 | Bonduca |  |
1
ACT I.
The Roman Camp.Enter Junius and Petillius.
Petillius.
What ail'st thou, man? dost thou want meat?
Jun.
No.
Pet.
Cloaths?
Jun.
Neither. For Heav'n's love, leave me!
Pet.
Drink?
Jun.
You tire me.
Pet.
Come, it is drink; for what affliction
Can light so heavy on a soldier,
To dry him up as thou art, but no drink?
Thou shalt have drink.
2
Prithee, Petillius—
Pet.
And, by mine honour, much drink, valiant drink!
I see as fair as day, that thou want'st drink:
Did I not find thee gaping, like an oyster
For a new tide? Thy very thoughts lie bare,
Like a low ebb; thy soul, that rid in sack,
Lies moor'd for want of liquor;
And all thy body's chap'd and crack'd like timber,
For want of moisture: What canst thou want, but drink?
Jun.
You have too much on't.
Pet.
It may be, a wench too; say it be; come, soldier,
Thou shalt have both: a pretty valiant fellow,
Die for a little lap and roguery?
Hear, thou noble Roman,
The son of her that loves a soldier,
Hear what I promis'd for thee, when thy mother
Sent thee to fight in Britain. Thus I said:
“Lady, I take thy son to my companion;
“Lady, I love thy son, thy son loves war,
“The war loves danger, danger drink, drink discipline,
“Which is the field of Mars, the camp of Venus;
“These two beget commanders: Fear not, lady;
“Thy son shall lead.”
Jun.
'Tis a strange thing, Petillius,
That so ridiculous and loose a mirth
Can master your affections.
Pet.
Any mirth,
And any way, of any subject, Junius,
Is better than unmanly mustiness.
What harm's in drink? in a good wholesome wench,
I do beseech you, Sir, what error? Yet
It cannot out of my head handsomely,
But thou wouldst fain be drunk; come, no more fooling;
The general has new wine, new come over.
Jun.
He must have new acquaintance for it too,
For I will none, I thank ye.
3
“None, I thank you?”
A short and touchy answer! “None, I thank you?”
No company, no drink, no wench, “I thank you?”
You shall be worse entreated, Sir.
Jun.
Petillius,
As thru art honest, leave me!
Pet.
Yes; I will leave you, Junius,
And leave you to the boys, that very shortly
Shall all salute you, by your new surname
Of Junius “None I thank you.” I have found you,
Your lays, and out-leaps! You're in love, I know it;
You are an ass, and all the camp shall know it;
A peevish idle boy, your dame shall know it;
A wronger of my care, yourself shall know it.
Enter Judas and three Soldiers.
Judas.
A bean? a princely diet, a full banquet,
To what we compass.
Pet.
What ail these rascals?
1 Sold.
If this hold, we're starv'd.
Judas.
For my part, friends,
Which is but twenty beans a-day, (a hard world
For officers, and men of action!)
For mine own part, I say, I'm starv'd already.
2 Sold.
I'll fight no more.
Pet.
You'll hang then!
Ye dogs' heads in the porridge-pot! ye fight no more?
Does Rome depend upon your resolution
For eating mouldy pie-crust?
3 Sold.
'Would we had it!
Judas.
I may do service, captain.
Pet.
In a fish-market.
You, corporal Curry-comb, what will your fighting
Profit the commonwealth? d'you hope to triumph?
Or dare your vamping valour, goodman Cobler,
Clap a new soal to th'kingdom? 'Sdeath, ye dog-whelps,
You fight, or not fight?
Judas.
Captain!
4
Out, ye flesh-flies!
How long is't since thou eat'st last? Wipe thy mouth,
And then tell truth.
Judas.
I have not eat to th'purpose—
Pet.
“To th'purpose?” what's that? half a cow, and garlick?
Ye rogues, my company eat turf, and talk not;
Timber they can digest, and fight upon't;
Old mats, and mud with spoons, rare meats. Your shoes, slaves;
Dare ye cry out for hunger, and those extant?
Suck your sword-hilts, ye slaves, if ye be valiant.
“To the purpose?” Dost thou see that gentleman,
That melancholy monsieur?
Jun.
Pray you, Petillius!
Pet.
He has not eat these three weeks.
2 Sold.
H'has drunk the more then.
Pet.
Nor drunk nor slept these two months.
Urge him to th'point, he'll find you out a food
That needs no teeth nor stomach; a strange furmity,
Will feed you up as fat as hens i'th' foreheads,
And make ye fight like fichoks; to him!
