University of Virginia Library

ACT I.

SCENE the First.

Boadicia, Dumnorix, Icenians, Trinobantians and Roman Ambassadors.
Roman Ambassador.
Suetonius, leader of the Roman arms,
With gentlest greetings to th'Icenian queen,
And Dumnorix, the Trinobantian chief,
Sends health, and proffers friendship. Let the wrongs,
The mutual wrongs sustain'd by Rome and Britain—

Boadicia.
May stern Andate, war's victorious goddess,
Again resign me to your impious rage,
If e'er I blot my suff'rings from remembrance;
If e'er relenting mercy cool my vengeance,
Till I have driv'n you to our utmost shores,
And cast your legions on the crimson'd beach.
Your costly dwellings shall be sunk in ashes,
Your fields be ravag'd, your aspiring bulwarks
O'erturn'd and levell'd to the meanest shrub;
Your gasping matrons, and your children's blood
With mingled streams shall dye the British sword;
Your captive warriors, victims at our altars,
Shall croud each temple's spacious round with death:
Else may each pow'r, to whom the Druids bend,
Annul my hopes of conquest and revenge!

Dumnorix
to the Ambassador.
You come to offer terms. Stand forth and answer.
Did not Prasutagus, her dying lord,
On your insatiate emperor bestow
Half of his rich possessions, vainly deeming,
The rest might pass unpillag'd to his children?
What did you then, ye savage sons of rapine?
You seiz'd the whole inheritance by force,
Laid waste our cities, with the servile scourge
Disgrac'd a royal matron; you deflow'r'd
Her spotless daughters, stole our noblest youth
To serve your pride and luxury in Rome;
Our priests you butcher'd, and our hoary elders,
Profan'd our altars, our religious groves,
And the base-image of your Cæsar thrust
Among the gods of Britain: and by heav'n
Do you repair to these victorious tents
With proffer'd peace and friendship?

Roman Ambassador.
Yes, to treat,
As faith, benevolence and justice dictate.

Dumnorix.
How shall we treat with those, whose impious hands
Have rent the sacred bands of mutual trust?
How shall we treat with those, whose stony hearts
Compassion cannot melt, nor shame controll,
Nor justice awe, nor piety restrain,
Nor kindness win, nor gratitude can bind?

Roman Ambassador.
Thou art a stranger to our gen'ral's virtues.
No pillager, like Catus, but a soldier,
To calm and sober discipline inur'd,
He would redress, not widen your complaints.

Dumnorix.
Can he restore the violated maid
To her untainted purity and fame?
Can he persuade inexorable death
To yield our slaughter'd elders from the grave?
No, nor by soothing tales elude our vengeance.

Roman Ambassador.
Yet hear us calmly, e'er from yonder hills
You call the legions of imperial Rome,
And wake her eagles, which would sleep in peace.

Boadicia.
Begone, and bear defiance to your legions.
Tell them, I come, that Boadicia comes,
Fierce with her wrongs, and terrible in vengeance,
To roll her chariot o'er their firmest ranks,
To mix their soaring eagles with the dust,
And spurn their pride beneath her horses hoofs.

Roman Ambassador.
Then be prepar'd for war.

Boadicia.
We are prepar'd.
Come from your hills, ye fugitive remains
Of shatter'd cohorts by their fear preserv'd.
Th'embattled nations of our peopled isle,
Yet fresh from sev'nty thousand slaughter'd Romans,
Shall add yon refuse to the purple heap.
And yet amid triumphant desolation,
Though flames each Roman colony devour,
Though each distracted matron view her infant
Grasp with its tender hands the piercing spear,
Though your grey fathers to the falchion's edge
Each feeble head surrender, my revenge
Will pine unsated, and my greatness want
Redress proportion'd to a queen's disgrace.

