CASSIBELAN

Although the peoples voice constrains me hold This Regal staff, whose massy weight would bruise Your age and pleasures: yet this, Nephews, know: Your trouble less, your honour is the same, As if you wore the Diadem of this I'll. Mean while Androgeus hold unto your use Our Lady-City Troynovant, and all The Toll and Tribute of delicious Kenned; Of which each Quarter can maintain a King. Have you, Themantius, Cornewalles Dukedom large, Both rich and strong, in metals and in men. I must to Verulams fenced town repair, And as Protector for the whole take care. And dares proud Caesar back our untamed surges? Dreads he not our Sea-monsters? whose wild shapes Their Theaters near yet in Picture saw. Come Sirs, To arms, To arms: Let speedy posts Summon our petty Kings, and muster up Our valorous nations from the North, and West. Androgeus hast you to the Scots and Picts, Two Names, which now Albania's kingdom share: Entreat their aid, if not for love, yet fear: For new foes should imprint swift-equal fear Through all the arteries of our I'll. Belinus, thy authority must rouse The vulgar troops within my special charge, Fire the Beacons, strike alarms loud, Raise all the country gainst this common Foe: We'll soon confront him in his full career; This news more moves my choler, then my fear. Exeunt. Heavens favour Cridous fair Albania's King: And Britael decked with the Demetian Crown: The same to famous Guerted, whose command Embraces woody Ordovickes black Hills. Legate, you may your message now declare. Then read the rest. Bold mandates are unwelcome to free Princes. Legate withdraw; you shall be soon dispatched. Exit. Volus. Then Friends and Princes on this Blade take oath: First to your Country, to revenge her wrongs: And next to me, as General, to be led With unity and courage. they kiss the sword. Lets then dismiss the Legate with a frown: And draw our forces towards the Sea, to join With the four Kings of Kenned, and so affront His first arrival. But before all, let Our Priests and Druids in their hallowed groves Propitiate the gods, and scan events By their mysterious Arts. Exeunt. Comius, speak no more: He knows our mind. Falsehearted Gaul, darest thou persuade even me, For to betray my people to the sword? Now know I, thou art sent for to solicit Our Princes to rebel, to learn our strength. Lay hands on him: A Spy. And what are the particulars? We'll now invite them to a martial Feast, Carving with Fauchions, and carousing healths In their lives moisture. Well returned Androgens: enter Andr. Have you obtained, or is your suit denied? 'Tis well, our Kings consent for common good. When all are joined, we shall overspread the hills, And soldiers thicker than the sand on shore, Hide all the landing coasts. Ere next day break, The rocks shall answer, what the drum does speak. So, let them land. No matter which they choose Fish or Crows to be Executers: They'le find the Land as dangerous as the Sea. The Nature of our Soil won't bear a Roman, As Irish earth does poison poisonous beasts. On then: charge close, before they gather head. But where's the Answer which her Idol gave: Can you expound the sense? I know thy loyal heart, and prudent head, Upon whose hairs Time's child experience hangs A milkwhite badge of wisdom: And canst wield Thy tongue in Senate, and thy hands in field. Speak free, Belinus. I Like thy warning: with united stroke Of all our Nations, we'll his Camp beleaguer, Devouring ships and men. But one mischance, My Brother's wound, his mortal wound I fear, Turns all to wormwood. Why were you dumb you Idols! No Sainted Statue did foretell this grief. Come lets go visit him. You may, Lord General, Set Comius free: We love not to insult, But render good for ill. Exeunt. Set down that heavy load with heavier hearts. Could virtuous valour, honourable thoughts, A noble scorn of Fortune, pride, and death; Myriads of vows and prayers sent to heaven, Could Countries Jove, or Britain's Genius save A mortal man from sleeping in his graven: Then hadst thou lived great Nennius, and outlived The smooth-tongued Greek. But we may more envy, And less bewail thy lose, since thou didst fallen On honours lofty Fieldbed, on which Stage Never did Worthy act a statelier partly. Nor durst pale death approach with Cypress sad, Till flourishing Bay thy conquering temples clad. Turnus may conceal his Name, Nennius had Aeneas fame. Hannibal let Africa smother, Ne ̄ nius was great Scipio's brother. Greece forbear Achilles story, Nennius had brave Hector's glory. Thrush and Nightingale be dumb: Sorrowful songs befit a Tomb. Turn you