THE COMPLAYNT OF CADWALLADER.

How Cadwallader the last king of the Brittaynes, after he had behaued himselfe very valiantly against the Saxons, resigned his crowne, and went to Rome, where he liued in a religious house. This storye contayneth in it the estate of al estates.[1208]

You mourning muses al, where euer you remayne,Assist my sobbing soule this drierye tale to tell:You furious furies fearce of lymbo lake belowe,Helpe to vnlade my brest of al the bale it beares:And you who felte the falle from honor’s high renowne:From graues you grizie[1209]ghosts send forth, to helpe me mourn.OPallas, geue thou place, that mourningCliomay,On lute lamenting, sound and sing my doleful dumpes:Let riming metered lines and pleasant musike cease:Let satyres solome sound sende forth the fall I felt:And when the truth of al my tragedie is knowne,Let them that liue then learne, al things must haue an end,ThePersianmonarch andMedes[1210]it downe did fal,That ofAssiria, in tracte of time did end:YeaAlexander’sforce in fight subdude them both,And brought the worlde so wide into one monarchie:What though the fretting force of fate did him dismay?He felt at laste the foyle, his vaunting was in vayne,He dead, the worlde it was deuided as before:TheRomanemperie came tumbling downe at last:And where isTroy, andGreece, and mightieMacedon?They flourishte for a tyme like this my little ile:TheSoldionbrought them downe, and did theyr states destroy:Euen so theSaxonsbrought theBritaynsto the bay,Euen these mine eyes did see, that hateful hidious sight,These feeble handes, when long they labourde had in vaine,Dyd yeeld their interest: then thus I did complayne:Who can refrayne the force of mightye mounting seas?When bellowes make a breache and beate the banckes adown,Doth not the saltish surge then beate the bankes adown?Then man may not withstand the rigor of their rage:But wisedome would haue kept the waues within their boundes:Counsayle doth come to late, when hope of helpe is past:Such was my filthye fate, my lewde and lothsome lucke,I sought a salue to cure and helpe the helpelesse wound:For long before my tyme, seuen kings were setled here.TheSaxonssuch as dwelt by east,Sibertusrulde,TheAnglesin the east,Redwallusrulde as king,ThenEthelbertwas king of all the coast ofKent,InSouthsex Ethelwolfuswore the regall crowne:ThenQuincillinuswas aSaxonking by west,OfMartiain the midst kingPendawas the prince,AndEdwininNorthumberlanddid rule and raygne,How dyd my grandsire, grand renowmedArthur, heThese seuen destroye, with deadly field of wrackfull warre?ButMordredmade the meane, that brought them in agayne:Vortiporuswyth warre almost consumde them all:ThenMalgohe with peace restorde agayne their state,Cariticusthe synne of ciuil stryfe did loue,For whichGurmundusdid theBritaynesmuch annoy:ThenCadwinout ofWaleskyngEtheldreddid spoyle,Cadwallinethen did force kingPendato a foyle.And ICadwalladerat last did presse in place,ThenLotharking ofKentin warre that wretch I slue:AndEthiwolnethe king ofSouthsaxonsI spoylde,The other fiue did me inuade with cruel fight,With whom in diuers warres, I diuersly did speed:SomtimeBellonablewe a blessed blaste for me,And changed chaunce somtime did force[1211]my men to flee:While thus I wagde my warres in secrete silent night,The very voyce of God, it thus to me did speake:Thou striu’st agenst the streame, the tide doth beate thee [backe,]Strike thou thy sailes, take ancor hold, els must thou feele a [wracke.]Which saying did indeede amaze me more by muche,Then al the force that man against my wil might bende:For who the wyll of God with weapons may resist?And when as sinne hath solde a countrye to decay,Then prayer must preuayle, for weapons will not helpe:And when the end is come, when all the glasse is runne,Who can resist the force of fate and destinies?Who things forerunne to fal from falling can refraine?It passeth mortall might to bring such thinges about:Let man content himselfe to do what best he may,By trying too to much, no man his God may tempte,But mortall man must thinke that God the best doth knowe,Who can depresse to dust and rayse when best him please:And as I thus amidst my musinges did remayne,I did resigne my crowne, and deemde al honoures vayne:And though it greeude me muche to feele the fall I felte,Yet was I well content, I could not as I would:For which I left my lande, my people, and my place.TheSaxonsthey obtaynde the wage for which they warrde:When I three yeares had raygn’d, without one day of rest,Euen then in mourning robes atRomeI did ariue,And there contemning all the worlde, and worldly thinges,I made my selfe a monke, (ceasseMemoryto muse)A monke I made my selfe, thou knowst it passing playne:Amongste the friers there, I led my lyngring life:And tyl my dying day I daily did deuise,How by my meanes it might to all the worlde be knowne,That mortall flesh is frayle, and euery thing must fade:And euen amongst those thinges which nature doth create,Nothing so vile as man amongst the rest is founde,Which madeHeraclituswith ceasslesse sighes to wayle,He to hys dying day did nothing els but weepe,Affirming all the worlde vnder the heauen, to beA path of penitence, [a] maze of misery:What is the life of man but care and daily toyle,Bearyng alwayes about a burthen of mishappes?All his delightes repentaunce dayly dothe[1212]pursue:Nothing but death doth bryng hym peace and quiet rest:Yet that which bringes hym blesse, he most of all doth hate,Which madeDemocrituswith myrth to spende his dayes;He laughing aye, did mocke the madnesse of mankynde,Whose loue is long to