Dumnorix.
Go, and report this answer to Suetonius.
Too long have parents sighs, the cries of orphans,
And tears of widows, signalized your sway,
Since your ambitious Julius first advanc'd
His murd'rous standard on our peaceful shores.
At length unfetter'd from his patient sloth,
The British genius lifts his pond'rous hands
To hurl with ruin his collected wrath
For all the wrongs, a century hath borne,
In one black period on the Roman race.

Roman Ambassador.
Yet e're we part, your price of ransom name
For the two captive Romans.

Boadicia.
Not the wealth,
Which loads the palaces of sumptuous Rome,
Shall bribe my fury. Hence, and tell your legions,
The hungry ravens, which inhabit round
The chalky cliffs of Albion, shall assemble
To feast upon the limbs of these, your captains,
Shall riot in the gore of Roman chiefs,
These Masters of the World. Produce the pris'ners.

[To an Icenian.

SCENE the Second.

Boadicia, Dumnorix, Icenians, Trinobantians, Roman Ambassadors, Ænobarbus, and Flaminius in Chains.
Boadicia
to the Ambassador.
Stay, if thou will't, and see our victims fall.

Ænobarbus
to Boadicia.
Dart not on me thy fiery eyes, barbarian.
Vain are thy efforts to dismay a Roman.
Life is become unworthy of my care;
And these vile limbs, by galling chains dishonour'd,
I give most freely to the wolves and thee,

Roman Ambassador.
Mistaken queen, the Romans do not want
These instigations, nor thy proud defiance
To meet your numbers in the vale below.

Ænobarbus
to the Ambassador.
Then wherefore do'st thou linger here in vain.
Commend us to Suetonius; bid him streight
Arrange his conquering legions in the field,
There teach these rash barbarians to repent
Of their disdain, and wish for peace too late.

Roman Ambassador
to Ænobarbus and Flaminius.
Yes, to Suetonius and the Roman camp
These heavy commendations will we bear;
That for two gallant countrymen our love,
And indignation at their fate may sharpen
Each weapon's point, and strengthen ev'ry nerve,
Till humbled Britain have appeas'd their shades.

SCENE the Third.

Boadicia, Dumnorix, Icenians, Trinobantians, Ænobarbus and Flaminius.
Ænobarbus.
Come, let us know our fate.

Boadicia.
Prepare for Death.

Ænobarbus.
Then cease to loiter, savage.

Dumnorix
to Ænobarbus.
Now by heav'n
Wert thou no Roman, I could save and love thee.
That dauntless spirit in another breast,
And in a blameless cause were truly noble;
But shews in thee the murderer and ruffian.

Ænobarbus.
Thy hate, or favour are alike to me.

Flaminius
to Dumnorix.
May I demand, illustrious Trinobantian,
Why must we fall, because uncertain war
Hath made us captives.

Dumnorix.
If in open battle
With gen'rous valour to have fac'd our arms
Were all our charge against thee, thou mightst rest
Secure of life; but leading thee to die
Is execution on a gen'ral robber.

Ænobarbus
to Flaminius.
And dost thou meanly sue to these barbarians?

Flaminius
to Dumnorix.
Though our rapacious countrymen have drawn
Your just resentment, we are guiltless borh.

Boadicia
to Flaminius.
So are ten thousand infants, whom the name,
The single name of Roman shall condemn,
Like thee, to perish by th'unsparing sword.

Flaminius.
Yet more than guiltless, we may plead desert
With Boadicia.

Boadicia.
Insolent pretension!
A Roman plead desert with Boadicia!
This shall enlarge the portion of thy suff'rings;
For this not only shall thy blood embrue
Andate's shrine but torture shall be added,
And fury wanton in thy various pains.

Ænobarbus
to Boadicia.
Produce thy tortures, them and thee we scorn.

Tenantius
to the Trinobantians.
Fall back with rev'rence, Trinobantian soldiers.
See, who advances from your gen'ral's tent.

SCENE the Fourth.

