Your  raised attentions, whilst my  silver  feet

Touch on the richer shore, and to  this seat

 Vow my  new duties and mine old  repeat. 5

Lest any yet should doubt, or might mistake

What nymph I am,  behold the ample lake

 Of which I am styled; and near it  Merlin’s tomb,

Grave of his  cunning, as  of mine the womb.

By this  it will not ask me to proclaim 10

More of myself, whose actions and whose name

Were so  full feigned in British Arthur’s court,

No more than it will fit me to report

  What hath before been trusted to  our squire

Of me,  my knight, his fate, and my desire 15

To meet, if not  prevent, his destiny

And style him to the court of  Britany,

Now when the island hath regained her fame

Entire and perfect, in the  ancient name,

And that a monarch  equal good and great, 20

Wise, temperate, just, and stout  claims Arthur’s seat.

Did I say equal? Oh, too prodigal wrong

Of my  o’er-thirsty and  unequal tongue!

How brighter far than when our Arthur lived

Are all the glories of this place revived! 25

What riches  do I see; what beauties here!

What awe! What love! What reverence, joy, and fear!

What ornaments of   counsel as of court!

All that is high and great, or can  comport

Unto the style of majesty, that knows 30

No rival but itself, this place here shows.

 Only the House of Chivalry (howe’er

The  inner parts and store be full, yet here,

In that which  gentry should sustain) decayed,

Or rather ruined seems;  her buildings laid 35

Flat with the earth, that were the pride of time,

And did the barbarous  Memphian heaps  out-climb;

Those obelisks and columns  broke and down

 That struck the stars, and raised the British crown

To be a constellation; shields and swords 40

Cobwebbed and rusty; not a helm affords

A spark of lustre, which were wont to give

Light to the world, and made the nation live,

 When in a day of honour fire was smit

To have put out  Vulcan’s and have lasted yet. 45

Oh, when this edifice stood great and high,

That  in the carcass hath such majesty,

Whose very skeleton boasts so much worth,

What grace, what glories, did it then send forth?

When to the structure went more noble names 50

Than the  Ephesian temple lost in flames;

When every stone was laid by virtuous hands;

And standing so – oh, that it yet not stands! –

More  truth of architecture there was blazed

Than lived in all the ignorant  Goths have razed. 55

There  porticos were built, and seats for knights

That  watched for all adventures, days and nights,

 The   niches filled with statues to invite

Young valours forth, by their old forms to fight;

With  arcs triumphal for their actions done, 60

Out-striding the  Colossus of the sun,

And  trophies reared of spoilèd enemies,

Whose tops pierced through the clouds and hit the skies.

 Thy eyes have here on greater glories gazed

And not been frighted. I thy  Arthur am

 Translated to a  star, and of that  frame

Or constellation that was called  of me

So long before,  as showing what I should be: 70

Arcturus, once thy king, and now thy star.

Such  the rewards of all good princes are.

Nor let it trouble thy  design, fair dame,

That I am  present to it with  my flame

And influence, since the times are now  devolved 75

That  Merlin’s mystic prophecies are  absolved

In Britain’s name, the  union of this isle;

 And claim both of my sceptre and my style.

 Fair fall his virtue, that doth fill that throne

In which I joy to find myself   so outshone; 80

 And for the greater, wish men should him take,

As it is nobler to restore than make.

Proceed in thy great work; bring forth  thy knight

Preservèd for his times, that by the might

And magic of his arm he may restore 85

These ruined seats of virtue, and build more.

Let him be famous, as was  Tristram, Tor,

Lanc’lot, and all our list of knighthood, or

Who were before, or have been since.  His name

Strike upon heaven, and there stick his fame! 90

 Beyond the paths and searches of the sun

Let him  tempt fate; and when a world is won,

Submit it duly to this state and throne,

Till time, and  utmost stay, make that his own.

 But first receive this shield, wherein is wrought 95

The truth that he must follow, and (being taught

The ways from heaven) ought not to be despised.

It is a piece was by the  Fates devised

To arm his  maiden valour, and to show

 Defensive arms th’offensive should forego. 100

Endow him with it, Lady of the Lake.

And for the other  mysteries here, awake

The learnèd Merlin;  when thou shut’st him there,

Thou buriedst valour too, for  letters rear

The deeds of honour high, and make them live. 105

If then thou seek to restore prowess, give

His spirit freedom; then present thy knight;

For arms and arts sustain each others’ right.

