University of Virginia Library

SCENE the Temple.
Enter Druids Singing; Bonduca, Claudia 2d. Daughter, Venutius, Nennius, Comes, Hengo, &c.
Bond.
You Powerful Gods of Britain, hear our Prayers.
Hear us, you Great Revengers: And this Day
Take Pity from our Swords; Doubt from our Valours:
Double the sad Remembrance of our Wrongs
In every Breast: The Vengeance due to those
Make Infinite and Endless.
Rise from the Dust, the Reliques of the Dead;
Whose Noble Deeds our Holy Druids Sing.
O Rise, ye Valiant Bones; let not Base Earth
Oppress your Honour, whilst the Pride of Rome
Treads on your Stocks, and wipes out all your Stories.

Ven.
Thou great Tyranes, whom your Sacred Priests,
Arm'd with their Dreadful Thunder, play'd on high;
Above the rest of the Immortal Gods.
Send thy Consuming Fires, and deadly Bolts,
And shoot 'em home: Stick in each Roman Heart,
A Fear fit for Confusion. Blast their Spirits:
Dwell in 'em to Destruction: Through their Phalanx,
Strike as thou strik'st a proud Tree;
Shake their Bodies; make their Strengths totter,
And their hopless Fortunes Unroot:
And Reel to Rome.

Claud.
O thou God! If ever to thy Justice,
Insulting Wrongs and Ravishments of Women,
With Virgin Innocence have Access: Now hear me;
Now snatch that Thunder up: Now on these Romans,
Despisers of thy Power, and of thy Altars,
Revenge thy self: Take to thy Killing Anger,
To make thy great Work full; thy Justice spoken:
And Utter Rooting from this Blessed Isle,
Of what Rome is or has been.

Bond.
Give more Incense;
The Gods are Deaf or Drowsie. No happy Flame
Rises to raise our Thoughts: Pour on.

2d Daugh.
See Heaven, and all your Powers that guide us:
See, and shame we kneel so long for Pity
At your alters; since 'tis no light Oblation,
That you look for: No Incense Offering;
We will hang our Eyes: And as we wear
These Stones with Hourly Weeping;
So will we melt your Pow'rs into Compassion.

Hengo.
This Tear for Prosutagus. My brave Father,
Ye God's! Now think on Rome: This for my Mother,
And all her Miseries: O see and Save us.

[A Smoak from the Altar.
Bond.
The first takes!

Car.

[A Flame arises.
Bon.
It flames out.

Car.
Now sing ye Druids:
Sing, Sing ye Druids! All your Voices Raise,
To Celebrate Divine Andate's Praise.
Sing, Sing Divine Andate's Praise.
Divine Andate! President of War,
The Fortune of the Day Declare.
Shall we to the Romans yield:
Or shall each arm that wields a Spear,
Strike it through a Massy Shield;
And Dye with Roman Blood the Field?

[Thunder here.
Oracle.
—Much will be spill'd.

1 & 4 Dr.

Vers. & Cho.

Bond.
'Tis out agen.

Car.
They've given us leave to Fight yet:
We ask no more; the rest hangs on our Resolutions.
Tempt Her no more.

Bond.
I wou'd know further, Cousin.

Car.
Her hidden meaning dwells in our Endeavours;
Our Valours are our best Gods. Come, let's march.
This Day the Romans gain no more Ground here
Than what his Body lies in.

Bond.
On then my Soldiers;
Thy Words have made me certain of Success.
For when brave Caratach does lead the way,
The Britains cannot fail to win the Day.

[Exeunt omnes præter Comus and Venutius.
Com.
They must not then have Boys to fight their Battles.

Ven.
What says Comus?

Com.
I said,
Whilst Women Rule, and Boys Command in War,
We've askt the Gods what they will never grant us.
Nor need Rome triumph for a Victory
(O my Prophetick Fears) so cheaply purchased.

Ven.
A Victory, and by the Romans gotten?
Where's then the Courage of our generous Britains,
So lately try'd in the successful Battles?
O all ye Gods! Can there be more in Men?
More daring Spirits? Still they make good their Fortunes,
And let the Romans know, this little Isle
It self a World is, more than that they've conquer'd.

Com.
And let the bold Venutius know, and tell it
His proud vain-glorious Heart, e're the Sun sets
Poor Britain veils her Glories in everlasting Darkness.

Ven.
O no, she'll yet raise her victorious Head,
Look o're the Rugged Alps, and make Rome tremble.
Methinks I see the big War moving forwards:
Heark how they shout to th'Battle! how the Air
Totters and reels, and rends apieces
With the huge vollied Clamours! Hear the Romans
Tearing the Earth ith' the bitter Pangs of Death.
The Britains there (Comus, methinks I see it)
I'th' face of Danger pressing on to Conquest.

Com.
Here the unhappy Queen
(Hard Chance of War) by common Hands
Stript of her Majesty, and to the Roman General
Led a Captive; there her two beauteous
Daughters made the Slaves of Lust and Scorn
Methinks I do behold that Heavenly Form,
An Abstract of all Goodness,
The poor much pitied Claudia.

Ven.
Ha! what say'st thou?
By Heaven, I fear thou art about to utter
Something the basest Roman Slave wou'd start at!
Shall she, my Claudia, say'st thou? But we trifle;
And sure thou didst it only to whet my Courage,
Of its self apt and prone to execute.

Com.
Be it so then. See who dares most to day
For Love and for thy Claudia, Thou or I.

Ven.
Now thou'rt brave, and I shall truly love thee:
Sound all your dreadful Instruments of War,
Till Romans best Sons start at the Warlike Noise.
Come on, and whilst we thus together move,
I'll shew Rome how to fight, Thee how to love.

