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

When shines new sun, in heaven, with cheerful face;
And lavrock mounts, from battle-bruiséd grass,
Of Colne; and comes already crow, of cock,
To Claudius' ears, and clarions sound the watch:
He, from his surfeit, trembling wakes and pale.

Sith, entered his chief captains; their relation,
To the imperator made. To Cæsar, Aulus
Records; how had tumultuous sailed his army,
From Gaul. Then he, grand pontifex of Rome,
Decrees lustrate, with old Etruscan rites,
His legions. Cæsar, lo, and purpled dukes,
With vervain crowned, descend to Colne's green brinks.

Erst priests, now noon, at altars, sacrifice,
Lo, hundred ewes and hundred farrow swine,
To Rome's trine greatest gods, and purge the navy.
Thereafter mounted Claudius, in his litter;
Is, in large plain, borne forth. With glittering ensigns,
At clarion's sound, now halt his warwont legions!

Lo, Cæsar seated, in imperial state,
On bank, made with degrees, of the green sods.
Conformable to old Rome's Etruscan rites,
(And whereof even a learned history hath
Claudius himself compiled,) should be led round
A swine, a ram, an ox; with solemn pomp
Of priests and shrilling pipes; and chief centurions,
His legate and who tribunes of the legions.
But certain Hellenes, flatterers, (libertines
Of his,) much labour to persuade fond Claudius;
For his more dignity, by how much exceed
His deeds all memory of the former ages;
That, in their stead, were led forth elephants.

Assented he; and from his ivory throne,
Beckoning, sends for the huge slow-footed beasts:
(Howbeit he, for them, beves will sacrifice.)
Waver, the while, Rome's legions, glittering ranks,
As the sea's summer face: for soldiers' hearts,

Conscious of guilt, wax lean, in their proud breasts:
Misgives them, Claudius Cæsar cruel is,
More than Caligula. Ís not also Claudius,
In Roman theatres, noted to be pleased,
To look on much blood-spilling, and men's deaths?
What, and if Cæsar, that now is, commanded,
(Cast lots,) each tenth stand forth; and punishment,
For their revolt, be, by their fellows' glaives,
Slain! Yet they well have quit them, in the war;
And Britain's fields have a large tithe consumed!
Standing on this, now on that other foot,
By turns, each, unto both opinions, leans.

But their derne whisper, come to Cæsar's ears,
Through Sabine and chief tribunes of the legions,
Claudius that affects clemency of great Julius,
And magnanimity of divine Octavius,
Framing conformable countenance, to their, crowned
With laurel, sacred temple-images;
He lightly passeth over their default,
According to the laws. Consoles them, sith;
Saying, they full wéll have borne them, in the war!

Sith, Victrix names he, Conqueress of Britain,
His fourteenth legion; which, in that sedition,
Had foremost been; yet, since they passed Gaul's seas,

In every field, most valorous those were seen.
He ordáins then, that be named the Saviour-legion,
Henceforth, those pia cohorts of Vespasian.
But Cæsar, on the ninth, Hispaniensis,
Displeased, laid, (legion, which their eagle lost,)
This punishment; that they hold still hindmost place,
Till ended were this war, in every march.
Soldiers then, knowing their lives saved; in Britain,
Salute, (this second time,) Imperator! Claudius.

He, Cæsar, for have given him the gods,
So high felicity; and his heart is glad,
(In token he would, there none were called to-day,
In question; neither mourning be put on,
For any Roman, whom the laws have slain;
In antique tablets writ, of frozen bronze;)
Commanded, be his eagles crowned with bays,
And wreathed the bundles of his lictors' rods,
(Wands cut from Colne-Scamander's osier brinks,)
With flowers. Moreo'er, donation to the army,
Sheep, without number, spoil of the poor Britons,
And thousand beves, he gives with wine of Gaul,
And double rate of corn, that might, to-night,
Make merry, in all their tents, victorious soldiers.

