The certain seat and bow’r of wand’ring Brute:
Thou realm, which aye I reverence as my saint,
Thou stately Britain, th’ ancient type of Troy,
Bear with my forced wrongs! I am not he,
That willing would impeach thy peace with wars!
Lo, here both far and wide I conqueror stand:
Arthur, each where thine own, thy liege, thy king.
Condemn not mine attempts; he, only he,
Is sole in fault that makes me thus thy foe.
Here I renounce all leagues and treats of truce: