For who is he here, did not wish thee chosen?
Now thou art chosen, ask them-all will say so--,
Nay, swear't-'tis for the King: but let that pass.
When last in conference at the bouzing ken',
This other day, we sat about our dead prince,
Of famous memory (rest go with his rags!),
And that I saw thee at the table's end,

Rise mov'd, and gravely leaning on one crutch,
Lift t'other, like a sceptre, at my head;

I then presag'd thou shortly wouldst be king.
And now thou art so-but what need presage
To us, that might have read it in thy beard,
As well as he that chose thee? By that beard,
Thou wert found out and mark'd for sovereignty!
Oh, happy beard! but happier Prince, whose beard
Was so remark'd, as marking out our Prince,
Not bating us a hair. Long may it grow,
And thick and fair, that who lives under it
May live as safe as under beggars' bush,
Of which this is the thing, that but the type.
Omnes. Excellent, excellent orator! Forward,
good Higgen

Give him leave to spit-the fine, well-spoken Higgen!

Hig. This is the beard, the bush, or bushy beard, Under whose gold and silver reign 'twas said So many ages since, we all should smile, No impositions, taxes, grievances !

Knots in a state, and whips unto a subject,

Lie lurking in this beard, but all kemb'd out.

1 Alehouse.-2 Combed.

If, now, the beard be such, what is the Prince
That owes the beard? A father? no—a grandfather ?
Nay, the great-grandfather of you his people.
He will not force away your hens, your bacon,
When you have ventur'd hard for't; nor take from
you

The fattest of your puddings. Under him

Each man shall eat his own stol'n eggs and butter,
In his own shade or sunshine, and enjoy

His own dear doll doxy, or mort at night
In his own straw, with his own shirt or sheet,
That he hath filch'd that day-ay, and possess
What he can purchase-back or belly cheats
To his own prop. He will have no purveyors
For pigs and poultry.

Clause. That we must have, my learned orator, It is our will-and every man to keep

In his own path and circuit.

Hig. Do you hear?

You must hereafter maund on your own pads, he

says.

Clause. And what they get there is their own; besides,

To give good words

Hig. Do you mark, to cut been whids,

That is the second law.

DISTANT VIEW OF THE ROMAN ARMY ENGAGING THE BRITONS.

FROM THE TRAGEDY OF BONDUCA, SCENE V. ACT III.

SEE that huge battle moving from the mountains, Their gilt coats shine like dragon scales, their march Like a rough tumbling storm; see 'em, * * * And then see Rome no more. Say they fail; look, Look where the armed carts stand, a new army! Look how they hang like falling rocks, as murdering Death rides in triumph, Drusius, fell Destruction Lashes his fiery horse, and round about him

His many

thousand ways to let out souls. Move me again when they charge', when the moun

tain

Melts under their hot wheels, and from their ax-trees Huge claps of thunder plough the ground before

them,

Till then I'll dream what Rome was.

BONDUCA ATTACKED IN HER FORTRESS BY THE ROMANS.

FROM THE SAME, SCENE IV. ACT IV.

Persons. Suetonius, Junius, Decius, and other Romans. Bonduca and her daughters with Nennius above.

Sueton. BRING up the catapults, and shake the wall, We will not be outbrav'd thus.

The Roman who makes this speech is supposed to be reclining, overcome with fatigue, and going to snatch a momentary repose.

Nennius. Shake the earth,

Ye cannot shake our souls.

Bring up your rams,

And with their armed heads make the fort totter,

Ye do but rock us into death.

Junius. See, sir,

See the Icenian queen in all her glory

From the strong battlements proudly appearing,
As if she meant to give us lashes.

Decius. Yield, queen.

Bonduca. I'm unacquainted with that language, Roman.

Sueton. Yield, honour'd lady, and expect our mercy; We love thy nobleness.

Bond. I thank ye, ye say well;

But mercy and love are sins in Rome and hell. Sueton. You cannot 'scape our strength, you must yield, lady;

You must adore and fear the power of Rome.
Bond. If Rome be earthly, why should any knee
With bending adoration worship her?

She's vicious, and your partial selves confess
Aspires the height of all impiety.

Therefore 'tis fitter I should reverence

The thatched houses where the Britons dwell

In careless mirth; where the bless'd household gods
See nought but chaste and simple purity.

"Tis not high power that makes a place divine,
Nor that the men from gods derive their line;
But sacred thoughts, in holy bosoms stor❜d,
Make people noble, and the place ador'd,

Sueton. Beat the wall deeper.

Bond. Beat it to the centre,

We will not sink one thought.
Sueton. I'll make ye.

Bond. No.

Second Daughter. Oh, mother, these are fearful hours!-speak gently.

CARATACH, PRINCE OF THE BRITONS, WITH HIS NEPHEW HENGO ASLEEP.

FROM SCENE III. ACT V. OF THE SAME.

Car. SLEEP still, sleep sweetly, child; 'tis all thou feed'st on:

No gentle Briton near, no valiant charity

To bring thee food. Poor knave, thou'rt sick, extreme sick,

Almost grown wild for meat, and yet thy goodness
Will not confess or shew it. All the woods

Are double lin❜d with soldiers, no way left us
To make a noble 'scape. I'll sit down by thee,
And when thou wak'st either get meat to save thee,
Or lose my life i'the purchase. Good gods comfort

thee!

Enter CARATACH and HENGO on the rock.

Car. Courage, my boy, I've found meat: look,

Hengo,

Look, where some blessed Briton, to preserve thee,