EUAR. Archigenes, come nearer, for thou art

A stranger yet, although thou be my son.

The character is plain, it is the same

Eubulus writ to me: ye heavenly powers,

Give me a heart that may be large enough

T' express my joy for these and thanks to you.

THYR. My royal father--for I am instructed

To call you so--if I have done amiss

In hasting to this match, I ask your pardon.

SYL. And I for daring to aspire so high

Without your leave.

EUAR. Rise both; you have my blessing.

But who are these?

THYR. This is the shepherd, sir,

Who took me up first, whom till now I call'd

Father, and he deserv'd it for his care.

EUAR. Eubulus, this is he; Montanus, is it not?

EUB. He is deliver'd to me for the shepherd,

Of whom your majesty may, if you please,

Be well-inform'd of all those passages

I left untold.

EUAR. Some other time we'll hear them:

Let him be well rewarded.

THYR. Sir, these shepherds

Are come to entertain your majesty

With their devices, as their custom is;

In which sometimes, until my fortune chang'd,

I bore a part.

EUAR. Let them be feasted all,

And study something new to celebrate

These nuptials, which I will have proclaim'd

Throughout my kingdom: and, Eubulus, see

That everything be fitted for their honour.

Come, let us to the temple, that we may

With holy sacrifice appease the gods,

Whose great decrees, though we did strive to hinder,

Yet are they now fulfill'd. It is in vain

T' oppose the Fates, whose laws do all constrain.

THE EPILOGUE TO THE KING AND QUEEN.

To you, most royal pair, whose lives have brought

Virtue in fashion, and the world have taught,

That chaste innocuous sports become the stage,

No less than civil manners do the age,

We dedicate this piece, but yet with fears

To have displeas'd so chaste, so tender ears;

Which if you free us from, we'll call this play

No more the Shepherds', but our Holiday.

FUIMUS TROES: THE TRUE TROJANS

_EDITION._

_Fvimvs Troes, Æneid. 2. The Trve Troianes, Being a Story

of the Britaines valour at the Romanes first invasion:_

_Publikely represented by the Gentlemen Students of

Magdalen Colledge in Oxford._

_Quis Martem tunicâ tectum adamantinâ_

_Dignè scripserit?_

_London, Printed by I. L. for Robert Allott, and are to be sold

at the signe of the Beare in Pauls-Churchyard, 1633. 4o._

INTRODUCTION

Dr Jasper Fisher, a gentleman's son, born in Bedfordshire, and entered

a Commoner of Magdalen Hall in 1607, is declared by Wood[249] to be

the author of this play. He afterwards took the degrees in arts,

became divinity or philosophy reader of Magdalen College; rector of

Wilden, Bedfordshire about 1631, and at length doctor of divinity.

Besides this play he published some sermons. Oldys in his MSS. notes

says he was blind. At what time he died is unknown. The title of this

performance does not inform us when it was acted, nor is it spoken of

as a republication.[250] Langbaine mentions no other edition but that

of 1633, [nor is any other known, or believed to exist].

FOOTNOTES:

[249] "Ath. Oxon.," i. 619.

[250] All the acts close with songs by the Druids; and at the end of

Act iii. is one in the Scottish dialect. Hence a conjecture has been

hazarded, either that the author was a Scotchman, or that the song was

introduced to please King James. If so, the play must have been written

and represented before 1625; but there is no evidence that James was

ever present when it was performed.--_Collier._

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

MERCURY. }

FUR. CAMILLUS. } Livius, lib. 5

BRENNUS. }

JULIUS CÆSAR. }

C. VOLUSENUS. }

Q. LABERIUS, _alias_ LABIENUS. }

Q. ATRIUS. }

COMIUS ATREBAS. }

CASSIBELANUS, _imperator Britannorum_. } Cæsar, Com. de

MANDUBRATIUS, _princeps Trinobantum_. } bell. Gall., lib

CINGETORIX, } } 4 et 5.

CARVILIUS, } _four petty kings_ }

TAXIMAGULUS, } _in Kent_. }

SEGONAX, } }

{LUD, { ANDROGEUS. }

{ _his sons_ { TENANTIUS. }

{CASSIBELANE. }

{NENNIUS. }

BELINUS, _a chief nobleman_. } Galfrid

HIRILDAS, _nephew to Cassibelane_. } Monumetensis

EULINUS, _nephew to Androgeus_. } lib. 4.

CRIDOUS, _king of Albania_. }

BRITAEL, _king of Demetia_. }

GUERTHED, _king of Ordovicia_. }

NAMES FEIGNED.

LANTONUS, } _two druids,_

HULACUS, } _or priests._

LANDORA, } _two ladies_

CORDELLA, } _mentioned._

ROLLANO, _a Belgic_.

_Chorus of five Bards or Poets-Laureate._

_Soldiers, Shipmen, Servants._

FUIMUS TROES: THE TRUE TROJANS.

MERCURY _conducting the ghosts of_ BRENNUS _and_

CAMILLUS[251] _in complete armour, and with swords_

_drawn._

MER. As in the vaults of this big-bellied earth

Are dungeons, whips and flames for wicked ghosts;

So fair Elysian fields, where spotless souls

Do bathe themselves in bliss.[252] Amongst the rest,[253]

Two pleasant groves by two sorts are possess'd:

One by true lovers crown'd with myrtle boughs,

Who hand-in-hand sing pæans of their joy:

Brave soldiers hold the second, clad in steel,

Whose glittering arms brighten those gloomy shades,

In lieu of starry lights. From hence I bring

A pair of martial imps,[254] by Jove's decree,

As sticklers[255] in their nation's enmity.

Furious Camillus, and, thou Briton bold,

Great Brennus, sheathe your conquering blades. In vain

You threaten death; for ghosts may not be slain.

BREN. From the unbounded ocean and cold climes,

Where Charles his wain[256] circles the Northern Pole,

I first led out great swarms of shaggy Gauls

And big-bon'd Britons. The white-pated Alps,

Where snow and winter dwell, did bow their necks

To our victorious feet: Rome, proudest Rome,

We cloth'd in scarlet of patrician blood,

And 'bout your Capitol pranc'd our vaunting steeds,

Defended more by geese,[257] than by your gods.

CAM. But I cut short your fury, and my sword

Redeem'd the city, making your huge trunks

To fat our crows, and dung our Latian fields.

I turn'd your torrent to another coast;

And what you quickly won, you sooner lost.

MER. Leave these weak brawlings. Now swift time hath spent

A Pylian age and more, since you two breath'd,

Mirrors of Briton and of Roman valour.

Lo, now the black imperial bird doth clasp

Under her wings the continent; and Mars,

Trampling down nations with his brazen wheels,

Fights for his nephews, and hath once more made

Britons and Romans meet. To view these deeds

I, Hermes, bring you to this upper sky;

Where you may wander, and with ghastly looks

Incite your countrymen, when night and sleep

Conquer the eyes: when weary bodies rest,

And senses cease,[258] be furies in their breast.

Never two nations better match'd; for Jove

Loves both alike. Whence then these armed bands?

Mavors[259] for Rome, Neptune for Albion stands.

BREN. Then let war ope his jaws as wide as hell,

And fright young babes; my country-folk, more stern,

Can outlook Gorgon. Let the Fates transpos'd

Hang beaten flags up in the victor's land:

Full dearly will each pace of ground be sold,

Which rated is at dearest blood, not gold.

What! are their ruin'd fanes, demolish'd walls,

So soon forgot? Doth Allia yet run clear?

Or can three hundred summers slake their fear?

CAM. Arise, thou Julian star, whose angry beams

Be heralds to the North of war and death.

Let those black calends be reveng'd; those ghosts,

Whose mangled sheaths, depriv'd of funeral rites,

Made the six hills promise a Cadmus' crop--

Be expiated with a fiery deluge.

Jove rules the spheres, Rome all the world beside;

And shall this little corner be denied?

MER. Bandy no more these private frowns; but haste,

Fly to your parties, and enrage their minds:

Till, at the period of these broils, I call

And back reduce you[260] to grim Pluto's hall [_Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[251] Brennus, king or leader of the Transalpine Gauls. He won the

battle of Allia against the Romans, and in consequence of it made

himself master of their city, which he entered about the year 363 from

its foundation, and committed every excess which wanton barbarity could

dictate. After continuing there some time, he was defeated and driven

out of it by Camillus, then an exile, but created dictator on the

occasion.

[252] So Milton, in "Comus," l. 811--

"One sip of this

Will _bathe the drooping spirits in delight_

_Beyond the bliss of dreams_."

The thought is much older than Milton, and the following from Chaucer

is still more apposite--

"His herte was _bathed in a bath of bliss_."

--"Wife of Bath's Tale."

Chaucer has nearly the same expression in his "Book of Troilus," l. 1,

st. 4--

"But ye lovers that _bathen in gladnesse_."

--_Collier._

[253] See Virgil's "Æneid," bk. vi.

[254] "Impyn," says Mr Steevens (note to the "Second Part of Henry

IV.," act v. sc. 5), is a Welsh word, and primitively signifies

a sprout, a sucker; and by the writers of this period is almost

perpetually used for progeny. So in Chaloner's translation of Erasmus's

"Praise of Folie," 1549, sig. D 3: "Yet truly more pernicious was he to

the common-weale, in leavying so ungracious an _ympe_ as Commodus was,"

&c.

[255] A _stickler_ was a sidesman to a fencer, so called because he

carried a _stick_, wherewith to part the combatants. See Note to "The

Ordinary," [xii. 275.]

[256] Seven stars in the constellation Ursa Minor.

[257] After Brennus had taken the city of Rome, he besieged the

Capitol, and in the night attempted to scale the ramparts. The attempt

was rendered abortive by the cackling of some geese consecrated to

Juno, which were kept as sacred birds, and which being heard, gave an

alarm to the garrison in time enough to save the place they defended.

[258] Generally speaking, this play was more accurately reprinted by

Mr Reed than any other in the whole collection. Nevertheless, several

errors crept in some of them from following the blunders of the old

copy, although that is not so incorrect as many others of the same

date. In a few instances the punctuation was neglected or mistaken, and

such was the case with the passage in the text. It is evident that the

ghosts of Camillus are to "incite their countrymen when night and sleep

conquer the eyes," from scene 7 of act ii., where they work alternately

upon Nennius and Cæsar, who are in "night-robes." Till now the wrong

pointing obscured the sense. See also act v., scene 2.--_Collier._

[259] _i.e._, Mars.

ACT I., SCENE I.

DUKE NENNIUS[261] _alone_.

NEN. Methinks I hear Bellona's dreadful voice

Redoubled from the concave shores of Gaul:

Methinks I hear their neighing steads, the groans

Of complimental souls taking their leave:

And all the dim and clamorous route which sounds

When falling kingdoms crack in fatal flames.

Die, Belgics,[262] die like men! Free minds need have

Nought but the ground they fight on for their grave:

And we are next. Think ye the smoky mist

Of sun-boil'd seas can stop the eagle's eye?[263]

Or can our wat'ry walls keep dangers out,

Which fly aloft, that thus we snorting lie,

Feeding imposthum'd humours, to be lanc'd

By some outlandish surgeon?

As they are now, whose flaming towns (like beacons)

Give us fair warning, and e'en gild our spires,

Whilst merrily we warm us at their fires.

Yet we are next: who, charm'd with peace and sloth,

Dream golden dreams. Go, warlike Britain, go,

For olive-bough exchange thy hazel-bow:

Hang up thy rusty helmet, that the bee

May have a hive, or spider find a loom:

Instead of soldiers' fare and lodging hard

(The bare ground being their bed and table), lie

Smother'd in down, melting in luxury:

Instead of bellowing drum[264] and cheerful flute,

Be lull'd in lady's lap with amorous lute.

But as for Nennius, know, I scorn this calm:

The ruddy planet at my birth bore sway,

(Sanguine) adust my humour; and wild-fire

(My ruling element), blood and rage, and choler,

Make up the temper of a captain's valour. [_Exit._

SCENE II.

JULIUS CÆSAR, COMIUS VOLUSENUS, LABERIUS;

_Soldiers, with ensign, a two-necked eagle displayed_

_sable, drum, ancient, trumpet. A flourish._

CÆS. Welcome thus far, partners of weal and woe,

Welcome, brave bloods! Now may our weapons sleep,

Since Ariovist in cock-boat basely flies;[265]

Vast Germany stands trembling at our bridge,[266]

And Gaul lies bleeding in her mother's lap.

Once the Pellæan duke did eastward march,[267]

To rouse the drowsy sun, before he rose,

Adorn'd with Indian rubies: but the main

Bade him retire. He was my type. This day

We stand on Nature's western brink; beyond,

Nothing but sea and sky. Here is _nil ultra_.

Democritus, make good thy fancy; give me

More worlds to conquer, which may be both seen

And won together. But methinks I ken

A whitish cloud kissing the waves, or else

Some chalky rocks surmount the barking flood.

Comius, your knowledge can correct our eyes.

COM. It is the Britain shore, which ten leagues hence

Displays her shining cliffs unto your sight.

CÆS. I'll hit the white.[268] That sea-mark for our ships

Invites destruction, and gives to our eye

A treacherous beck. Dare but resist, your shore

Shall paint her pale face with red crimson gore.

COM. Thus much I know, great Cæsar--that they lent

Their secret aid unto the neighbour Gauls;

Fostering their fugitives with friendly care:

Which made your victory fly with slower wing.

CÆS. That's cause enough. They shall not henceforth range

Abroad for war; we'll bring him to their doors.

His ugly idol shall displace their gods,

Their dear Penates, and in desolate streets

Raise trophies high of barbarous bones, whose stench

May poison all the rest. I long to stride

This Hellespont, or bridge it with a navy,

Disclosing to our empire unknown lands,

Until the arctic star for zenith stands.

LAB. Then raise the camp, and strike a dreadful march,

And unawares pour vengeance on their heads.

Be like the winged bolt of angry Jove,

Or chiding torrent, whose late-risen stream

From mountains' bended top runs raging down,

Deflow'ring all the virgin dales.

CÆS. First, let's advise; for soon to ruin come

Rash weapons, which lack counsel grave at home.

LAB. What need consulting where the cause is plain?

CÆS. The likeliest cause without regard proves vain.

LAB. Provide for battle, but of truce no word.

CÆS. Where peace is first refus'd, should come the sword.

LAB. But 'tis unlike their self-presuming might

Will curbed be with terms of civil right.

CÆS. 'Tis true: yet so we stop the people's cry,

When we propose, and they do peace deny.

We'll therefore wise embassadors despatch,

Parents of love, the harbingers of leagues;

Men that may speak with mildness mix'd with courage,

Having quick feet, broad eyes, short tongues, long ears,

To warn the British court.

And further view the ports, fathom the seas,

Learn their complotments, where invasion may

Be soonest entertain'd. All this shall lie

On Volusene, a legate and a spy.

VOL. My care and quickness shall deserve this kindness.

Meantime unite, and range your scatter'd troops:

Embark your legions at the Iccian shore,

And teach Erynnis[269] swim, which crawl'd before. [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

CASSIBELANUS, ANDROGEUS, TENANTIUS,

BELINUS, _Attendants_.

CAS. Although the people's voice constrains me hold

This regal staff, whose massy weight would bruise

Your age and pleasures; yet this, nephews, know,

Your trouble less, your honour is the same,

As if you wore the diadem of this isle.

