 | The Dawn in Britain |  |
In this, three hundred horse arrived to Romans!
By hap. Had they, which parted were, from Sabine,
Night-time, in thirteen ships, on the dark seas;
Holding no certain course, sith, to Longport,
Come in: whence ridden, hastily, upland forth,
Aye following footprints of the forepast legions;
They, midst great woods, in mist, (which seemed on those
High antique boughs to seize,) were, two days, lost.
By hap. Had they, which parted were, from Sabine,
Night-time, in thirteen ships, on the dark seas;
Holding no certain course, sith, to Longport,
Come in: whence ridden, hastily, upland forth,
Aye following footprints of the forepast legions;
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High antique boughs to seize,) were, two days, lost.
But seen hill-beacon-flames, they made new speed;
And resting only at dawn, to bait their steeds,
Raught to this field; whereas, they suddenly, fetched
A compass, issue, at the blue Britons' backs!
Now on valorous Dobuni, fall their rushing spears:
Whose prince, Bodvocos, on that part, uneath,
The legions' brunt, sustains; with few caterfs.
And resting only at dawn, to bait their steeds,
Raught to this field; whereas, they suddenly, fetched
A compass, issue, at the blue Britons' backs!
Now on valorous Dobuni, fall their rushing spears:
Whose prince, Bodvocos, on that part, uneath,
The legions' brunt, sustains; with few caterfs.
Were, by whose coming, the spirits of labouring Romans,
Refreshed: so that did make foot-weary soldiers,
Many against few, new onset, on blue Britons.
On what part, hostile to Cunobelin's house,
Of Belges' league, Vigantios, faintly, fights;
(Who, traitorous nephew of old Commius, is
Now of intelligence with false Cogidubnos.)
And they recoil now, first, of all blue Britons!
Before a foreign foe, withdrawing foot:
Turned then their backs, yield Britain's foster-earth!
For was Cunobelin's martial son far-off;
Who makes wide breaches, with his bloody cart,
In Roman ranks, in sight of blue caterfs.
Refreshed: so that did make foot-weary soldiers,
Many against few, new onset, on blue Britons.
On what part, hostile to Cunobelin's house,
Of Belges' league, Vigantios, faintly, fights;
(Who, traitorous nephew of old Commius, is
Now of intelligence with false Cogidubnos.)
And they recoil now, first, of all blue Britons!
Before a foreign foe, withdrawing foot:
Turned then their backs, yield Britain's foster-earth!
For was Cunobelin's martial son far-off;
Who makes wide breaches, with his bloody cart,
In Roman ranks, in sight of blue caterfs.
Fight, with sharp breast-pikes and their very teeth,
His long-maned steeds, and with their brazen hooves;
Gainst plate-clad soldiers, mounting on their shields.
The king seeks, everywhere, the Romans' duke;
Desirous, with his javelin, him to pierce.
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Gainst plate-clad soldiers, mounting on their shields.
The king seeks, everywhere, the Romans' duke;
Desirous, with his javelin, him to pierce.
But when a new great clamour marked the sire;
And empty scythe-carts, drawn of frighted steeds,
Come from far field; he hastily gathered bands,
Of spears, strong manhood of the Isle upleads.
Headlong, outhurling darts, drives Togodumnos;
Horrid his glittering battle-chariots,
With enemies' nodding jowls and spouting blood!
And where, most, din rings, of man-slaying bronze,
Rush his shrill-whirling scythe-wheels; and now fall,
On, triple, stedfast bronze-clad Romans' front!
Shudders Earth's breast, with tumult terrible,
Of them that give and receive, wounds and death:
Neighings and prancings, rushing of strong steeds!
And empty scythe-carts, drawn of frighted steeds,
Come from far field; he hastily gathered bands,
Of spears, strong manhood of the Isle upleads.
Headlong, outhurling darts, drives Togodumnos;
Horrid his glittering battle-chariots,
With enemies' nodding jowls and spouting blood!
And where, most, din rings, of man-slaying bronze,
Rush his shrill-whirling scythe-wheels; and now fall,
On, triple, stedfast bronze-clad Romans' front!
