html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }And now, this Night that frown'd too long on day,
Sun Morning-beams usher the Suns bright way,
Who blush'd, to see how bold her houres had been,
T'afflict so fair, and virtuous a Queen:
But more than grievous, did appear this Night
Unto the Princes, that her Cause must Fight;
Who, thought each minute of their March, too slow;
As if that time had onely loyter'd now;
And thus, with fam'd Celerity, they drew
Their Arms, where London's Towers salute their view,
Plac'd full of eyes, that greedily descry
This welcome Terror to the Enemy;
Nor did e'r City with more Merit Claime
Eternal Records, from the Tongue of Fame;
Than this, which, had unshaken stood extreams
Of Romes, and Gauls, conspiring force, and flames:
Which speaks, the brave Allegeance of those times;
Unpractic'd, in our late Rebellious Crimes:
While Power, nor Faction, could Division sow,
But gladly Brittains fight, their Countreys Foe.
And thus resolv'd, the Princes Powers Campaign,
Where London did denominate a Plain,
That bore the marks of dreadful Battels fought,
Since first, proud Rome, this Isles great Conquest sought.
Here, under heaps of Earth, did Heroes lie;
(The braver Foes, or Friends of Brittany)
Whose memories want now Records from Fame,
To shew, Death can obscure the greatest Name:
And tells, how vainly Humane Powers contend,
That can inherit nothing, but their end:
Proving Deaths Scepter juster than our life,
Since, it divided Mortals, keeps from strife:
Nor, did the Earths vast surface ever bear
Worthies like these, or Pow'rs, more fam'd in War;
Whose shining fronts the generous Brittains fill'd
Captain'd by Nobles, in Wars Conduct skill'd,
By these, embody'd, burnisht Chariots, stand,
With dext'rous Guides, who their swift force Command,
And, as these glorious Chiefs, do each array;
Phœbus thinks his less bright, that rules the day.
Then, thus to Vortiger, Albianus speaks;
Before our Battel further progress makes,
Let's well the Conduct of our Armes Consult,
And next, proceed to act its brave Result.
To whom, replies Couragious Vortiger,
Since we, (Great Prince) must for Bonduca War,
'Twere sin, to spend a minute more in words,
But what may add a vigour to our Swords:
Then, on a rising place, the Princes stand;
Inviron'd, by the Chiefs of their Command,
Attentive, leaning each upon his Spear,
Which shews, how great those Antient Counsels were:
With these, the Princes severally debate,
How best their Armes may serve the Brittain-State;
And, (what's more dear) th' afflicted Queen supply,
At once, with wish'd relief, and victory.
But, as they thus Consult, the Aire they view
Obscur'd with Clouds of Dust, which mounted, shew
Like Lybia's Sands, windes toss unto the sky;
Or, as there moving Armies Men descry,
When their fierce motions raise the fleeting Mold,
And day seemes ended, e'r they night behold:
Thus, here, through Clouds of Smoake, does break the sound
Of moving Armes, which, ecchoe from the ground
Their mighty hast; Nor do the Princes know,
Whether this swift approach did speak a Foe:
Until their trusty Scouts did them declare
Brittains, that did with Martianus War:
Who, to the Princes moves, before the rest,
Though now his Visage scarce himself exprest;
His aged face and hairs, disguis'd with blood,
Whose Valour had so bravely Foes withstood;
That fame, for ever must his worth display,
Surviving with this glory a Lost-day.
No sooner he salutes the Princes fights,
But, each, with him, streight from his Steed alights,
And with their hasty steps embraces give;
Rejoyc'd, to see him unexpected live:
To whom, (with due obeysance) he replies;
Fam'd Princes! What are now our destinies?
Since froward fate does thus our Armes oppose,
To gratifie our proud insulting Foes:
Happy had I been, if by Roman power
I'd dy'd, in my youths warmest heat, and flower;
When, under your great Fathers, first, I knew
To weild bright Arms, and Wars great Deeds pursue;
Then in my age, the Mock of Ennius be,
Whom, I in Kent besieg'd successfully;
Or, (What's more grievous) see, Alvatrix boast,
His fencing Gauls, o'recame a Brittish Hoast:
Though, while I these did for Bonduca War,
Hop'd with my Conduct, a propitious Star,
And not her Banners thus successless lead,
Beholding Romes before her City spread;
But, e'r they yet shall perfect their success,
Admit this utmost duty Ile[errata 1] express;
First, to attempt her Aid, through all extreames,
Or dye her Sacrifice, in London's Flames:
This, having said with a Pathetick Grace,
A stream of Tears falls down his Aged Face;
Who, (but in Honors Cause) permits these tears,
More than a Lover loves, his Soul endeares;
Then, Albianus this fam'd Captain takes
To his embrace, and thus obliging speaks,
Thou, Father of our Armes! and more than all,
Honor does most renown'd in Mortals call:
Repine not; 'tis thy glorious fate, to be
With Fortune, thus at virtuous enmity:
Or think, past Trophies, thou from Rome hast got,
While, Brittain bears a name, can be forgot.
