The Complaynt Of Vortiger. Poem by Thomas Blenerhasset

By quiet peace of Ianus ioylitie,
Their happy hauens with forewinds forst some haue,
By wrackful warres of Mars his crueltie,
With much adoo some get the Goale they craue,
By subtyl sleightes and fetches boulstred braue,
My haplesse hand dyd hyt with leueled lyne,
The aymed marke, the more mishap was myne.

By gyftes of grace some men haue happy hap,
By blessed byrth to Kyngdomes borne some be:
Succession sets some men in Fortunes lap,
By wisedome, wyt, and prudent policie,
Some clyme aloft by trustlesse treacherie:
And courage dooth a multitude aduaunce,
Driftes finely filde they dyd my state inhaunce.

I Vortiger by byrth was borne a Lorde,
Kyng Constantine his Coosin did me call,
I cride amayne, and clapt his crowne a borde,
And for a tyme til Fortune forst my fall,
With restlesse blesse I sate in stately stall:
But men of warre of much more might then I,
For my desert my carefull corpes did fry.

As furious force of fiery flashing flame,
With Cinders brought my body to decay,
So smulderyng smokes of euerlasting shame
Reude my renowne, and wipte my fame away.
What may I more of my misfortune say?
I sigh to see, I silent ceasse to tell
What me destroide, and drownd my soule in hel.

Here to repeate the partes that I haue playd,
Were to vnrippe a trusse of trumpery,
For me to shew how I aloft was stayde,
Were to erect a schoole of Trechery:
Silence is best, let no man learne by me
Nor by my meanes, how they by wicked waies,
From low estate, aloft them selues may rayse.

As good men can by wicked workes beware,
So wicked men by wicked workes be wise,
If ill men reade my deedes which wicked were,
They by my meanes will compasse their surmise:
For wicked workers dayly do deuise,
To make examples vile and vicious,
To stand in stead, to serue their lawlesse lust.

The Serpent thence his venym vile dooth drawe,
From whence the Bee her honny sweete dooth get,
Leawd liuers learne to breake the written lawe,
By that, whereby good men doo learne much wit.
For wicked men eche fetche is thought most fyt,
To serue their turne: therefore I compt it best,
To leaue my faultes and follyes vnconfest.

Geue leaue therefore good Memory, I may
Not here repeate my tedious Tragedy,
Inquiry, let me nowe departe away.
My common weale subuerted was by me,
I leawdly liude, and dyde in misery,
And for my faultes I felt disdayneful smarte,
Let this suffice, and let me nowe departe.

With that he seemde as on that would away,
But Memory (stay stay thy steppes quoth she)
Let wicked men procure their owne decay,
We recke it not, if warned once they be.
Let that suffice, and let thy misery
Make iust report, how vayne, and vile a thing
It is, to liue as a vsurping King.

Sith needes I must repented faultes forerunne
Repeat, and tel the fal and foyle I felt,
Patience perforce, to speake shame bids me shunne,
To thinke thereof dooth make my harte to melte.
But sith I needes must shewe howe here I delt,
I am contente to tell the truth of al,
Let wise men learne to stande, which reade my fal.

For first I causde the young king Constantine,
Of faythlesse Scots and Pictes to make his garde,
They by my meanes did kil their kyng in fine,
For which, with speede I sent them al to warde,
And hangde them al, their cause was neuer harde,
So I who fyrst did cause them kil their king,
To stop their mouthes, them al to death did bring.

Where Rancor rules, where hatreds heate is hot,
The hurtelesse men with trouble be turmoylde:
Where Malice may send foorth her Cannon shot,
There might is right, there reasons rules are foylde.
For ruthful Rancor euermore hath boylde
With griping griefe: her smuldring smokes of spite,
Woulde gladly choke al iustice, lawe, and right.

So might, not right, did thrust me to the Throne,
I syxteene yeeres did weare the royal Crowne,
In al which time with griefe I aye did grone,
As on who felt the fal from high renowne.
My Noble men deuisde to thrust me downe
In al this time, and many did protest,
I layde the king in his vntimely Chest.

At last, my foes my friendes were made, and I
Had quiet peace, and liude a happy king:
Yea, God who rules the haughtie heauen a hygh,
Inricht my realme with foysen of eche thing,
Aboundant store did make my people syng.
As they of yore were prest with penury:
So nowe they hate their great fertilitie.

My people had of Corne and Oyle such store,
That Countrey men of tyllage left the toyle,
The riche man fed no better then the poore,
For all did reape the fatnesse of the soyle,
No man for meate nor mony then did toyle,
But al reioyce with ioyful Iubily,
And al were soust with sinful Gluttony.

