❧ The first song.
✼ THE ARGUMENT.
The sprightly Muse her wing displaies,
|f Albions glorious Ile the Wonders whilst I write,
The sundry varying soyles, the pleasures infinite
(Where heate kills not the cold, nor cold expells the heat,
The calmes too mildly small, nor winds too roughly great,
Nor night doth hinder day, nor day the night doth wrong,
The Summer not too short, the Winter not too long)
What helpe shall I invoke to ayde my Muse the while?
Thou Genius of the place (this most renowned Ile)
Which livedst long before the All-earth-drowning Flood,
Whilst yet the world did swarme with her Gigantick brood;
Goe thou before me still thy circling shores about,
And in this wandring Maze helpe to conduct me out:
Direct my course so right, as with thy hand to showe
Which way thy Forrests range, which way thy Rivers flowe;
Wise Genius, by thy helpe that so I may discry
How thy faire Mountaines stand, and how thy Vallyes lie;
|From those cleere pearlie Cleeves which see the Mornings pride,
And check the surlie Impes of Neptune when they chide,
|Unto the big-swolne waves in the a Iberian streame,
Where Titan still unyokes his fiery-hoofed Teame,
And oft his flaming locks in lushious Nectar steepes,
When from Olympus top he plungeth in the Deepes:
|a The Western or Spanish Ocean.|
|That from b th’ Armorick sands, on surging Neptunes leas
Through the Hibernick Gulfe (those rough Vergivian seas)
My verse with wings of skill may flie a loftie gate,
§. As Amphitrite clips this Iland Fortunate,
|b The coast of little Britaine in France.|
|Till through the sleepy Maine to c Thuly I have gone,
And seene the frozen Iles, the cold d Ducalidon,
§. Amongst whose Iron rockes grym Saturne yet remaines,
Bound in those gloomie Caves with Adamantine chaines.
Yee sacred e Bards, that to your Harps melodious strings
Sung th’ancient Heroës deeds (the monuments of Kings)
And in your dreadfull verse ingrav’d the prophecies,
The aged worlds descents, and Genealogies;
| c The furthest Ile in the British Ocean.
d The Sea upon the north of Scotland.
e The old British Poets.
|If, as those f Druides taught, which kept the British rites,
And dwelt in darksome Groves, there counsailing with sprites
(But their opinions faild, by error led awry,
As since cleere truth hath shew’d to their posteritie)
When these our soules by death our bodies doe forsake,
§. They instantlie againe doe other bodies take;
I could have wisht your spirits redoubled in my breast,
To give my verse applause, to times eternall rest.
Thus scarcelie said the Muse, but hovering while she hung
|f Priests amongst the ancient Britaines.|
|Upon the g Celtick wastes, the Sea-Nymphes loudlie sung:
O ever-happie Iles, your heads so high that beare,
By Nature stronglie fenc’t, which never need to feare
On Neptunes watry Realmes when Eolus raiseth warres,
And every billow bounds, as though to quench the starres:
Faire Jersey first of these heere scattred in the Deepe,
Peculiarlie that boast’st thy double-horned sheepe:
Inferior nor to thee, thou Jernsey, bravelie crown’d
With rough-imbatteld rocks, whose venom-hating ground
The hardned Emerill hath, which thou abroad doost send:
Thou Ligon, her belov’d, and Serk, that doost attend
Her pleasure everie howre; as Jethow, them at need,
With Phesants, fallow Deere, and Conies that doost feed:
Yee seaven small sister Iles, and Sorlings, which to see
The halfe-sunk sea-man joyes, or whatsoe’re you be,
From fruitfull Aurney, neere the ancient Celtick shore,
To Ushant and the Seames, whereas those Nunnes of yore
§. Gave answers from their Caves, and tooke what shapes they please:
Ye happie Ilands set within the British Seas,
|g The French Seas.|
|the first Song.||3|
|With shrill and jocund shouts, th’unmeasur’d deepes awake,
And let the Gods of Sea their secret Bowres forsake,
Whilst our industrious Muse great Britaine forth shall bring,
Crown’d with those glorious wreathes that beautifie the Spring;
And whilst greene Thetis Nymphes, with many an amorous lay
Sing our Invention safe unto her long-wisht Bay.
Upon the utmost end of Cornwalls furrowing beake,
|Where a Bresan from the Land the tilting waves doth breake;
The shore let her transcend, the b Promont to discry,
And viewe about the Point th’unnumbred Fowle that fly.
