If so a man might stay on Fortune’s holde, Or else on Prince, as piller of defence, Then might my selfe t’haue done[761] the same bee bolde, In euery perill, purpose, or pretence: _Cassibellane_ as much as any Prince, Lou’d mee his cosin[762] _Irenglas_ by name, Both for my feats in armes, and fauour, fame,[763] [And for because I of his linage came.] 12. I came (by parents) of his regall race, Liude happy dayes (if happy mortall bee) Had (as I sayd) his fauour, bare the grace, I was his loyall seruant[764] franke and free, But what of this at all preuayled mee? Yet furthermore the feates of armes I knew, I fought in field, when mighty _Cæsar_ flewe, [And of the _Romaynes_ came my part I slewe.] 13. Shall I for this prayse Fortune ought at all? Did Fortune ought in this? no whit bee sure:[765] Or shall I blame her after for my fall, That neuer could mee any hurte procure? T’was glory vayne did sweetely mee allure, Wherefore giue care, and then with pen disclose [A tale which (though but rudely I dispose) Who reades and heares it both, may pleasure those.[766]] 14. Full happy were our Countrey men that dy’d, And[767] noble _Nennius_, in the field wee[768] fought: When first both _Britaynes_, and the _Romaynes_ tryd With dint of sword, if titles theyrs were ought: They dyed in theyr defence, no pompe they sought, They liu’d to see their Countrey conquere still, They dy’d before they felt of priuate ill, [And bare eache other all their liues, good will.] 15. When _Cæsar_ so with shamefull flight recoyl’d, And left our _Britayne_ land vnconquer’d first, Which only thought our Realme and vs t’haue spoyl’d, Wee came to see (of all our field the worst) Our souldiers slayne. O cruell _Cæsar_ curst (Quoth wee) should all these giltlesse _Britaynes_ die[769] [For thine ambition? fie, O _Cæsar_, fie,] That durst not[770] byde but like a dastard flie. 16. But then to see them in aray to lie, And for to see them wounded all before, Not one but in his place his life did trye, To see the _Romaynes_ bloudy backes that bore In field, flight, dead, and scattered[771] on the shore, What thousand tongues (thinke you) could tell our ioy[772] This made our hartes reuiue, this pleas’d our _Roy_,[773] [And wee lesse fearde our enemies all annoy.] 17.