Boadicia, Dumnorix, Icenians, Trinobantians, Ænobarbus, Flaminius, and Venusia.
Venusia.
Victorious sister, may th'unresting labour
Of fortune weave new honours to adorn thee,
And Dumnorix, thy colleague, and my lord;
But if amid these warlike consultations,
Ere yet the order'd pomp of battle moves,
A supplicating sound may reach thy ear,
Stoop from thy glory to an act of mercy.
Thy doom pronounc'd on these unhappy captives—

Boadicia.
Ha!

Venusia.
Their deservings, and thy daughter's pray'r,
Mix'd with my own compassion, from the tent
Have call'd me forth a suitor to thy pity,
That thou would'st hear and spare them.

Boadicia.
Spare these captives?

Dumnorix.
Why this request, Venusia?

Venusia.
Give them hearing.
They can unfold a story, which demands
Your whole attention.

Dumnorix.
Let us hear. Proceed.

[To Flam.
Flaminius.
The Romans' late injustice we abhorr'd,
Nor join'd the band of spoilers. In that season
We chanc'd one day to wander through the forest,
Which parts our confines from th'Icenian land.
We found a beauteous virgin in our way.

Boadicia.
Wretch, dost thou hope to barter with our sister
For thy base life?

Flaminius.
I fear not death, O queen;
But dread dishonour ev'n among my foes.

Ænobarbus
to Flaminius.
Death is thy terrour; reason else would teach thee,
No gratitude with cruelty can dwell.

Flaminius.
Deep in that wood we met the lovely maid,
Chac'd by a brutal soldier. At our threats
He soon retreated. To our home we led her,
From insult guarded, sent her back with honour,
Nor was she less than Boadicia's daughter.

Venusia.
Now, dearest sister, whose successful standard
Not valour more, than equity upholds;
And thou, my husband, who dost rise in arms
Oppressive deeds in others to chastise;
From your own guiding justice will you stray,
And blend deservers with the herd of guilt?

Dumnorix.
And are you Romans? Yes, we will, Venusia,
Repay their worthy deed. Strike off their fetters.

Boadicia.
What do I hear? A British chief's command?
Whoe'er unchains a Roman, on mankind
Lets loose oppression, insolence and rapine;
Sets treason, falshood, vice, and murder free.

Venusia.
Yet these preserv'd thy Emmeline from shame.

Boadicia.
Not less the victim of eternal shame,
Was she conducted to their hateful mansion;
To guard her honour, and be less, than ruffians,
Had been repugnant to their name and race;
But fear of me compell'd them to release her.
Then shall two Romans nurs'd in fraud and falshood,
From childhood train'd to each flagitious deed,
By colour'd pleas to shun the fate, they merit,
Here find regard against the thousand mouths
Of Boadicia's suff'rings? No, this moment
Shall they expire in torture.

Venusia.
Yet reflect.
Of all the paths, which lead to human bliss,
The most secure and grateful to our steps
With mercy and humanity is mark'd.
The sweet-tongu'd rumour of a gracious deed
Can charm from hostile hands th'uplifted blade,
The gall of anger into milk transform,
And dress the brows of enmity in smiles.

Boadicia.
Still dost thou dare, Venusia—

Dumnorix.
Gently, sister.
And trust me, these resemble virtuous men.

Boadicia.
Was not I virtuous, whom the Romans lash'd?
Were not my violated children virtuous?
Bear them this instant to the fiercest rack;
And while their trembling limbs are strain'd with torture,
While thro' the cruel agony of pain
The bloody drops bedew their shiv'ring cheeks,
Tell them, how gentle are the pangs, they feel
To those the soul of Boadicia prov'd,
When Roman rage her naked limbs expos'd.
And mark'd her flesh with ever-during shame.

Dumnorix
to the Britons.
Withhold your Hands.

Boadicia.
What means the Trinobantian?

Dumnorix.
To save thy benefactors and proclaim,
Whate'er by valour we extort from fortune,
We yet deserve by justice.

