Fifty comedies and tragedies written by Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, Gentlemen ; all in one volume, published by the authors original copies, the songs to each play being added.

BONDUCA, A TRAGEDY.

The Persons Represented in the Play.

• Caratach, General of the Britains, Cosin to Bonduca.
• Nenius, A great Soldier, a Britain Commander.
• Hengo, A brave boy, Nephew to Caratach.
• Suetonius, General to the Roman Army in Britain
• Penius, A brave Roman Commander, but stubborn to the General.
• Junius, A Roman Captain, in love with Bonduca's Daughter.
• Petilus, A merry Captain, but somewhat wanton.
• ...
  Two Roman Commanders.
  • ...Demetrius,
  • ...Decius,
• ...
  Four Roman Officers
  • ...Regulus,
  • ...Drusus,
  • ...Macer,
  • ...Curius,
• Judas, A Corporal, a merry hungry knave.
• ...Herald.
• ...Druides.
• ...Soldiers.
• ...
  WOMEN.
  • Bonduca, Queen of the Iceni, a brave Virago by Pro∣sutagus.
  • Her two Daughters.

The Scene Britain.

The Principal Actors were

• Richard Burbadge,
• Henry Condel,
• Willam Eglestone,
• Nich. Toolie,
• William Ostler,
• John Lowin,
• John Ʋnderwood,
• Richard Robinson.

Actus Primus,

Scaena Prima

Enter Bonduca, Daughters, Hengo, Nennius, Soldiers.

Bon.

THe hardy Romans? O 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 Caesar? Shame, how they flee! Caesars soft soul dwells in 'em; Their Mothers got. 'em sleeping, Pleasure must 'em, Their Bodies sweat with sweet Oils, Loves allurements, Not lustie Arms. Dare they send these to seek us, These Roman Girls? Is Britain grown so wanton? Twice we have beat 'em. N••nnius scatter'd 'em, And through their big-bon'd Germans, on whose Pikes The honour of their action; sit in triumph, Made Themes for Songs to shame 'em, and a Woman, A Woman beat 'em, N••nnius; a weak Woman, A Woman beat these Romans.

Car.

So it seems. A man would shame to talk so.

Bon.

Who's that?

Car.

I.

Bon.

Cosin, do you grieve at my fortunes:

Car.

No, Bonduca, If I grieve, 'tis at 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 our selves, When we insult upon our honors subject.

Bon.

My valiant Cosin, is it foul to say What liberty and honor bid us do, And what the gods allow us?

Car.

No, Bonduca, So what we say exceed not what we do. Ye call the Romans fearful, fleeing Romans, And Roman Girls, the lees of tainted pleasures: Does this become a doer? are they such?

Bon.

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 Druides 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, Britains, And let the Husbandman redeem his heifers; Put out our holy sires; no Timbrel ring; Let's home, and sleep; for such great overthrows; A Candle burns too bright a sacrifice, A Glow-worms tail too full of flame. O Nennius, Thou hadst a noble Uncle knew a Roman, And how to speak him, how to give him weight In both his fortunes.

Bon.

By—I think Ye doat upon these Romans, Caratach.

Car.

Witness these wounds, I do; they were fairly given, 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 Mistriss. Yellow-tressed Hymen Ne'r ty'd a longing Virgin with more joy, Than I am married to that man that wounds me: And are not all these Romans? Ten struck Battels I suck'd these honour'd f••ars from, and all Roman: Ten years of bitter nights and heavy marches, When many a frozen storm sung thorow my Curasse, And made it doubtful whether that or I Were the more stubborn metall, have I wrought thorow, And all to try these Romans. Ten times a night I have swom the Rivers, when the Stars of Rome Shot at me as I floated, and the billows Tumbled their wa••••y ruin••s on my shoulders, Charging my batter'd sides with troops of Agues; And still to try these Romans, whom I found (And if I lye, 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 slight) as valiant, As vigilant, as wise, to do and suffer, Ever advanced as forward as the Britains, Their sleeps as short, their hopes as high as ours. I, and as subtil, Lady. 'Tis dishonour, And follow'd, will be impudence, Bonduca, And grow to no belief, to taint these Romans. Have not I seen the Britains —

Bon••.

What?

Car.

Disheartned, 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 Lovers wish E'r made that haste that they have. By— I have seen these Britains, that you magnifie, Run as they would have out-run time and roaring Basely for mercy, roaring: the light shadows, That in a thought scur o'r the fields of Corn, Halted on crutches to 'em.

Bon.

O ye Powers, What scandals do I suffer?

Car.

Yes, Bonduca, I have seen thee run too, and thee, Nennius; Yea, run apace, both; then when Penyus The Roman Girl, cut thorow your armed Carts, And drive 'em headlong on ye down the hill: Then when he hunted ye like Britain-Foxes. More by the scent than sight: then did I see These valiant and approved men of Britain; Like boading Owls, creep into tods of Ivie. 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 Romans 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 lye not, Nennius. Neither had ye heard Me speak this, or ever seen the child more, But that the Son of Virtue, Penyus Seeing me steer thorow all these storms of danger, My Helm still in my hand my Sword my prow Turn'd to my soe my face he cry'd out nobly, Go Britain, bear thy Lions 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 art mine. I took his offer, And here I am to honour him.

Bon.

O Cousin, From what a slight of honour hast thou checkt me? What wouldst thou make me, Caratach?

Car.

See, Lady, The noble use of others in our losses: Does this afflict ye? Had the Romans cry'd 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 the 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 Britains were more business, It would have gall'd ye.

Bon.

Let me think we conquer'd.

Car.

Do; but so think, as we may be conquer'd: And where we have found virtue, though 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 burn their mentions with upbraidings?

Bon.

No more, I see my self: 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 given 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.

Bon.

Your reason?

Nen.

Is not peace the end of Arms?

Car.

Not where the cause implies a general conquest:

Had we a difference with some petty Isle, Or with our neighbors (Lady) for our Land-marks, The taking in of some rebellious Lord, Or making a 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 Honors, And with those swords that know no end of Battel: Those men beside themselves allow no neighbor; 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 Honor, that's fair dealing, But in our ends, our swords. That hardy Romane That hopes to graft himself into my stock, Must first begin his kindred under-ground, And be alli'd in ashes.

Bon.

Caratach, As thou hast nobly spoken, shall be done; And Hengo to thy charge I here deliver: The Romans shall have worthy Wars.

Car.

They shall. And, little Sir, when your young bones grow stiffer, And when I see ye able in a morning To beat a dozen boys, and then to breakfast, I'll tye ye to a sword.

Heng.

And what then Uncle?

Car.

Then ye must kill, Sir, the next valiant Romane that calls ye knave.

Hen,

And must I kill but one?

Car.

An hundred, boy, I hope.

Hen.

I hope five hundred.

Car.

That's a noble boy. Come, worthy Lady, Let's to our several charges, and henceforth Allow an enemy both weight and worth.

Exeunt.

Scaena Secunda.

Enter Junius and Petillius, two Roman Captains.

Pet.

What ail'st thou, man? dost thou want meat?

Jun.

No.

Pet.

Clothes?

Jun.

Neither. For heavens love, leave me.

Pet.

Drink?

Jun.

Ye tire me.

Pet.

Come, 'tis drink; I know 'tis drink.

Jun.

Tis no drink.

Pet.

I say 'tis drink: for what affliction Can light so heavy on a Soldier, To dry him up as thou art, but no drink? Thou shalt have drink.

Jun.

Prethee Petillius —

Pet.

And by mine honor, much drink, valiant drink: Never tell me, thou shalt have drink. I see, Like a true friend, into thy wants: 'tis drink; And when I leave thee to a desolation, Especially of that dry nature, hang me.

Jun.

Why do you this to me?

Pet.

For I see. Although your modesty would fain conceal it, Which sits as sweetly on a Soldier, As an old side-saddle.

Jun.

What do you see?

Pet.

I see as far as day, that thou want'st drink. Did I not find thee gaping like an Oyster For a new tide? thy very thoughts lie bare Like a low ebb? thy Soul that rid in Sack, Lies moor'd for want of liquor? Do but see Into thy self; for by—I do: For all thy body's chapt and crackt like timber For want of moisture, what is't thou wantst there, Junius, And if it be not drink?

Jun.

You have too much on't.

Pet.

It may be a whore too; say it be: come, meecher, Thou shalt have both: a pretty valiant fellow, Die for a little lap and lechery? No, it shall ne'r be said in our Countrey, Thou dy'dst o' th' Chin-cough. Hear, thou noble Roman, The Son of her that loves a Soldier, Hear what I promised for thee; thus I said, Lady, I take thy Son to my companion, Lady, I love thy son, thy Son loves War, The war loves danger, danger drink, drink discipline, Which is society and lechery; These two beget Commanders: fear not, Lady, Thy Son shall lead,

Jun.

'Tis a strange thing, Petillius. That so ridiculous and loose a mirth Can master your affections.

Petil.

Any mirth, And any way, of any subject, Junius, Is better than unmanly mustiness: What harm's in drink, in a good wholsome wench? I do beseech ye, Sir, what error? yet It cannot out of my head handsomely, But thou wouldst fain be drunk: come, no more fooling, The General has new wine, new come over.

Jun.

He must have new acquaintance for it too, For I will none, I thank ye.

Pet.

None I thank ye? A short and touchie answer. None I thank ye: Ye do not scorn it, do ye?

Jun.

Gods defend, Sir; I owe him still more honor.

Pet.

None, I thank ye: No company, no drink, no wench, I thank ye. Ye shall be worse intreated, Sir.

Jun.

Petillius, As thou art honest, leave me.

Pet.

None, I thank ye; A modest and a decent resolution, And well put on. Yes, I will leave ye, Junius, And leave ye to the boys, that very shortly Shall all salute ye, by your new sirname Of Junius None I thank ye. I would starve now, Hang, drown, despair, deserve the forks, lie open To all the dangerous passes of a wench, Bound to believe her tears, and wed her aches, E'r I would own thy follies. I have found ye, Your lays, and out-leaps Junius, haunts, and lodges: I have view'd ye, and I have found ye by my skill To be a fool o' th' first head, Junius, And I will hunt ye: ye are in love, I know it: Ye are an ass, and all the Camp shall know it. A peevish idle boy; your Dame shall know it;

Enter Corporal Judas, and four Soldiers.

Jud.

A Bean? a Princely diet, a full Banquet, To what we compass.

1 Sold.

Fight like Hogs for Acorns?

2 Sold.

Venture our lives for Pig-nuts?

Pet.

What ail these Rascals?

3 Sold.

If this hold, we are starv'd.

Jud.

For my part, friends, Which is but twenty Beans a day, a hard world For Officers, and men of action; And those so clipt by master Mouse, and rotten: For understand 'em French Beans, where the fruits Are ripen'd like the people in old tubs. For mine own part, I say, I am starv'd already. Not worth another Bean, consum'd to nothing,

Nothing but flesh and bones left, miserable: Now if this mustie provender can prick me To honourable matters of atchievment, Gentlemen, Why there's the point.

4 Sold.

I'll fight no more.

Petill.

You'll hang then, A sovereign help for hunger. Ye eating Rascals, Whose gods are Beef and Brewis, whose brave angers Do execution upon these, and Chibbals: Ye dogs heads i'th' porridge-pot; you fight no more? Does Rome depend upon your resolution For eating mouldy Pie-crust?

3. Sold.

Would we had it.

Jud.

I may do service, Captain.

Petill.

In a Fish-market. You, Corporal Curry-Comb, what will your fighting Profit the Common-wealth? do you hope to triumph, Or dare your vamping valour, goodman Cobler, Clap a new soul to th' Kingdom? s'death, ye dog-whelps You, fight, or not fight.

Jud.

Captain.

Petill.

Out, ye flesh-flies, Nothing but noise and nastiness.

Jud.

Give us meat, Whereby we may do.

Petill.

Whereby hangs your valour?

Jud.

Good bits afford good blows.

Petill.

A good position: How long is't since thou eat'st last, wipe thy mouth, And then tell truth.

Jud.

I have not eat to th' purpose—

Petill.

To th' purpose? what's that? half a Cow and Garlick? Ye Rogues, my company eat Turf, and talk not; Timber they can digest, and fight upon't; Old matts, and mud with spoons, rare meats. Your shooes slaves? Dare ye cry out for hunger, and those extant? Suck your Sword-hilts, ye slaves, if ye be valiant, Honor will make 'em march-pain: to the purpose? A grievous penance. Dost thou see that Gentleman, That melancholly Monsieur?

Jun.

Pray ye, Petillius.

Pet.

He has not ••at these three weeks.

2 Sold.

'Has drunk the more then,

3 Sold.

And that's all one.

Petill.

Nor drunk nor slept these two months.

Jud.

Captain, we do beseech you as poor Soldiers, Men that have seen good days, whose mortal stomachs May sometime feel afflictions.

Jun.

This, Petillius, Is not so nobly done.

Petill.

'Tis common profit; Urge him to th' point, he'll find you out a food That needs no teeth nor stomach; a strange furmity Will feed ye up as fat as hens i' th' foreheads, And make ye fight like Fichocks, to him.

Jud.

Captain.

Jun.

Do you long to have your throats cut?

Petill.

See what metal It makes in him: two meals more of this melancholly, And there lies Caratach.

Jud.

We do beseech ye,

2 Sold.

Humbly beseech your valour.

Jun.

Am I only Become your sport Petillius,?

Jud.

But to render In way of general good, in preservation.

Jun.

Out of my thoughts, ye slaves.

4 Sold.

Or rather pity.

3 Sold.

Your warlike remedy against the maw-worms.

Jud.

Or notable receipt to live by nothing.

Petill.

Out with your Table-books.

Jun.

Is this true friendship? And must my killing-griefs make others May-games? Stand from my swords point, slaves, your poor starv'd spirits Can make me no oblations; else, O love, Thou proudly blind destruction, I would send thee Whole Hecatombs of hearts, to bleed my sorrows.

Jud.

Alas, he lives by love, Sir.

Exit Junius.

Pet.

So he does, Sir, And cannot you do so too? All my Company Are now in love, ne'r think of meat, nor talk Of what Provant is: Aymees, and Hearty hey-hoes, Are Sallets fit for Soldiers. Live by meat; By larding up your bodies? 'tis lewd, and lazie, And shews ye meerly mortal, dull, and drives ye To fight like Camels, with baskets at your noses. Get ye in love; ye can whore well enough, That all the world knows: fast ye into Famine, Yet ye can crawl like Crabs to wenches, handsomely, Fall but in love now, as ye see example, And follow it but with all your thoughts, probatum, There's so much charge sav'd, and your hunger's ended. Away, I hear the General: get ye in love all,

Drum afar off.