Meanwhile, Androgeus, hold unto your use

Our lady-city Troynovant,[270] and all

The toll and tribute of delicious Kent;

Of which each quarter can maintain a king.

Have you, Tenantius, Cornwall's dukedom large,

Both rich and strong in metals and in men.

I must to Verulam's fenc'd town repair,

And as protector for the whole take care.

AND. My heart agrees. Henceforth, ye sovereign cares,

State mysteries, false graces, jealous fears,

The linings of a crown, forsake my brain:

These territories neither are too wide

To trouble my content, nor yet too narrow

To feed a princely train.

TEN. All thanks I render: your will shall guide ours;

With treble-twisted love we'll strive to make

One soul inform three bodies, keeping still

The same affections both in good and ill.

Now am I for a hunting-match. Yon thickets

Shelter a boar, which spoil's the ploughman's hope:

Whose jaws with double sword, whose back is arm'd

With bristled pikes; whose fume inflames the air,

And foam besnows the trampled corn. This beast

I long to see come smoking to a feast. [_Exit_ TENANTIUS.

BEL. Here comes my Belgic friend, Landora's servant.

What news, Rollano, that thy feet so strive

To have precedence of each other? Speak!

I read disturbed passions on thy brow.

ROL. My trembling heart quivers upon my tongue,

That scarce I can with broken sounds vent forth

These sad, strange, sudden, dreary, dismal news.

A merchant's ship arriv'd tells how the Roman,

Having run Gaul quite through with bloody arms,

Prepares for you: his navy, rigg'd in bay,

Only expects a gale. Farther, they say

A pinnace landed from him brings command

Either to lose your freedom or your land.

CAS. And dares proud Cæsar back our untam'd surges?

Dreads he not our sea-monsters, whose wild shapes

Their theatres ne'er yet in picture saw?

Come, sirs, to arms! to arms! Let speedy posts

Summon our petty kings, and muster up

Our valorous nations from the north and west.

Androgeus, haste you to the Scots and Picts,

Two names which now Albania's kingdom share:

Entreat their aid, if not for love, yet fear!

For new foes should imprint swift-equal fear

Through all the arteries of this our isle.

Belinus, thy authority must rouse

The vulgar troops within thy[271] special charge.

Fire [all] the beacons, strike alarums loud:

Raise all the country 'gainst this common foe.

We'll soon confront him in his full career:

This news more moves my choler than my fear. [_Exeunt._

ROLLANO _alone_.

ROL. I am by birth a Belgic, whence I fled

To Germany for fear of Roman arms:

But when their bridge bridled the stately Rhine,

I soon return'd, and thought to hide my head

In this soft halcyon's nest, this Britain isle.

And now, behold, Mars is a-nursing here,

And 'gins to speak aloud.

Is no nook safe from Rome? Do they still haunt me?

Some peaceful god transport me through the air,

Beyond cold Thule[272] or the sun's bedchamber,

Where only swine or goats do live and reign.

Yet these may fight. Place me where quiet peace

Hushes all storms; where sleep and silence dwell,

Where never man nor beast did wrong the soil,

Or crop the first-fruits, or made so much noise

As with their breath. But, foolish thoughts, adieu:

Now catch I must, or stand or fall with you. [_Exit._

SCENE IV.

EULINUS, HIRILDAS.

EUL. The court a wardrobe is of living shapes:

And ladies are the tissue-spangled suits,

Which Nature wears on festival high days.

The Court a spring: each madam is a rose.

The Court is heaven, fair ladies are the stars.[273]

HIR. Ay, falling stars.

EUL. False echo, don't blaspheme that glorious sex,

Whose beauteous rays can strike rash gazers blind.

HIR. Love should be blind.

EUL. Pray leave this cynic humour, whilst I sigh

My mistress' praise. Her beauty's past compare:

O, would she were more kind, or not so fair!

Her modest smiles both curb and kindle love.

The court is dark without her: when she rises,

The morning is her handmaid, strewing roses.

About love's hemisphere. The lamps above

Eclipse themselves for shame to see her eyes,

Outshine their chrysolites, and more bless the skies

Than they the earth.

HIR. Give me her name.

EUL. Her body is a crystal cage, whose pure

Transparent mould, not of gross elements

Compacted, but th' extracted quintessence

Of sweetest forms distill'd; whose graces bright

Do live immur'd, but not exempt from sight.

HIR. I prythee, speak her [name].

EUL. Her model is beyond all poets' brains

And painters' pencils: all the lively nymphs,

Syrens, and Dryads are but kitchen-maids,

If you compare. To frame the like Pandore,[274]

The gods repine, and nature would grow poor.

HIR. By love, who is't? hath she no mortal name?

EUL. For here you find great Juno's stately front,

Pallas' grey eye, Venus her dimpled chin,

Aurora's rosy fingers, the small waist

Of Ceres' daughter, and Medusa's hair,

Before it hiss'd.

HIR. O love, as deaf as thou art blind! Good Eulinus,

Call home thy soul, and tell thy mistress' name.

EUL. O strange! what, ignorant still! when as so plainly

These attributes describe her? Why, she is

A rhapsody of goddesses; the elixir

Of all their several perfections. She is

(Now bless your ears!) by mortals call'd Landora.

HIR. What! Landora, the Trinobantic lady?

How grow your hopes? what metal is her breast?

EUL. All steel and adamant. 'Tis beauty's pride to stain

Her lily white with blood of lovers slain,

Their groans make music, and their scalding sighs

Raise a perfume, and vulture-like she gnaws

Their bleeding hearts. No gifts, no learned flattery,

No stratagems, can work Landora's battery.

As a tall rock maintains majestic state,

Though Boreas gallop on the tottering seas,

And tilting split his froth out, spurging waves

Upon his surly breast; so she resists,

And all my projects on her cruel heart

Are but retorted to their author's smart.

HIR. Why, then, let scorn succeed thy love: and bravely

Conquer thyself, if thou wilt conquer her:

Stomachs with kindness cloy'd disdain must stir.

EUL. Most impious thoughts! O, let me rather perish,

And loving die, than living cease to love:

And when I faint, let her but hear my cry.

Ah me! there's none which truly loves, but I.

HIR. O ye cross darts of Cupid! this very lady,

This lady-wasp wooes me, as thou dost her,

With glances, jewels, bracelets of her hair,

Lascivious banquets and most eloquent eyes:

All which my heart misconstrues as immodest,

It being pointed for another pole.

But hence learn courage, coz. Why stand you dumb?

Women are women, and may be o'ercome.

EUL. Your words are earwigs to my vexed brain;

Like henbane juice or aconite diffus'd,

They strike me senseless.

My kinsman and Hirildas, to my end;

But I'll ne'er call you councillor or friend.

Adieu.

HIR. Stay, stay. For now I mean with gentler breath[275]

To waft you to your happy landing-place.

Seeing this crocodile pursues me flying,

Flies you pursuing, we'll catch her by a trick.

With promise feign'd I'll 'point a Cupid's stage,

But in the night and secret, and disguis'd,

Where thou, which art myself, shalt act my part.

In Venus' games all cosening goes for art.

EUL. Bless'd be these means, and happy the success!

Now 'gin I rear my crest above the moon.

And in those gilded books read lectures of

The feminine sex. There moves Cassiope,

Whose garments shine with thirteen precious stones,

Types of as many virtues: then her daughter,

Whose beauty without Perseus would have tam'd

The monstrous fish, glides with a starry crown:

Then just Astrea kembs her golden hair:

And my Landora can become the skies

As well as they. O, how my joys do swell!

He mounted not more proud whose burning throne

Kindled the cedar-tops, and quaff'd whole fountains,

Fly then, ye winged hours, as swift as thought

Or my desires: let day's bright waggoner

Fall headlong, and lie buried in the deep,

And (dormouse-like) Alcides night outsleep:

Good Tethys, quench his beams, that he ne'er rise

To scorch the Moors, to suck up honey-dews,

Or to betray my person.

But prythee, tell what mistress you adore?

HIR. The kind Cordelia, loving and belov'd:

Only some jar of late about a favour

Made me inveigh 'gainst women. Come away,

Our plots desire the night, not babbling day.

EUL. We must give way: here come our reverend bards

To sing in synod, as their custom is

With former chance comparing present deeds. [_Exeunt._

SCENE V.

_Chorus of five Bards-Laureate, four Voices, and a_

_Harper; attired._

1. _Song._

1. _At the spring_

_Birds do sing:_

_Now with high,_

_Then low cry._

_Flat, acute;_

_And salute,_

_The sun, born_

_Every morn._

ALL. _He's no bard that cannot sing_

_The praises of the flow'ry spring._

2. _Flora queen,_

_All in green,_

_Doth delight_

_To paint white,_

_And to spread_

_Cruel red_

_With a blue,_

_Colour true._

ALL. _He's no bard, &c._

3. _Woods renew_

_Hunter's hue._

_Shepherd's grey_

_Crown'd with bay,_

_With his pipe_

_Care doth wipe,_

_Till he dream_

_By the stream._

ALL. _He's no bard, &c._

4. _Faithful loves,_

_Turtle-doves,_

_Sit and bill_

_On a hill._

_Country swains_

_On the plains_

_Run and leap,_

_Turn and skip._

ALL. _He's no bard, &c._

5. _Pan doth play_

_Care away._

_Fairies small,_

_Two foot tall,_

_With caps red_

_On their head,_

_Dance around_

_On the ground._

ALL. _He's no bard, &c._

6. _Phillis bright,_

_Cloth'd in white,_

_With neck fair,_

_Yellow hair,_

_Rocks doth move_

_With her love,_

_And make mild_

_Tigers wild._

ALL. _He's no bard that cannot sing_

_The praises of the flow'ry spring._

_2d Song._

_Thus spend we time in laughter,_

_While peace and spring do smile;_

_But I hear a sound of slaughter_

_Draw nearer to our isle._

_Leave then your wonted prattle,_

_The oaten reed forbear;_

_For I hear a sound of battle,_

_And trumpets tear the air._

_Let bagpipes die for want of wind,_

_Let crowd[276] and harp be dumb:_

_Let little tabor come behind:_

_For I hear the dreadful drum._

_Let no birds sing, no lambkins dance,_

_No fountains murmuring go:_

_Let shepherd's crook be made a lance._

_For the martial horns do blow._ [_Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[260] Bring you back. _Reduco_, Lat.--_Steevens._

[261] _Dux_ Nennius. The leaders of armies are on this account styled

Dukes by many of our ancient English translators; as Duke Æneas, Duke

Hannibal, &c.--_Steevens._

[262] [Natives of Gallia Belgica, a province comprising the Duchy of

Treves, part of Luxembourg, and the departments of the Meuse, Moselle,

Meurthe, and Vosges. Hazlitt's "Classical Gazetteer," 1851, p. 71.]

[263] The same turn of thought occurs in Mr Gray's celebrated ode

called "The Bard"--

"Think'st thou yon sanguine cloud,

Raised by thy breath, has quench'd the orb of day?"

--_Steevens._

[264] Imitated from the first speech of Gloster in "King Richard III."

[265] "In bis fuit Ariovistus, qui naviculam deligatam ad ripam nactus

ea profugit."--Cæsar "De Bello Gallico," lib. i. s. 53.

[266] See Cæsar "De Bello Gallico," lib, iv., s. 17, for an account of

this bridge over the Rhine.

[267] Alexander the Great. Pella was a city of Macedon, where he was

born.

[268] A term in archery.

[269] Erynnis is the common name of the sister Furies, but is

frequently used by the poets for mischief in general.--_Steevens._

[270] The ancient name of London.

[271] [Old copy, _my_.]

[272] There is no place oftener mentioned by the ancients than _Thule_,

nor any one about the situation of which there has been a greater

variety of opinions. Sir Robert Sibbald, in the additions to Camden,

has given a discourse concerning the _Thule_ of the ancients, in which

the sentiments of different writers on this subject are considered, and

many of them refuted. Camden supposes _Shetland_ to be the place so

often distinguished by the name of _Thule_; and Bishop Gibson appears

to agree with him in the conjecture. See Camden's "Britannia." vol. ii.

p. 411, edit. 1772.

[273] So in Shakespeare's "King Henry VIII."--

"These are _stars_ indeed,

And sometimes _falling ones_."

--_Steevens._

[274] _Pandora_ was a woman formed by Vulcan, with the joint

contribution of all the gods, every one of whom bestowed on her some

grace or beauty.--_Steevens._

[275] In the old copy the four last letters of _breath_ have dropped

out by accident, but they are no doubt rightly restored.--_Collier._

ACT II, SCENE I.

CASSIBELANUS, CRIDOUS, BRITAEL, GUERTHED,

NENNIUS, BELINUS, EULINUS. VOLUSENUS

_following_.

CAS. Heavens favour Cridous, fair Albania's king:

And Britael, deck'd with the Demetian crown:

The same to famous Guerthed, whose command

Embraces woody Ordovic's black hills.

Legate, you may your message now declare.

VOL. By me great Cæsar greets the Briton state:

This letter speaks the rest.

CAS. Then read the rest.

VOLUSENUS _reads_.

"Cæsar, Proconsul of Gallia, to Cassibelane, King of Britain.

Since Romulus' race by will of Jove

Have stretch'd their empire wide

From Danube's banks (by Tigris swift)

Unto Mount Atlas' side:

And provinces and nations strong

With homage due obey;

We wish that you, hid in the sea,

Do likewise tribute pay.

Submitting all unto our wills

For rashly aiding Gaul:

And noble lads for hostages

Make ready at our call.

These granted may our friendship gain;

Denied shall work your woe.

Now take your choice, whether you'd find

Rome as a friend or foe."

CAS. Bold mandates are unwelcome to free princes.

Legate, withdraw; you shall be soon despatch'd.

[_Exit_ VOLUSENUS.

CRI. He writes more like a victor than a foe;

Whose greatness, risen from subdued nations,

Is fasten'd only with fear's slippery knot.

Nor can they fight so fierce for wealth or fame,

As we for native liberty. With answer rough

Bid him defiance. So thinks Cridous.

GUER. Guerthed maintains the same, and on their flesh

I'll write my answer in red characters.

BRI. Thou ravenous wolf, imperious monster, Rome,

Seven-headed Hydra, know, we scorn thy threats:

We can oppose thy hills with mounts as high,

And scourge usurpers with like cruelty.

And thus thinks Britael.

EUL. Let Cæsar come: our land doth rust with ease,

And wants an object, whose resisting power

May strike out valorous flashes from her veins.

So shadows give a picture life: so flames

Grow brighter by a fanning blast. Nor think

I am a courtier and no warrior born,

Nor love object; for well my poet says:[277]

_Militat omnis amans_, each lover is a soldier:

I can join Cupid's bow and Mars his lance.

A pewter-coat fits me as well as silk.

It grieves me see our martial spirits trace

The idle streets, while weapons by their side

Dangle and lash their backs, as 'twere to upbraid

Their needless use. Nor is it glory small

They set upon us last, when their proud arms

Fathom the land and seas, and reach both poles.

On, then; so great a foe, so good a cause,

Shall make our name more famous. So thinks Eulinus.

CAS. Then, friends and princes, on this blade take oath,[278]

First to your country to revenge her wrongs;

And next to me, as general, to be led

With unity and courage. [_They kiss the sword._

ALL. The gods bless Britain and Cassibelane.

NEN. Now, royal friends, the heirs of mighty Brute,

You see what storm hangs hovering o'er this land,

Ready to pour down cataclysms[279] of blood:

Let ancient glory then inflame your hearts.

