand) and in reading the disgraceful account then made of the English name, it will be manifest.  
Who by a fatal dart in vast New Forest slain.  
His death by an infortunate losing at a Dear out of one Walter Tirrels hand in New Forest, 
See the II. Song.  his brother Richard being blasted there with infection, & Richard, Duke Robert● Son, having his neck broken therein a boughs twist catching him from his horse, have been thought as divine revenges on William the first, who destroyed 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 wheel of fortune, or change of Mars, should have dispossessed him of the English Crown. Our Stories will of these things better instruct you: but, if you seek Matthew Paris for it, are amend the absurdity of both the London and Tigurin Prints in An. M. LXXXVI. and for Rex magnificus & bonae indolis Adolesc●●s, 
Matthei Paris locus sibi restitutus.  read Rich. magnificus etc. for Richard brother to this Red William  
Was by that cruel King deprived of his sight.  
Thus did the Conqueror's Posterity unquietly possess their Father's inheritance. William had much to do with his brother Robert, justly grudging at his usurping the Crown from right of Primogeniture; but so much the less, in that Robert with divers other German and French Princes left all private respects for the Holy war, which after the Cross undertaken (as those times used) had most fortunate success in Recovery of Palestine. Robert had no more but the Duchy of Normandy, nor that without swords often drawn, before his Holy expedition: about which (having first offer of, but refusing the Kingdom of jerusalem) after he had some V. years been absent, he returned into England, finding his younger brother (Henry I.) exalted into his hereditary throne. For, although it were undoubtedly agreed that Robert was eldest son of the Conqueror; yet the pretence which gave Henry the Crown (beside the means of his working favourites) was, that 
* Solus omnium natus esset regiè. Malme●●. For he was borne the III. year after the Conquest.  he was the only Issue borne after his Father was a King's upon which point a great question is disputed among 
f Ho●tom. Ilust. quaest. 2.  Civilians. Robert was no sooner returned into Normandy, but presently (first animated by Randall, Bishop of Durham, a great disturber of the common peace twixt the Prince and subject by intolerable exactions & unlimited injustice under William II. whose 
* Plaecitator, & Exactoriotius regni Flor. Wig. & Monathorie turba.  chief justice it seems he was, newly escaped out of prison (whither for those state-misdemeanors he was committed by Henry) he dispatches & enterchanges intelligence with most of the Baronage, claiming his Primogeniture-right, & thereby the kingdom. Having thus gained to him most of the English Nobility, he lands with forces at Partesmouth, thence marching towards Winchester: but before any encounter the two Brothers were persuaded to a Peace; Covenant was made and confirmed by oath of XII. Barons, on both parts, that Henry should pay him yearly M.M. pounds of silver, and that the survivor of them should inherit, the other dying without issue. This Peace, upon denial of payment (which had the better colour, because, at request of Q. Maude, the Duke prodigally released his M.M. pounds the next year after the Covenant) was soon broken. The K. (to prevent what mischief might follow a second arrival of his brother) assisted by the greatest favours of Normandy and Anjou, besieged Duke Robert in one of his Castles, took him, brought him home Captive, and at length using that course (next secure to death) so often red of in Choniates, Cantucuzen, and other oriental stories, put out his eyes, being all this time imprisoned in Card●ff● Castle in Glamorgan, where he miserably breathed his last. It is by Polydore added, out of some authority, that K. Henry after a few years imprisonment released him, and commanded that within XL. days and 12. hours (these hours have in them time of two Floods, or a Flood and an Ebb) he should, abjuring England and Normandy, pass the seas as in perpetual Exile; and that in the mean time, upon 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 believe it: Yet, because it gives some kind of example of our Obsolet law of Abjuration (which it seems had its beginning from one of the statutes published under name of the Confessor) a word or two of the time prescribed here for his passage: which being examined upon bracton's credit, makes the report therein faulty. For he seems confident that the XL. days in abjuration, were afterward induced upon the statute of 
* Hen. 2. ap. Rog. Ho●●d. sol. 314.  Cla●●don! which gave the accused of felony or Treason although quitted by the Ordell (that is judgement by Water or Fire, but the Statute published, speaks only of Water, being the common trial of meaner 
a Glanuil. lib. 14. cap. 1. caeterum. si placet, adeas lan●● nostrum li. 2. §. 67.  persons) XL. days to pass ou● of the Realm with his substance, which to other Felons taking sanctuary & confessing to the Coroner, he affirms not grantable; although john ●e Bret●●n is against him, giving this liberty of time, accounted after the abjuration to be spent in the Sanctuary, for provision of their voyage necessaries, after which complete, no man, on pain of life & Member, is to supply any of their wants. I known a point very intricat to determine, observing these opposite Authors and no express resolution. Since them, the Oath of Abjuration published among our Manual Statutes nearly agrees with this of Duke Robert, but with neither of those old Lawyers. In it, after the Felon confesses, and abjures, and hath his Port appointed; I will (proceeds the Oath) diligently endeavour to pass over at that Port, and will, not delay time ●eere above a Flood, and an Ebb, if I may have passage in that space; if not, I will every day go into the Sea up to the knees, ●ussaying to go over, and unless I may do this within Forty continual days I will return to the Sanctuary. As a Felon of our Lord the King; So God nice help, etc. So here the XL. days are to be spent about the passage and not in the Sanctuary: Compare this with other 
b Itin. North. 3. Ed. 3. Coron. 313. Lectur. ap Er. tit. Ceron. 181 V. Stamserdum lib. 2. cap 40. quide his graviter, & modests 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  authorities, and you shall find all so dissonant, that Reconciliation in impossible, Resolution very difficult. I only offer to their consideration, which can here judge, why Hubert de Burch (Earl of Kent, and chief justice of England under Hen. III.) having incurred the King's high displeasure, and grievously persecuted by great Enemies, taking Sanctuary, was, after his being violently drawn out, restored; yet that the Sheriffs, of Hereford and Essex, were commanded toward him there, and prevent all sustenance to be brought him, which they did, decornentes' 
c Math. Par. pag. 507.  〈◊〉 XL. Dierum excubij● obsern●re: And whether also the same reason (now unknown to us) bred this XL. days for expectation of embarquement out of the kingdom, which gave it in an other kind for re●orne? as in case of Disseisin, the law hath 
d Bract lib. 4. tract assis. Nou. Diss. cap. 5. & lib. 5. tract. de Esson. cap. 3. V. de Consuetudine in Oxentan 21. Ed. 3. fol. 46. b.  b●● that the Disseisor could not re-enter without action, unless he had as it were made a present and Continual Claim, yet if he had been out of the Kingdom in single Pilgrimage (that is not general voyages to the Holy-land) or in the King's service in France, or so, he had allowance of XL. days II. Floods, and I. Ebb, to come home in, and XV. days, and four days, after his return, and if the tenant had been so beyond Sea he might have been Essoined de ultra Mare, and for a year and a day, after which he had XL. days, One Flood, and one Ebb (which is easily understood as the other for two Floods) to come into England. This is certain that the space of XL. days (as a year and a day) hath had with us divers applications, as in what before, the Assize of Freshforce in Cities and Boroughs, and the Widows Quarentine, which seems to have had beginning either of a deliberative time granted to her, to think of her conveniency in taking letters of administration, as in an other 
e Cust. Generaulx. de Artois art. 164.  Country the reason of the like is given; or else from the XL. days in the es●oine of Childbirth allowed by the Norman Customs. But you mislike the digression. It is reported that when William the Conqueror in his deathbed, left Normandy to Robert, and England to William the Red, this Henry asked him what he would give him, ↁ. pounds of silver (saith he) and be contented my son; for, in time, thou shalt have all which I possess, and be greater than either of thy brethren.  
His sacrilegious hands upon the Churches laid.  
The great controversy about electing the Archbishop of Canterbury (the K. as his right bade him, commanding that john Bishop of Norwich should have the Prolacie, the Pope, being Innocent III. for his own gain, aided with some disloyal Monks of Canterbury, desiring, and at last consecrating Stephen of Langson a Cardinal) was first cause of it. For K. john would by no means endure this Stephen, nor permit him the dignity after his unjust Election at Rome, but banished the Monks and stoutly menaces the Pope. He presently makes delegation to William Bishop of London, Eustace of Ely, and Malgers of Worcester that they should, with monitory advice, offer persuasion to the K. of conformity to the Romish beheld; if he persisted in Constancy, they should denounce England under an interdict. The Bishops tell K. john as much, who suddenly, 
9 joann. Reg.  moved with imperious affection & scorn of Papal usurpation, swears, by God's tooth, if they or any other, with unadvised attempt, subject his Kingdom to an interdict, he would presently drive every Prelate, and Priest of England to the Pope, and confiscate all their substance, and of all the Romans amongst them, he would first pull out their eyes, and cut off their noses, and then send then all packing, with other like threatening terms, which notwithstanding were not able to cause them desist; but within little time following in public denunciation they performed their authority; and the King, in some sort, his threatenings; committing all Abbeys and Priories, to Lay men's custody, and compelling every Priest's Concubine so is grievous fine. Thus for a while continued the Realm without divine Sacraments or Exercise, excepted only Confession, Extreme unction, and Baptism; the King being also excommunicated and burials allowed only in highways, and ditches without Ecclesiastic Ceremony, & (but only by indulgence procured by Archbishop Langton which purcha'st favour that in all the Monasteries, excepting of White-friar's, might be divine service once a week) had no change, for some IV. or V. years, when the Pope in a solemn Council of Cardinals according to his pretended plenary power, deposed K. john, and immediately by his Legate Pandulph offered to Philip II. of France the kingdom of England. This with suspicion of the subjects heart at home, and another cause then more esteemed then either of these, that is, the prophecy of one Peter an Hermit in Yorkshire foretelling to his face that before Holy Thursday following he should be no King, altered his stiff, and resolute, but too disturbed affections; and persuaded him by Oath of himself and XVI. more of his Barons, to make submission to the church of Rome, & condescended to give for satisfaction, ↁ. M.M.M. pounds sterling (that name of Sterling 
f Io Ston. in Notit. land in pag. 52. V. Camd. in Scot Buchan. alio●.  began, as I am instructed, in time of Hen. II. and had its Original of name from some Esterling, making that kind of money, which hath its essence in particular weight, & fineness, not of the Starling bird, as some, not of Sterlin in Scotland under Ed. I as others absurdly; for in 
g Polydor. hist. 16.  records much more ancient the express name Sterlingorun I have red) to the Clergy, and subject 
h Norff. 6. Rich. Fin. Rod. 13. & alibi in eisdem Archivis V.  all his dominions to the Pope; and so had absolution, and after more than IV. years release of the Interdict. I was the willinger to insert it all, because you might see what injurious opposition, by Papal usurpation, he endured; and then conjecture that his violent dealings against the church were not without intolerable provocation, which madded rather then amended his troubled spirits. Easily you shall not find a Prince more beneficial to the holy cause then he if you take his former part of reign before this ambitious Stephen of langton's election exasperated desire of revenge. 
i Ante alio● de hijsconsulondus at Matth. Paris.  Most kind habitude than was twixt him & the Pope, and for aims toward jerusalem's aid he gave the XL. part of his revenue, & caused his Baronage to second his example▪ Although therefore he be no ways excusable of many of those faults, both in government & religion which are laid on him, yet it much exrenuats the ill of his action, that he was so besieged with continual & undigestable incentives of the Clergy with traiterious confidence striking at his Crown, & in such sort, as humanity must have exceeded itself, to have endured it with any mixture of patience. Nor ever shall I impute that his wicked attempt of sending Ambassadors, Thomas Hardington, Relish Fi●●-Nicholas, and Robert of London, to Amiramuily, King of Morocco, for the Mahome●an Religion, so much to his own will and Nature, as to the persecuting Bulls, Interdicts, Excommunications, Deposing, and such like, published & acted by them which counterfeiting the vain name of Pastors, sheereing, and not feeding their Sheep, made this poor King (for they brought him so poor, that he was called 
* john Hadland.  johannes sive terra) even as a Phronetique, commit what posterity receives now among the worst actions (and in themselves they are so) of Princes.  
