Song 4


The fourth Song.


England and Wales strive, in this Song,
To whether, Lundy doth belong:
When eithers Nymphs, to cleere the doubt,
By Musick meane to try it out.
Of mightie Neptune leave they aske:
Each one betakes her to her taske;
The Britaines, with the Harpe and Crowd:
The English, both with still and loud.
The Britaines chaunt King Arthurs glory:
The English sing their Saxons storie.
The Hills of Wales their weapons take,
And are an uprore like to make,
To keepe the English part in awe.
There’s heave, and shove, and hold, and draw;
That Severne can them scarce divide,
Till Judgment may the Cause decide.

his while in Sabrin’s Court strong factions strangely grew,
Since Cornwall for her owne, and as her proper due,
Claim’d Lundy, which was said to Cambria to belong,
Who oft had sought redresse for that her ancient wrong:
But her inveterate Foe, borne-out by Englands might,
O’re-swaies her weaker power; that (now in eithers right)
As Severne finds no Flood so great, nor poorelie meane,
But that the naturall Spring (her force which doth maintaine)
a From this or that shee takes; so from this Faction free
(Begun about this Ile) not one was like to bee.
This Lundy is a Nymph to idle toyes inclin’d;
And, all on pleasure set, doth whollie give her mind
To see upon her shores her Fowle and Conies fed,
§. And wantonlie to hatch the Birds of Ganimed.
Of trafique or returne shee never taketh care:
Not provident of pelfe, as many Ilands are:
a From England or
A lustie black-brow’d Girle, with forehead broad and hie,
That often had bewitcht the Sea-gods with her eye.
Of all the In-laid Iles her Soveraigne Severne keepes,
That bathe their amorous breasts within her secret Deepes
(To love her a Barry much and Silly though shee seeme,
The Flat Holme and the Steepe as likewise to esteeme)
a Certaine little Iles
lying within Severne.
This noblest British * Nymph yet likes her Lundy best,
And to great Neptunes grace preferres before the rest.
* Severne.
Thus, b Cambria to her right that would her selfe restore,
And rather then to lose c Loëgria, lookes for more;
The Nymphs of either part, whom passion doth invade,
To triall straight will goe, though Neptune should disswade:
But of the weaker sex, the most part full of spleene,
And onely wanting strength to wreake their angry teene,
For skill their challenge make, which everie one profest,
And in the learned Arts (of knowledges the best,
And to th’heroïck spirit most pleasing under skie)
Sweet Musick, rightlie matcht with heavenlie Poësie,
In which they all exceed: and in this kind alone
They Conquerers vow to be, or lastlie overthrowne.
Which when faire Sabrine saw (as shee is wondrous wise)
And that it were in vaine them better to advise,
Sith this contention sprang from Countries like alli’d,
That shee would not be found t’incline to either side,
To mightie Neptune sues to have his free consent
Due triall they might make: When he incontinent
His Trytons sendeth out the challenge to proclaime.
No sooner that divulg’d in his so dreadfull name,
But such a shout was sent from everie neighboring Spring,
That the report was heard through all his Court to ring:
And from the largest Streame unto the lesser Brooke,
Them to this wondrous taske they seriouslie betooke:
They curle their Ivory fronts; and not the smallest Beck
But with white Pebles makes her Tawdries for her neck;
Lay forth their amorous breasts unto the publique view,
Enamiling the white, with veines that were as blew;
Each Moore, each Marsh, each Mead, preparing rich array
To set their Rivers forth against this generall day.
Mongst Forrests, Hills, and Floods, was ne’re such heave and shove
b Wales.
c England.
Since d Albion weelded Armes against the sonne of Jove.
When as the English part their courage to declare,
Them to th’appointed place immediatly prepare.
A troupe of stately Nymphs proud Avon with her brings
d Albion, Neptunes
son, warred with
(As shee that hath the charge of wise e Minervas Springs)
From Mendip tripping downe, about the tinny Mine.
And Ax, no lesse imploy’d about this great designe,
e The Bathes. All these
Rivers you may see in
The third Song.
the fourth Song. 57
Leads forth a lustie Rout; when Bry, with all her throng
(With very madnes swolne that she had stai’d so long)
Comes from the boggie Mears and queachy fens below:
That Parret (highly pleas’d to see the gallant show)
Set out with such a traine as bore so great a sway,
The soyle but scarcely serves to give her hugenesse way.