Beyond the craggy hills of grim-fac'd Death,

Bright Honour keeps triumphant court, and deeds

Of martial men live there in marble rolls.

Death is but Charon to the fortunate isles;

Porter to Fame.

What though the Roman, arm'd with foreign spoil,

Behind him lead the conquer'd world, and hope

To sink our island with his army's weight:

Yet we have gods and men and horse to fight,

And we can bravely die. But our just cause,

Your forward loves, and all our people edg'd

With Dardan[280] spirit and the powerful name

Of country, bid us hope for victory.

We have a world within ourselves, whose breast

No foreigner hath unrevenged press'd

These thousand years. Though Rhine and Rhone can serve,

And envy Thames his never captive stream,

Yet maugre all, if we ourselves are true,

We may despise what all the earth can do.[281]

CAS. Let's then dismiss the legate with a frown:

And draw our forces t'ward the sea, to join

With the four kings of Kent, and so affront[282]

His first arrival. But, before all, let

Our priests and Druids, in their hallow'd groves,

Propitiate the gods, and scan events

By their mysterious arts. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

EULINUS, HIRILDAS, ROLLANO.

HIR. Well, so: your tongue's your own, though drunk or angry.

ROL. Umh! [_Seals his mouth._

HIR. Speak not a word, upon your life: be dumb.

ROL. Umh! [_Gives him money._

HIR. I'll winch up thy estate. Be Harpocrates.[283]

ROL. Umh!

HIR. Thy fortunes shall be double-gilt. Be midnight.

ROL. Umh!

HIR. An excellent instrument, to be the bawd

To his dear lady! But, Rollano, hark;

What words, what looks did give my letter welcome?

ROL. Umh!

HIR. Nay, now thy silence is antedated: speak.

ROL. Umh!

HIR. I give thee leave, I say. Speak, be not foolish.

ROL. Then, with your leave, she us'd, upon receipt,

No words, but silent joy purpl'd her face;

And seeing your name, straight clapp'd it to her heart,

To print there a new copy; as she'd say,

The words went by her eyes too long a way.

HIR. You told her my conditions, and my oath

Of silence, and that only you be used?

ROL. All, sir.

HIR. And that this night----

ROL. Ay, sir.

HIR. You guard the door----

ROL. Ay, sir.

HIR. But I ne'er mean to come.

ROL. No, sir? O wretch!

Shall I deceive, when she remains so true?

HIR. No. Thou shalt be true, and she remain deceiv'd.

I'll lie, and yet I will not lie. My friend

Eulinus, in my shape, shall climb her bed,

This is the point. You'll promise all your aid?

ROL. Your servant to command, and then reward.

EUL. We'll draw thee, meteor-like, by our warm favour,

Unto the roof and ceiling of the court:

We'll raise thee (hold but fast) on fortune's ladder.

[_Exit_ ROLLANO.

This fellow is a medley of most lewd

And vicious qualities: a braggart, yet a coward;

A knave, and yet a slave: true to all villany,

But false to goodness. Yet now I love him,

Because he stands just in the way of love.

HIR. Coz, I commend you to the Cyprian queen,

Whilst I attend Diana in the forest:

My kinsman Mandubrace and I must try

Our greyhounds' speed after a lightfoot hare.

[_Exit_ HIRILDAS.

EUL. O love! whose nerves unite in equal bonds

This massy frame! thou cement of the world!

By which the orbs and elements agree,

By which all living creatures joy to be,

And dying live in their posterity.

Thy holy raptures warm each noble breast,

Sweetly inspiring more soul. Thy delight

Surpasses melody, nectar, and all pleasures

Of Tempe, and of Tempe's eldest sister,

Elysium: a banquet of all the senses!

By thy commanding power gods into beasts,

And men to gods, are chang'd, as poets say;

When sympathy rules, all like what they obey.

But love triumphs when man and woman meet

In full affection; double vows then fill

His sacred shrine. Yet this to me denied

More whets my passion: mutual love grows cold.

Venus, be thou propitious to my wiles,

And laugh at lovers' perjuries and guiles. [_Exit._

SCENE III.

LANTONUS, HULACUS, _two Druids, in long robes;_

_hats like pyramids, branches of misletoe._

LAN. That souls immortal are, I easily grant;

Their future state distinguish'd--joy or pain,

According to the merits of this life.

But then, I rather think, being free from prison

And bodily contagion, they subsist

In places fit for immaterial spirits;

Are not transfus'd from men to beasts, from beasts

To men again--wheel'd round about by change.

HUL. And were it not more cruel to turn out

Poor naked souls stripp'd of warm flesh (like land-lords),

Bidding them wander? then forsooth imagine

Some unknown cave or coast, whither all the myriads

Of souls deceas'd are shipp'd[284] and thrust together.

Nay, reason rather says, as at one moment

Some die, and some are born, so may their ghosts

Without more cost serve the succeeding age:

For (sure) they don't wear to be cast aside,

But enter straight less or more noble bodies,

According to desert of former deeds:

The valiant into lions; coward minds

Into weak hares; th' ambitious into eagles

Soaring aloft; but the perverse and peevish

Are next indeniz'd[285] into wrinkled apes,

Each vice and virtue wearing seemly shapes.

LAN. So you debase the gods' most lively image.

The human soul, and rank it with mere brutes,

Whose life, of reason void, ends with their sense.

_Enter_ BELINUS.

BEL. Hail to heaven's privy councillors! The king

Desires your judgment of these troublesome times.

LAN. The gods foretold these mischiefs long ago.

In Eldell's reign the earth and sky were fill'd

With prodigies, strange sights, and hellish shapes:

Sometimes two hosts with fiery lances met,

Armour and horse being heard amid the clouds:

With streamers red now march these airy warriors,

And then a sable hearse-cloth wraps up all;

And bloody drops speckled the grass, as falling

From their deep-wounded limbs:

Whilst staring comets[286] shook their flaming hair.

Thus all our wars were acted first on high,

And we taught what to look for.

HUL. Nature turns stepdame to her brood, and dams

Deny their monstrous issue. Saturn, join'd

In dismal league with Mars, portends some change.

Late in a grove, by night, a voice was heard

To cry aloud, _Take heed: more Trojans come!_

What may be known or done, we'll search, and help

With all religious care.

BEL. The king and army do expect as much:

That powers divine, perfum'd with odours sweet,

And feasted with the fat of bulls and rams,

Be pleas'd to bless their plots.

LAN. All rites and orisons due shall be perform'd:

Chiefly night's empress fourfold honour craves,

Mighty in heaven and hell, in woods and waves. [_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.

CÆSAR, VOLUSENUS, LABERIUS, _Soldiers_.

CÆS. What land, what people, and what answer, show.

VOL. We saw a paradise, whose bosom teems

With silver ore, whose seas are paved with pearl,

The meadows richly spread with Flora's tapestry;

The fields even wonder at their harvest-loads:

In crystal streams the scaly nations play,

Fring'd all along with trembling poplar trees.

The sun in summer, loth to leave their sight,

Forgets to sleep, and glancing makes no night.

Then, for the men, their stature's tall and big.

With blue-stain'd skins and long black dangling hair,

Promise a barbarous fierceness. They scarce know,

And much less fear our empire's might: but thus

Return'd defiance:--

"Cassibelane, King of Britain, to Julius Cæsar,[287]

Proconsul of Gallia.

Seeing your empire's great, why should it not suffice?

To covet more and more is tyrants' usual guise.

To lose what Jove you gave, you'd think it but unjust;

You have your answer then; defend this isle we must:

Which from the world cut off, and free from her first day,

Hath iron more for swords than gold for tribute's pay.

If amity and like fear succour to Gaul imparts,

Pardon, for this small brook could not divide our hearts.

We hope the gods will help, and fortune back our cause,

Who take arms but to keep our lives, our wives, and laws.

As you from Troy, so we our pedigree do claim:

Why should the branches fight when as the root's the same?

Despise us not because the sea and north us close:

Who can no farther go, must turn upon their foes.

Thus rudely we conclude: wage war, or change your will,

We hope to use a lance far better than a quill."

CÆS. I grieve to draw my sword against the stock

Of thrice-renowned Troy; but they are rude,

And must be frighted, ere we shall be friends.

Then let's aboard, and (hoisting sails) convey

Two legions over; for I long to view

This unknown land and all their fabulous rites:

And gather margarites[288] in my brazen cap.

Nature nor fates can valorous virtue stop.

LAB. Now Cæsar speaks like Cæsar: stronger and stronger,

Rise like a whirlwind; tear the mountain's pride;

Shake thy brass harness, whose loud clattering may

Waken Gradivus[289], where he sleeps on top

Of Hæmus, lull'd with Boreas' roaring base,

And put to flight this nation with the noise.

A fly is not an eagle's combatant.

Nor may a pigmy with a giant strive. [_Exeunt._

SCENE V.

CASSIBELANUS, BELINUS; COMIUS _following. Attendants._

COM. Health and good fortune on Cassibelane 'tend:

My love to you and Britain waft me hither

To make atonement, ere the Roman leader

Bring fire and spoil, and ruin on your heads.

No herb can ever grow where once he treads:

Nothing withstands his force. Be not too hardy,

But buy a friend with kindness, lest you buy

His anger dearly.

CAS. Comius, speak no more: he knows our mind.

COM. O, let not rage so blind your judgment, but

Prevent with ease the hazard of a war,

Of war, a word compos'd of thousand ills.

O, be not cruel to yourselves! I'll undertake

Without discredit to appease his wrath,

If you'll cashier your soldiers, and receive

Him like a guest, not like an enemy.

CAS. False-hearted Gaul, dar'st thou persuade e'en me

For to betray my people to the sword?

Now know I thou art sent for to solicit

Our princes to rebel, to learn our strength.

Lay hands on him! a spy!

ALL. A spy! a spy! a traitor and a spy!

[_They chain him._

COM. Is this the guerdon[290] of my loving care?

You break the laws of nature, nations, friends.

But look for due revenge at Cæsar's hand.

CAS. Expect in prison thy revenge. Away with him!

[_Exit_ COMIUS.

Belinus, have you muster'd up our forces?

BEL. Yes, if it please your highness.

CAS. And what are the particulars?

BEL. First Cridous leads from the Albanian realm,

Where Grampius' ridge divides the smiling dales,

Five thousand horse and twenty thousand foot,

Three thousand chariots mann'd. The Brigants come,

Deck'd with blue-painted shields, twelve thousand strong;

Under the conduct of Demetia's prince

March twice three thousand, armed with pelts[291] and glaves;[292]

Whom the Silures flank, eight thousand stout,

Greedy of fight, born soldiers the first day,

Whose grey-goose winged shafts ne'er flew in vain.

Then Guerthed, mounted on a shag-hair steed,

Full fifteen thousand brings, both horse and foot,

Of desperate Ordovicians, whose use is

To rush half-naked on their foes, enrag'd

With a rude noise of pipes.

Your province, bounded with that boiling stream[293]

Where Sabrine (lovely damsel) lost her breath,

And with curl'd-pated Humber, Neptune's heir,

Affords eight thousand cars, with hooks and scythes,

And fifty thousand expert men of war;

All brave Loëgrians, arm'd with pike and spear;

Each nation, being distinguish'd into troops,

With gaudy pennons flickering[294] in the air.

Besides these, Kent is up in arms to blunt

The edge of their first furious shock.

CAS. We'll now invite them to a martial feast,

Carving with falchions, and carousing healths

In their lives' moisture.

_Enter_ ANDROGEUS.

Well-returned, Androgeus:

Have you obtain'd, or is your suit denied?

AND. Our message told unto the Scots; their king

With willing sympathy levies a band,

Ten thousand footmen, whose strange appetites

Murder and then devour; and dare gnaw and suck

Their enemies' bones. Conducted thence, we saw

The Pictish court, and friendly entertain'd,

Receive eight thousand, whose most ugly shapes,

Painted like bears and wolves, and brinded tigers,

May kill and stonify without all weapons.

More aid they promise, if more need. These forces,

Led by Cadallan, hither march with speed.

CAS. 'Tis well, our kings consent for common good.

When all are join'd, we shall o'erspread the hills,

And soldiers, thicker than the sand on shore,

Hide all the landing coasts. Ere next daybreak,

The rocks shall answer what the drum doth speak. [_Exeunt._

SCENE VI.

HULACUS, LANTONUS, _Ministers_.

LAN. That ceremonious fear, which bends the heart

Of mortal creatures, and displays itself

In outward signs of true obedience,

As prayer, kneeling, sacrifice, and hymns,

Requires again help from immortal deities,

As promise, not as debt. We laud their names:

They give us blessings, and forgive our blames.

Thus gods and men do barter: what in piety

Ascends, as much descends again in pity;

A golden chain reaching from heaven to earth.

HUL. And now's the time, good brother, of their aid,

When danger's black face frowns upon our state.

Away, away, ye hearts and tongues profane!

Without devotion mysteries are vain.

[_They kneel, elevate hands thrice._

LAN. Draw near, ye heavenly powers,

Who dwell in starry bowers;

And ye, who in the deep

On mossy pillows sleep;

And ye who keep the centre,

Where never light did enter;

And ye whose habitations

Are still among the nations;

To see and hear our doings,

Our births, our wars, our wooings:

Behold our present grief,

Belief doth beg relief.

_Both going around say_--

By the vervain and lunary,

By fern-seed planetary,

By the dreadful misletoe,

Which doth on holy oak grow,

Draw near, draw near, draw near!

HUL. Help us, beset with danger,

And turn away your anger;

Help us, begirt with trouble,

And now your mercy double:

Help us, oppress'd with sorrow,

And fight for us to-morrow.

Let fire consume the foeman,

Let air infect the Roman:

Let seas entomb their fury,

Let gaping earth them bury:

Let fire, and air, and water,

And earth, conspire their slaughter.

BOTH. By the vervain, &c.

Help us, help us, help us!

LAN. We'll praise then your great pow'r,

Each month, each day, each hour;

And blaze in lasting story

Your honour and your glory.

High altars lost in vapour,

Young heifers free from labour,

White lambs for suck still crying,

Shall make your music dying.

The boys and girls around,

With honeysuckles crown'd;

The bards with harp and rhyming,

Green bays their brows entwining,

Sweet tune and sweeter ditty,

Shall chant your gracious pity.

BOTH. By the vervain, &c.

We'll praise, we'll praise, we'll praise!

[_The image of the moon: the shrine opens._

HUL. Fix, holy brother, now your prayers on one,

Britain's chief patroness: with humble cry

Let us invoke the moon's bright majesty. [_They kneel._

LAN. Thou queen of heaven, commandress of the deep,

Lady of lakes, regent of woods and deer,

A lamp dispelling irksome night, the source

Of generable moisture; at whose feet,

With garments blue and rushy garlands dress'd,

Wait twenty thousand Naiades: thy crescent

Brute elephants adore, and man doth feel

Thy force run through the zodiac of his limbs.

O thou first guide of Brutus to this isle,

Drive back these proud usurpers from this isle.

Whether the name of Cynthia's silver globe:

Or chaste Diana with a gilded quiver:

Or dread Proserpina, stern Dis his spouse:

Or soft Lucina, call'd in childbed throes,

Doth thee delight--rise with a glorious face,

Green drops of Nereus trickling down thy cheeks,

And with bright horns, united in full orb,

Toss high the seas, with billows beat the banks,

Conjure up Neptune and th' Æolian slaves;

Contract both night and winter in a storm,

That Romans lose their way, and sooner land

At sad Avernus, than at Albion's strand.