liue, and feareth much to dye:Death reaues vs from desease, death endes the feare of death:WhenMidasdid demaundeSilenuswhat was bestFor mortall man to wishe, the satyre thus did say:“Not to bee borne, if borne, not long our liues to leade,For life I most do lothe, and death I least doo dread.”And how didTimonleade with sauage beastes his lyfe?How did thatHermitepoore, his lothsome life detest?Affirming with the wiseAureliusemperour,That if a man shoulde make a true discourse of allThe wretched woes he felt, from birth to dying day,The feeble fleshe would faynt to feele so sharpe a fight,The hart would quake to heare dame fortune’s sharpe assaults:And ICadwallader, a king, can make report,That nothing may content the mind of mortall man:The more my selfe did eate, the hungryer ay I was,The more I dranke, the more thirst did me stil distresse,The more I slept, the more I sluggishe did remayne,The more I rested me, the more I wearyed was,The more of wealth I had, the more I dyd desire,The more I still did seeke, the lesse I aye did finde:And to conclude, I founde I neuer coulde obtayneThe thing, but in the ende it caused me to complayne:My present good successe, did threaten thrall to come,And changing chaunce did still with sorowe me consume.For which my royall robes, my crowne I layd aside,Meaning to proue by proofe the paynes of pouertye,Which pouertie I felt all ryches to exceede.It beareth much more blesse then hygh and courtly state,CodrusandIruspoore for wealth did farre surpasse:MidasandCrœsusking, for wealth who did surpasse:And I amongst my mates theRomishefryers, feltMore ioye and lesse anoye, then erst inBritainebraue:For there I doubted still, theSaxon’ssubtile sleyghtes,I feared there the fall from royall regall seat:But here atRomeI liude not fearing force of foe,I had for myne estate what I coulde wish or craue.And this I there did finde: they of the cleargye be,Of all the men that liue the leste in misery.For all men liue in care, they carelesse do remayne:Like buzzing drones they eate the hony of the bee,They only doo excel for fine felicitie:The king must wage his warres, he hath no quiet day,The noble man must rule with care the common-weale,The countreyman must toyle to tyll the barren soyle,With care the marchant man the surging seas must sayle,With trickling droppes of sweat the handcraftes man doth thriue:With hand as hard as bourde the woorkeman eates his bread,The souldiour in the fielde with paine doth get his pay,The seruing man must serue and crouch with cap and knee,The lawier he must pleade and trudge from bentch to barre,Who phisicke doth professe, he is not voyde of care:But churchmen they be blest, they turne a leafe or two,They sometime sing a psalme, and for the people pray,For which they honour haue, and sit in highest place:What can they wishe or seeke, that is not hard at hande?They labour not at al, they knowe no kinde of payne,No daunger dooth with dreade their happy liues distresse,Ceasse you therefore to muse what madnesse made me leaueThe courte and courtly pompe of wearing royal crowne,No madnesse did that deede, but wisedome wisht it so,I gayn’d thereby the blesse which few before me felt:I niene yeares led my life, and neuer felt annoy:And certaynely if nowe I might be king agayne,Refusing all that pompe, I woulde become a priest,A deacon, or a deane, prebende, or minister:For these men leade their liues with liuings two or three.Some haue their substitutes in vniuersities,Some leade the brauest liues that any man may haue,They feede vppon the fleece, they force not of the flocke:Three houres in the yere, with beastly bosomde stuffeThey spend, and that is all that lawe of them requires:Muse not though many thrust and shoulder for degrees,For happy man is he, who hath a preacher’s fees:But let me nowe returne vnto myRomisherout,Who fed like bacon fat, did nought but play and pray.With whom for niene yeares space, when I my life had led,I songe myrequiem, and payde the earth her fee.Then in SaintPeter’schurch atRomethey did me lay,Booted and spur’d, euen as you see me here this day:So now you haue the whole of al my tragedye:OfBrutusbloode the last I liude that rulde as king:MyBritainesdriuen toWalestheyWelchmenthen were calde,And I atRometheir king, a mumbling monke instal’d:TheSaxonshad the day, for which they longed long:TheyEnglandcalde the ile ofBrute, which tooke her name.Some men be borne to blisse, and some to hatefull happe:Who would haue thought, that I in warre a raging kyng,Should by the force of fate, atRomehaue dide a monke?Let al the worlde then know, that nothing is so sure,That can affoorde and say, I thus wyl aye indure:For that which seemeth best, is soonest brought to naught,Which playnely doth appeare by that which I haue taught:The worthiest in the worlde, princes, philosophers,Will teach that I haue taught, and proue it passing playne:Paulus Aemiliusdid dye but wretchedly:And was notScipioeuen to his dying dayConstraynde, to helpe his neede, the painfull plowe to plye?CæsarandSillaboth, did not they tast the whyppe?And made notHannibala miserable end?And how wasSocratesbefore his tyme destroyed,AndAnaxagorasinprisoned long with paine?For cruel beastly coyne diuinePlatowas soulde,AndAristotlesent to exile, where he dyde:And so wasSolonsage, and thatLicurguswise,And many more, which here I could at large repeat:But let these fewe suffice to teach for certaine truth,That al the men that liue, are subiectes al to ruth:And seeing so it is, then let them learne the meane,That if the barke do breake, they safe may swimme to land.