[Exeunt.
Enter Suetonius, Petillius, and Roman Officers.
Suet.
Now my brave Country-men, the time is come
To gain a Conquest, or a Grave, in Britain.
The Enemy, my Fellow-Soldiers, wait us.
Are ye all ready?

Pet.
All our Troops attend, Sir.

Suet.
To bid you fight is needless, you are Romans,
The Name will fight it self. To tell you
Who you go to fight against, his Power and Nature,
But loss of Time: Go on in full Assurance;
Draw your Swords as daring
And as confident as Justice.
Go on, I say, valiant and wise; rule Heaven;
And all ye great Aspects attend 'em.
Do but blow upon this Enemy, who but that
We want Foes, cannot deserve that Name;
And like a Mist, a lazy Fog before your burning
Valours, you'll find him fly to nothing. This is all;
We have Swords, and are the Sons of Ancient Romans,
Heirs to their endless Valours; fight and conquer.

Pet.
That Man who loves not this day,
And hugs not in his Arms the Noble Danger,
May he die fameless and forgot!

Suet.
Sufficient.
Up to your Troops, and let your Drums beat Thunder;
March close, and sudden as a Tempest; keep your Phalanx
Sure lin'd and piec'd together; your Spears forward,
And so march like a moving Fort; e're Night shall come
Britain shall give us Graves, or yield to Rome.

[Exeunt omnes.
Enter Caratach, Nennius, and Soldiers.
Nen.
The Romans are advanc'd; from yonder Hills
We may behold them, Caratach.

Car.
Let's thither.
[Moves forward.
I see the Dust fly; now I see the Body:
Observe 'em, Nennius; by Heav'n a handsome Body!
And of a few, strongly and wisely jointed.
Suetonius is a Soldier.

Nen.
As I take it,
That's he that Gallops by their Regiments,
Viewing their Preparation.

Car.
Very likely.
He shews no less than General; see how bravely
The Body moves; and in the Head, how proudly
The Captains stick like Plumes! He comes on apace:
Good Nennius, go hasten my Brave Lieutenant;
Bring on the first square Body to oppose 'em;
The Queen move next with hers, and wheel about,
So gain their Backs, in which I'll Lead
The Van Guard. We shall have bloody Crowns
This day, I see by it; haste thee, good Nennius,
I'll follow instantly. How close they March,
As if they grew together: no place but lin'd alike,
Sure from Oppression.
They will not change this Figure.
We must Charge 'em, and Charge 'em home,
They'll never totter else.
Heark! I hear our Musick, and must attend it.
Hold, good Sword, but this day, and hereafter
I'll make a Relick of thee for young Soldiers
To come like Pilgrims to, and kiss for Conquests.
Oh, Great Andate, on thy Soldier smile,
And drive these Romans from thy British Isle.

Enter Suetonius, Petilius, &c.
Suet.
O bravely fought! Honour till now, ne'er shew'd
Her Glorious Face in the Field. Like Lyon Soldi'rs,
You've held your Heads up this day.
Where's young Junius?

Pet.
Gone to Heav'n, I think, Sir; I saw him fall.

Suet.
His worth go with him, for he was a Soldier.
See he has all the Noble Rites of Funeral.
Bravely he fought, my Friends, bravely he fell.
And since i'th' bloody Field, he sought a Grave,
Let Warlike Instruments attend him thither.
Heark, They come on again! Charge, Charge my Soldiers.

Enter Caratach, Claudia, Venutius, Bonvica, and Hengo.
Car.
Charge 'em i'th' Flank: Oh, you have play'd the Fool,
The Fool extreamly!

Bond.
Why, Cousin?

Car.
The Woman Fool: Why did you give the word
Unto the Carts to Change down, and our People
In gross before the Enemy? We pay for it: our own
Swords cut our Throats.
Why do you offer to Command?
Why do ye meddle in Men's Affairs?

Bond.
I'll help all yet, my Soldier.

[Exeunt.
Car.
Go home and Spin.
Now comes the Tempest on:
[A shout within.
Oh Woman! Woman! At the first design'd
A Plague, and sure Destruction to Man-kind.

[Exeunt.
An Alarm. Enter Suetonius, Petilius, &c.
Suet.
Close my brave Fellows; Honourable Romans:
The World cannot Redeem 'em, they are ours.
Charge close, Petilius haste, one sudden blow
Must be the Britains certain overthrow.

[Exeunt.
Enter Bonduca, Venutius, Claudia, Bonvica, &c.
Bond.
Whither fly you? Stay you shames of Britain:
Back, back ye Cowards; Oh ye fearful Hares!
Doves in your Anger? Will you leave your Queen?
Leave her thus desolate with her hapless Children,
To Roman Rape and Fury?

Enter Caratach, and Hengo.
Car.
Fly ye Buzzards, ye have Wings enough I find.
On, Woman, Woman, thou hast lost all!

Bond.
Forgive me, Noble Caratach.

Car.
May Heaven forgive you; hasten to your Castle,
There's your last Refuge; farewel, wretched Queen.
Heark, how the Romans ring
[Shout.
Our Knells! Away.

[Exeunt Bonduca, &c.
Hengo.
Good Uncle, let me go too;
I'm frighted at this noise; it sounds, methinks,
Like Thunder.

Car.
No, my Boy:
Thy Fortune's mine, and I will never leave thee:
Thou might'st have been an Heir to Britain's
Crown; but that the ill Conduct of thy Mother lost that.
But heark, the Enemy approaches near;
We must be gone, my Boy; but Heaven knows where:
For Britain now submits to Roman Powers,
And nothing but our lengths of Earth are ours.

[Exeunt.