His Baronage were forced defensive Arms to raise.  
No sooner had Bandulph, transacted with the King, and Stephen of Langton was quietly possessed of his Archbishoprique, but he presently, in a Council of both Orders at Paul's, stirs up the hearts of the Barons against john, by producing the old Charter of liberties granted by Hen. I comprehending an instauration of S. Edward's laws, as they were amended by the Conqueror, and provoking them to challenge observation thereof as an absolute duty to subjects of free State. He was easily heard, and his thoughts seconded with rebellious designs: and after denials of this purposed request; armies were mustered to extort these Liberties. 
16. joh. Reg.  But at length by treaty in ●uingn●d near Stanes, he gave them two Charters; the one, of Liberty's general, the other of the Forest● both which were not very different from our Grand Charter of the Forest. 
K. john's grand Charter.  The Pope at his request confirmed all: but the same year, discontentment (through too much favour and respect given by the King to divers strangers, whom since the composition with the Legate, he had too frequently, and in too high esteem entertained) renewing among the Barons, Ambassadors were sent to advertise the Pope what injury the Sea of Rome had by this late Exaction of such liberties out of a Kingdom, in which it had such great interest (for King john had been very prodigal to it, of his best and most majestical Titles) and with what commotion the Barons had rebelled against him, soon obtained 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 broils in the State twixt King and subject: But in whom more, then in the Pope and his Archbishop, was cause of this dissension? Both, as wicked Boutefeus' applying themselves to both parts; sometimes animating the subject by censorious exauthorizing the Prince, than assisting and moving forward his proneness, to faithless abrogation, by pretence of an interceding universal authority.  
The general Charter seized—  
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. john; 
M. cc.xxv.  his son Henry III. of some IX. years age (under protection first of William Mareshall Earl of Penbroke, after the Earl's death. Peter de Rhodes Bishop of Winchester) in the ninth year of his reign, in a Parliament held at Westminster desired of the Baronage (by mouth of Hubert de Burch proposing it) a Fifteen: whereto upon deliberation, they gave answer, 
* That they would willingly grant his request, if he would vouchsafe them those Liberties so long desired.  quod Regis Petitionibus gratamtèr adquiesceren● si illis diù petitas Libertat●s concedere voluisset. The King agreed to the Condition, and presently under the great seal delivered Charters of them into every county of England, speaking as those of K. john (saith Paris) 
* So that the Charter of both Kings are just alike.  ita quod Chartae utrorúmque Regum in nullo invennintur dissimiles. Yet those, which we have, published want of that which is in K. john's, wherein you have a special Chapter that, if a jews debtor die, and leave his heir within age subject to payment, the Usury during the nonage should cease, which explains the meaning of the Statut of Merton Chap. V. Otherwise but ill interpreted in some of our year 
g 35. Hen. 6. fol. 61. & 3. Fliz. Ploughed 1. fol. ●36. atqui. V. Eract. lib. 8. cap. 26. §. 2.  books: After this, follows further, that no Aid, except, to reedem the Kings person out of Captivity (example of that was in Richard I. whose Ransom, out of the hands of Leopeld Duke of Austria, was near ↈ. pounds of silver, collected from the subject) make his eldest son Knight, or marry his eldest daughter, should be levied of the subject, but by Parliament. Yet, reason, why these are omitted in Hen. III. his Charter, it seems, easily may be given; seeing X. years before time of Edward Longshanks exemplification (which is that whereon we now rely, and only have) all jews were banished the kingdom: and among the Petitions, and Grievances of the Commons at time of his instauration of this Charter to them, one was thus consented to; 
* No Tallage or Aid without consent of Parliament should after be exacted.  Nullum Tallagium vel Auxilium, per nos vel Heredes nostros de catero in regno nostro imponatur s●uleuetur sine voluntate & Consensu communi Archiepiscoporum, Episcoporum, Abbatum & aliorum Praelatorum, Comitum, Baronum, Militum, Burgensium, & aliorum liberorum hominum: which although compared with that of Aides by Tenure, be no law, yet I conjecture that upon this article was that Chapter of Aides omitted. 
in●6 ●6. Fd. 1. Polyd. hist. 17.  But I return to Henry: He, within some three years, summons a Parliament to Oxford, and declares his full age, refusing any longer Peter de Roches his Protection; but taking all upon his personal government, by pretence of past nonage, caused all the Charters of the Forest to be canceled, and repealed the rest, (for so! take it, although my Author speak chiefly of that of the Forest) and made the subject with price of great sums, rated by his chief justice 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 disinheriting and seizing on his subjects possessions, without judicial course, beginning with those two great Potentates Richard Earl of Cornwall, his brother, and William le Martial Earl of Pembroke) bred most intestine trouble twixt him and his Barons, although sometime discontinued; yet not extinguished even till his declining days of enthroned felicity. Observe among this, that where our Historians and Chronologers, talk of a desire by the Baronage, to have the Constitutions of Oxford restored, you must understand those Charters canceled at Oxford; whereafter many rebellious, but provoked, oppositions the King at last, by oath of himself and his son Edward, in full Parliament 
h 42. Hen. 3.  (having nevertheless oft times before made show of as much) Granted again their desired freedom: which in his spacious reign, was not so much impeached by himself, as through ill Counsel of Alien caterpillars crawling about him, being as scourges then sent over into this Kingdom. But Robert of Gloucester shall summarily tell you this, and give your Palate variety.  
The mess woe that here vel by King Henry's day  
In this land Icholle biginne to tell yus Ich may,  
He add 
i Guy of Lusignan, William of Valence, and Athelmar, his half brothers, Sons of Isabel K. john's Dowager, daughter to Armar●●rle ●●rle of Engolisme, married to Hugh Browne Earl of March in Poiteer  three Brethren that is Modres sons were  
And the 
k Richard Earl of Cornwall son to K john.  King of Almain she verthe that to hey them here,  
At sir William de Valence and sir 
l Athelmarus.  Eimer thereto,  
Elit of Wincetre and sir Guy de Lisewi also  
Thoru hom and thoru the 
m Elinor daughter to Raimund Earl of Provewe.  Nuene was so much Frensi sole i brought  
That of English men me told as right naught,  
And the King hom let her will that each was as King  
And nome pour men god, and ne paiede nothing.  
To any of this brethren yus there pleinide any wight  
Hii sede, yuf we doth ou wrong, woe ssall ou do right:  
As woe seith we both Kings, ur will we mow do,  
And many Englisse alas hulde mid hom also.  
So that thorou Gods grace the Earls at last,  
And the Bishops of the land, and Barons bespeak vast,  
That the kind Englissemen of Land hii would out cast,  
And that long bring adown, yus her poor last.  
Thereof 
d They took.  hii no●●e counsel, and to the King hii send,  
To 
e Have.  abbe pite of his land and suiche manners amend.  
So there at last hii brought him thereto  
To make a purveyance amendment to do,  
And made it was at Oxenford, that land vor to seyte,  
Tuelf hundred as in year of Grace and fifty and eight.  
Right abouts Missomer fourteen night it last  
The Earls and the Barons were well 
f Steadfast.  stude vast  
Uor to amendt that land as the Earl of gloucester,  
Sir Richard, and sir Simond earl of Leicetre  
And sir john le Fiz-Geffry and other Barons enough  
So that at last the K. thereto hii drowe,  
To temue the Frensse men to 
g Live.  libbe beyond see  
By hor londs her and there and ne come nought 
h Again.  age.  
And to grantt 
i Good.  god laws and the Old Charter also  
That so oft was igranted er, and so oft undo.  
Hereof was the Chartre ●made and aseled vast there  
Of the King and of other hay men that there were:  
Thomas nome 
k Kindled tapers.  tend tapers the Bishops in hor hand  
And the K. himnselfe and other hay men of the land,  
The Bishops 
l Cursed.  amansed all that there agone were  
And ever est undude the laws that doked near there,  
Mid berninge taperes; and such as last,  
The King and others said Amen and the Tapers adown casts.  
If particulars of the story, with precedents and consequents, be desired, above all I send you to Matthew Paris, and William Rishanger, and end in adding that this so controverted Charters had not their settled surety until Ed. I Since whom they have been more than XXX. times, in Parliament confirmed.  
The seat on which her Kings inaugurated were.  
Which is the Chair and stone at Westminster, whereon our Sovereigns are inaugurated. The 
m Hector Both. hist. 1.10. & 14. Buchanan. Rer. Scotie. 6. & 8.  Scottish stories (on whose credit, in the first part hereof, I importune you not rely) affirm that the Stone was first in Gallicia of Spain at Brigantia (whether that be Compostella, as Francis Tarapha wills, or Coronna as Florian deal Campo conjectures, or Betansos' according to Mariana, I cannot determine) where Gathel, King of Scots there, sat on it as his throne: Thence was it brought into Ireland by Simon Breach first K. of Scots transplanted into that Isle, about DCC. years before Christ: Out of Ireland K. Forguz● (in him by some, is the beginning of the now continuing Scottish reign) about CCC.LXX. years 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 usual, as of our Monarch's now at Westminster, and in the Saxon times at Kingston upon Thames. This Kenneth, some say, first caused that Distich to be engraven on it.  
Ne fallat Fatum, Scoti, quocúnque locatum▪  
Iwenient lapidam, Regnare tonentur ibidem.  
(Whereupon it● called 
* The fatal Marble.  Fatale marmor in Hector Boetius) and enclosed it in a wooden Chair. It is now at Westminster, and on it are the Coronations of our Sovereigns; thither first brought (as the Author here speaks) among infinite other spoils, 
M.CC.XCVII 24. Ed. l.  by Edward Longshanks after his wars and victories against K. john Balliol.  
Their women to inherit—  
So they commonly affirm: but that denial of sovereignty to their women cost the life of many thousands of their men, both under this victorious Edward, and his son the Black Prince, and other of his successors. His case stood briefly thuss Philip IV. surnamed the Fair, 
Salic Law.  had issue III. sons, Lewes the 
* Hutin.  Contentious, Philip the Long, and Charles the Fair, (All these successively reigned after him, and died without issue inheritables) he had likewise a daughter Isabella (I purposely omit the other, being out of the present matter,) married to Edward II. and so was mother to Edward III. The issue male of Philip the Fair thus failing, Philip son and heir of Charles Earl of Valois, Beaumond, Alenson, etc. (which was brother to Philip the Fair,) challenged the Crown of France as next heir male against this Edward, who answered to the objection of the Salic law, that (admitting it as their assertion was, yet) he was Heir Male although descended of a daughter: and in a public assembly of the Estates first about the Protectorship of the womb, (for, Queen jone Dowager of the Fair Charles, was left with child, but afterward delivered of a daughter, Blanch, afterwards Duchess of Orleans) was this had in solemn disputation by Lawyers on both sides and applied at length also to the direct point of enheriting the Crown. What followed upon judgement given against his Right, the valiant and famous deeds of him and his English, recorded in Walsingham, Froissars, Aemilius, and the multitude of later collected stories make manifest. But for the Law itself; every mouth speaks of it, few I think understand at all why they name it. The opinions are, that it being part of the ancient Laws made among the Salians (the same with Franks) under King Pharamont about M.CC years since, hath thence denomination; and, G●ropius (that fetches all out of Dutch, and more tolerably perhaps this then many other of his Etymologies) deriving the Salians name from Sal, which in contraction he makes from 
k Franel●. lib. 2.  