So may'st thou shun the dragon's head and tail!

So may Endymion snort on Latmian bed!

So may the fair game fall before thy bow:

Shed light on us, but lightning on our foe!

HUL. Methinks a gracious lustre spreads her brow,

And with a nod she ratifies our suit.

WITHIN. Come near, and take this oracle.

LAN. Behold, an oracle flies out from her shrine;

Which both the king and state shall see, before

We dare unfold it. [_Exeunt._

SCENE VII.

BRENNUS'S GHOST, NENNIUS _in night-robes_.

BREN. Follow me.

NEN. Follow! what means that word? who art? thy will?

BREN. Follow me, Nennius.

NEN. He names me: sure, it is some friend which speaks.

I'll follow thee, though't be through Stygian lakes.

BREN. 'Tis ancient Brennus calls, whose victories

Europe and Asia felt, and still record.

Dear Nennius, now's the time to steel thy courage;

Canst thou behold thy mother captive, then

Look back upon thy ancestors, enroll'd

Among the worthies who spread wide her fame?

First let thy eyeballs pour out poison'd beams,

And kill them with disdain, who dare but lift

Their hand against her. No: no consul must

Boast of her thraldom, and outbrave our walls.

I wonder that such impudent owls should gaze

Against the splendour of our Briton cliffs:

Play thou a second Brennus: let thy lance,

Like an Herculean club, two monsters tame,

Rome's avarice and pride so come life or death,

Let honour have the incense of thy breath. [_Exit._

NEN. Farewell, heroic soul; thou shalt not blush

At Nennius' deeds. The smallest drop of fame

Is cheap, if death and dangers may it buy.

Yet give thy words new vigour to my spirits,

And spur the Pegasus of my mounting thoughts.

I'll follow thee o'er piles of slaughter'd foes,

And knock at Pluto's gate. I come. Come life or death,

Honour, to thee I consecrate my breath. [_Exit._

CÆSAR, CAMILLUS'S GHOST _following_.

CAM. Julius, stay here; thy friend Camillus speaks.

CÆS. O thou preserver of our present race!

Our city's second founder! what dire fate

Troubles thy rest, that thou shouldst trouble mine?

CAM. Only to bid thee fight.

CÆS. Thou shalt not need.

CAM. And bid thee take a full revenge on this--

This nation, which did sack and burn down Rome,

Quenching the coals with blood, and kick'd our ashes,

Trampling upon the ruins of our state;

Then led the Gauls in triumph thorough Greece,

To fix their tents beside Euxinus' gulf.

CÆS. Is this that Northern rout, the scourge of kingdoms,

Whose names, till now unknown, we judged Gauls--

Their tongue and manners not unlike?

CAM. Gauls were indeed the bulk; but Brennus led

(Then brother to the British king) those armies,

Back'd with great troops of warlike islanders.

To thee belongs to render bad for ill.

O, be my spirit doubled in thy breast,

With all the courage of three Scipios,

Marius and Sylla, that this nation, fierce

In feats of war, be forc'd to bear our yoke. [_Exit._

CÆS. So may'st thou sweetly rest, as I shall strive

To trace your steps: nor let me live, if I

Thence disappointed ever seem to fly. [_Exit._

SCENE VIII.

CHORUS.

_1st Song._

_Ancient bards have sung_

_With lips dropping honey_

_And a sugar'd tongue,_

_Of our worthy knights:_

_How Brute_[295] _did giants tame,_

_And, by Isis' current,_

_A second Troy did frame:_

_A centre of delights._

_Locrinus'_[296] _eldest son_

_Did drown the furious Hun,_

_But burnt himself with Elstred's love:_

_Leil_,[297] _rex pacificus;_

_Elud_,[298] _judicious,_

_Now heavenly bodies roll above._

_Wise Bladud_[299] _founded hath_

_Both soul and body's bath,_

_Like Icarus he flew:_

_Now first Mulmutius_[300] _wears_

_A golden crown, whose heirs_

_More than half the world subdue._

_2d Song._

_Thou nurse of champions, O thou spring_

_Whence chivalry did flow!_

_Thou diamond of the world's great ring,_

_Thy glorious virtue show:_

_Thou many a lord hast bred,_

_In catalogue of fame read;_

_And still we have_

_As captives brave,_

_As ever Britons led._

_Then dub a dub, dub._

_The armies join, tantara._

_Cassibelane with armour gay_

_And strongly couched lance,_

_His courser white turn'd into bay,_

_On carcases shall prance._

_What a crimson stream the blade_

_Of Nennius' sword hath made!_

_Black Allia's day_

_And Cannæ's fray_

_Have for a third long stay'd._

_Then dub a dub, dub._

_The armies join, tantara._

FOOTNOTES:

[276] [Fiddle.]

[277] Ovid.--_Steevens._

[278] [An usual form in ancient times.]

[279] Deluges.--_Steevens._

[280] [Allusively to the fabled descent of the Britons from the

Trojans.]

[281] The same sentiment is introduced by Shakespeare into "King John,"

act v. sc. 7--

"This England never did, nor never shall,

Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror.

But when it first did help to wound itself;

Now these her princes are come home again,

Come the three corners of the world in arms.

And we shall shock them: nought shall make us rue,

If England to itself _do rest but true_."

Again, in the old play of "King John," 1591--

"If England's Peers and People join in one,

Nor Pope, nor France, nor Spain can do them wrong."

The same sentiment is in Borde's "Book of the Introduction of

Knowledge," sig. A 4: "They (_i.e._, the English) fare sumptiously,

God is served in their churches devoutli, but treason and deceit among

them is used craftyly, ye more pitie, _for yf they were true wjthin

themselfs, thei nede not to feare, although al nations were set

against them_, specialli now, consydering our noble prince (_i.e._,

Henry VIII.) hath and dayly dothe make noble defences as castels," &c.

[282] See note to "Cornelia," [v. 211.]

[283] A metaphor, from engines by which weights are raised or _winched_

up. Harpocrates was the god of silence.

[284] [Old copy, _slipt_].

[285] I suppose this word is compounded from _denizen_, _i.e._, one

made free, and here very licentiously employed.--_Steevens._

[286] So in Milton's "Paradise Lost," bk. ii. l. 706--

"Incens'd with indignation Satan stood

Unterrify'd, and like a _comet_ burn'd,

That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge

In th' arctic sky, and from his horrid _hair_

_Shakes_ pestilence and war."

[287] See the letter printed in Geoffrey of Monmouth's History, bk. iv.

c. 2.

[288] Pearls. In 1596 Tho. Lodge published a pamphlet, entitled, "A

Margarite of America."

[289] Mars.

"_Gradivumque_ patrem Geticis qui præsidet arvis."

--_Virgil_, _Æneid_, iii. 35.

[290] Reward.

[291] Shields. The author of this play appears to advantage in this and

the subsequent catalogues of warriors.--_Steevens._

[292] Broadswords.

[293] The Severn.

[294] Fluttering.

[295] See note to act iii., sc. 5.

[296] See Geoffrey of Monmouth, bk. ii.; the play of "Locrine,"

[probably by Charles Tylney, and falsely] attributed to Shakespeare;

and Evans's "Old Ballads," vol. i.

[297] See Geoffrey of Monmouth, bk. ii. c. 9.

[298] _Ibid._, bk. iii. c. 19.

[299] _Ibid._, bk. ii. c. 10.

[300] Dunwallo Molmutius. See note to act iii. sc. 5. There was an

old historical play called "Mulmutius Dunwallo," which in Henslowe's

MS. has the date of September 1598 affixed to it; but it must have

been written much earlier, as William Rankins, the author of it, had

long before repented of his "lewd life," and in 1587 published his

"Mirror of Monsters," a puritanical attack on the stage and plays in

general.--_Collier._

ACT III., SCENE I.

_Noise of ships landing, and the battle within._

CÆSAR, VOLUSENUS, LABERIUS, ATRIUS. _Ensign,_

_drums, flags._

CÆS. Our landing cost us dearly, many lives

Between the ships and shore being sacrific'd:

Our men, with heavy armour clogg'd, and ignorant

Of all the flats and shallows, were compell'd

To wade and fight, like Tritons, half above,

Half under water. Now we surer tread,

Though much diminish'd by so many lost.

Come on, come on. [_They march and go out._

CASSIBELANUS, CRIDOUS, BRITAEL, GUERTHED,

_the four Kings of Kent_, NENNIUS, ANDROGEUS,

TENANTIUS, EULINUS, HIRILDAS, BELINUS,

ROLLANO. _Ensigns, drum. A march._

CAS. So, let them land. No matter which they choose,

Fishes or crows, to be executors.

They'll find the land as dangerous as the sea.

The nature of our soil won't bear a Roman,

As Irish earth doth poison poisonous beasts.[301]

On then! charge close, before they gather head.

NEN. Brother, advance. On this side I'll lead up

The new-come succours of the Scots and Picts.

[_They march and go out._

CÆSAR, _&c._

CÆS. What, still fresh supplies come thronging from their dens!

The nest of hornets is awake. I think

Here's nature's shop: here men are made, not born;

Nor stay nine tedious months, but in a trice

Sprout up like mushrooms at war's thunderclap.

We must make out a way. [_Exeunt._

ROLLANO, _armed cap-a-pie_.

ROL. Since I must fight, I am prepar'd to fight!

And much inflam'd with noise of trump and drum:

Methinks I am turn'd lion, and durst meet

Ten Cæsars. Where are all these covetous rogues,

Who spoil the rich for gain, and kill the poor

For glory? bloodsuckers and public robbers.

[LABERIUS _enters_, ROLLANO _retires, afraid;_

_but being gone out, goes forward_.

ROL. Nay, stay, and brag Rollano did thee kill:

Stay, let me flesh my sword, and wear thy spoils.

[LABERIUS _re-enters with an ensign_.

LAB. Come, will ye forsake your ensign, and fall off?

I call to witness all the gods, I here

Perform my duty. Thou canst not escape.

[ROLLANO _would fly, fights, falls as wounded_.

Now die, or yield thyself!

ROL. I yield, I yield! O, save my life, I yield!

I am no Briton, but by chance come hither.

I'll never more lift weapon in their quarrel.

LAB. How may I trust your faith?

ROL. Command me anything.

LAB. Lay down your neck. [_Treads on it._

Give up your sword. [_Beats him with it._

Base coward, live: such foes will ne'er do hurt. [_Exit._

_Enter_ EULINUS, ANDROGEUS, BELINUS, _with_

_bloody swords_.

EUL. Rollano! what, at stand? pursue the chase.

ROL. I made their strongest captain fly: this hand,

This martial hand, I say, did make him fly.

EUL. Some silly scout!

ROL. He was a match for Cyclops; at each step

The ground danc'd, and his nostrils blew the dust:

Arm'd as the god of battle pictur'd is.

EUL. What were his looks?

ROL. His brows were like a stormy winter night,

When Juno scolding and Mars malcontent

Disturb the air. At each look lightning flies;

Jove 'gainst the giants needed but his eyes.

EUL. How eloquent is fear!

ROL. So came he stalking with a beam-like spear:

I gave the onset, then receiv'd his charge,

And next blow cleft his morion:[302] so he flies.

EUL. O, bravely done! here comes a straggling soldier.

_Enter_ LABERIUS.

ROL. 'Tis he, 'tis he. I care not for vain glory;

It's sweeter live, than dead to be a story. [_Runs away._

EUL. O valiant coward, stay! There's not a spark

Of Briton spirit doth enlive thy corpse. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

NENNIUS _pursuing_.

NEN. Fight, Britons, fight! The day is ours. I'm cloy'd

And glutted e'en with slaughter. There some fly,

And flying die, and dying mangled lie.

I twice broke through the ranks, yet cannot find

That vent'rous captain Cæsar, on whose breast

I long to try my blade, and prick that bladder

Puff'd with ambition and victorious fight.

CÆSAR _enters_.

CÆS. We may confess they come of Trojan kind;

An hundred valiant Hectors here we find.

NEN. Fairly encounter'd: let our blades discuss

Who hath the justest cause; and on this combat

May Victory her equal balance hang.

CÆS. Thou seem'st a worthy prince, and Cæsar's match.

[_They fight, wounds_ NENNIUS _in the head,_

_who staggers; fights, and recovers_ CÆSAR'S

_sword fallen, and puts him to flight_.

NEN. Stay, stay! Thou art at home: here's Campus Martius.

The Britons, sought for, see thy frighted back:

Return, and take possession of our isle,

And by thy death be styl'd Britannicus.

Leave not thy blade unsheath'd: a tyrant's heart

To his own sword a scabbard should impart.

Ye senators and gaily-gown'd Quirites,

Open the Capitol's ivory gates, and lead

Fat bulls with garlands green and gilded horns:

Let supplications last for twice ten days:

Cæsar returns a victor!

Prepare the laureate coach and snow-white steeds,

Embroider'd canopy and scarlet gowns:

Let altars smoke, and tholes expect our spoils,[303]

Cæsar returns in triumph! Basely flies,

And leaves his conquest in weak infancy.

For had he won this coast, yet many blows

Must pass, ere he could pass the Thames; and then,

Ere he touch Humber, many nations must

Be tam'd; and then, before he Tweed can drink,

And climb the craggy rocks of Caledon,

A life is spent--yea, many thousand lives.

O, my wound rages, and tormented brain

Doth labour of a fury, not a Pallas.[304]

This blade was steep'd in poison: O, I'm poison'd!

Well didst thou fly, or I had made thee taste

Thine own provision. Now my wrath and pain

With double force shall flow in purple streams.

The three infernal ladies with wire whips

And speckled snakes shall lackey close my steps,

While that I offer hecatombs of men.

The Latian shepherd's brood[305] shall ban those stars,

Whose glimmering sparks led their audacious pines

To lie so far from home in foreign soil.

When cedars fall, whole woods are crush'd; nor die

Can Nennius private without company.

_Enter_ LABERIUS.

Thou runn'st upon thy death.

LAB. A Roman never daunted was with looks,

Else had not Samartane and Lybian bugbears

Been captive led in chains.

NEN. But our looks kill. [_Fight._ LABERIUS _falls_.

Die, slave, by Cæsar's sword! Thou art his friend.

Die as the ransom of his greater ghost;

And learn, as well as I, how venom smarts.

Be thou my post to the Tartarian prince,

And tell him Nennius comes: but first I'll send

More of you headlong home, a nearer way

Than by the cloudy Alps. [_Exit. A retreat sounded._

SCENE III.

CASSIBELANUS, BELINUS, LANTONUS.

CAS. Now hot alarums die in fainter notes:

Tempestuous night is gone: victorious joy--

As when pale Eos[306] cleaves the eastern fogs,

And, blushing more and more, opes half her eye,

With holy water sprinkling all the meads,

Whose clear reflex serves as her morning glass--

Doth paint with gaudy plumes the chequer'd sky.

The only name of victory sounds sweeter

Than all mellifluous rhetoric.

LAT. Thanks to Andates,[307] whose power kingdoms feel--

Andates, greatest goddess: in whose train

Fear, red-fac'd anger, and confusion's wheel,

Murder and desolation run before:

But joyful shouts, mirth, olive-budding peace,

And laurel-crowned triumph at her back

Do pace with stately steps. Thy temple is

The earth, where furious monarchs play the priests:

Armies of men imbrue thy altar-stones.

Thanks also to the trident-shaker's mace,[308]

Drawn by two rampant sea-horses, at whose beck

The waters wrinkled frown or smoothly smile.