marble stones to water: Isis Nymphs forswear all laughter: Sighs and sob upon your bed: Belies noble Son is dead. Sorrow must doff her sable sable weeds, and joy Furbish the Court with fresh and vernant colours: Else should we seem ungrateful to the gods. Triumphs must thrust out Obsequies: And Tilt With Turny, and our ancient sport called Troy, Such as Julus about his Grandsires tomb Did represent. And at each Temples porch Games, songs, and holy murdering of beasts. they fit down. The Roman Eagle threatening woe, The Sea did shadow with her wing: But our Goose quills did prick her so, That from the clouds they down her bring. Both. Sing then you Hills and Dales so so clear: That Io Paean all may hear. They may us call Isles Fortunate; They sought for life here, not for Fame. All, yield to them, they to our State: The world knows but our Double Name. Both. Sing then you Streams and Woods so so clear: That Io Paean all may hear. Should he return: Our Province dares him front. So a most kind adieu unto all three. I know your faithful love, Kents fourfold Head, Will check rash Rebels, and as firmly stand As hearty Oaks, who bear off Aeolus blows, And with a whistle but deride his force. Burst gall, and die my actions in flame-colour: I saw Hirildas fallen, and breath his soul Even in my face. As though hell watched a time, To crush our pomp, and glory into sighs. The conduits of his vital spring being ripped, Spurtle'd my robes, soliciting Revenge. Belinus, Attach the Murderer, and if abettors Deny obedience, then with sword and fire Wast their Dominions. For a Traitors sake, Whole towns shall tremble, and the ground shall quake. Exeunt. We know our strength, and his: we'll fight in field. Some dozen miles from sea. And open Theater Gives luster to our prowess: To keep him out Supposes fear, not manhood. No, let him march, Till he rouse death, and stride his future graven. Fear not, thou knowest I can even with a whistle, Hide Kenned with glittering arms: More flaming sparkles Paint not a freezing night: nor speckled Bees Buzz not about sweet Hybla's bloomy head. But what needs millions, when some thousands serve? Oh did my Brother live! wee'de climb the Alps; Like brave Mulmutius sons; make Romulus wolf Howl horror in their streets, and Room look pale, As when the Punic Captain eyed her walls. march out. Oh that base Fortune should great spirits damp, And fawn on muddy slaves: That envious fate Should ripen villainy with a Syrian Due, And blast sweet virtue with a Sirian flame. A Catalogue of mischiefs do concur Our Britain Hector, Nennius dead: Our Kings Angry to be refused, fit still at home: And then those traitors with their train augment His huge and expert Army: Nothing stops him; Rivers, nor Rampiers, Woods, nor dangerous Bogs; On this side Thames his dismal Ensigns shine: Last, Kents unhappy rulers are at Sea Overthrown, and our men almost spent. Then, General, In desperate pride, and valours scornful rage, Let us run headlong through their armed tents, And make their Camp a Shambles: So to raise Our lofty tombs upon their slaughtered heaps. You Country-gods and Nymphs, who Albion love, Old Father Neptune, all you powers divine, Witness my loyal care: If humane strength, Courage, and policy, could a Kingdom save; We did our best. But discord, child of hell, Numbers of traine-men, and each Captain picked Out of a Province, make us bow or break. In vain we strive, when Deities do frown: When Destinies push, Atlas himself comes down. No Comius: There is more behind, than Caesar Hath overrun: Our Chariotters still driven, Our harness still is worn: Through woods and Lake's We'll tire his dainty soldiers: Then set fire On Towns, and sacrifice our selves, our wives, Our goods, and cattle, in one public flame: That wind may blow our ashes in his face. Thus far we hear you: If with honoured terms, And royal looks, he will accept our faith: We will obey, but never serve. Fate, and no fault of mine, makes me appear, To yield as far as honour gives me leave. We shall observe your will; so you impose A league, no yoke. They shake hands. Be all wrongs drenched in Lethe. All shall be done: Renowned Prince, whose worth, Unparalleled both as a Friend and Foe, We do admire. Accept this Surcoat, starrified with pearls, And Diamonds, such as our own shores breed. Since the great guide of all, Olympus King, Will have the Romans his Viceroys on earth: Since the read fatal eyes of crow-black night, Fling their malignant influence on our state: Since Britain must submit: It was her fame, None but a Julius Caesar could her tame. No custom