html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }Now Fate, that waited on this Bloody Day,
Sees cloudy night, new tragick Scenes display;
Whose fierce confusions ev'n my Muse affright,
That like some Virgin, fears sad Tales of night.
Such dreadful dangers, we may well suppose,
Befel her much-lov'd Britains from their Foes;
Who beaten thus, unconquer'd seem to flie,
And deaths return, as they retreating dye.
While Stars in haste their several stations take,
And in their Sphæres new Trepidations make;
Fearing removes for every Heroes fall,
And thus disorder'd, their bright Councils call:
The wandring Glories to the Ecliptick run,
There to advise, without their Lord the Sun;
In whose bright stead, refulgent Mars does shine.
His Rayes inthron'd, on heavens Meridian line,
Who thus begins, To me, you Planets know,
Belongs the fate of Martial Powers below;
Nor will our Soveraign Light his beams convey,
In Wars Decrees, but lets my influence sway.
Not though the world is quickned by his rayes.
And time supported in its aged dayes;
Whence Mortals live, and tell their happy hours,
But own their greater Glories from my Powers.
Nor do those Regions Phæbus Tracts confine,
Betwixt the Tropicks, and more burning Line;
Heroes produce, to execute my flame,
So oft, as where rough Boreas sounds his Name.
Of these my Aspects have fierce Romans fam'd,
Who but this Isle, the warring World have tam'd;
Giving their Stories leave to boast, that I
Begot their first Heroick Majesty:
And shall to these now British Armes give Law,
Or, I, (their God ador'd,) my beams withdraw;
And not assist their Conduct, while I see
Their brave Retreat deserves yet victory.
This said, the rest their brighter sense convey
From orb, to orb, by mingling each a ray;
Which Venus craves, she may to Mars express,
And thus begins to him her soft Address.
Great Star of Glory, if my Gentler shine,
Or those lov'd Aspects I have had with thine,
Oblige thy influence, let it befriend
These British Worthies, with Great Romes contend.
Nor can it be, but glory to thy Name,
To crown success, where virtue makes such claim;
And let not Mortals think they merit more,
Than we repay, or justly they implore.
Enough have Romans a bold havock made,
Five bloody Ages, since they did invade
This Isle, where Nature breeds such souls for warr,
And women, that our lusters may compare,
For whose fair sakes, behold I often sought,
With trembling beams to thee, as these still fought;
While Cynthia did, (as now) her visage shrowd,
And but by Peeps, beheld thee from a cloud.
Vowing by her best influence, that she
In no Eclipse, felt such extremity;
As when she late beheld Bonduca's woe,
For which she wears some spots unseen till now.
This said, Great Mars salutes her with a beame,
And thus replies, Thou Star of Loves soft flame,
Think not thy Intercession I'll despise,
Who art the brightest Glory of our skies;
A higher Providence than our Decrees,
Has hitherto led Roman Victories;
I know full well our Aspects but incline,
Though of great Natures Causes, most divine.
Nor shall my Rayes to Britains partial prove,
Whose valour equal with thy Beams I love;
To Gemini my Orb shall wander now,
Thy lov'd Ascendant, and this Islands too.
This done, the rest to happy Aspects glyde,
By Tracts, till this stupendous night untry'd,
While Venus does her soft Conjunction joyn,
With Mars his Sphære, to court his gentle shine.
Oft had the Romans with enraged sense,
Invok'd Heav'ns more auspicious influence;
Wondring that it should lend a glimmering eye,
T'inlighten Britains, while their Powers do fly.
Then does fierce Ennius bid his Soothsayers waite;
What they can gather from decrees of Fate;
Or where no ominous Raven croaks this night,
That Romans now, their bold Retreatings fight.
His Brandisht Spear then upward does extend,
Whence great refulgent Mars his beams does send;
Asking whe'r hee'l a shining witness be,
Whilst British to Arms[errata 1] force Roman Pow'rs to flye?
