Chapter XXIV: 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._

SCENE II.

EULINUS, HIRILDAS, ROLLANO.

HIR. Well, so: your tongue's your own, though drunk or angry.

ROL. Umh! [_Seals his mouth._

HIR. Speak not a word, upon your life: be dumb.

ROL. Umh! [_Gives him money._

HIR. I'll winch up thy estate. Be Harpocrates.[283]

ROL. Umh!

HIR. Thy fortunes shall be double-gilt. Be midnight.

ROL. Umh!

HIR. An excellent instrument, to be the bawd
To his dear lady! But, Rollano, hark;
What words, what looks did give my letter welcome?

ROL. Umh!

HIR. Nay, now thy silence is antedated: speak.

ROL. Umh!

HIR. I give thee leave, I say. Speak, be not foolish.

ROL. Then, with your leave, she us'd, upon receipt,
No words, but silent joy purpl'd her face;
And seeing your name, straight clapp'd it to her heart,
To print there a new copy; as she'd say,
The words went by her eyes too long a way.

HIR. You told her my conditions, and my oath
Of silence, and that only you be used?

ROL. All, sir.

HIR. And that this night----

ROL. Ay, sir.

HIR. You guard the door----

ROL. Ay, sir.

HIR. But I ne'er mean to come.

ROL. No, sir? O wretch!
Shall I deceive, when she remains so true?

HIR. No. Thou shalt be true, and she remain deceiv'd.
I'll lie, and yet I will not lie. My friend
Eulinus, in my shape, shall climb her bed,
This is the point. You'll promise all your aid?

ROL. Your servant to command, and then reward.

EUL. We'll draw thee, meteor-like, by our warm favour,
Unto the roof and ceiling of the court:
We'll raise thee (hold but fast) on fortune's ladder.
[_Exit_ ROLLANO.
This fellow is a medley of most lewd
And vicious qualities: a braggart, yet a coward;
A knave, and yet a slave: true to all villany,
But false to goodness. Yet now I love him,
Because he stands just in the way of love.

HIR. Coz, I commend you to the Cyprian queen,
Whilst I attend Diana in the forest:
My kinsman Mandubrace and I must try
Our greyhounds' speed after a lightfoot hare.

[_Exit_ HIRILDAS.

EUL. O love! whose nerves unite in equal bonds
This massy frame! thou cement of the world!
By which the orbs and elements agree,
By which all living creatures joy to be,
And dying live in their posterity.
Thy holy raptures warm each noble breast,
Sweetly inspiring more soul. Thy delight
Surpasses melody, nectar, and all pleasures
Of Tempe, and of Tempe's eldest sister,
Elysium: a banquet of all the senses!
By thy commanding power gods into beasts,
And men to gods, are chang'd, as poets say;
When sympathy rules, all like what they obey.
But love triumphs when man and woman meet
In full affection; double vows then fill
His sacred shrine. Yet this to me denied
More whets my passion: mutual love grows cold.
Venus, be thou propitious to my wiles,
And laugh at lovers' perjuries and guiles. [_Exit._

SCENE III.

LANTONUS, HULACUS, _two Druids, in long robes;_
_hats like pyramids, branches of misletoe._

LAN. That souls immortal are, I easily grant;
Their future state distinguish'd--joy or pain,
According to the merits of this life.
But then, I rather think, being free from prison
And bodily contagion, they subsist
In places fit for immaterial spirits;
Are not transfus'd from men to beasts, from beasts
To men again--wheel'd round about by change.

HUL. And were it not more cruel to turn out
Poor naked souls stripp'd of warm flesh (like land-lords),
Bidding them wander? then forsooth imagine
Some unknown cave or coast, whither all the myriads
Of souls deceas'd are shipp'd[284] and thrust together.
Nay, reason rather says, as at one moment
Some die, and some are born, so may their ghosts
Without more cost serve the succeeding age:
For (sure) they don't wear to be cast aside,
But enter straight less or more noble bodies,
According to desert of former deeds:
The valiant into lions; coward minds
Into weak hares; th' ambitious into eagles
Soaring aloft; but the perverse and peevish
Are next indeniz'd[285] into wrinkled apes,
Each vice and virtue wearing seemly shapes.

LAN. So you debase the gods' most lively image.
The human soul, and rank it with mere brutes,
Whose life, of reason void, ends with their sense.

_Enter_ BELINUS.

BEL. Hail to heaven's privy councillors! The king
Desires your judgment of these troublesome times.

LAN. The gods foretold these mischiefs long ago.

In Eldell's reign the earth and sky were fill'd
With prodigies, strange sights, and hellish shapes:
Sometimes two hosts with fiery lances met,
Armour and horse being heard amid the clouds:
With streamers red now march these airy warriors,
And then a sable hearse-cloth wraps up all;
And bloody drops speckled the grass, as falling
From their deep-wounded limbs:
Whilst staring comets[286] shook their flaming hair.
Thus all our wars were acted first on high,
And we taught what to look for.

HUL. Nature turns stepdame to her brood, and dams
Deny their monstrous issue. Saturn, join'd
In dismal league with Mars, portends some change.
Late in a grove, by night, a voice was heard
To cry aloud, _Take heed: more Trojans come!_
What may be known or done, we'll search, and help
With all religious care.

BEL. The king and army do expect as much:
That powers divine, perfum'd with odours sweet,
And feasted with the fat of bulls and rams,
Be pleas'd to bless their plots.

LAN. All rites and orisons due shall be perform'd:
Chiefly night's empress fourfold honour craves,
Mighty in heaven and hell, in woods and waves. [_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.

CÆSAR, VOLUSENUS, LABERIUS, _Soldiers_.

CÆS. What land, what people, and what answer, show.

VOL. We saw a paradise, whose bosom teems
With silver ore, whose seas are paved with pearl,
The meadows richly spread with Flora's tapestry;
The fields even wonder at their harvest-loads:
In crystal streams the scaly nations play,
Fring'd all along with trembling poplar trees.
The sun in summer, loth to leave their sight,
Forgets to sleep, and glancing makes no night.
Then, for the men, their stature's tall and big.
With blue-stain'd skins and long black dangling hair,
Promise a barbarous fierceness. They scarce know,
And much less fear our empire's might: but thus
Return'd defiance:--

"Cassibelane, King of Britain, to Julius Cæsar,[287]
Proconsul of Gallia.

Seeing your empire's great, why should it not suffice?
To covet more and more is tyrants' usual guise.
To lose what Jove you gave, you'd think it but unjust;
You have your answer then; defend this isle we must:
Which from the world cut off, and free from her first day,
Hath iron more for swords than gold for tribute's pay.
If amity and like fear succour to Gaul imparts,
Pardon, for this small brook could not divide our hearts.
We hope the gods will help, and fortune back our cause,
Who take arms but to keep our lives, our wives, and laws.
As you from Troy, so we our pedigree do claim:
Why should the branches fight when as the root's the same?
Despise us not because the sea and north us close:
Who can no farther go, must turn upon their foes.
Thus rudely we conclude: wage war, or change your will,
We hope to use a lance far better than a quill."

CÆS. I grieve to draw my sword against the stock
Of thrice-renowned Troy; but they are rude,
And must be frighted, ere we shall be friends.
Then let's aboard, and (hoisting sails) convey
Two legions over; for I long to view
This unknown land and all their fabulous rites:
And gather margarites[288] in my brazen cap.
Nature nor fates can valorous virtue stop.

LAB. Now Cæsar speaks like Cæsar: stronger and stronger,
Rise like a whirlwind; tear the mountain's pride;
Shake thy brass harness, whose loud clattering may
Waken Gradivus[289], where he sleeps on top
Of Hæmus, lull'd with Boreas' roaring base,
And put to flight this nation with the noise.
A fly is not an eagle's combatant.
Nor may a pigmy with a giant strive. [_Exeunt._

SCENE V.

CASSIBELANUS, BELINUS; COMIUS _following. Attendants._

COM. Health and good fortune on Cassibelane 'tend:
My love to you and Britain waft me hither
To make atonement, ere the Roman leader
Bring fire and spoil, and ruin on your heads.
No herb can ever grow where once he treads:
Nothing withstands his force. Be not too hardy,
But buy a friend with kindness, lest you buy
His anger dearly.

CAS. Comius, speak no more: he knows our mind.

COM. O, let not rage so blind your judgment, but
Prevent with ease the hazard of a war,
Of war, a word compos'd of thousand ills.
O, be not cruel to yourselves! I'll undertake
Without discredit to appease his wrath,
If you'll cashier your soldiers, and receive
Him like a guest, not like an enemy.

CAS. False-hearted Gaul, dar'st thou persuade e'en 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!

ALL. A spy! a spy! a traitor and a spy!

[_They chain him._

COM. Is this the guerdon[290] of my loving care?
You break the laws of nature, nations, friends.
But look for due revenge at Cæsar's hand.

CAS. Expect in prison thy revenge. Away with him!

[_Exit_ COMIUS.

Belinus, have you muster'd up our forces?

BEL. Yes, if it please your highness.

CAS. And what are the particulars?

BEL. First Cridous leads from the Albanian realm,
Where Grampius' ridge divides the smiling dales,
Five thousand horse and twenty thousand foot,
Three thousand chariots mann'd. The Brigants come,
Deck'd with blue-painted shields, twelve thousand strong;
Under the conduct of Demetia's prince
March twice three thousand, armed with pelts[291] and glaves;[292]
Whom the Silures flank, eight thousand stout,
Greedy of fight, born soldiers the first day,
Whose grey-goose winged shafts ne'er flew in vain.
Then Guerthed, mounted on a shag-hair steed,
Full fifteen thousand brings, both horse and foot,
Of desperate Ordovicians, whose use is
To rush half-naked on their foes, enrag'd
With a rude noise of pipes.
Your province, bounded with that boiling stream[293]
Where Sabrine (lovely damsel) lost her breath,
And with curl'd-pated Humber, Neptune's heir,
Affords eight thousand cars, with hooks and scythes,
And fifty thousand expert men of war;
All brave Loëgrians, arm'd with pike and spear;
Each nation, being distinguish'd into troops,
With gaudy pennons flickering[294] in the air.

Besides these, Kent is up in arms to blunt
The edge of their first furious shock.

CAS. We'll now invite them to a martial feast,
Carving with falchions, and carousing healths
In their lives' moisture.

_Enter_ ANDROGEUS.

Well-returned, Androgeus:
Have you obtain'd, or is your suit denied?

AND. Our message told unto the Scots; their king
With willing sympathy levies a band,
Ten thousand footmen, whose strange appetites
Murder and then devour; and dare gnaw and suck
Their enemies' bones. Conducted thence, we saw
The Pictish court, and friendly entertain'd,
Receive eight thousand, whose most ugly shapes,
Painted like bears and wolves, and brinded tigers,
May kill and stonify without all weapons.
More aid they promise, if more need. These forces,
Led by Cadallan, hither march with speed.

CAS. 'Tis well, our kings consent for common good.
When all are join'd, we shall o'erspread the hills,
And soldiers, thicker than the sand on shore,
Hide all the landing coasts. Ere next daybreak,
The rocks shall answer what the drum doth speak. [_Exeunt._

SCENE VI.

HULACUS, LANTONUS, _Ministers_.

LAN. That ceremonious fear, which bends the heart
Of mortal creatures, and displays itself
In outward signs of true obedience,
As prayer, kneeling, sacrifice, and hymns,
Requires again help from immortal deities,
As promise, not as debt. We laud their names:
They give us blessings, and forgive our blames.
Thus gods and men do barter: what in piety
Ascends, as much descends again in pity;
A golden chain reaching from heaven to earth.

HUL. And now's the time, good brother, of their aid,
When danger's black face frowns upon our state.
Away, away, ye hearts and tongues profane!
Without devotion mysteries are vain.

[_They kneel, elevate hands thrice._

LAN. Draw near, ye heavenly powers,
Who dwell in starry bowers;
And ye, who in the deep
On mossy pillows sleep;
And ye who keep the centre,
Where never light did enter;
And ye whose habitations
Are still among the nations;
To see and hear our doings,
Our births, our wars, our wooings:
Behold our present grief,
Belief doth beg relief.

_Both going around say_--

By the vervain and lunary,
By fern-seed planetary,
By the dreadful misletoe,
Which doth on holy oak grow,
Draw near, draw near, draw near!

HUL. Help us, beset with danger,
And turn away your anger;
Help us, begirt with trouble,
And now your mercy double:
Help us, oppress'd with sorrow,
And fight for us to-morrow.
Let fire consume the foeman,
Let air infect the Roman:
Let seas entomb their fury,
Let gaping earth them bury:
Let fire, and air, and water,
And earth, conspire their slaughter.

BOTH. By the vervain, &c.
Help us, help us, help us!

LAN. We'll praise then your great pow'r,
Each month, each day, each hour;
And blaze in lasting story
Your honour and your glory.
High altars lost in vapour,
Young heifers free from labour,
White lambs for suck still crying,
Shall make your music dying.
The boys and girls around,
With honeysuckles crown'd;
The bards with harp and rhyming,
Green bays their brows entwining,
Sweet tune and sweeter ditty,
Shall chant your gracious pity.

BOTH. By the vervain, &c.
We'll praise, we'll praise, we'll praise!

[_The image of the moon: the shrine opens._

HUL. Fix, holy brother, now your prayers on one,
Britain's chief patroness: with humble cry
Let us invoke the moon's bright majesty. [_They kneel._

LAN. Thou queen of heaven, commandress of the deep,
Lady of lakes, regent of woods and deer,
A lamp dispelling irksome night, the source
Of generable moisture; at whose feet,
With garments blue and rushy garlands dress'd,
Wait twenty thousand Naiades: thy crescent
Brute elephants adore, and man doth feel
Thy force run through the zodiac of his limbs.
O thou first guide of Brutus to this isle,
Drive back these proud usurpers from this isle.
Whether the name of Cynthia's silver globe:
Or chaste Diana with a gilded quiver:
Or dread Proserpina, stern Dis his spouse:
Or soft Lucina, call'd in childbed throes,
Doth thee delight--rise with a glorious face,
Green drops of Nereus trickling down thy cheeks,
And with bright horns, united in full orb,
Toss high the seas, with billows beat the banks,
Conjure up Neptune and th' Æolian slaves;
Contract both night and winter in a storm,
That Romans lose their way, and sooner land
At sad Avernus, than at Albion's strand.
So may'st thou shun the dragon's head and tail!
So may Endymion snort on Latmian bed!
So may the fair game fall before thy bow:
Shed light on us, but lightning on our foe!

HUL. Methinks a gracious lustre spreads her brow,
And with a nod she ratifies our suit.

WITHIN. Come near, and take this oracle.

LAN. Behold, an oracle flies out from her shrine;
Which both the king and state shall see, before
We dare unfold it. [_Exeunt._

SCENE VII.

BRENNUS'S GHOST, NENNIUS _in night-robes_.

BREN. Follow me.

NEN. Follow! what means that word? who art? thy will?

BREN. Follow me, Nennius.

NEN. He names me: sure, it is some friend which speaks.
I'll follow thee, though't be through Stygian lakes.

BREN. 'Tis ancient Brennus calls, whose victories
Europe and Asia felt, and still record.
Dear Nennius, now's the time to steel thy courage;
Canst thou behold thy mother captive, then
Look back upon thy ancestors, enroll'd
Among the worthies who spread wide her fame?
First let thy eyeballs pour out poison'd beams,
And kill them with disdain, who dare but lift
Their hand against her. No: no consul must
Boast of her thraldom, and outbrave our walls.
I wonder that such impudent owls should gaze
Against the splendour of our Briton cliffs:
Play thou a second Brennus: let thy lance,
Like an Herculean club, two monsters tame,
Rome's avarice and pride so come life or death,
Let honour have the incense of thy breath. [_Exit._

NEN. Farewell, heroic soul; thou shalt not blush
At Nennius' deeds. The smallest drop of fame
Is cheap, if death and dangers may it buy.
Yet give thy words new vigour to my spirits,
And spur the Pegasus of my mounting thoughts.
I'll follow thee o'er piles of slaughter'd foes,
And knock at Pluto's gate. I come. Come life or death,
Honour, to thee I consecrate my breath. [_Exit._

CÆSAR, CAMILLUS'S GHOST _following_.

CAM. Julius, stay here; thy friend Camillus speaks.

CÆS. O thou preserver of our present race!
Our city's second founder! what dire fate
Troubles thy rest, that thou shouldst trouble mine?

CAM. Only to bid thee fight.

CÆS. Thou shalt not need.

CAM. And bid thee take a full revenge on this--
This nation, which did sack and burn down Rome,
Quenching the coals with blood, and kick'd our ashes,
Trampling upon the ruins of our state;
Then led the Gauls in triumph thorough Greece,
To fix their tents beside Euxinus' gulf.

CÆS. Is this that Northern rout, the scourge of kingdoms,
Whose names, till now unknown, we judged Gauls--
Their tongue and manners not unlike?

CAM. Gauls were indeed the bulk; but Brennus led
(Then brother to the British king) those armies,
Back'd with great troops of warlike islanders.
To thee belongs to render bad for ill.
O, be my spirit doubled in thy breast,
With all the courage of three Scipios,
Marius and Sylla, that this nation, fierce
In feats of war, be forc'd to bear our yoke. [_Exit._

CÆS. So may'st thou sweetly rest, as I shall strive
To trace your steps: nor let me live, if I
Thence disappointed ever seem to fly. [_Exit._

SCENE VIII.

CHORUS.

