Then vanish from her sight perhaps for ever;
When these reflections rise, the sweet exchange
From bonds to freedom, which to her I owe,
Is mix'd with bitterness, and joy subsides.

Enob. Why didst thou leave the fair Italian fields, Thou silken slave of Venus? What could move Thee to explore these boist'rous northern climes, And change yon radiant sky for Britain's clouds? What dost thou here, effeminate? By Heav'n, Thou shouldst have loiter'd in Campania's villas, And in thy garden nurs'd, with careful hands, The gaudy-vested progeny of Flora ; Or indolently pac'd the pebbled shore, And ey'd the beating of the Tuscan wave

To waste thy irksome leisure.

Wilt thou tell me,

What thou dost here in Britain? Dost thou come

To sigh and pine? Could Italy afford

No food for these weak passions? Must thou traverse
Such tracts of land, and visit this cold region

To love and languish ? Answer me, what motive
First brought thee hither? But forbear to urge
It was in quest of honour; for the god
Of war disclaims thee.

Flam. Well, suppose I answer,

That friendship drew me from the golden Tiber,
With thee to combat this inclement sky,

Will it offend thee?

Enob. No, I am thy friend,

And I will make a Roman of thee still;

But let me see no languishing dejection

More on thy brow, nor hear unmanly sighs.

Gods! canst thou dream of love, when yonder see,
The Roman legions, all array'd for battle,

Are now descending; see their dreaded eagles,
Their dazzling helmets, and their crimson plumes :
A grove of jav'lins glitters down the steep;
They point their terrors on th' astonish'd foe;
Soon will they charge the Britons in the vale,
And with the auspicious glories of this day
Enrich the annals of imperial Rome.

O curst captivity! with double weight
I feel thee now ! malicious fate! to suffer
A Roman thus to stand confin'd in bondage,
And see the triumphs, which he cannot share.
By Heav'n, Flaminius! I will never bear it.
Where is thy Briton? Will she lead us hence ?
Else, by the god of war, unarm'd I rush
To join the glorious scene, which opens there.
Flam. I see her coming, and will fly to meet her.
[Exit.
Enob. Our time is short, remember, do not dally.
"I have a thought, lies rip'ning in my breast,
"And teems with future glory; if the fight
"Prove undecisive, and these tents subsist,"
Soon will I bid thee, hostile camp, farewell.
Thou saw'st me come in thraldom; I depart
A fugitive if ever I return,

Thou shalt receive me in another guise;

Then shalt thou feel me; when my shining helm Shall strike cold terror through thy boldest guards, And from its lofty crest destruction shake. [Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Enter FLAMINIUS, and ENOBARBUS.

Flaminius.

OUR lovely guide attends us. Thy impatience
Hath call'd me loit'rer.

Ænob. Thou mayʼst loiter still.

Thou canst not hasten, nor retard our fate,
Which is irrevocably fix'd.

Flam. What say'st thou ?

Enob. I say, prepare to die. If Boadicea
Return once more, our destiny is fix'd.
Whate'er her merciless revenge may purpose,
Elate with conquest, or incens'd by loss,
If on the rack to strain our bursting sinews,
If from the bleeding trunks to lop our limbs,
Or with slow fires protract the hours of pain,
We must abide it all. Collect thy spirit,
And, like a Roman, dauntless wait thy doom.
Flam. I hear thee, but thy meaning-
Enob. Hear again :

Before the tent some paces as I stood,
And joyful saw the Trinobantian guard,
Of us neglectful, from this quarter drawn

To view the impending battle; on a sudden

A curs'd Icenian cast his jealous eye

Athwart my steps, then call'd a num'rous band,
Who prowl around us, as a destin'd prey.

Flam. Malicious fortune!

Enob. Now thou seest my meaning.

Flam. Our flight were vain, while these observe us.

Enob. True.

What has thy tame submission now avail'd,
Thy abject supplication to barbarians?

Hadst thou with courage met thy fate at first,
We had been dead, ere now.

Flam. To view the sun

till even,

Through his gay progress from the morn,
Possess my friends, my parents, and my love,
Within the circle of my native walls,

Were joys I deem'd well worthy of my care;
But since that care is fruitless, I can leave
This light, my friends, my parents, love, and country,
As little daunted at my fate as thou,

Though not so unconcern'd.

Enob. Oh, Mars and Vesta !

Is it a vision, which you raise before me

To charm my eyes? Behold a scene, Flaminius,
To cheer a Roman in the gasp of death.
The Britons are defeated; look, Flaminius,
Back from the vale in wild tumultuous flight
Behold their numbers sweeping tow`rd the hill:
Already some are swarming up its side

To reach their camp for shelter; pale dismay

With hostile rage pursues their broken rear,
While massacre, unchidden, cloys his famine,
And quaffs the blood of nations. Oh, in vain
Dost thou oppose thy bosom to the tide
Of war, and brandish that recover'd standard;
"Vain is thy animating voice to those,

"Whom fear makes deaf;" Oh, Dumnorix, thy toils Are fruitless, Britain in the scale of fate

Yields to the weight of Rome. Now, life, farewell: "Shine on, bright Phœbus; those who rest behind "To share thy splendors, while I sink in darkness, "Are far beneath my envy ;" I resign

These eyes with pleasure to eternal shades,
They now have seen enough.

Flam. Whence this despair?

A blind confusion fills the spacious camp.
Already consternation hath dispers'd

Our guard. Ev'n Dumnorix retires-He comes;
Avoid him-Trust me, I am well instructed,

And will conduct thee to a safe retreat.

Enter DUMNORIX with a standard.

[Excunt.

Dum. Thou hard-kept remnant of our shatter'd fortune,

Stand there before the partial eye of Heav'n,
Which has preferr'd the Romans' splendid altars,
To the plain virtue of a British heart.

Presumptuous frenzy! Why is Heav'n reproach'd?
Oh, Boadicea, thou perfidious mischief!

Ꭰ