Some, rising like a storme from off the troubled sand,
Seeme in their hovering flight to shadow all the land;
Some, sitting on the beach to prune their painted breasts,
As if both earth and aire they onelie did possesse.
Whence, climing to the Cleeves, her selfe she firmlie sets
The Bourns, the Brooks, the Becks, the Rills, the Rivilets,
Exactlie to derive; receiving in her way
That straightned tongue of Land, where, at Mount-Michaells Bay,
Rude Neptune cutting in, a cantle forth doth take;
And, on the other side, Hayles vaster mouth doth make
A * Chersonese thereof, the corner clipping in:
Where to th’industrious Muse the Mount doth thus begin;
Before thou further passe, and leave this setting shore,
§. Whose Townes unto the Saints that lived heere of yore
(Their fasting, works, & pray’rs, remaining to our shames)
Were rear’d, and justly call’d by their peculiar names,
The builders honour still; this due and let them have,
As deigne to drop a teare upon each holie Grave;
Whose charitie and zeale, in steed of knowledge stood:
For, surely in themselves they were right simply good.
If, credulous too much, thereby th’offended heaven
In their devout intents, yet be their sinnes forgiven.
Then from his rugged top the teares downe trickling fell;
And in his passion stirr’d, againe began to tell
Strange things, that in his daies times course had brought to pass,
That fortie miles now Sea, sometimes firme fore-land was;
And that a Forrest then, which now with him is Flood,
§. Whereof he first was call’d the Hoare-Rock in the Wood;
Relating then how long this soile had laine forlorne,
As that her Genius now had almost her forsworne,
And of their ancient love did utterly repent,
Sith to destroy her selfe that fatall toole she lent
By which th’insatiate slave her intrailes out doth draw,
That thrusts his gripple hand into her golden mawe;
And for his part doth wish, that it were in his power
To let the Ocean in, her wholly to devoure.
| a A smal Iland upon the very point of Cornwall.
b A hill lying out, as an elbowe of land, into the Sea.
|Which, Hayle doth over-heare, and much doth blame his rage,
And told him (to his teeth) hee doated with his age.
For Hayle (a lustie Nymph, bent all to amorous play,
And having quicke recourse into the Severne Sea
With Neptunes Pages oft disporting in the Deepe;
One never touch’t with care; but how her selfe to keepe
In excellent estate) doth thus againe intreate;
§. Muse, leave the wayward Mount to his distempred heate,
Who nothing can produce but what doth taste of spight:
Ile shew thee things of ours most worthy thy delight.
Behold our Diamonds heere, as in the quarr’s they stand,
By Nature neatly cut, as by a skilfull hand,
Who varieth them in formes, both curiouslie and oft;
Which for shee (wanting power) produceth them too soft,
That vertue which she could not liberallie impart,
Shee striveth to amend by her owne proper Art.
Besides, the Seaholme heere, that spreadeth all our shore,
The sick consuming man so powerfull to restore:
Whose roote th’Eringo is, the reines that doth inflame
So stronglie to performe the Cytheræan game,
That generally approov’d, both farre and neere is sought.
§. And our Main-Amber heere, and Burien Trophy, thought
Much wrongd, not yet preferd for wonders with the rest.
But, the laborious Muse, upon her journey prest,
Thus uttereth to her selfe; To guide my course aright,
What Mound or steddie Mere is offered to my sight
Upon this out-stretcht Arme, whilst sayling heere at ease,
Betwixt the Southern waste, and the Sabrinian seas,
I view those wanton Brookes, that waxing, still doe wane;
That scarcelie can conceive, but brought to bed againe;
Scarce rising from the Spring (that is their naturall Mother)
To growe into a streame, but buried in another.
When Chore doth call her on, that wholly doth betake
Her selfe unto the Loo; transform’d into a Lake,
Through that impatient love shee had to entertaine
The lustfull Neptune oft; whom when his wracks restraine,
Impatient of the wrong, impetuouslie hee raves:
And in his ragefull flowe, the furious King of waves,
Breaks foming o’re the Beach, whom nothing seemes to coole,
Till he have wrought his will on that capacious Poole
|Where Menedge, by his Brookes, a * Chersonese is cast,
Widening the slender shore to ease it in the wast;
A Promont jutting out into the dropping South,
That with his threatning cleeves in horrid Neptunes mouth,
Derides him and his power: nor cares how him he greets.