My Warlike Sire, (Great Arthur) ost did name
Martianus, with his Chiefes of Noblest same;
Telling, what acts, were by thy valour done
In all those famous Battels he had won;
And, to his Son, thou shalt be still as dear
While I thy Counsels, and thy Dangers share;
Hoping to see thy Armes, Romes, yet subdue;
And, to thy aged Garlands, add more new:
Till then repine not, thou hast lost a Field,
Alass! thou didst, but to more numbers yield;
Which, Great Bonduca will her self confess,
Charging fate onely, with thy ill success:
While, for her sake, our force shall soon contend,
Who did with aid, Favonius, to her send:
By whose great Prowess, Rome, and Gaul, declin'd
Their dreadful Onsets, against London joyn'd,
And more, a Comfort in thy Heart impress,
That, these must fight us now, or yield success
Unto our Armes; which, in Bonduca's Cause
Must out-doe wonder, and to Rome give Lawes.
No less (Martianus) Vortiger endears,
Calling his Conduct, Soul of Brittish Wars;
And next, recounts those mighty deeds h'ad done,
When, late from Scots, and Picts, they Battels won.
Then, Martianus, (with this grace o'rcome)
Feeles noble Passion, gives his speech no room,
But to express, a glorious wish to dye,
If his life may promote their victory.
And now the Princes view his harrass'd force,
Which, had through roughest dangers fought their course;
His stately Ensignes with fierce Arrowes tore,
As scarce a mark remain'd of what they bore:
Then, in their Battel, these embody'd are,
Where, their great Chief, a high Command does bear;
Resolv'd, their Valours shall set London free,
With its fair Queen, from Roman Tyranny.
Soon had the wary Ennius perceiv'd
This City, by Favonius was releiv'd;
And, that thus near, the Princes Battels drew,
Highly resolv'd, to assail their Powers too:
He therefore, swiftly had his Army drawn
By dreadful Bodies, in this spacious Lawn,
The Brittain Forces for their Station took.
And thus, with furious eyes, on each now look,
Glad were the Brittish Heroes, to perceive
The time was come, their Foes would Battel give;
Whose Valours, did occasion so embrace,
As if their Souls were wing'd, in Honors Race;
While thus, to Royal Vortiger, does speak
Great Albianus; May we happy make
This day (Lov'd Prince) in which we see Romes power
Spread their Battallions here, this welcome hour,
That Courts our Armes, such Honor to atcheive;
As may this antient City now relieve;
If, Heaven to Brittain, glory, does decree;
We shall Bonduca aid successfully,
And teach her foes, the Guilt of their bold sin,
Who thought their force enough, her soul to win:
How has her virtues, these unshaken stood?
When Ennius, forc'd his way by Flames, and Blood;
And fierce Alvatrix, did that dread improve,
Threatning, to Crown by force, his burning love:
But, e'r that Gaul shall boast so fair a Prize,
Let us resolve, to fall her Sacrifice;
And dye this Plain with Blood, if that can be
A meritorious cause of Victory:
Then sprightly Vortiger, at this, darts beams
That spoke the vigour, of his Martial Flames,
Which, at Bonduca's Name, his breast inspires,
As lightning, breakes from Clouds, imbosom'd fires:
And thus, to Albianus does express,
I'l welcome Death, if fate denyes success;
Nor, shall my Soul, be in this Body borne
A living Witness, and this Island mourn:
This day if lost, 'tis just that Princes fall;
When their sad Countrey, keeps its funeral:
Nor shall Bonduca's vertues e'r reprove
My valour, to want merit for her Love;
Since in her cause, if I make Death my own,
My end, shall then add Glory to my Throne:
Then Arthur's Son a Supreme station takes,
Whence, to his Militants and Cheifs, thus speaks;
Fellows in Armes, the wish'd for time is come,
To end, this Islands long-made-War with Rome;
And, needless 'twere, to tell you of the cause,
Since Rome, and Gaul, by th'Sword would give us laws:
Or thence infer, how your rich Countrey, may
With Wives, and Daughters, soon become their prey:
This were, from fear, to bid you now to fight,
When, Native Valour does enough excite
Our Brittish blood, which, though 'tis bred so near
The Northern Pole, was ne'r yet chill'd by fear.