You mourning muses al, where euer you remayne,

Assist my sobbing soule this drierye tale to tell:

You furious furies fearce of lymbo lake belowe,

Helpe to vnlade my brest of al the bale it beares:

And you who felte the falle from honor’s high renowne:

From graues you grizie[1209]ghosts send forth, to helpe me mourn.

OPallas, geue thou place, that mourningCliomay,

On lute lamenting, sound and sing my doleful dumpes:

Let riming metered lines and pleasant musike cease:

Let satyres solome sound sende forth the fall I felt:

And when the truth of al my tragedie is knowne,

Let them that liue then learne, al things must haue an end,

ThePersianmonarch andMedes[1210]it downe did fal,

That ofAssiria, in tracte of time did end:

YeaAlexander’sforce in fight subdude them both,

And brought the worlde so wide into one monarchie:

What though the fretting force of fate did him dismay?

He felt at laste the foyle, his vaunting was in vayne,

He dead, the worlde it was deuided as before:

TheRomanemperie came tumbling downe at last:

And where isTroy, andGreece, and mightieMacedon?

They flourishte for a tyme like this my little ile:

TheSoldionbrought them downe, and did theyr states destroy:

Euen so theSaxonsbrought theBritaynsto the bay,

Euen these mine eyes did see, that hateful hidious sight,

These feeble handes, when long they labourde had in vaine,

Dyd yeeld their interest: then thus I did complayne:

Who can refrayne the force of mightye mounting seas?

When bellowes make a breache and beate the banckes adown,

Doth not the saltish surge then beate the bankes adown?

Then man may not withstand the rigor of their rage:

But wisedome would haue kept the waues within their boundes:

Counsayle doth come to late, when hope of helpe is past:

Such was my filthye fate, my lewde and lothsome lucke,

I sought a salue to cure and helpe the helpelesse wound:

For long before my tyme, seuen kings were setled here.

TheSaxonssuch as dwelt by east,Sibertusrulde,

TheAnglesin the east,Redwallusrulde as king,

ThenEthelbertwas king of all the coast ofKent,

InSouthsex Ethelwolfuswore the regall crowne:

ThenQuincillinuswas aSaxonking by west,

OfMartiain the midst kingPendawas the prince,

AndEdwininNorthumberlanddid rule and raygne,

How dyd my grandsire, grand renowmedArthur, he

These seuen destroye, with deadly field of wrackfull warre?