As cloudes dissolude fayre Phebus dooth deface,
So plague my plenty dimd with darke disease:
For whilste my realme in ryot ran her race,
They playde, not prayed, and did their God displease.
For which they drownde in sorrowes surging seas,
Lyke rotten sheepe by thousands dide so thicke,
The deade coulde not be buried by the quicke.

When thus the plague my people did oppresse,
That fewe were left alyue within my lande,
The Scots and Pictes, with speede they them addrest,
Knowing their time, they raysde a mightie bande,
They knewe right soone, howe here my state did stande.
And to reuenge the wrong that earst I wrought,
They ment to bring both me and myne to nought.

See howe abuse breedes blake and bitter bale,
Misuse dooth make of plenty, lothsome lacke,
Amidst his blesse with wo it makes man wale,
Onely abuse dooth woorke mans wretched wracke:
Amidst my ioyes, from ioye it beate me backe.
For I and myne misusde our present blesse,
Which brought both me and mine to wretchednesse.

We first misusde our present pleasaunt plentie,
For which we whipt in thrall with scourges three,
Had Pestilence, which made my kingdome emptie,
It did destroy my men of eche degree,
Then faynting Famine playde her Tragedy,
Bellona then that beastly bloody Queene,
Did blowe her Trumpe to dashe my courage cleene.

When sickenesse had consumde my subiectes quite,
The Pictes with pride did hast to spoyle my lande,
I had no men, nor meanes with them to fight,
For which I sent and did obtayne a bande
Of Saxons, such as did the Scots withstande.
Whose helpe that I when neede requirde might haue,
I gaue them Kent, a countrey passing braue.

These Saxons were a crewe of warrelike wightes,
They liude by spoyle, and had no byding place,
They were of truth a troupe of Martial knyghtes,
Which serude for pay where Mars extolde his Mace.
Saxons in deede they were of royal race,
They Angli hight, a stocke of woorthy fame,
Of them this realme of Englande tooke her name.

These Angli brought the Britaynes to the bay,
We Welchemen cald, to Wales they did vs driue,
They brought syxe sortes of Saxons to decay,
And got the Goale for which they long did striue.
Of other stockes they left not one alyue,
They al this realme did plant with Angli then,
And termde themselues of Angli, Englishmen.

But howe they brought this enterprise about,
Marke well the sequel which I shal recite:
Hengestus he the Chieftayne of the route,
A suttle Sir, an vndermiming wight,
To feede my vaynes he tooke a great delight.
His craftie heade did deame it the best way,
With pleasant baytes to make my Crowne his pray.

He me his king inuited to a feast,
A feast in fayth, which forst my final fall:
Where Cupides curse constraynde me like a beast,
From Pallas prince to geue the golden Ball,
For Venus vantes to Helline threwe me thrall,
Whose heauenly hewe, whose beautie freshe and fayre,
Was burnishte bright like Phoebus in the ayre.

I being set at Bacchus banqueting,
His daughter deckt with Natures Tapistrie,
And trimly trickte with euery other thing,
Which might delight a louers fantasie:
Why shoulde mans mynde to loue thus subiect be?
I had a wyfe, a passing princely peece,
Which farre did passe that gallant Gyrle of Greece.

Yet from my wyfe (the woorthiest wench aliue,)
My fancies fell, I lothde her louely bed:
Howe I Hengestus daughter might achieue
Was al my care, I did this Damsel wed,
My wife diuorste, I had her in the steede.
Her louely lookes, her pretie pleasant cheare,
Made me esteeme her onely loue most deare.

I wore the crowne, her wyl dyd rule the rest,
And her demaunde I neuer did deny:
What she alowd I did esteeme that best.
Which when her Father Hengest did espye,
He had the pray for which he long did prye.
He made his hay whilst weather fayer was,
And by her meanes he brought it thus to passe:

That Bryttaynes we with toyle shoulde till the ground,
They Saxons woulde defende our wealth with warre,
Which graunted once, they did inhabite rownde
About my realme, and might both make and marre.
New Saxons in my realme aryued were,
By meanes whereof my Brittaynes did suspect
The Saxons slayghtes, and did their deedes detect.

Then they good men to me their king complaind,
These men quoth they, from vs our realme wil winne,
Except they from our frontiers be refraind.
Which when they told, my wife she was within,
O Husband deare, they be (saide she) my kin,
Ceasse of thy force thy faithful dreads to feare,
They meane no hurt, by Ioue the iust I sweare.