Boadicia.
To contend
With Boadicia, and protect her foes
Did she awaken thy ignoble sloth,
Which else without resentment of thy wrongs
Had slept obscure at home.

Dumnorix.
Forbear Be calm.

Boadicia.
Yes, under bondage thou hadst tamely bow'd,
Had not I fir'd thy slow, inactive soul.

Dumnorix.
Not with unbridled passion I confess,
I wield the sword and mount the warlike car.
With careful eyes I view'd our suff'ring isle,
And meditated calmly to avenge her.
Unmov'd by rage, my soul maintains her purpose
Through one unalter'd course; and oft before
As I have guided thy unruly spirit,
Against its wildness will I now protect thee,
And from a base, inhuman action save thee.

Boadicia.
Thy boasted calmness is the child of fear;
Thou tremblest to exasperate the foe.
Well was it, Britons, in our former conquests,
That I presided o'er the scene of slaughter;
Else had those thousands of the Roman youth,
Whose bodies lie extended on our fields,
Stood at this hour a threatning host against you.
Come then, ye warriors, follow your conductress,
And drag these slaves to death.

Dumnorix.
They will not move,
Fix'd with amazement at thy matchless frenzy.
Do thou revere these warriors, who with scorn
Observe thy folly.

Venusia.
Husband, sister, hear!
Oh! if my humbled voice, my prostrate limbs,
If tears and sighs of anguish may atone
For this pernicious discord, I have rais'd—

Boadicia
to Venusia.
Hence with thy despicable sighs and tears.
[To Dumnorix.
And, thou presumptuous, what invidious power,
Foe to thy safety, animates thy pride
Still to contend with Boadicia's wrath?

Dumnorix.
No, by Andate, I contend not with thee.
At this important season, when the soldier
Thirsts for the conflict, it would ill become me
To trifle here in discord with a woman.
Nay do not swell that haughty breast in vain.
When once the sacred evidence of justice
Illuminates my bosom, on a rock,
Which neither tears can soften, nor the gusts
Of passion move, my resolution stands.

Boadicia.
Now heav'n fulfil my curses on thy head!
May ev'ry purpose of thy soul be frustrate!
May infamy and ruin overtake thee!
May base captivity and chains o'erwhelm thee!
May shameful crimson from thy shoulders start,
Like mine, dishonour'd with the servile scourge!
With pain all shiv'ring, and thy flesh contracting,
Low mayst thou crouch beneath th'expected stroke,
Ev'n from the hands, thou sav'st!

Tenantius.
Alas! great princess,
Divert this wrath against th'impending foe,
Whose formidable ranks will soon descend
From yonder hill.

Boadicia
to the Britons.
Ungrateful and perfidious!
Now would I draw my spirit from your camp,
Leave you with him defenceless and expos'd;
Then should your shatter'd chariots be o'erthrown,
Your jav'lins broken, and in hasty flight
Far from your trembling hands the buckler cast;
Did not th'insatiate thirst, which burns my soul,
To empty ev'ry vein of Roman blood,
Protect you, traitors, from my indignation:
But, by th'ensanguin'd altars of Andate,
Thou, Dumnorix, be sure, shall't rue this day,
For thou henceforward art to me a Roman.

SCENE the Fifth.

Dumnorix, Venusia, Tenantius, Ebrancus, Trinobantians, Ænobarbus, and Flaminius.
Venusia.
Oh! Dumnorix!

Dumnorix.
Let not this frantic woman
Grieve thy mild nature—Romans, cease to fear.
These are my tents; retire in safety thither.

SCENE the sixth.

Dumnorix, Venusia, Tenantius, Ebrancus and Trinobantians.
Dumnorix
to Tenantius.
Do thou go forth this instant, and command
Each ardent youth to gird his falchion round him,
His pond'rous spear to loosen from the turf,
And brace the target firmly on his arm.
His car let ev'ry charioteer prepare,
His warlike seat each combatant assume,
That ev'ry banner may in battle wave,
Ere the sun reaches his meridian height.