* As our word Saddle.  saddle (Inventors whereof 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 Knights.  Chivalers in French, and Equites in Latin allows likewise. So that, upon collection, the Salic law by him is as much as a Chivalrous law, and Salic land 
m Which belonged to the preservation of chivalrous state in the possessors.  quae ad equestris Ordinis Dignitatem & in Capitae sum, & in cateris membris conseruandam pertinebat: which very well agrees with a 
n Bodin. de Repub. 6. cap. 5. V. Barth. Chaessan. Cons. Burgand. Rubric. 3. § 5. num. 70. as it were.  sentence given in the Parliament at Bordeaux upon an ancient Testament devising all the Testators Salic lands, which was, in point of judgement, interpreted 
o Knight's fees, or Lands held.  Fief. And who knows not, that Fiefs, were Originally, military gift. But then, if so, how come Salic to extend to the Crown, which is merely without Tenure? Therefore 
p Paul. Merul. Cosmog. part. 2. lib. 3. cap. 17.  Egoscio (saith a later 
q I know that the Salic law intends only Private possessions.  Lawyer) legem salieam agere de Private Patrimonis tantùm. It was composed (not this alone, but with others as they say) by Wisogast, Bodogast, Salogast, and Windogast, wise Counsellors about that Pharamunds' reign. The text of it in this part is offered us by claud de Scissell Bishop of Marsillot, Bodin, and divers others of the French, as it were as ancient as the Origine of the name, and in these words 
* No part of the Salic Land can descend to the daughter, but all to the mas●e.  De Terra Salica nulla Porito Haereditatis Musteriveniat, sed advirilem sexum Tota terrae Hereditas perveniat, and in substance, as referred to the person of the King's heir female; so much is remembered by that great Civilian 
h Ad l. ss. de 〈◊〉.  Ballus, and divers others, but rather as Custom then any particular law, as one 
i Hierome dignon. De L' Excel. des Roies Liure. 3. * this is no law written, but learned of Nature.  of that kingdom also hath expressly and newly written; Ce n'est point une loy é critte, ●ais nee autenous, que nous n'auons pointinuentee, mais l'auons puisie de la nature méme, qui le nous a ainsi apris & donnécet instinct; But why, the same author dares affirm that King Edward yielded upon this point to the French Philip de Valois, I wonder, seeing all story & carriage of state in those times is so manifestly opposite. Becaulis undertakes a conjecture of the first cause which excluded Gynaecocracie among them, guessing it to be upon their observation of the misfortune in war, which their neighbours the Bructerans (a people about the now Over Issel in the Netherlands, from near whom he as, many other first derive the Franks) endured in time of Vespesian, under Conduct & Empire of one 
k V. Tacit. Histor. 4.  Vellida, a Lady even of Divine esteem amongst them. But howsoever the law be in truth, or interpretable, (for it might ill beseem me to offer determination in matter of this kind) it is certain, that to this day, they have an use of ancient 
l Rodulph. B●ter. Commentar. 8.  time which commits to the care of some of the greatest Peers, that they, when the Queen is in Childbirth, be present, and warily observe lest the Ladies privily should sergeant the enheritable Sex, by supposing some other made when the true Birth is female, or, by any such means, wrong their ancient Custom Royal, as of the Birth of this present Lewes the XIII. on the last of September, in M.DC.I is, after other such remembered.  
Of these two factions styled, of York and Lancaster.  
Briefly their beginning was thus. Edward the III. had VII. sons, 
Ex Archiu. Parl. 1 Ed. 4. in lucem Edit. 9 Ed. 4. fol. 9  Edward the Black Prince, William of Hatfeild, Lionel D. of Clarence, john of Gaunt, D. of Lancaster, Edmund of Langley D. of York, Thomas of Woodstock, and William of Windsor, in prerogative of birth as I name them. The Black Prince died in life of his Father, leaving Richard of Bordeaux (afterward the II.) William of Hatfield died without issue; Henry D. of Lancaster (son to john of Gaunt the fourth brother) deposed Richard the II. and to the V. and VI of his name left the kingdom 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 married to Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March (who upon this title was designed Heir apparent to Rich. II.) Edmund, by her had Roger; to Roger was issue II. sons, and II. daughters: but all died without posterity, excepting Anne; through her married to Richard Earl of Cambridge, son to Edmund of Langley was conveyed (to their Issue Richard D. of York Father to K. Eward IV.) that right which Lionel (whose heir she was) had before the rest of that Royal stem. So that Lancaster derived itself from the IV. brother; York, from the blood of the III. & V. united. And in time of the VI Henry was this fatal and enduring misery over England, about determination of these titles, first conceived in XXX. of his reign by Richard D. of York, whose son Ed. IV. deposed Henry some IX. years after, and having reigned near like space, was also, by readoption of Henry, deprived for a time, but restored and died of it possessed, in whose family it continued until after death of Rich. III. Henry Earl of Richmond, and Heir of Lancaster marrying Elizabeth the Heir of York made that happy union. Some have referred the vemost 
m Ap. Polydor. hist. 16.  root of the Lancastrian title to Edmund, indeed eldest son to Hen. III. but that by reason of his unfit deformity, his younger brother Edward had the succession, which is absurd and false. For, one whom I believe before most of our Monks, and the K. 
Name of Plantagenest. . Chronologer of those times, Matthew Paris, tells expressly and days and years of both their births, 
* See to the end of the IV. Song.  and makes Edward above four years elder than Crook-back. All these had that most honoured surname 
n 33. Hen. 8. I. Slou. pag. 717. White & Red Roses, for York and Lancaster. romans pag. ●61.  Plantagenest; which hath been extinct among us ever since Margaret Countess of Salisbury (daughter to George Plantagenet D. of Clarence) was beheaded in the Tower. By reason of john of Gaunts device being a Red Rose, & Edmund of Langleys a white Rose, these two factions afterward, as for Cogniscanes of ●heir descent and inclinations, were by the same Flowers distinguished.  
Yet jealous of his right descended to his grave.  
So jealous, that towards them of the Lancastrian faction naught but death (as, there, reason of State was enough) was his kindness. Towards strangers, whose slipping words were in wrested sense, seeming interpretable to his hurt, how he carried himself, the Relations of Sir john Markham, his chief justice, Thomas Burdet an Esquire of Warwickshire, and some Citizens; for idle speeches are testimony. How to his own blood in that miserable end of his brother George, D. of Clarence, is showed: Whose death hath divers reported causes, as our late Chroniclers tell you. One is supposed upon a prophecy for speaking that Edward's successors name should begin with G; which made him suspect this George (a kind of superstition not exampled, 
Of George D. of Clarence.  as I now remember, among our Princes; but in proportion very frequent in the oriental Empire, as passages of the names in Alexius, Manuel, & others, discover in Nicetas Chroniates) and many more serious, yet insufficient faults (rafting of Richard D. of gloucester's practices) are laid to his charge. Let Polydore, Hall, and the rest disclose them. But, of his death, I cannot omit, what I have newly seen. You know, it is commonly affirmed, that he was drowned in a hogshead of Malmsey at the Tower. One, 
a Francise. Matenes De Rit● Bibend. 1. cap. 1. edit. superioribus Nundinis.  that very lately would needs dissuade men from drinking healths to their Princes, Friends, and Mistresses, as the fashion is a Bachelor of Divinity and Professor of Story and Greek at Cologne, in his dwision of Drunken natures, makes one part of them, 
b Which would wish themselves Whales, ●o the Sea were strong liquor.  Qui in balaenas mutari cuperent, du●●●odo ma●e in generosissimum vinum transformaretur, and for want of an other example, dares deliver, that, such a one was George 
c Comes Clarentia. Caterum Aevo Normanico indiscriminatim Comes & Du● usurpantur, & William. Conquestor sapius dictus Comes Nor●●.  Earl of Clarence, who, when, for suspicion of Treason, he was judged to die, by his brother Edward IU. and had election of his form of death, given him, made choice to be drowned in Malmsey. First, why he calls him Earl of Clarence, I believe not all his Professed History can justify; neither indeed was ever among us any such honour. Earls of 
d From Clare in Suffolk. V. Polydor. hist. 19 & Camd. in I●enis.  Clare long since were: but the title of Clarence began when that Earldom was converted into a Dukedom by creation of Lionel (who married with the heir of the Clares) Duke of Clarence. III. son to Ed. III. since whom never have been other than Dukes, of that Dignity. But, unto what I should impute this unexcusable injury to the dead Prince, unless to Icarius shadow, dazzling the writer's eyes, or Bacchus his revengeful causing him to slip in matter of his own Profession, I know not. Our Stories make the death, little better than a tyrannous murder, privily committed without any such election. If he have other Authority for it, I would his margin had been so kind, as to have imparted it.  
Upon a Daughter borne to john of Somerset.  
john of Gaunt, D. of Lancaster, had issue by Catharine Swinford, john of Beufort Earl of Somerset, and Marques Dorset: To him succeeded his second son, john (Henry the eldest dead) and was created first D. of Somerset by Hen. V. Of this Iohns●oines ●oines was Margaret, Mother to Henry VII. His Father was Edmund of Hath me (made Earl of Richmond, by Hen. VI) son to Owen Tyddeur (deriving himself from the British Cadwallader) by his wife Q. Catherine, Dowager to Hen. V. and hence came that royally ennobled name of Tyddeur; which In the late Queen of happy memory ended.  
Defender of the Faith—  
When amongst those turbulent commotions of Lutherans and Romanists under Charles V. such oppositions increased, that the Pope's three Crowns even tottered at such Arguments as were published against his Pardons, 
13. Hen. 8.  Mass, Monastique profession, and the rest of such doctrine; This K. Henry (that Luther might want no sorts of Antagonists) wrote particularly against him in Defence of Pardons, the Papacy, and of their VII. Sacraments: of which is yet remaining the Original in the 
g Francise. Swe●t. in Debt. Orbis Christ.  Vatican at Rome, and with the Kings own hand thus inscribed, 
* Henry, K. of England, sends this to Pope Leo X. as a testimony of his Faith, and love to him.  Anglorum Rex, HENRICUS, LEONI X. mittit hoc Opus, & Fideitestem & Amicitia.  
Hereupon, this Leo sent him the title of 
* Defensor Ecclesia I. Sloidams Comment. 3.  Defender of the faith: which was, as Ominous to what ensued. For towards the XXV. year of his reign, he began so to examine their Traditions, Doctrine, Lives, 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 Son Edward VI Q. ELIZABETH, and our present Sovereign hath been to this day piously established and Defended.  
To ease your conceit of these Kings here sung, I add this Chronologie of them.  
M.LXVI. 
William I. conquered England.  M.LXXXVII. 
William the Red (Rufus) second Son to the Conqueror.  M.C. 
Henry I. surnamed Beuclerc, third son to the first William.  M.C.XXXV. 
Stephen Earl of Moreton, and Bologne, son to Stephen Earl of Blois by Adela daughter to the Conqueror. 