Let Romans then, their Oratories spend
To raise their duller Legions, to contend.
Enough, we see the Foes, that we must fight;
And not from words, our hearts to Armes invite;
At this, loud shouts of Joy do fill the Plain,
Which shake the Earth, where Roman Powers Campain,
The usual Custom of this Martial-Isle,
When they embrace, Wars most renowned toyl.
No less, the Consul Ennius does take care
To make this day, the Glory of his War;
His force, with Romes best Conduct, now array'd;
That oft, had Monarchs, their great Captives made,
Then in Magnan'mous words (the use of Rome
T'incite their Militants to overcome)
He thus begins, Lov'd Souldiers! if that we
Deserve by arms the worlds Sov'raignity,
Since, our Renowned City Deify'd
Her Scepter'd Romulus, for deeds atchiev'd
By glorious Arms, whose Capitol yet stands
Fill'd with our Trophies, won from Conquer'd Lands,
Where Mars is Templ'd, with his fellow Gods,
Pleas'd, to convert our Swords, into their Rods,
And next to their Divinity, allow
The Earths Dominion, to our vertue, due:
Let not this day then, our fam'd power beguile,
That oft has harrass'd this so potent Isle,
Though Nature, joyn'd with Mighty Neptunes hand,
To sever't from the world, (Romes wide Command)
Yet, could not our Renowned Julius stay,
Who, sought ont Conquest, wheresoe'r it lay;
And by our prowess, ages since maintain'd
The Noble Relicks, here, his valour gain'd:
We have the Legions still, from him were nam'd,
The Tenth most lov'd, with all the rest as fam'd,
They were but Romans then, as we are now,
If we their virtues but inherit too,
How will the world, our warlike Eagles dread?
If still this Isle remains unconquered,
When to our shames it shall recorded be,
One dayes Pharsalia, forc'd Romes liberty,
Nor are their Conducts, worthy of our fears,
Though Albianus joyns with Vortigers,
Infants in Arms, while I their Fathers fought,
And thence great triumphs, to our Empire brought,
You saw to us, Martianus Powers gave way,
Think that a sign, of a more signal day,
Since he, the aged Captain of their Hoast,
Has prov'd how dear our Conflicts with him cost,
While London, that our fierce assaults withstood,
Will then be yours, without expence of blood,
And, with its riches, pay your Martial toyls,
Yielding their matchless Queen, to grace our spoyls.
Thus speaks great Ennius, while the Prince of Gaul,
Does on his Chiefs, with furious vigour call,
Letting them know, what honor will accrue
To Rome, and Gaul, if Britains they subdue,
And that the Cause their hearts may more excite,
Tells them Revenge, and Love, do bid[errata 2] him fight,
Whence, fond Bonduca, shall repent disdain,
If by their Armes, they Conquest this day gain.
Nor did the ill, of their Intentions, fright
These from imploring heav'n, to ayd their might;
Whose ear the ambitious by design abuse,
And call that Providence, which first they chuse,
Thus superstitious hopes their Priests express,
Who (from above unlicens'd) speak success,
Which proves how bold with heaven such dare to be,
That for their ends will arm Divinity;
Loud had the Gauls their Clamours upwards sent,
While soothsaying Romans, had their eyes intent
On Ravens, Vultures, and such birds of prey,
As follow Armies, for a bloody day;
One sees an Eagle stoop, that soar'd as high,
As the expanded airy Regions lie,
Seeming to Court his figure, which was spread
In that rich Ensign, by the Consul led,
This their Diviners, soon conclude must be
A happy Omen of their victory:
As Nature, oft from things of meanest sence,
Confounds mans vainer search of Providence;
And thus encourag'd, think each minute slow,
Untill they fight their warlike British foe;
Whose fierce Battalion, Romes confronting stands,
Resolv'd to act, their mighty Chiefs Commands.