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

The occasion, deems Ostorius asketh haste;
Is season fit to conquer all North Britain:
Wherefore, the same day, parted; he takes horse,
At Troynovant; sent letters on before,
To Camulodunum, and, (new burg on Yare,)
To Gariononum; to make ready cohorts;
Commanding, that those meet him, in the path.

That royal witch, who skills black weathers raise,
And chain the wavering winds, sends other fiends;
Which, baleful, borne, on eager rushing wings,
Wake magic tempest; lightning splits the craigs:
Is filled then dusking air, with blasts of dread.
And met with other spirits, of hell-ground,
Those make earth's face to quake, and reel the woods;
Whence cumbered is the march of king Venutios.

Sith when that warlike king heard, how the legions
Approach; he rose from sieging round Isurium:
(Wherein all dwellers fear the outrageous queen;
That takes off, and for aught mistrust she hath,
Whomso she will, by venim, or night-murderers!)

Venutios hastes hill-passage then beset,

240

Hemmed with sharp craigs; and whereby, the third morrow,
He deems, must marching Roman legions pass.
And seemed his chariot-wheels, as burning brass,
With hovering ravens' wings, so fleetly he drives;
Who most, of noble warriors in the North,
Is skilled, in full career, wield rushing teams.

Bands, with the king, ride, of Brigantine horse.
An armed backrider sits, on each steed's croup:
Are those, in fight, light-runners, with the scythe-carts.
Three-hundred follow, of the land's trimarch.
Run many chariots, with the king Venutios;
And powderous, flecked, with spume, come their teams' breasts.
Loud sound the stripes, of hundred crackling whips;
Of who tall lords, in them, to battle, ride.
Glister their rushing wheels, uprolling dust.

But looking forth, at morrow, from steep craig;
Far-glancing arms, of Romans' expedite cohorts,
Venutios sees, already past the strait!
He must return then back, to his caterfs.
Last he his weary powers draws to hill-foot;
Where now they rest, come eve, in covert place.

But when shines wide East threshold of day's god,
As a vast hearth; to battle impatient, blue

241

Brigantes hail this surging sun! Venutios
Leads forth his chariots. Seemed a whirlwind risen,
Then, like to storm-god, on the Summer plain.
Venutios foremost rides; and soughs the wind,
About his blowing hairs; that, like flame, girds
A bend of gold. Romans, at crow of clarions,
Though taken unwares, (had marched the legions' trains
Before the sun,) halt, range them, do helms on,
Embrace their shields. Their tribunes, at a run,
Lead up the rearward. Time fails, stand in ordinance;
Soldiers them gather round their stoutest ones.
Gauls' horse, in field, with knights of Rome, ride forth.

Impetuous assault of swift iron scythe-carts;
(Whence barbare yells affray Italic breasts!)
Reap round them living swathe. Venutios leapt,
To grass, and chariot-riders, with him, made
Yet more red slaughter: for the king, in force,
Though old, is next to great Caratacus.
Drivers of iron scythe-carts, then draw off,
To breathe their sweated teams, for come his spears;
Which footmen now, in wide half-moon, he leads;
(Was this old warlike wont of Cunobal,
His enemies to enclose.) But went not forth,
To-day, Brigantine gods, mongst their blue warriors:
(Fear holds their hands, dread quells their divine breasts,

242

Of Fortune, god of Rome; that, in North March,
Arriving, threatens hurl them from their seats,
Aye and send them, exiles, forth!) whence shortly enforced,
The Britons' loosely ordained caterfs are seen!
Brigantine bands are, each from each, dispersed.
But, from an ambush, warriors, oak-leaf crowned,
Fell out, with so fierce brunt, they saved Venutios.