In Matth. Paris disputation.  In both the prints of Math. Paris, (An. M.LXXXVI.) You must mend Beccensis Comitis, and read Blesensis Comitis; and howsoever it comes to pass, he is, in the same Author, made Son to Tedbald Earl of Blois, which indeed was his brother.  M.C.LIV. 
Henry II. Son to Geoffrey Plantagenest Earl of Anio●, and Maude the Empress, daughter to Henry Beuclere.  M.C.LXXXIX. 
Richard I Ceur de Lion, Son to Henry II.  M. C.CXIX. 
john, Brother to Ceur de Lion.  M.CC.XVI. 
Hen. III. Son to K. john.  M.CC.LXXIII. 
Edward I Longshanks, Son to Hen. III.  M.CCC.VIII. 
Edward II. of Caernaruan, Son to Ed. I. deposed by his Wife and Son.  M.CCC.XXVI. 
Edward III. Son to Edward. II.  M.CCC.LXXXVII. 
Richard II. of Bordeaux (son to Ed. the Black Prince, son to Ed. III) deposed by Henry D. of Lancaster.  M.CCC.XCIX. 
Henry IU. of Bolingbroke; son to john of Gaunt D. of Lancaster fourth son to Ed. III.  M.CD.XIII. 
Henry V. of Monmouth, son to Hen. IU.  M.CD.XXII. 
Henry VI of Windsor, son to Hen. V. deposed by Edward Earl of March, son and heir to Richard D. of York, deriving title from Lionel D. of Clarence and Edmund of Langley III. & V. Sons of Ed. III.  M.CD.LX 
Edward IU. of Roan, son and heir of York. In the X. of his reign Hen. VI got again the Crown, but soon lost both it, and life.  M. CD.XXCIII. 
Edward V. son to the IV. of that name, murdered with his brother Richard D. of York, by his Uncle Richard D. of Gloucester.  M. CD.XXCIII. 
Richard III. Brother to Edward IV. slain at Bosworth field, by Henry Earl of Richmond. In him ended the name of Plantagenet in our Kings.  M. CD.XXCV. 
Henry VII. Heir to the Lancastrian family, married with Elizabeth, Heir to the house of York. In him the name of Tyddour, began in the Crown.  M.D.IX 
Henry VIII. of Greenwich, son to Hen. VII.  M.D.XLVI. 
Edward VI of Hampton Court, son to Hen. VIII.  M.D.LIII 
Marry, sister to Edward VI.  M.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 called the Down's which in 
d Dunum uti ex Clitophonte apud Plut. habet Cand. & Duynen Belgis dicuntur T●muli Aenarij Oceane objects. Gorop. Gal●c. 1. Alij.  British, old Gaulish, Low Dutch, and our English signifies but Hills) being all woody, was called Andredsweald 
e We yet call a Desert, a wilderness from this root.  ●. Andredswood, often mentioned in our stories, and Newenden in Kent by it Andredcester (as most learned Camden upon good reason guesses) whence perhaps the Wood had his name. To this day we call those woody Lands, by North the Downs, the Weald: and the Channel of the River that comes out of those parts, & discontinues the Downs about Bramber, is yet known in Shorham Ferry, by the name of Weald-dich; and, in another Saxon word equivalent to it, are many of the Parishes Terminations on this side the Downs. that is, Herst, or Hurst. i. a wood. It is called by Ethelwerd 
f Lib. 4. cap. 3.  expressly 
g Wood, called Andredswood.  Immanis sylua, que vulgò Andredsuuda nuncupatur, and was 
h Henric. Huntingdon hist. 5. in Alfredo.  CXX. miles long, & XXX. broad. The Author's conceit of these Forests being nymphs of this Great Andredsuuda, & their complaint for loss of Woods, in Sussex, so decayed, is plain enough to every Reader.  
As Arun which doth name the beutious Arundel.  
So it is conjectured, and is without controversy justifiable if that be the name of the River. Some, fable it from Arundel, the name of Bevis horse: It were so as tolerable as 
i Plutarch in Alex. & R. Curt. lib 9  Bucephalon, from Alexander's horse, 
k Steph. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  Tymenna in Lycia from a Goat of that name, and such like, if time would endure it: But Bevis was about the Conquest, and this Town, is by name of Erundele, known in time of King Alfred 
l Testament. Alfred. ubi etiam. Ritheramfeild, Diccalingum, Angmeringum. Felthan. & aliae in hoc agro Villae legantur O●fertho eiusdem Cognato.  who gave it with others to his Nephew Athelm. Of all men, 
m Goth●danic. lib. 7.  Goropius had somewhat a violent conjecture, when he derived Harondell, from a people called Charudes (in Ptolemy, towards the utmost of the now juitland) part of whom he imagines (about the Saxon and Danish eruptions) planted themselves here, and by difference of dialect, left this as a branch sprung of their Country title.  
And Adur coming on to Shoreham.  
This River that here falls into the Ocean might well be understood in that 
n Portus Adurni in Notit. Pro●ius.  Port of Adur, about this coast, the relics whereof, 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 slain.  
In the Plain near Hastings, where the Norman William after his victory found King Harold slain, he built Battle Abbey, which at last (as divers other Monasteries) grew to a Town enough populous. Thereabout is a place which after rain always looks red, which some 
o Guil. Parum hist. 1. cap. 1.  have (by that authority, the Muse also) attributed to a very bloody sweat of the earth, as crying to heaven for Revenge of so great a slaughter.    

  

The eighteenth Song.  
* THE ARGUMENT.  
The Rother through the Weald doth rove,  
Till he with Oxney fall in love:  
Rumney, would with her wealth beguile,  
And win the River from the I'll.  
Medway, with her attending Streams,  
Goes forth to meet her Lord great Tames:  
And where in breath she her disperses,  
Our Famous Captains she rehearses,  
With many of their valiant deeds.  
Then with Kent's praise the Muse proceeds.  
And tells when Albion o'er Sea road,  
How he ●is daughter-Iles bestowed;  
And how grim Goodwin fames and frets:  
Where to this Song, an end she sets.  
Our Argas scarcely yet delivered of her son,  
When as the River down, through Andredsweald doth run:  
Nor can the aged Hill have comfort of her child.  
For, living in the Woods, her Rother waxed wild;  
His Banks with aged Okes, and Bushes overgrown,  
That from the Syluans kind▪ he hardly could be known:  
Yea, many a time the Nymphs, which happed this Flood to see,  
Fled from him, whom they sure a Satire thought to be;  
As Satyre-like he held all pleasures in disdain,  
And would not once vouchsafe, to look upon a Plain▪  
Till chancing in his course he to view a goodly plot,  
Which Albion in his youth, upon a Sea Nymph got,  
For Oxney's love he pines▪ who being wildly chaste,  
And never wooed before, was coy to be embraced.  
But, what obdurate heart was ever so perverse,  
Whom yet a lovers plaints, with patience, could not pierce?  
For, in this conflict she being lastly o●erthrowne,  
In-Iled in his Arms, he eclipse her for his own.  
Who being gross and black, she liked the River well.  
Of rother's happy match, when Rumney Marsh heard tell,  
Whyl'st in his youth full course himself he doth apply,  
And falleth in her sight into the Sea at Rye,  
She thinketh with herself, how she a way might find  
To put the homely I'll quite out of rother's mind; 
A description of Rumney Marsh.   
Appearing to the Flood, most bravely like a Queen,  
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 quivering reeds:  
Which loosely flowing down, upon her lusty thighs,  
Most strongly seem to tempt the Rivers amorous eyes.  
And on her loins a frock, with many a swelling pleat,  
Embossed with well-spread Horse, large Sheep, and full-fed Neat.  
Some wallowing in the grass, there lie a while to batten;  
Some sent away to kill; some thither brought to fatten;  
With Villages amongst, oft powthred here and there;  
And (that the same more like to 
* The natural expressing of the surface of a Country in Painting.  Landscape should appear)  
With Lakes and lesser Foards, to mitigate the heat  
(In Summer when the Fly doth prick the gadding Neat,  
Forced from the Brakes, where late they browsed the velvet buds)  
In which, they lick their Hides, and chew their savoury Cuds.  
Of these her amorous toys, when Oxney came to know,  
Suspecting least in time her rival she might grow,  
Th'allu●rments of the Marsh, the jealous I'll do move,  
That to a constant course, she thus persuades her Love:  
With Rumney, though for dower I stand in no degree;  
In this, to be beloved yet liker far than she:  
Though I be brown, in me there doth no favour lack.  
The foul is said deformed: and she, extremely black.  
And though her rich attire, so curious be and rare,  
From her there yet proceed● unwholesome putrid air:  
Where my complexion more suits with the higher ground,  
Upon the lusty Weald, where strength doth still abound.  
The Wood-gods I refused, that s●'d to me for grace,  
Me in thy watery Arms, thee suffering to embrace▪  
Where, to great Neptune she may one day be a pray:  
The Sea-gods in her lap lie wallowing every day.  
And what, though of her strength she seem to make no doubt?  
Yet put unto the proof she'll hardly hold him out.  
With this persuasive speech which Oxney lately used,  
With strange and sundry doubts, whilst Rother stood confused,  
Old 
See to the XVII. Song.  Andredsweald at length doth take her time to tell  
The changes of the world, that since her youth befell,  
When yet upon her soil, scarce human foot had trodden;  
A place where only then, the Syluans made abode.  
Where, fearless of the Hunt, the Hart securely stood,  
And every where walked free a Burgess of the Wood;  
Until those Danish routs, whom hunger-starved at home,  
(Like Wolves pursuing prey) about the world did roam.  
And stemming the rude stream dividing us from France,  
Into the spacious mouth of Rother fell (by chance)  
§. That Lymen then was named, when (with most irksome care)  
The heavy Danish yoke, the servile English bare.  
And when at last she found, there was no way to leave  
Those, whom she had at first been forced to receive;  
And by her great resort, she was through very need,  
Constrained to provide her peopled Towns to feed.  
She learned the churlish axe and twybill to prepare,  
To steel the coulters' edge, and sharp the furrowing share:  
And more industrious still, and only hating sloth,  
A housewife she became, most skilled in making cloth. 
Kentish Cloth.   
That now the Draper comes from London every year,  
And of the Kentish sorts, make his provision there.  
Whose skirts ('tis said) at first that fifty furlongs went,  
Have lost their ancient bounds, now 
* The Weald of Kent.  limited in Kent.  
Which strongly to approve, she Medway forth did bring,  
From Sussex who ('tis known) receives her silver Spring.  
Who towar'ds the lordly Tames, as she along doth strain,  
Where Teise, clear Beule, and Len, bear up her limber train  
As she removes in state: so for her more renown,  
Her only name she leaves, t'her only 
* Maidstone. i. Medway's town.  christened Town;  
And Rochester doth reach, in entering to the Bower  
Of that most matchless Tames, her princely Paramour.  
Whose bosom doth so please her Sovereign (with her pride)  
Whereas the royal Fleet continually doth ride,  
That where she told her Tames, she did intend to sing  
What to the English Name immortal praise should bring;  
To grace his goodly Queen, Tames presently proclaims,  
That all the Kentish Floods, resigning him their names,  
Should presently repair unto his mighty Hall,  
And by the posting Tides, towards London sends to call  
Clear Ravensburne (though small, remembered them among)  
At Detford entering. Whence as down she comes along,  
She Darent thither warns: who calls her sister Cray,  
Which hasten to the Court with all the speed they may.  
