Boadicia A Tragedy |
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SCENE the fifth.
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 | Boadicia |  |
SCENE the fifth.
Ænobarbus and Flaminius.Ænobarbus.
Do thou come forward now, and say, what terrours
Has thy dejected soul been brooding o'er?
Yon furious dame, who fill'd thee so with dread,
Is marching onward. Raise thy head, and look.
See, where ev'n now with sullen pride she mounts
Her martial seat; yet wondrous slow, by heav'n,
Her car descends, nor soon will reach the vale.
Thou lookst desponding. Art thou still dismay'd?
Thinkst thou, yon dreadful woman will return?
From us she moves, though slowly; then take comfort.
Flaminius.
Far other cares, than terrour, fill my breast.
Ænobarbus.
What means this languor? Wherefore heaves that sigh?
Flaminius.
O Ænobarbus, willt thou bear my weakness;
I see the moment of deliv'rance near,
Yet pine with grief.
Ænobarbus.
Whate'er the folly be,
With which thy bosom teems, the gods confound it.
Flaminius.
To see the dearest object of my soul,
Just see her after such a tedious absence,
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When these reflections rise, the sweet exchange
From bonds to freedom, which to her I owe,
Is mix'd with bitterness, and joy subsides.
Ænobarbus.
Why didst thou leave the fair Italian fields,
Thou silken slave of Venus? what could move
Thee to explore these boist'rous northern climes,
And change yon radiant sky for Britain's clouds?
What dost thou here, effeminate? by heav'n
Thou shouldst have loiter'd in Campania's villas
And in thy garden nurs'd with careful hands
The gaudy-vested progeny of Flora;
Or indolently pac'd the pebbled shore,
And ey'd the beating of the Tuscan wave
To waste thy irksome leisure. Will't thou tell me,
What thou dost here in Britain? dost thou come
To sigh and pine? could Italy afford
No food for these weak passions? must thou traverse
Such tracts of land, and visit this cold region
To love and languish? answer me, what motive
First brought thee hither? but forbear to urge,
It was in quest of honour; for the god
Of war disclaims thee.
Flaminius.
Well, suppose, I answer,
That friendship drew me from the golden Tiber,
With thee to combat this inclement sky,
Will it offend thee?
Ænobarbus.
No, I am thy friend,
And I will make a Roman of thee still;
But let me see no languishing dejection
More on thy brow, nor hear unmanly sighs.
Gods! can'st thou dream of love? When yonder see,
The Roman legions, all array'd for battle,
Are now descending; see their dreaded eagles,
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A grove of jav'lins glitters down the steep;
They point their terrours on th'astonish'd foe;
Soon will they charge the Britons in the vale,
And with th'auspicious glories of this day
Enrich the annals of imperial Rome.
O curst captivity! with double weight
I feel thee now! malicious fate! to suffer
A Roman thus to stand confin'd in bondage,
And see the triumphs, which he cannot share.
By heav'n, Flaminius, I will never bear it.
Where is thy Briton? Will she lead us hence?
Else, by the god of war, unarm'd I rush
To join the glorious scene, which opens there.
Flaminius.
I see her coming, and will fly to meet her.
Ænobarbus.
Our time is short, remember; do not dally.
| Boadicia | |