Or if bright Venus shall oblige thy Beams,
Acquaint her, that I yield to Loves soft flames;
And though I Britains fight, Bonduca love,
If that her kinder influence may improve.
Now had Alvatrix rally'd from their flight,
Great Troups of Gauls, to ayd the Consuls fight;
Who now would seem to banish their swift fear,
And with new eager fury Britains dare.
Hoping the days past toyls would faint their Powers,
Or fate oppose them, with nights dismal hours;
Thus does this Chief inflame their hearts and arms,
Not judging Ennius felt Bonduca's charms:
Or as his Rival now, fights Loves cause more,
Than to triumph for Romes victorious Power.
Though from this Gaul he subt'ly does conceal,
What time, or prosp'rous leasure best reveal.
Closely their foes pursu'd had Britains fought,
As their retreats to bloody halts are brought;
While Romes great Chief by bold degrees does fly,
Leaving the Earth behind a crimson die.
Whose ripen'd Harvest with rude hoofs they tread,
That Ceres mourns, the blessings she had bred;
And thinks that Nature vainly does provide,
To nourish men so full of hostile pride.
Or that the world, so largely by her blest,
Should not have room for humane Pow'rs to rest;
Who like the foes of Nature, still must be
Contending, to usurp her Monarchy.
Thus Heav'n incens'd, does cloud this dreadful night;
While Stars, (as dimmer Tapers,) lend their light;
Whence fierce Confusions to each side accrue,
And as they seek out Foes, their friends pursue
The British Ensignes, mixt with Romans stay,
And thus in bloody Mingles both sides slay;
Experienc'd Chiefs, not knowing where to guide,
While ev'n their ranks their fighting foes divide.
Each generous Steed, that did undaunted bear
His Heroes burthen, tramples now in fear;
Lest on some Masters friend, his steps should tread,
And thus by wary snorts discern the dead.
While some, that had their valiant burthens lost,
Charge wild revenges on each mighty Hoast;
Whose nimble Fury does the wind out-flye,
And where Spears thickest range, Assailants dye.
Others (from noble sense, that Nature gives
This Creature, which for Man so usefull lives;)
Find out their Owners Corps, and lick them o're,
In hope their balmy breaths may life restore.
Wishing their burthens they might bear again,
And in their eager mouths rejoyce their Rain,
That foes might death receive from their bold Seates
And thus their mournful sense laments their fates.
No less disorder'd, from these dark mistakes,
Each British Chariot dreadful conduct makes;
Whose Guides to unknown Tracts commit their way,
As Pilots steer an unacquainted sea.
While these, like vessels furious winds annoy,
With boistrous meetings do themselves destroy;
And tackl'd thus to one another, glide,
Till their rough speed does rent them side from side.
Some from their warlike seats their guides hurle down,
And thus to many fatal ends are known;
While others their bold fury to restrain,
Are drag'd to deaths, as they still grasp their rain,
More to encrease the terrors of this night,
The British Princes had pursu'd the fight,
So bravely home, as many in their Hoast,
Conclude them, in these clouds of danger lost.
Yet in these perils, such wise conduct show,
As thence their foes receive their greatest blow;
While Albianus Armes, bravely relieve,
Undaunted on-sets Vortigers do give.
Nor do these toyls their pretious bodies bear,
Detain the Expedition of their care;
Who think it sin, a bleeding wound to stay,
Until by victory they win delay.
Esteeming blood, (where life it self does stream,)
Too cool a vent, for warrs high feavers flame;
Which man must spend, as Natures noblest Purge,
When Honour, (the Souls Crisis,) does it urge.
Sometimes, their Steeds declin'd) on foot they lead,
To make their Foes the Infantry more dread;
As soon the Cavalry with ayd supply,
Or else with these to them in succours fly.
Thus dismal errors they repair of night,
Heading their Britains with successful fight;
While now they seem to want no other star,
Since these Illustrious Guides their Conducts are.