To expiate it. There’s no resisting fate. 110

Arise, great soul! Fame by  surreption got

May  stead us for the time, but lasteth not.

  [Thunder.]

Oh, do not rise with storm and rage. Forgive

Repented wrongs.  I’m cause thou now shalt live

Eternally; for, being depressed a while, 115

Want makes us know the price of what we  avile.

That feels these motions when great spirits stir.

She is affrighted, and now chid by heaven,

Whilst we walk calmly on, upright and even. 120

Call forth the fair  Meliadus, thy knight;

They are  his Fates that make the elements fight,

And these  but usual  throes, when time sends forth

A wonder or a spectacle of worth.

 At common births the world feels nothing new; 125

At these she shakes; mankind lives in a few.

Meliadus, show thee, and  conclude all jars.

What place is this so bright that doth remain

Yet undemolished, or but late built? Oh,

I  read it now:  Saint George’s portico!

The supreme head of all the world, where now

Knighthood lives honoured with a crownèd brow. 135

A noble scene, and fit to show him in

That must of all world’s fame the garland win.

The better of him, in his armour clad?

And those his six assistants,  as the pride 140

Of the old Grecian heroes had not died?

Or like  Apollo, raised to the world’s view,

The minute after he the Python slew?

 My thought grows great of him, and fain would  break. 145

Invite him forth, and  guide him to his tent,

That I may read this shield his fates present.

Come forth! Your  fostress bids, who from your birth

Hath bred you to this hour, and for this throne. 150

This is the field to make your virtue known.

[To Merlin] If he were now ( he says) to vow his fires

Of faith, of love, of service, then  his squires

Had uttered nothing for him; but he hopes

In the  first tender of himself his  scopes 155

Were so well  read as it were no decor’m

Where truth is studied, there to practise  form.

 Let down from heaven, that to his youth will yield

 Such copy of  incitement – not the deeds 160

Of antique knights, to catch their fellows’ steeds,

Or ladies’  palfreys rescue from the force

Of a  fell giant,  or some score to unhorse.

These were bold stories of our Arthur’s age,

But here are other acts; another stage 165

And scene appears; it is not since as then:

No giants, dwarfs, or monsters here, but men.

His arts must be to govern, and give laws

To peace no less than arms.  His fate here draws

An empire with it, and describes each state 170

Preceding there that he should imitate.

[To Meliadus] First, fair Meliadus, hath  she wrought an isle,

The  happiest of the earth –  which to your style

In time must add – and in it placèd high

Britain,  the only name made Caesar fly. 175

Within the  nearer parts, as apt and due

To your first  speculation, you may view

The eye of justice shooting through the land,

Like a bright planet strengthened by the hand

Of  first, and warlike Edward; then th’increase 180

Of trades and tillage under laws and peace,

Begun by him, but settled and  promoved

By the  third hero of his name, who loved

To set his own a-work, and not to see

The  fatness of his land a portion be 185

For strangers. This was he erected first

The trade of clothing, by which art were nursed

Whole millions to his service, and relieved

So many poor,  as since  they have believed

The  golden fleece, and need no  foreign mine, 190

If industry at home do not decline.

To prove which true, observe what treasure here

The wise and  seventh Henry  heaped each year,

To be the strength and sinews of a war,

 When Mars should thunder, or his peace but jar. 195

And here how the  eighth Henry, his brave son,

 Built forts, made general musters, trained youth on

In exercise of arms, and girt his coast

With strength; to which (whose fame no tongue can boast

Up to her worth, though all best tongues be glad 200

To name her still) did great  Eliza add

A wall of shipping, and became thereby

The aid or  fear of all the nations  nigh.

 These, worthiest prince, are set you near to read,

That civil arts the martial must precede; 205

That laws and trade bring honours in and gain,

And arms defensive a safe peace maintain.

But when your fate shall call you forth t’assure

Your virtue more, though not to make  secure,

 View here what  great examples she hath placed. 210

First, two brave Briton heroes, that were graced

To fight  their Saviour’s battles, and did bring

Destruction on the faithless; one a king,

 Richard, surnamèd with the lion’s heart.

The other, Edward, and the first, whose part, 215

Then being but prince, it was to lead these wars

In the age after, but  with better stars.

