when in desperate circumstances, we surpassed them. It were disgraceful to you ingloriously to lose those things now which you have recently obtained by your valour; for often, truly, when less in number than at present, both you yourselves and your fathers have vanquished adversaries far more numerous. Be not alarmed, therefore, at their multitudes nor at their desire of revolt; for they are daring only in consequence of their unarmed and inconsiderate rashness; nor at their having burnt certain of our cities, which they have not taken by force or by battle, for one they gained through treachery, and the other was abandoned but for such acts now wreak on them becoming vengeance, that they may learn in very deed, who, when compared with themselves, are the men they have injured.'

Having thus said to some, he passed on to others, and adressed them: 'Now, fellow soldiers, is the season for exertion and for valour. This day only be courageous, and you will retrieve your losses: for if you conquer these, no others will resist you by this single battle you will secure your present advantages, ani bring into subjection what remains to be subdued; because all other soldiers, wherever they may be, will emulate your conduct, and your foes will be daunted: so that it being in your hands, either, fearless of all men, to retain whatever your fathers have left or yourselves have acquired, to be deprived of it altogether; make your choice to be free, to rule, to be rich, and to be happy, rather than, through your want of exertion, to endure the contrary.'

Having thus addressed these, he advanced to the third body, and harangued them also, after this manner: 'You have heard what these accursed people have done to us, or rather, indeed, you have seen some of their actions; choose, therefore, whether you will endure the like, and, moreover, retreat wholly from Britain, or, vanquishing them, whether you will both avenge the departed, and afford to all other men an example of gracious indulgence to obedience, and of necessary severity to revolt. Firmly, indeed, do I hope that we shall conquer; first by the assistance of the gods, who for the most part succour the injured; then by our native courage, inasmuch as we are Romans, and have long excelled all men by our valour: again by our experience, for these very persons who now oppose us we have already vanquished; lastly by our dignity, for we shall not contend with rivals, but with slaves whom we have suffered to be free and uncontrolled. However should any thing contrary to our hopes arise, for this I will not hesitate to advert to, it is better to die fighting like men than to be captured and impaled, to see our own entrails torn out and transfixed on burning stakes, to be wasted away in boiling water, as if we had fallen among certain savage, lawless, unfeeling beasts. Either, then, let us subdue them, or let us die on the spot; we shall have Britain as a conspicuous monument, even if all other Romans are driven from it; for with our bodies we shall wholly embrace it for ever.'

:

Having uttered these and similar words, he raised the signal for battle and immediately they advanced towards each other, the barbarians with loud clamour and songs of defiance; but the Romans with silence and order, until they came within a javelin's cast; when the enemy now proceeding slowly onward, they gave the signal altogether, according to previous arrangement, and rushed violently upon them, and in the shock easily broke through their array; then being hemmed in by the multitude, they fought desperately at the same time on all sides. Their conflict was various, for it was thus: here light-armed opposed light-armed: there heavy-armed contended with heavy-armed: horse encountered horse and the Roman archers fought against the chariots of the barbarians, falling on the Romans, overthrew them with the rushing of their chariots; and these, as their men were fighting without breastplates, were driven back by the flights of arrows; horseman discomfited footman, and footman overthrew horseman; some, in compact bodies,

dashed against the chariots, others dispersed by them; some, advancing in troops against the archers, put them to flight; others saved themselves by keeping aloof: and this occurred not in one, but in three several places at once. For a long while each contended with equal spirit and boldness. Finally, though late, the Romans conquered; they killed numbers in the fight, and near the waggons, and in a wood; they also took many alive. Great numbers, too, escaped and made ready again as If for battle. But about this time Bunduica dying by disease, they bewailed her sorely, and buried her with great funeral splendour: and as if they were now really discomfited, they became completely dispersed.

5.-SCENE FROM BONDUCA, A TRAGEDY.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER,

Enter Bonduca, Daughters, Hengo, Nennius, and Soldiers.

Bonduca. The hardy Romans? Oh, ye gods of Britain,
The rust of arms, the blushing shame of soldiers !
Are these the men that conquer by inheritance?
The fortune-makers? these the Julians.

Enter Caratach.

That with the sun measure the end of nature,
Making the world but one Rome, and one Cæsar?
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, scatter'd 'em';
And thro' their big-bon'd Germans, on whose pikes
The honour of their actions sits in triumph,

Made themes for songs to shame 'em: And a woman,
A woman beat 'em, Nennius; a weak woman,
A woman, beat these Romaus!

