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Would too to heaven Ye reverenc'd the gods but e'en enough Not to debase with slavery's cruel chain What they created free.
The Romans fight Not to enslave but humanize the world.
Go to, we will not parley with thee, Roman.
Hear it and thank us. This once our clemency shall spare your groves, If at our call ye yield the British king: Yet learn, when next ye aid the foes of Cæsar That each old oak, whose solemn gloom ye value, Shall bow beneath our axes.
Be they blasted Whene'er their shade forgets to shelter virtue.
Mourn, mourn, Caractacus is captive!
Enter CARACTACUS (guarded). Romans, methinks the malice of your tyrant Might furnish heavier chains. Old as I am, And wither'd as you see these war-worn limbs, Trust me they shall support the weightiest load Injustice does impose.
Proud-crested soldier, Who seem'st the master mover in this business,
Say, dost thou read less terror on my brow
(He sees his son's body.)
Is it thus?
Droop not, king;
Can a Roman pity, soldier? And if he can, gods! must a Briton bear it? Arviragus, my bold, my breathless boy, Thou hast escaped such pity ; thou art free! Here in high Mona shall thy noble limbs Rest in a noble grave; posterity Shall to thy tomb with annual reverence bring Sepulchral stones, and pile them to the clouds, While mine
| Am I less terrible in my countenance.
The morn doth hasten our departure.
Be it so,
I know you Romans weep not for your children;
But thou wast still implacable to Rome
Soldier, I had arms,
(Alfred the Great, 849–901 ; Geoffrey Chaucer, 1328-1400.)
HERE in a little rustic hermitage
H. W. LONGFELLOW.
· Alfred the Great translated into English the celebrated work entitled “ The Consolation of Philosophy," written by the Roman Boethius.