And but that Medway then of Tames obtained such grace,  
Except her country Nymphs, that none should be in place,  
More Rivers from each part, had instantly been there,  
Then at their marriage, first, by 
* In the Fairy Queen.  Spenser numbered were.  
This Medway still had nursed those navies in her Road,  
Our Armies that had oft to conquest borne abroad;  
And not a man of ours, for Arms hath famous been,  
Whom she not going out, or coming in hath seen:  
Or by some passing Ship, hath news to her been brought,  
What brave exploits they did; as where, and how, they fought.  
Wherhfore, for audience now, she to th'assembly calls,  
The Captains to recite when seriously she falls.  
Of noble warriors now, saith she, shall be my Song;  
Of those renowned spirits, that from the Conquest sprung,  
Of th'English Norman blood: which, matchless for their might,  
Have with their flaming swords, in many a dreadful fight,  
Illustrated this Isle, and bore her fame so far;  
Our Heroes, which the first wan, in that Holy war,  
Such fear from every foe, and made the East more red,  
With splendour of their Arms, then when from Tithon's bed  
The blushing dawn doth break; towards which our fame begun,  
By Robert (Curt-hose called) the Conquerors eldest son,  

Peter, the Hermit.  Who with great Godfrey and that holy Hermit went  
The Sepulchre to free, with most devoutintent.  
And to that title which the Norman William got,  
When in our Conquest here, he strove t'include the Scot,  
The General of our power, that stout and warlike Earl,  
Who English being borne, was styled of Aubemerle;  
Those Lacies then no less courageous, which had there  
The leading of the day, all, brave Commanders were.  
Sir Walter Especk, matched with Peuerell, which as far  
Adventured for our fame: who in that Bishop's war,  
Immortal honour got to Stephen's troubled reign:  
That day ten thousand Scots upon the field were slain.  
The Earl of Strigule than our Strong-bowe, first that won  
Wild Ireland with the sword (which, to the glorious sun,  
Lifts up his nobler name) amongst the rest may stand.  
In Cure de Lion's charge unto the Holy-land,  
Our Earl of Leicester, next, to rank with them we bring:  
And Turnham, ●e that took th'imposterous Cyprian King.  
Strong Tuchet chose to wield the English standard there;  
Poole, Gourney, Nevil, Gray, Lyle, Ferres, Mortimer:  
And more, for want of pens whose deeds not brought to light,  
It grieves my zealous soul, I can not do them right.  
The noble Pembroke then, who Strong-bowe did succeed,  
Like his brave Grandsire, made th'revolting Irish bleed,  
When yielding oft, they oft their due subjection broke;  
And when the Britan's scorned, to bear the English yoke,  
Lewellin Prince of Wales in Battle overthrew,  
Nine thousand valiant Welsh and either took or slew.  
Earl Richard, his brave son, of Strong-bowes matchless strain,  
As he a Marshal was, did in himself retain  
The nature of that word, being Martial, like his name:  
Who, as his valiant Sire, the Irish oft did tame.  
With him we may compare Marisco (King of Men)  
That Lord chief justice was of Ireland, whereas then  
Those two brave Burrowes, john, and Richard, had their place,  
Which through the bloodied Bogs, those Irish oft did chase;  
Whose deeds may with the best deservedly be read.  
As those two Lacies then, our English Powers that led:  
Which twenty thousand, there, did in one Battle quell,  
Amongst whom (trodden down) the King of Conaugh fell.  
Then Richard, that loved Earl of Cornwall, here we set:  
Who, rightly of the race of great Plantagenet,  
Our English Armies shipped, to gain that hallowed ground,  
With Longsword the brave son of beauteous Rosamond:  
The pagan through the breasts, like thunderbolts that shot;  
And in the utmost East such admiration got,  
That the shril-sounding blast, and terror of our fame  
Hath often conquered, where, our swords yet never came:  
As Gifford, not forgot, their stout associate there.  
So in the wars with Wales, of ours as famous here,  
Guy Beuchamp, that great Earl of Warwick, place shall have:  
From whom, the Cambrian Hills the welshmen could not save;  
Whom he, their general plague, impetuously pursued,  
And in the British gore his slaughtering sword imbrued.  
In order as they rise (next Beuchamp) we prefer  
The Lord john Gifford, matched with Edmond Mortimer;  
Men rightly moulded up, for high adventurous deeds.  
In this renowned rank of warriors than succeeds  
Walwin, who with such skill our Armies oft did guide;  
In many a dangerous strait, that had his knowledge tried.  
And in that fierce assault, which caused the fatal flight,  
Where the distressed Welsh resigned their Ancient right,  
Stout Frampton: by whose hand, their Prince Lewellin fell.  
Then followeth (as the first who have deserved as well)  
Great Saint-Iohn; from the French, which twice recovered Guyne:  
And he, all him before that clearly did outshine,  
Warren, the puissant Earl of Surrey, which led forth  
Our English Armies oft into our utmost North;  
And oft of his approach made Scotland quake to hear,  
When Tweed hath sunk down flat, within her Banks for fear.  
On him there shall attend, that most adventurous Twhing,  
That at Scambekin fight, the English off did bring  
Before the furious Scot, that else were like to fall.  
As Basset, last of these, yet not the least of all  
Those most renowned spirits that Fowkerk bravely fought;  
Where Long-shanks, to our lore, Albania lastly brought.  
As, when our Edward first his title did advance,  
And led his English hence, to win his right in France,  
That most deserving Earl of Derby we prefer,  
Henry's third valiant son, the Earl of Lancaster,  
That only Mars of Men; who (as a general scourge,  
Sent by just-judging Heaven, outrageous France to purge)  
At Cagant plagued the Power of Flemings that she raised,  
Against the English force: which as a handsel seized,  
Into her very heart he marched in warlike wise;  
Took Bergera, Langobeck, Mountdurant, and Mountguyse;  
Leave, Po●dra, and Punach, Mount-Segre, Forsa, won;  
Mountpesans, and Beumount, the Ryall, Aiguillon,  
Rochmillon, Mauleon, Franch, and Ang●lisme surprised;  
With Castles, Cities, Forts, nor Provinces sufficed.  
Then took the Earl of Leyle: to conduct whom there came  
Nine viscounts, Lords, and Earls, astonished at his name.  
To Gascoigne than he goes (to plague her, being priest)  
And manfully himself of Mirabell possessed;  
Surgeres, and Alnoy, Benoon, and Mortaine struck:  
And with a fearful siege, he Taleburg lastly took;  
With prosperous success, in lesser time did win  
Maximien, Lusingham, Mount-Sorrell, and Bonin;  
Sacked Poitiers: which did, then, that Country's treasure hold;  
That not a man of ours would touch what was not gold.  
With whom our 
* Sr Walter Ma●●y.  Maney here deservedly doth stand,  
Which first Inventor was of that courageous band,  
Who closed their left eyes up; as, never to be freed,  
Till there they had achieved some high adventurous deed.  
He first into the press at Cagant conflict slew;  
And from amidst a grove of gleaves, and halberds drew  
Great Derby beaten down; t'amaze the men of war,  
When he for England cried, S. George, and Lancaster:  
And as mine author tells (in his high courage, proud)  
Before his going forth, unto his Mistress vowed,  
He would begin the war: and, to make good the same,  
Then setting foot in France, there first with hostile flame  
Forced Mortain, from her Towers, the neighbouring Towns to light;  
That suddenly they caught a Fever with the fright.  
Thin Castle (near the Town of Cambray) ours he made;  
And when the Spanish powers came Britanne to invade, 
Little Brittanne in France.   
Both of their aids and spoils, them utterly bereft.  
This English Lion, there, the Spaniards never left,  
Till from all air of France, he made their Lewes fly,  
And Fame herself, to him, so amply did apply,  
That when the most unjust Calicians had forethought,  
Into that Town (than ours) the Frenchmen to have brought,  
The King of England's self, 
Edward III. and the Black-Prince.  and his renowned son  
(By those perfidious French to see what would be done)  
Under his Guidon marched, as private soldiers 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, here well I cannot pass;  
That brave and godlike brood of Beuchamps, which so long  
Them Earls of Warwick held; so hardy, great, and strong,  
That after of that name it to an Adage grew,  
If any man himself adventurous happed to show,  
Bold Beuchampe men him termed, 
Bold Beuchamp; a Proverb.  if none so bold as he.  
With those our Beuchamps, may our Bourchers reckoned be.  
Of which, that valiant Lord, most famous in those days,  
That hazarded in France so many dangerous frays:  
Whose blade in all the fights betwixt the French and us,  
Like to a Blazing-starre was ever ominous;  
A man, as if by Mars upon Bellona got.  
Next him, stout Cobham comes, that with as prosperous lot  
Th'English men hath led; by whose auspicious hand,  
We often have been known the Frenchmen to command.  
And Harcourt, though by birth an Alien; yet, ours won,  
By England after held her dear adopted son:  
Which oft upon our part was bravely proved to do,  
Who with the hardest attempts Fame earnestly did woo:  
To Paris-ward, that when the Amiens fled by stealth  
(Within her mighty walls to have enclosed their wealth)  
Before her bulwarkt gates the Burgesses he took;  
Whilst the Parisians, thence that sadly stood to look,  
And saw their faithful friends so woefully bestead,  
Not once durst issue out to help them, for their head.  
And our john Copland; here courageously at home  
Whilst every where in France, those far abroad do roam)  
That at Newcastle fight (the Battle of the Queen,  
Where most the English hearts were to their Sovereign seen)  
took David King of Scots, his prisoner in the fight.  
Nor could these wars employ our only men of might:  
But as the Queen by these did mighty things achieve;  
So those, to Britain sent the Countess to relieve,  
As any yet of ours, two knights as much that dared,  
Stout Dangorn, and with him strong Hartwell honour shared;  
The dreaded Charles de Bloyes, that at Rochdarren bet,  
And on the Royal seat, the Countess Mountfort set.  
In each place where they came so fortunate were ours.  
Then, Audley, most renowned amongst those valiant powers,  
That with the Prince of Wales at conquered poitiers fought;  
Such wonders that in Arms before both Armies wrought;  
The first that charged the French; and, all that dreadful day,  
Through still renewing worlds of danger made his way;  
The man that scorned to take a prisoner (through his pride)  
But by plain downright death the title to decide.  
And after the retreat, that famous Battle done,  
Wherein, rich spacious France was by the English won,  
Five hundred marks in Fee, that noblest Prince bestowed  
For his so brave attempts, through his high courage showed.  
Which to his four Esquires 
* The honourable bounty of the Lord Audley.  he freely gave, who there  
Vied valour with their Lord; and in despite of fear,  
Oft fetched that day from death, where wounds gaped wide as hell;  
And cries, and parting groans, whereas the Frenchmen fell,  
Even made the Victors grieve, so horrible they were.  
Our Dabridgcourt the next shall be remembered here,  
At poitiers who broke in upon the Alman Horse  
Through his too forward speed: but, taken by their force,  
And after, by the turn of that so doubtful fight,  
Being reskewed by his friends in poitiers fearful sight,  
Then like a Lion ranged about th'enemies' host:  
And where he might suppose the danger to be most,  
Like Lightning entered there, to his French-foes dismay,  
To gratify his friends which reskewed him that day.  
