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dashed against the chariots, others dispersed by them; some, advancing in troops against the archers, put them to flight; others saved themselves by keeping aloof : and this occurred not in one, but in three several places at once. For a long while each contended with equal spirit and boldness. Finally, though late, the Romans conquered ; they killed numbers in the fight, and near the waggons, and in a wood; they also took many alive. Great numbers, too, escaped and made ready again as f for battle. But about this time Bunduica dying by disease, they bewailed her sorely, and buried her with great funeral splendour ; and as if they were now really discomfited, they became completely dispersed.
5.-SCENE FROM BONDUCA, A TRAGEDY.
BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER,
Bonduca. The hardy Romans ? Oh, ye gods of Britain,
Car. So it seems ;
Bond. Who's that ?
Car. No, Bonduca ;
Bond. My valiant cousin, is it foul to say
And what the gods allow us ?
Car. No, Bonduca ;
Bond. They are no more.
Car. Where is your conquest then ?
Bond. By the gods, I think
Car. Witness these wounds, I do ; they were fairly giv'n :
And, follow'd, will be impudence, Bonduca,
Car. Dishearten'd, Run, run, Bonduca! not the quick rack swifter ; The virgin from the hated ravisher Not half so fearful ; not a flight drawn home, A round stone from a sling, a lover's wish, E’er made that haste that they have. By the gods, I've seen these Britons, that you magnify, Run as they would have out-run time, and roaring, Basely for mercy roaring ; the light shadows, That in a thought scur o'er the fields of corn, Halted on crutches to 'em.
Bond. Oh, ye powers,
Car. Yes, Bonduca,
Nen. And what did you then Caratach ?
Car. I fled too, But not so fast; your jewel had been lost then, Young Hengo there ; he trasht me Nennius : For when your fears out-run him, then stept I, And in the head of all the Roman fury Took him, and, with my tough belt, to my back I buckled him ; behind him, my sure shield ; And then I follow'd. If I say I fought Five times in bringing off this bud of Britain, I lie not, Nennius. Neither had you heard Me speak this, or ever seen the child more, But that the son of Virtue, Penius, Seeing me steer thro' all these storms of danger, My helm still in my hand (my sword), my prow Turn'd to my foe (my face), he cried out nobly, Go, Briton, bear thy lion's whelp off safely ; Thy manly sword has ransom'd thee; grow strong, And let me meet thee once again in arms ; Then if thou stand'st thou’rt mine. I took his offer, And here I am to honour him.
Bond. Oh, cousin, From what a flight of honour hast thou check'd me! What wouldst thou make me, Caratach ?
Car. See, lady,
The noble use of others in our losses.
Bond. Let me think we conquer'd.
Car. Do ; but so think, as we may be conquer'd ;
Bond. No more ; I see myself. Thou hast made me, cousin,
Car. Thy love and hate are both unwise ones, lady.
Car. Not where the cause implies a general conquest :
C. KNIGHT. (From Old England.') The great wonder of Salisbury Plain,-the most remarkable monument of antiquity in our island, if we take into account its comparative preservation as well as its grandeur,-is Stonehenge. It is situated about seven miles north of Salisbury. It may be most conveniently approached from the little town of Amesbury. Passing by a noble Roman earth-work called the Camp of Vespasian, as we ascend out of the valley of the Avon, we gain an uninterrupted view of the undulating downs which surround us on every side. The name of Plain conveys an inadequate notion of the character of this singular district. The platform is not flat, as might be imagined ; but ridge after ridge leads the eye onwards to the bolder hills of the extreme distance, or the last ridge is lost in the low horizon. The peculiar character of the scene is that of the most complete solitude. It is possible that a shepherd boy may be descried watching his flocks nibbling the short thymy grass with which the downs are everywhere covered ; but, with the exception of a shed or a hovel, there is no trace of human dwelling. This peculiarity arises from the physical character of the district. It is not that man is not here, but that his abodes are hidden in the little valleys. On each bank of the Avon to the east of Stonehenge, villages and hamlets are found at every mile ; and on the small branch of the Wyly to the west there is a cluster of parishes, each with its church, in whose names, such as Orcheston Maries, and Shrawston Virgo, we hail the tokens of institutions which left Stonehenge a ruin. We must not hastily conclude, therefore, that this great monument of antiquity was set up in an unpeopled region; and that, whatever might be its uses, it was visited only by pilgrims from far-off places. But the aspect of Stonehenge, as we have said, is that of entire solitude. The distant view is somewhat disappointing to to the raised expectation. The hull of a large ship, motionless on the wide sea, with no object near by which to measure its bulk, appears an insignificant thing: it is a speck in the vastness by which it is surrounded. Approach that ship, and the largeness of its parts leads us to estimate the grandeur of the whole. So is it with Stonehenge. The vast plain occupies so much of the eye that even a large town set down upon it would appear a hamlet. But as we approach the pile, the mind gradually becomes impressed with its real character. It is now the Chorea Gigantum-the Choir of Giants ; and the tradition that Merlin the Magician brought the stones from Ireland is felt to be a poetical homage to the greatness of the work.
However the imagination may be impressed by the magnitude of those masses of stone which still remain in their places, by the grandeur even of the fragments confused or broken in their fall, by the consideration of the vast labour required to bring such ponderous substances to this desolate spot, and by surmise of the nature of the mechanical skill by which they were lifted up and placed in order and proportion, it is not till the entire plan is fully comprehended that we can properly surrender ourselves to the contemplations which belong to this remarkable scene. It is then, when we can figure to ourselves a perfect structure, composed of such huge materials symmetrically arranged, and possessing, therefore, that beauty which is the result of symmetry, that we can satisfactorily look back through the dim light of history or tradition to the object for which such a structure was destined. The belief now appears tolerably settled that Stonehenge was a temple of the Druids. It differs, however, from all other Druidical remains, in the circumstance that greater mechanical art was employed in its construction, especially in the superincumbent stones of the outer circle and of the trilithons, from which it is supposed