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

Ceased was, when lifted, from their eyes, that mist,
All battle-tumult: Romans have passed forth.
Britons, not slain or captive, left alive,
Be fled. Strewn, with blue corses, silent, lies,
And void, the slaughter-place: nor Hammeraxe
Tarries, as now, mongst Britons' battle-dead,
To read who fallen; but hastes, with headlong heat.

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Like guileful serpent, full of rancorous hate,
With quivering deadly tongue, and swelling throat;
In shining mails, hies Kynan, by wild paths,
With weary champions: and from craig to cliff,
That king, like hunter, creeps; might he cut-off
Fell Cogidubnos, or abhorred Vigantios!

Great Hammeraxe went on his enemy's trace,
Till Westing sun; when gazing from hill-steep;
His angry eyes none enemy, even yet, far-off,
Descries. Then Kynan, with grieved empty heart,
Returns and sapless knees, from vain pursuit.

Come lateward, to that corse-strewn battle-ground;
His Ordovices somewhile rest, and eat.
All then the moon await: that forest-trees
And cliffs, soars now above, with silver crest.

They seek then forth, ah, midst the slain caterfs;
And find, woeworth, that do, in comely feature,
(And though already were their corses spoiled,)
And godlike stature, even in sleep of death,
Exceed, the Briton kings, all their slain warriors!
Kynan them and his lords, with desolate hearts,
Take up; and bear forth, on long wicker shields.

Totter their steps, afflicted of the gods;
For wot their weary souls, is, of her dukes
The Land bereaved; and must, a prey, to Romans,

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Fall shortly! They to place, neath lofty ash,
Bear. There, delve their bright glaives the mossy sod,
And those together open one wide grave;
Wherein they Maglos, Hælion, Kowain laid.

Sith, drawn, of pious Ordovican Britons,
In the moon's shadows, are all dead blue warriors;
And laid, in fear and haste, on funeral rows:
And boughs, of swart-green pine, on them men strewed.
Whereafter Hammeraxe deems burn this grove,
Over the bodies; for, mongst ling and trees,
They lie; where deep mould, of fir-needles, is.

Kynan smote spark, of flint, and kindles flame:
Then sends anon, with brands, an hundred men,
To fire the thickets round: wherein, wind-god,
(Who Vintios named, to whom men offer birds,)
Doth breathe. Vast bale-fire rose, devouring roars;
Which seems incense the heavens, and scorch the stars:
And all consumes, to stones of the wild sod.
That burning quenched, at day, sith falling showers;
Shall bring up herb, on those untimely bones!

But thence king Kynan led his Ordovices,
(With whom few hurt; which found they yet alive,
Fallen in nigh woods, and hidden fugitives,)
To forest; where, three days, his glast-stained warriors
Did rest, him mourning, round: thence they turn home.

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But is not dead, in Colonnwy's field,
Loved of the gods, warsire Caratacus.
Come night, his mighty men, whom shields the goddess,
Stole him away, from danger of the Romans.
Him bear, by turns, six warriors forth, on targe;
Through hills, through wood. Now was, of second morrow,
Springing the sacred dawn; when, shielding Camulus,
And guiding Belisama, in pathless brakes,
They raught some cragged coast; and there find cave,
In cliff; whereas wont harbour salvage beasts.
Therein the warlord, come now to himself,
His Catuvelaunian champions do depose!

Thence Hiradoc, duke, who, with the sire, scaped forth;
Sends a strong runner, to the lord Venutios,
Far in the North! requiring hasty aid.
In evil hour! for met now, midst his path,
That messenger with queen Cartismandua's horse!

The royal witch, consulting magic arts,
Had Calduc sent, light steward of her court,
(Who carnal knowledge, of her, from his youth
Up, hath.) With him ride three-score young men, champions,
Of the queen's guard; unto whom, she gave, in charge,

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Venutios' kindred seize, for hostages;
Gainst time, when Caradoc should be taken alive!
But he, whom Hiradoc sent, suspecting naught,
Nor Calduc's falsehead; heard his guileful tale,
(How were they come, forerunners, from Venutios;)
Returns, their guide, to king Caratacus!

They then, that put on, day and night; arrive,
Soon, to those cliffs. Sharp stony coast it is,
Whereon the stormy eagles wont to tower:
Under whose eaves, dim sullen hold, lo, cave,
Whereo'er his thorny arms weaves the wild brier;
And garlands ivy-twine, and goat's-beard, hoary.
Therein, (for it is night,) none keeping watch,
So far from human foot, king Caradoc sleeps.

Lo, Calduc's men, thereto, with stealing foot,
Approach. These gazing-in, that hollow place,
(Whereas none lamp,) see full of shimmering light!
It Belisama caused cast the king's harness.

Come dawn, they them, before the wakening king,
Present, as horse-folk ridden from lord Venutios.
Misdeems naught Caradoc, who none conscience hath
Of ill desert. He Gorran bade such messes
Set forth, as might afford that desert place;
Singed corn, wild honey, and trouts of the clear brook;
Bake venison, which ran yester in green forest;

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(Where Idhig's battle-lance it pierced;) that might,
Venutios' tired march-riders break their fasts.