Up to the ears in love, that I may hear No more of these rude murmurings; and discreetly Carry your stomachs, or I prophesie A pickel'd Rope will choak ye. Jog, and talk not.

Exeunt.

Enter Swetonius, Demetrius, Decius, Drum, Colours.

Swet.

Demetrius, is the messenger dispatch'd To Penyus, to command him to bring up The Volans Regiment?

Dem.

He's there by this time.

Swet.

And are the Horse well view'd we brought from (Mona)

Dec.

The Troops are full, and lusty.

Swet.

Good Petillius, Look to those eating Rogues, that bawl for victuals, And stop their throats a day or two: provision Waits but the wind to reach us.

Pet.

Sir, already I have been tampring with their stomachs, which I find As deaf as Adders to delays: your clemency Hath made their murmurs, mutinies, nay, rebellions: Now, and they want but Mustard, they'r in uproars No oil but Candy, Lusitanian Figs And Wine from Lesbos now can satisfie 'em: The British waters are grown dull and muddy, The fruit disgustful: Orontes must be sought for, And Apples from the happy Isles: the truth is, They are more curious now in having nothing, Than if the sea and land turn'd up their treasures: This lost the Colonies, and gave Bonduca (With shame we must record it) time and strength To look into our Fortunes; great discretion To follow offered Victory; and last, full pride To brave us to our teeth, and scorn our ruines.

Swet.

Nay, chide not, good Petillius, I confess My will to conquer Mona, and long stay To execute that Will, let in these losses: All shall be right again, and as a Pine Rent from Oeta by a sweeping tempest, Joynted again, and made a Mast, defies Those angry winds that split him: so will I, Piec'd to my never-failing strength and fortune, Steer thorow these swelling dangers; plow their prides up, And bear like thunder through their loudest tempests: They keep the field still.

Dem.

Confident and full.

Pet.

In such a number, one would swear they grew, The hills are wooded with their partizans. And all the valleys overgrown with darts, As moors are with rank rushes: no ground left us To charge upon, no room to strike: say fortune And our endeavours bring us in to 'em, They are so infinite, so ever-springing. We shall be kill'd with killing; of desperate Women, That neither fear, or shame e'r found, the devil

Has rank'd amongst 'em multitudes: say the men fail, They'll poison us with their petticoats: say they fail, They have priests enough to pray us into nothing.

Sweet.

These are imaginations, dreams of nothing, The man that doubts or fears.

Dec.

I am free of both.

Dem.

The self-same I.

Petill.

And I as free as any; As careless of my flesh, of that we call life, So I may lose it nobly; as indifferent As if it were my diet. Yet, noble General, It was a wisdom learn'd from you; I learn'd it, And worthy of a Soldiers care, most worthy, To weigh with most deliberate circumstance The ends of accidents, above their offers; How to go on and get, to save a Roman, Whose one life is more worth in way of doing, Than millions of these painted wasps; how viewing To find advantage out; how; how, found, to follow it With counsel and discretion, lest meer fortune Should claim the victory.

Sweet.

'Tis true, Petillius, And worthily remembred: the rule's certain, Their uses no less excellent: but where time Cuts off occasions, danger, time and all Te•••••• to a present peril, 'tis required Our Sword; and Manhoods be best counsellors, Our expeditions, presidents. To win, is nothing, Where reason, time and counsel are our Camp-masters: But there to bear the field, then to be conquerors, Where pale destruction takes us, takes us beaten, In wants, and mutinies, our selves but handfuls, And to our selves, our own fears, needs a new way, A sudden and a desperate execution: Here, how to save, is loss; to be wise, dangerous; Only a present well-united strength, And minds made up for all attempts, dispatch it: Disputing and delay here, cools the courage; Necessity gives time for doubts, things infinite, According to the spirit they are preach'd to; Rewards like them; and names for after-ages, Must steel the Soldier; his own shame help to arm him; And having forc'd his spirit, e'r he cools. Fling him upon his enemies; sudden and swift, Like Tigers amongst Foxes, we must fight for't: Fury must be our Fortune; shame we have lost, Spurs ever in our sides to prick us forward: There is no other wisdom nor discretion Due to this day of ruine, but destruction; The Soldiers order first, and then his anger.

Dem.

No doubt they dare redeem all.

Swet.

Then no doubt The day must needs be ours. That the proud Woman Is infinite in number, better likes me, Than if we dealt with squadrons: half her Army Shall choak themselves, their own swords dig their graves. I'll tell ye all my fears, one single valour, The virtues of the valiant Caratach More doubts me than all Britain: he's a Soldier So forg'd out, and so temper'd for great fortunes, So much man thrust into him, so old in dangers, So fortunate in all attempts, that his mere name Fights in a thousand men, himself in millions, To make him Roman. But no more. Petillius, How stands your charge?

Petill.

Ready for all employments, To be commanded too, Sir.

Swet.

'Tis well govern'd; To morrow we'll draw out, and view the Cohorts: I'th' mean time, all apply their offices. Where's Junius?

Petill.

In's Cabin, Sick o'th'mumps, Sir.

Swet.

How?

Petill.

In love, indeed in love, most lamentably loving, To the tune of Queen Dido.

Dec.

Alas poor Gentleman.

Swet.

'Twill make him fight the nobler. With what Lady? I'll be a spokesman for him.

Petill.

You'll scant speed, Sir.

Swet.

Who is't?

Petill.

The devil's dam, Bonduca's daughter, Her youngest, crackt i' th' ring.

Swet.

I am sorry for him: But sure his own discretion will reclaim him, He must deserve our anger else. Good Captains, Apply your selves in all the pleasing forms Ye can, unto the Soldiers; fire their spirits, And set 'em fit to run this action; Mine own provision shall be shar'd amongst 'em, Till more come in: tell 'em, if now they conquer, The fat of all the kingdom lies before 'em. Their shames forgot, their honors infinite, And want for ever banisht. Two days hence, Our fortunes, and our swords, and gods be for us.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus.

Scaena Prima.

Enter Penyus, Regulus, Macer, Drusius.

Pen.

I must come?

Ma.

So the General commands, Sir.

Pen.

I must bring up my Regiment?

Ma.

Believe, Sir, I bring no lye.

Pen.

But did he say, I must come?

Ma.

So delivered.

Pen.

How long is't; Regulus, since I commanded In Britain here?

Reg.

About five years, great Penyus.

Pen.

The General some five months. Are all my actions So poor, and lost, my services so barren, That I'm remembred in no nobler language But Must come up?

Ma.

I do beseech ye, Sir, Weigh but the times estate.

Pen.

Yes, good Lieutenant, I do, and his that sways it. Must come up; Am I turn'd bare Centurion? Must, and shall, Fit Embasses to court my honor?

Ma.

Sir—

Pen.

Set me to lead a handful of my men Against an hundred thousand barbarous slaves That have marcht name by name with Romes best doers? Serve 'em up some other meat; I'll bring no food To stop the jaws of all those hungry wolfs. My Regiment's mine own. I must, my language.

Enter Curius.

Cur.

Penyus, where lies the Host?

Pen.

Where fate may find 'em.

Cur.

Are they ingirt?

Pen.

The Battel's lost.

Cur.

So soon?

Pen.

No; but 'tis lost, because it must be won: The Britains must be Victors. Who e'r saw A troop of bloody vultures hovering About a few corrupted carcasses, Let him behold the silly Roman host, Girded with millions of fierce Britains Swains, With deaths as many as they have had hopes,

And then go thither, he that loves his shame; I scorn my life, yet dare not lose my name.

Cur.

Do not you hold it a most famous end, When both our names and lives are sacrific'd For Romes increase?

Pen.

Yes, Curius; but mark this too; What glory is there, or what lasting Fame Can be to Rome or us? what full example, When one is smother'd with a multitude, And crouded in amongst a nameless press? Honor got out of Flint, and on their heads Whose virtues, like the Sun, exhal'd all valours, Must not be lost in mists and fogs of people, Noteless, and out of name, but rude and naked: Nor can Rome task us with impossibilities, Or bid us fight against a flood: we serve her, That she may proudly say she has good soldiers, Not slaves to choak all hazards. Who but fools, That make no difference betwixt certain dying, And dying well, would sling their Fames and Fortunes Into this Britain-gulf, this quick-sand ruine, That sinking, swallows us, What noble hand Can find a subject fit for blood there? or what sword Room for his execution? What air to cool us, But poison'd with their blasting breaths and curses, Where we lie buried quick above the ground, And are with labouring sweat, and breathless pain, Kill'd like to slaves, and cannot kill again?

Dru.

Penyus, mark antient Wars, and know that then Captains weigh'd an hundred thousand men.

Pen.

Drusius, mark antient wisdom, and you'll find then, He gave the overthrow that sav'd his men, I must not go.

Reg.

The soldiers are desirous, Their Eagles all drawn out, Sir.

Pen.

Who drew up, Regulus? Ha? speak: did you whose bold Will durst attempt this? Drawn out? why, who commands, Sir? on whose warrant Durst they advance?

Reg.

I keep mine own obedience.

Dru.

'Tis like the general cause, their love of honor, Relieving of their wants.

Pen.

Without my knowledge? Am I no more? my place but at their pleasures? Come, who did this?

Dru.

By—Sir, I am ignorant.

Drum softly within; then enter Soldiers with Drum and Colours.

Pen.

What am I grown a shadow? Harke, they march. I will know, and will be my self. Stand, disobedience; He that advances one foot higher, dies for't. Run thorow the Regiment upon your duties, And charge 'em on command: beat back again, By—I'll tith'em all else

Reg.

We'll do out best.

Exeunt Drusius and Regulus

Pen.

Back; cease your bawling Drums there, I'll beat the Tubs about your brains else. Back: Do I speak with less fear than Thunder to ye? Must I stand to beseech ye? home, home: ha? Do ye stare upon me? Are those minds I moulded, Those honest valiant tempers I was proud To be a fellow to, those great discretions Made your names fear'd and honor'd, turn'd to wild-fires? O gods, to disobedience? Command, farewel: And be ye witness with me, all things sacred, I have no share in these mens shames. March, Soldiers, And seek your own sad ruines; your old Penyus Dares not behold your murders.

Sold.

Captain.

2 Sold.

Captain.

3 Sold.

Dear honour'd Captain.

Pen.

Too too dear lov'd Soldiers, Which made ye weary of me: and Heaven yet knows, Though in your mutinies, I dare not hate you; Take your own Wills; 't is fit your long experience Should now know how to rule your selves: I wrong ye, In wishing ye to save your lives and credits, To keep your necks whole from the Ax hangs o'r ye: Alas, I much dishonour'd ye: go, seek the Britains, And say ye come to glut their sacrifices; But do not say I sent ye. What ye have been, How excellent in all parts, good, and govern'd, Is only left of my Command, for story; What now ye are, for pitie. Fare ye well.

Enter Drusius and Regulus.

Dru.

Oh turn again, great Penyus; see the Soldier In all points apt for duty.

Reg.

See his sorrow For his disobedience, which he says was haste, And haste (he thought) to please you with. See Captain, The toughness of his courage turn'd to water; See how his manly heart melts.

Pen.

Go, beat homeward, There learn to eat your little with obedience, And henceforth strive to do as I direct ye.

Exeunt Soldiers.

Ma.

My answer, Sir.

Pen.

Tell the Great General My Companies are no fagots to fill breaches; My self no man that must, or shall, can carry: Bid him be wise; and where he is, he's sa••e then; And when he finds out possibilities, He may command me. Commend me to the Captains.

Ma.

All this I shall deliver.

Pen.

Farewel, Macer.

Exit Penyus.

Cur.

Pray gods this breed no mischief.

Reg.

It must needs, If stout Suetonius win; for then his anger, Besides the Soldiers loss of due, and honor, Will break together on him.

Dru.

He's a brave fellow; And but a little hide his haughtiness, (Which is but sometimes neither, on some causes) He shews the worthiest Roman this day living. You may, good Curius, to the General Make all things seem the best.

Cur.

I shall endeavour: Pray for our fortunes, Gentlemen, If we fall, This one farewel serves for a Funeral. The gods make sharp our swords, and steel our hearts; We dare, alas, but cannot fight our parts.

Exeunt.

Scaena Secunda.

Enter Junius, Petillius and a Herald observing Junius.

Petill.

Let him go on: stay, now he talks.

Jun.

Why? Why should I love mine enemie? what is beauty? Of what strange violence, that like the plague, It works upon our spirits? blind they feign him, I am sure, I find it so.

Petill.

A Dog shall lead ye.

Jun.

His fond affections blinder.

Petill.

Hold ye there still.

Jun.

It takes away my sleep.

Petill.

Alas, poor chicken.

Jun.

My company, content; almost my fashion.

Petill.

Yes, and your weight too, if you follow it.

Jun.

'Tis sure the plague, for no man dare come near me Without an Antidote: 'tis far worse; Hell.

Petill.

Thou art damn'd without redemption then.

Jun.

The way to't

Strew'd with fair Western smiles, and April blushes, Led by the brightest constellations; eyes, And sweet proportions, envying heaven: but from thence No way to guide, no path, no wisdom bring us.

Petill.

Yes, a smart water, Junius.

Jun.

Do I fool? Know all this, and fool still? Do I know further, That when we have enjoy'd our ends, we lose 'em, And all our appetites are but as dreams We laugh at in our ages.

Petill.

Sweet Philosopher!

Jun.

Do I know on still, and yet know nothing? Mercy gods, Why am I thus ridiculous?

Petill.

Motley on thee, Thou art an arrant Ass.

Jun.

Can red and white, An Eye, a Nose, a Cheek,

Petill.

But one cheek, Junius? An half-fac'd Mistriss?

Jun.

With a little trim, That wanton fools call Fashion, thus abuse me? Take me beyond my reason? Why should not I Doat on my horse well trapt, my sword well hatch'd? They are as handsome things, to me more useful, And possible to rule too. Did I but love, Yet 'twere excusable, my youth would bear it; But to love there, and that no time can give me, Mine honor dare not ask, she has been ravish'd; My nature must not know; she hates our Nation. Thus to dispose my spirit!

Petill.

Stay a little, He will declaim again,

Jun.

I will not love; I am a man, have reason, And I will use it: I'll no more tormenting, Nor whining for a wench, there are a thousand,

Petill.

Hold thee there boy.

Jun.

A thousand will intreat me.

Petill.

Ten thousand, Junius,

Jun.

I am young and lusty, And to my fashion valiant; can please nightly.

