Cara.
Learn to spin,
and curse your knotted hemp: goe Gentlemen,
Exeunt Daughters.
safely go off, up to your troops: be wiser,
there thank me like tall Souldiers: I shall seek ye.
Exit Caratach.
Cur.
He blushes, do not load him.
Dec.
Where's your love now? Drums loud again.
Jun.
Puffe, there it flies: Come, let's redeem our follies.
Exeunt Junius, Curius, Decius.
Dru.
Awake, Sir; yet the Roman Bodie's whole,
I see 'em cleer again.
Pen.
Whole? 'tis not possible:
Drusus, they must be lost.
Dru.
By — they are whole, Sir,
and in brave doing; see, they wheel about
to gain more ground.
Pen.
But see there Drusus, see,
see that huge Battell moving from the mountains,
their gilt coats shine like Dragons scales, their march
like a rough tumbling storm; see them, and view 'em,
and then see Rome no more: say they faile; look,
look where the armed carts stand; a new Army:
look how they hang like falling rocks, as murdring
death rides in triumph Drusus: fell destruction
lashes his fiery horse, and round about him
his many thousand wayes to let out soules.
Move me again when they charge, when the mountain
melts under their hot wheels, and from their Ax'trees
huge claps of thunder plough the ground before 'em,
till then I'll dream what Rome was.
Enter Swetonius, Petillius, Demetrius, Macer.
Swet.
O bravely fought; honour till now nere show'd
her golden face i'th' field. Like lions, Gentlemen,
y' have held your heads up this day: Where's yong Junius,
Curius, and Decius?
Petill.
Gone to heaven, I think, Sir.
Sw.
Their worths go with 'em: breath a while: How do ye?
Pet.
Wel; some few scurvie wounds, my heart's whole yet.
Dem.
Would they would give us more ground.
Swet.
Give? wee'll have it.
Petill.
Have it? and hold it too, despight the divell.
Enter Junius, Decius, Curius.
Jun.
Lead up to th' head, and line sure: the Qs. Battell begins to charge like wild-fire: Where's the Generall?
Swet.
Oh, they are living yet. Come, my brave souldiers,
come, let me powr Romes blessing on ye; Live,
live, and lead Armies all: ye bleed hard.
Jun.
Best:
wee sh••ll appear the sterner to the foe.
Dec.
More wounds, more honour.
Swet.
Away then,
and stand this shock, ye have stood the world.
Petill.
Wee'll grow to't.
Is not this better now then lowsie loving?
Jun.
I am my self, Petillius.
Petill.
'Tis I love thee. Exeunt Romans.
Enter Bonduca, Caratach, Daughters, Nennius.
Car.
Charge 'em i'th' flanks: O ye have plaid the fool, the fool extremely, the mad fool.
Car.
The woman fool. Why did you give the word
unto the carts to charge down, and our people
in grosse before the Enemie? we pay for't,
our own swords cut our throats: why? — on't,
Why do you offer to command? the divell,
the divell, and his dam too, who bid you
meddle in mens affairs? Exeunt Queen, &c.
Car.
Home,
home and spin woman, spin, go spin, ye trifle.
Open before there, or all's ruine. How, Showts within.
now comes the tempest; on our selves, by—
Victoria within.
O woman, scurvie woman, beastly woman. Exeunt.
Dru.
They win, they win, they win; oh look, look, look, Sir, for heavens sake look, the Britains fly, the Britains fly. Vi∣ctoria.
Enter Swetonius, Souldiers, and Captains.
Swet.
Soft, soft, pursue it soft; excellent Souldiers,
close, my brave fellows, honourable Romans:
oh cool thy mettle Junius, they are ours,
the world cannot redeem 'em: stern Petillius,
govern the conquest nobly: soft, good Souldiers.
Enter Bonduca, Daughters, and Britains.
Bond.
Shame, whither flie ye, ye unluckie Britains?
Will ye creep into your mothers wombs again? Back cowards,
Hares, fearfull Hares, Doves in your angers; leave me?
leave your Queen desolate? her haplesse children
Enter Caratach and Hengo.
to Roman rape again and fury?
Car.
Flie, ye buzzards,
ye have wings enough, ye fear: get thee gone, woman,
Loud showt within.
shame tread upon thy heels: all's lost, all's lost, heark,
heark how the Romans ring our knels. Ext. Bond. &c.
Hen.
Good Uncle,
let me go too.
Car.
No boy, thy fortune's mine,
I must not leave thee; get behind me; shake not,
Enter Petillius, Junius, Decius.
I'll breech ye, if ye do boy: Come, brave Romans,
all is not lost yet.
Jun.
Now I'll thank thee, Caratach.
Fight. Drums.
Car.
Thou art a Souldier: strike home, home; have at ye.
Pen.
His blows fall like huge sledges on an anvil.
Car.
Send more swords to me.
Jun.
Let's sit and rest. Sit down.
Pen.
O Drusus,
I have lost mine honour, lost my name,
lost all that was my light: these are true Romans,
and I a Britain coward, a base coward;
guide me where nothing is but desolation,
that I may never more behold the face
of man, or mankind know me: O blind Fortune,
hast thou abus'd me thus?
Dru.
Good Sir, be comforted;
it was your wisdome rul'd ye; pray ye go home,
your day is yet to come, when this great fortune
shall be but foile unto it. Retreat.
Pen.
Fool, fool, Coward.
Exit Penyus & Drusus.
Enter Swetonius, Demetrius, Souldiers, Drum and Colours.