Enter BONDUCA, Daughters, HENGO, NENNIUS, and Soldiers.
Are these the men that conquer by inheritance?
The fortune-makers? these the Julians,
That with the sun measure the end of nature,
Making the world but one Rome, and one Cæsar?
Shame, how they flee! Cæsar's soft soul dwells in 'em,
Their mothers got 'em sleeping, Pleasure nursed 'em;
Their bodies sweat with sweet oils, love's allurements,
Not lusty arms. Dare they send these to seek us,
These Roman girls? Is Britain grown so wanton?
Twice we have beat 'em, Nennius, scatter'd 'em:
And through their big-boned Germans on whose pikes
The honour of their actions sits in triumph,
Made themes for songs to shame 'em: And a woman,
A woman beat 'em, Nennius; a weak woman,
A woman, beat these Romans!