Petill.

I'll swear thy back's probatum, for I have known thee Leap at sixteen like a strong Stallion.

Jun.

I will be man again.

Petill.

Now mark the working, The devil and the spirit tug for't: twenty pound Upon the devils head.

Jun.

I must be wretched.

Petill.

I knew I had won,

Jun.

Nor have I so much power To shun my fortune.

Petill.

I will hunt thy fortune With all the shapes imagination breeds,

Musick.

But I will fright thy devil: Stay, he sings now.

Song, by Junius, and Petillius, after him in mockage.

Jun.

Must I be thus abus'd?

Petill.

Yes marry must ye. Let's follow him close: oh, there he is, now read it.

Herald

reads.

It is the Generals command, that all sick, per∣sons old and unable, retire within the Trenches; he that fears his liberty, to leave the Field: Fools, Boys, and Lovers must not come near the Regiments, for fear of their infecti∣ons; especially those Cowards they call Lovers.

Jun.

Ha?

Petill.

Read on.

Herald

Herald.

If any common Soldier love an enemy, he's whip'd and made a slave: If any Captain, cast, with loss of honors, flung out o'th' Army, and made unable ever after to bear the name of a Soldier.

Jun.

The —consume ye all, Rogues.

Exit Jun.

Petill.

Let this work: H'as something now to chew upon: he's gone, Come, shake no more.

Her.

Well, Sir, you may command me, But not to do the like again for Europe; I would have given my life for a bent two-pence. If I e'r read to Lovers whilst I live again, Or come within their confines—

Petill.

There's your payment, And keep this private.

Her.

I am school'd for talking.

Exit Herald.

Enter Demetrius.

Petill.

How now, Demetrius, are we drawn?

Dem.

'Tis doing: Your Company stands fair; but pray ye, where's Junius? Half his command are wanting, with some sorty That Decius leads.

Petill.

Hunting for Victuals: Upon my life free-booting Rogues, their stomachs Are like a widows lust, ne'r satisfied.

Dem.

I wonder how they dare stir, knowing the enemy Master of all the Countrey.

Petill.

Resolute hungers Know neither fears nor faiths, they tread on ladders, Ropes, Gallows, and overdoe all dangers.

Dem.

They may be hang'd though.

Petill.

There's their joyful supper, And no doubt they are at it.

Dem.

But for heavens sake, How does young Junius?

Petill.

Drawing on, poor Gentleman.

Dem.

What, to his end?

Petill,

To th' end of all flesh: woman.

Dem.

This Love has made him a stout Soldier.

Petill.

O, a great one, Fit to command young Goslings: but what news?

Dem.

I think the messengers come back from Penyus By this time, let's go know.

Petill.

What will you say now If he deny to come, and take exceptions At some half syllable, or sound deliver'd With an ill accent, or some stile left out?

Dem.

I cannot think he dare.

Petill.

He dare speak treason, Dare say, what no man dares believe, dares do— But that's as•• one: I'll lay you my black armor To twenty crowns, he comes not.

Dem.

Done.

Petill.

You'll pay.

Dem.

I will.

Petill.

Then keep thine old use Penyus, Be stubborn and vain glorious, and I thank thee. Come let's go pray for six hours: most of us I fear will trouble heaven no more: two good blows Struck home at two Commanders of the Britains, And my part's done.

Dem.

I do not think of dying.

Petill.

'Tis possible we may live. But Demetrius, With what strange legs, and arms, and eyes, and noses, Let Carpenters and Copper-smiths consider. If I can keep my heart whole, and my wind-pipe, That I may drink yet like a Soldier—

Dem.

Come, let's have have better thoughts; mine's on your Armour.

Petill.

Mine's in your purse, Sir; Let's go try the wager.

Exeunt.

Scaena Tertia.

Enter Judas and his four companions (halters about their necks) Bonduca, her Daughters, Nennius following.

Bon.

Come, hang 'em presently.

Nen.

What made your Rogueships Harrying for victuals here? Are we your friends; Or do you come for Spies? tell me directly, Would you not willingly be hang'd now? do not ye long for'••

Jud.

What say ye? shall we hang in this vain? Hang we must And 'tis as good to dispatch it merrily, As pull an arse like dogs to't.

1 Sold.

Any way, So it be handsome.

3 Sold.

I had as lief 'twere toothsome too: but all agree, And I'll not out Boys.

4 Sold.

Let's hang pleasantly.

Jud.

Then pleasantly be it: Captain, the truth is, We had as lief hang with meat in our mouths, As ask your pardon empty.

Bon.

These are brave hungers. What say you to a leg of Beef now, sirrah?

Jud.

Bring me acquainted with it, and I'll tell ye.

Bon.

Torment 'em wenches: I must back; then hang 'em.

Jud.

We humbly thank your Grace.

1 Daugh.

The Rogues laugh at us.

2 Daugh.

Sirrah, What think you of a wench now?

Jud.

A wench, Lady? I do beseech your Ladyship, retire. I'll tell ye presently, ye see the time's short; One crash; even to the setling of my conscience.

Nen.

Why, is't no more but up, boys?

Jud.

Yes, ride too Captain; Will you but see my seat?

1 Daugh.

Ye shall be set, Sir, Upon a jade shall shake ye.

Jud.

Sheets, good Madam, Will do it ten times better.

1 Daugh.

Whips, good Soldier. Which ye shall taste before ye hang, to mortifie ye; 'Tis pity ye should die thus desperate.

2 Daugh.

These are the merry Romans the brave mad-caps. 'Tis ten to one we'll cool your resolutions. Bring out the whips.

Jud.

Would your good Ladyships Would exercise 'em too.

4 Sold.

Surely Ladies, We'll shew you a strange patience.

Nen.

Hang 'em Rascals, They'll talk thus on the wheel.

Enter Caratach.

Car.

Now, what's the matter? What are these fellows? what's the crime committed, That they wear necklaces?

Nen.

They are Roman Rogues, Taken a Forraging.

Car.

Is that all, Nennius?

Jud.

Would I were fairly hang'd; this is the devil, The kill-cow, Caratach,

Car.

And you would hang 'em.

Nen.

Are they not enemies?

1 Sol.

My breech makes buttons.

1 Daugh.

Are they not our tormentors?

Car.

Tormentors? Flea-traps. Pluck off your halters, fellows.

Nen.

Take heed, Caratach, Taint not your wisdom.

Car.

Wisdom, Nennius? Why, who shall fight against us, make our honors, And give a glorious day into our hands, If we dispatch our foes thus? what's their offence? Stealing a loaf or two to keep out hunger, A piece of greazie bacon, or a pudding? Do these deserve the gallows, they are hungry, Poor hungry knaves, no meat at home left, starv'd: Art thou not hungry?

Jud.

Monstrous hungry.

Car.

He looks like hungers self: get 'emsome victuals, And Wine to cheer their hearts, quick: Hang up poor pilchers?

2 Sold.

This is the bravest Captain—

Nen.

Caratach, I'll leave you to your Will.

Car.

I'll answer all, Sir.

2 Daugh.

Let's up and view his entertainment of e'm. I am glad they are shifted any way, their tongues else Would still have murdred us.

1 Daugh.

Let's up and see it.

Exeunt.

Enter Hengo.

Car.

Sit down poor knaves: why where's this Wine and Victuals? Who waits there?

Swet.

within.

Sir, 'tis coming.

Hen.

Who are these Uncle?

Car.

They are Remans, boy.

Hen.

Are these they That vex mine Aunt so? can these fight? they look Like empty scabbards, all, no mettle in 'em, Like men of clouts, set to keep crows from orchards; Why, I dare fight with these.

Car.

That's my good chicken. And how do ye? How do you feel your stomachs?

Jud.

Wondrous apt, Sir, As shall appear when time calls.

Car.

That's well, down with't, A little grace will serve your turns: eat softly, You'll choak ye knaves else: give 'em Wine.

Jud.

Not yet, Sir, We're even a little busie.

Hen.

Can that fellow Do any thing but eat? thou fellow.

Jud.

Away boy, Away, this is no boys play.

Hen.

By—, Uncle, If his valour lie in's teeth, he's the most valiant.

Car.

I am glad to hear ye talk, Sir,

Hen.

Good Uncle tell me, What's the price of a couple of cramm'd Romans

Car.

Some twenty Britains boy; these are good Soldiers,

Hen.

Do not the cowards eat hard too?

Car.

No more, boy. Come, I'll sit with you too; sit down by me, boy.

Jud.

Pray bring your dish then.

Car.

Hearty knaves: More meat there.

1 Sol.

That's a good hearing.

Car.

Stay now and pledge me.

Jud.

This little piece, Sir.

Car.

By — square eaters, More meat I say: upon my conscience The poor Rogues have not eat this month: how terribly They charge upon their victuals: dare ye fight thus?

Jud.

Believe it, Sir, like devils.

Car.

Well said famine, Here's to thy General.

Jud.

Most excellent Captain, I will now pledg thee.

Car.

And to morrow night say to him, His Head is mine.

Jud.

I can assure ye Captain, He will not give it for this washing.

Car.

Well said.

Daughters above.

1 Daugh.

Here's a strange entertainment: how the thieves drink.

2 Daugh.

Danger is dry, they look'd for colder liquor.

Car.

Fill 'em more wine, give 'em full bowls; which of you all now. In recompence of this good, dare but give me A sound knock in the battel?

Jud.

Delicate Captain, To do thee a sufficient recompence, I'll knock thy brains out.

Car.

Do it.

Hen.

Thou dar'st as well be damn'd: thou knock his brains out. Thou skin of man? Uncle, I will not hear this.

Jud.

Tie up your whelp.

Hen.

Thou kill me Uncle?

Would I had but a sword for thy sake, thou dry'd dog.

Car.

What a mettle This little vermin carries.

Heng.

Kill mine Uncle?

Car.

He shall not, child.

Hen.

He cannot: he's a Rogue, An only eating Rogue: Kill my sweet Uncle? Oh that I were a man.

Jud.

By this Wine, Which I will drink to Captain Junius, Who loves the Queens most excellent Majesties little daughter Most sweetly, and most fearfully I will do it,

Heng.

Uncle, I'll kill him with a great pin.

Car.

No more, Boy. I'll pledge thy Captain: To ye all good fellows.

2 Daugh.

In love with me? that love shall cost your lives all: Come Sister, and advise me; I have here A way to make an easie conquest of'em, If fortune favour me.

Car,

Let's see ye sweat To morrow, blood and spirit, Boys, this Wine Turn'd to stern valour.

1 Sold.

Hark ye Judas, If he should hang us after all this.

Jud.

Let him: I'll hang like a Gentleman and a Roman:

Car.

Take away there, They have enough.

Jud.

Captain, we thank you heartily For your good cheer, and if we meet to morrow, One of us pays for't.

Car.

Get 'em guides, their Wine Has over-master'd 'em.

Enter second Daughter, and a Servant.

2 Daugh.

That hungry fellow With the red beard there, give it him, and this, To see it well delivered.

Car.

Farewel knaves; Speak nobly of us, keep your words to morrow.

Enter a Guide.

And do something worthy your meat. Go, guide 'em, And see 'em fairly onward.

Jud.

Meaning me, Sir?

Serv.

The same. The youngest daughter to the Queen intreats ye To give this privately to Captain Junius, This for your pains

Jud.

I rest her humble servant, Commend me to thy Lady. Keep your Files, boys.

Serv.

I must instruct ye farther.

Jud.

Keep your Files there. Order, sweet friends: faces about now.

Guide.

Here Sir, Here lies your way.

Jud.

'Bless the Founders, I say Fairly, good soldiers, fairly march now: close, boys.

Exeunt.

Scaena Quarta.

Enter Swetonius, Petillius, Demetris, Decius, Macer.

Swet.

Bid me be wise, and keep me where I am, And so be safe: not come, because commanded; Was it not thus?

Ma.

It was, Sir.

Pet.

What now think ye?

Swet.

Must come, so hainous to him, so distasteful?

Pet.

Give me my money.

Dem.

I confess 'tis due, Sir, And presently I'll pay it.

Swet.

His obedience. So blind at his years and experience. It cannot find where to be tendred?

Ma.

Sir, The Regiment was willing, and advanc'd too, The Captains at all points steel'd up: their preparations Full of resolve, and confidence; Youth and fire, Like the fair breaking of a glorious day, Guilded their Phalanx: when the angry Penyus Stept like a stormy cloud 'twixt them and hopes.

Swet.

And stopt their resolutions?

Ma.

True: his reason To them was ods, and ods so infinite, Discretion durst not look upon.

Swet.

Well Penyus, I cannot think thee coward yet; and treacherous I dare not think thou hast lopt a limb off from me, And let it be thy glory, thou wast stubborn, Thy wisdom, that thou leftst thy General naked: Yet e'r the Sun set, I shall make thee see, All valour dwels not in thee; all command In one experience. Thou wilt too late repent this, And wist, I must come up, had been thy blessing.

Petill.

Let's force him.

Swet.

No, by no means; he's a torrent We cannot easily stemme.

Petill.

I think, a Traitor.

Swet.

No ill words: let his own shame first revile him. That Wine I have, see it (Demetrius) Distributed amongst the soldiers, To make 'em high and lusty: when that's done, Petillius, give the word through, that the Eagles May presently advance: no man discover, Upon his life, the enemies full strength, But make it of no value: Decius, Are your starv'd people yet come home?

Dec.

I hope so.

Swet.

Keep 'em in more obedience: This is no time To chide, I could be angry else, and say more to ye: But come, let's o••der all: whose sword is sharpest, And valour equal to his sword this day, Shall be my Saint.

Petill.

We shall be holy all then.

Exeunt.

Enter Judas and his company,

Jud.

Captain, Captain, I have brought 'em off again; The drunkennest slaves.

Dec.

—Confound your Rogueships; I'll call the General, and have ye hang'd all.

Jud.

Pray who will you command then:

Dec.

For you, sirrah, That are the ring-leader to these devises, Whose maw is never cramm'd, I'll have an engine.

Jud.

A wench, sweet Captain.

Dec.

Sweet Judas, even the Forks. Where ye shall have two Lictors with two whips Hammer your hide.

Jud.

Captain, good words, fair words, Sweet words, good Captain; if you like not us, Farewell, we have imployment.

Dec.

Where hast thou been;

Jud.

There where you dare not be with all your valour.

Dec.

Where's that?

Jud.

With the best good fellow living.

1 Sold.

The king of all good fellows.

Dec.

Who's that:

Jud.

