html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }f Brittish Kings, and Hero's, Sung by Fame,
None Lives so Great, as Mighty Arthur's Name;
Whose Noble Deeds, to Wonder did Compleat
All Virtues, which in Best of Princes meet,
Though Sage Historians, Griev'd they cannot know,
How much this Isle, does to his Virtues owe;
But small Remaines of his Past Acts Relate,
Charging the rest, on Guilty Time and Fate:
Or else to Fame, whose Rolls his Glories fill,
Have left his Praise, above their search, and skill.
Victorious Rome, that Brittain had Compell'd,
To own Her Rule, from Him fear'd what she held;
Proving his Armes, her Greatness Ballanc'd more,
Than all the World, she had oppos'd before.
Many the Battels were, Fame tells, he Fought
Unequal Number'd, yet his Foes still sought;
Till Fate his Life unto Death's Pow'r betrayes,
And Brittaines Mourn, the wonder of their Dayes.
To all the Glories, of so great a Name
He left a Son, Heir to his Worth and Fame;
A Happiness, not in all Monarchs known,
Who worthless, oft succeed, a Virt'ous Throne;
And like the Vulgar Issue of Mankind,
Beget their Mighty Race, unlike in Mind.
Whence such vast Structures, they for Empire lay
In their less Glor'ous Successors decay.
And as it were too much for Mortal State,
Seldome are seen 'like Prosperous, and Great.
While here for Brittain's Glory, Heaven does give,
A Son, in whom his Fathers Virtues Live;
Fam'd Albianus, in whose Mighty Soul,
Met all the Glories of Great Arthur's Rule.
In War Approv'd, and in his Councels Wise,
Steps by which Princes, best to Thrones do Rise.
Who o'r the West of Brittains Fertile soile,
His Fathers Sword Preserv'd, and his brave Toyle;
Did then extend his Empire, while the rest,
By other Famous Princes was Possest.
With him three Monarchs, fertile Brittain own'd,
The East of which, had fair Bonduca Crown'd;
While Royal Vortigers, the North does Bound,
Where Scots Repining, till their fruitless Ground.
From Mighty Britttish Kings, Time long Deriv'd
Their High Descents, who best Examples Liv'd
Of Royal Greatness, nor did thirst of Power,
Which in Ambitious Princes men deplore,
Their Scepters happy Concord Dis-unite,
Who held it Impious, to Invade a Right;
Espousing here one mutual Peace, or War,
Which must their Councels, and their Conducts share.
Oh happy Rule, where Monarchs thus maintain
Their Peoples Rights, and like just Neighbors Reign!
Whose Power to Subjects, from their Laws was known
Like Heavens Prerogative, from order shown;
That in their several Sphæres they seem'd to move,
With Harmony, resembling those Above.
With these Bonduca Reign'd, whose Matchless Story,
Fame must for ever speak, with highest Glory;
Perfect in Virtue, with best Prudence Joyn'd,
That, from her Soul, her State, did Greatness find;
Nor did her Beauties, less Perfection show,
That Nature summ'd in her, what she could do.
Whose Graces, through the World scarce fame had spread,
But greatest Princes, did their Courtships speed;
Ambitious of Alliance with her Crown,
Or in her Beauties to Espouse a Throne.
Whose Bright Attractions, with her Virtues joyn'd,
To highest wonder, ev'n her Foes inclin'd.
Wishing above all Conquest, they might gain
Her Loves Dominion, as their noblest Reign,
While for her State, she takes assiduous care,
How to prevent, the sad effects of War:
Which, but too lately, this Rich Isle did waste,
And, to the Princes, does wise Counsels haste.
Now, Albianus Court, the Scene must be,
For this so high Concern of Brittany:
With whom the Sages of each Crown did meet,
This deep Affair, most Prudently to Treat.
Where Vortiger, with Royal Glory came,
A Prince, so early made, the Pride of Fame;
That Natures Master-piece, in him alone
Had been Compleated, if to Fame unknown
Were Albianus Praise, which gives her Story
From both these wonder, and yet equal Glory.
Their Persons like two Plants, the early Spring
With best Perfection, did to Ripeness bring;
Comely, as Youth, and Beauty met could show,
And no less Great, in Princely Virtues too.
