Burst, gall, and dye my actions in flame-colour!
I saw Hirildas fall, and breathe his soul
Even in my face; as though hell watch'd a time
To crush our pomp and glory into sighs.
The conduits of his vital spring being ripp'd,
Spurtl'd my robes, soliciting revenge. Belinus,
Attach the murderer, and if abettors
Deny obedience, then with sword and fire
Waste their dominions. For a traitor's sake,
Whole towns shall tremble, and the ground shall quake. [Exeunt.
SCENE VIII.
Androgeus, Tenantius, Mandubratius.
And. Shall justice and just Libra ne'er forsake
Th' embroider'd belt? no sign of them on earth?
Are gods dim-sighted grown, or do they sleep
The morning, and carouse the afternoon,
That mortal motions tumble thus by chance?
Cleave, thou blue marble ceiling, that heaven's king
With clearer aim may strike a tyrant's crown,
Nor spend his brimstone bullets 'gainst some hill
Or innocent pine.
Man. Your injuries run low; mine break all bounds.
My father butcher'd at his lawless will:
I banish'd from my lands, depos'd from rule,
Owing my life to night and flight.
Ten. I do confess, you may complain aloud,
And tear the element with a dolorous note:
Call down Astræa from her crystal chair,
Or call up Nemesis from the direful deep,
To expiate your wrongs.
Else would the manes of your father slain
In a white sheet come sliding to your bed,
And be reveng'd on you. He gave you life;
How can you better spend it, than to wreak
His death and slaughter? but our case and cause,
Brother, is not the same. Eulinus slew
His innocent friend, and we defend the fact,
With hostile noise drowning law's reverend voice;
But murder outcries both. Give me then leave
To be a neutral: my young years, unfit
For any desperate course, can but complain,
The king our uncle doth not use us well. [Exit.
And. Usurpers use this method still: at first
He as protector slily got the stern,
During our nonage: then the commons' voice,
Bought with a fawning brow and popular grace,
Confirms his regiment;[319] we appointed sharers,
With empty titles to beguile our thoughts,
Like puppet-lords dress'd up with crown and scarf,
Glad that we live and hunt, and reign o'er brutes—
Our uncle is the king who,[320] when he saw
His throne establish'd and his foes repuls'd,
Grown big with prosperous fortune, proudly spurns
All fear of God or man.
Man. His anger, nurs'd by jealousies, must feed
On princes' flesh, who lose both state and life,
If they but look awry. A tyrant's growth,
Rear'd up by ruins, thence may learn his fall:
For whom all fear, he justly feareth all.
And. In antiphons[321] thus tune we female plaints;
But plots and force beseem us. Thus great Cæsar
Shall pull him down below us. Thou, Mandubrace,
Sure pledges take of our revolt, and quickly
Implore his aid, blow up his drooping fire
With hopeful terms. But let him stronger come.
Man. I fly unseen, as charmers[322] in a mist.
Grateful revenge, whose sharp-sweet relish fats
My apprehensive soul![323] though all were pared off
Which doth accrue from fortune, and a man left
As barely poor as nature thrust him out;
Nay worse—though spirits boil: rage, anger, care,
And grief, like wild-horse, tear the affrighted mind;
Though wrongs excoriate the heart; yet all is sweeten'd
If vengeance have her course. I reck[324] not how;
Let commonwealth expire, and owls proclaim
Sad desolation in our halls; let heaps
Of dust and rubbish epitaph our towns;
Let fire and water fight, who first shall spoil
This universal frame. From north or south,
Revenge, th' art welcome! No sin worse than pity;
A tyrant's only physic is phlebotomy. [Exeunt.
SCENE IX.
Chorus.
1st Song.
Rejoice, O Britain!
Britain, O, rejoice!
The stormy cloud pass'd o'er,
And only made a noise.
A clattering sound was heard,
And still we felt no wound:
Rejoice, rejoice,
Thou happy Britons' ground.
O that sweet Plenides,
Eloquent Orone,
Were now to chant our victories
With a melodious tone;
And rousing echo from the dales,
With Harmony to sound:
Rejoice, rejoice,
Thou happy Britons' ground.
2d Song.