Caratach. Shake now, and say, We have done something worthy, Mark me; with Caratach: By this—Catarach: Do you as much now and you dare: sweet Caratach. Ye talk of a good fellow, of true drinking;

Well, go thy waies old Caratach: besides the drink Captain, The bravest running Banquet of black puddings, Pieces of glorious beef.

Dec.

How scap'd ye hanging?

Jud.

Hanging's a dog's death, we are Gentlemen, And I say still, old Caratach.

Dec.

Belike then, You are turn'd Rebels all.

Jud.

We are Roman boys all, And boys of mettle: I must do that Captain, This day, this very day.

Dec.

Away, ye Rascal.

Jud.

Fair words, I say again.

Dec.

What must you do, Sir?

Jud.

I must do that my heart-strings yern to do: But my word's past.

Dec.

What is it?

Jud.

Why, kill Caratach. That's all he ask'd us for our entertainment.

Dec.

More than you'll pay.

Jud.

Would I had sold my self Unto the skin I had not promis'd it: For such another Caratach—

Dec.

Come Fool, Have ye done your Countrey service?

Jud.

I have brought that To Captain Junius.

Dec.

How?

Jud.

I think will do all: I cannot tell, I think so.

Dec.

How? to Junius? I'll more enquire of this: You'll fight now?

Jud.

Promise: Take heed of promise, Captain.

Dec.

Away, and rank then.

Jud.

But harke ye Captain, there is Wine distributing, I would fain know what share I have.

Dec.

Be gone, Ye have too much,

Jud.

Captain, no Wine, no fighting. There's one call'd Caratach that has Wine.

Dec.

Well, Sir, If you'll be rul'd now, and do well.

Jud.

Do excellent.

Dec.

Ye shall have Wine, or any thing: go file; I'll see ye have your share: drag out your dormise, And stow 'em somewhere, where they may sleep handsomly, They'l hear a hunt's up shortly.

Jud.

Now I love thee: But no more Forks nor Whips.

Dec.

Deserve 'em not then: Up with your men, I'll meet ye presently; And get 'em sober quickly.

Jud.

Arm, arm, Bullies; All's right again and straight; and which is more, More Wine, more Wine: Awake ye men of Memphis, Be sober and discreet, we have much to do boys.

Exeunt.

Actus Tertius.

Scaena Prima.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess.

Prepare there for the sacrifice, the Queen comes.

Musick.

Enter in solemnity the Druids singing, the second Daughter strewing Flowers: then Bonduca, Nennius, and others.

Bond.

Ye powerful gods of Britain, hear our prayers; Hear us you great Revengers, and this day Take pity from our swords, doubt from our valours, Double the sad remembrance of our wrongs In every brest; the vengeance due to those Make infinite and endless: on our pikes This day pale terror sit, horrors and ruines Upon our executions; claps of thunder Hang on our armed carts. and 'sore our Troops Despair and death; shame beyond these attend 'em. Rise from the dust, ye relicks of the dead, Whose noble deeds our holy Druids sing, Oh rise, ye valiant bones, let not base earth Oppress your honors, whilst the pride of Rome Treads on your Stocks, and wipes out all your stories.

Nen.

Thou great Tiranes, whom our sacred Priests, Armed with dreadful thunder, plac'd on high Above the rest of the immortal gods, Send thy consuming fires, and deadly bolts, And shoot 'em home, stick in each Roman heart A fear fit for confusion; blast their spirits, Dwell in 'em to destruction; thorow their Phalanx Strike, as thou sttrik'st a proud tree; shake their Bodies, Make their strengths totter, and their topless fortunes Unroot and reel to ruine.

1 Daugh.

O thou god, Thou feared god, if ever to thy justice Insulting wrongs, and ravishments of Women, Women deriv'd from thee, their shames, the sufferings Of those that daily fill'd thy Sacrifice With Virgin incense, have access, now hear me, Now snatch thy thunder up, now on these Romans, Despisers of thy power, of us defacers, Revenge thy self, take to thy killing anger, To make thy great work full, thy justice spoken, An utter rooting from this blessed Isle Of what Rome is or has been.

Bon.

Give more incense, The gods are deaf and drowsie; no happy flame Rises to raise our thoughts: Pour on.

2 Daugh.

See heaven. And all you pow'rs that guide us, see, and shame We kneel so long for pity over your Altars; Since 'tis no light oblation that you look for, No incense offering, will I hang mine eyes; And as I wear these stones with hourly weeping, So will I melt your pow'rs into compassion. This tear for Prosutagus my brave Father, Ye gods, now think on Rome; this for my Mother, And all her miseries; yet see, and save us; But now ye must be open-ey'd. See; heaven, Oh see thy show'rs stoln from thee; our dishonours,

A smoak from the Altar.

Oh Sister, our dishonors: can ye be gods, And these sins smother'd?

Bon.

The sire takes.

Car.

It does so, But no flame rises. Cease your fearful prayers,

Your whinings, and your tame petitions; The gods love courage arm'd with confidence, And prayers fit to pull them down: weak tears And troubled hearts, the dull twins of cold spirits, They sit and smile at. Hear how I salute 'em: Divine Andate, thou who hold'st the reins Of furious Battels, and disordred War, And proudly roll'st thy swarty chariot wheels Over the heaps of wounds and carcasses, Sailing through seas of blood; thou sure-steel'd sternness, Give us this day good hearts, good enemies, Good blowes o'both sides, wounds that fear or flight Can claim no share in; steel us both with angers, And warlike executions fit thy viewing; Let Rome put on her best strength, and thy Britain, Thy little Britain, but as great in fortune, Meet her as strong as she, as proud, as daring; And then look on, thou red ey'd god: who does best, Reward with honor; who despair makes flie, Unarm for ever, and brand with infamy: Grant this, divine Andate, 'tis but justice; And my first blow thus on thy holy Altar

A flame arises.

I sacrifice unto thee.

Bon.

It flames out

Musick.

Car.

Now sing ye Druides.

Song.

Bon.

'Tis out again.

Car.

H'as given us leave to fight yet; we ask no more, The rest hangs in our resolutions: Tempt her no more.

Bon.

I would know farther Cosen.

Car.

Her hidden meaning dwels in our endeavors; Our valors are our best gods. Cheer the Soldier, And let him eat.

Mes.

He's at it, Sir.

Car.

Away then; When he has done, let's march. Come, fear not Lady, This day the Roman gains no more ground here, But what his body lies in.

Bond.

Now I am confident.

Exeunt.

Recorders.

Scaena Secunda.

Enter Junius, Curius, Deciu••.

Dec.

We dare not hazard it: beside our lives, It forfeits all our understandings.

Jun.

Gentlemen, Can ye forsake me in so just a service, A service for the Common-wealth, for honor? Read but the Letter; you may love too.

Dec.

Read it: If there be any safety in the circumstance, Or likelihood 'tis love, we will not fail ye. Read it good Curius.

Cur.

Willingly.

Jun.

Now mark it.

Cur.

reads.

Health to thy heart, my honoured Junius, And all thy love requited: I am thine, Thine everlastingly, thy love has won me, And let it breed no doubt; our new acquaintance Compels this, 'tis the gods decree to bless us. The times are dangerous to meet; yet fail not, By all the love thou bear'st me I conjure thee, Without distrust of danger, to come to me, For I have purpos'd a delivery Both of my self and fortune this blest day Into thy hands, if thou thinkst good: to shew thee How infinite my Love is, even my Mother Shall be thy prisoner, the day yours without hazard; For I beheld your danger like a Lover, A just affecter of thy faith: Thy goodness, I know, will use us nobly, and our Marriage If not redeem, yet lessen Romes Ambition. I 'm weary of these miseries: Use my Mother, (if you intend to take her) with all honour, And let this disobedience to my parents Be laid on love, not me. Bring with thee, Junius, Spirits resolv'd to fetch me off, the noblest, Forty will serve the turn; just at the joyning Of both the battels, we will be weakly guarded; And for a guide, within this hour shall reach thee A faithful friend of mine: the gods, my Junius, Keep thee, and me to serve thee: young Bon••ica.

Cur.

This letter carries much belief, and most objections Answer'd, we must have doubted.

Dec.

Is that fellow Come to ye for a guide yet?

Jun

Yes.

Dec.

And examin'd?

Jun.

Far more then that; he has felt tortures, yet He vows he knows no more than this truth.

Dec.

Strange.

Cur.

If she mean what she writes, as't may be probable, 'Twill be the happiest vantage we can lean to.

Jun.

I'll pawn my soul she means truth.

Dec.

Think an hour more, Then if your confidence grow stronger on ye, We'll set in with ye.

Jun.

Nobly done; I thank ye; Ye know the time.

Cur.

We will be either ready To give ye present counsell, or joyn with ye.

Enter Swetonius, Petillius, and Demetrius, Macer.

Jun.

No more as ye are Gentlemen. The general.

Swet.

Draw out apace, the enemy waits for us; Are ye all ready?

Jun.

All our Troops attend, Sir.

Swet.

I am glad to hear you say so, Junius. I hope ye are dispossest.

Jun.

I hope so too, Sir,

Swet.

Continue so. And Gentlemen, to you now; To bid you fight is needless, ye are Romans, The name will fight it self; To tell ye who You go to fight against, his power, and nature, But loss of time: yet know it, know it poor, And oft have made it so. To tell ye farther, His Body shows more dreadful than it has done, To him that fears, less possible to deal with, Is but to stick more honor on your actions, Load ye with virtuous names, and to your memories Tye never dying time, and fortune constant. Go on in full assurance, draw your swords As daring and as confident as justice; The gods of Rome fight for ye; loud Fame calls ye, Pitch'd on the topless Apenine, and blows To all the under world: all Nations, The seas, and unfrequented deserts, where the snow dwels, Wakens the ruin'd monuments, and there Where nothing but eternal death and sleep is, Informs again the dead bones With your virtues. Go on, I say, valiant and wise, rule heaven, And all the great aspects attend 'em. Do but blow Upon this enemy, who, but that we want foes, Cannot deserve that name; and like a myst, A lazie fog, before your burning valors You'll find him fly to nothing, This is all, We have swords, and are the sons of antient Romans, Heirs to their endless valors, fight and conquer.

De.

Dem. 'Tis done.

Petill.

That man that loves not this day, And hugs not in his arms the noble danger, May he dye fameless and forgot.

Swet.

Sufficient, Up to your Troops, and let your drums beat thunder,

March close, and sudden like a tempest: all executions

March.

Done without sparkling of the Body: keep your phalanx Sure lin'd, and piec'd together; your pikes forward, And so march like a moving Fort: ere this day run, We shall have ground to add to Rome, well won.

Exeunt.

Scaena Tertia.

Enter Caratach and Nennius.

Nen.

The Roman is advanc'd from yound' hills brow, We may behold him, Caratach.

A March.

Drums within at one place afar off.

Car.

Let's thither, I see the dust flie. Now I see the body, Observe 'em, Nennuis, by—a handsome Body, And of a few, strongly and wisely joynted: Swetonius is a Souldier.

Nen.

As I take it, That's he that gallops by the Regiments, Viewing their preparations.

Car.

Very likely, He shews no less than General: see how bravely The Body moves, and in the head how proudly The Captains stick like plumes: he comes apace on; Good Nennius go, and bid my stout Lieutenant Bring on the first square Body to oppose 'em, And as he charges, open to inclose 'em: The Queen move next with hers, and wheel about, To gain their backs, in which I'll lead the Vantguard. We shall have bloody crowns this day, I see by't; Hast thee good Nennius, I'll follow instantly.

Exit Nennius.

How close they march, as if they grew together?

March.

No place but lin'd alike: sure from oppression; They will not change this figure: we must charge 'em, And charge 'em home at both ends, Van and Rere,

Drums in another place afar off.

They never totter else. I hear our Musick, And must attend it: Hold good sword, but this day, And bite hard where I hound thee, and hereafter I'll make a relique of thee, for young Souldiers To come like Pilgrimes to, and kiss for Conquests.

Exit.

Scaena quarta.

Enter Junius, Curius, and Decius.

Jun.

Now is the time, the fellow stays.

Dec.

What think ye?

Cur.

I think 'tis true.

Jun.

Alass, if 'twere a question, If any doubt or hazzard fell into't, Do ye think mine own discretion so self-blind, My care of you so naked, to run headlong?

Dec.

Let's take Petillius with us.

Jun.

By no means: He's never wise but to himself, nor courteous, But where the end' his own: we are strong enough, If not to many. Behind yonder hill The follow tells me she attends, weak guarded, Her Mother and her Sister.

Car.

I would venture.

Jun.

We shall not strike five blows for't, weigh the good, The general good may come.

Dec.

Away, I'll with ye, But with what doubt?

Jun.

Fear not, my soul for all.

Exeunt.

Alarms, Drums and Trumpets in several places afar off, as at a main Battell.

Scaena Quinta.

Enter Drusus and Penyus above.

Dru.

Here ye may see 'em all, Sir: from this hill The Country shews off levell.

Pen.

Gods defend me, What multitudes they are, what infinites? The Roman power shews like a little Star Hedg'd with a double hollo. Now the knell rings,

Loud shouts.

Heark how they shout to th'battel; how the air Totters and reels, and rends apieces, Drusus, With the huge vollied clamours.

Dru.

Now they charge. Oh gods, of all sides, fearfully.

Pen.

Little Rome, Stand but this growing Hydra one short hour, And thou hast out-done Hercules.

Dru.

The dust hides 'em, We cannot see what follows.

Pen.

They are gone, Gone, swallow'd Drusus, this eternal Sun Shall never see 'em march more.

Dru.

O turn this way, And see a modell of the field, some forty, Against four hundred.

Pen.

Well fought, bravely follow'd; O nobly charg'd again, charg'd home too: Drusus, They seem to carry it: now they charge all,

Loud.

Close, close, I say; they follow it: ye gods, Can there be more in men? more daring spirits? Still they make good their fortunes. Now they are gone too, For ever gone: see Drusus at their backs A fearful Ambush rises. Farewell valours, Excellent valours: O Rome, where's thy wisdome?

Dru.

They are gone indeed, Sir.

Pen.

Look out toward the Army, I am heavy with these slaughters.

Dru.

'Tis the same still, Covered with dust and fury.

Enter the two Daughters, with Junius, Curius, Decius, and Souldiers.

2. Daugh.

Bring 'em in, Tie 'em, and then unarm 'em.

1. Daugh.

Valiant Romans, Ye are welcome to your Loves.

2. Daugh.

Your death, fools.

Dec.

We deserve 'em, And women do your worst.

1. Daugh.

Ye need not beg it.

2. Daugh.

Which is kind Junius?

Serv.

This.