Judas.
Captain—
Jun.
Do you long to have your throats cut?
Pet.
See what mettle
It makes in him: Two meals more of this melancholy,
And there lies the bold Briton, Caratach.
Judas.
We do beseech you—
Jun.
Out of my thoughts, ye slaves! your poor starv'd spirits
Can make me no oblations; else, oh, Love,
Thou proudly-blind destruction, I would send thee
Whole hecatombs of hearts, to bleed my sorrows!
Judas.
Alas, he lives by love, Sir.
[Exit Junius.
Pet.
So he does, Sir;
Fall but in love now, as ye see example,
There's so much charge sav'd, and your hunger's ended.
[Drum afar off.
Away! I hear the general. Jog, and talk not!
[Exeunt Judas, &c.
5
Suet.
Demetrius, is the messenger dispatch'd
To Penius, to command him to bring up
The Volans regiment?
Dem.
He is there by this time.
Suet.
And are the horse well view'd we brought from Mona?
Dec.
The troops are full and lusty.
Suet.
Good Petillius,
Look to those eating rogues, that bawl for victuals,
And stop their throats a day or two: Provision
Waits but the wind to reach us.
Pet.
Sir, already
I have been tampering with their stomachs, which I find
As deaf as adders to delays: Your clemency
Hath made their murmurs, mutinies; nay, rebellions;
Now, an they want but mustard, they're in uproars!
This gave Bonduca time, and strength, and pride,
To brave us to our teeth, and scorn our ruins.
Suet.
Nay, chide not, good Petillius! I confess
My will to conquer Mona, and long stay
To execute that will, let in these losses:
All shall be right again; and as a pine
Rent from Oeta by a sweeping tempest,
Jointed again, and made a mast, defies
Those angry winds that split him; so will I
Steer thro' these swelling dangers, plow their prides up,
And bear like thunder thro' their loudest tempests.
They keep the field still?
Dem.
Confident and full.
Pet.
In such a number, one would swear they grew:
They are so infinite, so ever-springing,
We shall be kill'd with killing; of desperate women,
That neither fear or shame found; say the men fail,
They'll poison us with their petticoats; say they fail,
They've priests enough to pray us into nothing.
6
These are imaginations, dreams of nothing;
The man that doubts or fears—
Dec.
I'm free of both.
Dem.
The self-same I.
Pet.
And I as free as any;
As careless of my flesh, of that we call life,
So I may lose it nobly, as indifferent
As if it were my diet.
Suet.
Then no doubt
The day must needs be ours. One single valour,
The virtues of the valiant Caratach,
More doubts me than all Britain: He's a soldier
So forg'd out, and so temper'd for great actions,
So fortunate in all, that his mere name
Fights in a thousand men, himself in millions,
To make him Roman: But no more. Petillius,
How stands your charge?
Pet.
Ready for all employments.
Suet.
Tomorrow we'll draw out, and view the cohorts.
Where's Junius?
Pet.
In's cabin, most lamentably loving,
To the tune of Queen Dido.
Suet.
'Twill make him fight the nobler. With what lady?
Pet.
The devil's dam, Bonduca's Daughter,
Her youngest, crack'd i'th' ring.
Suet.
I'm sorry for him:
But sure his own discretion will reclaim him;
He must deserve our anger else. Good captains,
Apply yourselves in all the pleasing forms
Ye can, unto the soldiers; tell 'em, if now they conquer,
The fat of all the kingdom lies before 'em;
Their shames forgot, their honours infinite,
And want for ever banish'd. Two days hence,
Our fortunes, and our swords, and gods be for us!
[Exeunt.
7
Enter Bonduca, Daughters, Caratach, Hengo, Nennius, and Soldiers.
Bond.
The hardy Romans? Oh, ye gods of Britain,
The rust of arms, the blushing shame of soldiers!
Shame, how they flee! Dare they send these to seek us,
These Roman girls? is Britain grown so wanton?
Twice we have beat 'em, Nennius; and a woman,
A woman beat 'em, Nennius.
Car.
So it seems;
A man would shame to talk so.
Bond.
Who's that?
Car.
I.
Bond.
Cousin, d'you grieve my fortunes?
Car.
No, Bonduca;
If I grieve, 'tis the bearing of your fortunes:
You put too much wind to your sail; Discretion
And hardy Valour are the twins of Honour,
And, nurs'd together, make a conqueror;
Divided, but a talker. 'Tis a truth,
That Rome has fled before us twice, and routed;
A truth we ought to crown the gods for, lady;
But we that have been victors, beat ourselves
When we insult upon our honour's subject.