But thou, heav'n's diamond, fair Phoebus' sister,

Nor Delian dames nor the Ephesian towers

Shall blazon more thy praise. Thy influence strong

Struck up the sandy ooze, that madding waves

Batter'd their ships, and dash'd their bended sails,

And with a tempest turn'd them round in scorn.

CAS. But where's the answer which her idol gave?

Can you expound the sense?

LAN. Dread sovereign, thus runs the oracle--

_Loud doth the king of beasts roar,_

_High doth the queen of birds soar:_

_But her wings clipp'd soon grow out;_

_Both repent they are so stout._

_Till C. 'gainst C. strike a round,_

_In a perfect circle bound._

The meaning, wrapp'd up in cross doubtful terms,

Lies yet thus open. That disastrous fate

Must be the prologue to a joyful close.

The rest we'll search out, if our skill don't fail.

BEL. Renown'd Cassibelane, might my counsel speak?

CAS. I know thy loyal heart and prudent head,

Upon whose hairs Time's child, Experience, hangs

A milk-white badge of wisdom; and canst wield

Thy tongue in senate and thy hands in field.

Speak free, Belinus.

BEL. We forfeit fame and smother victory

By idle lingering: the foe discomfited

Must needs be much amaz'd; his ships dismember'd,

Do piecemeal float upon the waves: the horse,

Whose succour he expects, are beaten back

By friendly winds: his camp contracted is:

A tithe of soldiers left, the rest all slain:

His chief munition spent or lost: provision

(An army's soul) but what we give, he wants.

What then shall hinder to destroy their name?

So none again shall venture: but our isle,

Rounded with Nereus' girdle, may enjoy

Eternal peace.

CAS. I like thy warning; with united stroke

Of all our nations we'll his camp beleaguer,

Devouring ships and men. But one mischance,

My brother's wound (his mortal wound, I fear)

Turns all to wormwood. Why were ye dumb, ye idols?

No sainted statue did foretell this grief.

Come, let's go visit him. You may, lord general,

Set Comius free; we love not to insult,

But render good for ill. [_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.

CÆSAR, VOLUSENUS, _&c._

CÆS. Heaven, sea and wind, and all the elements,

Conspire to work us harm. Our ships, in Gaul

Windbound, at length put forth and come in view,

Are toss'd and torn; our navy on the shore

With civil discord break each other's planks.

The airy rulers are displeas'd; all day

Noises and nimble flashes, mix'd with rain,

Amaze our soldiers.

To make grief full, my daughter's death I hear.

When, powerful fortune, will thy anger cease?

Never till now did Cæsar fortune fear.

Mount Palatine, thou throne of Jove, and ye,

Whose lesser turrets pinnacle Rome's head,

Are all your deities fled? or was I bold

To outgo nature, and our empire stretch

Beyond her limits? Pardon, then, my fault.

Or do we basely faint? Or is our might

Answer'd with like, since Troy 'gainst Troy doth fight?

Nor can I write now, _I came over, and_

_I overcame:_ such foes deny such haste.

VOL. The islanders consult, and (sure) intend

Some sudden stratagem. And now the scales

Poise equal day and night, when rougher seas

And stormy Pleiads may our passage stop.

CÆS. Then, sirs, to ship! Compell'd, I leave this land,

But to return, if gods do not withstand. [_Exeunt._

SCENE V.

CASSIBELANUS, BELINUS, LANTONUS. NENNIUS

_in a chair_.

NEN. We won the day, and all our foes are fled?

BEL. Yes, noble Nennius, scatter'd on the shore,

Thick lay the Latins, and the glutted stream

Spews up her dead, whom death hath taught to swim,

Though ignorant alive: their flowing blood

Made a new red sea. But those few we lost,

Sweetly repos'd upon their mother's breast,

And, wounded all before, kept in their face

A warlike frown.

NEN. Where is false Cæsar's sword, call'd Crocea Mors,[309]

Which never hurt but kill'd? Let it be plac'd

Within my tomb.

BEL. Here is the fatal blade.

NEN. Death like a Parthian flies, and flying kills;

In midst of conquest came my deadly wound.

Accursed weapon--more accursed man

Who, serpent-like, in poison bathes his sting!

Tiber doth breed as venomous beasts as Nile.

We scorn such cruel craft. But death draws near,

A giddy horror seizeth on my brain.

Dear brother, and thou holy priest of heaven,

Witness my words; I leave my country free,

And die a victor. Thus with lighter wing

My purified soul mounts to her first best cause.

I long even to behold those glorious cloisters,

Where Brutus,[310] great Dunwallo,[311] and his sons,

Thrice-noble spirits, walk.

Thou mighty enginer of this wondrous globe,

Protect this isle, confound all foreign plots:

Grant Thames and Tiber never join their channels;

But may a natural hate, deriv'd from us,

Live still in our long-trailed progeny--

My eyes do swim in death--

Before this land shall wear the Roman yoke,

Let first the adamantine axle crack,

Which binds the ball terrestrial to her poles,

And dash the empty air! let planets drop

Their scalding jelly, and, all flame being spent,

Entomb the world in everlasting smoke![312]

Come faster, Death: I can behold thy grim

And ugly jaws with quiet mind. Now, now

I hear sweet music; and my spirit flies. [_He dies._

CAS. His breath is gone, who was his country's prop

And my right hand. Now only doth he crave

To see him laid with honour in the grave. [_Exeunt._

SCENE VI.

EULINUS, HIRILDAS.

EUL. A mind content, O, 'tis a mind of pearl:

A mint of golden thoughts, a heaven on earth!

When eager longers meet full-butt their scope,

And hopes are actuated beyond hope.

So Jason joy'd, the golden fleece obtain'd;

So Hercules joy'd, the golden fruit being gain'd;

So Venus joy'd the golden ball to hold;

So Midas joy'd when he turn'd all to gold.

So, and much more, rejoic'd the Phrygian swain,

When he convey'd the fairest (except mine),

Which air did ever kiss. His brazen keel,

Proud of her burden, slic'd the capering brine:

The Tritons blew their horns, and sea-gods dance.

Before, behind, about his ship they prance:

The mermaids skip on high, but to compare

Their dangling tresses with her silken hair--

These were but shadows of my bliss. A robe

Of pure beatitude wraps me round about,

Without a speck or blemish; nor can invention

Wish more unto me than I have--Landora.

I'm rich, free, learned, honour'd--all in this.

Who dares conceive against the female sex

But one base thought? Lo, here I stand their champion,

And will maintain he is a beast, a devil,

Begot between a bitch-wolf and an incubus.

Women, all-good, all-perfect and all-gracious,

Men-making creatures, angels clad in flesh;

Let me adore your name!

HIR. And let me speak

Why, Landora loves not you, but me in you.

EUL. But I in you enjoy Landora's love.

HIR. But she enjoys not your love, 'cause unknown.

EUL. No matter, I in you or you in me,

So that I still possess my dearest dear.

A paltry fancy last night in her bed

Turmoil'd my thoughts, which since I shap'd in rhymes.

Thus.

HIR. Prythee let's hear: I know thou art turn'd poet.

_The Dream._

Night having drawn the curtain, down I lie

By one--for worse Saturnius left the sky.

Slumb'ring at last, for love can hardly sleep,

Straightways I dream'd, for love doth revels keep,

A damsel fair, and fashion'd for delight

(Our day-born objects do return at night),

With flow'ry chaplet and red velvet gown,

Which from her breast was fasten'd along down

With rich enamell'd locks, all which one key,

Whose bright gold 'bout her silver neck did play,

Could open and divorce. A veil most fair

(Such whiteness only Paphian doves do wear)

With false light did her beauteous front improve;

From this arch Cupid shot his darts of love.

With gentle strain she took me by the hand

(Touches in love do more than tongues command),

Then leads me with an amorous smile along:

He's easily led whom beauty draws, more strong

Than cable ropes. An altar we descry,

Where incense-frank[313] and amber fumes did fly

In little rolling curls: a reverend priest,

With snowy beard waving upon his breast,

There kneeling did his eyes in sorrow steep.

Whose passionate cry made me, though ignorant, weep.

Phlegon's[314] hot breath no sooner licks up dew

Than joy had dried those tears; for, lo, I view

A circular room, all built with marble clear,

The title, nature's storehouse. Most strange here

It seem'd: I know not how we came nor whence,

Nor any passage saw to get from thence.

But O, the rich delight and glorious fire

Which dazzled me! no heart can more desire.

Here first my guide op'd her spice-breathing door:

Ask what thou wilt, this is the ark of store.

No vows are here repuls'd, she said. But I,

Surpris'd with extreme joy and ecstasy,

By chance a scorpion's tail behind her spied:

Pity such beauty such a monster hide!

Trembling, yet silent, doubtful what to crave;

Lo! with a stink and fearful screech this brave

And glorious dame doth vanish, and a dart,

Which still I quake at, struck me to the heart.

But waking I reviv'd, and found in bed

Such sovereign balm would cure old Peleus dead.[315]

HIR. Ha, ha! your tedious dream hath made me drowsy.

But hark, we must attend the funeral pomp.

SCENE VII.

_The funeral passes over the stage._ NENNIUS'S

_'scutcheon, armour, Cæsar's sword borne._

_Torches, mourners._

CAS. Set down that heavy load with heavier hearts.

Could virtuous valour, honourable thoughts,

A noble scorn of fortune, pride and death,

Myriads of vows and prayers sent to heaven;

Could country's love or Britain's genius save

A mortal man from sleeping in his grave,

Then hadst thou liv'd, great Nennius, and outliv'd

The smooth-tongu'd Greek. But we may more envy,

And less bewail thy loss, since thou didst fall

On honour's lofty field-bed, on which stage

Never did worthy act a statelier part.

Nor durst pale death approach with cypress sad,

Till flourishing bays thy conquering temples clad.

_A Funeral Elegy sung to the Harp._

_Turnus may conceal his name,_

_Nennius had Æneas' fame._

_Hannibal let Afric smother,_

_Nennius was great Scipio's brother._

_Greece, forbear Achilles' story,_

_Nennius had brave Hector's glory._

_Thrush and nightingale, be dumb:_

_Sorrowful songs befit a tomb._

_Turn, ye marble stones, to water:_

_Isis' nymphs forswear all laughter:_

_Sigh and sob upon your bed,_

_Beli's noble son is dead._

_A banquet served over the stage._ ROLLANO, _with a leg_

_of a capon and a tankard of wine._

ROL. I like such slaughtering well of birds and beasts,

Which wear no swords, nor shake a fatal pike,

When hogsheads bleed, and oxen mangled lie.

O, what a world of victuals is prepar'd

For sacrifice and feasting! Forty thousand

Fat bullocks! then the parks and forests send

Full thirty thousand wild beasts, arm'd with horns

And dangerous teeth: the main battalion

Consists of sheep, an hundred thousand fat:

The wings are both supplied with birds and fowls

_Sans_ number: and some fish for succours serve--

A goodly army. Troynovant doth smoke,

And smells all like a kitchen. The king, princes,

And nobles of the land a triumph hold.

Music and songs, good cheer and wine; and wine

And songs, and music and good cheer. Hei, brave!

No more shall barley-broth pollute my throat,

But nectar--nectar of the grape's sweet blood.

Come, heavenly potion--wine, whose gentle warmth

Softens the brain, unlocks the silent tongue;

Wit's midwife, and our spirit's vestal priest,

Keeping alive the natural heat. A health,

A health (to make short work) to all the world!

So will it (sure) go round. [_Steals behind._

_The triumphs._ CASSIBELANUS: _four Kings of Kent:_

_three Kings_, CRIDOUS, BRITAEL, GUERTHED;

ANDROGEUS, TENANTIUS, HIRILDAS, EULINUS,

BELINUS, _take places_.

CAS. Sorrow must doff her sable weeds, and joy

Furbish the Court with fresh and verdant colours;

Else should we seem ungrateful to the gods.

Triumphs must thrust out obsequies; and tilt

With tourney, and our ancient sport call'd Troy,

Such as Iulus 'bout his grandsire's tomb

Did represent; and at each temple's porch,

Games, songs, and holy murdering of beasts. [_They sit down._

_A dancing masque of six enters, then the epinicion[316]_

_sung by two bards._

_The Roman eagle, threatening woe,_

_The sea did shadow with her wing;_

_But our goose-quills did prick her so_

_That from the clouds they down her bring._

BOTH. _Sing then_, _ye hills and dales so-so clear,_

_That Iö Pæan all may hear._

_They may us call isles fortunate;_

_They sought for life here, not for fame._

_All yield to them, they to our state:_

_The world knows but our double name._

BOTH. _Sing then, ye streams and woods so-so clear,_

_That Iö Pæan all may hear._

ANDROGEUS _and_ TENANTIUS _play at foils, then_

HIRILDAS _and_ EULINUS _play_.

EUL. 'Twas foully play'd.

HIR. You lie, 'twas fairly hit.

EUL. I'll give a quittance.

HIR. Do your worst, vain braggart.

[_They take swords, fight_, HIRILDAS _slain_.

O, I'm slain.

CAS. Hold, hold! my nephew's slain before my face.

Life shall be paid with life.

AND. He shall not die.

CAS. Shall not? your king and uncle says he shall.

EUL. No kingly menace or censorious frown

Do I regard. Tanti[317] for all your power!

But the compunction of my guilt doth send

A shudd'ring chilness through my veins inflam'd.

Why do ye stare, ye grisly powers of night?

There, there his soul goes: I must follow him.

[_Offers to kill himself: is hindered._

AND. He was provok'd, and did it in defence:

And, being my kinsman, shall be judg'd by laws

Of Troynovant: such custom claims our court.

CAS. No custom shall bar justice. I command

That he appear before us.

AND. Trials are vain when passion sits as judge.

CAS. I'll soon rebate this insolent disdain.

[_Exeunt_ ANDROGEUS, TENANTIUS, _and_ EULINUS.

Let not this dismal chance deface our joy,

Most royal friends.

CRI. War being silenced, and envy's rage

In hell fast fetter'd, sound we now retreat,

That soldiers may regreet their household gods;

Their children cling about their armed thighs.

BRI. And place their trophies 'bout their smoky halls;

There hang a gauntlet bright, here a stabb'd buckler,

Pile up long pikes,[318] and in that corner plant

A weighty sword, brandish'd by some centurion:

Not he, who ne'er on snaky perils trod,

But happy he, who hath them stoutly pass'd:

For danger's sauce gives joy a better taste.

GUER. Great monarch, if thy summons call us back,

We tender here our service, men and arms,

As duty bids and binds.

CAS. Should he return, our province dares him front.

So a most kind adieu unto all three.

[_Exeunt_ CRIDOUS, BRITAEL, _and_ GUERTHED.

Cingetorix, Carvilius, Taximagulus, Segonax,

I know your faithful love: Kent's fourfold head

Will check rash rebels, and as firmly stand

As hearty oaks, who bear off Æolus' blows,

And with a whistle but deride his force.

[_Exeunt four Kings of Kent._

Burst, gall, and dye my actions in flame-colour!

I saw Hirildas fall, and breathe his soul

Even in my face; as though hell watch'd a time

To crush our pomp and glory into sighs.

The conduits of his vital spring being ripp'd,

Spurtl'd my robes, soliciting revenge. Belinus,

Attach the murderer, and if abettors

Deny obedience, then with sword and fire

Waste their dominions. For a traitor's sake,

Whole towns shall tremble, and the ground shall quake. [_Exeunt._

SCENE VIII.

