html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }Fame soon prepar'd her num'rous tongues, and eyes,
To blaze this March (the Worlds industrious spies)
Who, for her Glory, Mighty Deeds proclaime,
Nor is there Humane wonder exceeds fame;
With Men She lives, yet to Mankind unknown;
Though all Her Voices, from his Breath are blown,
Sometimes as loud, as Vulgar Clamors speaks,
As soon from Whispers, busie Rumors makes,
Various in Tongue, as Mankind is in thought,
Whose Secrets to her bold dispose, are brought:
Watches she sets on Kings, and Peoples Deeds;
Nor blushes, when inlarg'd their Acts, she spreads,
Falsehood, and Truth, she mingles in a breath,
And claimes Prerogative o'r Time, and Death:
A mighty Prodigy, her self creates,
And, by her Power, as soon annihilates:
The Worlds Deceiver, and its glory too,
Vertue can Raise, and it depress as low.
Too pronely Evil, whence she beares the name
Of that far-spreading mischief, Men call Fame.
Thus does my Muse, in this her story find
Fames highest Glories, with fates evils joyn'd;
While fate Bonduca's Vertues did oppose,
In Gaule, and Romes success, her mighty Foes
By Warlike Ennius, and Alvatrix led;
Who, round great London, had their Ensignes spread
Whose furious Expedition thither came,
As it surpriz'd, the hasty flight of Fame;
Having Martianus Powers, enforc'd to flight,
As he their Legions over-power'd did fight:
Until his stoutest numbers breathless lye,
T' oppose the Course of this stern Enemy;
And thus through Lanes of dead, had led their pow'rs,
Resolv'd t' assault great London, when nights houres
Should Midnight Count, and to both Poles extend
Her Sable Curtain, whose dark throne attend
Stars, that like Ushers move, to light her way,
While in the East, as if too early day
Had now surpriz'd her; or the Mornings Sphear,
By Phœbus into flames converted were,
In which, he'd rise, to threaten this bold Night;
When there prodigiously apear'd to sight
Vast Armies, moving on the smooth-fac'd-Skye,
Where flaming-Darts did seem from Foes to fly,
And brandisht Spears, against Spears, Fight maintain:
But, What's Heavens Sign? Can Warring Powers restrain?
Or furious Mens Ambition; All things dare,
Who Heaven, too distant think, for them to fear:
Or, that the strong, had right enough to take,
What could not be defended by the weak:
Which mighty evil, Antient Mankind saw,
Before they had acknowledg'd Rule, or Law;
But what the stronger, to the weak would give,
When every Man, to Man, a Foe did live;
Till their Disorder'd Safety did dispose,
Men, to submit to Governments they chose:
Whose Rulers soon taught them, they sought in vain
To curb themselves, and not their power restrain,
Who Nation against Nation could oppose,
Uniting Mankind to be stronger Foes.
Thus Gaul and Rome, this Islands Conquest sought,
Whom now to London their success had brought;
Which, by their Powers, this night must be opprest,
In the most usual hour of Humane Rest:
When, to indulge the dayes preceding care,
The tender Husbands their soft Wives endear;
While Cynthia did her palest Visage weare,
As if the Queen concern'd sh'ad shin'd in fear;
And for her stately City like to be
The saddest Scene of Infelicity:
Nor in great London many eyes had slept,
Till Foes Assaulted, such bold Guards it kept;
And, with a Bloody entrance seiz'd each Port,
As none knew where 'twas safest to resort;
Or, like to Men, whom hideous Dreames awake,
Think all at first, but fancies rude mistake,
And, in Amazement, hurry here and there,
Till nobler Sence does overcome their Fear:
Then, as from Sleep, surprized Trojans rose,
Boldly to Combat their successful Foes;
So here, the Brittains are enrag'd to Fight,
And soon out-doe the Stories of that Night:
What Heart can Judge, or Tongue the rage express,
That they oppose against their Foes success?
Least, all that's dear, be made Romes lustful Prey,
Or Gauls, far more libidinous than they:
Sometimes their Consorts Loves inspire their Armes;
Or else, their Virgin-Daughters beauteous Charms;
The Wonder of the World, and Natures Race!