Gang, ye lads and lasses,
Sa wimble and sa wight:
Fewl mickle teen betide ye,
If ye ligg in this plight.
Be bonny, buxom, jolly,
Trip haydegues[325] belive;
And gif night gars the welkin merk,
Tom piper do you blive.
Hidder, eke and shidder,
With spic'd sew ycram'd;
Sa that unneath thilke borrels
May well ne yede, ne stand:
As leefe as life do weete it,
When timbarins giu sound;
Fore harvest gil prankt up in lathe,
To loute it low around.[326]
ACT IV., SCENE I.
Cæsar, Volusenus, Attendants.
Cæs. A story is't or fable that, stern Mars,
Thy weight did Romulus' sleepy mother press?
Since we, thy brood degenerous, stand at gaze,
Charm'd in the circle of a foaming flood,
And trail our dastard pikes? Burst, Janus' prison!
Roar as thou didst at Troy, drown Stentor's voice
By many eighths,[327] which Pindus may re-beat,
Which Caucasus may as a catch repeat,
And Taurus lough the same:[328] that pigmies small
May squeak, it thunders, and dive into burrows.
Let the four winds with dreadful clamours sing
Thy anger through th' affrighted world.
What Lemnian chain shackles our mounting eagle?
The moon's round concave is too strait a cage
For her advanced pinions.
Enter Mandubratius,[329] wounded and bloody, with
Androgeus's young son.
Man. If pity can have room in angry breast,
Favour a Briton prince, his father slain,
His regiment bereft, his dearest blood
Drawn by the sword of false Cassibelane,
Having got crown, he then struck at my head;
Nor can I safely suck my native air.
His coz Androgeus also and whole regions
In open war withstand his violence,
Lo, Albion's aged arms spread wide t'enchain
Thee, as her patron, in a true-love knot.
Wherefore, dread Cæsar, let thy mercy strike
Revengeful fires, and be justly styled, [Kneels.
Tamer of tyrants. Then fame blows aloud,
When valour helps the weak, pulls down the proud.
Cæs. Arise, unhappy prince, our deeds shall show
We grant thy suit. Fortune repents at last;
[To Volusenus.
The moon is chang'd, the globe doth to us turn
Her shining cheek, and wooes us with a smile.
But what firm signs of faith, what faithful aid,
What furtherance, can you give at our arrival?
Man. See here Androgeus' heir, whose tender age
His father ventures, and makes bold with nature
To pledge his darling. He and thirty more
Of noble lineage shall assure our faith;
Besides I pawn my life.
Cæs. Enough. I'll once more cross the seas:
For your good more than mine; that happier sky
May bless your towns with peace, your fields with plenty;
Perpetual spring, in gay perfum'd attire,
Sirname your isle the garden of the west.
Man. Thanks, gracious Cæsar, for this kind acceptance,
My knee doth kiss the ground, my lip your knee.
Pardon, ye gods, if any haunt our land,
Ye nymphs and lares, fawns and sylvans wild,
That thus I bring a stranger on our coasts,
Whose foreign shape and language may affright
Our lazy clowns, and on my country's back
Once tread victorious steps. Be pleas'd to view
Wrongs now redress'd, neglected first by you.
Cæs. Now, Volusene,
Our glorious state, like the noon-pointed sun,
When he bestrides the lion's flaming fleece,
Doth north-west roll his burning brand, whose fire
The ocean's blue lake cannot stop, but flies
With brighter blaze to thaw the frozen isles.
But how proceeds our preparation?
Vol. Many strong ships are built, five legions arm'd
Ready to launch.
Cæs. Blow gently, Africus:
Play on our poops. When Hyperion's son
Shall couch in west his foam-bedappl'd jades,
We'll rise to run our course.
SCENE II.
Eul. Though Orpheus' harp, Arion's lute, the chimes
Whose silver sound did Theban towers raise:
Though sweet Urania with her ten-string'd lyre,
Unto whose stroke the daily-rolling spheres
Dance their just measures, should with tune and tone
Tickle my air-bred ear; yet can their notes
Those fabulous stones more enter, than my soul.
Lead, poppy, slumber, stupefy my heart;
But Bedlam grief acts gambols in my brain.