But Albianus, that with grief had weigh'd,
How nights mistakes, the dayes past conquest stay'd;
Although the Britains, with couragious toyls,
Ravisht from Fortune her unwilling smiles:
Like some great Chief, that would his conduct make,
Above what it, or daring Foes can shake;
With warlike Vortiger consults the State
Of their success, and Romes approaching fate.
From whom the British Chiefs Commands receive,
Which their bold onsets a wise respite give;
Whose Bodies rally'd, they embattail'd stand,
To force the glory of their joynt Command.
Mean while, the wary Consul led his Flight
In scatter'd Bodies, aided by the night;
Whose cloudy vail does expedite their way,
Imploring Phæbus to hold back the day;
Lest British Powers should now behold they fly,
And not like Romans, boldly stand, and dye;
Which Vann of fear, the wav'ring Gauls now lead,
As Wolves, their fury spent, to covert speed,
Oft had Great Ennius's undaunted Soul,
Try'd how his valour might their fears controul;
Wishing that he could look his Forces dead,
Who palely yield, to quit their warlike head.
Revolving next, How he for love had fought,
And in Bonduca Roman glory sought;
Charging injustice on his Fate to doom
His Arms defeat, and not his Love o'recome.
While by an open voice, and impious flame,
Alvatrix curses Stars, and Heaven's great Name;
Wishing that they might ne'r more glory own,
But as close Mourners to the world be shown;
That yield no Beam, which does success bestow,
Rendring Bonduca's Conquest hopeless too:
Whom, (as a Prize of War,) he hop'd to win,
And make his Sword, the Champion of his sin.
He raging thus, the Consul strives to make,
His furious heat some temp'rate thoughts partake;
Letting him know, that if with Rome he'l war,
He must unmov'd the strokes of Fortune bear.
Or else from Roman Heroes learn to die,
Who Fate o'rcame in spight of Victory;
Letting Gods see, how they frail life despise,
That with their hands themselves could sacrifice,
Nor shalt thou want example in me too;
When brave Despair shall bid me Fate subdue:
Thy heart is smitten with Bonduca's Beams,
And I both pity, and admire thy flames.
But we may yet this fatal loss repair,
While Rome, and Gaul has warlike Succours near;
Which by my conduct, and some wise delay,
Shall Brittish Arms with greater loss repay.
This said; their Powers disorder'd flight they guide,
Where woods, and gloomy tracts their dangers hide:
And thus arriv'd their Camp, in furious hast;
As Phæbus morning Beams salute the East:
This Camp long stood a Fortress of Romes fame,
And from Great Julius, bore Rhutupia's Name;
When first in blood he waded to this shoar,
And gave Kent glory, to oppose his Power.
Hither the Princes soon direct their course,
Circling these mighty Ramparts with their force;
While now their Foes by Arms no further dare,
But in this Fortress would prolong despair:
Which vast defence Albianus next surveys,
And Vortiger, inflam'd to onset, stayes;
Bidding him see, as their success now stood,
'Twill be compleated with small loss of blood.
Nor needs their force to win, what Foes must yield,
If we, but as Besiegers, keep the Field;
And make the wanton Gauls, and Romans feel
Famine, (their Riots hate;) in stead of steel.
This sage resolve the Brittish Chiefes imbrace,
And next the Princes Martianus grace,
With supream Conduct, bidding him pursue
The streights of War, and Foes that way subdue.
Which great Command with joy his soul receives,
Blessing Heaven now, his aged hours reprieves;
To see Rome thus reduc'd in shame of Fate,
That his brave Arms perversly did defeat.
And next, they grace their warlike Chiefs bold toyles,
Rewarding their high deeds with bounteous spoyles;
Their valours from Romes pompous Powers had won,
Which being with loud Acclamations done,
Tow'rds London then a stately March they lead,
Their Arms from Foes, with its fair Queen thus freed;
And with her gracious Councils there decree
How to improve this mighty Victory.