2. Daugh.

Are you my sweet heart? It looks ill on't: how long is't, pretty soul, Since you and I first lov'd? Had we not reason To doat extreamly upon one another? How does my Love? this is not he: my chicken Could prate finely, sing a love-song.

Jun.

Monster.

2. Daugh.

Oh, now it courts.

Jun.

Arm'd with more malice Then he that got thee has the divell.

2. Daugh.

Good. Proceed, sweet chick.

Jun.

I hate thee, that's my last.

2. Daug.

Nay, and ye love me, forward: No? Come sister, Let's prick our answers on our arrows points, And make 'em laugh a little. Ye damn'd Leachers, Ye proud improvident fools, have we now caught ye? Are ye i'th noose? Since ye are such loving creatures, We'ell be your Cupids: Do ye see these arrows?

We'll send them to your wanton livers, goats.

1. Dau.

O how I'll trample on your hearts, ye villains, Ambitious salt-itch slaves: Romes master sins, The mountain Rams topt your hot mothers.

2. Daugh.

Dogs, To whose brave founders a salt whore gave suck; Theeves, honors hangmen, do ye grin? perdition Take me for ever, if in my self anger,

Enter Caratach.

I do not out-do all example.

Car.

Where, Where are these Ladies? ye keep noble quarter, Your Mother thinks ye dead or taken; upon which, She will not move her Battel. Sure these faces I have beheld and known, they are Roman Leaders, How came they here?

2. Daugh.

A trick Sir, that we us'd, A certain policy conducted 'em Unto our snare: we have done ye no small service; These us'd as we intend, we are for th'battel,

Car.

As you intend? taken by treachery?

1. Daugh.

Is't not allow'd?

Car.

Those that should gild our Conquest, Make up a Battel worthy of our winning, Catch'd up by craft?

2. Daugh.

By any means that's lawful.

Car.

A womans wisdom in our triumphs? out, Out ye sluts, ye follies; from our swords Filth our revenges basely? arm again, Gentlemen: Soldiers, I charge ye help 'em.

2. Daugh.

By—Uncle, We will have vengeance for our rapes.

Car

By — You should have kept your legs close then: dispatch there.

1. Daug.

I will not off thus.

Car.

He that stirs to execute, Or she, though it be your selves, by him that got me, Shall quickly feel mine anger: one great day given us, Not to be snatch'd out of our hands but basely; And we must shame the gods from whence we have it, With setting snares for Soldiers? I'll run away first, Be hooted at, and children call me coward, Before I set up scales for Victories: Give 'em their swords.

2. Daugh.

O gods.

Car.

Bear off the women Unto their Mother.

2. Dau.

One shot, gentle Uncle.

Car.

One cut her fiddle-string: Bear 'em off I say.

1. Dau.

The— take this fortune.

Car.

Learn to spin, And curse your knotted hemp: go Gentlemen,

Exeunt Daughters.

Safely go off, up to your Troops: be wiser, There thank me like tall Soldiers: I shall seek ye.

Exit Caratach.

Cur.

A noble worth.

Dec.

Well Junius.

Jun.

Pray ye no more.

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 clear 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 Battel 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 fail; 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 ways to let out souls. 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; honor till now nere show'd Her golden fate i'th' field. Like Lions, Gentlemen, Y'have held your heads up this day: Where's young Junius, Curius and Decius?

Petill.

Gone to heaven, I think, Sir.

Sw.

Their worths go with 'em: breathe a while: How do ye?

Pet.

Well; some few scurvy wounds, my heart's whole yet.

Dem.

Would they would give us more ground.

Swet.

Give? we'll have it.

Petill.

Have it? and hold it too, despight the devill.

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 General?

Swet.

Oh, they are living yet. Come my brave soldiers, Come, let me powr Romes blessing on ye; Live, Live, and lead Armies all: ye bleed hard.

Jun.

Best: We shall appear the sterner to the foe.

Dec.

More wounds, more honor.

Petill.

Lose no time.

Swet.

Away then, And stand this shock, ye have stood the world.

Petill.

Wee'll grow to't. Is not this better than 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 extreamly, the mad fool.

Bon.

Why Cosin?

Car.

The woman fool. Why did you give the word Unto the carts to charge down, and our people In gross before the Enemy? 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.

Bond.

I'll help all.

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.

Victoria, Victoria.

Pen.

How's that, Drusus?

Dru.

They win, they win, they win; oh look, look, look, Sir, For heavens sake look, the Britains fly, the Britains fly. Victoria.

Enter Swetonius, Soldiers, and Captains.

Swet.

Soft, soft, pursue it soft; excellent Soldiers, Close, my brave fellows, honorable Romans: Oh cool thy mettle Junius, they are ours, The world cannot redeem 'em: stern Petillius, Govern the conquest nobly: soft, good Soldiers.

Exeunt.

Enter Bonduca, Daughters, and Britains.

Bond.

Shame, whither flie ye, ye unlucky Britains? Will ye creep into your mothers wombs again? Back cowards. Hares, fearful Hares, Doves in your angers; leave me? Leave your Queen desolate? her hapless children.

Enter Caratach and Hengo.

To Roman rape again and fury?

Car.

Flye, ye buzzards, Ye have wings enough, ye fear: get thee gone, woman,

Loud shout 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, the 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 Soldier: strike home, home, have at ye.

Pen.

His blows fall like huge sledges on an anvil.

Dec.

I am weary.

Pet.

So am I.

Car.

Send more swords to me.

Jun.

Let's sit and rest.

Sit down.

Dru.

What think ye now?

Pen.

O Drusus, I have lost mine honor, 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 wisdom rul'd ye; pray ye go home, Your day is yet to come, when this great fortune Shall be but soil unto it.

Retreat.

Pen.

Fool, fool, Coward.

Exit Penyus and Drusus.

Enter Swetonius, Demetrius, Soldiers, Drum and Colours.

Swet.

Draw in, draw in: well have you sought, and worthy Romes noble recompence; look to your wounds, The ground is cold and hurtful: the proud Queen Has got a Fort, and there she and her Daughters Defie us once again. To morrow morning Wee'll seek her out, and make her know, our Fortunes Stop at no stubborn walls: Come, sons of honor, True virtues heirs; thus hatch'd with Britain blood, Let's march to rest, and set in gules like Suns. Beat a soft march, and each one ease his neighbours.

Exeunt.

Actus Quartus.

Scaena Prima.

Enter Petillius, Junius, Decius, Demetrius singing.

Petill.

Smooth was his cheek,

Dec.

And his chin it was sleek,

Jun,

With whoop, he has done wooing.

Dem.

Junius was this Captains name, A lad for a lasses viewing,

Pet.

Full black his eye, and plump his thigh,

Dec.

Made up for loves pursuing:

Dem.

Smooth was his cheeck.

Petill.

And his chin it was sleek.

Jun.

With whoop, he has done wooing.

Petill.

O my vex'd thief, art thou come home again? Are thy brains perfect?

Jun.

Sound as bels.

Petill.

Thy back-worm Quiet, and cast his sting, boy?

Jun.

Dead, Petillius, Dead to all folly, and now my anger only.

Pet.

Why, that's well said: hang Cupid and his qu••ve••. A drunken brawling Boy; thy honour'd saint Be thy ten shillings, Junius, there's the money, And there's the ware; square dealing: this but sweats thee Like a Mesh nag, and makes thee look pin buttock'd. The other runs thee whining up and down Like a pig in a storm, fills thy brains full of madness, And shews thee like a long Lent, thy brave body Turn'd to a tail of green-fish without butter.

Dec.

When thou lov'st next, love a good cup of W••. A Mistress for a King, she leaps to kiss thee, Her red and white's her own; she makes good blood, Takes none away; what she heats sleep can help, Without a groping Surgeon.

Jun.

I am counsell'd, And henceforth, when I doat again,—

Dem.

Take heed, Ye had almost paid for't.

Petill.

Love no more great Ladies, Thou canst not step amiss then; there's no delight in 'em. All's in the whistling of their snacht up silks; They're only made for handsome view, not handling; Their bodies of so weak and wash a temper, A rough pac'd bed will shake 'em all to pieces; A tough hen pulls their teeth out, tyres their souls; Plenae rimarum sunt, they are full of rynnet, And take the skin off where they are tasted; shun 'em, They live in cullisses like rotten cocks Stew'd to a tenderness, that holds no tack: Give me a thing I may crush.

Jun.

Thou speak'st truly: The War•• shall be my Mistriss now.

Petil.

Well chosen, For she's a bownsing lass, she'll kiss thee at night, boy, And break thy pate i'th' morning.

Jun.

Yesterday I found those favors infinite.

Dem.

Wench good enough, But that she talks too loud.

Pet.

She talks to th'purpose, Which never Woman did yet: she'll hold grapling, And he that layes on best, is her best servant: All other loves are meer catching of dotrels, Stretching of legs out only, and trim laziness.

Enter

Here comes the General.

Swet. Curius, & Macer.

Swet.

I am glad ye have found ye: Are those come in yet that pursu'd bold Caratach?

Pet.

Not yet Sir, for I think they mean to lodge him. Take him I know they dare not, 'twill be dangerous.

Swet.

Then haste Petillius, haste to Penyus, I fear the strong conceit of what disgrace Has pull'd upon himself, will be his ruine: I fear his soldiers fury too; haste presently, I would not lose him for all Britain. Give him,

Petillius,

Petil.

That that shall, choak him.

Swet.

All the noble counsell, His fault forgiven too, his place, his honor,

Petill.

For me, I think, as handsome.

Swet.

All the comfort.

And tell the Souldier, 'twas on our command He drew not to the Battell.

Petill.

I conceive Sir, And will do that shall cure all.

Swet.

Bring him with ye Before the Queens Fort, and his Forces with him, There you shall find us following of our Conquest: Make haste.

Petil.

The best I may.

Exit.

Swet.

And noble Gentlemen, Up to your Companies: we'll presently Upon the Queens pursuit: there's nothing done Till she be seiz'd; without her nothing won.

Exeunt.

Short flourish.

Scaena Secunda.

Enter Caratach and Hengo.

Car.

How does my Boy?

Hen.

I would do well, my heart's well; I do not fear.

Car.

My good Boy.

Hen.

I know, Uncle, We must all dye; my little brother dy'd, I saw him dye, and he dy'd smiling: sure, There's no great pain in't Uncle. But pray tell me, Wither must we go when we are dead?

Car.

Strange questions! Why, to the blessed'st place Boy: ever sweetness And happiness dwells there.

Hen.

Will you come to me?

Car.

Yes, my sweet boy.

Hen.

Mine Aunt too, and my Cosins?

Car.

All, my good child.

Hen.

No Romans, Uncle?

Car.

No Boy.

Heng.

I should be loath to meet them there.

Car.

No ill men, That live by violence, and strong oppression, Come thither: 'tis for those the gods love, good men.

Heng.

Why, then I care not when I go; for surely I am perswaded they love me: I never blasphem'd 'em, Uncle, nor transgrest my parents; I always said my Prayers.

Car.

Thou shalt go then, Indeed thou shalt.

Heng.

When they please.

Car.

That's my good boy. Art thou not weary, Hengo?

Heng.

Weary, Uncle? I have heard you say you have march'd all day in Armour.

Car.

I have, boy.

Heng.

Am not I your Kinsman?

Car.

Yes.

Hen.

And am not I as fully allyed unto you In those brave things, as blood?

Car.

Thou art too tender.

Heng.

To go upon my legs? they were made to bear me. I can play twenty mile a day, I see no reason But to preserve my Countrey and my self, I should march forty.

Car.

What, wouldst thou be Living to wear a mans strength?

Heng.

Why a Caratach, A Roman-hater, a scourge sent from Heaven

Drum

To whip these proud theeves from our Kingdom. Heark, Heark, Uncle, heark, I hear a Drum.

Enter Judas and his people to the door.

Jud.

Beat softly, Softly, I say; they are here: who dare charge?

1. gold.

He. That dares be knockt o'th' head: I'll not come near him.

Jud.

Retire again, and watch then. How he stares! H'as eyes would kill a dragon: mark the boy well; If we could take or kill him. A —on ye, How fierce ye look? see how he broods the boy; The devil dwels in's scabbard. Back, I say, Apace, apace, h'as found us.

They retire.

Car.

Do ye hunt us?

Heng.

Uncle, good Uncle see, the thin starv'd Rascal, The eating Roman, see where he thrids the thickets: Kill him, dear Uncle, kill him; one good blow To knock his brains into his breech; strike's head off, That I may piss in's face.

Car.

Do ye make us Foxes? Here, hold my charging staff, and keep the place boy. I'am at bay, and like a bull I'll bear me. Stand, stand, ye Rogues, ye Squirrels.

Exit.

Heng.

Now he pays 'em: O that I had a mans strength.

Enter Judas, &c.

Jud.

Here's the boy; Mine own, I thank my Fortune.

Heng.

Uncle, uncle; Famine is faln upon me, uncle.

Jud.

Come, Sir, Yield willingly, your Uncle's out of hearing, I'll ti••le your young ta••l else.

Heng.

I defie thee, Thou mock-made man of mat: charge home, si••ha: Hang thee, base slave, thou shak'st.

Jud,

Upon my conscience The boy will beat me: how it looks, how bravely, How confident the worm is: a scabb'd boy To handle me thus? yield or I cut thy head off.

Heng.

Thou dar'st not cut my finger: here't is, touch it.

Jud.

The boy speaks sword and buckler, Prethee yield, boy: Come, here's an apple, yield.

Heng.

By—he fears me. I'll give you sharper language: When, ye coward, When come ye up?

Jud.

If he should beat me—

Heng.

When, Sir? I long to kill thee; come, thou can'st not scape me. I have twenty ways to charge thee; twenty deaths Attend my bloody staff.

Jud.

Sure't is the devil, A dwarf, devil in a doublet.

Heng.

I have kill'd a Captain, sirha, a brave Captain, And when I have done, I have kickt him thus. Look here, See how I charge this staff.

Jud.

Most certain This boy will cut my throat yet.

Enter two Soldiers running.

1. Sold.

Flee, flee, he kills us.

2. Sould.

He comes, be comes.

Jud.

The devil take the hindmost.

Heng.

Run, run, ye Rogues, ye precious Rogues, ye rank Rogues. A comes, a comes, a comes, a comes: that's he, boys. What a brave cry they make?

Enter Caratach with a head.

Car.

How does my chicken?

Heng.

'Faith, uncle, grown a Soldier, a great Soldier; For by the virtue of your charging-staff, And a strange fighting face I put upon't, I have outbrav'd hunger.

Car.