ANDROGEUS, TENANTIUS, MANDUBRATIUS.

AND. Shall justice and just Libra ne'er forsake

Th' embroider'd belt? no sign of them on earth?

Are gods dim-sighted grown, or do they sleep

The morning, and carouse the afternoon,

That mortal motions tumble thus by chance?

Cleave, thou blue marble ceiling, that heaven's king

With clearer aim may strike a tyrant's crown,

Nor spend his brimstone bullets 'gainst some hill

Or innocent pine.

MAN. Your injuries run low; mine break all bounds.

My father butcher'd at his lawless will:

I banish'd from my lands, depos'd from rule,

Owing my life to night and flight.

TEN. I do confess, you may complain aloud,

And tear the element with a dolorous note:

Call down Astræa from her crystal chair,

Or call up Nemesis from the direful deep,

To expiate your wrongs.

Else would the manes of your father slain

In a white sheet come sliding to your bed,

And be reveng'd on you. He gave you life;

How can you better spend it, than to wreak

His death and slaughter? but our case and cause,

Brother, is not the same. Eulinus slew

His innocent friend, and we defend the fact,

With hostile noise drowning law's reverend voice;

But murder outcries both. Give me then leave

To be a neutral: my young years, unfit

For any desperate course, can but complain,

The king our uncle doth not use us well. [_Exit._

AND. Usurpers use this method still: at first

He as protector slily got the stern,

During our nonage: then the commons' voice,

Bought with a fawning brow and popular grace,

Confirms his regiment;[319] we appointed sharers,

With empty titles to beguile our thoughts,

Like puppet-lords dress'd up with crown and scarf,

Glad that we live and hunt, and reign o'er brutes--

Our uncle is the king who,[320] when he saw

His throne establish'd and his foes repuls'd,

Grown big with prosperous fortune, proudly spurns

All fear of God or man.

MAN. His anger, nurs'd by jealousies, must feed

On princes' flesh, who lose both state and life,

If they but look awry. A tyrant's growth,

Rear'd up by ruins, thence may learn his fall:

For whom all fear, he justly feareth all.

AND. In antiphons[321] thus tune we female plaints;

But plots and force beseem us. Thus great Cæsar

Shall pull him down below us. Thou, Mandubrace,

Sure pledges take of our revolt, and quickly

Implore his aid, blow up his drooping fire

With hopeful terms. But let him stronger come.

MAN. I fly unseen, as charmers[322] in a mist.

Grateful revenge, whose sharp-sweet relish fats

My apprehensive soul![323] though all were pared off

Which doth accrue from fortune, and a man left

As barely poor as nature thrust him out;

Nay worse--though spirits boil: rage, anger, care,

And grief, like wild-horse, tear the affrighted mind;

Though wrongs excoriate the heart; yet all is sweeten'd

If vengeance have her course. I reck[324] not how;

Let commonwealth expire, and owls proclaim

Sad desolation in our halls; let heaps

Of dust and rubbish epitaph our towns;

Let fire and water fight, who first shall spoil

This universal frame. From north or south,

Revenge, th' art welcome! No sin worse than pity;

A tyrant's only physic is phlebotomy. [_Exeunt._

SCENE IX.

_Chorus._

_1st Song._

_Rejoice, O Britain!_

_Britain, O, rejoice!_

_The stormy cloud pass'd o'er,_

_And only made a noise._

_A clattering sound was heard,_

_And still we felt no wound:_

_Rejoice, rejoice,_

_Thou happy Britons' ground._

_O that sweet Plenides,_

_Eloquent Orone,_

_Were now to chant our victories_

_With a melodious tone;_

_And rousing echo from the dales,_

_With Harmony to sound:_

_Rejoice, rejoice,_

_Thou happy Britons' ground._

_2d Song_

_Gang, ye lads and lasses,_

_Sa wimble and sa wight:_

_Fewl mickle teen betide ye,_

_If ye ligg in this plight._

_Be bonny, buxom, jolly,_

_Trip haydegues[325] belive;_

_And gif night gars the welkin merk,_

_Tom piper do you blive._

_Hidder, eke and shidder,_

_With spic'd sew ycram'd;_

_Sa that unneath thilke borrels_

_May well ne yede, ne stand:_

_As leefe as life do weete it,_

_When timbarins giu sound;_

_Fore harvest gil prankt up in lathe,_

_To loute it low around._[326]

FOOTNOTES:

[301] [An allusion to a belief which is mentioned in many of our early

plays. See Dyce's Middleton, iv. 495.]

[302] Helmet.

[303] _i.e._, The roofs of the temples. "De _tholis_ pendent laqueata

circum Arma."

[304] Pallas being feigned by the poets to have been bred in Jupiter's

brain.

[305] _i.e._, The Romans, who owed their founders, Romulus and

Remus, to the care of _Faustulus_, who was shepherd to the tyrant

Amulius.--_Steevens._

[306] The goddess of the morning.--_Steevens._

[307] The goddess of revenge. Baxter, in his "Glossary," says she is

corruptly so called, and that her true name should be Andrasta.

[308] A mace [here seems to mean a sceptre, but properly stands for a

club.]

[309] Geoffrey of Monmouth says, "His (Nennius's) funeral exequies

were performed with regal pomp, and Cæsar's sword put into the tomb

with him, which he kept possession of when struck into his shield in

the combat. The name of the sword was _Crocea Mors_, Yellow Death, as

being mortal to everybody that was wounded with it."--Bk. iv. c. 4,

Thompson's translation, 1718, p. 102.

[310] By Geoffrey of Monmouth said to be the great grandson of Æneas.

After being banished from Italy, on account of accidentally killing his

father, he arrived at Britain, to which he gave his own name. He built

_Trinovantum_, or London, and dying, left the government of the nation

to his sons.

[311] _Dunwallo Molmutius_, son of Cloton, King of Cornwall. After a

reign of 40 years he died, and was buried at Trinovantum, near the

Temple of Concord.--"Geoffrey of Monmouth," bk. ii. c. 17. [Compare p.

484.]

[312] So in "King Henry IV., Part. II."--

"And darkness be the burier of the dead."

_--Steevens._

[313] Frankincense.--_Steevens._

[314] One of the horses of the Sun.--_Steevens._

[315] Perhaps _Pylius_, _i.e._, Nestor--

"Illius ad tactum Pylius juvenescere possit."

--_Steevens._

[316] The song of triumph.

[317] This expression of contempt I have seen in other ancient writers.

It is used in the first scene of Marlowe's "Edward II."--

"As for the multitude, they are but sparks

Rak'd up in embers of their poverty;

_Tanti_; I'll fan first on the wind," &c.

There is, perhaps, some omission after it, as the line is imperfect,

which might explain the meaning of the exclamation.--_Collier._

[318] Old copy, _piles_.

[319] _i.e._, His government, authority. Hitherto it was misprinted--

"Bought with a _frowning_ brow and popular grace."

The right reading is restored from the quarto.--_Collier._

[320] [Old copy, _King. So when._]

[321] Alternate singing.--_Steevens._

[322] _Charmers_ are _enchanters_ or _magicians_. So in "Othello," act

iii. sc. 4--

"That handkerchief

Did an Egyptian to my mother give;

She was a _charmer_, and could almost read

The thoughts of people."

And again in "The Two Noble Kinsmen," act v. sc. 4--

"Oh, you heavenly _charmers_,

What things you make of us!"

[323] _i.e._, Perceptive, feeling. Falstaff observes that sack makes

the mind _apprehensive_, quick, &c.

[324] _I reck not how_ is the true reading: Mr Reed allowed it to stand

according to the error of the old copy, _I wreak not how_; but to

_reck_ and to _wreak_ are words of a totally different signification.

To _reck_ means to _care for_, while to _wreak_ means to _revenge_.

ACT IV., SCENE I.

CÆSAR, VOLUSENUS, _Attendants_.

CÆS. A story is't or fable that, stern Mars,

Thy weight did Romulus' sleepy mother press?

Since we, thy brood degenerous, stand at gaze,

Charm'd in the circle of a foaming flood,

And trail our dastard pikes? Burst, Janus' prison!

Roar as thou didst at Troy, drown Stentor's voice

By many eighths,[327] which Pindus may re-beat,

Which Caucasus may as a catch repeat,

And Taurus lough the same:[328] that pigmies small

May squeak, it thunders, and dive into burrows.

Let the four winds with dreadful clamours sing

Thy anger through th' affrighted world.

What Lemnian chain shackles our mounting eagle?

The moon's round concave is too strait a cage

For her advanced pinions.

_Enter_ MANDUBRATIUS,[329] _wounded and bloody, with_

ANDROGEUS'S _young son_.

MAN. If pity can have room in angry breast,

Favour a Briton prince, his father slain,

His regiment bereft, his dearest blood

Drawn by the sword of false Cassibelane,

Having got crown, he then struck at my head;

Nor can I safely suck my native air.

His coz Androgeus also and whole regions

In open war withstand his violence,

Lo, Albion's aged arms spread wide t'enchain

Thee, as her patron, in a true-love knot.

Wherefore, dread Cæsar, let thy mercy strike

Revengeful fires, and be justly styled, [_Kneels._

Tamer of tyrants. Then fame blows aloud,

When valour helps the weak, pulls down the proud.

CÆS. Arise, unhappy prince, our deeds shall show

We grant thy suit. Fortune repents at last;

[_To_ VOLUSENUS.

The moon is chang'd, the globe doth to us turn

Her shining cheek, and wooes us with a smile.

But what firm signs of faith, what faithful aid,

What furtherance, can you give at our arrival?

MAN. See here Androgeus' heir, whose tender age

His father ventures, and makes bold with nature

To pledge his darling. He and thirty more

Of noble lineage shall assure our faith;

Besides I pawn my life.

CÆS. Enough. I'll once more cross the seas:

For your good more than mine; that happier sky

May bless your towns with peace, your fields with plenty;

Perpetual spring, in gay perfum'd attire,

Sirname your isle the garden of the west.

MAN. Thanks, gracious Cæsar, for this kind acceptance,

My knee doth kiss the ground, my lip your knee.

Pardon, ye gods, if any haunt our land,

Ye nymphs and lares, fawns and sylvans wild,

That thus I bring a stranger on our coasts,

Whose foreign shape and language may affright

Our lazy clowns, and on my country's back

Once tread victorious steps. Be pleas'd to view

Wrongs now redress'd, neglected first by you.

CÆS. Now, Volusene,

Our glorious state, like the noon-pointed sun,

When he bestrides the lion's flaming fleece,

Doth north-west roll his burning brand, whose fire

The ocean's blue lake cannot stop, but flies

With brighter blaze to thaw the frozen isles.

But how proceeds our preparation?

VOL. Many strong ships are built, five legions arm'd

Ready to launch.

CÆS. Blow gently, Africus:

Play on our poops. When Hyperion's son

Shall couch in west his foam-bedappl'd jades,

We'll rise to run our course.

SCENE II.

EUL. Though Orpheus' harp, Arion's lute, the chimes

Whose silver sound did Theban towers raise:

Though sweet Urania with her ten-string'd lyre,

Unto whose stroke the daily-rolling spheres

Dance their just measures, should with tune and tone

Tickle my air-bred ear; yet can their notes

Those fabulous stones more enter, than my soul.

Lead, poppy, slumber, stupefy my heart;

But Bedlam grief acts gambols in my brain.

The Centaur's wheel, Prometheus' hawk, the vulture

Of Tityus, Sisyphus' never-mossy stone,

The tale of Danaids' tub and Tantalus' gaping,

Are but flea-bitings to my smart. I've slain

A kinsman--more, a friend I dearly lov'd:

Nay more, no cause provoking, but in rash

And hellish choler.

I thought my love had cannon-proof been 'gainst

A world of injuries; when see, all is split

By a small wind. Cursed be thou, my sword,

The instrument of fury! cursed hand,

Which mad'st the thrust! but most accursed part,

Whose ruddy flesh triangular boil'd in flame,

Like an Ætnean or Vesuvian salamander!

That breast I so could hug, that faithful breast,

That snowy white, I with dark sanguine stain'd;

And from the wound's red lips his panting heart

Did seem to say, Is this a friendly deed?

O no, Hirildas: bears can harmless play,

Lions can dally, and sheathe up their claws;

I only, worst of brutes, kill friends in jest.

Why does Androgeus, kindly-cruel, keep

Me from their sentence? say, law bids me die;

If law should not, I'll make that law myself.

Shall ensigns be display'd, and nations rage

About so vile a wretch? shall foreign hoofs

Kick up our trembling dust, and must a Cæsar

Redeem my folly with a kingdom's fall?

First may I stop black Cerberus' triple jaws.

Die, die! thou hast outliv'd thyself. Thou only,

Phoenix of females, still dost bind and bound

My runagate spirit in these walls of mud;

From thee and for thee 'tis I breathe. Yet how

Borrow can I his shape, or use mine own?

Odious before, now worse than hell-born goblin,

With brand and chains to scare this dove, all quaking

'Twixt wrath and fear. But time may favour win;

When hope doth fail, then knife or rope begin. [_Exit._

SCENE III.

CASSIBELANUS, BELINUS, ROLLANO.

CAS. Wisdom, confirm my sense! what seem'd their number?

ROL. Rising from shore, conjecture might descry

A thousand ships with painted prows to pave

The briny fields of Neptune; their broad sails

Did Nereus canopy, Titan's taper veil.

As nations twenty-nine 'gainst Troy built up

A floating Delos of a thousand ships,

To plough the liquid glass; no frame of Pallas,

No crafty Sinon; but those wooden horse

Did Troy _dis-Troy_. So Troynovant shall feel

Her mother's fate; Achilles comes again,

And Pergamus again shall sink in dust;

They threaten. [_Exit._

CAS. Wonder! what can their arsenals spawn so fast?

Last year his barks and galleys were debosh'd;[330]

This spring they sprout again: belike their navy,

Like the Lernæan adder, faster grows

The more 'tis prun'd. They come their last. Lord deputy,

Lead on the present troops, and levy new.

'Twere best, I think, to let him land, lest view

Of his huge navy should our commons fright.

Retire ourselves to some place of advantage,

Entice him from his ships; so cut the veins

Which nourish both: enclos'd he cannot 'scape.

BEL. I rather judge, we should oppose his footing,

Using the benefit of our natural mound.

CAS. Uncertain 'tis where--when, he makes inroad:

To furnish all, unlikely: to neglect

Any were dangerous as Pelides' heel,

Our shores are large and level: then t' attend

His time and leisure would exhaust the state--

Weary our soldiers.

BEL. All places may be strengthen'd more or less,

As by last year discretion now may guess.

The clifts themselves are bulwarks strong: the shelves

And flats refuse great ships: the coast so open,

That every stormy blast may rend their cables,

Put them from anchor; suffering double war:

Their men pitch'd battle, and ships naval fight.

For charges 'tis no season to dispute:

Spend something or lose all. Shall he maintain

A fleet t' enthral us, we detract small costs.

When freedom, life and kingdom lie at stake?

CAS. But the assailants are the flower of Italy,

Back'd with four hundred Gallic horse, all tried

And gallant troops, join'd in one martial body,

To give a fuller stroke; when we defendants,

Scatter'd along, can weak resistance make;

Plainness of ground affording us no shelter.

BEL. For what serve sart and engines, mounds and trenches,

But to correct the nature of a plain?