Next, Roseland (as his friend, the mightier Menedge) meets
|* A place almost invironed with water, welneer an Iland.|
|the first Song.||5|
|Great Neptune when he swells, and rageth at the Rocks
(Set out into those seas) inforcing through his shocks
Those armes of Sea, that thrust into the tinny strand,
By their Meandred creeks indenting of that Land
Whose fame by everie tongue is for her Myneralls hurld,
Neere from the mid-daies point, throughout the Westerne world.
Heere Vale, a livelie flood, her nobler name that gives
|To * Flamouth; and by whom, it famous ever lives,
Whose entrance is from sea so intricatelie wound,
Her haven angled so about her harbrous sound,
That in her quiet Bay a hundred ships may ride,
Yet not the tallest mast, be of the tall’st descri’d;
Her braverie to this Nymph when neighbouring rivers told,
Her mind to them againe shee brieflie doth unfold;
|* The bravery of Flamouth Haven.|
|Let * Camell, of her course, and curious windings boast,
In that her Greatness raignes sole Mistress of that coast
Twixt Tamer and that Bay, where Hayle poures forth her pride:
And let us (nobler Nymphs) upon the mid-daie side,
Be frolick with the best. Thou Foy, before us all,
By thine owne named Towne made famous in thy fall,
As Low, amongst us heere; a most delicious Brooke,
With all our sister Nymphes, that to the noone-sted looke,
Which glyding from the hills; upon the tinny ore,
Betwixt your high-rear’d banks, resort to this our shore:
Lov’d streames, let us exult, and thinke our selves no lesse
Then those upon their side, the Setting that possesse.
Which, Camell over-heard: but what doth she respect
Their taunts, her proper course that loosely doth neglect?
As frantick, ever since her British Arthurs blood,
By Mordreds murtherous hand was mingled with her flood.
For, as that River, best might boast that Conquerours breath,
So sadlie shee bemoanes his too untimelie death;
Who, after twelve proud fields against the Saxon fought,
Yet back unto her banks by fate was lastly brought:
As though no other place on Britaines spacious earth,
Were worthie of his end, but where he had his birth:
And carelesse ever since how shee her course doe steere,
This muttreth to her selfe, in wandring here and there;
Even in the agedst face, where beautie once did dwell,
And nature (in the least) but seemed to excell,
Time cannot make such waste, but something wil appeare,
To shewe some little tract of delicacie there.
Or some religious worke, in building manie a day,
That this penurious age hath suffred to decay,
Some lim or modell, dragd out of the ruinous mass,
The richness will declare in glorie whilst it was:
|* This hath also the name of Alan.|
|But time upon my waste committed hath such theft,
That it of Arthur heere scarce memorie hath left:
The Nine-ston’d Trophie thus whilst shee doth entertaine,
Proude Tamer swoopes along, with such a lustie traine
As fits so brave a flood two Countries that divides:
So, to increase her strength, shee from her equall sides
Receives their severall rills; and of the Cornish kind,
First, taketh Atre in: and her not much behind
Comes Kensey: after whom, cleere Enian in doth make,
In Tamers roomthier bankes, their rest that scarcelie take.
Then Lyner, though the while aloofe shee seem’d to keepe,
Her Soveraigne when shee sees t’approach the surgefull deepe,
To beautifie her fall her plentious tribute brings.
This honours Tamer much: that shee whose plentious springs,
Those proud aspyring hills, Bromwelly and his frend
High Rowter, from their tops impartiallie commend,
|And is by * Carewes Muse, the river most renound,
Associate should her grace to the Devonian ground.
Which in those other Brookes doth Emulation breed.
Of which, first Car comes crown’d, with oziar, segs and reed:
Then Lid creeps on along, and taking Thrushel, throwes
Her selfe amongst the rocks; and so incavern’d goes,
That of the blessed light (from other floods) debarr’d,
To bellowe under earth, she onelie can be heard,
As those that view her tract, seemes strangelie to affright:
So, Toovy straineth in; and Plym, that claimes by right
The christning of that Bay, which beares her nobler name.
|* A worthy Gentleman, who writ the description of Cornwall.|
|Upon the British coast, what ship yet ever came
That not of Plymouth heares, where those brave Navies lie,
From Canons thundring throats, that all the world defie?
