| Mercury. | Livius, lib. 5 | |
| Fur. Camillus. | ||
| Brennus. | ||
| Julius Cæsar. | Cæsar, Com. de bell. Gall., lib 4 et 5. | |
| C. Volusenus. | ||
| Q. Laberius, alias Labienus. | ||
| Q. Atrius. | ||
| Comius Atrebas. | ||
| Cassibelanus, imperator Britannorum. | ||
| Mandubratius, princeps Trinobantum. | ||
| Cingetorix, | four petty kings in Kent. | |
| Carvilius, | ||
| Taximagulus, | ||
| Segonax, | ||
| Lud, his sons | Androgeus. | Galfrid Monumetensis lib. 4. |
| Tenantius. | ||
| Cassibelane. | ||
| Nennius. | ||
| Belinus, a chief nobleman. | ||
| Hirildas, nephew to Cassibelane. | ||
| Eulinus, nephew to Androgeus. | ||
| Cridous, king of Albania. | ||
| Britael, king of Demetia. | ||
| Guerthed, king of Ordovicia. | ||
Names Feigned.
| Lantonus, | two druids, or priests. |
| Hulacus, | |
| Landora, | two ladies mentioned. |
| Cordella, | |
| Rollano, a Belgic. | |
| Chorus of five Bards or Poets-Laureate. | |
| Soldiers, Shipmen, Servants. | |
FUIMUS TROES: THE TRUE TROJANS.
Mercury conducting the ghosts of Brennus and Camillus[251] in complete armour, and with swords drawn.
Mer. As in the vaults of this big-bellied earth
Are dungeons, whips and flames for wicked ghosts;
So fair Elysian fields, where spotless souls
Do bathe themselves in bliss.[252] Amongst the rest,[253]
Two pleasant groves by two sorts are possess'd:
One by true lovers crown'd with myrtle boughs,
Who hand-in-hand sing pæans of their joy:
Brave soldiers hold the second, clad in steel,
Whose glittering arms brighten those gloomy shades,
In lieu of starry lights. From hence I bring
A pair of martial imps,[254] by Jove's decree,
As sticklers[255] in their nation's enmity.
Furious Camillus, and, thou Briton bold,
Great Brennus, sheathe your conquering blades. In vain
You threaten death; for ghosts may not be slain.
Bren. From the unbounded ocean and cold climes,
Where Charles his wain[256] circles the Northern Pole,
I first led out great swarms of shaggy Gauls
And big-bon'd Britons. The white-pated Alps,
Where snow and winter dwell, did bow their necks
To our victorious feet: Rome, proudest Rome,
We cloth'd in scarlet of patrician blood,
And 'bout your Capitol pranc'd our vaunting steeds,
Defended more by geese,[257] than by your gods.
Cam. But I cut short your fury, and my sword
Redeem'd the city, making your huge trunks
To fat our crows, and dung our Latian fields.
I turn'd your torrent to another coast;
And what you quickly won, you sooner lost.