Then the Devonian Tawe, from Dertmore deckt with pearle,
Unto the conflict comes: with her that gallant Girle
§. Cleere Towridge, whom they fear’d would have estrang’d her fall:
Whose comming, lastlie, bred such courage in them all,
As drew downe many a Nymph from the Cornubian shore,
That paint their goodlie breasts with sundrie sorts of Ore.
The British, that this while had stood a view to take
What to her utmost power the publique Foe could make,
But slightlie weigh their strength: for, by her naturall kind,
As still the Britan beares a brave and noble mind;
So, trusting to their skill, and goodnes of their Cause,
For speedie Triall call, and for indifferent Lawes.
At length, by both allow’d, it to this issue grew;
To make a likely choise of some most expert crew,
Whose number comming neere unto the others dowre,
The English should not urge they were o’re-borne by powre.
§. Yet hardlie upon Powse they dare their hopes to lay,
For that shee hath commerce with England every day:
§. Nor Rosse; for that too much shee Aliens doth respect;
And following them, forgoes her ancient Dialect.
The a Venedotian Floods, that ancient Britans were,
The Mountaines kept them backe, and shut them in the Reare:
But Brecknock, long time knowne a Country of much worth,
Unto this conflict brings her goodly Fountaines forth:
a Floods of North-
For almost not a Brooke of b Morgany, nor Gwent,
But from her fruitfull wombe doe fetch their hie descent.
For Brecan, was a Prince once fortunate and great
(Who dying, lent his name to that his nobler seat)
b Glamorgan &
With * twice twelve daughters blest, by one and onely wife:
Who for their beauties rare, and sanctitie of life,
To Rivers were transform’d; whose pureness doth declare
How excellent they were, by beeing what they are:
Who dying virgins all, and Rivers now by Fate,
To tell their former love to the unmaried state,
To Severne shape their course, which now their forme doth beare;
Ere shee was made a flood, a virgine as they were.
And from the Irish seas with feare they still doe flie:
So much they yet delight in mayden companie.
Then most renowned Wales, thou famous ancient place,
Which still hast been the Nurse of all the British race,
* A supposed
metamorphosis of
Brecans daughters.
Since Nature thee denies that purple-cluster’d Vine,
Which others Temples chafes with fragrant sparkling Wine;
And being now in hand, to write thy glorious praise;
Fill me a bowle of Meath, my working spirit to raise:
And ere seven Bookes have end, I’le strike so high a string,
Thy Bards shall stand amaz’d with wonder, whilst I sing;
§. That Taliessen, once which made the Rivers dance,
And in his rapture raiz’d the Mountaines from their trance,
Shall tremble at my Verse, rebounding from the skies;
Which like an earth-quake shakes the Tomb wherein he lies.
First our triumphing Muse of sprightly Uske shall tell,
And what to every Nymph attending her, befell:
Which Cray and Camlas first for Pages doth reteane;
With whom the next in place comes in the tripping Breane,
With Isker; and with her comes Hodny fine and cleere,
Of Brecknock best belov’d, the Soveraigne of the Sheere:
And Grony, at an inch, waits on her Mistress heeles.
But entring (at the last) the Monumethian fields,
Small Fidan, with Cledaugh, increase her goodly Menie,
Short Kebby, and the Brooke that christneth Abergeny.
With all her watry traine, when now at last she came
Unto that happie Towne which beares her * onely name,
Bright Birthin, with her friend faire Olwy, kindly meet her;
Which for her present haste, have scarcely time to greet her:
But earnest on her way, she needsly will be gone;
So much she longs to see the ancient Carleon.
When Avon commeth in, then which amongst them all
A finer is not found betwixt her head and fall.
Then Ebwith, and with her slides Srowy; which forelay
Her progresse, and for Uske keepe entrance to the Sea.
When Munno, all this while, that (for her owne behoofe)
From this their great recourse had strangely stood aloofe,
Made proude by Monmouths name appointed her by Fate,
Of all the rest herein observed speciall state.
* Monmouth.
For once the Bards foretold she should produce a a King,
Which everlasting praise to her great name should bring,
Who by his conquering sword should all the land surprise,
a Henry the fift, stiled
of Monmouth.
Which twixt the b Penmenmaur and the c Pyreni lies:
She therefore is allow’d her leasure; and by her
They winne the goodly Wye, whome strongly she doth stirre
Her powerfull helpe to lend: which else she had denide,
Because her selfe so oft to England she allyed:
But b’ing by Munno made for Wales, away she goes.