That's my boy, my sweet boy. Here, here's a Roman's head for thee.

Heng.

Good provision. Before I starve, my sweet-fac'd Gentleman, I'll trie your favour.

Car.

A right compleat Soldier. Come, chicken, let's go seek some place of strength (The Countrey's full of Scouts) to rest a while in, Thou wilt not else be able to endure The journey to my Countrey, fruits, and water, Must be your food a while, boy.

Heng.

Any thing: I can eat moss, I can live on anger, To vex these Romans. Let's be wary, Uncle.

Car.

I warrant thee; come chearfully.

Heng.

And boldly

Scaena Tertia.

Enter Penyus, Drusus, and Regulus.

Reg.

The soldier shall not grieve ye.

Pen.

Pray ye forsake me; Look not upon me, as ye love your Honors; I am so cold a coward, my infection Will choke your virtues like a damp else.

Dru.

Dear Captain.

Reg.

Most honour'd Sir.

Pen.

Most hated, most abhor'd; Say so, and then ye know me, nay, ye please me. O my dear credit, my dear credit.

Reg.

Sure His mind is dangerous.

Dru.

The good gods cure it.

Pen.

My honour got thorow fire, thorow stubborn breaches Thorow Battels that have been as hard to win as heaven, Thorow death himself, in all his horrid trims, Is gone for ever, ever, ever, Gentlemen, And now I am left to scornful tales and laughters, To hootings at, pointing with fingers, That's he, That's the brave Gentleman forsook the battel, The most wise Penyus, the disputing coward. O my good sword, break from my side, and kill me; Cut out the coward from my heart.

Reg.

Ye are none.

Pen.

He lyes that says so: by — he lyes, lyes basely, Baser than I have done. Come, soldiers, seek me, I have robb'd ye of your virtues: Justice, seek me, I have broke my fair obedience, lost shame take me, Take me, and swallow me, make ballads of me; Shame, endless shame: and pray do you forsake me.

Dru.

What shall we do?

Pen.

Good Gentlemen forsake me: You were not wont to be commanded. Friends, pray do it, And do not fear; for as I am a coward I will not hurt my self: when that mind takes me, I'll call to you, and ask your help. I dare not.

Enter Petillius.

Petill.

Good morrow, Gentlemen; where's the Tribune?

Reg.

There.

Dru.

Whence come ye, good Petillius?

Petill.

From the General.

Dru.

With what, for heavens sake?

Petill.

With good counsel, Drusus, And love, to comfort him.

Dru.

Good Regulus Step to the Soldier, and allay his anger; For he is wild as winter.

Exeunt Drusius and Regulus.

Petill.

O, are ye there? have at ye. Sure he's dead, It cannot be he dare out-live this fortune: He must die, 'tis most necessary; men expect it; And thought of life in him, goes beyond coward. Forsake the field so basely? fie upon't! So poorly to betray his worth; so coldly To cut all credit from the soldier? sure If this man mean to live, as I should think it Beyond belief, he must retire where never The name of Rome, the voice of Arms, or Honour Was known or heard of yet: he's certain dead, Or strongly means it; he's no Soldier else, No Roman in him; all he has done, but outside, Fought either drunk or desperate. Now he rises. How does Lord Penyus?

Pen.

As ye see.

Petill.

I am glad on't; Continue so still. The Lord General, The valiant General, great Swetonius—

Pen.

No more of me is spoken; my name's perish'd.

Petill.

He that commanded fortune and the day By his own valour and discretion, When, as some say, Penyus refused to come, But I believe 'em not, sent me to see ye.

Pen.

Ye are welcome; and pray see me; see me well, Ye shall not see me long.

Petill.

I hope so, Penyus; The gods defend, Sir.

Pen.

See me, and understand me: This is he Left to fill up your triumph; he that basely Whistled his honour off to th'wind; that coldly Shrunk in his politick head, when Rome like reapers Sweat blood, and spirit, for a glorious harvest, And bound it up, and brought it off: that fool, That having gold and copper offer'd him, Refus'd the wealth, and took the wast: that soldier That being courted by loud fame and fortune, Labour in one hand, that propounds us gods, And in the other, glory that creates us, Yet durst doubt, and be damned.

Petill.

It was an errour.

Pen.

A foul one, and a black one.

Petill.

Yet the blackest May be washt white again.

Pen.

Never.

Petill.

Your leave, Sir, And I beseech ye note me; for I love ye, And bring all comfort: Are we gods, Allied to no infirmities? are our natures More than mens natures? when we slip a little Out of the way of virtue, are we lost? Is there no medicine called Sweet mercy?

Pen.

None, Petillius; There is no mercy in mankind can reach me, Nor is it fit it should; I have sinn'd beyond it.

Petill.

Forgiveness meets with all faults.

Pen.

'Tis all faults, All sins I can commit, to be forgiven: 'Tis loss of whole man in me, my discretion To be so stupid, to arrive at pardon.

Petill.

O but the General —

Pen.

He's a brave Gentleman, A valiant, and a loving; and I dare say He would, as far as honor durst direct him, Make even with my fault, but 'tis not honest, Nor in his power: examples that may nourish Neglect and disobedience in whole bodies. And totter the estates and faiths of armies, Must not be plaid withall; nor out of pitty Make a General forget his duty: Nor dare I hope more from him than is worthy.

Petill.

What would ye do?

Pen.

Dye.

Petill.

So would sullen children, Women that want their wills, slaves, disobedient, That fear the law, die. Fie, great Captain; you A man to rule men, to have thousand lives Under your Regiment, and let your passion Betray your reason? I bring you all forgiveness, The noblest kind commends, your place, your honour.

Pen.

Prethee no more; 'tis foolish: didst not thou?

By—thou didst, I over-heard thee, there, There where thou standst now, deliver me for rascal, Poor, dead, cold coward, miserable, wretched, If I out-liv'd this ruine?

Petill.

I?

Pen.

And thou dist it nobly, Like a true man, a souldier: and I thank thee, I thank thee, good Petillius; thus I thank thee,

Petill.

Since ye are so justly made up, let me tell ye, 'Tis fit ye dye indeed.

Pen.

O how thou lov'st me!

Petill.

For say he had forgiven ye; say the peoples whispers Were tame again, the time run out for wonder, What must your own Command think, from whose Swords Ye have taken off the edges, from whose valours The due and recompence of Arms; nay, made it doubtful Whither they knew obedience? must not these kill ye? Say they are won to pardon ye, by meer miracle Brought to forgive ye; what old valiant Souldier, What man that loves to fight, and fight for Rome, Will ever follow you more? dare ye know these ventures? If so, I bring ye comfort; dare ye take it?

Pen.

No, no, Petillius, no.

Petill.

If your mind serve ye. Ye may live still; but how? yet pardon me, You may outwear all too, but when? and certain There is a mercy for each fault, if tamely A man will take't upon conditions.

Pen.

No, by no means: I am only thinking now, Sir, (For I am resolved to go) of a most base death, Fitting the baseness of my fault. I'll hang.

Petill.

Ye shall not; y'are a Gentleman I honor, I would else flatter ye, and force ye live, Which is far baser. Hanging? 'tis a dogs death, An end for slaves.

Pen.

The fitter for my baseness.

Petill.

Besides, the man that's hang'd, preaches his end, And fits a sign for all the world to gape at.

Pen.

That's true: I'll take a fitter poison.

Petill.

No, 'Tis equal ill; the death of rats and women, Lovers, and lazie boys, that fear correction, Die like a man.

Pen.

Why my sword then.

Petill.

I, If your Sword be sharp, Sir, There's nothing under heaven that's like your Sword; Your Sword's a death indeed.

Pen.

It shall be sharp, Sir.

Petill.

Why Mithridates was an arrant asse To dye by poison, if all Bosphorus Could lend him Swords: your Sword must do the deed: 'Tis shame to dye choak'd, fame to dye and bleed.

Pen.

Thou hast confirmed me: and, my good Petillius, Tell me no more I may live.

Petill.

'Twas my Commission; But now I see ye in a nobler way, A way to make all even.

Pen.

Fare-well, Captain: Be a good man, and fight well: be obedient: Command thy self, and then thy men. Why shakest thou?

Petill.

I do not Sir.

Pen.

I would thou hadst, Petillius: I would find something to forsake the world with Worthy the man that dies: a kind of earth-quake Through all stern valors but mine own.

Petill.

I feel now A kind of trembling in me.

Pen.

Keep it still, As thou lov'st virtue, keep it.

Petill.

And brave Captain, The graet and honoured Penyus.

Pen.

That again: O how it heightens me! again, Petillius.

Petill.

Most excellent Commander.

Pen.

Those were mine, Mine, only mine.

Petill.

They are still.

Pen.

Then to keep 'em For ever falling more, have at ye, heavens, Ye everlasting powers, I am yours: The work's done,

Kills himself.

That neither fire nor age, nor melting envy Shall ever conquer. Carry my last words To the great General: kiss his hands and say, My soul I give to heaven, my fault to justice Which I have done upon my self: my virtue, If ever there was any in Poor Penyus, Made more, and happier, light on him. I faint. And where there is a foe, I wish him fortune. I dye: lye lightly on my ashes, gentle earth.

Petill.

And on my sin. Farewell, great Penyus,

Noise within.

The souldier is in fury. Now I am glad 'Tis done before he comes. This way, for me, The way of toile; for thee, the way of honor.

Exit.

Enter Drusus and Regulus with Souldiers.

Sould.

Kill him, kill him, kill him.

Dru.

What will ye do?

Reg.

Good soldiers, honest soldiers.

Sould.

Kill him, kill him, kill him.

Dru.

Kill us first; we command too.

Reg.

Valiant Soldiers, Consider but whose life ye seek. O Drusus, Bid him be gone, he dies else. Shall Rome say (Ye most approved Souldiers) her dear children Devoured the fathers of the fights? shall rage And stubborn fury guide those swords to slaughter, To slaughter of their own, to civil ruine?

Dru.

O let 'em in: all's done, all's ended, Regulus, Penyus has found his last eclipse. Come, Souldiers, Come, and behold your miseries: come bravely, Full of your mutinous and bloody angers, And here bestow your darts. O only Romane, O father of the Wars.

Reg.

Why stand ye stupid? Where be your killing furies? whose sword now Shall first be sheath'd in Penyus? do ye weep? Howl out, ye wretches, ye have cause: howl ever. Who shall now lead ye fortunate? whose valor Preserve ye to the glory of your Countrey? Who shall march out before ye, coy'd and courted By all the Mistrisses of War, care, counsel, Quick-ey'd experience, and victory twin'd to him? Who shall beget ye deeds beyond inheritance To speak your names, and keep your honors living, When children faill, and time that takes all with him, Build houses for ye to oblivion?

Dru.

O ye poor desperate fools: no more now, souldiers? Go home, and hang your arms up; let rust rot 'em; And humble your stern valors to soft prayers; For ye have sunk the frame of all your virtues; The sun that warm'd your bloods is set for ever: I'll kiss thy honor'd cheek. Farewell, great Penyus, Thou thunder-bolt, farewell. Take up the body; To morrow morning to the Camp convey it. There to receive due Ceremonies. That eye That blinds himself with weeping, gets most glory.

Exeunt with a dead march.

Scaena Quarta.

Enter Swetonius, Junius, Decius, Demetrius, Curius, and Souldiers: Bonduca, two Daughters, and Nennius, above. Drum and Colours.

Swet.

Bring up the Catapults and shake the wall, We will not be out out-brav'd thus.

Nen.

Shake the earth, Ye cannot shake our souls. Bring up your Rams, And with their armed heads, make the Fort totter; Ye do but rock us into death.

Exit Nennius.

Jun.

See, Sir, See the Icenian Queen in all her glory From the strong battlements proudly appearing, As if she meant to give us lashes.

Dec.

Yeild, Queen.

Bond.

I am unacquainted with that language, Roman.

Swet.

Yield honour'd Lady, and expect our mercy,

Exit Decius.

We love thy nobleness.

Bond.

I thank ye, ye say well; But mercy and love are sins in Rome and hell.

Swet.

Ye cannot scape our strength; ye must yield, Lady, Ye must adore and fear the power of Rome.

••ond.

If Rome be earthly, why should any knee With bending adoration worship her? She's vitious; and your partial selves confess, Aspires the height of all impiety: Therefore 'tis fitter I should reverence The thatched houses where the Britains dwell In careless mirth, where the blest houshold gods See nought but chast and simple purity. 'Tis not high power that makes a place divine, Nor that the men from gods derive their line But sacred thoughts in holy bosoms stor'd, Make people noble, and the place ador'd.

Swet.

Beat the wall deeper.

Bond.

Beat it to the center, We will not sink one thought.

Swet.

I'll make ye.

Bond.

No.

2. Dau.

O mother, these are fearful hours: speak gently.

Enter Petillius.

To these fierce men, they will afford ye pitty.

Bond.

Pitty? thou fearful girl; 'tis for those wretches That misery makes tame. Wouldst thou live less? Wast not thou born a Princess? Can my blood, And thy brave fathers spirit, suffer in thee So base a separation from thy self, As mercy from these Tyrants? Thou lov'st lust sure, And long'st to prostitute thy youth and beauty To common slaves for bread. Say they had mercy; The divel a relenting conscience: The lives of Kings rest in their Diadems, Which to their bodies lively souls do give, And ceasing to be Kings, they cease to live. Show such another fear, and — I'll fling thee to their fury.

Swet.

He is dead then?

Petill.

I think so certainly; yet all my means, Sir, Even to the hazzard of my life—

Swet.

No more: We must not seem to mourn here.

Enter Decius.

Dec.

There's a breach made, Is it your will we charge, Sir?

Swet.

Once more mercy, Mercy to all that yield

Bond.

I scorn to answer: Speak to him girl; and hear thy Sister.

1. Dau.

General, Hear me, and mark me well, and look upon me Directly in my face, my womans face. Whose only beauty is the hate it bears ye; See with thy narrowest eyes, thy sharpest wishes, Into my soul, and see what there inhabits; See if one fear, one shadow of a terror, One paleness dare appear but from my anger, To lay hold on your mercies. No, ye fools, Poor fortunes fools, we were not born for triumphs, To follow your gay sports, and fill your slaves With hoots and acclamations.

Petill.

Brave behaviour.

1. Dau.

The children of as great as Rome, as noble, Our names before her, and our deeds her envy; Must we guild ore your Conquest, make your State, That is not fairly strong, but fortune? No, no, ye Romans, we have ways to scape ye, To make ye poor again, indeed our prisoners, And stick our triumphs full.

Petill.

's death, I shall love her.