Which, in their Sex, this Isle does chiefly grace;
Then, with what Armes this hasty time supplies,
They find the thickest of their Enemies:
Where some on naked Breasts their Darts receive;
Others want Arms, that wound for wound might give;
Yet still their num'rous Powers so assail,
As Fortune fears, this Vertue may prevail:
While boldest Troops of Romans now retire,
And Gauls, had well-nigh spent their onset Fire:
But, as the Sea, that rallies Wave on Wave,
Till, through some noble Fence, its Billows rave,
And then insults, upon some glorious Plain,
Next made the Conquest of the dreadful Main;
Thus are the Brittains, overwhelm'd with power,
In this so boyst'rous, and surprizing houre;
While, now of Fortune, all they seem'd to crave,
Is, that their Armes, their beaut'ous Queen may save:
To whose reliefe, the worthi'st lead the rest,
Before her Guards, by num'rous Foes opprest;
Which, to effect, convenient stations take,
Resolv'd, their Bodies shall her Bulwarks make:
Highly, did Ennius his fierce Powers Conjure,
To make their furious On-sets more secure;
Letting them know, how they'l oblige Great Rome
To see this City, and her Queen o'rcome:
While, with his Gaules, Alvatrix does Conspire
To act Hostilities by Rage, and Fire;
Hoping, these terrors will Bonduca shake,
Or, else by force, her long'd enjoyment take:
What hearts but Brittains, thus assail'd by Foes,
Could them, and such extremities, oppose?
Who scorn'd, all these their Valour should defeat,
Daring, in 'midst of Flames their Foes to meet:
And, in the dismal Ruines of this Flame,
Speaks antient hate, of Gauls, to Brittains Name:
Whose more Heroick Manners, did deride
The Formes, and Dress, of their Effeminate Pride.
And now, the Queen, from her Pavilion rose,
Allarum'd, by these dreadful Acts of Foes;
And, with a deep Concern, does hear the Cries
Of her lamented Subjects miseries:
Like some distrustful Shepheard, that does view
A Troop of Wolves, his harmless Flock pursue;
And, their distressed Lives cannot relieve,
Except some more than Mortal aid it give:
To Heaven her Prayers devoutly does address,
Imploring Stars to frown on their success;
Hoping, they hold no Councel to destroy
This City, Peopled from Renowned Troy:
But, if it must, (like that) to Ashes turne,
Then She does beg, it may be made her Urn;
And, not in her, the Blood of Brute inthral,
To guild the Triumphs of proud Rome, or Gaul:
And next reflects on Natures fonder care,
Which made her thus Illustrious, Great, and Fair,
Wishing, She saw with far less beaming eyes,
Than did Alvatrix fatally surprise:
Or, that her Cheeks did in pale furrows lie,
Which stain'd the Glories of the Evening-Skie,
Least this great City more unhappy be,
From the bright Charmes of her Sov'raignity:
Thus she laments; and what is her despair,
Since, now to live, is made her saddest fear;
Discerning well Alvatrix raging will:
Nor knows she how far Ennius may act ill,
Who, covertly Bonduca did decree
The Prize, and Garland, of his Victory;
But from Alvatrix artfully does hide,
(The mock he means, to all his rage, and pride;)
And thus cajoles him; Thou Great Prince of Gauls!
Yet, more than Monarch, since Romes power, thee calls
Her honour'd Armes associate, to subdue
Brittain with her, and more, Bonduca too:
Whose tender heart, will force her to resign,
All that thy burning wishes can design,
If but now challeng'd: while, our Armes we see
Thus ready, to compleat bold Victory;
Though, it must lessen Cleopatra's fame,
While Rome dates triumph from this Womans Name;
Whose beauties, had but great Augustus seen,
His mighty Soul had with thee Captive been.