For here though Coeur de Lion like a storm

Pour on the Saracens, and doth perform

Deeds past an angel, armed with wrath and fire, 220

Ploughing whole armies up with zealous ire,

And wallèd cities, while he doth defend

 That cause that should all wars begin and end;

 Yet when with pride, and for  humane respect

The Austrian colours he doth here  deject 225

With too much scorn, behold at length how Fate

Makes him a wretched prisoner to that state,

And leaves him as a mark of Fortune’s spite,

When princes  tempt their stars beyond their light;

 Whilst upright Edward shines no less than he 230

Under the wings of golden victory,

Nor lets out no less rivers of the blood

Of infidels, but makes the field a flood,

And marches through it with  Saint George’s cross,

 Like Israel’s host, to the Egyptians’ loss, 235

Through the Red Sea, the earth beneath him cold

And quaking such an enemy to behold.

For which, his tempered zeal, see Providence

Flying in here, and arms him with defence

Against th’ assassinate made upon his life 240

 By a foul wretch, from whom he wrests the knife,

And gives him a just hire; which yet remains

A warning to great chiefs to keep their  trains

About ’em  still, and not to  privacy

Admit a hand that may use treachery. 245

 Nearer than these, not for the same high cause,

Yet for the  next – what was his right by laws

Of nations due –  doth fight that Mars of men,

The  Black Prince Edward, ’gainst the French, who then

At   Crécy field had no more years than you. 250

Here his glad father has him in the view

As he is ent’ring in the school of war,

And pours all blessings on him from afar

 That wishes can; whilst he, that close of day,

Like a young lion newly taught to prey, 255

 Invades the herds – so fled the French – and tears

From the Bohemian crown the plume he wears,

Which after for his crest he did preserve

To his father’s use, with this fit word,  I serve.

But here at  Poitiers he was Mars indeed. 260

Never did valour with more  stream succeed

Than he had there. He flowed out like a sea

Upon their troops, and left their arms no way;

Or like a fire carried with high winds

Now broad and spreading, by and by it finds 265

 A vent upright, to look which way to burn,

Then shoots along again, or round doth turn,

Till in the circling  spoil it hath embraced

All that stood nigh,  or in the reach to waste.

Such was his rage that day; but then forgot 270

Soon as his sword was sheathed; it lasted not

After the King, the  Dauphin, and French peers,

By yielding to him,  wisely quit their fears,

Whom he did use with such humanity,

 As they complained not of captivity, 275

But here to England without shame came in.

To be his captives was the  next to win.

Yet  rests the other  thunderbolt of war,

 Harry the fifth, to whom  in face you are

So like, as Fate would have you so in worth, 280

Illustrious prince.  This virtue ne’er came forth

But Fame flew greater for him than she did

For other mortals; Fate herself did bid

To save his life;  the time it reached unto,

War knew not how to  give’m enough to do. 285

His very name  made head against his foes.

And  here at  Agincourt where first  it rose,

It there hangs still a comet over France,

Striking their malice blind that dare advance

A thought against it, lightened by your flame 290

That shall succeed him both in deeds and name.

I could report more actions yet of weight

Out of  this orb, as here of  eighty-eight

Against the proud Armada, styled by Spain

The Invincible, that covered all  the main, 295

 As if whole islands had broke loose and swam,

Or half of Norway with her fir trees came

To join the  continents, it was so great;

Yet by the  auspice of Eliza  beat,

 That dear beloved of heaven, whom to preserve 300

The winds were called to fight, and storms to serve.

One  tumour drowned another, billows strove

To out-swell ambition, water air out-drove,

Though  she not wanted, on that glorious day,

An ever-honoured  Howard to display 305

Saint George’s ensign; and of that  high race

 A second, both which plied the fight and chase,

And sent first bullets,  then a fleet of fire

Then shot themselves like  ordnance, and a  tire

Of ships  for pieces, through the enemy’s  moon, 310

That waned before it grew; and now they soon

Are rent,  spoiled, scattered, tossed with all  disease,

And for their  thirst of Britain drink the seas.

The fish were never better fed than then,

Although at first they feared the blood of men 315

 Had changed their element; and  Neptune shook

As if  the Thunderer had his palace took.