The Centaur's wheel, Prometheus' hawk, the vulture
Of Tityus, Sisyphus' never-mossy stone,
The tale of Danaids' tub and Tantalus' gaping,
Are but flea-bitings to my smart. I've slain
A kinsman—more, a friend I dearly lov'd:
Nay more, no cause provoking, but in rash
And hellish choler.
I thought my love had cannon-proof been 'gainst
A world of injuries; when see, all is split
By a small wind. Cursed be thou, my sword,
The instrument of fury! cursed hand,
Which mad'st the thrust! but most accursed part,
Whose ruddy flesh triangular boil'd in flame,
Like an Ætnean or Vesuvian salamander!
That breast I so could hug, that faithful breast,
That snowy white, I with dark sanguine stain'd;
And from the wound's red lips his panting heart
Did seem to say, Is this a friendly deed?
O no, Hirildas: bears can harmless play,
Lions can dally, and sheathe up their claws;
I only, worst of brutes, kill friends in jest.
Why does Androgeus, kindly-cruel, keep
Me from their sentence? say, law bids me die;
If law should not, I'll make that law myself.
Shall ensigns be display'd, and nations rage
About so vile a wretch? shall foreign hoofs
Kick up our trembling dust, and must a Cæsar
Redeem my folly with a kingdom's fall?
First may I stop black Cerberus' triple jaws.
Die, die! thou hast outliv'd thyself. Thou only,
Phœnix of females, still dost bind and bound
My runagate spirit in these walls of mud;
From thee and for thee 'tis I breathe. Yet how
Borrow can I his shape, or use mine own?
Odious before, now worse than hell-born goblin,
With brand and chains to scare this dove, all quaking
'Twixt wrath and fear. But time may favour win;
When hope doth fail, then knife or rope begin. [Exit.
SCENE III.
Cassibelanus, Belinus, Rollano.
Cas. Wisdom, confirm my sense! what seem'd their number?
Rol. Rising from shore, conjecture might descry
A thousand ships with painted prows to pave
The briny fields of Neptune; their broad sails
Did Nereus canopy, Titan's taper veil.
As nations twenty-nine 'gainst Troy built up
A floating Delos of a thousand ships,
To plough the liquid glass; no frame of Pallas,
No crafty Sinon; but those wooden horse
Did Troy dis-Troy. So Troynovant shall feel
Her mother's fate; Achilles comes again,
And Pergamus again shall sink in dust;
They threaten. [Exit.
Cas. Wonder! what can their arsenals spawn so fast?
Last year his barks and galleys were debosh'd;[330]
This spring they sprout again: belike their navy,
Like the Lernæan adder, faster grows
The more 'tis prun'd. They come their last. Lord deputy,
Lead on the present troops, and levy new.
'Twere best, I think, to let him land, lest view
Of his huge navy should our commons fright.
Retire ourselves to some place of advantage,
Entice him from his ships; so cut the veins
Which nourish both: enclos'd he cannot 'scape.
Bel. I rather judge, we should oppose his footing,
Using the benefit of our natural mound.
Cas. Uncertain 'tis where—when, he makes inroad:
To furnish all, unlikely: to neglect
Any were dangerous as Pelides' heel,
Our shores are large and level: then t' attend
His time and leisure would exhaust the state—
Weary our soldiers.
Bel. All places may be strengthen'd more or less,
As by last year discretion now may guess.
The clifts themselves are bulwarks strong: the shelves
And flats refuse great ships: the coast so open,
That every stormy blast may rend their cables,
Put them from anchor; suffering double war:
Their men pitch'd battle, and ships naval fight.
For charges 'tis no season to dispute:
Spend something or lose all. Shall he maintain
A fleet t' enthral us, we detract small costs.
When freedom, life and kingdom lie at stake?
Cas. But the assailants are the flower of Italy,
Back'd with four hundred Gallic horse, all tried
And gallant troops, join'd in one martial body,
To give a fuller stroke; when we defendants,
Scatter'd along, can weak resistance make;
Plainness of ground affording us no shelter.
Bel. For what serve sart and engines, mounds and trenches,
But to correct the nature of a plain?
A few on firm land may keep out a million
Weaken'd by sea, false footing, billows' rage,
And pond'rous arms; when as, receiv'd within,
He prospers by our spoil: we feed a viper,
And malcontents and rebels have a refuge.
