Chapter III: Part 3

_Cra._ Which in some part this hour shall requite
For I have aim'd my black shafts at white marks,
And now I'll put the clew into your hands
Shall guide ye most perspicuously to the depth
Of this dark Labyrinth, where so long ye were lost
Touching this old Rape, and a new intent.
Wherein your counsel, and your active wit
My dearest Brother will be necessary.

_Euph._ My Prophesie is come, prove my hopes true
_Agenor_ shall have right, and you no wrong,
Time now will pluck her daughter from her Cave:
Let's hence to prevent rumour; my dear Brother,
Nature's divided streams the highest shelf
Will over-run at last, and flow to it self. [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quintus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Crates, Euphanes, Neanthes, Sosicles, _Eraton_.

_Euph._ I Have won the Lady to it, and that good
Which is intended to her, your faith only
And secresie must make perfect; Think not Sir,
I speak as doubting it, for I dare hazard My soul upon the tryal.

_Cra._ You may safely,
But are _Agenor_, and _Leonidas_ ready
To rush upon him in the Act, and seize him
In the height of his security?

_Euph._ At all parts as you could wish them.

_Cra._ Where's the Lady?

_Euph._ There
Where you appointed her to stay.

_Cra._ 'Tis wisely order'd.

_Euph._ Last, when you have him sure, compel him this way,
For as by accident here I'll bring the Queen
To meet you, 'twill strike greater terror to him,
To be tane unprovided of excuse,
And make more for our purposes. [_Exit._

_Cra._ Come _Neanthes_, our Fames and all are at the stake.

_Nea._ 'Tis fit that since relying on your skill, we venture
So much upon one game, you play with cunning.

_Enter_ Theanor.

Or we shall rise such losers as--

_Sos._ The Prince.

_Cra._ The plot is laid Sir, howsoe'r I seem'd
A little scrupulous, upon better judgement
I have effected it.

_The._ 'Tis the last service
Of this foul kind I will employ you in.

_Cra._ We hope so Sir.

_The._ And I will so reward it--

_Nea._ You are bound to that; in every Family
That does write lustful, your fine Bawd gains more
(For like your Broker, he takes fees on both sides)
Than all the Officers of the house.

_Sos._ For us then
To be a great mans Panders, and live poor,
That were a double fault.

_Cra._ Come, you lose time Sir,
We will be with you instantly: the deed done,
We have a Mask that you expect not.

_The._ Thou art ever careful: for _Joves Mercury_
I would not change thee. [_Exit._

_Era._ There's an honour for you.

_Nea._ To be compar'd with the celestial Pimp,
_Joves_ smock-sworn Squire, Don _Hermes_.

_Cra._ I'll deserve it,
And Gentlemen be assur'd, though what we do now
Will to the Prince _Theanor_ look like Treason
And base disloyalty, yet the end shall prove,
When he's first taught to know himself, then you,
In what he judg'd us false, we were most true. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Euphanes, Agenor, Leonidas, Conon.

_Euph._ Only make haste (my Lords) in all things else
You are instructed: you may draw your swords
For shew if you think good, but on my life
You will find no resistance in his servants,
And he's himself unarm'd.

_Ag._ I would he were not,
My just rage should not then be lost.

_Euph._ Good Sir,
Have you a care no injury be done
Unto the person of the Prince: but _Conon_,
Have you an eye on both, it is your trust that I relye on.

_Co._ Which I will discharge, assure your self most faithfully.

_Euph._ For the Lady,
I know your best respect will not be wanting:
Then to avoid suspition and discovery,
I hold it requisite, that as soon as ever
The Queen hath seen her, she forsake the place,
And fit her self for that which is projected
For her good, and your honour.

_Leo._ If this prosper, Believe it you have made a purchase of
My service and my life.

_Euph._ Your love I aim at.

_Leo._ Here I shall find you?

_Euph._ With the Queen.

_Co._ Enough Sir.

_Enter_ Page.

_Page._ The Queen enquires for you my Lord, I have met
A dozen Messengers in search of you.

