MER. Leave these weak brawlings. Now swift time hath spent A Pylian age and more, since you two breath'd, Mirrors of Briton and of Roman valour. Lo, now the black imperial bird doth clasp Under her wings the continent; and Mars, Trampling down nations with his brazen wheels, Fights for his nephews, and hath once more made Britons and Romans meet. To view these deeds I, Hermes, bring you to this upper sky; Where you may wander, and with ghastly looks Incite your countrymen, when night and sleep Conquer the eyes: when weary bodies rest, And senses cease,[258] be furies in their breast. Never two nations better match'd; for Jove Loves both alike. Whence then these armed bands? Mavors[259] for Rome, Neptune for Albion stands. BREN. Then let war ope his jaws as wide as hell, And fright young babes; my country-folk, more stern, Can outlook Gorgon. Let the Fates transpos'd Hang beaten flags up in the victor's land: Full dearly will each pace of ground be sold, Which rated is at dearest blood, not gold. What! are their ruin'd fanes, demolish'd walls, So soon forgot? Doth Allia yet run clear? Or can three hundred summers slake their fear? CAM. Arise, thou Julian star, whose angry beams Be heralds to the North of war and death. Let those black calends be reveng'd; those ghosts, Whose mangled sheaths, depriv'd of funeral rites, Made the six hills promise a Cadmus' crop-- Be expiated with a fiery deluge. Jove rules the spheres, Rome all the world beside; And shall this little corner be denied? MER. Bandy no more these private frowns; but haste, Fly to your parties, and enrage their minds: Till, at the period of these broils, I call And back reduce you[260] to grim Pluto's hall [_Exeunt._ FOOTNOTES: [251] Brennus, king or leader of the Transalpine Gauls. He won the battle of Allia against the Romans, and in consequence of it made himself master of their city, which he entered about the year 363 from its foundation, and committed every excess which wanton barbarity could dictate. After continuing there some time, he was defeated and driven out of it by Camillus, then an exile, but created dictator on the occasion. [252] So Milton, in "Comus," l. 811-- "One sip of this Will _bathe the drooping spirits in delight_ _Beyond the bliss of dreams_." The thought is much older than Milton, and the following from Chaucer is still more apposite-- "His herte was _bathed in a bath of bliss_." --"Wife of Bath's Tale." Chaucer has nearly the same expression in his "Book of Troilus," l. 1, st. 4-- "But ye lovers that _bathen in gladnesse_." --_Collier._ [253] See Virgil's "Æneid," bk. vi.