ButMordredmade the meane, that brought them in agayne:

Vortiporuswyth warre almost consumde them all:

ThenMalgohe with peace restorde agayne their state,

Cariticusthe synne of ciuil stryfe did loue,

For whichGurmundusdid theBritaynesmuch annoy:

ThenCadwinout ofWaleskyngEtheldreddid spoyle,

Cadwallinethen did force kingPendato a foyle.

And ICadwalladerat last did presse in place,

ThenLotharking ofKentin warre that wretch I slue:

AndEthiwolnethe king ofSouthsaxonsI spoylde,

The other fiue did me inuade with cruel fight,

With whom in diuers warres, I diuersly did speed:

SomtimeBellonablewe a blessed blaste for me,

And changed chaunce somtime did force[1211]my men to flee:

While thus I wagde my warres in secrete silent night,

The very voyce of God, it thus to me did speake:

Thou striu’st agenst the streame, the tide doth beate thee [backe,]

Strike thou thy sailes, take ancor hold, els must thou feele a [wracke.]

Which saying did indeede amaze me more by muche,

Then al the force that man against my wil might bende:

For who the wyll of God with weapons may resist?

And when as sinne hath solde a countrye to decay,

Then prayer must preuayle, for weapons will not helpe:

And when the end is come, when all the glasse is runne,

Who can resist the force of fate and destinies?

Who things forerunne to fal from falling can refraine?

It passeth mortall might to bring such thinges about:

Let man content himselfe to do what best he may,

By trying too to much, no man his God may tempte,

But mortall man must thinke that God the best doth knowe,

Who can depresse to dust and rayse when best him please:

And as I thus amidst my musinges did remayne,

I did resigne my crowne, and deemde al honoures vayne:

And though it greeude me muche to feele the fall I felte,

Yet was I well content, I could not as I would:

For which I left my lande, my people, and my place.

TheSaxonsthey obtaynde the wage for which they warrde:

When I three yeares had raygn’d, without one day of rest,

Euen then in mourning robes atRomeI did ariue,

And there contemning all the worlde, and worldly thinges,

I made my selfe a monke, (ceasseMemoryto muse)

A monke I made my selfe, thou knowst it passing playne:

Amongste the friers there, I led my lyngring life:

And tyl my dying day I daily did deuise,

How by my meanes it might to all the worlde be knowne,

That mortall flesh is frayle, and euery thing must fade:

And euen amongst those thinges which nature doth create,

Nothing so vile as man amongst the rest is founde,

Which madeHeraclituswith ceasslesse sighes to wayle,

He to hys dying day did nothing els but weepe,

Affirming all the worlde vnder the heauen, to be

A path of penitence, [a] maze of misery:

What is the life of man but care and daily toyle,

Bearyng alwayes about a burthen of mishappes?

All his delightes repentaunce dayly dothe[1212]pursue:

Nothing but death doth bryng hym peace and quiet rest:

Yet that which bringes hym blesse, he most of all doth hate,

Which madeDemocrituswith myrth to spende his dayes;

He laughing aye, did mocke the madnesse of mankynde,

Whose loue is long to liue, and feareth much to dye:

Death reaues vs from desease, death endes the feare of death:

WhenMidasdid demaundeSilenuswhat was best

For mortall man to wishe, the satyre thus did say:

“Not to bee borne, if borne, not long our liues to leade,

For life I most do lothe, and death I least doo dread.”

And how didTimonleade with sauage beastes his lyfe?

How did thatHermitepoore, his lothsome life detest?

Affirming with the wiseAureliusemperour,

That if a man shoulde make a true discourse of all

The wretched woes he felt, from birth to dying day,

The feeble fleshe would faynt to feele so sharpe a fight,

The hart would quake to heare dame fortune’s sharpe assaults:

And ICadwallader, a king, can make report,

That nothing may content the mind of mortall man:

The more my selfe did eate, the hungryer ay I was,

The more I dranke, the more thirst did me stil distresse,

The more I slept, the more I sluggishe did remayne,

The more I rested me, the more I wearyed was,

The more of wealth I had, the more I dyd desire,

The more I still did seeke, the lesse I aye did finde:

And to conclude, I founde I neuer coulde obtayne

The thing, but in the ende it caused me to complayne:

My present good successe, did threaten thrall to come,

And changing chaunce did still with sorowe me consume.