Which when as Throggy sees, her selfe she headlong throwes
Into the watry throng, with many another Rill,
Repairing to the Welch, their number up to fill.
b A maritime hill in
Caernarvan Shire.
c Hils dividing Spaine
and France.
the fourth Song. 59
That Remny when shee saw, these gallant Nymphs of Gwent,
On this appointed match, were all so hotlie bent,
Where shee of ancient time had parted, as a Mound
The Monumethian fields, and Glamorganian ground,
Intreats the Taffe along, as gray as any glasse:
With whom cleere Cunno comes, a lustie Cambrian Lasse:
Then Elwy, and with her Ewenny holds her way,
And Ogmore, that would yet be there as soone as they,
By Avon called in: when nimbler Neath anon
(To all the neighbouring Nymphs for her rare beauties known;
Besides her double head, to helpe her streame that hath
Her handmaids, Melta sweet, cleere Hepsey, and Tragath)
From Brecknock forth doth breake; then Dulas and Cledaugh,
By * Morgany doe drive her through her watry a saugh;
With Tawy, taking part t’assist the Cambrian power:
§. Then Lhu and Logor, given to strengthen them by Gower.
Mongst whom, some Bards there were, that in their sacred rage
Recorded the Descents, and acts of everie Age.
Some with their nimbler joynts that strooke the warbling string;
In fingering some unskild, but onelie us’d to sing
Unto the others Harpe: of which you both might find
Great plentie, and of both excelling in their kind,
§. That at the Stethva oft obtain’d a Victors praise,
Had wonne the Silver Harpe, and worne Apollos Bayes:
Whose Verses they deduc’t from those first golden times,
Of sundry sorts of Feet, and sundry sutes of Rimes.
* Glamorgan.
a A kind of Trench.
In b Englins some there were that on their subject straine;
Some Makers that againe affect the loftier vaine,
Rehearse their high conceits in Cowiths: other-some
In Owdells theirs expresse, as matter haps to come;
So varying still their Moods, observing yet in all
Their Quantities, their Rests, their Ceasures metricall:
For to that sacred skill they most themselves apply;
Addicted from their births so much to Poësie,
b Englins, Coxiths,
and Axdells, British
formes of verses. See
the Illustrations.
That in the Mountaines those who scarce have seene a Booke,
Most skilfully will * make, as though from Art they tooke.
And as Loëgria spares not any thing of worth
That any way might set her goodly Rivers forth,
As stones by nature cut from the Cornubian Strond;
Her Dertmore sends them Pearle; Rock-vincent, Diamond:
So Cambria, of her Nymphs especiall care will have.
For Conwy sends them Pearle to make them wondrous brave;
* A word, used by the
Ancients, signifying to
The sacred c Virgins-well, her mosse most sweet and rare,
Against infectious damps for Pomander to weare:
c Saint Winifrids Well.
And d Goldcliff of his Ore in plentious sort allowes,
To spangle their attyers, and deck their amorous browes.
d A glistring Rock in
And lastlie, holie Dee (whose pray’rs were highly priz’d,
As one in heavenlie things devoutlie exercis’d:
Who, a changing of his Foards, by divination had
Fore-told the neighboring folke of fortune good or bad)
In their intended course sith needs they will proceed,
His Benediction sends in way of happy speed.
And though there were such haste unto this long-lookt howre,
Yet let they not to call upon th’Eternall Power.
For, who will have his worke his wished end to winne,
Let him with hartie prayer religiouslie beginne.
Wherefore the English part, with full devout intent,
In meet and godlie sort to Glastenbury sent,
Beseeching of the Saints in Avalon that were,
There offring at their Tombes for everie one a teare,
§. And humblie to Saint George their Countries Patron pray,
To prosper their designe now in this mightie day.
The Britans, like devout, their Messengers direct
To David, that he would their ancient right protect.
Mongst Hatterills loftie hills, that with the clowds are crown’d,
a See the eight Song.
The Vally b Ewias lies, immur’d so deep and round,
As they belowe that see the Mountaines rise so hie,
Might thinke the stragling Heards were grazing in the skie:
Which in it such a shape of solitude doth beare,
As Nature at the first appointed it for pray’r:
Where, in an aged Cell, with mosse and lvie growne,
In which, not to this day the Sunne hath ever showne,
That reverent British Saint in zealous Ages past,
To contemplation liv’d; and did so trulie fast,
As he did onelie drinke what crystall Hodney yeelds,
And fed upon the Leeks he gather’d in the fields.