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,
And not our tongues; a truth is none of ours,
Nor in our ends, more than the noble bearing;
For then it leaves to be a virtue, lady,
And 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

And Roman girls, the lees of tainted pleasures :'
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 beasts with gilt horns waiting for the fire ?
The holy Druids composing songs

Of everlasting life to victory?

Why are these triumphs, lady? for a May-game?
For hunting a poor herd of wretched Romans?
Is it no more? Shut up your temples, Britons,
And let the husbandman redeem his heifers,
Put out our holy fires, no timbrel ring,

Let's home and sleep; for such great overthrows,

A candle burns too bright a sacrifice,

A glow-worm's tail too full of flame. Oh, Nennius,
Thou hadst a noble uncle knew a Roman,

And how to speak him, how to give him weight
In both his fortunes.

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; I was born a soldier;

And he that in the head on's troop defies me,
Bending my manly body with his sword,
I make a mistress. Yellow-tressed Hymen
Ne'er tied 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. Ten times a-night
I've swam the rivers, when the stars of Rome
Shot at me as I floated, and the billows
Tumbled their watry ruins on my shoulders,
Charging my batter'd sides with troops of agues;
And still to try these Romans, whom I found
(And, if I lie, my wounds be henceforth backward,
And be you witness, gods, and all my dangers)
As ready, and as full of that I brought,
(Which was not fear, nor flight) as valiant,
As vigilant, as wise, to do and suffer,

Ever advanc'd as forward as the Britons,
Their sleeps as short, their hopes as high as ours,
Ay, and as subtle, lady. "Tis dishonour,

And, follow'd, will be impudence, Bonduca,

And grow to no belief, to taint these Romans.
Have not I seen the Britons-

Bond. What?

Car. Dishearten'd,

Run, run, Bonduca! not the quick rack swifter;
The virgin from the hated ravisher

Not half so fearful; not a flight drawn home,
A round stone from a sling, a lover's wish,

E'er made that haste that they have. By the gods,
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;
Then when he hunted thee like Britain foxes,
More by the scent than sight; then did I see
These valiant and approved men of Britain,
Like boding owls, creep into tods of ivy,
And hoot their fears to one another nightly,
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 trasht me Nennius:
For when your fears out-run him, then stept I,
And in the head of all the Roman fury
Took him, and, with my tough belt, to my back
I buckled him; behind him, my sure 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 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 (my sword), my prow
Turn'd to my foe (my face), he cried out nobly,
Go, Briton, bear thy lion's whelp off safely;
Thy manly sword has ransom'd thee; grow strong,
And let me meet thee once again in arms;
Then if thou stand'st thou'rt mine.

And here I am to honour him.

Bond. Oh, cousin,

I took his offer,

From what a flight of honour hast thou check'd me What wouldst thou make me, Caratach?

Car. See, lady,

The noble use of others in our losses.

Does this afflict you? Had the Romans cried this,
And, as we have done theirs, sung out these fortunes,
Rail'd on our base condition, hooted at us,

Made marks as far as th' earth was ours, to shew us
Nothing but sea could stop our flights, despis'd us,
And held it equal whether banqueting

Or beating of the Britons were more business,
It would have gall'd you.

Bond. Let me think we conquer’d.

Car. Do; but so think, 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.
There's not a blow we gave since Julius landed,
That was of strength and worth, but, like records,

They file to after-ages. Our registers

The Romans are, for noble deeds of honour;

And shall we brand their mentions with upbraidings?

Bond. No more; I see myself. Thou 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 :
Thy temperance has cur'd that tympany,

And giv'n me health again; nay more, discretion.
Shall we have peace? for now I love these Romans.
Car. Thy love and hate are both unwise ones, lady.
Bond. Your reason?

Nen. 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,

The taking in of some rebellious lord,

Or making head against commotions,

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,

The gods we worship, and next those, our honours,
And with those swords that know no end of battle:
Those men, beside themselves, allow no neighbour;
Those minds that where the day is, claim inheritance,
And where the sun makes ripe the fruits, their harvest,
And where they march, but measure out more ground
To add to Rome, and here i' th' bowels on us;
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,
But in our ends our swords.