Then Chandos: whose great deeds found Fame so much to do,  
That she was lastly forced, him for her ease to woo;  
That Minion of dread Mars, which almost over-shone  
All those before him were, and for him none scarce known,  
At Cambray's scaled wall his credit first that won;  
And by the high exploits in France by him were done,  
Had all so over-awed, that by his very name  
He could remove a siege: and Cities where he came  
Would at his Summons yield. That man, the most beloved,  
In all the ways of war so skilful and approved,  
The 
* The Black-Prince.  Prince at poitiers chose his person to assist.  
This stout Herculean stem, this noble Martialist,  
In battle twixt brave Bloys and noble Mountfort, tried  
At Array, than the right of Britain to decide,  
Raged like a furious storm beyond the power of man,  
Where valiant Charles was slain, and the stern English won  
The royal British rule to Mountforts nobler name.  
He took strong Tarryers' in, and Anjou oft did tame.  
Gavaches he regained, and us Rochmad●r got.  
Where ever laid he siege that he invested not?  
As this brave Warrior was, so no less dear to us,  
The rival in his fame, his only amulus,  
Renowned Sir Robert Knowles, that in his glories shared,  
His chivalry and oft in present perils dared;  
As Nature should with Time, at once by these consent  
To show, that all their store they idly had not spent.  
He Vermandoise or'e-ranne with skill and courage high:  
Notoriously he plagued revolting Picardy:  
That up to Paris walls did all before him win,  
And dared her at her gates (the King that time within)  
A man that all his deeds did dedicated to fame.  
Then those stout Percyes, john, and Thomas, men of name.  
The valiant Gourney, next, deservedly we grace,  
And Howet, that with him assumes as high a place.  
Strong Trivet, all whose ends at great adventures shot:  
That conquered us Mount Pin, and Castle Carcilot,  
As famous in the French, as in the Belgic war;  
Who took the Lord Brimewe; and with the great Navarre,  
In Papaloon, attained an everlasting praise.  
Courageous Carill next, than whom those glorious days  
Produced not any spirit that through more dangers swum.  
That princely Thomas, next, the Earl of Buckingham,  
To Brittany through France that our stout English brought,  
Which under his Command with such high fortune fought  
As put the world in fear Rome from her cinders rose,  
And of this Earth again meant only to dispose.  
Thrice valiant Hackwood then, outshining all the rest,  
From London at the first a poor mean soldier priest  
(That time but very young) to those great wars in France,  
By his brave service there himself did so advance,  
That afterward, the heat of those great Battles done  
(In which he to his name immortal glory won)  
Leading six thousand Horse, let his brave Guidon fly.  
So, passing through East France, and entering Lombardie,  
By th'greatness of his fame, attained so high Command,  
That to his charge he got the white Italian Band.  
With 
* The marquess of Mountferato.  Mountferato then in all his wars he went:  
Whose clear report abroad by Fame's shrill trumpet sent,  
Wrought, that with rich rewards him Milan after won,  
To aid her, in her wars with Mant●a then begun;  
By 
* Brother to Galeazo, Viscount of Milan.  Barnaby, there made the Milanezes' guide:  
His daughter, who, to him, fair Domina, affied.  
For Gregory then the twelfth, he dangerous Battles struck,  
And with a noble siege revolted Pavia took.  
And there, as Fortune rose, or as she did decline,  
Now with the Pisan served, then with the Florentine:  
The use of th'English Bows to Italy that brought;  
By which he, in those wars, seemed wonders to have wrought.  
Our Henry Hotspur next, for high achievements meet,  
Who with the thundering noise of his swift Coursers feet,  
Astund the earth, that day, that he in H●lmdon's strife  
took Douglas, with the Earls of Anguish, and of Fyfe.  
And whilst those hardy Scots, upon the firm earth bled,  
With his revengeful sword swicht after them that fled.  
Then Caluerley, which kept us Calais with such skill,  
His honoured room shall have our Catalogue to fill:  
Who, when th'rebellious French, their liberty to gain,  
From us our ancient right unjustly did detain  
(T'let Bullen understand our just conceived ire)  
Her Suburbs, and her Ships, sent up to heaven in fire;  
Estaples than took in that day she held her Fair,  
Whose Merchandise he let his soldiers freely share;  
And got us back Saint Marks, which loosely we had lost.  
Amongst these famous men, of us deserving most,  
In these of great'st report, we gloriously prefer,  
For that his naval fight, john Duke of Excester;  
The puissant Fleet of Ieane (which France to her did call)  
Who mercilessly sunk, and slew her Admiral.  
And one, for single fight, amongst our Martial men,  
Deserves remembrance here as worthily again;  
Our Clifford, that brave, young and most courageous Squire:  
Who thoroughly provoked, and in a great desire  
Unto the English name a high report to win,  
Slew Bockmell hand to hand at Castle jocelin,  
Supposed the noblest spirit that France could then produce.  
Now, forward to thy task proceed industrious Muse,  
To him, above them all, our Power that did advance;  
john Duke of Bedford, styled the firebrand to sad France:  
Who to remove the Foe from sieged Harflew, sent,  
Affrighted them like death; and as at Sea he went,  
The huge French Navy fired, when horrid Neptune roared,  
The whilst those mighty Ships out of their scuppers poured  
Their traitorous cluttred gore upon his wrinkled face.  
He took strong ●very in: and like his kingly race,  
There down before Vernoyle the English Standard stuck:  
And having on his Helmo his conquering Brothers luck,  
Alanzon on the field and doughty Douglasse laid,  
Which brought the Scottish power unto the Dauphin's aid;  
And with his fatal sword, gave France her fill of death,  
Till wearied with her wounds, she gasping lay for breath.  
Then, as if powerful Heaven our part did there abet,  
Still did one noble spirit, a nobler spirit beget.  
So, Salisbury arose; from whom, as from a source  
All valour seemed to flow, and to maintain her force.  
From whom not all their Forts could hold our treacherous Foes.  
Pontmelance he regained, which ours before did lose.  
Against the envious French, at Cravant, then came on;  
As sometime at the siege of high-reared Ilium,  
The Gods descending, mixed with mortals in the fight:  
And in his leading, showed such valour and such might,  
As though his hand had held a more than earthly power;  
took Stuart in the field, and General Vantadour,  
The French and Scottish force, that day which bravely led;  
Where few at all escaped, and yet the wounded fled.  
Mount Aguilon, and Mouns, great Salisbury surprised:  
§. What time (I think in hell) that instrument devised, 
Great Ordinance.   
The first appeared in France, as a prodigious birth  
To plague the wretched world, sent from the envious Earth;  
Whose very roaring seemed the mighty Round to shake,  
As though of all again it would a Chaos make.  
This famous General them got Gwerland to our use,  
And Malicorne made ours, with Loupland, and La Suise,  
Saint Bernard's Fort, S. Kales, S. Susan, Mayon, Lyle,  
The Hermitage, Mountseure, Baugency, and Yanvile.  
Then he (in all her shapes that dreadful War had seen,  
And that with Danger oft to conversant had been,  
As for her threats at last he seemed not once to care,  
And Fortune to her face adventurously durst dare)  
The Earl of Suffolk, Poole, the Marshal that great day  
At Agincourt, where France before us prostrate lay  
(Our Battles every where that Hector-like supplied,  
And marched o'er murdered piles of Frenchmen as they died)  
Invested Aubemerle, rich Cowey making ours,  
And at the Bishop's Park or'ethrew the Dolphin's powers.  
Through whose long time in war, his credit so increased,  
That he supplied the room of Salisbury deceased.  
In this our warlike rank, the two stout Astons then,  
Sir Richard, and Sir john, so truly valiant men,  
That Ages yet to come shall hardly overtop am,  
Vmfrevill, Peachy, Branch, Mountgomery, Felton, Popham.  
All men of great Command, and highly that deserved:  
Courageous Ramston next, so faithfully that served  
At Paris, and S. james de Beneon, where we gave  
The French those deadly foils, that Ages since deprave  
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 some secret spirit)  
Being chosen for these wars in our great Regent's place  
(A deadly Foe to France, like his brave Roman race)  
The Castilets of Loire, of Maiet, and of Land,  
Mountdublian, and the strong Pountorson beaten to ground.  
Then he, above them all, himself that sought to raise,  
Upon some Mountain top, like a Pyramids;  
Our Talbot, to the French so terrible in war,  
That with his very name their Babes they used to scar,  
Took-in the strong Lavall, all Main and overran,  
As the betrayed Mons he from the Marshal won,  
And from the treacherous Foe our valiant Suffolk freed.  
His sharp and dreadful sword made France so oft to bleed,  
Till fainting with her wounds, she on her wrack did fall;  
took joïng, where he hung her Traitors on the wall;  
And with as fair success wan Beumont upon Oyse,  
The new Town in Esmoy, and Crispin in Valois:  
Creile, with Saint Maxines bridge; and at Auranches aid,  
Before whose battered walls the Foe was strongly laid,  
Marched in, as of the siege at all he had not known;  
And happily relieved the hardly-gotten Rouen:  
Who at the very hint came with auspicious feet,  
Whereas the traitorous French he miserably beet.  
And having overspread all Picardy with war,  
Proud Burgaine to the Field he lastly sent to dare,  
Which with his English friends so oft his faith had broke:  
Whose Countries he made mourn in clouds of smouldering smoke;  
Then Gysors he again, then did Saint Device, 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 jaws;  
And oft would forward put, where Talbot stood to pause:  
Equality in fame, which with an equal lot,  
Both at Saint Device siege, and battered Guysors got.  
Before Pont-Orsons walls, who, when great Warwick lay  
(And he with soldiers sent a foraging for pray)  
Six thousand French or'ethrew with half their numbered powers,  
And absolutely made both Main and Anjou ours.  
To Willoughby the next, the place by turn doth fall;  
Whose courage likely was to bear it from them all:  
With admiration oft on whom they stood to look,  
Saint Valeries proud gates that off the hinges shook:  
In Burgundy that forced the recreant French to fly,  
And beaten the Rebels down disordering Normandy:  
That Amiens near laid waste (whose strengths her could not save)  
And the perfidious French out of the Country drove.  
With these, another troop of noble spirits there sprung.  
That with the foremost priest into the warlike throng.  
The first of whom we place that stout Sir Philip Hall,  
So famous in the fight against the Count S. Paul,  
That Crotoy us regained: and in the conflict twixt  
The English and the French, that with the Scot were mixed,  
On proud Charles Clerimont won that admirable day.  
Strong Fastolph with this man compare we justly may,  
By Salisbury who oft being seriously employed  
In many a brave attempt, the general Fo● annoyed;  
With excellent success in Main and Anio● fought:  
And many a Bulwark there into our keeping brought;  
And, chosen to go forth with Vadamont in war,  
Most resolutely took proud Renate, Duke of Bar.  
The valiant Draytons then, Sir Richard, and Sir john,  
By any English spirits yet hardly over-gone;  
The same they go in France, with costly wounds that bought:  
In Gascony and Guyne, who oft and stoutly fought.  
Then, valiant Matthew Gough: for whom the English were  
Much bound to noble Wales in all our Battles there,  
Or sieging or besieged that never failed our force,  
Oft hazarding his blood in many a desperate course.  
He beaten the Bastard Balm with his selected band,  
And at his Castle-gate surprised him hand to hand,  
And spite of all his power away him prisoner bare.  
Our hardy Burdet then with him we will compare,  
Besieged within Saint james de Bencon, issuing out,  
Crying Salisbury, S. George, with such a horrid shout,  
That cloven the wandering clouds; and with his valiant crew  
Upon the envied French like hungry Lions flew,  
And Arthur Earl of Ewer and Richmont took in fight:  
Then following them (in heat) the Army put to flight:  
The Britain, French, and Scot, received a general sack,  
As, flying, one fell still upon another's back;  
Where our six hundred slew so many thousands more.  