So I esteemed not my subiectes health,
That I might still my ladies loue enioye,
They vewde me carelesse of my common wealth,
To saue themselues they ment me to annoy.
Myne eldest sonne a proper prety boy,
They made their kyng, and me for my desert,
They did depriue: with paine which pincht my heart.

Then Vortiger my sonne and kyng pursude
The Saxons sore, and dyd amaze then much,
For which my wyfe his mother lawe indude
With diuelish spite, agaynst the youth did grutche,
She him destroyde, her good successe was such.
When he seuen yeares had raygnde with great renowne,
With poyson she depriude him of his crowne.

I to obtaine the seate from whence I fel,
With sacred oth I solemnly did sweare,
To ende the woorke which was begonne so wel,
And to subdue the Saxons euery where.
The Britaines to my kingly crowne did reare
Me quickely then, I at the fyrst, by might
Defaste my foes in euery fray and fyght.

Then lothsome Lucke did turne her whurling wheele,
With treason trust intrapte did me betray,
Hateful Mishappe she had me by the heele,
And clapte me close in dungeon of Decay,
To Hengest nowe I must a raunsome pay.
And if I loude my life and libertie,
I needes must graunt al he dooth aske of me.

For chaunged chaunce of Mars his warres, hath made
Me of a king a Captaynes prisoner,
To whom there must nowe foure Sheares be payde,
Northfolke, Southfolke Southsexe, & Kent they were,
Me to release from out my caue of care.
Which being donne, I led my life in doute,
And fledde for feare to Wales with al my route.

Where as I founde a place that pleasde me much,
The situation seemde so passing strong,
The worlde me thought might not annoy it much,
A Castel there I builte: it were to long
Here to repeate, silence shall do no wrong
To Marlayne, he who wonders there hath wrought,
If auncient write to vs the truth hath taught.

When I had buylt my princely bower there,
In bloody feeldes I meant no more to striue:
But true reporte did dashe my present cheere,
In Totnesse hauen two brethren did ariue,
Which quickly would from that my forte me driue.
The brethren both of Constantine the Kyng,
Peccaui they did meane to make me sing.

From worse to worse seldome is better seene,
Our present ioyes hereafter thralles do threate,
And he who now doth flourish freshe and greene,
Must fade and fal as Hyems frostes doo frette
Dame Floraes feeldes, or as the rayne with wet
In dropping dayes the pleasaunt playnes doth drowne:
So ruthfull men reaues vs from renowne.

Men may therfore like Marmaydes euer mourne,
The shining Sunne who do so much delight,
That aye they waile like Furies quite forlorne.
When Sol doth shine, when Titans beames be bright,
They feare the stormes that may hereafter light,
They weepe because they must the Sunne forgoe,
When stormes do fal, they wayle their present woe.

So mortal man with malice al bested,
When good successe dooth sounde a blessed blaste,
With brinishe teares then may they eate their bread.
For happy dayes from man dooth flee as fast
As poulders force from peece dooth pellet cast,
And troubles tedious time with pacelesse staye,
Once wonne (alas) will neuer walke away.

Howe I in maze of trouble here did toyle,
Iudge you which see me trauise in the same,
And howe I was inforst to final foyle,
Not nowe, for nowe although it dooth me shame,
I wyll declare, howe I was fryde with flame.
For Ambrose he and Vter Pendragon,
My Castle brent, me and my men eche one.

Then Ambrose with his brothers Crowne was crownde,
Which I from hym had reafte agaynst al right.
So nowe you see vppon what slipperie grounde
They stand, which doo extol them selues by might,
Their wandring feete doo walke as in the night,
Their stumbling steppes their giltie mindes doo feare,
They dayly see the blocke of bale appeare.

With scalding sighes they doo them selues consume,
For feare to fal dooth yeelde none other fruite,
They rage with wrath, they dayly frette and fume,
Ruthful reuenge them alwayes hath in suite,
And right in time makes might both mum and mute:
For that which might by secret meanes hath wrought,
By tracte of tyme to open shewe is brought.

Vsurpers then doo reape their right rewarde,
The foyle once felt, they feele howe vile and vayne
It is, to be too high degrees preferde
By lawlesse meanes: they finde what pinching payne,
Amidst the mindes of such men doo remayne,
They alwayes throngde with cruel thretting thrall,
Doo feede vppon none other foode but Gall.

A proofe whereof a plat a patterne playne,
The ruthful race I Vortiger haue runne,
Disciphers so, that man may see howe vayne
A thing it is his former Fate to shunne,
Honour obteynde (alas) what haue we wonne?
A hidious heape of cruel carking care,
Which to consume mans life dooth neuer spare.