To which Alvatrix eagerly consents,
In hopes to Crown his furious Loves Intents:
Like some fierce Beast, that does his Rage allay,
With expectation of his long'd-for Prey:
And thus, a Summons to Bonduca speed,
That now was mounted on her graceful Steed,
And with her Glorious Presence vigor Charmes
Into her fainting Brittains Hearts and Armes;
Who, from her Eyes, no Mournful drops must see,
That but now stream'd, for their Calamity:
Like beaming Morn, that had dispell'd Nights tears,
Her injur'd brightness with more lustre wears;
Then, a bold Herauld from great Ennius comes,
Whose dreadful Badge declar'd him to be Romes:
And, to the Queens bright Presence had access,
Who, in these tearms, his Message does express;
Great Queen of Brittain! Know, that I am come
To bid thee yield, unto the Power of Rome;
Least, this Fam'd City, by a Raging Flame
Consume to Ashes, with thy ruin'd Name:
While Pity makes Great Ennius so far thine,
As he could wish, he might his Armes decline;
And, by a gentle Truce, soon make thee know,
Thou yield'st, to Conquer such a Mighty Foe;
Who does, that value for thy Vertue, own,
That his success, he'd with Loves Triumph Crown.
This he delivers; while, a brave disdain
Adds to Bonduca's Cheeks, a Noble stain;
As Virgin-Honor kindles at the Name
Of some unwelcome and inglorious Flame,
And to this bold Demand, makes this return;
Rather, let me, and this Lov'd-City burn;
And, like another Carthage, fall to dust,
If, by Romes Power, Heaven has decreed it must:
Than e'r Bonduca, so degenerate prove,
As fear, shall fright her Soul, to welcome Love:
If, that the Consul, covertly intends,
Or fierce Alvatrix, with his rage contends;
But whensoe'r my Nuptials I bestow,
I'l not Court Rome, to take a Husband-foe:
Or, by that tye, unite my self to Gaul,
Whose antient hate would Brittain more inthral:
What, though this fury does assault me now?
Yet, your great Master, may have more to do;
While Arthur's Son, and Vortiger, remain ;
Whose Armes unconquer'd, Brittain will maintain.
And thus this Herauld back again is sent,
From whom, first Ennius sounds the Queens intent;
And then, unto Alvatrix, loud does Cry,
This Woman's worth our Arms, and Victory:
That has a Soul, which Fortune dares Contemn,
And, in a Brittain, does a Roman seem:
Admire thou then the wonders of her Face!
I'l give her worth, within my Heart, a place.
But, e'r we Cool, let us again fall on,
That Rome may triumph, for this City won:
And, fair Bonduca, which, will add to fame
A Story lasting, as our Cæsars Name.
This Speech Alvatrix highly did inflame,
To finish Conquest, and his Loves bold Claime;
Whose Soul, each word Bonduca nam'd, had fir'd:
Not deeming, Love, the Consuls heart Inspir'd
With its soft Passion; whil'st they now renew
Their fierce assaults, this City to subdue;
And, angry fortune, had their way, far wrought,
Where Brittains, for their Queen, ev'n hopeless, fought:
Who, with a deep Concern, had soon beheld,
How Rage, and Blood, her Subjects Arms compell'd:
While she, her presence guides, where Darts most fly;
In hope, some one will swiftly bid her dye:
Though asking Heav'n Pardon, if now, she dares
Above her blushing Sexes, gentle fears;
That else, she apprehends may stubborn prove,
And yield her up, a Prey, to hated Love.
But Providence, that swayes the course of things,
Unlook'd-for-succour, to Bonduca brings:
Which, Vortiger and Albianus speed;
By bold Favonius, at this fatal Need:
Swift as Numidian Horse, these Troops had run,
To aid the Queen, and London almost won:
And, with their bloody toyls, had forc'd a way,
Where Gauls, and Romans, heap'd in dust now lay;
Recruiting thus, her Citties drooping force,
Like to some Bay, that stayes the Ocean's course,
While Waves, against it, with vain fury beat,
And, as they rage, their swelling power defeat:
Meanwhile, Favonius to the Queen appeares,
Who, like a Dewy Flower, had bath'd in tears,
Letting her know, the Princes soon will come
With potent force, to fight the Powers of Rome;
Whom she then graces, with her Royal hand,
Granting her safety, does obliged stand
To his great Conduct; that could thus relieve
Her fainting Arms, and City succors give:
Who, since Martianus was inforc'd to fly
Despair'd, that Armes could check Romes Victory;
That with such rage against her did conspire,
As London, soon had made but one great Fire;
And for the Princes, gently does express;
She can't but fear, their vertues great excess
May henceforth claime a gratitude so high,
That (but in will) she must ingrateful dye.