At our so good success that once a Frenchman swore  
That God was wholly turned unto the English side,  
And to assist the French, the devil had denied.  
Then here our Kerrill claims his room amongst the rest,  
Who justly if compared might march our very best.  
He in our wars in France with our great Talbot oft,  
With Willoughby and Scales, now down, and then aloft,  
Endured the sundry turns of often varying Fate;  
At Clerimont seized the Earl before his City gate,  
Eight hundred faithless French who took or put to sword;  
And, by his valour, twice to Artoyse us restored.  
In this our service then great Arondell doth ensue,  
The marshal Bousack who in Beuvoy● overthrew;  
And, in despite of France and all her power, did win  
The Castle's Darle, Nellay, S. Laurence, Bomelin;  
took Silly, and Count Lore at Sellerin subdued,  
Where with her owner's blood, her buildings he imbrued:  
Revolted Loveers sacked, and manfully suppressed  
Those Rebels, that so oft did Normandy molest.  
As Poynings, such high praise in Gelderland that got,  
On the Savoyan side, that with our English shot  
Struck warlike Aiske, and Straule, when Flanders shook with fear.  
As Howard, by whose hand we so renowned were:  
Whose great success at Sea, much famed our English Fleet:  
That in a naval fight the Scottish Barton beet;  
And setting foot in France, her horribly did fright:  
(As if great Chandos ghost, or feared Talbots sprite  
Had come to be their scourge, their fame again to earn)  
Who having stoutly sacked both Narbin and Deverne,  
The Castles of De Boys, of Fringes, took us there,  
Of Columburge, of rue, of Dorlans, and Daveere;  
In Scotland, and again the Murches' East to West,  
Did with invasive war most terribly infest.  
A nobler of that name, the Earl of Surry then,  
That famous Hëroe fit both for the Spear and Pen  
(From Floddens doubtful fight, that forward Scottish King  
In his victorious ●roupe who home with him did bring)  
Rebellious Ireland scourged, in Brittany and won  
Us Morles. Happy time, that bredst so brave a man!  
To Cobham, next, the place deservedly doth fall:  
In France who then employed with our great Admiral,  
In his successful Road blow Sellois up in fire,  
took B●ttingham and Bruce, with Samkerke and Mansier.  
Our Peachy, nor our Car, nor Thomas, shall be hid,  
That at the Field of Spurs by Tirwyn stoutly did.  
Sands, Guyldford, Palmer, Lyle, Fitzwilliams, and with them,  
Brave Dacres, Musgrave, Bray, Coe, Wharton, jerningham,  
Great Martialists, and men that were renowned far  
At Sea; some in the French, some in the Scottish war.  
Courageous Randolph then, that served with great Command,  
Before Newhaven first, and then in Ireland.  
The long-renowned Lord Gray, whose spirit we oft did try;  
A man that with dread Mars stood in account most high.  
Sir Thomas Morgan then, much fame to us that won,  
When in our Maiden reign the Belgic war began:  
Who with our friends the Dutch, for England stoutly stood,  
When Netherlands first learned to lavish gold and blood.  
Sir Roger Williams next (of both which, Wales might vaunt)  
His marshal compear then, and brave Commilitant:  
Whose conflicts, with the French▪ and Spanish manly fought,  
Much honour to their names, and to the Britaines brought.  
Th'Lord Willoughby may well be reccond with the rest,  
Inferior not a whit to any of our best;  
A man so made for war, as though from Pallas sprung.  
Sir Richard Bingham then our valiant men among,  
Himself in Belgia well, and Ireland, who did bear;  
Our only Schools of War this later time that were.  
As, 
Sir Edw. Stanley.  Stanley, whose brave act at zutphen's service done,  
Much glory to the day, and him his Knighthood won.  
Our noblest Norrice next, whose fame shall never die  
Whilst Belgia shall be known; or there's a Brittany:  
In whose brave height of spirit, Time seemed as to restore  
Those, who to th' English name such honour gained of yore.  
Great Essex, of our Peers the last that ere we knew;  
Th'old world's Heroës lives who likely'st did renew;  
The soldiers only hope, who stoutly served in France;  
And on the Towers of Cales as proudly did advance  
Our English Ensigns then, and made Iberia quake,  
When as our warlike Fleet road on the surging Lake,  
T'receiue that cities spoil, which set her battered gate  
Wide open, t'affrighted Spain to see her wretched state.  
Next, Charles, Lord Mountioy, sent to Ireland to suppress  
The envious Rebel there; by whose most fair success,  
The trowzed Irish led by their unjust Tyrone,  
And the proud Spanish force, were justly overthrown.  
That still Kinsall shall keep and faithful record bear,  
What by the English prowess was executed there.  
Then lived those valiant Veres, 
Sir Francis, and Sir Horace.  both men of great Command  
In our employments long: whose either marshal hand  
Reached at the highest wreath, it from the top to get,  
Which on the proudest head, Fame yet had ever set.  
Our 
p Sir Henry.  Dokwray, 
q Sir Edmond.  Morgan next, Sir Samuel Bagnall, then  
Stout 
r Sir Oliver.  Lambert, such as well deserve a living pen;  
True Martialists and Knights, of noble spirit and wit.  
The valiant Cicill, last, for great employment fit,  
Deservedly in war the latest of ours that rose:  
Whose honour every hour, and fame still greater grows.  
When now the Kentish Nymphs do interrupt her Song,  
By letting Medway know she tarried had too long  
Upon this warlike troop, and all upon them laid,  
Yet for their nobler Kent she naught or little said.  
When as the pliant Muse, strait turning her about,  
And coming to the Land as Medway goeth out,  
Saluting the dear soil, o famous Kent, quoth she,  
What Country hath this I'll that can compare with thee,  
Which hast within thyself as much as thou canst wish?  
Thy conies, Venison, Fruit; thy sorts of Fowl and Fish:  
As what with strength comports, thy Hay, thy Corn, thy Wood:  
Nor any thing doth want, that any where is good▪  
Where Thames-ward to the shore, which shoots upon the rise,  
Rich Tenham undertakes thy Closets to suffice  
With Cherries, which we say, the Summer in doth bring,  
Wherewith Pomona crowns the plump and lustful Spring;  
From whose deep ruddy cheek, sweet Zephyre kisses steals,  
With their delicious touch his lovesick heart that heals.  
Whose golden Gardens seem th' Hesperides to mock:  
Nor there the Damzon wants, nor dainty Abricock,  
Nor Pippin, which we hold of kernell-fruits the king,  
The Apple-Orendge; then the savoury Russetting:  
The Peare-maine, which to France long ere to us was known,  
Which careful Frut'rers now have denizend our own.  
The Renat: which though first it from the Pippin came,  
Grown through his pureness nice, assumes that curious name,  
Upon the Pippin stock, the Pippin being set;  
As on the Gentle, when the Gentle doth beget  
(Both by the Sire and Dame being anciently descended)  
The issue borne of them, his blood hath much amended.  
The Sweeting, for whose sake the Plowboys oft make war:  
The Wilding, Costard, than the welknown Pomwater,  
And sundry other fruits, of good, yet several taste,  
That have their sundry names is sundry Countries placed:  
Unto whose dear increase the Gardener spends his life,  
With Percer, Wimble, saw, his Mallet, and his Knife;  
Oft covereth, oft doth bare the dry and moistened root,  
As faintly they mislike, or as they kindly suit:  
And their selected plants doth workmanlike bestow,  
That in true order they conveniently may grow.  
And kills the slimy Snail, the Worm, and labouring Ant,  
Which many times annoy the graft and tender Plant:  
Or else maintains the plot much starved with the wet,  
Wherein his daintiest fruits in kernels he doth set:  
Or scrapeth off the moss, the Trees that oft annoy.  
But, with these trifling things why idly do I toy,  
Who any way the time intent not to prolong?  
To those Thamisian Isles now nimbly turns my Song,  
Fair Shepey and the Greane sufficiently supplied,  
To beautify the place where Medway shows her pride.  
But Greane seems most of all the Medway to adore,  
And Tenet, standing forth to the 
f near Sandwich.  Rhutopian shore,  
By mighty Albion placed till his return again  
From Gaul; where, after, he by Hercules was slain.  
For, Earthborn Albion then great Neptune's eldest son,  
Ambitious of the ●ame by stern Alcides won,  
Would over (needs) to Gaul, with him to hazard fight,  
Twelve Labours which before accomplished by his might;  
His Daughters then but young (on whom was all his care)  
Which Doris, Thetis Nymph, unto the Giant bare:  
With whom those Isles he left; and willed her for his sake,  
That in their Grandsire's Court she much of them would make:  
But Tenet, th'eld'st of three, when Albion was to go,  
Which loved her Father best, and loath to leave him so,  
There at the Giant reached; which was perceived by chance:  
This loving Isle would else have followed him to France;  
To make the channel wide that then he forced was,  
§. Whereas (some say) before he used on foot to pass.  
Thus Tenet being stayed, and surely settled there,  
Who nothing less than want and idleness could bear,  
Doth only give herself to tillage of the ground.  
With sundry sorts of Grain whilst thus she doth abound,  
She falls in love with Stour, which coming down by Wye,  
And towards the goodly I'll, 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 hardest to be controlled, impatientest of wrong.  
Who, when the Norman first with pride and horror swayed,  
Threw'st off the servile yoke upon the English laid;  
And with a high resolve, most bravely didst restore  
That liberty so long enjoyed by thee before.  
§. Not suffering foreign Laws should thy free Customs bind,  
Then only showd'st thyself of th'ancient Saxon kind.  
Of all the English Shires be thou surnamed the Free,  
§. And foremost ever placed, when they shall reckoned be.  
And let this Town, which Chief of thy rich Country is,  
Of all the British Sees be still Metropolis.  
Which having said, the Stour to Tenet him doth high,  
Her in his loving arms embracing by and by,  
Into the mouth of Tames one arm that forth doth lay,  
The other thrusting out into the Celtique Sea.  
§. Grim Goodwin all this while seems grievously to lower,  
Nor cares he of a straw for Tennet, nor her Stour;  
Still bearing in his mind a mortal hate to France  
Since mighty Albion's fall by wars incertain chance.  
Who, since his wished revenge not all this while is had,  
Twixt very grief and rage is fallen extremely mad;  
That when the rolling Tide doth stir him with her waves,  
Strait foaming at the mouth, impatiently he raves,  
And strives to swallow up the Sea-marks in his Deep,  
That warn the wandering ships out of his laws to keep.  
The Surgeons of the Sea do all their skill apply,  
If possibly, to cure his grievous malady:  
As Amphitrites Nymphs their very utmost prove,  
By all the means they could, his madness to remove.  
From Greenwich to these Sands, some Scurvigrasse do bring,  

Simples frequent in these places.  That inwardly applied 's a wondrous sovereign thing.  
From Shepey, Sea-mosse some, to cool his boiling blood;  
Some, his ill-seasond mouth that wisely understood,  
Rob Dovers neighbouring Cleeves of Sampyre, to excite  
His dull and sickly taste, and stir up appetite.  
Now, Shepey, when she found she could no further wade  
After her mighty Sire, betakes her to his trade,  
With Sheephook in her hand, her goodly flocks to heed,  
And cherisheth the kind of those choice Kentish breed.  
