SCENE VII.

CHORUS.

_1st Song._

_Come, fellow-bards, and sing with cheer;_ _Since dreadful alarums we shall no more hear._ _Come, lovely peace, our saint divine,_ _Olive and laurel do love for to twine._ _The Graces and Muses, and nymphs in a round:_ _Let voice beat the air, and feet beat the ground._

_So hell's black image chas'd away,_ _Eos doth dandle the goldy-lock'd day;_ _So, Bruma[346] banish'd all forlorn,_ _Cupid and Flora the spring do adorn:_ _And so, the grim fury of Mars laid in grave,_ _A merrier ending doth friendly peace crave._

_2d Song._

_The sky is glad, that stars above_ _Do give a brighter splendour:_ _The stars unfold their flaming gold,_ _To make the ground more tender:_ _The ground doth send a fragrant smell,_ _That air may be the sweeter:_ _The air doth charm the swelling seas_ _With pretty chirping metre:_ _The sea with rivers' water doth_ _Feed[347] plants and flowers dainty:_ _The planets do yield their fruitful seed,_ _That beasts may live in plenty:_ _The beasts doth give both food and cloth,_ _That men high Jove may honour:_ _And so the world runs merrily round,_ _When peace doth smile upon her._ _O then, then O! O then, then O!_ _This jubilee last for ever:_ _That foreign spite or civil fight_ _Our quiet trouble never._ [_Exeunt._

MERCURY _reducing the ghosts of_ CAMILLUS _and_ BRENNUS.

CAM. How bravely Cæsar pass'd the angry main!

BREN. How bravely was he back repuls'd again!

CAM. How did he wheel his sword in Nennius' face!

BREN. How did he lose his sword, and fly apace!

CAM. How did again his army fill your coast!

BREN. Ay, when our princes did conduct his host.

CAM. How did they pierce through Isis' dangerous flood!

BREN. But made her swell, and bankrupt[348] with their blood.

CAM. Mirror of captains, Julius, still hath won.

BREN. But we may justly brag of two for one.

CAM. Confess, our valorous race hath now repaid The Allian massacre[349] and our city's flame: See how they yield, and yearly tribute pay.

BREN. No, proud dictator, both do weary stand On equal terms: both wish a peaceful league. But if they shall oppress, know, generous spirits Will break this compact, like a spider's web.

MER. Jove's will is finish'd: and, though Juno frown, That no more Trojan blood shall dye the stage, The world's fourth empire Britain doth embrace. The thunder-bearer with a Janus look At once views ruddy morn and cloudy west: Her wings, display'd o'er this terrestrial egg, Will shortly hatch an universal peace; For Jove intends a favour to the world. It now remains that you two martial wights Cease from your braving one another's worth: You must be friends at last. The close is sweet, When, after tumults, hearts and hands do meet. [_Exeunt._

_Nec lusisse pudet, sed non incidere ludum._

FOOTNOTES:

[339] The wife of Locrine. See Geoffrey of Monmouth, bk. ii. c. 4.

[340] A coxcomb, or conceited person. So in "The Emperor of the East,"