Which, to invasive spoile, when th’English list to draw,
Have checkt Iberias pride, and held her oft in awe:
Oft furnishing our Dames, with Indias rar’st devices,
And lent us gold, and pearle, rich silks, and daintie spices.
But Tamer takes the place, and all attend her here,
A faithfull bound to both; and two that be so neare
For likeliness of soile, and quantitie they hold,
Before the Roman came; whose people were of old
§. Knowne by one generall name, upon this point that dwell,
All other of this Ile in wrastling that excell:
With collars be they yokt, to prove the arme at length,
Like Bulls set head to head, with meere delyver strength:
Or by the girdles graspt, they practise with the hip,
|The praise of Plymouth.|
|* The forward, backward, falx, the mare, the turne, the trip,
When stript into their shirts, each other they invade
Within a spacious ring, by the beholders made,
|*The words of Art in wrastling.|
|the first Song.||7|
|According to the law. Or when the Ball to throw,
And drive it to the Gole, in squadrons forth they goe:
And to avoid the troupes (their forces that fore-lay)
Through dikes and rivers make, in this robustious play;
By which, the toiles of warre most livelie are exprest.
But Muse, may I demaund, Why these of all the rest
(As mightie Albyons eld’st) most active are and strong?
|From * Corin came it first, or from the use so long?
§. Or that this fore-land lies furth’st out into his sight,
Which spreads his vigorous flames on everie lesser light?
With th’vertue of his beames, this place that doth inspire:
Whose pregnant wombe prepar’d by his all-powerful fire,
Being purelie hot and moist, projects that fruitfull seed,
Which stronglie doth beget, and doth as stronglie breed:
The weldisposed heaven heere prooving to the earth,
A Husband furthering fruite; a Midwife helping birth.
But whilst th’industrious Muse thus labours to relate
Those rillets that attend proud Tamer and her state,
A neighbourer of this Nymphes, as high in Fortunes grace,
And whence calme Tamer trippes, cleere Towridge in that place
Is poured from her spring; and seemes at first to flowe
That way which Tamer straines: but as she great doth growe
Remembreth to fore-see, what Rivalls she should find
To interrupt her course: whose so unsettled mind
Ock comming in perceives, & thus doth her perswade;
Now Neptune shield (bright Nymph) thy beautie should be made
The object of her scorne, which (for thou canst not be
Upon the Southern side so absolute as shee)
Will awe thee in thy course. Wherefore, faire flood recoile:
And where thou maist alone be soveraigne of the soile,
There exercise thy power, thy braveries and displaie:
Turne Towridge, let us back to the Sabrinian sea;
Where Thetis handmaids still in that recoursefull deepe
With those rough Gods of Sea, continuall revells keepe;
There maist thou live admir’d, the mistress of the Lake.
Wise Ock shee doth obey, returning, and doth take
The Tawe: which from her fount forc’t on with amorous gales,
And easely ambling downe through the Devonian dales,
Brings with her Moule and Bray, her banks that gentlie bathe;
Which on her daintie breast, in many a silver swathe
Shee beares unto that Bay, where Barstable beholds,
How her beloved Tawe cleere Towridge there enfolds.
The confluence of these Brooks divulg’d in Dertmoore, bred
Distrust in her sad breast, that shee, so largelie spred,
And in this spacious Shire the neer’st the Center set
Of anie place of note; that these should bravelie get
|Our first great wrastler ariving heere with Brute.|
|The praise, from those that sprung out of her pearlie lap;
Which, nourisht and bred up at her most plentious pap,
No sooner taught to dade, but from their Mother trip,
And in their speedie course, strive others to out-strip.
The Yalme, the Awne, the Aume, by spacious Dertmoore fed,
And in the Southern Sea, b’ing likewise brought to bed;
That these were not of power to publish her desert,
Much griev’d the ancient Moore: which understood by Dert
(From all the other floods that onely takes her name,
And as her eld’st (in right) the heire of all her fame)
To shew her nobler spirit it greatlie doth behove.
Deare Mother, from your breast this feare (quoth she) remove:
Defie their utmost force: ther’s not the proudest flood,
That falls betwixt the Mount and Exmore, shall make good
Her royaltie with mine, with me nor can compare:
I challenge any one, to answere me that dare;
That was, before them all, predestinate to meet
My Britaine-founding Brute, when with his puissant fleet
At Totnesse first he toucht: which shall renowne my streame
§. (Which now the envious world doth slander for a dreame.)
Whose fatall flight from Greece, his fortunate arrive
In happy Albyon heere whilst stronglie I revive,
Deare Harburne at thy hands this credit let me win,
Quoth she, that as thou hast my faithfull hand-maid bin:
So now (my onelie Brooke) assist me with thy spring,
Whilst of the God-like Brute the storie thus I sing.
When long-renowned Troy lay spent in hostile fire,
And aged Priams pompe did with her flames expire,
Aeneas (taking thence Ascanius, his young sonne,
And his most reverent Sire, the grave Anchises, wonne
From sholes of slaughtering Greeks) set out from Simois shores;
And through the Tirrhene Sea, by strength of toyling ores,
Raught Italie at last: where, King Latinus lent
Safe harbor for his ships, with wrackfull tempests rent:
When, in the Latine Court, Lavinia young and faire
(Her Fathers onely child, and kingdoms onely heire)
Upon the Trojan Lord her liking stronglie plac’t,
And languisht in the fiers that her faire breast imbrac’t:
But, Turnus (at that time) the proud Rutulian King,
A suter to the maid, Aeneas malicing,
By force of Armes attempts, his rivall to extrude:
But, by the Teucrian power courageouslie subdu’d,
Bright Cythereas sonne the Latine crowne obtain’d;
And dying, in his stead his sonne Ascanius raign’d.
§. Next, Silvius him succeeds, begetting Brute againe:
Who in his Mothers wombe whilst yet he did remaine,
|the first Song.||9|
|The Oracles gave out, that next borne Brute should bee
§. His Parents onelie death: which soone they liv’d to see.
For, in his painfull birth his Mother did depart;
And ere his fifteenth yeere, in hunting of a Hart,
He with a lucklesse shaft his haplesse Father slew:
For which, out of his throne, their King the Latines threw.
Who, wandring in the world, to Greece at last doth get.
Where, whilst he liv’d unknowne, and oft with want beset,
He of the race of Troy a remnant hapt to find,
There by the Grecians held; which (having still in mind
Their tedious tenne yeeres warre, and famous Heroës slaine)
In slaverie with them still those Trojans did detaine:
Which Pyrrhus thither brought (and did with hate pursue,
To wreake Achilles death, at Troy whom Paris slew)
There, by Pandrasus kept, in sad and servile awe.
Who, when they knew young Brute, & that brave shape they saw,
They humbly him desire, that he a meane would bee,
From those imperious Greeks, his countrymen to free.
Hee, finding out a rare and sprightly Youth, to fit
His humour every way, for courage, power, and wit,
Assaracus (who, though that by his Sire he were
A Prince amongst the Greeks, yet held the Trojans deere;
Descended of their stock upon the Mothers side:
For which, he by the Greeks his birth-right was deni’d)
Impatient of his wrongs, with him brave Brute arose,
And of the Trojan youth courageous Captaines chose,
Raysd Earth-quakes with their Drummes, the ruffling Ensignes reare;
And, gathering young and old that rightlie Trojan were,
Up to the Mountaines march, through straits and forrests strong:
Where, taking-in the Townes, pretended to belong
|Unto that * Grecian Lord, some forces there they put:
Within whose safer walls their wives and children shut,
Into the fields they drew, for libertie to stand.
Which when Pandrasus heard, he sent his strict command
To levie all the power he presentlie could make:
So, to their strengths of warre the Trojans them betake.
But whilst the Grecian Guides (not knowing how or where
The Teucrians were entrencht, or what their forces were)
In foule disordred troupes yet straggled, as secure,
This loosness to their spoyle the Trojans did allure,
Who fiercely them assail’d: where stanchlesse furie rap’t
The Grecians in so fast, that scarcely one escap’t:
Yea, proud Pandrasus flight, himselfe could hardlie free.
Who, when he saw his force thus frustrated to bee,
And by his present losse, his passed error found
(As by a later warre to cure a former wound)
|Doth reinforce his power to make a second fight.
