Great Britain -- History -- Poetry; Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616 -- Sources
I being set at _Bacchus_ banquetting,
His daughter deckt with nature’s tapistrie,
And trimly trickte with euery other thing,
Which might delight a louer’s fantasie:
Why shoulde man’s mynde to loue thus subiect be?
I had a wyfe, a passing princely peece,
Which farre did passe that gallant gyrle of _Greece_.[1194]
26.
Yet from my wyfe (the woorthiest wench[1195] aliue,)
My fancies fell, I lothde her louely bed:
Howe I _Hengestus_ daughter might atchieue
Was al my care, I did this damsel wed,
My wife diuorste, I had her in the steede:
Her louely lookes, her pretie pleasant cheare,
Made me esteeme her onely loue most deare.
27.
I wore the crowne, her wyl dyd rule the rest,
And her demaunde I neuer did deny,
What she alow’d I did esteeme that best:
Which when her father _Hengest_ did espye,
He had the pray for which he long did prye:
He made his hay whilst weather fayer was,
And by her meanes he brought it thus to passe:
28.
That _Bryttaynes_ we with toyle shoulde till the ground,
The _Saxons_ woulde defende our wealth with warre:
Which graunted once, they did inhabite rownde
About my realme, and might both make and marre:
New _Saxons_ in my realme aryued were,
By meanes whereof my _Brittaynes_ did suspect
The _Saxons’_ slayghts, and did their deedes detect.
29.
Then they good men to me their king complain’d,
These men, quoth they, from vs our realme wil winne,
Except they from our frontiers be refrain’d:
Which when they told, my wife she was within,
“O husband deare, they be,” saide she, “my kin,
Cease of thy force thy faithful dreads to feare,
They meane no hurt, by _Ioue_ the iust, I sweare.”
30.
So I esteemed not my subiectes health,
That I might still my ladie’s loue enioye,
They vewde me carelesse of my common wealth,
To saue themselues they ment me to annoy,
Myne eldest sonne a proper prety boy,
They made their kyng, and me for my desert,
They did depriue: with paine which pincht my heart.
31.
Then _Vortiger_ my sonne and kyng pursude
The _Saxons_ sore, and dyd amaze them much,
For which my wyfe, his mother[1196] lawe, indude
With diuelish spite, agaynst the youth did grutche,
She him destroyde, her good successe was such:
When he seuen yeares had raygnde with great renowne,
With poyson she depriude him of his crowne.
32.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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