Bond.
My valiant cousin, is it foul to say
What Liberty and Honour bid us do,
And what the gods allow us?
Car.
No, Bonduca;
So what we say exceed not what we do.
You call the Romans “fearful, fleeing Romans;”
Does this become a doer? are they such?
Bond.
They are no more.
Car.
Where is your conquest then?
Why are your altars crown'd with wreaths of flowers?
The holy Druids now composing songs
Of everlasting life to Victory?
Why are these triumphs, lady? for a May-game?
8
Is it no more? Shut up your temples, Britons,
Let's home and sleep!—Oh, Nennius,
Thou hadst a noble uncle, knew a Roman,
And how to speak him.
Bond.
By the gods, I think
You dote upon these Romans, Caratach!
Car.
Witness these wounds, I do; they were fairly giv'n!
I love an enemy: Yellow-tressed Hymen
Ne'er crown'd a longing virgin with more joy,
Than I am married to that man that wounds me:
And are not all these Roman? Ten struck battles
I suck'd these honour'd scars from, and all Roman;
Ten years of bitter nights and heavy marches,
(When many a frozen storm sung thro' my cuirass,
And made it doubtful whether that or I
Were the more stubborn metal) have I wrought thro',
And all to try these Romans.
Have not I seen the Britons—
Bond.
What?
Car.
Dishearten'd,
Run, run, Bonduca! not the quick rack swifter:
I've seen these Britons, that you magnify,
Run as they would have out-run Time, and roaring,
Basely for mercy roaring; the light shadows,
That in a thought scur o'er the fields of corn,
Halted on crutches to 'em.
Bond.
Oh, ye powers,
What scandals do I suffer!
Car.
Yes, Bonduca,
I've seen thee run too; and thee, Nennius;
Yea, run apace, both; then when Penius
(The Roman girl!) cut thro' your armed carts,
And drove 'em headlong on ye, down the hill.
Nen.
And what did you then, Caratach?
Car.
I fled too,
But not so fast; your jewel had been lost then,
Young Hengo there; he check'd me, Nennius:
9
Took him, and, with my tough belt, to my back
I buckled him; behind him, my broad shield;
And then I follow'd. If I say I fought
Five times in bringing off this bud of Britain,
I lie not, Nennius. Neither had you heard
Me speak of this, or ever seen the child more,
But that the son of Virtue, Penius,
Seeing me steer thro' all these storms of danger,
My helm still in my hand, he cried out nobly,
“Go, Briton, bear thy lion's whelp off safely;
“And let me meet thee once again in arms;
“Then if thou stand'st, thou'rt mine.” I took his offer,
And here I am to honour him.
Bond.
Oh, cousin,
From what a flight of honour hast thou check'd me!
Yet, let me think we conquer'd.
Car.
Do; but so think it; as we may be conquer'd:
And where we have found virtue, tho' in those
That came to make us slaves, let's cherish it.
Bond.
No more; I see myself. Th'hast made me, cousin,
More than my fortunes durst; for they abus'd me,
And wound me up so high, I swell'd with glory:
Shall we have peace? for now I love these Romans.
Car.
Thy love and hate are both unwise ones, lady.
Bond.
Your reason? Is not peace the end of arms?
Car.
Not where the cause implies a general conquest:
Had we a diff'rence with some petty isle,
Or with our neighbours, lady, for our landmarks,
After a day of blood, peace might be argued;
But where we grapple for the ground we live on,
The liberty we hold as dear as life,
And with those swords that know no end of battle,
It must not be. No; as they are our foes,
And those that must be so until we tire 'em;
Let's use the peace of honour, that's fair dealing,
10
Bond.
Caratach,
As thou hast nobly spoken, shall be done;
And Hengo to thy charge I here deliver.
The Romans shall have worthy wars.
Car.
They shall:
And, little Sir, when your young bones grow stiffer,
And when I see you able in a morning
To beat a dozen boys, and then to breakfast,
I'll tie you to a sword.
Hengo.
And what then, uncle?
Car.
Then you must kill, Sir, the next valiant Roman
That calls you knave.
Hengo.
And must I kill but one?
Car.
An hundred, boy, I hope.
Hengo.
I hope five hundred.
Car.
That is a noble boy! Come, worthy lady,
Let's to our several charges; and henceforth
Allow an enemy both weight and worth.
[Exeunt.
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