 | The Dawn in Britain |  |
Ridden on the spur, the Romans' duke, Ostorius,
Is reached now to that hold, with knights and horse:
And covenant there he makes, with Vellocatus,
At all times, send an aid of Roman arms,
To maintain Cartismandua the queen's part;
Gainst her strong foes, (now many,) in wide North March:
And Briton Vellocatus, on his part,
Shall now deliver him Caratacus.
Joining right hands, it, by his nation's gods,
Whom he betrays, swears felon Vellocatus!
Is reached now to that hold, with knights and horse:
And covenant there he makes, with Vellocatus,
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To maintain Cartismandua the queen's part;
Gainst her strong foes, (now many,) in wide North March:
And Briton Vellocatus, on his part,
Shall now deliver him Caratacus.
Joining right hands, it, by his nation's gods,
Whom he betrays, swears felon Vellocatus!
Britons, their warlord yield, to Britain's foes;
Yield, to be done, to shameful death in Rome!
There to be made a spectacle, ah! of scorn,
Nay of pity, even to his cruel adversaries.
Hero divine, they yield Caratacus!
Yield, to be done, to shameful death in Rome!
There to be made a spectacle, ah! of scorn,
Nay of pity, even to his cruel adversaries.
Hero divine, they yield Caratacus!
Called Gaulish smith, one who rides mongst his horse,
Commands Ostorius; he offsmite the chains
Of king Caratacus. Forbid it gods,
Quoth he, of Rome, so noble foe were bound!
That Roman duke then taking, by the hand,
The hero; admires, longtime, his royal feature!
His tribunes also gaze, on that great Briton,
And captains! he who, in swift-teamed shrill chariot;
And girt with royal band of barbare gold,
Leading blue hosts, had seemed some hostile god!
Commands Ostorius; he offsmite the chains
Of king Caratacus. Forbid it gods,
Quoth he, of Rome, so noble foe were bound!
That Roman duke then taking, by the hand,
The hero; admires, longtime, his royal feature!
His tribunes also gaze, on that great Briton,
And captains! he who, in swift-teamed shrill chariot;
And girt with royal band of barbare gold,
Leading blue hosts, had seemed some hostile god!
But when is come new dawn, leaving that place,
Ostorius; Caradoc, captive king of Britons,
Must, midst thick-spears ride, of Rome's Gaulish horse:
They, each night, after long swift journey, lodge,
For peril of the way, in fence of vallum.
Great is their charge, who bring Caratacus.
Ostorius, in his tent, him entertains.
Ostorius; Caradoc, captive king of Britons,
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They, each night, after long swift journey, lodge,
For peril of the way, in fence of vallum.
Great is their charge, who bring Caratacus.
Ostorius, in his tent, him entertains.
Last all, to legions' stative camp, arrive;
(Is that now Noviomagus, dune by Thames.)
And sith, ere this moon's end, with guard and wains,
Led in, sad captive, lo, bright Embla queen;
To adorn, with him, some cruel pomp in Rome!
(Is that now Noviomagus, dune by Thames.)
And sith, ere this moon's end, with guard and wains,
Led in, sad captive, lo, bright Embla queen;
To adorn, with him, some cruel pomp in Rome!
Her, journeying, horse which Cartismandua sent,
Had overtaken; and they, on her, did seize,
By fraud, and her sweet babe. Then, that fell queen,
Far ways about, from king Venutios' ken,
Did send them, with strong guard of horse, to Romans.
Had overtaken; and they, on her, did seize,
By fraud, and her sweet babe. Then, that fell queen,
Far ways about, from king Venutios' ken,
Did send them, with strong guard of horse, to Romans.
They few days dwell; and sorry is duke Ostorius,
For their nigh deaths; who pleasantly oft discourses,
In tongue of Latium, with these high-born Britons.
Then he commands, make ready, the ninth legion;
King Caradoc to convey, his wife and brethren,
To Cantion port; whereas they shall embark.
For their nigh deaths; who pleasantly oft discourses,
In tongue of Latium, with these high-born Britons.
Then he commands, make ready, the ninth legion;
King Caradoc to convey, his wife and brethren,
To Cantion port; whereas they shall embark.
Such power he sends; lest even, in Roman Province,
Some leaf-crowned Britons tempt, despising death,
Rescue their king. Behold is led king Caradoc,
Midst Roman soldiers; on tall Gaulish horse.
Some leaf-crowned Britons tempt, despising death,
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Midst Roman soldiers; on tall Gaulish horse.
From Thames' green banks, and all along the path,
Each hour, to vale of Kent, fast-flocking Britons,
Hanging their heads, spread disarmed hands and weep.
Fair women beat their open breasts, down loost,
(Clear as the gleaner's sheaf,) their long hair-locks,
Like to ring-gold. Is, all day, loud and great
Lament of those that see their warlord led,
Captive, in their own Land! and Embla queen,
That daughter of dead Kentish Dumnoveros:
And their sweet babe, the Maid-of-Kent, they name.
Each hour, to vale of Kent, fast-flocking Britons,
Hanging their heads, spread disarmed hands and weep.
Fair women beat their open breasts, down loost,
(Clear as the gleaner's sheaf,) their long hair-locks,
Like to ring-gold. Is, all day, loud and great
Lament of those that see their warlord led,
Captive, in their own Land! and Embla queen,
That daughter of dead Kentish Dumnoveros:
And their sweet babe, the Maid-of-Kent, they name.
At Dubris, galley-ships, lo, with stepped masts,
To take them in, ride ready; and merry wind
Blows fair. Ha! mock great Caradoc's captive case,
Even at his own white cliffs, of foster Britain,
That shall he see no more, Rome's legionaries;
Whose majesty them confounds. But generous Publius,
Who emulates that old continence of Romans!
(The prætor's son,) taking this king's right hand,
(Which multitude hath, untimely, of harnessed soldiers,
Sent down to hell,) walks with him to Kent strand,
Where he inships; and down even to sea-billows.
Last bids, with manly cheer and voice, Farewell!
The gods, cries he, of thee, most noble Briton,
Have cure! Him follows, with their daughter, Embla;
(To whom, mild countenance show Italic soldiers.)
In other keel, his oath-fast brethren sail.
To take them in, ride ready; and merry wind
Blows fair. Ha! mock great Caradoc's captive case,
Even at his own white cliffs, of foster Britain,
That shall he see no more, Rome's legionaries;
Whose majesty them confounds. But generous Publius,
Who emulates that old continence of Romans!
(The prætor's son,) taking this king's right hand,
(Which multitude hath, untimely, of harnessed soldiers,
Sent down to hell,) walks with him to Kent strand,
Where he inships; and down even to sea-billows.
Last bids, with manly cheer and voice, Farewell!
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Have cure! Him follows, with their daughter, Embla;
(To whom, mild countenance show Italic soldiers.)
In other keel, his oath-fast brethren sail.
They loost, at eve, to shun the pirate-navy;
At day-dawn, touched Mainland. Through plain then journey,
Of Gaul, in much disease, in covered carts,
Those royal Britons: sith, vast Alps overpassed;
They turn, (but captives now!) to hostile Rome.
At day-dawn, touched Mainland. Through plain then journey,
Of Gaul, in much disease, in covered carts,
Those royal Britons: sith, vast Alps overpassed;
They turn, (but captives now!) to hostile Rome.
| The Dawn in Britain | |