I was but made the captayne of the coast, From forrayne force to keepe my realme in rest, _Seuerus_, he was crowned king in post, Which did so boyle within my warrelike brest, That I with griefe most strangely was distrest. Shal hee (sayde I) thus reape the high renowne Which I deserue? Shal he inioy the crowne? 17. I wonne the wreath, and he wil weare the same: I got the goale, and he will get the gayne. For me in faith it were a deadly shame, If I in this his regall royall raygne, Without repulse should suffer him remaine: Which if I do, then let the dreadfull darte Of _Vulcan’s_ wrath, torment in twayne my hart. 18. For why, I see what seruile seruitude Shall then insue, if he may raigne in rest: Shall _Bryttayn_ braue by _Romanes_ be subdude? It shal no doubt, by _Romans_ be distrest, Except my might against his might be prest, My might as yet cannot his strength constraine, Yet may my might compell him to complaine. 19. The drainyng droppes doo make the marble yeeld In time: the seas the cragged rockes do rende: And courtly kinges by tearing time be kilde, For time dooth make the mightie okes to bende, And time dooth make the litle twigges ascende: So I in time, such power may prepare, As shal constraine _Seuerus_ death, with care. 20. But whylst I did indeuour to destroy _Seuerus’_ strength, the _Pictes_ were prickte with pride, For theyr reuenge vs _Britaynes_ to annoy: Which when I hard, in post I did prouide A power great, then I in hast did ride, And kept the coast so strong with men of warre, That no man coulde ariue, to make or marre. 21. The poore _Pictes_ preuented of their pray,[1174] In waltering waues did bouse their bitter bayne, They digde a diche, and caught theyr owne decay, On rockes theyr barkes, in seas themselues were slaine: The westerne windes with wo did them constrayne, By _Britayne_ bankes to make so long delaye, I, and the seas, brought them to their decay. 22. By meanes whereof my credite did increase: _Seuerus_ did esteeme me as his stay, I from my fyrst deuises coulde not cease, For aye I hopte to haue a happy day, To bring the _Roman_ rule to their decay, With fauning face good fortune smyled so, I had my wyshe what might I hope for mo? 23.