Nor were it safe to venture all at once;
When one fought field being lost, swift ruin runs,
And rushing throws down all.
Cas. We know our strength and his; we'll fight in field
Some dozen miles from sea. An open theatre
Gives lustre to our prowess: to keep him out
Supposes fear, not manhood. No, let him march,
Till he rouse Death, and stride his future grave.
Bel. Your will commands, and mine obeys. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Cæsar, &c. Ensign, drum, trumpet, flag, Soldiers,
Shipmen. The noise of landing.
Cæs. The coast is clear; our honour is the goal.
In vain doth Tagus' yellow sand obey,
Rhine's horned front and nimble Tigris running
For wager with the wind, which skims his top;
In vain from Ganges to Hesperian Gades,
The bounds mark'd out by Jove's two base-born sons[331]
Our echo'd name doth sound, if we recoil
From hence again not victors.
Ye pilots old, who were begot mermaids,
Whose element is their sea, bred and brought up
In cradles rock'd with storms and wooden walls.
Fear not to grapple with the seas. Fear not
Their bulks, brave veterans; that extended mass
Is not of iron, but can bleed and die:
They were not dipp'd in Styx, nor are they giants
Or wild poetic Centaurs we assail.
Let then this voyage quit out credit lost,
And let rage lash on courage. Here's the game;
Life may be lost, but (sure) we'll hold fast fame!
[They march about and go out. The whole
battle within.
Cassibelanus, Belinus, &c., Soldiers.
Cas. Our first attempt doth prosper: they retiring
Scud to the bosom of their fir-tree vaults,
And under hatches hide themselves from death.
The Cornish band made havoc of their ranks,
Like Scythian wolves 'midst of a bleating fold:
The jingling lances, rattling chariot-wheels,
Madded their horse. The bowmen merrily shot.
Bel. Yet would our tributary kings had succour'd!
We are decay'd, they much in number grown,
And surely will make head again.
Cas. Fear not; thou know'st I can even with a whistle
Hide Kent with glitt'ring arms. More flaming sparkles
Paint not a freezing night; nor speckl'd bees
Buz not about sweet Hybla's bloomy head.
But what need millions, when some thousand serve?
O, did my brother live! we'd climb the Alps.
Like brave Mulmutius' sons: make Romulus' wolf
Howl horror in their streets, and Rome look pale,
As when the Punic captain[332] ey'd her walls. [March out.
Cæsar, Volusenus, &c.
Cæs. Are ye the men, who never fought in vain?
Who wear Bellona's favours in your scars?
Ay, ye are they. What then benumbs our spirits?
Our empire from Quirinus' narrow centre
Doth circling spread, and finds no brink nor bottom.
Titan no later sets nor earlier wakes,
Than he beholds our provinces. Why, then,
What privilege hath this place? have we or they
The Phrygian powers? have they Palladium got?
No, no; those gods our capitol keeps with joy;
These only have undaunted minds from Troy.
Enter Q. Atrius.
What news, good Atrius?
Atrius. No good news from Atrius.
When ominous earth with shade and cloudy vapours
Had darkness doubled, storms began to sound,
The dappl'd south, rough-footed Aquilo,
Came rushing like two rams, whose steeled horns
Dart fiery sparks: the clouds (crush'd) breathe out flames:
Thunder and lightning daunt all ears and eyes:
The winds and billows strive who loudest roar:
The sky distill'd in rain: his room to fill,
Ambitious waves would climb the starry hill.
Our ships are batter'd all, some forty sunk.
Cæs. What devil Cacus drags our fortune back![333]
Doth she move retrograde, and hoist us up,
That we may fall at height? why doth Camillus
Each night torment my sleep, and cry revenge?
I strive against the stream.
Enter Androgeus, Mandubratius, Soldiers.
And. Thus join we standards; and resign the keys
Of Troynovant with all our warlike forces.
Man. By me the Trinobants[334] submit, and Cenimagnians,
Segontiacs, Ancalites, Bybrocs, and Cassians:
Six worthy nations do desire thy guard.
Cæs. All, all shall know our love.
Man. The tyrant lies on Isis' flow'ry banks,
Where a full choir sing of white surplic'd swans.
