“And vnto thee my yongest sonne, that art Mine _Albanact_, I giue to thee likewise As much to bee for thee and thine apart, As North beyonde the arme of sea there lyes, Of which loe heere a Mappe before your eyes. Loe heere my sonnes my kingdome all you haue, For which (remember) nought but this I craue:[211] 69. “First, that you take these fathers graue for mee, Imbrace their counsaile euen as it were mine: Next, that betweene your selues you will agree, And neuer one at others wealth repine, See that yee bide still bounde with friendly line: And last, my subiects with such loue retaine, As long they may your subiects eke remayne. 70. “Now faint,[212] I feele my breath begins to fayle, My time is come, giue eche to mee your hand: Farewell, farewell, to mourne will not preuayle, I see with Knife where _Atropos_ doth stand: Farewell my friendes, my children and my land, And farewell all my subiectes, farewell breath, Farewell ten thowsand times, and welcome death.” 71. And euen with that hee turnde himselfe asyde, Vpyeelding, gasping gaue[213] away the ghost: Then all with mourning voyce his seruantes cry’d,[214] And all his subiectes eke, from least to most, Lamenting fil’d with wayling plaintes[215] ech coast, Perdy[216] the Britans, all as nature bent,[217] Did for their King full dolefully lament. 72. But what auayles, to striue against the tide, Or else to driue[218] against the streame and winde? What booteth it against the Cliues to ride, Or else to worke against the course of kinde? Sith Nature hath the ende of thinges assin’d, There is no nay, wee must perforce depart, Gainst dinte of death there is no ease by arte.[219] 73. Thus raign’d that worthy King, that founde this land, My father _Brutus_, of the Troian bloud, And thus hee died when hee full well had man’d This noble Realme with Britans fearce and good. And so a while in stable state it stood, Till wee deuided had this Realme in three, And I to soone receiu’d my part to mee. 74. Then straight through all the world gan Fame to fly, A monster swifter none is vnder Sunne: Encreasing as in waters wee descry The circles small, of nothing that begunne, Which at the length vnto such breadth doe come, That of a drop, which from the skies doth fall, The circles spread, and hyde the waters all: 75.