The outward Complements Perform'd of State,
They deep Intregues, of Wars Rough Power Debate;
The High Concern of Crownes, whence Kings receive
Their Noblest safety; nor can Monarchs live
Mighty in Name, whom Mars does not Renown,
And Subjects from their Armes, Protection own;
Who soon will Judge, they Scepters weakly sway,
Except their Martial Power, their Foes obey.
Which Glorious End these Princes did Pursue,
Joyning the greatness of their Councels now.
While thus to Vortiger, Albianus speaks,
(Plac'd in due State) Oh dearest Prince, what makes
Foes thus Conspire, or can Heaven think it good
War longer should consume, our Countryes blood?
What do'st Import, Great Battels to have wonn
Gainst Scots, alass, who Fight us for the Sun?
Inforc'd by Nature, and their Colder soile,
To Sacrifice themselves to Wars fierce Toil.
Or, that more Lustful Power of Rome, we see
Wasted, though long our Fatal Enemy?
While its Bold Consul Ennius, now yields
T'Encamp in utmost Kent, and Quit close Fields;
If like a Tiger forc'd unto a Den
With Rage Recruited, he dares Prey agen.
What else does meane, that Num'rous Warlike Power
From Gaules now Landing, on our Kentish shore?
How will Bonduca's Soul, these Tydings hear,
If her Rich Province Kent, they seize by War?
And, her most Glorious City, London, be
The next Attempt, of their bold Tyranny?
Can Martianus with our Armes oppose
The Romans, joyn'd with our fierce Gallick Foes?
Who like an Island, plac'd in th' Oceans way,
May break strong Billowes, but not stop a Sea.
To which great Vortiger does thus Reply,
Wee'l soon Martianus, with our Ayds supply,
And make it more our Glory, still to Fight,
Romes Power, Assisted with a Borrow'd might.
Five dreadful Ages, Brittains Armes have stood
Its Bold Attempts, with dear expence of Blood.
Since Mighty Julius first her Eagles led,
Though here but hover'd, when the World they spread
As that great Soul of Honor, Blush'd to see
His Armes did it subdue, e'r Brittany:
And more its Mistress, Proud Rome Conquer'd too,
Made next his Slave, that first the World made so;
Dares then despised Ennius hope to Live,
And this Isle Lawes, from Roman Conquest Give?
Or with his Armes, here Glory to Maintain,
The smallest Relicks, Cæsars Sword did gain?
What though Alvatrix, with his Gaules dos joyn
T' Assist their Eagles, our Prov'd Armes decline?
Effeminate Creatures, form'd by Clothes, and Words,
But soon will Fly, the Language of our Swords.
Or does Alvatrix, hope thus to Improve
His late Addresses, for Bonduca's Love?
Or thinks, her Virtues e'r can shaken be,
Though Rome to him, should Pander Victory?
But we delay our Active Armes too long,
Time calls, our warlike troops in Camps should throng;
With our Arm'd Chariots, that will Mow their way,
Through boldest Legions, Rome dares here Array.
Thus Vortiger, with great and sprightly Grace,
With this brave Prince, does Wars design embrace.
So fierce Achilles, added to the Flame
Of Greeks Incens'd, when to their Camp he came.
Nor did the Virtues, in these Princes met,
Which Nature did with highest care compleat,
More her Delight, than her vast Treasure show,
Who does on Mankind Graces so bestow,
That her Perfections still must different be,
Best pleas'd to Glory in variety.
In Vortiger, her Compositions were
Adorn'd with Graces, and a Soul of War;
In on-sets fierce, as Courage can express,
Quickn'd by Virtue, and its own Excess;
But Albianus, youthful heates less sway,
Whose sage Resolves, still guide brave Honors way:
Though in their Execution, Lightnings fly
Too slow, to keep his fierce Darts company.
While he with Warlike Vortiger Revolves
The Martial Conduct, of their high Resolves,
Fates swift Decree, which does even time surprise,
And oft prevents the Councels of the wise;
Unlook'd for Tidings, to these Princes speeds,
Nor shall Favonius, thy great Name and Deeds
Be less Renown'd, though to the pride of fate,
Thou didst Inglorious Deeds, of it relate.