So here in Wales, Low Countries, France, and Spain,

You may behold both on the land and main

The  conquests got, the spoils, the trophies reared 320

By British kings, and such as noblest  heard

Of all the nation,  which may make t’invite

Your valour upon need, but not t’incite

Your neighbour princes; give them all their due,

And be prepared if they will trouble you. 325

 He doth but scourge himself, his sword that draws

Without a purse, a counsel, and a cause.

But all these spurs to virtue, seeds of praise

Must yield to  this that comes. Here’s one will raise

Your glory more, and so above the rest, 330

As if the acts of all mankind were  pressed

In his example. Here are kingdoms mixed

And nations joined, a strength of empire fixed

 Conterminate with heaven.  The golden vein

Of Saturn’s age is here broke out again. 335

 Henry but joined the roses that  ensigned

Particular families, but  this hath joined

The rose and thistle, and in them combined

A union that shall never be  declined.

 Ireland, that more in title than in fact 340

Before was conquered, is his  laurel’s act.

The wall of shipping by Eliza made,

Decayed – as all things subject are to fade –

 He hath new built, or so restored, that men

For noble  use  prefer it afore then: 345

Royal and mighty James, whose name shall set

A goal for all posterity to sweat

In running at, by actions hard and high.

This is the height at which  your thoughts must fly.

 He knows both how to govern, how to  save, 350

What subjects, what  their contraries should have,

What can be done by power, and what by love,

What should to mercy, what to justice move.

All arts he  can, and  from the hand of Fate

Hath he enforced the making his own date. 355

Within his  proper virtue hath he placed

His guards ’gainst Fortune, and there fixèd fast

The  wheel of chance, about which kings are hurled,

And whose  outrageous raptures fill the world.

Must only serve, and give yourself unto;

And by your diligent practice to obey

So wise a master, learn the  art of sway.

 Merlin, advance the shield upon his tent.

[Merlin descends into the hall, taking the shield.] 365

And now prepare, fair knight, to  prove th’event

Of your bold challenge. Be your virtue steeled,

And  let your drum give note you keep the field.

[Drum sounds.]

Is this the land of Britain, so renowned 370

For deeds of arms, or are their hearings drowned

That none do answer?

A person in yond cave. Who should that be?

I know her  ensigns now: ’tis  Chivalry, 375

Possessed with sleep, dead as a  lethargy.

If any charm will wake her, ’tis the name

Of our Meliadus. I’ll use his fame.

[To Chivalry] Lady, Meliadus,  lord of the isles,

Princely Meliadus, and whom Fate now styles 380

The faire Meliadus, hath hung his shield

Upon his tent, and here  doth keep the field,

According to his bold and princely word,

And  wants employment for his pike and sword.

Which is the knight? Oh, I could gaze a day

Upon his armour that hath so revived

My spirits, and tells me that I  am long lived

In his appearance. Break, you rusty doors

That have so long been shut, and from the shores 390

Of all the world come knighthood like a flood

Upon  these lists, to make the field here good,

And your own honours, that are now called forth

 Against the wish of men to prove your worth.

In princes to use fortune reverently.

He that in deeds of arms obeys his  blood

Doth often tempt his destiny beyond good. 400

Look on this throne, and in his  temper view

The light of all that must have grace in you:

His equal justice, upright fortitude

And  settled prudence, with that peace endued

Of face, as mind, always himself and  even. 405

 So Hercules and good men bear up heaven.

I dare not speak his virtues for the fear

Of flattering him, they come so high and near

To wonders; yet thus much I prophesy

Of him and his. All ears yourselves apply. 410

You, and your  other you, great King and Queen,

Have yet the least of your bright fortune seen,

Which shall rise brighter every hour with time,

 And in your pleasure quite forget the crime

Of change; your age’s night shall be her noon. 415

 And this young knight, that now puts forth so soon

Into the world, shall in your names achieve

More garlands for this state, and shall relieve

Your cares in government; while that  young lord

Shall second him in arms, and shake a sword 420

And lance against the foes of God and you.

 Nor shall less joy your royal hopes pursue

In that most  princely maid, whose  form might call

The world to war, and make it hazard all

 His valour for her beauty; she shall be 425

Mother of nations,  and her princes see

Rivals almost to these; whilst you sit high

And, led by them, behold your Britain  fly

Beyond the line, when what the seas before

Did bound, shall to the sky then stretch his shore.  430