_Pen._ But see there, _Drusus_, see, See that huge Battel moving from the mountains, Their gilt coats shine like Dragons scales, their march Like a rough tumbling storm; see them, and view '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 murdring Death rides in triumph _Drusus_: 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 mountain Melts under their hot wheels, and from their Ax'trees Huge claps of thunder plough the ground before 'em, Till then I'll dream what _Rome_ was. _Enter_ Swetonius, Petillius, Demetrius, Macer. _Swet._ O bravely fought; honor till now nere show'd Her golden fa[c]e i'th' field. Like Lions, Gentlemen, Y'have held your heads up this day: Where's young _Junius_, _Curius_ and _Decius_? _Petill._ Gone to heaven, I think, Sir. _Sw._ Their worths go with 'em: breathe a while: How do ye? _Pet._ Well; some few scurvy wounds, my heart's whole yet. _Dem._ Would they would give us more ground. _Swet._ Give? we'll have it. _Petill._ Have it? and hold it too, despight the devill. _Enter_ Junius, Decius, Curius. _Jun._ Lead up to th' head, and line: sure the Qs. Battell Begins to charge like wild-fire: where's the General? _Swet._ Oh, they are living yet. Come my brave soldiers, Come, let me pour _Romes_ blessing on ye; Live, Live, and lead Armies all: ye bleed hard. _Jun._ Best: We shall appear the sterner to the foe. _Dec._ More wounds, more honor. _Petill._ Lose no time. _Swet._ Away then, And stand this shock, ye have stood the world. _Petill._ Wee'll grow to't. Is not this better than lowsie loving? _Jun._ I am my self, _Petillius_. _Petill._ 'Tis I love thee. [_Exeunt_ Romans. _Enter_ Bonduca, Caratach, Daughters, Nennius. _Car._ Charge 'em i'th' flanks: O ye have plaid the fool, The fool extreamly, the mad fool. _Bon._ Why Cosin? _Car._ The woman fool. Why did you give the word Unto the carts to charge down, and our people In gross before the Enemy? we pay for't, Our own swords cut our throats: why? ---- on't; Why do you offer to command? the divell, The divell, and his dam too, who bid you Meddle in mens affairs? [_Exeunt Queen, &c._ _Bond._ I'll help all. _Car._ Home, Home and spin woman, spin, go spin, ye trifle. Open before there, or all's ruine. How, [_Showts within._ Now comes the Tempest; on our selves, by ---- [_Victoria within._ O woman, scurvie woman, beastly woman. [_Exeunt._ _Dru. Victoria, Victoria._ _Pen._ How's that, _Drusus_?