_Enter_ Queen, Ladies, Attendants.

_Euph._ I knew I should be sought for, as I wish'd
She's come her self in person.

_Qu._ Are you found Sir?
I wonder where you spend your hours, methinks
Since I so love your company, and profess
'Tis the best comfort this life yields me; mine
Should not be tedious to you.

_Euph._ Gracious Madam,
To have the happiness to see and hear you,
Which by your bounty is conferr'd upon me,
I hold so great a blessing, that my honours
And wealth compar'd to that, are but as Cyphers
To make that number greater: yet your pardon
For borrowing from my duty so much time
As the provision for my sudden Marriage
Exacted from me.

_Qu._ I perceive this Marriage
Will keep you often from me: but I'll bear it.
She's a good Lady, and a fair, _Euphanes_,
Yet by her leave I will share with her in you:
I am pleas'd that in the night she shall enjoy you
And that's sufficient for a Wife: the day-time
I will divorce you from her.

_Leo. within._ We will force you if you resist.

_Qu._ What noise is that?

_The. within._ Base Traytors.

_Euph._ It moves this way.

_Enter_ Agenor, Leonidas _with_ Theanor, [M]erione
_like_ Beliza, Conon, Crates, Neanthes, Sosicles, Eraton, Guard.

_Qu._ What e'r it be I'll meet it,
I was not born to fear: Who's that _Beliza_?

_Euph._ My worthiest, noblest Mistriss. [_Exit._

_Qu._ Stay her, ha?
All of you look as you were rooted here,
And wanted motion: what new _Gorgons_ head
Have you beheld, that you are all turn'd Statues?
This is prodigious: has none a tongue
To speak the cause?

_Leo._ Could every hair, great Queen
Upon my head yield an articulate sound,
And altogether speak, they could not yet
Express the villany we have discoverd,
And yet, when with a few unwilling words
I have deliver'd what must needs be known,
You'll say I am too eloquent, and wish
I had been born without a tongue.

_Qu._ Speak boldly,
For I, unmov'd with any loss, will hear.

_Leo._ Then know, we have found out the Ravisher
Of my poor Sister, and the place, and means
By which th' unfortunate, though fair _Beliza_
Hath met a second violence.

_Euph._ This confirms what but before I doubted to my ruine.
My Lady ravish'd.

_Qu._ Point me out the villain;
That guilty wretched monster that hath done this,
[T]hat I may look on him, and in mine eye
He [read] his Sentence.

_Leo._ That I truly could
Name any other but the Prince, that heard,
You have it all.

_Qu._ Wonder not that I shake,
The miracle is greater that I live,
Having endur'd the thunder that thy words
Have thrown upon me: dar'st thou kneel, with hope
Of any favor, but a speedy death,
And that too in the dreadful'st shape that can
Appear to a dispair[i]ng leprous soul,
If thou hast any? no, libidinous beast,
Thy lust hath alter'd so thy former Being,
By Heaven I know thee not.

_The._ Although unworthy
Yet still I am your Son.

_Qu._ Thou lyest, lyest falsly,
My whole life never knew but one chaste bed,
Nor e'r desir'd warmth but from lawful fires,
Can I be then the Mother to a Goat,
Whose lust is more insatiate than the grave,
And like infectious air ingenders plagues,
To murder all that's chaste, or good in Woman?
The gods I from my youth have serv'd and fear'd,
Whose holy Temples thou hast made thy Brothels;
Could a Religious Mother then bring forth
So damn'd an Atheist? read but o'r my life,
My actions, manners, and made perfect in them
But look into the story of thy self
As thou art now, not as thou wert _Theanor_,
And reason will compel thee to confess,
Thou art a stranger to me.

_Ag._ Note but how heavy
The weight of guilt is: it so low hath sunk him
That he wants power to rise up in defence
Of [his] bad cause.

_Qu._ Perswade me not _Euphanes_,
This is no Prince, nor can claim part in me:
My Son was born a Free-man, this a Slave
To beastly passions, a Fugitive,
And run away from virtue: bring bonds for him.
By all the honour that I owe to Justice
He loses me for ever that seeks to save him:
Bind him I say, and 'ts like a wretch that knows
He stands condemn'd before he hears the Sentence,
With his base Agents, from my sight remove him,
And lodge them in the Dungeon: As a Queen
And Patroness to Justice I command it:
Thy tears are like unseasonable showrs,
And in my heart now steel'd can make no entrance:
Thou art cruel to thy self (Fool) 'tis not want
In me of soft compassion; when thou left'st
To be a Son, I ceas'd to be a Mother;
Away with them: The children I will leave
To keep my name, to all posterities,
Shall be the great examples of my Justice,
The government of my Countrey which shall witness
How well I rul'd my self: bid the wrong'd Ladies
Appear in Court to morrow, we will hear them;
And by one Act of our severity
For fear of punishment, or love to virtue,
Teach others to be honest: all will shun
To tempt her Laws, that would not spare her Son. [_Ex._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter_ Onos, Uncle, _and_ Tutor.

_Unc._ Nay Nephew.

_Tut._ Pupill, hear but reason.

_On._ No, I have none, and will hear none; oh my honor
My honor blasted in the bud, my youth,
My hopeful youth, and all my expectation
Ever to be a man, are lost for ever.

_Unc._ Why Nephew, we as well as you are dub'd
Knights of the Pantofle.

_Tut._ And are shouted at,
Kick'd, scorn'd, and laugh'd at by each Page and Groom,
Yet with erected heads we bear it.

_Onos._ Alas,
You have years, and strength to do it; but were you
(As I) a tender gristle, apt to bow,
You would like me, with Cloaks envelloped,
Walk thus, then stamp, then stare.

_Unc._ He will run mad
I hope, and then all's mine.

_Tut._ Why look you Pupil,
There are for the recovery of your honor
Degrees of Medicines; for a tweak by the Nose
A man's to travel but six months, then blow it
And all is well again: the Bastinado
Requires a longer time, a year or two,
And then 'tis buried: I grant you have been baffl'd,
'Tis but a journey of some thirty years
And it will be forgotten.

_Onos._ Think you so?

_Tut._ Assuredly.

_Unc._ He may make a shorter cut,
But hang or drown himself, and on my life
'Twill no more trouble him.

_Onos._ I could ne'r endure
Or Hemp or Water, they are dangerous tools
For youth to deal with: I will rather follow
My Tutors counsel.

_Tut._ Do so.

_Onos._ And put in
For my security, that I'll not return
In thirty years, my whole 'state to my Uncle.

_Unc._ That I like well of.

_On._ Still provided Uncle,
That at my coming home you will allow me
To be of age, that I may call to account
This Page that hath abus'd me.

_U[n]c._ 'Tis a match.

_On._ Then _Corinth_, thus the bashful _Lamprias_
Takes leave of thee: and for this little time
Of thirty years, will labour all he can,
Though he goes young forth, to come home a man. [_Ex._

_Scæna Quarta._

_Enter_ Euphanes _and_ Marshal.

_Euph._ Are your Prisoners ready?

_Mar._ When it shall please the Queen
To call them forth my Lord.

_Euph._ Pray you do me the favour
To tell me how they have born themselves this night
Of their imprisonment?

_Mar._ Gladly Sir; your Brother
With the other Courtiers willingly receiv'd
All courtesies I could offer; eat, and drank,
And were exceeding merry, so dissembling
Their guilt, or confident in their innocence,
That I much wondred at it. But the Prince,
That (as born highest) should have grac'd his fall
With greatest courage, is so sunk with sorrow,
That to a common judgement he would seem
To suffer like a Woman: but to me,
That from the experience I have had of many
Look further in him, I do find the deep
Consideration of what's past, more frights him
Than any other punishment.

_Euph._ That is indeed
True magnanimity: the other but
A desperate bastard valour.

_Mar._ I pressed to him,
And notwithstanding the Queens strict command,
(Having your Lordships promise to secure me)
Offer'd to free him from his bonds, which he
Refus'd, with such a sorrow, mixt with scorn
That it amaz'd me; yet I urg'd his Highness
To give one Reason for't: he briefly answer'd,
That he had sate in judgement on himself,
And found that he deserv'd them: that he was
A Ravisher, and so to suffer like one,
Which is the reason of my tears: he addeth,
For wer't not I again should break the Laws,
By scorning all their rigor can inflict,
I should dye smiling.

_Euph._ I forbear to wonder
That you were mov'd that saw this: I am struck
With the relation so. 'Tis very well;
See all things ready. I do wish I could
Send comfort to the Prince; be ready with him;
'Tis in the Queens breast only which for us [_Bar brought in._
To search into were sauciness, to determine
What she thinks fit.

_Enter_ Leonidas _with_ Merione (_in white_) Euphanes _with_ Beliza
(_in black_) Queen, Agenor, Conon, Marshal, _with_ Thea[n]or,
Crates, Sosicles, Eraton, Lords, Ladies, _Guard_.

_Lord._ Make way there for the Queen.

_Quee._ Read first the Law, and what our Ancestors
Have in this case provided to deter
Such like offenders: To you gentle Ladies
This only, Would I could as well give comfort,
As bid [you] be secure from fear or doubt
Of our displeasure: be as confident
As if your plea were 'gainst a common man,
To have all right from us; I will not grieve
For what's not worth my pitty: Read the Law.

Clerk reads.

Lycurgus _the nineteenth against Rapes: It is provided: and_
_pu[b]lickly enacted and confirmed, That any man of what
degree soever, offering violence to the chastity of a Virgin,
shall_ (Ipso facto) _be lyable to her accusation, and according
to the said Law be censured; Ever provided, that it shall
[b]e in the choice of the said Virgin so abused, either to
compell the Offender to marry her without a Dowry, if so she
will be satisfied, or demanding his head for the offence, to
have that accordingly performed._

_Qu._ You hear this: what do you demand?

_Mer._ The benefit
The Law allows me.

_Bel._ For the injury
Done to mine Honor, I require his head.

_Mer._ I likewise have an eye upon mine Honor,
But knowing that his death cannot restore it
I ask him for my Husband.

_Bel._ I was ravish'd,
And will have justice.

_Mer._ I was ravish'd too,
I kneel for mercy.

_Bel._ I demand but what
The Law allows me.

_Mer._ That which I desire
Is by the same Law warranted.

_Bel._ The Rape
On me hath made a forfeit of his life,
Which in revenge of my disgrace I plead for.

_Mer._ The Rape on me gives me the priviledge
To be his Wife, and that is all I sue for.

_Age._ A doubtful case.

_Leo._ Such pretty Lawyers, yet
I never saw nor read of.

_Euph._ May the Queen
Favour your sweet plea, Madam.

_Bel._ Is that justice?
Shall one that is to suffer for a Rape
Be by a Rape defended? Look upon
The publick enemy of chastity,
This lustful Satyr, whose enrag'd desires
The ruine of one wretched Virgins honor
Would not suffice; and shall the wrack of two
Be his protection? May be I was ravish'd
For his lust only, thou for his defence;
O fine evasion! shall with such a slight
Your Justice be deluded? your Laws cheated?
And he that for one fact deserv'd to die,
For sinning often, find impunity?
But that I know thee I would swear thou wert
A false Impostor, and suborn'd to this;
And it may be thou art _Merione_:
For hadst thou suffer'd truly what I have done,
Thou wouldst like me complain, and call for vengeance,
And our wrongs being equal, I alone
Should not desire revenge: But be it so,
If thou prevail, even he will punish it,
And foolish mercy shew'd to him undo thee,
Consider, fool, before it be too late,
What joys thou canst expect from such a Husband,
To whom thy first, and what's more, forc'd embraces,
Which men say heighten pleasure, were distastful.

_Mer._ 'Twas in respect, that then they were unlawful,
Unbless'd by _Hymen_, and left stings behind them,
Which from the marriage-bed are ever banish'd.
Let this Court be then the image of _Joves_ throne,
Upon which grace and mercy still attend,
To intercede between him and his Justice;
And since the Law allows as much to me
As she can challenge, let the milder sentence,
Which best becomes a Mother, and a Queen
Now overcome; nor let your wisdom suffer
In doing right to her, I in my wrong
Indure a second Ravishment.

_Bel._ You can free him
Only from that which does concern your self,
Not from the punishment that's due to me:
Your injuries you may forgive, not mine;
I plead mine own just wreak, which will right both,
Where that which you desire robs me of justice;
'Tis that which I appeal to.

_Mer._ Bloody Woman,
Dost thou desire his punishment? Let him live then;
For any man to marry where he likes not
Is still a lingring torment.

_Bel._ For one Rape
One death's sufficient, that way cannot catch me.

_Mer._ To you I fly then, to your mercy Madam,
Exempting not your Justice, be but equal;
And since in no regard I come behind her,
Let me not so be undervalu'd in
Your Highness favor, that the world take notice
You so preferr'd her, that in her behalf
You kill'd that Son, you would not save for me;
Mercy, O mercy Madam.

_Bel._ Great Queen, justice.

_Age._ With what a Masculine constancy the grave Lady hath
heard them both!

_Leo._ Yet how unmov'd she sits
In that which most concerns her!

_Con._ Now she rises;
And having well weigh'd both their arguments,
Resolves to speak.

_Euph._ And yet again she pauses;
O _Conon_, such a resolution once
A _Roman_ told me he had seen in _Cato_
Before he kill'd himself.

_Qu._ 'Tis now determin'd.
_Merione_, I could wish I were no Queen,
To give you satisfaction; no Mother
_Beliza_, to content you; and would part,
Even with my being, both might have their wishes;
But since that is impossible, in few words
I will deliver what I am resolved on:
The end for which all profitable Laws
Were made, looks two ways only, the reward
Of innocent good men, and the punishment
Of bad Delinquents: Ours, concerning Rapes,
Provided that same latter [clause] of Marriage
For him that had fall'n once, not then foreseeing
Mankind could prove so monstrous, to tread twice
A path so horrid. The great Law-giver
_Draco_, That for his strange severity
Was said to write his stern Decrees in blood,
Made none for Parricides, presuming that
No man could be so wicked; Such might be
_Lycurgus_ answer (did he live) for this.
But since I find that in my [Sonne], which was not
Doubted in any else, I will add to it;
He cannot marry both, but for both dying,
Both have their full revenge: You see _Beliza_
You have your wish; with you _Merione_
I'll spend a tear or two, so Heaven forgive thee.

_The._ Upon my knees I do approve your judgement,
And beg that you would put it into act
With all speed possible; only that I may,
Having already made peace with my self,
Part so with all the world: Princely _Agenor_
I ask your pardon; yours my Lord _Euphanes_;
And _Crates_ with the rest too, I forgive you;
Do you the like for me: Yours, gracio[u]s Mother,
I dare not ask, and yet if that my death
Be like a Son of yours, though my life was not,
Perhaps you may vouchsafe it: Lastly, that
Both these whom I have wrong'd, may wish my ashes
No heavy burden, e'r I suffer death,
For the restoring of _Meriones_ honor,
Let me be married to her, and then dye
For you _Beliza_.

_Qu._ Thou hast made in this
Part of amends to me, and to the world,
Thy suit is granted, call a _Flamyn_ forth
To do this holy work; with him a Headsman.

_Enter_ Flamyn _and Executioner_.

Raise up thy weeping eyes _Merione_,
With this hand I confirm thy Marriage,
Wishing that now the gods would shew some miracle,
That this might not divorce it.

_Cra._ To that purpose
I am their Minister, stand not amaz'd,
To all your comforts I will do this wonder,
Your Majesty (with your pardon I must speak it)
Allow'd once heretofore of such a Contract,
Which you repenting afterwards, revok'd it,
Being fully bent to match her with _Agenor_,
The griev'd Prince knowing this, and yet not daring
To cross what you determin'd, by an oath
Bound me and these his followers to do something
That he might once enjoy her, we swore to it,
And easily perswaded, being assur'd
She was his Wife before the face of Heaven,
Although some ceremonious forms were wanting,
Committed the first Rape, and brought her to him,
Which broke the Marriage; but when we perceiv'd
He purpos'd to abuse our ready service
In the same kind: upon the chaste _Beliza_,
Holding our selves less ty'd to him than goodness;
I made discovery of it to my Brother,
Who can relate the rest.

_Euph._ It is most true.

_Qu._ I would it were:

_Euph._ In every circumstance
It is upon my soul: For this known to me,
I wan _Merione_ in my Ladies habit,
To be again (but willingly) surpriz'd,
But with _Agenor_, and her noble Brother,
With my approv'd friend _Conon_, with such speed
She was pursu'd, that the lewd act scarce ended,
The Prince (assur'd he had enjoy'd _Beliza_,
For all the time _Meriones_ face was cover'd)
Was apprehended and brought to your presence,
But not till now discover'd, in respect
I hop'd the imminent danger of the Prince,
To which his loose unquenched heats had brought him,
Being pursu'd unto the latest tryal
Would work in him compunction, which it has done;
And these two Ladies in their feign'd contentions,
To your delight I hope have serv'd as Maskers
To their own Nuptials.

_Qu._ My choice was worthy
When first I look'd on thee, as thou hast order'd
All shall be done, and not the meanest that
Plaid in this unexpected Comedy,
But shall pertake our bounty: And my Lord,
That with the rest you may seem satisfi'd,
If you dare venture on a Queen, not yet
So far in debt to years, but that she may
Bring you a lusty Boy, I offer up
My self and Kingdom, during my life to you.

_Ag._ It is a blessing which I durst not hope for,
But with all joy receive.

_All._ We all applaud it.

_Qu._ Then on unto the Temple, where the rights
Of Marriage ended, we'll find new delights. [_Exeunt._

_Here endeth the Queen of_ Corinth.

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._
Demetrius, Decius, _Two_ Roman _Commanders_.
Regulus, Drusus, Macer, Curius, _Four_ Roman _Officers_.
Judas, _A Corporal, a merry hungry knave_.
Herald.
Druides.
Soldiers.

_WOMEN._

Bonduca, _Queen of the_ Iceni, _a brave_ Virago, _by_ Prosutagus.
_Her two Daughters._

* * * * *

_The Scene_ Britain.

* * * * *

The Principal Actors were

_Richard Burbadge_,
_Henry Condel_,
_William Eglestone_,
_Nich. Toolie_,
_William Ostler_,
_John Lowin_,
_John Underwood_,
_Richard Robinson_.

_Actus Primus. Scæna 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 _Cæsar_?
Shame, how they flee! _Cæsars_ soft soul dwells in 'em;
Their Mothers got 'em sleeping, Pleasure nurst '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, _Nennius_ scatter'd 'em,
And through their big-bon'd _Germans_, on whose Pikes
The honour of their actions sit in triumph,
Made Themes for Songs to shame 'em, and a Woman,
A Woman beat 'em, _Nennius_; 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 fires; 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 scars 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 watry ruines 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 flight) 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_--

_Bond._ 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 foe 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 flight 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._

_Scæna 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 [do] 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;
[A wronger of my care; your self 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 [soal] 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 eat 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 yo[u] 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 _Hecatom[b]s_ 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-fai[l]ing 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 partisans,
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.

_Sw[e]t._ 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.

_Sw[e]t._ 'Tis true, _Petillius_,
And worthily remembred: the rule's certain,
Their uses no less excellent: but where time
Cuts off occasio[n]s, danger, time and all
Tend to a present peril, 'tis required
Our Swords 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,
I[n] 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. Scæna 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 _B[r]itains_ 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 fling 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 ti'th'em all else.

_Reg._ We'll do our best. [_Exeunt_ Drusius _and_ Regulus.