Great Britain -- History -- Poetry; Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616 -- Sources
64.
Is not our noble nation by descent
Sprung from the warlike Troian’s roiall race?
And shall our thoughts be then so baselie bent,
As with subiection seruilie t’embrace
The yoke of loftie Rome the world’s disgrace?
Her fame shall fall, our Britaine state shall rise,
She ore the world no more shall tyrannize.
65.
With swiftest speed returne thou this replie,
That we a people free will still maintaine
’Gainst all the world our ancient libertie,
And that thou well maist know how wee disdaine
The seruile yoke of Rome’s insulting reigne,
Ile bring reuenge, which Rome shall neuer shun
For that great scath which _Cæsar_ here hath done.”
66.
This said, they all amaz’d at my replie
Dismist, made no abode in this our land:
But with winde-winged sailes did swiftly flie
Ouer the depths of Neptune’s high command,
Of whom their _Cæsar_ soone did vnderstand
How his command with scorne we did deride,
In tempting our disdaine with such vaine pride.
67.
A which inrag’d, he in a fatall houre
The tribune _Lucius_ for the warre design’d,
Who into France came downe with all his power,
Where many legionaries he did finde
Vnto that quarter of the world assign’d,
To keepe it peacefull by warr’s threatfull stroke,
Which then began to shake off Roman yoke.
68.
And as he did prepare to greedie fight,
So did we arme vnto the bloodie field
And from each quarter of our land did cite
All such as able were with strength to wield
Or launce, or bowe, or dart, or sword and shield,
Whom we did muster vp in armes well dight
To make them apt and skilfull for the fight.
69.
And in our absence in those forren warres,
To guard our state against all aduerse feare,
We left at home to manage all affaires,
_Mordred_ the brother of my _Gawin_ deare,
Our faithlesse nephew, that false hearted peere,
Th’ignoble sonne of _Loth_ the Pictish king:
From whose blacke treason my sad fall did spring.
70.
Whose loyaltie I little did suspect,
Though on my death his hopes did then depend:
But who so wise hath been that can detect
The meanes and houre, by which the fates intend
To mortall life to adde the finall end?
Though both the meanes and houre most certaine bee,
Yet most vncertaine is the time’s decree.
71.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account