Shudders Earth's breast, with tumult terrible,
Of them that give and receive, wounds and death:
Neighings and prancings, rushing of strong steeds!
After him, hurl blue footmen, six caterfs;
Running with immense brunt! whose shielded ranks,
Like surging billow, that, now, kicks the shore,
And casts the pebbles forth, fall on thick Romans:
But, as the surge ebbs, soon, is spent their force!
Running with immense brunt! whose shielded ranks,
Like surging billow, that, now, kicks the shore,
And casts the pebbles forth, fall on thick Romans:
But, as the surge ebbs, soon, is spent their force!
Was then, ran Gorran, who the king's cup bears,
At Verulam; and brake through much battle-press:
So, swift-foot, came to the Dumnonian bands;
And prudent Morag finds, son to Duneda.
That valorous, having, now, much Gaulish horse
Repulsed; to noble Kowain leaves, sustain
The battle, with his strength of blue caterfs;
And hastes, where Gorran shows him, with swift scythe-carts,
And succour of light runners, hurling javelins;
And taking, with him, other three caterfs,
Which he reserved, apart, with cries, they pass.
At Verulam; and brake through much battle-press:
So, swift-foot, came to the Dumnonian bands;
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That valorous, having, now, much Gaulish horse
Repulsed; to noble Kowain leaves, sustain
The battle, with his strength of blue caterfs;
And hastes, where Gorran shows him, with swift scythe-carts,
And succour of light runners, hurling javelins;
And taking, with him, other three caterfs,
Which he reserved, apart, with cries, they pass.
Men marvel see run, yonder, from the wains;
Where, ere, had their winged shafts, Batavians pierced,
A furious scour of women-warriors!
And shriek those, as they run, unto their men,
Die glorious! and shine arms, in their white hands:
And even, of some, the virile knees, compress
Swift steeds! which those had caught, of broken carts.
Other, fleet-foot, knit madding wounded horse,
With wain-chains, and with reins of gravelled chariots;
And given them, of a certain herb, to eat;
With new main cries, they chace more furious forth!
Where, ere, had their winged shafts, Batavians pierced,
A furious scour of women-warriors!
And shriek those, as they run, unto their men,
Die glorious! and shine arms, in their white hands:
And even, of some, the virile knees, compress
Swift steeds! which those had caught, of broken carts.
Other, fleet-foot, knit madding wounded horse,
With wain-chains, and with reins of gravelled chariots;
And given them, of a certain herb, to eat;
With new main cries, they chace more furious forth!
Those fallen, with great head, on a triple legion,
Tread Romans down; and burst their foremost rank:
Whose dukes behold those wifemen, in amaze!
Deeming them Scythians, one-papped women-warriors;
Women, that smitten, rise up, from the earth;
And desperately contend, again, to death.
Tread Romans down; and burst their foremost rank:
Whose dukes behold those wifemen, in amaze!
Deeming them Scythians, one-papped women-warriors;
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And desperately contend, again, to death.
Beyond them, hurl those ensigns, and the squadrons
Of Morag, with dread shout! With fury, invade
They, Romans' long ranged front; and roll in blood.
To other part, then passed king Togodumnos.
Of Morag, with dread shout! With fury, invade
They, Romans' long ranged front; and roll in blood.
To other part, then passed king Togodumnos.
Who fight, sith dawn; and yet they taste no meat,
Gin languish; and look Britons oft and Romans,
On the sun's course! Prayed the sire Togodumnos,
Then Belin, haste his setting; or infuse,
In Briton steeds and warriors, a new force!
Or, else, might soon arrive Caratacus.
And, with that thought, the warlord sends out scouts,
Eastward, to an hill-ground, which looks far forth.
Gin languish; and look Britons oft and Romans,
On the sun's course! Prayed the sire Togodumnos,
Then Belin, haste his setting; or infuse,
In Briton steeds and warriors, a new force!
Or, else, might soon arrive Caratacus.
And, with that thought, the warlord sends out scouts,
Eastward, to an hill-ground, which looks far forth.
| The Dawn in Britain | |