Who does so variously Decrees dispence,
That Fortune seemes, the sport of Providence;
Swift had he Run, through Plains, and Pathless woods,
And almost breathless, swam Thames silver floods,
To scape pursuers, Like the Hart that tries
Most uncouth Tracts, when from the Chace he flies;
Thus he arrives, unto these Heroes sight,
His Vesture pierc'd with Piles as oft in fight,
He did such glorious markes, Receive from foes,
Nor did his flight his safety less expose,
Passing through showers of Piles, Romes Legion threw,
Whom, as these Princes did with wonder view,
Unto their anxious thoughts, a Respite take,
Before their Souls could give them leave to speak,
Too sadly Judging, that he now did come,
T' express some fatal Loss, by Powers of Rome.
To whom Favonius, panting did express,
Great is the Cause, Fam'd Princes, my access,
Does now surprise you; nor can fate decree
A peril, I'l not joy my Destiny,
If in Bouduca's cause, my death it give,
Though fame now tell, I flying her Foes live:
Heav'n witness, and you Stars, who late did see
Romes stoutest Eagles, by my Conduct flye,
Thrice, e'r the Sun did his Meridian gain,
But, I speak Conquest past; Alass! in vain,
Since great Bonduca's high Concern and aid,
Requir'd this dang'rous flight, I now have made,
Of whom I Crav'd, that mighty trust to bear
Unto you Princes, which your Warlike Care
Must soon imploy: But, happy had I fell
By Gaules and Romans, e'r these Tydings tell;
Or from my Lips, an Accent witness be,
Of this most famous Queens Calamity;
Whose Armes, though Warlike, Martianus led,
(Then whom no Brittish Chief gave Rome more dread)
In vain their Legions fought, R'enforc'd from Gaul,
Who, soon alass her Person may enthral:
Witness this day, when with its early dawn,
I saw our num'rous Foes 'bout London drawn,
Who did, like thickest Woods, at distance show,
While gentle Thames, in fear, did seem to flow;
His Stream beset, and every Pass possest,
Which, Londons danger, sadly have increast:
O! think brave Princes, what must be the Fate
Of this Black Day; or, What may Night compleat,
Approaching now? If, in her dismal houres
Our Foes assault this City, with their Powers;
And thus its Queen, and Glories, should possess,
To grace Rome's Triumph, and Gaules hop'd success;
Whil'st but to Heaven, and to your Warlike Power,
Onely remaines their safeties to Restore.
Thus he Relates; But, Who can judge the fire
That did these Hero's noble hearts inspire,
To aid this beaut'ous Queen? whose Person they
Fear, with her Kingdom, may become a Prey:
And, to Favonius, make this brave Reply,
'Tis time to Fight, if Martianus fly;
And thou, so great a Cheife, inforc'd to come,
Thus to relate success of Gaul, and Rome:
But, while the name of Brittain shall endure
With its choice Deeds, Fame shall thy worth secure:
Since, for Bonduca's cause, thou yield'st to live,
That we her Armes distress'd, relief might give;
Then Albianus does on him bestow
A stately Vest, and Richest Armour too:
While Vortiger presents him with a Steed,
Swift as the Wind, stout as the North did breed;
Next Arthur's Son, does his choice Captains call,
Corinus, Torringer, Androgeus, all
Fam'd in his Syres great Camp, for Wonders done,
And glory, now to serve his Warlike Son:
But Vortiger, who thought each minute slow,
Time now does wing until he fights this Foe;
Commands his Warlike Cheifs, a March to speed
Of his brave Powers; Whom, most approv'd, did Lead,
Clarinus, Troylus, with Darander, prais'd
For Deeds in War, Fame with Renown had blaz'd;
These soon Campaign a Num'rous Warlike Power
Of Troops, and Chariots, guided by the Flower
Of Brittish-Nobles, in which glorious Sphear,
The Princes, like Auspicious Stars, appear:
And now their Armies March, shrill Trumpets sound,
That Ecchoe, o'r th' Horizons utmost bound;
Which being done, they lead their Martial way,
And view great London the succeeding day.
The End of the First Canto.