The Dawn in Britain by Charles M. Doughty |
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 | The Dawn in Britain |  |
Venutios speeding, with his warlike scythe-carts,
Drew nigh, the fourth day, to that mountain hold;
Where warded was betrayed Caratacus.
But they now all forlorn that strength behold!
Yet of poor wight, whom, under beechen shaw,
Larding few swine, they found, Venutios hears;
Was Vellocatus, yester, parted forth;
With horse and covered wains, and swift-teamed scythe-carts.
He led away, king Caradoc saw, mongst horse,
Of enemy strangers; that him hemmed, with spears!
Drew nigh, the fourth day, to that mountain hold;
Where warded was betrayed Caratacus.
But they now all forlorn that strength behold!
Yet of poor wight, whom, under beechen shaw,
Larding few swine, they found, Venutios hears;
Was Vellocatus, yester, parted forth;
With horse and covered wains, and swift-teamed scythe-carts.
He led away, king Caradoc saw, mongst horse,
Of enemy strangers; that him hemmed, with spears!
Vain pursue after were, the Roman squadrons,
With weary steeds. Then king Venutios rides,
At second morrow, on his enemy's trace.
When fade night stars, and gins new morn to break;
Being ready now to halt, and graze their teams,
They espy some wavering steeds of Vellocatus;
That browse, with bridles loost, in the fresh glades!
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At second morrow, on his enemy's trace.
When fade night stars, and gins new morn to break;
Being ready now to halt, and graze their teams,
They espy some wavering steeds of Vellocatus;
That browse, with bridles loost, in the fresh glades!
Blindness of heart had cast, on those false Britons,
Avenging gods; that wander they distraught,
Seeking widewhere, and cannot find their path:
Nor knoweth one, any more, his fellows' face
And voice. Steep clouds them seem some frowning woods,
Blue holts wan waves; fire seems the wavering wind,
Which, their distempered entrails thus consumes.
For victual spent and spoiled, they gnaw wild leaves;
But, kex and dwale, the angry Briton gods
Give to their hands; nor find they aught to drink,
Of that earth-mother's breast, which they betrayed!
(Had these been scattered, before Vellocatus;
Who slew his own folk, yester, from iron chariot;
When fell dire frenzy on him, from the gods!)
Avenging gods; that wander they distraught,
Seeking widewhere, and cannot find their path:
Nor knoweth one, any more, his fellows' face
And voice. Steep clouds them seem some frowning woods,
Blue holts wan waves; fire seems the wavering wind,
Which, their distempered entrails thus consumes.
For victual spent and spoiled, they gnaw wild leaves;
But, kex and dwale, the angry Briton gods
Give to their hands; nor find they aught to drink,
Of that earth-mother's breast, which they betrayed!
(Had these been scattered, before Vellocatus;
Who slew his own folk, yester, from iron chariot;
When fell dire frenzy on him, from the gods!)
Like heartless deer, dismayed, at thunder's sound,
They gaze on venging scythe-carts of Venutios!
That powdered, with long course, to them approach;
Whose riders shine, with glaives drawn to their deaths.
Then extreme headlong fury, upon them, seized.
Dispersedly, on sharp iron and whirling bronze,
They rush of him, who most expert of dukes.
He, like to erne, which, on his quarry, stoops;
Now on them hurls, without regard, save this,
Them make, and Vellocatus, ravens' meat!
They gaze on venging scythe-carts of Venutios!
That powdered, with long course, to them approach;
Whose riders shine, with glaives drawn to their deaths.
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Dispersedly, on sharp iron and whirling bronze,
They rush of him, who most expert of dukes.
He, like to erne, which, on his quarry, stoops;
Now on them hurls, without regard, save this,
Them make, and Vellocatus, ravens' meat!
Men diversely report, how eftsoons met;
That felon Vellocatus could not smite
His rightful lord, the king, whom he had wronged:
And how Venutios held his wrathful hand;
And would not slay a wretch, beside his mind;
To heaven, remitting his dread punishment!
Whereof bards, in their chants, strange things endite;
How of crude fiends, in guise of immane birds,
Being ravisht; and long buffeted in wild winds;
That prince was cast, in dim abysmal place;
Strewn, with their corses, which had gods offended;
That stings of serpents, fangs of ravening beasts,
And ravens' beaks send on them. Fretted die
They, each day, till eve: but made, at dawn, alive;
Each soul new wakens, to new direful death.
That felon Vellocatus could not smite
His rightful lord, the king, whom he had wronged:
And how Venutios held his wrathful hand;
And would not slay a wretch, beside his mind;
To heaven, remitting his dread punishment!
Whereof bards, in their chants, strange things endite;
How of crude fiends, in guise of immane birds,
Being ravisht; and long buffeted in wild winds;
That prince was cast, in dim abysmal place;
Strewn, with their corses, which had gods offended;
That stings of serpents, fangs of ravening beasts,
And ravens' beaks send on them. Fretted die
They, each day, till eve: but made, at dawn, alive;
Each soul new wakens, to new direful death.
Ere noon, were all his people cast away;
Nor more was Vellocatus seen of eye.
Men vainly him sought, among those bloody corses.
Howbe are some, which say, 'scaped Vellocatus;
And lived with Cartismandua, in secret wonne;
In luxury, until, when changed her woman's mind;
She, instead of wont love-potion, in his drink,
Strewed venim privily; whence he swelled and died.
Yet sith repenting, by tremendous spells,
She gods constrained to loose her love from death.
Nor more was Vellocatus seen of eye.
Men vainly him sought, among those bloody corses.
Howbe are some, which say, 'scaped Vellocatus;
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In luxury, until, when changed her woman's mind;
She, instead of wont love-potion, in his drink,
Strewed venim privily; whence he swelled and died.
Yet sith repenting, by tremendous spells,
She gods constrained to loose her love from death.
| The Dawn in Britain | |