In memorie of whom, in the revolving yeere
The Welch-men on his day that sacred herbe doe weare:
Where, of that holie man, as humblie they doe crave,
That in their just defence they might his furtherance have.
Thus either, well prepard the others power before,
Convenientlie be’ing plac’t upon their equall shore;
The Britans, to whose lot the Onset doth belong,
Give signall to the Foe for silence to their Song.
To tell each various Straine and turning of their Rimes,
How this in compasse falls, or that in sharpeness climes
(As where they rest and rise, how take it one from one,
As every severall Chord hath a peculiar Tone)
Even Memorie herselfe, though striving, would come short:
But the materiall things Muse helpe me to report.
As first, t’affront the Foe, in th’ancient Britans right,
With Arthur they begin, their most renowned Knight;
b In Monmothshire.
the fourth Song. 61
The richness of the Armes their well-made a Worthie wore,
The temper of his sword the (try’d Escalaboure)
The bignes and the length of Rone, his noble Speare;
With Pridwin his great Shield, and what the proofe could beare;
His Baudrick how adorn’d with stones of wondrous price,
§. The sacred Virgins shape he bore for his device;
These monuments of worth, the ancient Britans song.
Now, doubting least these things might hold them but too long,
His warres they tooke to taske; the Land then over-layd
With those proud German powers: when, calling to his ayde
His kinsman Howell, brought from Britany the lesse,
Their Armies they unite, both swearing to suppresse
The Saxon, heer that sought through conquest all to gaine.
On whom he chanc’t to light at Lincolne: where the Plaine
Each where from side to side lay scatter’d with the dead.
And when the conquer’d Foe, that from the conflict fled,
Betooke them to the woods, hee never left them there
Untill the British earth he forc’t them to forsweare.
And as his actions rose, so raise they still their veine,
In words, whose weight best sute a sublimated straine.
§. They sung how he, him selfe at Badon bore that day,
When at the glorious Gole his British Scepter lay:
Two daies together how the battell stronglie stood:
a Arthur, one of the
nine Worthies.
b Pendragons worthie sonne who waded there in blood,
Three hundred Saxons slew with his owne valiant hand.
And after (cald, the Pict, and Irish to withstand)
How he, by force of Armes Albania over-ran,
Pursuing of the Pict beyond Mount Calidon:
There strongly shut them up whom stoutly he subdu’d.
How Gillamore againe to Ireland he pursu’d
So oft as he presum’d the envious Pict to ayde:
And having slaine the King, the Country waste hee laid.
To Goth-land how againe this Conqueror maketh-forth
With his so prosp’rous powers into the farthest North:
Where, Island first he wonne, and Orkney after got.
To Norway sayling next with his deere Nephew Lot,
By deadlie dint of sword did Ricoll there defeat:
And having plac’t the Prince on that Norwegian seat,
How this courageous King did Denmarke then controle:
That scarcelie there was found a Countrie to the Pole
That dreaded not his deeds, too long that were to tell.
And after these, in France th’adventures him befell
At Paris, in the Lists, where he with Flollio fought;
The Emperor Leons power to raise his Siege that brought.
Then bravelie set they forth, in combat how these Knights
On horseback and on foote perform’d their severall fights:
b K. Arthur.
As with what marvailous force each other they assaild,
How mighty Flollio first, how Arthur then prevail’d;
For best advantage how they traversed their grounds,
The horrid blowes they lent, the world-amazing wounds,
Untill the Tribune, tyr’d, sanke under Arthurs sword.
Then sing they how hee first ordain’d the Circled-board,
The Knights whose martiall deeds farre fam’d that Table-round;
Which, truest in their loves; which, most in Armes renown’d:
The Lawes, which long up-held that Order, they report;
§. The Pentecosts prepar’d at Carleon in his Court,
That Tables ancient seate; her Temples and her Groves,
Her Palaces, her Walks, Baths, Theaters, and Stoves:
Her Academie, then, as likewise they prefer:
Of Camilot they sing, and then of Winchester.
The feasts that under-ground the Faërie did him make,
And there how he enjoyd the Lady of the Lake.