A few on firm land may keep out a million

Weaken'd by sea, false footing, billows' rage,

And pond'rous arms; when as, receiv'd within,

He prospers by our spoil: we feed a viper,

And malcontents and rebels have a refuge.

Nor were it safe to venture all at once;

When one fought field being lost, swift ruin runs,

And rushing throws down all.

CAS. We know our strength and his; we'll fight in field

Some dozen miles from sea. An open theatre

Gives lustre to our prowess: to keep him out

Supposes fear, not manhood. No, let him march,

Till he rouse Death, and stride his future grave.

BEL. Your will commands, and mine obeys. [_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.

CÆSAR, _&c. Ensign, drum, trumpet, flag, Soldiers,_

_Shipmen. The noise of landing_.

CÆS. The coast is clear; our honour is the goal.

In vain doth Tagus' yellow sand obey,

Rhine's horned front and nimble Tigris running

For wager with the wind, which skims his top;

In vain from Ganges to Hesperian Gades,

The bounds mark'd out by Jove's two base-born sons[331]

Our echo'd name doth sound, if we recoil

From hence again not victors.

Ye pilots old, who were begot mermaids,

Whose element is their sea, bred and brought up

In cradles rock'd with storms and wooden walls.

Fear not to grapple with the seas. Fear not

Their bulks, brave veterans; that extended mass

Is not of iron, but can bleed and die:

They were not dipp'd in Styx, nor are they giants

Or wild poetic Centaurs we assail.

Let then this voyage quit out credit lost,

And let rage lash on courage. Here's the game;

Life may be lost, but (sure) we'll hold fast fame!

[_They march about and go out. The whole_

_battle within._

CASSIBELANUS, BELINUS, _&c., Soldiers_.

CAS. Our first attempt doth prosper: they retiring

Scud to the bosom of their fir-tree vaults,

And under hatches hide themselves from death.

The Cornish band made havoc of their ranks,

Like Scythian wolves 'midst of a bleating fold:

The jingling lances, rattling chariot-wheels,

Madded their horse. The bowmen merrily shot.

BEL. Yet would our tributary kings had succour'd!

We are decay'd, they much in number grown,

And surely will make head again.

CAS. Fear not; thou know'st I can even with a whistle

Hide Kent with glitt'ring arms. More flaming sparkles

Paint not a freezing night; nor speckl'd bees

Buz not about sweet Hybla's bloomy head.

But what need millions, when some thousand serve?

O, did my brother live! we'd climb the Alps.

Like brave Mulmutius' sons: make Romulus' wolf

Howl horror in their streets, and Rome look pale,

As when the Punic captain[332] ey'd her walls. [_March out._

CÆSAR, VOLUSENUS, _&c._

CÆS. Are ye the men, who never fought in vain?

Who wear Bellona's favours in your scars?

Ay, ye are they. What then benumbs our spirits?

Our empire from Quirinus' narrow centre

Doth circling spread, and finds no brink nor bottom.

Titan no later sets nor earlier wakes,

Than he beholds our provinces. Why, then,

What privilege hath this place? have we or they

The Phrygian powers? have they Palladium got?

No, no; those gods our capitol keeps with joy;

These only have undaunted minds from Troy.

_Enter_ Q. ATRIUS.

What news, good Atrius?

ATRIUS. No good news from Atrius.

When ominous earth with shade and cloudy vapours

Had darkness doubled, storms began to sound,

The dappl'd south, rough-footed Aquilo,

Came rushing like two rams, whose steeled horns

Dart fiery sparks: the clouds (crush'd) breathe out flames:

Thunder and lightning daunt all ears and eyes:

The winds and billows strive who loudest roar:

The sky distill'd in rain: his room to fill,

Ambitious waves would climb the starry hill.

Our ships are batter'd all, some forty sunk.

CÆS. What devil Cacus drags our fortune back![333]

Doth she move retrograde, and hoist us up,

That we may fall at height? why doth Camillus

Each night torment my sleep, and cry revenge?

I strive against the stream.

_Enter_ ANDROGEUS, MANDUBRATIUS, _Soldiers_.

AND. Thus join we standards; and resign the keys

Of Troynovant with all our warlike forces.

MAN. By me the Trinobants[334] submit, and Cenimagnians,

Segontiacs, Ancalites, Bybrocs, and Cassians:

Six worthy nations do desire thy guard.

CÆS. All, all shall know our love.

MAN. The tyrant lies on Isis' flow'ry banks,

Where a full choir sing of white surplic'd swans.

The ford's unlevel belly they have fenc'd

With sharp stakes under water.

CÆS. Nor stakes, lakes, fords, nor swords shall check our progress.

Those downy swans shall hear more funeral notes.

Their kings departed, Nennius dead, whose loss

Would tears extort even from pumicean eyes:

Had Britain nurs'd but such another champion,

They might have stuck their darts on our barr'd gates,

And Latium trembled with contrary fates.[335]

In what now lies their hope?

MAN. Great numbers still remain: nay, worse, they laugh

At death, and boldly trust (as Druids preach)

Their souls who die in fight shall live in joy.

Hence count they dangers benefits, and die

With freedom in their mouth and wilful rage.

But let soft mildness wait on women; let

Thy wrath ring through the woods in dusty noise,

To tell thy coming. No man's built so lofty,

But his foundation meets the humble dust;

Which undermin'd, how high he pierc'd the clouds,

So deep he sinks.

Hostile and civil foes shake top and root,

As winds invade above and mines below.

And so will we.

CÆS. No doubt: this blow shall like an earthquake move

The roots and pillars of this sea-clipp'd isle.

A cloud of vultures shall attend our camp,

And no more shall the fields bear vert, but gules:[336]

The grain, engrain'd in purple dye, shall lose

His verdant hue. Bones, marrow, human limbs

Shall putrifying reek, whose vapour'd slime,

Kindl'd on high, may breed long-bearded stars,

To tell more mischief, and outbeard Apollo.

MAN. Let's waste no time, lest more unto him flock,

As humours glide to guard the wounded member.

CÆS. Atrius, let our ships be drawn on shore,

New-rigg'd and mended. I must needs confess him

A darling of the gods, under whose colours

Stars, winter, sky, and tempests serve in pay,

And know both march and skirmish by his drum. [_Exeunt._

SCENE V.

ROLLANO, EULINUS _hearkening_.

ROL. O my dear lady, hast thou slain thyself?

So fairly pure, so kindly chaste, so---- [_Cries._

A Venus and Diana mix'd in one.

She ate her meat with studs of pearl, she kiss'd

With rubies, and she look'd with diamonds bright.

Fish seas, and fowl the air, hunt all the earth,

For such another bit, and lose your labour.

EUL. O, why dost thou complain?

ROL. Had she not kill'd herself, no cruel Atropos,

No fury could for pity cut her thread.

She was the loadstone of all eyes, the whetstone

Of all brains, the touchstone of all hearts! she was----

[_Cries._

EUL. O, my presaging thoughts in ugly form

Suggest some tragedy. Speak--yet stay awhile;

I know thou kill'st with speaking. Be then dumb:

Let sound ne'er give those notions airy robes.

Yet speak! despatch me; fear's as bad as death.

O, could no tongue affirm it! Is she dead?

ROL. My mistress is.

EUL. Wither, ye pleasant gardens, where she trod!

White lilies droop, and blasted daisies wink,

And weep in pearly dew! blind Vesper mourn;

Hang thy cold tears on ev'ry grassy blade!

Groan loud, ye woods, and tear your leafy hair!

Let wind and hoary frost kill every flow'r;

For she is gone who made continual May

Let foggy mists envelope sun and stars;

For she is gone who made perpetual day.

Confounded nature, stand amaz'd; dissolve

Thy rolling engines, and unbrace the seas;

Fling all into their first disorder'd lump;

For thy chief paragon, thy rich masterpiece,

The jewel for which thou didst venture all,

Is lost, is lost! And can I live to speak it?

How died she?

ROL. By a poison'd draught.

EUL. The very word poison infects my breath.

Durst thou presume to pass that coral porch?

Were not her lips sufficient antidote?

Durst thou descend through those close-winding stairs

With treacherous intent? How could thy venom

Seize on her, and not (sweeten'd) lose his virtue,

Or rather vicious quality? may toads,

Dragons, and mandrakes be thy gally-pots!

This body was a casket for the graces,

No cask for poison. With her dies all love.

Cupid may break his bow, his arrows burn,

Then quench his taper in a flood of tears.

Is she dead?

ROL. Or in a long trance?

EUL. She may revive.

I'll visit her. Art may prolong her days,

Whether she will or no. [_Exeunt._

SCENE VI.

CHORUS.

1. _Alecto, rising from the lakes_

_Of nights sad empery_,[337]

_With knotty bunch of curled snakes_

_Doth lash fair Brittany._

2. _More ghastly monster did not spring_

_From the Hibernian flood:_

_With which Morvidus_[338] _combating,_

_Of foe became his food._

3. _Shall no more shepherds in the shade_

_Sit whistling without care?_

_Shall never spear be made a spade,_

_And sword a ploughing-share?_

4. _Grant, heaven, at last that music loud_

_Of bloody Mars be still:_

_That Britain's virgins in a crowd_

_With hymns the sky may fill!_

_2d Song._

_Nor is Landora's loss_

_The least part of our mournful muse:_

_Jove, Juno for to cross,_

_This Trojan dame for bride did choose._

_Where she doth shine_

_'Bove Guendoline_,[339]

_The amazon of her days:_

_And Mercia wise_

_Law to devise._

_O, sound Landora's praise._

_There doth she shine above,_

_Clear as great Delia's horned bow,_

_Bright as the queen of love,_

_To shoot down gentle beams below._

_Sabrina, dare_

_Not to compare_

_With her most splendent rays:_

_A ring the sky_

_A gem her eye._

_O, sound Landora's praise._

FOOTNOTES:

[325] [A sort of rural dance. See a long note in Nares' "Glossary,"

1859, and Halliwell's Dictionary, _v._ Haydigee.]

[326] [This is the Scottish song which has led to the unfortunate

conjecture that the author was a native of Scotland.]

[327] _i.e._, Octaves, a musical term.

[328] _i.e._, Low as a cow does. The word frequently occurs in Roman

poetry. So in Virgil's third Georgic--

"Et vox assensu nemorum ingeminata remugit."

--_Steevens._

[329] _Mandubratius_, Mr Camden observes, is by Eutropius, Bede, and

the more modern writers called _Androgeus_, which in the British

language signifies _vir malus_, a bad man; a name of infamy fixed on

him for having been the first who betrayed his country.--Camden's

"Britannia," ii. 327, edit. 1772; Baxter's "Glossary" in _voce_.

[330] _i.e._, Spoiled, rendered unserviceable. See Cotgrave in _voce_

Desbaucher.--_Steevens._

[331] Hercules and Alexander.--_Steevens._

[332] Hannibal.--_Steevens._

[333] Cacus stole the oxen of Hercules, and, that which way they went

might not be discovered, drew them backwards into his den.--_Steevens._

[334] See Cæsar's "Commentaries," bk. v. s. 20, 21. The _Trinobantes_

were those who inhabited Middlesex and Essex. The _Cenimagnians_, says

Camden, were the same with the Iceni, whose province contained Suffolk,

Norfolk, Cambridgeshire, and Huntingdonshire. _Segontiaks_, he thinks,

were originally the Belgæ, and places them in the hundred of Holshot,

in Hampshire; the _Ancalites_ he calls those who inhabit the hundred

of Henley, in Oxfordshire; the _Bybrocks_, that of Bray, in Berkshire;

and the _Cassians_ the people of Buckinghamshire, Bedfordshire, and

Herefordshire, where the name is still preserved in the hundred of

Casbow.

[335]

"_Versis_ lugeret Græcia _fatis_."

--_Steevens._

[336] Terms of heraldry, signifying _green_ and _red_.

[337] [Dominion.]

[338] A tyrant who lost his life in encountering a monster that

destroyed great numbers of people on the Irish coast. See Geoffrey of

Monmouth, bk. iii. c. 15. The 4o reads _Morindus_.

ACT V., SCENE I.

CÆSAR, ANDROGEUS, MANDUBRATIUS, &c.

_Soldiers_.

CÆS. Thus gain we ground; yet still our foes will fight,

Whether they win or lose. With bloody drops

Our path is printed: Thames his maiden cheeks

Blush with vermillion. Nations crave our league

On every side; yet still Cassibelane braves us,

Nor will submit.

AND. Not far hence Verulam lies, his chiefest fort:

By nature guarded round with woods and fens,

By art enclosed with a ditch and rampier:

From hence we must dislodge the boar.

MAN. There are but two ways to assail this town,

Both which I know. Your parted army must

Break through both at once, and so distract

His doubtful rescues.

_Enter_ VOLUSENUS, _with_ HULACUS _prisoner_.

HUL. Draw, slaves unwilling; I dare meet my death,

And lead my leader.

VOL. You'll repent anon.

HUL. If I do ill; but not for suffering ill.

VOL. Your stoical apathy will relent, I know.

This priest I caught within a shady grove,

Devoutly kneeling at a broad oak's foot.

Now he awaits your doom.

CÆS. What God adore you?

HUL. Him whom all should serve.

CÆS. What's the moon?

HUL. Night's sun.

CÆS. What's night?

HUL. A foil to glorify the day.

CÆS. What most compendious way to happiness?

HUL. To die in a good cause.

CÆS. What is a man?

HUL. An hermaphrodite of soul and body.

CÆS. How differ they in nature?

HUL. The body hath in weight, the soul in length.

CÆS. One question more: What dangers shall I pass?

HUL. Many by land and sea, as steps to glory.

Throw Palatine on Æsquiline, on both

Heap Aventine, to raise one pyramid for a

Chair of estate, where thy advanced head,

Among those heroes pictur'd in the stars,

Orion, Perseus, Hercules, may consult

With Jove himself: but shun the senate-house.

March round about the Caspian sea; search out,

'Mong cedars tall, th' Arabian phoenix' nest;

Run counter to old Nile, till thou discover

His sacred head wrapt up in cloudy mountains;

And, rather than work fail, turn Hellespont

Out of his channel; dig that isthmus down,

Which ties great Afric--shun the senate-house.

_Be Saturn, and so thou shalt not be Tarquin._

_A Brutus strong_

_Repays in fine_

_The brutish wrong_

_To Brutus' line._

CÆS. We'll talk at leisure more. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

CASSIBELANUS, BELINUS, _&c._

CAS. No rampires keep him back: he presses forward,

Though every stamp he treads seems to conjure

The Fates from their infernal centre. None

But he durst be so bold.

BEL. Yes, when Britons lead, and Mandubrace, insulting

With naked sword, calls on the lagging soldiers;

When fierce Androgeus, with revolted nations,

Ushers his army. No way half so quick

To ruinate kingdoms as by homebred strife.

Thus, while we single fight, we perish all.

CAS. Ay, ay, those treach'rous caitiffs! rebel slaves!

O, may their country's heavy curse them sink

Below the nine-fold brazen gates of hell!

That princock[340] proud!--ah, 'twas a 'scape in policy:

I should have slain the whelps with their good sire.

Let Britain's climacterical year now run,

The series break of seventy kings: nay, let

One urn conclude our ashes and the world's.

Befall what will, in midst of horror's noise

And crackling flames, when all is lost, we'll die

With weapons in our hands, and victory scorn:

There's none that die so poor as they are born.

