CORINEUS

Your highness knows how many victories How many trophies I erected have, Triumphantly in every place we came The Grecian Monarch warlike Pandrassus, And all the crew of the Molossians, offarius the arm strong King of Gauls, And all the borders of great Aquitaine, Have felt the force of our victorious arms, And to their cost beheld our chivalry, Where ere Ancora handmaid of the Sun, Where ere the Sun-bright gardiant of the day, Where ere the joyful day with cheerful light, Where ere the light illuminates the word, The Trojans glory flies with golden wings, Wings that do soar beyond fell envious flight, The fame of Brutus and his followers Pierceth the skies, and with the skies the throne Of mighty Jove Commander of the world, Then worthy Brutus, leave these sad laments, Comfort your self with this your great renown, And fear not death though he seem terrible. When first I followed thee & thine (brave king) I hazarded my life and dearest blood, To purchase favour at your princely hands, And for the same in dangerous attempts In sundry conflicts and in diverse broils, I showed the courage of my manly mind, For this I combated with Gathelus, The brother to Goffarius of Gaul, For this I fought with furious Gogmagog, A savage captain of a savage crew, And for these deeds brave Cornwale I received, A grateful gift given by a gracious King, And for this gift, this life and dearest blood, Will Corineus spend for Brutus good. And herein how your highness honours me It cannot be in my speech expressed, For careful parents glory not so much At their honour and promotion, As for to see the issue of their blood Seated in honour and prosperity. No dreadful threats can fear judge Rho domanth, Wertenberg thou as strong as mighty Hercules, That tamde the hugy monsters of the world, Plaidst thou as sweet, on the sweet sounding lute, As did the spouse of fair Euridies, That did enchant the waters with his noise, And made stones, birds, and beasts, to led a dance, Constrained the hilly trees to follow him, Thou couldst not move the judge of Crebus, Nor move compassion in grim Plutos heart, For fatal Mors expecteth all the world, And every man must tread the way of death, Brave Tantalus the valiant Pelops sire, Guest to the gods, suffered untimely death, And old Fleithonus husband to the morn, And eke grim Minos whom joust Jupiter Deigned to admit unto his sacrifice, The thundering trumpets of bloodthirsty Mars. The fearful rage of fell Tisiphone. The boisterous waves of humid Ocean, Are instruments and tools of dismal death. Then noble cousin cease to mourn his chance, Whose age & years were signs that he should die. It rests now that we inter his bones, That was a terror to his enemies. Take up the coarse, and princes hold him dead, Who while he lived, upheld the Trojan state. Found drums and trumpets, march to Troinovant, There to provide our chieftains funeral. Full four score years hath Corineus lived, Sometime in war, sometime in quiet peace, And yet I feel my self to be as strong As erst I was in summer of mine age, Able to toss this great unwieldy club Which hath been painted with my foemans' brains, And with this club isle break the strong array Of Humber and his straggling soldiers, Or lose my life amongst the thickest press, And die with honour in my latest days, Yet ere I die they all shall understand What force lies in stout Corineus hand. Art thou that Humber prince of fugitives, That by thy treason slewest young Albanact ? You triumph sir before the victory, For Corineus is not so soon slain. But cursed Scythians you shall rue the day That ere you came into Albania. So perish that they envy Britons wealth, So let them die with endless infamy, And he that seeks his sovereigns overthrow, Would this my club might aggrau to his woe. Where may I find some desert wilderness, Where I may breath out curses as I would, And scare the earth with my condemning voice, Where every echos repercussion May help me to bewail mine overthrow, And aid me in my sorrowful laments? Where may I find some hollow uncouth rock, Where I may damn, condemn and ban my fill, The heavens, the hell, the earth, the air, the fire, And utter curses to the concave sky, Which may infect the airy regions, And light upon the Britain Locrines head? You ugly sprites that in Cocitus mourn, And gnash your teeth with dolorous laments, Yea fearful dogs that in black Lathe howl, And scare the ghosts with your wide open throats, You ugly ghosts that flying from these dogs, Do plunge your selves in Puryflegiton, Come all of you, and with your shrieking notes Accompaie the Britons conquering host. Come fierce Erinnis horrible with snakes, Come ugly Furies, armed with your whips, You threefold judges of black Tartarus, And all the army of you hellish fiends, With new found torme ̄ ts rack proud Locrins bones Oh gods, and stars, damned be the gods & stars That did not drown me in fair Thetis plains. Cursed be the sea that with outrageous waves With surging billows did not rive my ships Against the rocks of high Cerannia, Or swallowed me into her watery gulf, Would God we had arrived upon the shore Where Poliphlemus and the Cyclops dwell, Or where the bloody Anthropomphagie With greedy jaws devours the wandering wights, But why comes Albanacts bloody ghost, To bring a corrosive to our Misery's? Is't not enough to suffer shameful flight, But we must be tormented now with ghosts, With apparitions fearful to behold. And thus, yea thus shall all the rest be served That seek to enter Albion gainst our wills. If the brave nation of the Troglodites, If all the coalblack Aethiopians, If all the forces of the Amazons, If all the hosts of the Barbarian lands, Should dare to enter this our little world, Soon should they rue their overbold attempts, That after us our progeny may say, There lie the beasts that sought to usurp our land. Hath Locrine then forgotten his Guendoline, That thus he courts the Scythians paramour? What are the words of Brutus so soon forgotten? Are my deserts so quickly out of mind? Have I be faithful to thy ire now dead, Have I protected thee from Humbers hands, And dost thou quite me with ungratitude? Is this the guerdon for my grievous wounds, Is this the honour for my labors passed? Now by my sword, Locrine I swear to thee, This injury of thine shall be repayed. Avant proud princox, bravest thou me withal, Assure thy self though thou be Emperor Thou never shalt carry this unpunished. Then Locrine, lo I reconcile my self, But as thou lovest thy life, so love thy wife: But if thou violate those promises, Blood and revenge shall light upon thy head. Come let us back to stately Troinovant, Where all these matters shall be settled. Millions of devils wait upon thy soul. Legion of spirits vex thy impious ghost. Ten thousand torments rack thy cursed bones. Let every thing that hath the use of breath, Be instruments and workers of thy death. In vain you sorrow for the slaughtered prince, In vain you sorrow for his overthrow, He loves not most hat does lament the most, But he that seeks to venge the injury. Think you to quell the enemies warlike train, With childish sobs and womanish laments? Unsheath your swords, unsheath your conquering sword, And seek revenge, the comfort for this soar, In Cornwall where I hold my regiment Even joust ten thousand valiant men at arms Hath Corineus ready at command: All these and more, if needs shall more require, Hath Corrineus ready at command.