When they whose better wits had over-matcht his might,
Loth what they got to lose, as politiquelie cast
His Armies to intrap, in getting to them fast
Antigonus as friend, and Anaclet his pheere
(Surpriz’d in the last fight) by gifts who hired were
Into the Grecian Campe th’insuing night to goe
And faine they were stolne forth, to their Allies to show
How they might have the spoile of all the Trojan pride;
And gaining them beleefe, the credulous Grecians guide
Into th’ambushment neere, that secretlie was laid:
So to the Trojans hands the Grecians were betraid;
Pandrasus selfe surpriz’d; his Crown who to redeeme
(Which scarcely worth their wrong the Trojan race esteeme)
Their slaverie long sustain’d did willinglie release:
And (for a lasting league of amitie and peace)
Bright Innogen, his child, for wife to Brutus gave,
And furnisht them a fleete, with all things they could crave
To set them out to Sea. Who lanching, at the last
They on Lergecia light, an Ile; and, ere they past,
Unto a Temple built to great Diana there,
|The noble Brutus went; wise * Trivia to enquire,
To shew them where the stock of ancient Troy to place.
The Goddesse, that both knew and lov’d the Trojan race,
Reveal’d to him in dreames, that furthest to the West,
§. He should discrie the Ile of Albion, highlie blest;
With Giants latelie stor’d; their numbers now decaid:
By vanquishing the rest, his hopes should there be staid:
Where, from the stock of Troy, those puissant Kings should rise,
Whose conquests from the West, the world should scant suffice.
Thus answer’d; great with hope, to sea they put againe,
And safelie under saile, the howres doe entertaine
With sights of sundrie shores, which they from farre discrie:
And viewing with delight th’Azarian Mountaines hie,
One walking on the deck, unto his friend would say
(As I have heard some tell) So goodly Ida lay.
Thus talking mongst themselves, they sun-burnt Africk keepe
Upon the lee-ward still, and (sulking up the deepe)
For Mauritania make: where putting-in, they find
A remnant (yet reserv’d) of th’ancient Dardan kind,
By brave Antenor brought from out the Greekish spoiles
(O long-renowned Troy! Of thee, and of thy toyles,
What Country had not heard?) which, to their Generall, then
Great Corineus had, the strong’st of mortall men:
To whom (with joyfull harts) Dianas will they show.
Who easlie beeing wonne along with them to goe,
|* One of the titles of Diana.|
|the first Song.||11|
|They altogether put into the watry Plaine:
Oft-times with Pyrats, oft with Monsters of the Maine
Distressed in their way; whom hope forbids to feare.
Those pillars first they passe which Joves great sonne did reare.
And cuffing those sterne waves which like huge Mountaines roule
(Full joy in every part possessing every soule)
In Aquitane at last the Ilion race arrive.
Whom strongly to repulse when as those recreants strive,
They (anchoring there at first but to refresh their fleet,
Yet saw those savage men so rudely them to greet)
Unshipt their warlike youth, advauncing to the shore.
The Dwellers, which perceiv’d such danger at the dore,
Their King Groffarius get to raise his powerfull force:
Who, mustring up an host of mingled foote and horse,
Upon the Trojans set; when suddainly began
A fierce and dangerous fight: where Corineus ran
With slaughter through the thick-set squadrons of the foes;
And with his armed Axe laid on such deadlie blowes,
That heapes of livelesse trunks each passage stopt up quite.
Groffarius having lost the honour of the fight,
Repaires his ruin’d powers; not so to give them breath:
When they, which must be free’d by conquest or by death,
And, conquering them before, hop’t now to doe no lesse
(The like in courage still) stand for the like successe.
Then sterne and deadlie Warre put-on his horridst shape;
And wounds appear’d so wide, as if the Grave did gape
To swallow both at once; which strove as both should fall,
When they with slaughter seem’d to be encircled all:
Where Turon (of the rest) Brutes Sisters valiant sonne
(By whose approved deeds that day was chiefly wonne)
Sixe hundred slue out-right through his peculiar strength:
By multitudes of men yet over-prest at length.
His nobler Uncle there, to his immortall name,
§. The Citie Turon built, and well endow’d the same.
For Albion sayling then, th’arrived quicklie heere
(O! never in this world men halfe so joyful were
With shoutes heard up to heaven, when they beheld the Land)
And in this verie place where Totnesse now doth stand,
First set their Gods of Troy, kissing the blessed shore;
Then, forraging this Ile, long promisd them before,
Amongst the ragged Cleeves those monstrous Giants sought:
Who (of their dreadfull kind) t’appall the Trojans, brought
Great Gogmagog, an Oake that by the roots could teare:
§. So mightie were (that time) the men who lived there:
But, for the use of Armes he did not understand
(Except some rock or tree, that comming next to hand
|Hee raz’d out of the earth to execute his rage)
Hee challenge makes for strength, and offereth there his gage.