1. Dau.

To torture ye with suffering, like our slaves; To make ye curse our patience, wish the world Were lost again, to win us only, and esteem The end of all ambitions.

Bond.

Do ye wonder? We'll make our monuments in spite of fortune, In spight of all your Eagles wings: we'll work A pitch above ye; and from our height we'll stoop As fearless of your bloody soars; and fortunate, As if we prey'd on heartless doves.

Swet.

Strange stiffness. Decius, go charge the breach.

Exit Decius.

Bond.

Charge it home, Roman, We shall deceive thee else. Where's Nennius?

Enter Nennius.

Nen.

They have made a mighty breach.

Bond.

Stick in thy body, And make it good but half an hour.

Nen.

I'll do it.

1. Dau.

And then be sure to dye.

Nen.

It shall go hard else.

Bond.

Fare well with all my heart; we shall meet yonder, Where few of these must come.

Nen.

Gods take thee, Lady.

Exit Nennius.

Bond.

Bring up the swords, and poison.

Enter one with Swords, and a great Cup.

2. Dau.

O my fortune!

Bond.

How, how, ye whore?

2. Dau.

Good mother, nothing to offend ye.

Bond.

Here, wench: Behold us, Romans.

Swet.

Mercy yet.

Bond.

No talking: Puff, there goes all your pitty. Come, short prayers, And let's dispach the business: you begin, Shrink not; I'll see ye do't.

2. Dau.

O gentle mother, O Romans, O my heart; I dare not.

Swet.

Woman, woman, Unnatural woman.

2. Dau.

O perswade her, Romans: Alass, I am young, and would live. Noble mother, Can ye kill that ye gave life? are my years Fit for destruction?

Swet.

Yield, and be a Queen still, A mother and a friend.

Bond.

Ye talk: come, hold it, And put it home.

1. Dau.

Fie, sister, fie, What would you live to be?

Bond.

A whore still.

2 Dau.

Mercy.

Swet.

Hear her, thou wretched woman.

2 Dau.

Mercy, mother: O whither will you send me? I was once Your darling, your delight.

Bond.

O gods, Fear in my family? do it, and nobly.

2 Dau.

O do not frown then.

1 Daugh.

Do it, worthy Sister: 'Tis nothing, 'tis a pleasure; we'll go with ye,

2 Daugh.

Oh if I knew but whither.

1 Daugh.

To the blessed, Where we shall meet our Father.

Swet.

Woman.

Bond.

Talk not.

1 Daugh.

Where nothing but true joy is.

Bond.

That's a good wench, mine own sweet girl; put it close to thee.

2 Daugh.

Oh comfort me still for heavens sake.

1 Daugh.

Where eternal Our youths are, and our beauties; where no Wars come, Nor lustful slaves to ravish us.

2 Daugh.

That steels me: Along farewel to this world.

Bond.

Good: I'll help thee.

1 Daugh.

The next is mine. Shew me a Roman Lady in all our stories, Dare do this for her honor: they are cowards, Eat coals like compell'd Cats: your great Saint Lucrece Dy'd not for honor; Tarquin topt her well, And mad she could not hold him, bled.

Petil.

By— am in love: I would give an hundred pound now But to lie with this womans behaviour. Oh the devil.

1 Daugh.

Ye shall see me example. All your Rome, If I were proud and lov'd ambition; If I were lustful, all your ways of pleasure; If I were greedy, all the wealth ye conquer—

Bond.

Make haste.

1 Daugh.

I will_Could not intice to live But two short hours this frailty: would ye learn How to die bravely Romans, to fling off This case of flesh, lose all your cares for ever? Live as we have done, well, and fear the gods, Hunt Honor, and not Nations with your swords, Keep your minds humble, your devotions high; So shall ye learn the noblest part, to die.

Dies.

Bend.

I come, wench; to ye all Fates hangmen; you That ease the aged destinies, and cut The threds of Kingdoms, as they draw 'em: here, Here's the draught would ask no less than Caesar To pledge it for the glories sake.

Cur.

Great Lady.

Swet.

Make up your own conditions.

Bond.

So we will.

Swet,

Stay.

Dem.

Stay,

Swet.

Be any thing.

Bond.

A Saint, Swetonius, When thou shalt fear, and die like a slave. Ye fools, Ye should have ti'd up death first, when ye conquer'd, Ye sweat for us in vain else: see him here, He's ours still, and our friend; laughs at your pities; And we command him with as easie reins As do our enemies. I feel the poison. Poor vanquish'd Romans, with what matchless tortures Could I now rack ye? But I pittie ye, Desiring to die quiet: nay, so much I hate to prosecute my victory, That I will give ye counsel e'r I die. If you will keep your Laws and Empire whole, Place in your Romans flesh, a Britain soul.

Dies.

Enter Decius.

Swet.

Desperate and strange,

Dec.

'Tis won, Sir, and the Britains All put to th' sword.

Swet.

Give her fair Funeral; She was truly noble, and a Queen.

Pet.

—Take it, A Love-mange grown upon me? what, a spirit?

Jun,

I am glad of this, I have found ye.

Petil.

In my belly, Oh how it tumbles?

Jun.

Ye good gods, I thank ye.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus.

Scaena Prima.

Enter Caratach upon a rock, and Hengo by him, sleeping.

Car.

Thus we afflicted Britains climb for safeties, And to avoid our dangers, seek destructions; Thus we awake to sorrows. O thou Woman, Thou agent for adversities, what curses This day belong to thy improvidence? To Britanie by thy means, what sad millions Of Widows weeping eyes? The strong mans valour Thou hast betraid to fury; the childs fortune To fear and want of friends, whose pieties Might wipe his mournings off, and build his sorrows A house of rest by his blest Ancestors: The Virgins thou hast rob'd of all their wishes, Blasted their blowing hopes, turned their songs, Their mirthful marriage-son•• to funerals, The Land thou hast left a wilderness of wretches. The boy begins to stir: thy safety made, Would my soul were in Heaven.

Heng.

O noble Uncle, Look out: I dream'd we were betrai'd.

A soft dead march within.

Car.

No harm, boy; 'Tis but thy emptiness that breeds these fancies: Thou shalt have meat anon,

Heng.

A little, Uncle, And I shall hold out bravely. What are those? Look, Uncle, look, those multitudes that march there? They come upon us stealing by.

Car.

I see 'em; And prethee be not fearful.

Heng.

Now ye hate me, Would I were dead.

Car.

Thou know'st I love thee dearly.

Heng.

Did I e'r shrink yet, Uncle? were I a man now; I should be angry with ye.

Enter Drusus, Regulus, and Soldiers, with Penyus's Herse, Drums and Colours.

Car.

My sweet chicken, See, they have reach'd us, and as it seems they bear Some soldiers body, by their solemn gestures, And sad solemnities; it well appears too To be of eminence. Most worthy Soldiers, Let me intreat your knowledge to inform me What noble Body that is which you bear With such a sad and ceremonious grief, As if ye meant to wooe the World and Nature To be in love with death? Most honorable Excellent Romans, by your antient valours, As ye love Fame, resolve me.

Sold.

'Tis the Body Of the great Captain Penyus, by himself Made cold and spiritless.

Car.

O stay, ye Romans, By the Religion which you owe those gods That lead ye on to Victories, by those glories Which made even pride a virtue in ye—

Dru.

Stay: What's thy Will, Caratach

Car.

Set down the body, The body of the noblest of all Romans,

As ye expect an offering at your Graves From your friends sorrows, set it down awhile. That with your griefs an enemy may mingle; A noble enemy that loves a Soldier; And lend a tear to virtue; even your foes, Your wild foes, as you call'd us, are yet stor'd With fair affections, our hearts fresh, our spirits, Though sometime stubborn, yet when virtue dies, Soft and relenting as a Virgins prayers, Oh set it down.

Dru.

Set down the body, soidiers.

Car.

Thou hallowed relique, thou rich Diamond Cut with thine own dust; thou for whose wide fame The world appears too narrow, mans all thoughts, Had they all tongues, too silent; thus I bow To thy most honour'd ashes: though an enemy, Yet friend to all thy worths: sleep peaceably; Happiness crown thy soul, and in thy earth Some Lawrel fix his seat, there grow, and flourish, And make thy grave an everlasting triumph. Farewell all glorious Wars, now thou art gone, And honest Arms adieu: all noble battels Maintain'd in thirst of honour, not of bloud, Farewell for ever.

Heng.

Was this Roman, Uncle, So good a man?

Car.

Thou never knew'st thy Father.

Heng.

He dy'd before I was born.

Car.

This worthy Roman Was such another piece of endless honor, Such a brave soul dwelt in him: their proportions And faces were not much unlik, boy; excellent nature, See how it works into his eyes; mine own boy.

Heng.

The multitudes of these men, and their fortunes, Could never make me fear yet: one mans goodness—

Car.

O now thou pleasest me: weep still, my child, As if thou saw'st me dead; with such a flux Or flood of sorrow: still thou pleasest me. And worthy soldiers, pray receive these pledges, These hatchments of our griefs, and grace us so much To place 'em on his Hearse. Now if ye please, Bear off the noble burden; raise his pile High as Olympus, make heaven to wonder To see a star upon earth out-shining theirs. And ever loved, ever living be Thy honoured and most sacred memory.

Dru.

Thou hast done honestly, good Caratach, And when thou diest, a thousand virtuous Romans Shall sing thy soul to heaven. Now march on, soldiers.

Exeunt. A dead march.

Car.

Now dry thine eyes, my boy.

Heng.

Are they all gone? I could have wept this hour yet.

Car.

Come, take cheer, And raise thy spirit, child: if but this day Thou canst bear out thy faintness, the night coming I'll fashion our escape.

Heng.

Pray fear not me; Indeed I am very hearty.

Car.

Be so still; His mischiefs lessen, that controuls his ill.

Exeunt.

Scaena Secunda.

Enter Petillius.

Pet.

What do I ail, i'th' name of heaven I did but see her, And see her die: she stinks by this time strongly, Abominably stinks: she was a woman, A thing I never car'd for: but to die so, So confidently, bravely, strongly; Oh the devil, I have the bots, by—she scorn'd us strangely, All we could do, or durst do; threatned us With such a noble anger, and so governed With such a fiery spirit—; the plain bots; A—upon the bots, the love-bots: hang me, Hang me even out o'th' way, directly hang me. Oh penny pipers, and most painful penners Of bountiful new Ballads, what a subject, What a sweet subject for your silver founds, Is crept upon ye?

Enter Junius.

Jun.

Here he is; have at him.

Sings.

She set the sword unto her Breast. great pity it was to see, That three drops of her Life-warm bloud, run trickling down her knee. Art thou there, bonny boy? and i'faith how dost thou?

Petil.

Well, gramercie, how dost thou? h'as found me, Sented me out: the shame the devil ow'd me. H'as kept his day with. And what news, Junius?

Jun.

It was an old tale ten thousand times told, Of a young Lady was turn'd into mold, Her life it was lovely, her death it was bold.

Pet.

A cruel rogue, now h'as drawn, pursue it on me, He hunts me like a devil. No more singing; Thou hast got a cold: come, let's go drink some Sack, boy.

Jun.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,

Pet.

Why dost thou laugh? What Mares nest hast thou found?

Jun.

Ha, ha, ha. I cannot laugh alone: Decius, Demetrius, Curius, oh my sides, Ha, ha, ha, The strangest jest.

Petil.

Prethee no more.

Jun.

The admirablest fooling.

Pet,

Thou art the prettiest fellow.

Jun.

Sirs.

Pet.

Why Junius; Prethee away, sweet Junius.

Jun.

Let me sing then.

Pet.

Whoa, here's a stir now: sing a song o' six pence, By—(if) prethee;—on't: Junius.

Jun.

I must either sing; or laugh.

Pet.

And what's your reason?

Jun.

What's that to you?

Pet.

And I must whistle.

Jun.

Do so. Oh, I hear 'em coming.

Pet.

I have a little business.

Jun.

Thou shalt not go, believe it: what a Gentleman Of thy sweet conversation?

Pet.

Captain Junius, Sweet Captain, let me go with all celerity; Things are not always one: and do not question, Nor jeer, nor gybe: none of your doleful Ditties, Nor your sweet conversation, you will find then I may be anger'd.

Jun.

By no means, Petillius; Anger a man that never knew passion? 'Tis most impossible: a noble Captain, A wise and and generous Gentleman?

Pet.

Tom Puppie. Leave this way to abuse me: I have found ye, But for your mothers sake I will fo••give ye. Your subtil understanding may discover (As you think) some trim toy to make you merry; Some straw to tickle ye; but do not trust to't; Y' are a young man, and may do well: be sober: Carry your self discreetly.

Enter Decius, Demetrius, Curius.

Jun,

Yes forsooth.

Dem.

How does the brave Petillius?

Jun.

Monstrous merry:

We two were talking what a kind of thing I was when I was in love; what a strange monster For little Boys and Girls to wonder at; How like a fool I lookt.

Dec.

So they do all, Like great dull slavering fools.

Jun.

Petillius saw too.

Pet.

No more of this, 'tis scurvie, peace.

Jun.

How nastily, Indeed, how beastly all I did became me? How I forgot to blow my nose? there he stands, An honest and a wise man; if himself (I dare avouch it boldly, for I know it) Should find himself in love—

Petill.

I am angry.

Jun,

Surely his wise self would hang his beastly self, His understanding-self so mawl his ass-self—

Dec.

He's bound to do it; for he knows the follies, The poverties, and baseness that belongs to't, Ha's read upon the reformations long.

Petill.

He has so.

Jun.

'Tis true, and he must do't: Nor is it fit indeed any such coward—

Petill.

You'll leave prating.

Jun.

Should dare come near the Regiments, especially Those curious puppies (for believe there are such) That only love behaviours: those are dog-whelps, Dwindle away, because a Woman dies well; Commit with passions only: fornicate With the free spirit merely: you, Petillius, For you have long observ'd the World.

Petill.

Dost thou hear? I'll beat thee damnably within these three hours: Go pray; may be I'll kill thee. Farewel Jack-daws.

Exit.

Dec.

What a strange thing he's grown?

Jun.

I am glad he is so; And stranger he shall be before I leave him.

Cur.

Is 't possible her mere death—

Jun.

I observ'd him, And found him taken, infinitely taken With her bravery, I have follow'd him, And seen him kiss his sword since, court his scabbard, Call dying, dainty deer; her brave mind, Mistriss; Casting a thousand ways, to give those forms, That he might lie with 'em, and get old Armors: He had got me o' th' hip once: it shall go hard, friends, But he shall find his own coin.

