University of Virginia Library

Scen. 1.

Celerinus, Burgargo, Orestes, Sisterus, Derisius, Gervoron, Burnomoy, Souldiers, Ensign, Drums, Flagge.
Cel.
Their first arrival on Numenia's Land,
They purchased it by a Legion of
Their sacrificed lives. Aberdens men
Were new beginners in those stratagems,
Their Armour was no friend, but plai'd a foe,
To their well nigh and half sweltred bodies:
Our trenches work by wisdom, not by force,
While we like Trojans stood and maz'd their folly.
Come brave souls, lets meet them in the front.

Bur.
Let them strike anchor in our barren forts,
While there no controversie riseth on ground,
For their determed wills to make a choyce,
Whether Sea or Land afford their execution;
Though Æolus confirm with Neptunes
Blustering noyse on the azure gliding Seas,
Which hoysteth to th'memory a panick fear;
Yet those shall stand in no similitude
To our own Land-contrivings: chear then up,
Your Numenia bloods, we'l put them to't
Great King Celerinus, will you please to lead,
Lets ralley them before they gather head.

[They march and goe out.
Aberden, Hollarro, Yernomoy, Fafrisius, Buzarain, Nevermo, Quermero, Perpurgerus, Ensigns, Drums, a march, Souldiers.
Aber.
March, march, let swift and sure set feet strike off
Sloath her entreaties, the metamorphious forms
Of their strange Land, shall lend to none of our
Determi'd thoughts such a prodigious sense,
As make a quick flown fury rise, as
Choller in the veins created by burnt
Adust blood, but with a milder grace,
Send comfort to our hope with new supplies.
The soaring Eagle ne'r prided more
To play with air, or stand upon her wing,
In the defiance of the lesser birds,
Then I do in my potent Souldiers strength.
Let them strike lance with dexterous art,
My care shall ever be imployed to gain
The field, her triumphs, by Bruzantia's hands;
Lets detard time no longer.

Hol.
My Leige, your will,
Though putrid bodies by corrupted stench,
Breeds impure Atoms, infects pure air;
Yet those most innocent souls must not go
To the Elizium of eternall rest,
Without reveuge do follow.

[They march and goe out.
A great shouting and hollowing, and the Battel within, Aberden, et cœt.
Aber.
What, still multiplies surround their courses?
They rise like Ants from muddy mole hills,
Surely want ne'r shew'd her face within the bounds
Of this new prodigall Ile: men like the
Putrifaction of a loathsome forme, breed
Like the Atoms, the Sun his rayes, and
Ne'r diminish, though voyce with bloody notes
Send thousands to their far-sought homes,
They lye with arms spread open to receive
Their unnatural mothers, like Vipers to their dams;
Yet Terrour strikes no sense to their benummed wills,
But a carriage of presumptuous Law,
Of free dom, licence, of their free born right,
They like a Fury more than modest Grace,
Spend wind and limbs a sacrifice to us:
We fear nor courage, nor their valour; no,
Their sights are not the weapons of our lust
VVe have to fight; come, come, march on.

Holl.
We will,
For ne'r shall that strange sound take place
VVithin receptacles of a hearing,
That Bruzantia's men lost ground; come march
VVith me, my Lords.

Yer.
VVe follow your command.

Exeunt.
Celeriuns, &.c.
Cele.
The service was hot, yet fear not you,
Though ground doth thirst with her insatiate
Will, to drink up more conjeal'd coagulated blood
Of our lost soules and Souldiers, receiving
A surfeit by its strange and faulty virtue,
We have enough to stand a field, and face.

Burg.
Lets draw the scattered forces to a head,
Bring ranks in order, and each his Ensign place,
Not lose the day with folly in our hand.

Burn.
My stomack n'er did faint with killing till
This day, my arm bids not desist, though
Reason would plead for it, my sword cryes
Vengeance still, each blow it gave brings rosey
Blood its hue, from those strange hags, Bruzantia's
Men, sending their woefull cryes to the skies,
To frame a thunder.

Cele.
Valour runs with thy great will, from hence
Lead thou the blew male-frocks to the field,
Thy manhood shews thy grace, thy fame this day
Won first its root, the next the branches they
Thou wilt obtain, on which the Trophies hang
Of those lost men, of which they made a mang;
Let us see them once more, come follow me.

Exeunt.