Then told they, how him selfe great Arthur did advance,
To meet (with his Allies) that puissant force in France,
By Lucius thither led; those Armies that while-ere
Affrighted all the world, by him strooke dead with feare:
Th’report of his great Acts that over Europe ran,
In that most famous Field he with the Emperor wan:
As how great Rython’s selfe hee slew in his repaire,
Who ravisht Howells Neece, young Hellena the faire;
And for a Trophy brought the Giants coat away
Made of the beards of Kings. Then bravelie chanted they
The severall twelve pitcht Fields he with the Saxons fought:
The certaine day and place to memorie they brought;
Then by false Mordreds hand how last hee chanc’t to fall,
The howre of his decease, his place of buriall.
When out the English cry’d, to interrupt their Song:
But they, which knew to this more matter must belong,
Not out at all for that, nor any whit dismay’d,
But to their well-tun’d Harps their fingers closelie laid:
Twixt every one of which they plac’t their Countries Crowd,
And with courageous spirits thus boldly sang aloud;
How Merlin by his skill, and Magiques wondrous might,
From Ireland hither brought the Stonendge in a night:
§. And for Carmardens sake, would faine have brought to passe,
About it to have built a wall of solid Brasse:
And set his Fiends to work upon the mightie frame;
Some to the Anvile: some, that still inforc’t the flame:
But whilst it was in hand, by loving of an Elfe
(For all his wondrous skill) was coosned by him selfe.
For, walking with his Fay, her to the Rocke hee brought,
In which hee oft before his Nigromancies wrought:
the fourth Song. 63
And going in thereat his Magiques to have showne,
Shee stopt the Caverns mouth with an inchanted stone:
Whose cunning strongly crost, amaz’d whilst he did stand,
Shee captive him convay’d unto the Fairie Land.
Then, how the laboring spirits, to Rocks by fetters bound,
With bellowes rumbling groanes, and hammers thundring sound,
A fearefull horrid dinne still in the Earth doe keepe,
Their Master to awake, suppos’d by them to sleepe;
As at their work how still the grieved spirits repine,
Tormented in the Fire, and tyred at the Mine.
When now the British side scarce finished their Song,
But th’English that repyn’d to be delay’d so long,
All quicklie at the hint, as with one free consent,
Strooke up at once and sung each to the Instrument;
(Of sundry sorts that were, as the Musician likes)
On which the practic’d hand with perfect’st fingring strikes,
Whereby their height of skill might liveliest be exprest.
The trembling Lute some touch, some straine the Violl best
In sets which there were seene, the musick wondrous choice:
Some likewise there affect the Gamba with the voice,
To shew that England could varietie afford.
Some that delight to touch the sterner wyerie Chord,
The Cythron, the Pandore, and the Theorbo strike:
The Gittern and the Kit the wandring Fidlers like.
So were there some againe, in this their learned strife
Loud Instruments that lov’d; the Cornet and the Phife,
The Hoboy, Sagbut deepe, Recorder, and the Flute:
Even from the shrillest Shawme unto the Cornamute.
Some blowe the Bagpipe up, that plaies the Country-round:
The Taber and the Pipe, some take delight to sound.
Of Germanie they sung the long and ancient fame,
From whence their noble Sires the valiant Saxons came,
Who sought by Sea and Land Adventures farre and neere;
And seizing at the last upon the Britans heere,
Surpriz’d the spacious Ile, which still for theirs they hold:
As in that Countries praise how in those times of old,
The sundry Musiques
of England.
§. Tuisco, Gomers sonne, from * unbuilt Babell brought
His people to that place, with most high knowledge fraught,
And under wholsome Lawes establisht their aboad;
Whom his Tudeski since have honor’d as a God:
Whose cleare creation made them absolute in all,
Retaining till this time their pure Originall.
And as they boast themselves the Nation most unmixt,
Their language as at first, their ancient customes fixt,
The people of the world most hardie, wise and strong;
So gloriously they show, that all the rest among
* Gen. 11.8.9.
The Saxons of her sorts the very noblest were:
And of those crooked Skaines they us’d in warre to beare,
Which in their thundring tongue, the Germans, Handseax name,
§. They Saxons first were call’d: whose farre extended fame
For hardiness in warre, whom danger never fraid,
Allur’d the Britans here to call them to their ayde:
From whom they after reft Loëgria as their own,
Brutes ofspring then too weake to keepe it beeing grown.