_1st Song._

_Ancient bards have sung_
_With lips dropping honey_
_And a sugar'd tongue,_
_Of our worthy knights:_
_How Brute_[295] _did giants tame,_
_And, by Isis' current,_
_A second Troy did frame:_
_A centre of delights._

_Locrinus'_[296] _eldest son_
_Did drown the furious Hun,_
_But burnt himself with Elstred's love:_
_Leil_,[297] _rex pacificus;_
_Elud_,[298] _judicious,_
_Now heavenly bodies roll above._
_Wise Bladud_[299] _founded hath_
_Both soul and body's bath,_
_Like Icarus he flew:_
_Now first Mulmutius_[300] _wears_
_A golden crown, whose heirs_
_More than half the world subdue._

_2d Song._

_Thou nurse of champions, O thou spring_
_Whence chivalry did flow!_
_Thou diamond of the world's great ring,_
_Thy glorious virtue show:_

_Thou many a lord hast bred,_
_In catalogue of fame read;_
_And still we have_
_As captives brave,_
_As ever Britons led._
_Then dub a dub, dub._
_The armies join, tantara._

_Cassibelane with armour gay_
_And strongly couched lance,_
_His courser white turn'd into bay,_
_On carcases shall prance._
_What a crimson stream the blade_
_Of Nennius' sword hath made!_
_Black Allia's day_
_And Cannæ's fray_
_Have for a third long stay'd._
_Then dub a dub, dub._
_The armies join, tantara._

FOOTNOTES:

[276] [Fiddle.]

[277] Ovid.--_Steevens._

[278] [An usual form in ancient times.]

[279] Deluges.--_Steevens._

[280] [Allusively to the fabled descent of the Britons from the Trojans.]

[281] The same sentiment is introduced by Shakespeare into "King John," act v. sc. 7--

"This England never did, nor never shall,
Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror.
But when it first did help to wound itself;
Now these her princes are come home again,
Come the three corners of the world in arms.
And we shall shock them: nought shall make us rue,
If England to itself _do rest but true_."

Again, in the old play of "King John," 1591--

"If England's Peers and People join in one,
Nor Pope, nor France, nor Spain can do them wrong."

The same sentiment is in Borde's "Book of the Introduction of Knowledge," sig. A 4: "They (_i.e._, the English) fare sumptiously, God is served in their churches devoutli, but treason and deceit among them is used craftyly, ye more pitie, _for yf they were true wjthin themselfs, thei nede not to feare, although al nations were set against them_, specialli now, consydering our noble prince (_i.e._, Henry VIII.) hath and dayly dothe make noble defences as castels," &c.

[282] See note to "Cornelia," [v. 211.]

[283] A metaphor, from engines by which weights are raised or _winched_ up. Harpocrates was the god of silence.

[284] [Old copy, _slipt_].

[285] I suppose this word is compounded from _denizen_, _i.e._, one made free, and here very licentiously employed.--_Steevens._

[286] So in Milton's "Paradise Lost," bk. ii. l. 706--

"Incens'd with indignation Satan stood
Unterrify'd, and like a _comet_ burn'd,
That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge
In th' arctic sky, and from his horrid _hair_
_Shakes_ pestilence and war."

[287] See the letter printed in Geoffrey of Monmouth's History, bk. iv. c. 2.

[288] Pearls. In 1596 Tho. Lodge published a pamphlet, entitled, "A Margarite of America."

[289] Mars.

"_Gradivumque_ patrem Geticis qui præsidet arvis."

--_Virgil_, _Æneid_, iii. 35.

[290] Reward.

[291] Shields. The author of this play appears to advantage in this and the subsequent catalogues of warriors.--_Steevens._

[292] Broadswords.

[293] The Severn.

[294] Fluttering.

[295] See note to act iii., sc. 5.

[296] See Geoffrey of Monmouth, bk. ii.; the play of "Locrine," [probably by Charles Tylney, and falsely] attributed to Shakespeare; and Evans's "Old Ballads," vol. i.

[297] See Geoffrey of Monmouth, bk. ii. c. 9.

[298] _Ibid._, bk. iii. c. 19.

[299] _Ibid._, bk. ii. c. 10.

[300] Dunwallo Molmutius. See note to act iii. sc. 5. There was an old historical play called "Mulmutius Dunwallo," which in Henslowe's MS. has the date of September 1598 affixed to it; but it must have been written much earlier, as William Rankins, the author of it, had long before repented of his "lewd life," and in 1587 published his "Mirror of Monsters," a puritanical attack on the stage and plays in general.--_Collier._