The Dawn in Britain :: :: University of Virginia Library

Though lie, in all Gaul's river-mouths, Rome's navy,
The legions come not yet. Is who called Cæsar,
Most wretched wight, of all which dwell in Rome.
Lives Claudius, aye, adread of his own death;
Of every footstep! of each passing voice!
Under his lattice, made like iron cage.
He all day reads men's faces, fears to eat,
To walk, to sit, in strong barred walls, to sleep;

188

Lest, from the empty air, fall some new death.
And lately, in that sedition of Scribonius,
Were even his tottering private steps waylaid.
Whence now hath Claudius guard of German soldiers;
That fence him, day and night, with barbare spears.

Called to his cubicle, princes of the Senate,
Cæsar begins, yet trembling, to enquire,
What deem they? and stands it, in his might, depose
The imperial purple; which, unsought for, laid
Was on his shoulders. He, at least, would send,
Certain his freedmen, to explore the mind
Of dukes and legions, in each Roman Province.
Hardly persuaded, suffered doting Claudius,
Part, to Britannic war, his legate Aulus.