SCENE the seventh.

Dumnorix, Venusia, Ebrancus and Trinobantians.
Venusia.
My lord and husband!

Dumnorix.
Wherefore dost thou hold me,
And in my passage thy endearments plant.
I must prepare this moment to confront
The foul and ghastly face of cruel war;
And, by the gods, I rather court at present
That shape of horrour, than thy beauteous form:
Then go, thou dear intruder, and remove
Thy softness from me.

Venusia.
I will stay no longer,
Than brave Tenantius hath perform'd thy orders.
Long have I known thy valour skill'd to throw
The rapid dart, and lift th'unconquer'd shield.
A confidence, like this, hath still diffus'd
Enough of firmness thro' my woman's heart
Ne'er to molest thee with a woman's fears,
This day excepted; now my weakness governs,
And terror too importunate will speak.
Hast thou encounter'd yet such mighty powers,
As down that mountain suddenly will rush;
From ev'ry part the Romans are assembled,
All vers'd in arms, and terrible in valour.

Dumnorix.
Tell me, thou lovely coward, am not I
As terrible? or falls the Roman sword
On the tough buckler, and the crested helm
With deadlier weight, than mine? away and fear not;
Secure and calm, repose thee in thy tent;
Think on thy husband, and believe, he conquers;
Amid the rage of battle he will think
On thee; for thee he draws the martial blade;
For thy lov'd infants gripes the pointed ash.
Go, and expect me to return victorious;
Thy hand shall dress my wounds, and all be well.

Venusia.
Far better be our fortune, than for thee
To want that office from my faithful hand,
Or me to stain thy triumphs with my tears.

Dumnorix.
Fear not. I tell thee, when thou seest my limbs
With dust bespread, my brows with glorious sweat,
And some distinguish'd wound to grace my breast,
Thou in the fulness of thy love shallt view me,
And swear, I seem most comely in thy fight.
Thy virtue then shall shew me worthier of thee,
Than did thy fondness on our nuptial day.

Venusia.
It shall be so. All wounded thou shalt find
My heart prepar'd to stifle its regret,
And smooth my forehead with obedient calmness.
Yet hear me further; something will I offer
More, than the weak effects of female dread;
Thou go'st to fight in discord with thy colleague:
It is a thought, which multiples my fears.

Dumnorix.
Well urg'd, thou dearest counsellor, who best
Canst heal this mischief. Let thy meekness try
The soft persuasion of a private conf'rence
To win from error a bewilder'd sister,
While none are present to alarm her pride.

Venusia.
I go, but trembling doubt my vain attempt;
Unless, commissioned with thy dear injunctions,
My soul, exerted to perform thy pleasure,
Could give persuasion all my force of duty.

SCENE the eighth.

Dumnorix, Ebrancus, Trinobantians, and Tenantius.
Dumnorix.
Hark! we are summon'd.

Tenantius.
Ev'ry band is form'd.
The Romans too in close arrangement stand.

Dumnorix.
You, warriors, destin'd to begin the onset,
My Trinobantians, it is time to seek
Th'embattled foe. And you, all-judging gods,
Look down benignant on a righteous cause!
Indeed we cannot give you, like the Romans,
A proud and sumptuous off'ring; we abound not
In marble temples, or in splendid altars:
Yet though we want this vain, luxurious pomp,
Rough though we wander on the mountain's head,
Through the deep vale, and o'er the craggy rock,
We still demand your favour; we can shew
Hands, which for justice draw th'avenging steel,
Firm hearts, and manners undebas'd by fraud.
To you, my dauntless friends, what need of words?
Your cities have been sack'd, your children slain,
Your wives dishonour'd; lo! on yonder hills
You see the spoilers; there the ruffians stand:
Your hands are arm'd; then follow, and revenge.