Mirror for Magistrates, Volume 1

Great Britain -- History -- Poetry; Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616 -- Sources

I am that _Humber_ king of _Hunnes_, that came
        To win this Ilande from the _Britaynes_ fell:
        Was drownde in _Humber_, where I left my name:
        A iust reward for him that liu’d so well
        At home, and yet thought others to expell
          Both from theyr realme or right: well seru’d was I,
          That by ambition thought to clime so hye.[234]

    3.

        But I must blame report, the chiefest cause
        Of my decaye: beware of rashe report:
        Tis wisdome first to take a whyle a pause,
        Before to dint of daungers you resort:
        Least when you come in haste to scale the fort,
          By rashe assault some engine shaft or fire
          Dispatche you quite, or make you soone retire.

    4.

        For vnto mee the rumours dayely flewe,
        That here a noble Ilande might be wonne:
        The king was dead: no warres the people knewe,
        And eke themselues to stryue at home begon.
        It were (quoth I) a noble acte well don
          To win it then: and therewithall did make
          Prouision good, this famous Ile to take.

    5.

        A warlike regall campe prouided was,
        And shippes, and vittayle, for my _Hunnes_ and mee,
        By sea to _Britayne_ conquest for to passe,
        If Gods thereto or heauenly starres agree.
        At length wee came to shores of _Albany_,
          And there to fight with _Britaynes_ pitch’d our fielde,
          In hope to make them flinche, flye, fall, or yeelde.

    6.

        They met vs, long wee fearcely fought it out,
        And doubtfull was the victours part of twaine:
        Till with my _Hunnes_ I rusht among the route,
        And fought till that King _Albanact_ was slayne.
        Then they to yeelde or pardon craue were fayne,
          And I with triumphes great receau’d the pray,
          And marched forward, flesht with such a fraye.

    7.

        I past an arme of sea, that would to God
        I neuer had bin halfe so bold at fyrst,
        I made, to beate myselfe withall, a rod,
        When so without[235] theyr realme I venture durst,
        But marke my tale, thou heard’st not yet the worst:
          As sure I thought the rest to circumuent
          By spyes before, they knewe my whole intent.

    8.

        And or I wyst, when I was come to lande,
        Not farre from shore two Princes were preparde,
        Theyr scouts conueyed away my ships they fande,
        And of my shipmens fleshe they nothing sparde.
        To rescue which, as backe agyane I far’de,
          The armyes twayne were at my heeles behinde,
          So clos’d mee in, I wist no way to winde.

    9.

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Mirror for Magistrates, Volume 1

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