 | The Tragedie of Bonduca |  |
Scæna Quarta.
Enter Swetonius, Junius, Decius, Demetrius, Curius, and Souldiers: Bonduca, two daughters, and Nennius, above. Drum and Colours.65
Bring up the Catapults and shake the wall,
we will not be out-brav'd thus.
Nen.
Shake the earth,
ye cannot shake our souls. Bring up your Rams,
and with their armed heads, make the Fort totter,
ye do but rock us into death.
Exit Nennius.
Jun.
See Sir,
see the Icenian Queen in all her glory
from the strong battlements proudly appearing,
as if she meant to give us lashes.
Dec.
Yeeld, Queen.
Bond.
I am unacquainted with that language, Roman.
Swet.
Yeeld, honour'd Lady, and expect our mercie,
Exit Decius.
we love thy noblenesse.
Bond.
I thank ye, ye say well;
but mercie and love are sins in Rome and hell.
Swet.
Ye cannot scape our strength; ye must yeeld, Ladie,
ye must adore and fear the power of Rome.
Bond.
If Rome be earthly, why should any knee
with bending adoration worship her?
She's vitious; and your partiall selves confesse,
aspires the height of all impietie:
therefore 'tis fitter I should reverence
the thatched houses where the Britains dwell
in carelesse mirth, where the blest houshold gods
see nought but chaste and simple puritie.
'Tis not high power that makes a place divine,
not that the men from gods derive their line.
But sacred thoughts in holy bosoms stor'd,
make people noble, and the place ador'd.
Swet.
Beat the wall deeper.
Bond.
Beat it to the center,
we will not sink one thought.
Swet.
I'll make ye.
Bond.
No.
2. Dau.
O mother, these are fearfull hours: speak gently
Enter Petillius.
to these fierce men, they will afford ye pitie.
Bond.
Pitie? thou fearful girl; 'tis for those wretches
that miserie makes tame. Wouldst thou live lesse?
Wast not thou born a Princesse? Can my blood,
and thy brave fathers spirit, suffer in thee
so base a separation from thy self,
as mercie from these Tyrants? Thou lov'st lust sure,
and long'st to prostitute thy youth and beautie
to common slaves for bread. Say they had mercie;
the divel a relenting conscience:
the lives of Kings rest in their Diadems,
which to their bodies lively souls do give,
and ceasing to be Kings, they cease to live.
Show such another fear, and—
I'll sling thee to their furie.
Swet.
He is dead then?
Petill.
I think so certainly; yet all my means, Sir,
even to the hazzard of my life—
Swet.
No more:
wee must not seem to mourn here.
Enter Decius.
Dec.
There's a breach made,
is it, your will we charge, Sir?
Swet.
Once more mercie,
mercie to all that yeeld.
Bond.
I scorn to answer:
Speak to him girle; and hear thy sister.
1. Daugh.
Generall,
hear me, and mark me well, and look upon me
directly in my face, my womans face,
whose onely beautie is the hate it bears ye;
see with thy narrowest eyes, thy sharpest wishes,
into my soul, and see what there inhabits;
see if one fear, one shadow of a terrour,
one palenesse dare appear but from my anger,
to lay hold on your mercies. No, ye fools,
poor Fortunes fools, we were not born for triumphs,
to follow your gay sports, and fill your slaves
with hoots and acclamations.
Petill.
Brave behaviour.
1 Daugh.
The children of as great as Rome, as noble,
our names before her, and our deeds her envie;
must we gild ore your Conquest, make your State,
that is not fairly strong, but fortunate?
No, no, ye Romanes, we have ways to scape ye,
to make yee poor again, indeed our prisoners,
and stick our triumphs full.
Petill.
's death, I shall love her.
1 Daugh.
To torture ye with suffering, like our slaves;
to make ye curse our patience, wish the world
were lost again, to win us onely, and esteem
the end of all ambitions.
Bond.
Do ye wonder?
we'll make our monuments in spite of fortune,
in spight of all your Eagles wings: we'll work
a pitch above ye; and from our height we'll stoop
as fearlesse of your bloody fears; and fortunate,
as if we prey'd on heartlesse doves.
Swet.
Strange stiffnesse.
Decius, go charge the breach.
Exit Decius.
Bond.
Charge it home, Romane,
we shall deceive thee else. Where's Nennius?
Enter Nennius.
Nen.
They have made a mighty breach.
Bond.
Stick in thy body,
and make it good but half an hour.
Nen.
I'll do it.
1 Daugh.
And then be sure to die.
Nen.