For which my royall robes, my crowne I layd aside,

Meaning to proue by proofe the paynes of pouertye,

Which pouertie I felt all ryches to exceede.

It beareth much more blesse then hygh and courtly state,

CodrusandIruspoore for wealth did farre surpasse:

MidasandCrœsusking, for wealth who did surpasse:

And I amongst my mates theRomishefryers, felt

More ioye and lesse anoye, then erst inBritainebraue:

For there I doubted still, theSaxon’ssubtile sleyghtes,

I feared there the fall from royall regall seat:

But here atRomeI liude not fearing force of foe,

I had for myne estate what I coulde wish or craue.

And this I there did finde: they of the cleargye be,

Of all the men that liue the leste in misery.

For all men liue in care, they carelesse do remayne:

Like buzzing drones they eate the hony of the bee,

They only doo excel for fine felicitie:

The king must wage his warres, he hath no quiet day,

The noble man must rule with care the common-weale,

The countreyman must toyle to tyll the barren soyle,

With care the marchant man the surging seas must sayle,

With trickling droppes of sweat the handcraftes man doth thriue:

With hand as hard as bourde the woorkeman eates his bread,

The souldiour in the fielde with paine doth get his pay,

The seruing man must serue and crouch with cap and knee,

The lawier he must pleade and trudge from bentch to barre,

Who phisicke doth professe, he is not voyde of care:

But churchmen they be blest, they turne a leafe or two,

They sometime sing a psalme, and for the people pray,

For which they honour haue, and sit in highest place:

What can they wishe or seeke, that is not hard at hande?

They labour not at al, they knowe no kinde of payne,

No daunger dooth with dreade their happy liues distresse,

Ceasse you therefore to muse what madnesse made me leaue

The courte and courtly pompe of wearing royal crowne,

No madnesse did that deede, but wisedome wisht it so,

I gayn’d thereby the blesse which few before me felt:

I niene yeares led my life, and neuer felt annoy:

And certaynely if nowe I might be king agayne,

Refusing all that pompe, I woulde become a priest,

A deacon, or a deane, prebende, or minister:

For these men leade their liues with liuings two or three.

Some haue their substitutes in vniuersities,

Some leade the brauest liues that any man may haue,

They feede vppon the fleece, they force not of the flocke:

Three houres in the yere, with beastly bosomde stuffe

They spend, and that is all that lawe of them requires:

Muse not though many thrust and shoulder for degrees,

For happy man is he, who hath a preacher’s fees:

But let me nowe returne vnto myRomisherout,

Who fed like bacon fat, did nought but play and pray.

With whom for niene yeares space, when I my life had led,

I songe myrequiem, and payde the earth her fee.

Then in SaintPeter’schurch atRomethey did me lay,

Booted and spur’d, euen as you see me here this day:

So now you haue the whole of al my tragedye:

OfBrutusbloode the last I liude that rulde as king:

MyBritainesdriuen toWalestheyWelchmenthen were calde,

And I atRometheir king, a mumbling monke instal’d:

TheSaxonshad the day, for which they longed long:

TheyEnglandcalde the ile ofBrute, which tooke her name.

Some men be borne to blisse, and some to hatefull happe:

Who would haue thought, that I in warre a raging kyng,

Should by the force of fate, atRomehaue dide a monke?

Let al the worlde then know, that nothing is so sure,

That can affoorde and say, I thus wyl aye indure:

For that which seemeth best, is soonest brought to naught,

Which playnely doth appeare by that which I haue taught:

The worthiest in the worlde, princes, philosophers,

Will teach that I haue taught, and proue it passing playne:

Paulus Aemiliusdid dye but wretchedly:

And was notScipioeuen to his dying day

Constraynde, to helpe his neede, the painfull plowe to plye?

CæsarandSillaboth, did not they tast the whyppe?

And made notHannibala miserable end?

And how wasSocratesbefore his tyme destroyed,

AndAnaxagorasinprisoned long with paine?

For cruel beastly coyne diuinePlatowas soulde,

AndAristotlesent to exile, where he dyde:

And so wasSolonsage, and thatLicurguswise,

And many more, which here I could at large repeat:

But let these fewe suffice to teach for certaine truth,

That al the men that liue, are subiectes al to ruth:

And seeing so it is, then let them learne the meane,

That if the barke do breake, they safe may swimme to land.

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