This told: the Nymphs againe, in nimbler straines of wit,
Next neatly come about, the Englishmen to quit
Of that inglorious blot by Bastard William brought
Upon this conquered Ile: then which Fate never wrought
A fitter meane (say they) great Germany to grace;
To graft againe in one, two Remnants of her race:
Upon their severall waies, two severall times that went
To forrage for themselves. The first of which shee sent
§. To get their seat in Gaul: which on Nuestria light,
And (in a famous warre the Frenchmen put to flight)
Possest that fruitfull place, where onely from their name
§. Call’d North-men (from the North of Germanie that came,
Who thence expeld the Gaules, and did their roomes supply)
This, first Nuestria nam’d, was then call’d Normandy.
That by this meanes, the lesse (in conquering of the great)
Be’ing drawne from their late home unto this ampler seat,
The Normans and the
Saxons of one blood.
Resyding heere, resign’d what they before had wonne;
§. That as the Conquerors blood, did to the conquered runne:
So kindlie beeing mixt, and up together growne,
As severed, they were hers; united, stil her owne.
But these mysterious things desisting now to show
(The secret works of heaven) to long Descents they goe:
How Egelred (the Sire of Edward the last King
Of th’English Saxon Line) by nobly marying
With hardie Richards heire, the Norman Emma, bred
Alliance in their bloods. Like Brooks that from one head
Beare severall waies (as though to sundry Seas to hast)
But by the varying soyle, int’one againe are cast:
So chanced it in this the neernes of their blood.
For when as Englands right in question after stood,
Proud Harould, Goodwins heire, the Scepter having wonne
From Edgar Etheling young, the outlaw’d Edwards sonne;
The valiant Bastard this his onelie colour made,
With his brave Norman powers this kingdome to invade.
Which leaving, they proceed to Pedigrees againe,
Their after-Kings to fetch from that old Saxon straine;
From Margarit that was made the Scottish Malcoms Bride,
Who to her Grandsire had courageous Ironside:
The Normans lost that
name and became
the fourth Song. 65
Which out-law’d Edward left; whose wife to him did bring
This Margarit Queene of Scots, and Edgar Etheling:
That Margarit brought forth Maud; which gracious Macolme gave
To Henry Beuclarks bed (so Fate it pleas’d to have)
§. Who him a daughter brought; which heaven did strangely spare:
And for the speciall love he to the mother bare,
Her Maude againe he nam’d, to th’Almain Emperor wed:
Whose Dowager whilst shee liv’d (her puissant Cæsar dead)
She th’Earle of Anjou next to husband doth prefer.
The second Henry then by him begot of her,
Into the Saxon Line the Scepter thus doth bring.
Then presently againe prepare themselves to sing
The sundry foraine Fields the English-men had fought.
Which when the Mountaines sawe (and not in vaine) they thought
That if they still went on as thus they had begon,
Then from the Cambrian Nymphs (sure) Lundy would be won.
And therefore from their first they challeng’d them to flie;
And (idly running on with vaine prolixitie)
A larger subject tooke then it was fit they should.
But, whilst those would proceed, these threatning them to hold,
a Black-Mountaine for the love he to his Country bare,
As to the beautious Uske, his joy and onely care
(In whose defence t’appeare more sterne and full of dread)
Put on a Helme of clowds upon his rugged head.
Mounchdeny doth the like for his beloved Tawe:
Which quicklie all the rest by their example drawe:
As Hatterell in the right of ancient Wales will stand.
To these three Mountaines, first of the Brekinnian Band,
The Monumethian Hills, like insolent and stout,
On loftie tip-toes then began to looke about;
That Skeridvaur at last (a Mountaine much in might,
In hunting that had set his absolute delight)
a These & the rest
following, the
famousest Hills in
Glamorgan, and
Caught up his a Country Hooke; nor cares for future harmes,
But irefully enrag’d, would needs to open Armes:
a Welch-hook.
Which quicklie put b Penvayle in such outrageous heat,
That whilst for verie teene his hairelesse scalpe doth sweat,
The Blorench looketh bigge upon his bared crowne:
And tall Tomberlow seemes so terribly to frowne,
That where it was suppos’d with small adoe or none
Th’event of this debate would easely have been known,
Such strange tumultuous stirres upon this strife ensue,
As where all griefes should end, old sorrowes still renue:
That Severne thus forewarn’d to looke unto the worst
(And findes the latter ill more dangerous then the first)
The doome she should pronounce, yet for a while delay’d,
Till these rebellious routs by justice might be stay’d;
b So named of his bald
A period that she put to my Discourse so long,
To finish this debate the next ensuing Song.