The ford's unlevel belly they have fenc'd
With sharp stakes under water.
Cæs. Nor stakes, lakes, fords, nor swords shall check our progress.
Those downy swans shall hear more funeral notes.
Their kings departed, Nennius dead, whose loss
Would tears extort even from pumicean eyes:
Had Britain nurs'd but such another champion,
They might have stuck their darts on our barr'd gates,
And Latium trembled with contrary fates.[335]
In what now lies their hope?
Man. Great numbers still remain: nay, worse, they laugh
At death, and boldly trust (as Druids preach)
Their souls who die in fight shall live in joy.
Hence count they dangers benefits, and die
With freedom in their mouth and wilful rage.
But let soft mildness wait on women; let
Thy wrath ring through the woods in dusty noise,
To tell thy coming. No man's built so lofty,
But his foundation meets the humble dust;
Which undermin'd, how high he pierc'd the clouds,
So deep he sinks.
Hostile and civil foes shake top and root,
As winds invade above and mines below.
And so will we.
Cæs. No doubt: this blow shall like an earthquake move
The roots and pillars of this sea-clipp'd isle.
A cloud of vultures shall attend our camp,
And no more shall the fields bear vert, but gules:[336]
The grain, engrain'd in purple dye, shall lose
His verdant hue. Bones, marrow, human limbs
Shall putrifying reek, whose vapour'd slime,
Kindl'd on high, may breed long-bearded stars,
To tell more mischief, and outbeard Apollo.
Man. Let's waste no time, lest more unto him flock,
As humours glide to guard the wounded member.
Cæs. Atrius, let our ships be drawn on shore,
New-rigg'd and mended. I must needs confess him
A darling of the gods, under whose colours
Stars, winter, sky, and tempests serve in pay,
And know both march and skirmish by his drum. [Exeunt.
SCENE V.
Rollano, Eulinus hearkening.
Rol. O my dear lady, hast thou slain thyself?
So fairly pure, so kindly chaste, so—— [Cries.
A Venus and Diana mix'd in one.
She ate her meat with studs of pearl, she kiss'd
With rubies, and she look'd with diamonds bright.
Fish seas, and fowl the air, hunt all the earth,
For such another bit, and lose your labour.
Eul. O, why dost thou complain?
Rol. Had she not kill'd herself, no cruel Atropos,
No fury could for pity cut her thread.
She was the loadstone of all eyes, the whetstone
Of all brains, the touchstone of all hearts! she was——
[Cries.
Eul. O, my presaging thoughts in ugly form
Suggest some tragedy. Speak—yet stay awhile;
I know thou kill'st with speaking. Be then dumb:
Let sound ne'er give those notions airy robes.
Yet speak! despatch me; fear's as bad as death.
O, could no tongue affirm it! Is she dead?
Rol. My mistress is.
Eul. Wither, ye pleasant gardens, where she trod!
White lilies droop, and blasted daisies wink,
And weep in pearly dew! blind Vesper mourn;
Hang thy cold tears on ev'ry grassy blade!
Groan loud, ye woods, and tear your leafy hair!
Let wind and hoary frost kill every flow'r;
For she is gone who made continual May
Let foggy mists envelope sun and stars;
For she is gone who made perpetual day.
Confounded nature, stand amaz'd; dissolve
Thy rolling engines, and unbrace the seas;
Fling all into their first disorder'd lump;
For thy chief paragon, thy rich masterpiece,
The jewel for which thou didst venture all,
Is lost, is lost! And can I live to speak it?
How died she?
Rol. By a poison'd draught.
Eul. The very word poison infects my breath.
Durst thou presume to pass that coral porch?
Were not her lips sufficient antidote?
Durst thou descend through those close-winding stairs
With treacherous intent? How could thy venom
Seize on her, and not (sweeten'd) lose his virtue,
Or rather vicious quality? may toads,
Dragons, and mandrakes be thy gally-pots!
This body was a casket for the graces,
No cask for poison. With her dies all love.
Cupid may break his bow, his arrows burn,
Then quench his taper in a flood of tears.
Is she dead?
Rol. Or in a long trance?
Eul. She may revive.
I'll visit her. Art may prolong her days,
Whether she will or no. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
Chorus.