ACT II, SCENE I.

CASSIBELANUS, CRIDOUS, BRITAEL, GUERTHED, NENNIUS, BELINUS, EULINUS. VOLUSENUS _following_.

CAS. Heavens favour Cridous, fair Albania's king: And Britael, deck'd with the Demetian crown: The same to famous Guerthed, whose command Embraces woody Ordovic's black hills. Legate, you may your message now declare.

VOL. By me great Cæsar greets the Briton state: This letter speaks the rest.

CAS. Then read the rest.

VOLUSENUS _reads_.

"Cæsar, Proconsul of Gallia, to Cassibelane, King of Britain.

Since Romulus' race by will of Jove Have stretch'd their empire wide From Danube's banks (by Tigris swift) Unto Mount Atlas' side: And provinces and nations strong With homage due obey; We wish that you, hid in the sea, Do likewise tribute pay. Submitting all unto our wills For rashly aiding Gaul: And noble lads for hostages Make ready at our call. These granted may our friendship gain; Denied shall work your woe. Now take your choice, whether you'd find Rome as a friend or foe."

CAS. Bold mandates are unwelcome to free princes. Legate, withdraw; you shall be soon despatch'd.

[_Exit_ VOLUSENUS.

CRI. He writes more like a victor than a foe; Whose greatness, risen from subdued nations, Is fasten'd only with fear's slippery knot. Nor can they fight so fierce for wealth or fame, As we for native liberty. With answer rough Bid him defiance. So thinks Cridous.

GUER. Guerthed maintains the same, and on their flesh I'll write my answer in red characters.

BRI. Thou ravenous wolf, imperious monster, Rome, Seven-headed Hydra, know, we scorn thy threats: We can oppose thy hills with mounts as high, And scourge usurpers with like cruelty. And thus thinks Britael.

EUL. Let Cæsar come: our land doth rust with ease, And wants an object, whose resisting power May strike out valorous flashes from her veins. So shadows give a picture life: so flames Grow brighter by a fanning blast. Nor think I am a courtier and no warrior born, Nor love object; for well my poet says:[277] _Militat omnis amans_, each lover is a soldier: I can join Cupid's bow and Mars his lance. A pewter-coat fits me as well as silk. It grieves me see our martial spirits trace The idle streets, while weapons by their side Dangle and lash their backs, as 'twere to upbraid Their needless use. Nor is it glory small They set upon us last, when their proud arms Fathom the land and seas, and reach both poles. On, then; so great a foe, so good a cause, Shall make our name more famous. So thinks Eulinus.

CAS. Then, friends and princes, on this blade take oath,[278] 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._

ALL. The gods bless Britain and Cassibelane.

NEN. Now, royal friends, the heirs of mighty Brute, You see what storm hangs hovering o'er this land, Ready to pour down cataclysms[279] of blood: Let ancient glory then inflame your hearts. Beyond the craggy hills of grim-fac'd Death, Bright Honour keeps triumphant court, and deeds Of martial men live there in marble rolls. Death is but Charon to the fortunate isles; Porter to Fame. What though the Roman, arm'd with foreign spoil, Behind him lead the conquer'd world, and hope To sink our island with his army's weight: Yet we have gods and men and horse to fight, And we can bravely die. But our just cause, Your forward loves, and all our people edg'd With Dardan[280] spirit and the powerful name Of country, bid us hope for victory. We have a world within ourselves, whose breast No foreigner hath unrevenged press'd These thousand years. Though Rhine and Rhone can serve, And envy Thames his never captive stream, Yet maugre all, if we ourselves are true, We may despise what all the earth can do.[281]

CAS. Let's then dismiss the legate with a frown: And draw our forces t'ward the sea, to join With the four kings of Kent, and so affront[282] His first arrival. But, before all, let Our priests and Druids, in their hallow'd groves, Propitiate the gods, and scan events By their mysterious arts. [_Exeunt._