It shall go hard else.
Bond.
Fare well with all my heart; we shall meet yonder,
where few of these must come.
Nen.
Gods take thee, Lady.
Exit Nennius.
Bond.
Bring up the swords, and poison.
Enter one with swords, and a great cup.
2 Daugh.
O my fortune!
Bond.
How, how, ye whore?
2 Daugh.
Good mother, nothing to offend ye.
Bond.
Here, wench:
behold us, Romanes.
Swet.
Mercy yet.
Bond.
No talking:
puff; there goes all your pitie. Come, short prayers,
and let's dispatch the businesse: you begin,
shrink not; I'll see ye do 't.
2 Daugh.
O gentle mother,
O Romanes, O my heart; I dare not.
Swet.
Woman, woman,
unnatural woman.
2 Daugh.
O perswade her, Romanes:
alas, I am young, and would live. Noble mother,
can ye kill that ye gave life? are my yeers
fit for destruction?
Swet.
Yeeld, and be a Queen still,
66
Bond.
Ye talk: come, hold it,
and put it home.
1 Daugh.
Fie, sister, fie,
what would you live to be?
Bond.
A whore still.
2 Daugh.
Mercie.
Swet.
Hear her, thou wretched woman.
2 Daugh.
Mercie, mother:
O whither will you send me? I was once
your darling, your delight.
Bond.
O gods,
fear in my family? do it, and nobly.
2 Daugh.
O do not frown then.
1 Daugh.
Do it, worthy sister:
't is nothing, 't is a pleasure; well go with ye.
2 Daugh.
O if I knew but whither.
1 Daugh.
To the blessed,
where we shall meet our father.
Swet.
Woman.
Bond.
Talk not.
1 Daugh.
Where nothing but true joy is.
Bond.
That's a good wench, mine own sweet girl; put it close to thee.
2 Daugh.
O comfort me still, for heavens sake.
1 Daugh.
Where eternal
our youths are, and our beauties; where no Wars come,
nor lustful slaves to ravish us.
2 Daugh.
That steels me:
a long farewel to this world.
Bond.
Good: I'll help thee.
1 Daugh.
The next is mine.
Shew me a Romane Lady in all your stories,
dare do this for her honour: they are cowards.
eat coals like compell'd Cats: your great Saint Lucrece
di'd not for honour; Tarquin topt her well,
and mad she could not hold him, bled.
Petill.
By—
I am in love: I would give an hundred pound now
but to lie with this womans behaviour. O the devil.
1 Daugh.
Ye shall see me example. All your Rome,
if I were proud, and lov'd ambition;
if I were lustful, all your ways of pleasure;
if I were greedie, all the wealth ye conquer—
Bond.
Make haste.
1 Daugh.
I will. Could not intice to live
but two short hours this frailty: would ye learn
how to die bravely, Romanes, to fling off
this case of flesh, lose all your cares for ever?
live as we have done, well, and fear the gods,
hunt Honour, and not Nations with your swords,
keep your mindes humble, your devotions high;
so shall ye learn the noblest part, to die.
Bond.
I come, wench; to ye all Fates hang-men; you
that ease the aged destinies, and cut
the threds of Kingdoms, as they draw 'em: here,
here's a draught would ask no lesse then Cæsar
to pledge it for the glories sake.
Cur.
Great Lady.
Swet.
Make up your own conditions.
Bond.
So we will.
Swet.
Stay.
Dem.
Stay.
Swet.
Be any thing.
Bond.
A Saint, Swetonius.
when thou shalt fear, and die like a slave. Ye fools,
ye should have ti'd up death first, when ye conquer'd,
ye sweat for us in vain else: see him here,
he's ours still, and our friend; laughs at your pities;
and we command him with as easie reins
as do our enemies. I feel the poison.
Poor vanquish'd Romanes, with what matchlesse tortures
could I now rack ye? But I pitie ye,
desiring to die quiet: nay, so much
I hate to prosecute my victory,
that I will give ye counsel ere I die.
If you will keep your Laws and Empire whole,
place in your Romane flesh a Britain soul.
Enter Decius.
Swet.
Desperate and strange.
Dec.
'T is won, Sir, and the Britains
all put to th'sword.
Swet.
Give her fair Funeral;
she was truely noble, and a Queen.
Petill.
—take it,
a love-mange grown upon me? what, a spirit?
Iun.
I am glad of this, I have found ye.
Petill.
In my belly,
O how it tumbles?
Iun.
Ye good gods, I thank ye.
Exeunt.
| The Tragedie of Bonduca | |