Enter Macer.

Dec.

How now Macer? Is Judas yet come in?

Enter Judas.

Mac.

Yes, and has lost Most of his men too. Here he is.

Car.

What news?

Jud.

I have lodg'd him; rouze him he that dares.

Dem.

Where, Judas?

Jud.

On a steep rock i' th' woods, the boy too with him, And there he swears he will keep his Christmas Gentlemen, But he will come away with full conditions, Bravely, and like a Britain: he paid part of us. Yet I think we fought bravely: for mine own part, I was four several times at half sword with him, Twice stood his partizan: but the plain truth is, He's a meer devil, and no man; i' th' end he swing'd us, And swing'd us soundly too, he fights by Witchcraft: Yet for all that I see him lodg'd.

Jun.

Take more men, And scout him round. Macer, march you along. What victuals has he?

Jud.

Not a piece of Bisket, Not so much as will stop a tooth; nor Water, More than they make themselves: they lie Just like a brace of Bear-whelps, close, and crafty, Sucking their fingers for their food.

Dec.

Cut off then All hope of that way: take sufficient forces.

Jun.

But use no foul play, on your lives: that man That does him mischief by deceit, I'll kill him.

Macer.

He shall have fair play, he deserves it.

Jud.

Hark ye. What should I do there then? you are brave Captains, Most valiant men; go up your selves; use virtue, See what will come on't: pray the Gentleman To come down, and be taken. Ye all know him, I think ye have felt him too: there ye shall find him, His sword by his side, plums of a pound weight by him Will make your chops ake: you'll find it a more labour To win him living, than climbing of a Crows-nest.

Dec.

Away, and compass him; we shall come up I am sure within these two hours. Watch him close.

Macer.

He shall flee thorow the air, if he escape us.

A sad noise within.

Jun.

What's this loud lamentation?

Mac.

The dead body Of the great Penyus is new come to the Camp, Sir.

Dem.

Dead!

Macer.

By himself, they say.

Jun.

I fear'd that fortune.

Cur.

Peace guide him up to heaven.

Jun.

Away good Macer.

Exeunt Macer and Judas.

Enter Swetonius, Drusus, Regulus, Petillius.

Swet.

If thou be'st guilty, Some sullen plague thou hat'st most light upon thee. The Regiment return on Junius, He well deserves it.

Petill.

So.

Swet.

Draw out three Companies, Yours Decius, Junius, and thou Petillius, And make up instantly to Caratach, He's in the Wood before ye; we shall follow After due ceremony done to the dead, The noble dead: Come: let's go burn the Body.

Exeunt all but Petillius.

Petill.

The Regiment given from me; disgrac'd openly; In love too with a trifle to abuse me? A merry world, a fine world: serv'd seven years To be an ass o'both sides, sweet Petillius, You have brought your hogs to a fine market: you are wise, Sir, Your honourable brain-pan full of crotchets, And understanding Gentleman; your projects Cast with assurance ever: wouldst not thou now Be bang'd about the pate, Petillius Answer to that sweet soldier; surely, surely, I think ye would; pull'd by the nose, kick'd; hang thee, Thou art the arrant'st Rascal: trust thy wisdom With any thing of weight; the wind with feathers. Out ye blind puppie; you command? you govern? Dig for a groat a day, or serve a Swine-herd; Too noble for thy nature too. I must up; But what I shall do there, let time discover.

Exit

Scaena Tertia.

Enter Macer and Judas, with meat and a bottle,

Mac.

Hang it o' th' side o' th' rock, as though the Britains Stole hither to relieve him; who first ventures To fetch it off, is ours. I cannot see him.

Jud.

He lies close in a hole above, I know it, Gnawing upon his anger: ha? no, 'tis not he,

Macer.

'Tis but the shaking of the boughs,

Jud.

—Shake 'em, I am sure they shake me soundly. There.

Macer.

'Tis nothing.

Jud.

Make no noise if he stir, a deadly tempest Of huge stones fall upon us: 'tis done: away close.

Exit.

Enter Caratach.

Car.

Sleep still, sleep sweetly child, 'tis all thou feedst on. No gentle Britain ••ear; no valiant charity To bring thee food? poor knave, thou art sick extreme sick, Almost grown wild for meat; and yet thy goodness Will not confess, nor shew it. All the woods Are double lin'd with soldiers; no way left us To make a noble scape: I'll sit down by thee, And when thou wak'st, either get meat to save thee, O•• lose my life i'th' purchase, Good gods comfort thee.

Enter Junius, Decius, Petillius, Guide.

Guide.

Ye are not far off now, Sir.

Jun.

Draw the Companies The closest way thorow the woods; we'll keep on this way.

Guide.

I will Sir: half a furlong more you'll come Within the sight o' th' Rock; keep on the left side, You'll be discover'd else: I'll lodge your Companies In the wild Vines beyond ye.

Dec.

Do ye mark him?

Jun.

Yes, and am sorry for him.

Petill.

Junius, Pray let me speak two words with you.

Jun.

Walk afore, I'll overtake ye straight.

Dec.

I will.

Exit.

Jun.

Now, Captain.

Petill.

You have oft told me, you have lov'd me, Junius.

Jun.

Most sure I told you truth then.

Petill.

And that love Should not deny me any honest thing.

Jun.

It shall not.

Petill.

Dare ye swear it? I have forgot all passages between us That have been ill, forgiven too, forgot you.

Jun.

What would this man have? By — I do, Sir, So it be fit to grant ye.

Petell.

'Tis most honest.

Jun.

Why, then I'll do it.

Petill.

Kill me.

Jun.

How?

Petill.

Pray kill me.

Jun.

Kill ye?

Pet.

I, kill me quickly, suddenly, Now kill me.

Jun.

On what reason? ye amaze me.

Pet.

If ye do love me, kill me, ask me not why: I would be killed, and by you.

Jun.

Mercy on me, What ails this man? Petillius.

Petill.

Pray ye dispatch me, Ye are not safe whilst I live: I am dangerous, Troubled extreamly, even to mischief, Junius, An enemy to all good men: fear not, 'tis justice; I shall kill you else.

Jun.

Tell me but the cause, And I will do it.

Petill.

I am disgrac'd, my service Slighted, and unrewarded by the General, My hopes left wild and naked; besides these, I am grown ridiculous, an ass, a folly I dare not trust my self with: prethee kill me.

Jun.

All these may be redeem'd as easily As you would heal your finger.

Petill.

Nay—

Jun.

Stay, I'll do it, You shall not need your anger: But first, Petillius, You shall unarm your self; I dare not trust A man so bent to mischief.

Petill.

There's my sword; And do it handsomely.

Jun.

Yes, I will kill ye, Believe that certain: but first I'll lay before ye The most extreme fool ye have plaid in this, The honor purpos'd for ye, the great honor The General intended ye,

Petill.

How?

Jun.

And then I'll kill ye, Because ye shall die miserable. Know Sir, The Regiment was given me, but till time Call'd ye to do some worthy deed, might stop The peoples ill thoughts of ye, for Lord Penyus, I mean his death. How soon this time's come to ye, And hasted by Swetonius? Go, says he, Junius and Decius, and go thou Petillius; Distinctly, thou Petillius, and draw up, To take stout Caratach; there's the deed purpos'd, A deed to take off all faults, of all natures: And thou Petillius; Mark it, there's the honor, And that done, all made even.

Petill.

Stay.

Jun.

No, I'll kill ye. He knew thee absolute, and full in soldier, Daring beyond all dangers, found thee out According to the boldness of thy spirit, A Subject, such a Subject.

Petill.

Harke ye Junius, I will live now.

Jun.

By no means. Wooed thy worth, Held thee by the chin up, as thou sunk'st, and shew'd thee How Honor held her arms out: Come, make ready, Since ye will die an ass.

Petill.

Thou wilt not kill me?

Jun.

By—but I will, Sir: I'll have no man dangerous Live to destroy me afterward. Besides, you have gotten Honor enough, let young men rise now. Nay, I do perceive too by the General, (which is One main cause ye shall die) how e'r he carry it, Such a strong doting on ye, that I fear, You shall command in chief: how are we paid then? Come, if you will pray, dispatch it.

Petill.

Is there no way?

Jun.

Not any way to live.

Petill.

I will do any thing, Redeem my self at any price: good Junius, Let me but die upon the Rock, but offer My life up like a Soldier.

Jun.

You will seek then To out-doe every man.

Petill.

Believe it Junius, You shall goe stroke by stroke with me.

Jun.

You'l leave off too, As you are noble, and a soldier, For ever these mad fancies.

Petill.

Dare ye trust me? By all that's good and honest.

Jun,

There's your sword then, And now come on a new man: Virtue guide thee. Exeunt.

Enter Caratach, and Hengo on the Rock.

Car.

Courage my Boy, I have found meat: look Hengo, Look where some blessed Britain, to preserve thee, Has hung a little food and drink: cheer up Boy, Do not forsake me now.

Hengo.

Oh Uncle. Uncle, I feel I cannot stay long: yet I'll fetch it, To keep your noble life: Uncle, I am heart-whole, And would live.

Car.

Thou shalt, long I hope.

Hen.

But my head, Uncle: Methinks the Rock goes round.

Enter Macer and Judas.

Ma.

Mark 'em well, Judas.

Jud.

Peace, as you love your life.

Hen.

Do not you hear The noise of Bels?

Car.

Of Bels Boy? 'tis thy fancie, Alas, thy bodies full of wind.

Hen.

Methinks, Sir, They ring a strange sad knell, a preparation To some near funeral of State: nay, weep not, Mine own sweet Uncle, you will kill me sooner.

Car.

Oh my poor chicken.

Hen.

Fie, faint-hearted Uncle: Come, tie me in your Belt, and let me down.

Car.

I'll go my self Boy.

Hengo.

No, as ye love me, Uncle; I will not eat it, if I do not fetch it; The danger only I desire: pray tie me.

Car.

I will, and all my care hang o'r thee: come child, My valiant child,

Hen.

Let me down apace, Uncle, And ye shall see how like a Daw I'll whip it From all their policies: for 'tis most certain A Roman train: and ye must hold me sure too, You'll spoil all else. When I have brought it Uncle, We'll be as merry—

Car.

Go i' th' name of heaven, Boy.

Hen.

Quick, quick, Uncle, I have it. Oh.

Judas shoots Hengo.

Car.

What ail'st thou?

Hen.

O my best Uncle, I am slain.

Car.

I see ye, and heaven direct my hand: destruction Caratach kills Judas with a stone from the rock. Go with thy coward soul. How dost thou Boy? Oh villain, pocky villain.

Hen.

Oh Uncle, Uncle, Oh how it pricks me: am I preserv'd for this? Extremely pricks me.

Car.

Coward, rascal Coward, Dogs eat thy flesh.

Hen.

Oh I bleed hard: I faint too, out upon't, How sick I am? the lean Rogue, Uncle.

Car.

Look Boy, I have laid him sure enough.

Hen.

Have ye knockt his brains out?

Car.

I warrant thee for stirring more: cheer up, child.

Hen.

Hold my sides hard, stop, stop, oh wretched fortune, Must we part thus? Still I grow sicker, Uncle.

Car.

Heaven look upon this noble child.

Hen.

I once hop'd I should have liv'd to have met these bloody Romans At my swords point, to have reveng'd my Father, To have beaten 'em: oh hold me hard. But Uncle—

Car.

Thou shalt live still I hope Boy. Shall I draw it?

Hen.

Ye draw away my soul then, I would live A little longer; spare me heavens, but only To thank you for your tender love. Good Uncle, Good noble Uncle weep not.

Car.

Oh my chicken, My dear Boy, what shall I lose?

Hen.

Why, a child, That must have died however: had this scap'd me, Feaver or famine—I was born to die. Sir.

Car.

But thus unblown, my boy?

Hen.

I go the straighter My journey to the gods: Sure I shall know ye When ye come, Uncle.

Car.

Yes, Boy

Hen.

And I hope We shall enjoy together that great blessedness You told me of.

Car.

Most certain, child.

Hen.

I grow cold, Mine eyes are going.

Car.

Lift 'em up.

Hen.

Pray for me; And noble Uncle, when my bones are ashes, Think of your little Nephew. Mercy.

Car.

Mercy. You blessed Angels take him.

Hen.

Kiss me: so. Farewel, farewel.

Dies.

Car.

Farewel the hopes of Britain, Thou Royal graft, Farewel for ever. Time and Death, Ye have done your worst. Fortune now see, now proudly Pluck off thy vail, and view thy triumph: Look Look what thou hast brought this Land to. Oh fair flower, How lovely yet thy ruines show, how sweetly Even death embraces thee! The peace of heaven, The fellowship of all great souls be with thee.

Enter Petillius and Junius on the rock.

Hah? dare ye Romans? ye shall win me bravely. Thou art mine.

Fight

Jun.

Not yet, Sir,

Car.

Breath ye, ye poor Romans, And come up all, with all your antient valors, Like a rough wind I'll shake your souls, and send 'em—

Enter Swetonius, and all the Roman Captains.

Swet.

Yield thee bold Caratach; by all— As I am Soldier, as I envie thee, I'll use thee like thy self, the valiant Britain.

Pet.

Brave soldier yield; thou stock of Arms and Honor, Thou filler of the World with Fame and Glory.

Jun.

Most worthy man, we'll wooe thee, be thy prisoners.

Swet.

Excellent Britain, do me but that Honor, That more to me than Conquests, that true happiness, To be my friend.

Car.

Oh Romans, see what here is: Had this Boy liv'd—

Swet.

For Fames sake, for thy Swords sake, As thou desirest to build thy virtues greater: By all that's excellent in man, and honest—

Car.

I do believe: Ye have had me a brave foe; Make me a noble friend, and from your Goodness, Give this Boy honourable earth to lie in.

Swet.

He shall have fitting Funeral.

Car.

I yield then. Not to your blows, but your brave courtesies.

Petill.

Thus we conduct then to the arms of Peace The wonder of the World.

Swet.

Thus I embrace thee,

Flourish.

And let it be no flattery that I tell thee, Thou art the only Soldier.

Car.

How to thank ye, I must hereafter find upon your usage. I am for Rome.

Swet.

Ye must.

Car.

Then Rome shall know The man that makes her spring of glory grow.

Swet.

Petillius, you have shown much worth this day, redeem'd much error, Ye have my love again; preserve it, Junius, With you I make him equal in the Regiment.

Jun.

The elder and the nobler: I'll give place, Sir.

Swet.

Ye shew a friends soul. March on, and through the Camp in every tongue. The Virtues of great Caratach be sung.

Exeunt.