Sith, rising in his see, commemorates Claudius;
Reading from scroll, what noblest deeds were done,

Of Romans and allies, in Britain's war.
Hark Cæsar names them, fifteen legionaries,
Nor fewer of the warlike Gauls and Almains;
And loud, approach, commands them, one by one!

They, before Claudius, on degrees of sods,
Lo, stand; that should, for valour, in the field,
Be crowned in all the army's open viewing.
Hath Cæsar certain baskets to his hand,
Prepared; wherein, be laid their glorious meeds,
Brooches and bracelets, golden collars, chains,
Phaleræ, and horsemen's silver ornaments.

An oak-leaf-plight crown, by itself, is seen;
Guerdon, for life of citizen preserved!

Loud spake then Cæsar; Fulve, of the ninth legion!
Receive, centurion, of thine imperator;
In testimony of thy military worth,
And good desert, this bracelet. Ever bear
It, on thy right arm, mongst thy fellow-soldiers!
And thou, Favoni Aper, knight of Rome,
Thine emperor, thee indues, with torque of gold.
Take this the glorious guerdon of thy merit,
And ever bear it, mongst thy fellow-soldiers!

Unto thee, Novicius, of the second legion,
Decurion soldier, gives thine imperator,
This hasta pura, the exceeding meed,
Bear witness, all the army! of eagle saved!
It ever bear, amidst thy fellow-soldiers.

So Claudius, to each one, praising their deeds;
The imperial words, rehearse then, to the legions,
Their captains with great voice; and sith their tribunes,
To men of the allies, both Gauls and Almains!

Then, to his curule chair, of ivory, calls
Forth purpled Cæsar, lo, young Flavius Titus,
Beloved of all the army! and he, desirous,
And ruddy, ascends the imperial degrees,
Of the field-sods. Reached forth the imperial hand:
Cæsar, him, for Corinium's conquered wall,
(Whereon stood erst Vespasian's manful son,
Stripling almost in years; by whose proud deed,
That stronghold first, in hostile soil was won,)
Gives mural crown, behold, of the fine gold!

Claudius himself, then, in his state, uprisen,
Before that valorous young man, knight of Rome!
(Soldiers' most coveted meed,) on him, the chapelet,
Whereon inscribed, Ob Civem servatum!
Imposed, for Roman citizen's life preserved.

For when the pia legion's duke, Vespasian,
Was fallen, from off his steed, mongst thronging enemies;
He, many Britons having slain around,
Brought forth his father saved, on his own horse!

From two-score thousand throats of legionaries,
Went up, so main voice, then, that, for the noise!
Birds fell to ground. And Cæsar sate, amazed;
For common saw now is, in camps of soldiers,
That the three Fabii more have wrought than Aulus!

Last, the emperor calls forth, some great-statured Almain;
Whose name of barbare sound uneath might tongue
Of Claudius frame. This man saved Cnæus Geta;
And when was broken the framea, in his stiff hand,
He bet back Britons, with his only targe.
And he, with laud of the imperial mouth,
From Claudius, lo, receives broad golden brooch!
Joy, with much shouting, all the allies of Rome!

Claudius absolves, sith, from their sacrament,
A thousand veteran soldiers; and ordains,
(Thing which he dreamed of, three times, in the night,)

Here founded were, a colony of veteran soldiers,
To be a rampart of Rome's laws and arms!
And officers he appoints thereto, and augurs;
Of his colônia, like a camp of legions,
To mete out cross streets, forum-place and walls
Foursquare; and measure thousand plots of glebe-
With stakes; and beacons set up, through Colne fields.
And that be here coined money, he commands;
Tribute, (as ere in Gallia,) of conquered nation.

At morrow's day, the emperor puts his hand,
To compass in, with furrow, his new walls.
Lo, garlanded Claudius' sacred plough, with flowers!
Whose glittering share draw, yoked, instead of beves,
With slow foot forth, huge Afric elephants.

The short lance of antique German warriors.