shall bar Justice: I command That he appear before us. I'll soon rebate this Insolent disdain. Let not this dismal chance deface our joy: Most royal Friends. Wisdom confirm my Sense: what seemed their number? Wonder! What can their Arsenalles spawn so fast? Last year his Barks and Galleys were deboshed; This spring they sprout again: Belike their Navy Like the Lernean adder faster grows, The more 'tis pruned. They come their last. Lord Deputy, Led on the present troops, and leafy new. It best I think to let Him land, least view Of his huge Navy should our Commons fright: Retire our selves to some place of advantage, Entice him from his ships: So cut the veins Which nourish both: Enclosed he cannot escape. Uncertain 'tis, where, when, he makes inroad: To furnish all, unlikely: to neglect Any, were dangerous, as Pelides heel. Our shores are large, and level: Then t'attend His time and leisure, would exhaust the state, Weary our soldiers. But the Assailants are the flower of Italy Backed with four hundred Gallic horse, all tried And gallant troops, joined in one martial body, To give a fuller stroke; When we Defendants Scattered along, can weak resistance make: Plainness of ground affording us no shelter. No rampires keep him back: He presses forward, Though every stamp he treads, seems to conjure The fates from their infernal centre. None But he, durst be so bold. I, I, those treacherous caitiffs, rebel slaves: Oh may their countries heavy curse them sink Below the ninefold brazen gates of hell: That princox proud: I, it a escape in policy, I should have slain the whelps with their good Sire. Let Britain's climacterical year now run, The Series break of seventy Kings: Nay let One urn conclude our ashes and the world's. Befall what will: In amid of horrors noise, And crackling flames, when all is lost, wee'll die With weapons in our hands, and victory scorn: There's none that die so poor, as they are born. Faithful Belinus, let a Post command The Kentish Kings to set upon his fleet: While we here bid the base. Four thousand chariotteers, (Such as did glide upon the Phrygian Plains, And wheeling double service do perform, Both horseman's speed, and foot-mans stable strength) Still do remain: With these and flocking voluntaries Wee'll give him once more battle. Let the Captains Enter, and hear my charge. Enter Captains. He stands on a throne. Subjects and Fellow-soldiers; We must now try For ancient freedom, or perpetual bondage. There is no third choice. The enraged foe With cruel pride, proud avarice, hath spoiled From East to West, hunting for blood and gain. Your wives and daughters ravished, ransacked towns, Great bellies ripped with lances, sprawling babes, The spouse about her husbands neck run through By the same spear. Think on these Objects: Then choose them for your Lords, who spoil and burn Whole countries; and call Desolation, Peace. Yield, yield; That he ennobled by our spoils, May climb the Capitol with triumphant cart, You led fast fettered through the staring streets, For city Dams to mock your habit strange, And fill their arras hangings with our story. No: Brennus ghost forbid, who this night stood, Before my eyes, and grimly furious spoke: Shall Britain stoop to Roman Rods and Hatchet's, And servile tribute? Will you so defame Your ancestors, and your successors wrong, Heirs but of slavery Oh, this day make good The glory of so many ages passed! I see, you are incensed, and wish to use Your weapons, not your ears. All. To arms, to arms, to arms: Wee'll fight, and die. Expect in prison thy revenge. Away with him. exit. Come. Belinus, have you mustered up our Forces? Now hight Alarms die in fainter notes: Tempestuous night is gone: Victorious joy, (As when pale Eos cleaves the Eastern fogs, And blushing more and more opens half her eye, With holy water sprinkling all the meads, Whose clear Reflex serves as her Morning glass:) Does paint with gawdy plumes the checkered sky. The only Name of Victory sounds sweeter, Than all mellifluous Rhetoric. His breath is gone: who was his Countries prop, And my right hand. Now only does he crave, To see him laid with honour in the graven. Hold, hold: my Nephew's slain before my face. Life shall be paid with Life. Shall not? Your King and Uncle says, He shall. Our first attempt does prosper: They retiring Scud to the bosom of their Fir-tree vaults, And under hatches hide themselves from death. The Cornish band made havoc of their ranks, Like Scythian wolves amid of a bleating fold: The gingling lances, rattling chariot-wheels Madded their horse. The Bow men merrily shot.