Which, Corin taketh up, to answer by and by,
Upon this sonne of Earth his utmost power to try.
All, doubtful to which part the victorie would goe,
Upon that loftie place at Plimmouth call’d the Hoe,
|Those mightie * Wrastlers met; with many an irefull looke
Who threatned, as the one hold of the other tooke:
But, grapled, glowing fire shines in their sparkling eyes.
And, whilst at length of arme one from the other lyes,
Their lusty sinewes swell like cables, as they strive:
Their feet such trampling make, as though they forc’t to drive
A thunder out of earth; which stagger’d with the weight:
Thus, eithers utmost force urg’d to the greatest height.
Whilst one upon his hip the other seekes to lift,
And th’adverse (by a turne) doth from his cunning shift,
Their short-fetcht troubled breath a hollow noise doth make,
Like bellowes of a Forge. Then Corin up doth take
The Giant twixt the grayns; and, voyding of his hould
(Before his combrous feet he well recover could)
Pitcht head-long from the hill; as when a man doth throw
An Axtree, that with sleight deliverd from the toe
Rootes up the yeelding earth: so that his violent fall,
Strooke Neptune with such strength, as shouldred him withall;
That where the monstrous waves like Mountaines late did stand,
They leap’t out of the place, and left the bared sand
To gaze upon wide heaven: so great a blowe it gave.
For which, the conquering Brute, on Corineus brave
This horne of land bestow’d, and markt it with his name;
§. Of Corin, Cornwall call’d, to his immortall fame.
Cleere Dert delivering thus the famous Brutes arrive,
Inflam’d with her report, the stragling rivelets strive
So highlie her to raise, that Ting (whose banks were blest
By her beloved Nymph deere Leman) which addrest
And fullie with her selfe determined before
To sing the Danish spoyles committed on her shore,
When hither from the East they came in mightie swarmes,
Nor could their native earth containe their numerous Armes,
Their surcrease grew so great, as forced them at last
To seeke another soyle (as Bees doe when they cast)
And by their impious pride how hard she was bested,
When all the Country swam with blood of Saxons shed:
This River (as I said) which had determin’d long
§. The Deluge of the Danes exactlie to have song,
It utterlie neglects; and studying how to doe
The Dert those high respects belonging her unto,
|* The description of the wrastling betwixt Corineus and Gogmagog.|
|the first Song.||13|
|Inviteth goodlie Ex, who from her ful-fed spring
Her little Barlee hath, and Dunsbrook her to bring
From Exmore: when she yet hath scarcely found her course,
Then Creddy commeth in, and Forto, which inforce
Her faster to her fall; as Ken her closelie clips,
And on her Easterne side sweet Leman gentlie slips
Into her widened banks, her Soveraigne to assist;
As Columb winnes for Ex, cleere Wever and the Clist,
Contributing their streames their Mistress fame to raise.
As all assist the Ex, so Ex consumeth these;
Like some unthriftie youth, depending on the Court,
To winne an idle name, that keepts a needless port;
And raising his old rent, exacts his Farmers store
The Land-lord to enrich, the Tenants wondrous poore:
Who having sent him theirs, he then consumes his owne,
That with most vaine expense upon the Prince is throwne:
So these, the lesser Brooks unto the greater pay;
The greater, they againe spend all upon the Sea:
As, Otrey (that her name doth of the Otters take,
Abounding in her banks) and Ax, their utmost make
To ayde stout Dert, that dar’d Brutes storie to revive.
For, when the Saxon first the Britans forth did drive,
Some up into the hills themselves o’re Seuerne shut:
Upon this point of land, for refuge others put,
To that brave race of Brute still fortunate. For where
Great Brute first disembarqu’t his wandring Trojans, there
§. His ofspring (after long expulst the Inner land,
When they the Saxon power no longer could withstand)
Found refuge in their flight; where Ax and Otrey first
Gave these poore soules to drinke, opprest with grievous thirst.
Heere I’le unyoke awhile, and turne my steeds to meat:
The land growes large and wide: my Teame begins to sweat.