Of Villages she holds as husbandly a port,  
As any British I'll that neighboreth Neptune's Court,  
But Greane, as much as she her Father that did love  
(And, than the Inner Land, no further could remove)  
In such continual grief for Albion doth abide,  
That almost under-flood she weary every Tide.  

Illustrations.  
Out of Sussex, into its Eastern neighbour, Kent, this Canto leads you. It begins with Rother, whose running through the woods, inisling Oxney, and such like, poetically here described is plain enough to any apprehending conceit; and upon Medway's Song of our martial and Heroic spirits, because a large volume might be written to explain their glory in particular action, and in less comprehension without wrong to many worthies its not performable, I have omitted all Illustration of that kind, and left you to the Muse herself.  
That Limen then was named—  
So the Author conjectures; that rother's mouth was the place called Limen, at which the Danes in time of K. Alfred made irruption; which he must (I think) maintain by adding likelihood that Rother then fell into the Ocean about Heath; where (as the relics of the name in Lime, and the distance from Canterbury in Antoninus making 
* Lemannis in Nout. Vtr. Provinc.  Portus Lemanis▪ which is misprinted in Surita's Edition, Pontem Lemanis. XVI. Miles off) it seems Limen was; and if Rother were Limen, then also, there was it discharged out of the Land. But for the Author's words read this; 
* The Danes with 250. sail, came into the mouth of the River Limen, which runs out of Andredswald: from whence IV. miles into the wood they got in their ships, and built them a Fort at Apledore DCCC.XCIII  Equestris Paganorum exercitus cum suis equis CCL. na●ibus Cantiam transu●ctus in Ostio Amnis Limen qui de sylua magna Andred nominata decurrit, applicuit, à cuius ostro four milliarys in candem syluam naves suas sursum traxit, ubi quandam arcem semistructans, quam panci inhabitabant villani, diruerunt, altamque, sibi firmiorem in loco qui dicitur Apultrea construxerunt, which are the syllables of Florence of Worcester; and with him in substance fully agrees Matthew of Westminster: nor can I think but that they imagined Rye (where now Rother hath its mouth) to be this Port of Limen, as the Muse here; if you respect her direct terms. Henry of Huntingdon names no River at all, but lands them 
* At Port Limen by Andredswald in the East of Kent.  ad Portum Limene cum 250. navibus qui portus est in Orientali part Cent juxta magnum nemus Andredslaige. How Rothers mouth can be properly said in the East (but rather in the South part) of Kent, I conceive not, and am of the adverse part, thinking clearly that Heath must be Portus Lemanis, which is that coast, as also learned Camden teaches, whose authority cited out of Huntingdon, being near the same time with Florence might be perhaps thought but as of equal credit; therefore I call another witness (that 
a Ethelwerd. lib. 4. cap. 4.  lived not much past L. years after the arrival) in these words, 
* They leave their Ships in Port- Limen, making their Rendezvous at Appledoure in the East of Kent (for this may better endure that name) and there destroyed one Castle and built another.  In Limneo portu constituunt puppes, Apoldre (so I read for the Print is corrupted) loco condicto Orientali Cantia part, destruú●●que, ibi prisco opera castrum propter quod rustica manus exigma quip intrinsecus erat, Illícque hiberna castra confirmant. Out of which you note both that no River, but a Port only, is spoken of, and that the Ships were left in the shore at the Haven, and thence the Danes conveyed their companies to Apledowre. The words of this Ethelwerd I respect much more than these later Stories, and I would advise my Reader to incline so with me.  
What time I think in hell that instrument devised.  
He means a Gun; wherewith that most Noble and right martial Thomas Montagne Earl of Salisbury at the siege of Orleans in time of Hen. VI. was slain. The first inventor of them (I guess you dislike not the addition) was one 
b v. Polyd. de Invent. rer. 2 cap 2. & Sa. muth. ad G. Pan●●roll. 2. tit. 18.  Berthold Swartz (others say Constantine Anklitzen a Dutch Monk and Chemist, who having in a Mortar, sulphurous powder for Medicine, covered with a stone, a spark of fire by chance falling into it, fired it, and the flame removed the stone; which he observing, made use afterward of the like in little pipes of Iron, and showed the use to the Venetians in their war with the Genoese at Chi●gg●● about M.CCC.LXXX. Thus is the common assertion: but I see as good 
c Achilles Gassar. ap. Munst. Cosmog 3.  authority, that it was used above XX. years before in the Danish Seas. I will not dispute the conveniency of it in the world, compare it with Salm●neus imitation of Thunder, Archimedes his Engines, and such like; nor tell you that the Chinois had it, and Printing, so many ages before us, as Mendoza, Muffy, and others deliver; but not with persuading credit to all their Readers.  
Whereas some say before he used on foot to pass.  
The allusion is to Britain's being heretofore joined to Gaul in this strait twixt Dover and Calais (some XXX. miles over) as some Moderns have conjectured. That learned Antiquary I. Twine is very confident in it, and derives the Name for Birth signifying (as he says) as much as Guith. i. a separation in Welsh, whence the 
d Sam. Beulan. ad. Nennium.  Isle of Wight was so called; Guith and Wight being soon 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 proposed divers considerations, in which, experience of particulars must direct. Howsoever this was in truth, it is as likely, for aught I see, as that Cyprus was Once joined to Syria, Euboea (now Negroponte) to Boe●tia, Atalante to Euboea, B●l●icum to Bythinia, Leucosia to Thrace, as is 
e Plin. Hist. Nat. 2. cap. 88  affirmed: and Sicily (whose like our Island is) was certainly broken off from the continent of Italy, as both Virgil expressly, Strabo and Pliny delivers; and also the names of Rhegium, 
f From breaking off. Trogus. hist. 4. & Strab. ●.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, and of the self Sicily; which, rather then from 
g To cut off.  Secare, I derive from 
h Varr. de Re Rusty. 1. cap. 49.  Sicili●e, which is of the same signification and nearer in Analogy: Claudian calls the Isle 
— 
* Britain pulled from the w●rld.  Diducta Britannia Mund●.  and Virgil hath 
— 
* Brita●ne divided from the whole world.  Toto divisos Orb Britannes;  Where Servius is of opinion, that, for this purpose, the learned Poet used that phrase. And it deserves inquisition, how beasts of Rapine, as Foxes and such like came first into this Island (for England and Wales, as now Scotland and Ireland, had store of Wolves, until some CCC. years since) if it were not joined to a firm land, that either by like conjunction, or narrow passage of swimming might receive them from that Continent where the Ark rested, which is Armenia. That, men desired to transport them, is not likely: and a learned 
i Orbis●. cap. 20. & 21.  jesuit hath conjectured, that the West Indies are therefore, or have been, joined with firm land, because they have Lions, Wolves, 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 suffering foreign laws should thy free customs bind.  
To explain it, I thus English you a fragment of an old 
k Th● Spot●● ap. Lamb in Explit Verb.  Monk: When the Norman Conqueror had the day, he came to Dover Castle, that he might with the same subdue Kent also; wherefore, Stigand Archbishop, and Egelsin Abbot, at the chief of that Shire; observing that now whereas heretofore no villains (the Latin is Nullus fuerat servus, & applying it to Our Law phrase, I translate it) had been in England, they should be now all in bondage to the Normans, they assembled all the County and showed the imminent dangers, the insolence of the Normans, and the hard condition of Villeinage: They, resolving all rather to die then loose their freedom, purpose to encounter with the Duke for their Country's liberties. Their Captains are the Archbishop and the Abbot. Upon an appointed day they meet all at Swanescomb, and harbouring themselves in the woods, with Boughs in every man's hand, they encompass his way. The next day, the Duke coming by Swanescomb, seemed to see with amazement, as it were a wood approaching towards him, the Kentish men at the sound of a Trumpet take themselves to Arms, 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 receive you as their Liege Lord, upon that condition, that they may for ever enjoy their ancient Liberties and Laws used among their ancestors; otherwise, presently offering war; being ready rather to die, then undergo a yoke of Bondage, and lose their ancient Laws. The Norman in this narrow Pinch, not so willingly, as wisely granted the desire: and hostages given on both sides, the Kentish men direct the Normans to Rochester, and deliver them the County and the Castle of Dover. Hither is commonly referred the retaining of ancient liberties in Kent. Indeed it is certain that special customs they have in their Gavelkind (although now many of their gentlemen's Possessions 
l Stat. 31. Hen. 8. cap. 3.  are altered in that part) suffering for Felony, without forfeiture of estate, and such like, as in particular, with many other deligent traditions you have in Lambards' Perambulation: yet the report of Thomas Spot, is not, me thinks, of clear credit, as well by reason that no warrant of the Historians about the Conquest affirms it (and this Monk lived under Ed. I.) as also for his commixture of a fauxete about Villeinage, saying it was not in England before that time, which is apparently false by divers testimonies. 
m If a Villain work on Sunday by his Lords command, he shall be free.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 (says King Ines laws) 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 on Sunnan 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 he 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 &, under Edward the Confessor 
n Colgrin my Bailiff and his issue, with all goods and chattels, etc. , Thorold of Beuchenale grants to the Abbey of Crowland his Manor of Spalding, with all the Appurtenances, Scilicet 
o Itin. Cornub. 30. Ed. 1. Uillenage 46. & Mich. 5. Ed. 2. Ms. in Bibliothec. Int. Templ cas. john de Garton.  Colgrinum praepositum meum, & totam sequelam suam, cum omnibus bonis & catallis, quae babet in dicta Villa, etc. Item Hardingum Fabrum & totam sequelam suam; and the young wench of Andeuer, that Edgar was in love with, was a Nief. But for Kent, perhaps it might be true, that no villains were in it, seeing since that time it hath been adjudged in our Law, that One Borne there could not without Conisans of Record be a Villain.  
And foremost ever placed when they shall reckoned be.  
For this honour of the Kentish, hear one 
s joann. Sarisbur. De Nugis Curial. 6. cap. 18.  that wrote it about Hen. II. 
* What performance K Cnut did among the Danes, and Norwegans by English valour, is apparent in that until this day, the Kentish men for their singular virtue then shown, have prerogative always to be in the Vanguard; as Writshire, Devonshire, and Cornwall in the Rear.  Enudus (as some Copics are, but others, Cinidus; and perhaps it should so be, or rather Cnudus, for K. Cnut; or else I cannot conjecture what) quantâ virtute Anglorum, Dacos Danósque fregerit motúsque, compescuerit Noricorum, vel ex eo perspicuum est, quo. job egreg●ae virtutis meritum quam ibidem potentèr & patentèr exercuit, Cantia Nostra, primae Cohortis honorem & primus Congressus Hostium usque in Hodiernum diem en omnibus praelijs obtinet. Provincia quóque Severiana, quae moderno usu & nomine ab incolis Wiltesira vocatur, cadem iure sibi vendicat Cohortem subsidiariam, adiectâ sibi Devomâ & Cornubiâ. Briefly, it had the first English King, in it was the first Christianity among the English, and Canterbury then honoured with the Metropolitique See: all which give note of Honourable Prerogative.  
Grim Godwin but the while seems grievously to lower.  
That is Godwin-sand●, which is reported to have been the Patrinomy 
t Hect. Both. Hist. Scotic. 12. & 10. Twin Albionic. 1.  of that Godwin Earl of Kent, under Edward the Confessor, swallowed into the Ocean by strange Tempest somewhat after the Conquest, and is now as a floating Isle or Quicksand, very dangerous to Sailors, sometime as fixed, sometime moving, as the Muse describes.   
FINIS.