Faithful Belinus, let a post command

The Kentish kings to set upon his fleet,

Whilst we here bate. Four thousand charioteers,

(Such as did glide upon the Phrygian plains,

And (wheeling) double service do perform--

Both horseman's speed and footman's stable strength)

Still do remain: with these and flocking voluntaries

We'll give him once more battle. Let the captains

Enter and hear my charge.

_Enter_ CAPTAINS. _He stands on a throne._

Subjects and fellow-soldiers, we must now try

For ancient freedom or perpetual bondage:

There is no third choice. The enraged foe

(With cruel pride, proud avarice) hath spoil'd

From East to West, hunting for blood and gain.

Your wives and daughters ravish'd, ransack'd towns,

Great bellies ripp'd with lances, sprawling babes,

The spouse, about her husband's neck, run through

By the same spear. Think on these objects;

Then choose them for your lords, who spoil and burn

Whole countries, and call desolation peace.[341]

Yield, yield, that he, ennobled by our spoils,

May climb the capitol with triumphant car;

You led, fast-fetter'd, through the staring streets,

For city dames to mock your habit strange,

And fill their arras-hangings with our story.

No: Brennus' ghost forbid! who this night stood

Before my eyes, and grimly furious spake:

Shall Britain stoop to Roman rods and hatchets,

And servile tribute? will ye so defame

Your ancestors, and your successors wrong,

Heirs but of slavery? O, this day make good

The glory of so many ages pass'd

I see you are incens'd, and wish to use

Your weapons, not your ears.

ALL. To arms, to arms, to arms! we'll fight and die. [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

EULINUS _in a nightcap, unbraced. Viol, poynado._[342]

_Plays, and sings to the viol._

_So the silver-feather'd swan,_

_Both by death and colour wan,_

_Loves to sing, before she die,_

_Leaving life so willingly._

_But how can I sing a note,_

_When dead hoarseness stops my throat?_

_Or how can I play a stroke,_

_When my heart-strings are all broke?_

Come, guilty night, and with black velvet wings

Mantle me round: let melancholic thoughts

Hang all my brain with blacks, this darksome grove,

My gallery. So, all things suit my mind:

Such funeral colours please a gasping heart.

I died with thee, Landora, once; now only

Some struggling spirits are behind, to be

Laid out with most thrift on thy memory.

Where shall I first begin my last complaint,

Which must be measur'd by my glass of life?

At thee, Hirildas, slain in furious mood,

By whose help only I enjoy'd my love?

Or thee, Landora, dying for his sake,

And in thy death including mine?

Or at my country's wreck, whose surface torn

Doth for my vengeance importune the pole?

Or at myself? Ay, there is sorrow's spring.

Shall I go wand'ring, lurk in woods unknown

(A banish'd hermit), and sigh out my griefs,

Teaching the pretty birds to sing, _My dear,_

_My dear Landora?_ There to feed on acorns,

Drink the clear fountain, and consume with weeping,

Were but an easy life, an easy death:

My violent passion must have sudden vent.

Refined soul, whose odoriferous light

The damned hags stare at, and whining elves,

Thinking it heaven in hell, behold my pangs,

Pity my dying groans, and be more soft.

O, may our shadows mingle; then shall I

Envy no more those citizens above,

The ambrosian juncates of th' Olympian hall.

And all that gorgeous roof. But cowards talk.

Come, thou last refuge of a wearisome life. [_Draws his poignard._

A passport to the Elysian land, a key

To unlock my griev'd inmate. Lo! I come.

O, let this river from my eyes, this stream [_Unbuttons._

From my poor breast, beg favour of thy ghost:

O, let this lukewarm blood thy rigour steep, [_Stabs._

And mollify thy adamantine heart.

Leander-like, I swim to thee through blood:

Be thy bright eyes my Pharos, and conduct me

Through the dull night of gloomy Erebus.

Flow, flow, ye lively drops, and from my veins

Run winding to the ocean of my bliss:

Tell her my love, and, if she still shall doubt,

Swear that ye came directly from my heart.

I stay too long. [_Stabs again._] Sweet lady, give me welcome.

Though I shall pass twelve monsters, as the sun,

Or twelve Herculean labours on a row,

Yet one kind look makes all my labours sweet.

Thou fairy queen[343] of the Tartarian court,

To whom Proserpine may the apple give,

Worthier than she to warm old Pluto's bed;

See thy poor vassal welt'ring in his gore.

I faint, I faint;

I die thy martyr, as I liv'd thy priest:

Great goddess, be propitious! sweet Landora-- [_Falls and dies._

SCENE IV.

_The four Kings of Kent march over the stage. A_

_drum struck up within._ Q. ATRIUS _comes with_

CINGETORIX _prisoner_. ROLLANO _running_;

VOLUSENUS _meets him_.

ROL. What shall I do? how shall I 'scape? [_Falls for fear._

VOL. I scorn to take advantage; rise and fight.

ROL. I had rather be kill'd quickly, quickly.

VOL. Then die, as thou desirest. [_Thrusts at him._

ROL. O, let me wink first. [_Bawls aloud._

I shall never endure it. O, O, I am pepper'd and salted!

[_Exit_ VOLUSENUS. ROLLANO _crawls away_.

CASSIBELANUS, BELINUS, _&c._

CAS. O, that base fortune should great spirits damp,

And fawn on muddy slaves! That envious fate

Should ripen villany with a Syrian dew,

And blast sweet virtue with a Syrian flame!

A catalogue of mischiefs do concur:

Our Briton Hector Nennius dead; our kings,

Angry to be refus'd, sit still at home;

And then those traitors with their train augment

His huge and expert army. Nothing stops him:

Rivers nor rampiers, woods nor dangerous bogs.

On this side Thames his dismal ensigns shine.

Last, Kent's unhappy rulers are at sea

O'erthrown, and our men almost spent. Then, general,

In desperate pride and valour's scornful rage,

Let us run headlong through their armed tents,

And make their camp a shambles; so to raise

Our lofty tombs upon their slaughter'd heaps.

BEL. Nay, rather first let us parley for peace.

CAS. Ye country gods and nymphs, who Albion love:

Old father Neptune: all ye powers divine:

Witness my loyal care! If human strength,

Courage and policy could a kingdom save,

We did our best; but discord, child of hell,

Numbers of train-men, and each captain pick'd

Out of a province, make us bow or break.

In vain we strive, when deities do frown;

When destinies push, Atlas himself comes down.

_Enter_ COMIUS.

BEL. No mediator is so fit as Comius:

And here's the man.

COM. Do not the dangers which

Environ you call for a good conclusion?

Which I wish, as friend to both sides.

CAS. No, Comius. There is more behind than Cæsar

Hath overrun: our charioteers still drive;

Our harness still is worn. Through woods and lakes

We'll tire his dainty soldiers; then set fire

On towns, and sacrifice ourselves, our wives,

Our goods and cattle, in one public flame,

That wind may blow our ashes in his face.

COM. So shall dead el'ments curse your causeless fury:

Rather conclude some friendly peace.

CAS. Thus far we hear you. If with honour'd terms

And royal looks he will accept our faith,

We will obey, but never serve.

COM. I'll undertake as much. [_Exeunt._

SCENE V.

ANDROGEUS, TENANTIUS.

AND. Thus civil war by me and factious broils

Deface this goodly land: I am reveng'd;

The cause (Eulinus) dead, my anger dies.

He is our uncle, and in danger's mouth;

Both claim relenting pity. Whom peace made

A rampant lion, war hath made a lamb.

Cæsar shall not proceed, for private ends,

To captivate our isle, whose clamorous curse

Doth knock, I know, at heaven's star-nail'd gates:

For that Jove's bird, imp'd[344] with our plumes, o'erflew

The ocean's wall, to seek her prey in Britain.

TEN. Ay, we have made a rod for our own backs:

Fetters of gold are fetters. No gap worse

To let destruction in by, than to call

A foreign aid who, having seen our weakness,

And tasted once the fatness of our land,

Is not so easily thrust out as admitted.

Such medicine is worse than the malady:

Fretting the bowels of our kingdom.

AND. I know their hatred just; and here resign

All my birthright to thee, my second self.

I must forsake my country's sight, and seek

New fortunes with this emperor, in hope

To be rais'd up by his now rising wheel.

TEN. O, do not so, dear brother! so to part

Were to divide one individual soul.

Nor think me so ambitious. I can live

A private life, and see a regal crown

With no more envy than I see the sun

Glitter above me. Let not Lud's two sons

Be parted by a sea. I hold your presence

At higher price than a whole kingdom's pomp.

Keep then your right; like those admired twins,

Let us rejoice, mourn, live, and die together.

AND. You shall a sceptre gain.

TEN. And lose a brother.

AND. Bear you the sovereign power of this land.

TEN. A body politic must on two legs stand:

I'll bear a part, so to diminish envy.

AND. I must away, and shun the people's eye.

TEN. If to yourself unkind, be kind to me;

For my sake stay at home; why will you fly?

Think you a stepdame soil gives sweeter sap?

AND. Ay, for trees transplanted do more goodly grow.

TEN. And I'll count men but stocks, when they do so.

AND. I am resolv'd, all troubles brought asleep,

To leave you with a parting kiss.

TEN. And by that kiss

May I transfuse my soul or quite expire.

Brothers have often for a kingdom fought;

We strive to lose it. This is holy strife.

But here I vow, if e'er that sacred lace

Shall gird my temples, Rome must keep her bounds,

Or fish for tribute in the dreadful deep.

SCENE VI.

CÆSAR, MANDUBRATIUS.

AND. Let gracious favour smooth war's rugged brow;

Cassibelane will compound; all rage must end.

We choose you umpire for a friendly close.

CÆS. It is my glory to end all with peace;

And for that cause I Comius sent in haste

For to conduct him hither.

TEN. This trump gives warning of the king's approach.

CASSIBELANUS, COMIUS, LANTONUS.

CAS. Fate, and no fault of mine, makes me appear

To yield, as far as honour gives me leave.

CÆS. Hail, valorous prince! disdain not this ingrafting

Into Rome's empire, whose command encloses

The whole Levant, and whose large shadow hides

The triple-bounded earth and bellowing seas.

CAS. We shall observe your will, so you impose

A league--no yoke. [_They shake hands._

CÆS. Thus we determine: that crown still shall stand:

Reign as the total monarch of this isle,

Till death unkings you. 'Twere, Androgeus, best

You in our train kept honourable place;

And let Tenantius wear the royal wreath.

You must forgive the towns which did revolt,

Nor seek revenge on Trinobants, but let

Young Mandubrace possess his father's princedom.

CAS. Be all wrongs drench'd in Lethe.

AND. Pardon my rash attempts.

MAN. Count me your loyal friend.

[CASSIBELANUS _embraces_ ANDROGEUS _and_

MANDUBRATIUS.

CÆS. In sign of league you shall us pledges give,

And yearly pay three thousand pound of silver

Unto our treasury. So let these decrees

Be straight proclaim'd through Troynovant, whose tower[345]

Shall be more fairly built at my charge, as

A lasting monument of our arrival.

CAS. All shall be done, renowned prince, whose worth,

Unparallel'd both as a friend and foe,

We do admire.

Accept this surcoat, starrified with pearls

And diamonds, such as our own shores breed.

CÆS. And you receive this massy cup of gold,

Love's earnest and memorial of this day.

By this suppose our senate calls you friend.

[_They sit together._

LAN. Now time, best oracle of oracles,

Father of truth, the true sense doth suggest

Of Dian's answer.

The lion and the eagle do design

The Briton and the Roman states, whose arms

Were painted with those animals; both fierce,

Weary at last, conclude: the semicircles,

First letters of the leaders' names (we see)

Are join'd in true love's endless figure.

Both come of Trojan race, both nobly bold,

Both matchless captains on one throne behold.

CÆS. Now the Tarpeian rock o'erlooks the world,

Her empire bounded only by the ocean;

And boundless fame beats on the starry pole.

So Danow, crawling from a mountain's side,

Wider and deeper grows, and like a serpent

Or pyramid revers'd, improves his bigness

As well as length; till, viewing countries large,

And fed with sixty rivers, his wide mouth

On th' Euxine sea-nymph gapes, and fear doth stir,

Whether he will disgorge or swallow her.

CAS. Since the great guide of all, Olympus' king,

Will have the Romans his viceroys on earth;

Since the red fatal eyes of crow-black night

Fling their malignant influence on our state;

_Since Britain must submit; it was her fame,_

_None but a Julius Cæsar could her tame._

[_While trumpets sound_, ANDROGEUS _and_ TENANTIUS

_embracing, take leave. All depart._

SCENE VII.

CHORUS.

_1st Song._

_Come, fellow-bards, and sing with cheer;_

_Since dreadful alarums we shall no more hear._

_Come, lovely peace, our saint divine,_

_Olive and laurel do love for to twine._

_The Graces and Muses, and nymphs in a round:_

_Let voice beat the air, and feet beat the ground._

_So hell's black image chas'd away,_

_Eos doth dandle the goldy-lock'd day;_

_So, Bruma[346] banish'd all forlorn,_

_Cupid and Flora the spring do adorn:_

_And so, the grim fury of Mars laid in grave,_

_A merrier ending doth friendly peace crave._

_2d Song._

_The sky is glad, that stars above_

_Do give a brighter splendour:_

_The stars unfold their flaming gold,_

_To make the ground more tender:_

_The ground doth send a fragrant smell,_

_That air may be the sweeter:_

_The air doth charm the swelling seas_

_With pretty chirping metre:_

_The sea with rivers' water doth_

_Feed[347] plants and flowers dainty:_

_The planets do yield their fruitful seed,_

_That beasts may live in plenty:_

_The beasts doth give both food and cloth,_

_That men high Jove may honour:_

_And so the world runs merrily round,_

_When peace doth smile upon her._

_O then, then O! O then, then O!_

_This jubilee last for ever:_

_That foreign spite or civil fight_

_Our quiet trouble never._ [_Exeunt._

MERCURY _reducing the ghosts of_ CAMILLUS _and_

BRENNUS.

CAM. How bravely Cæsar pass'd the angry main!

BREN. How bravely was he back repuls'd again!

CAM. How did he wheel his sword in Nennius' face!

BREN. How did he lose his sword, and fly apace!

CAM. How did again his army fill your coast!

BREN. Ay, when our princes did conduct his host.

CAM. How did they pierce through Isis' dangerous flood!

BREN. But made her swell, and bankrupt[348] with their blood.

CAM. Mirror of captains, Julius, still hath won.

BREN. But we may justly brag of two for one.

CAM. Confess, our valorous race hath now repaid

The Allian massacre[349] and our city's flame:

See how they yield, and yearly tribute pay.

BREN. No, proud dictator, both do weary stand

On equal terms: both wish a peaceful league.

But if they shall oppress, know, generous spirits

Will break this compact, like a spider's web.

MER. Jove's will is finish'd: and, though Juno frown,

That no more Trojan blood shall dye the stage,

The world's fourth empire Britain doth embrace.

The thunder-bearer with a Janus look

At once views ruddy morn and cloudy west:

Her wings, display'd o'er this terrestrial egg,

Will shortly hatch an universal peace;

For Jove intends a favour to the world.

It now remains that you two martial wights

Cease from your braving one another's worth:

You must be friends at last. The close is sweet,

When, after tumults, hearts and hands do meet. [_Exeunt._

_Nec lusisse pudet, sed non incidere ludum._

FOOTNOTES:

[339] The wife of Locrine. See Geoffrey of Monmouth, bk. ii. c. 4.