know, uncle,
We must all die: my little brother died;
I saw him die, and he died smiling; sure,
There's no great pain in't, uncle. But pray tell me,
Whither must we go when we are dead?

_Caratach [aside]_--Strange questions!
Why, the blessed'st place, boy! ever sweetness
And happiness dwell there.

_Hengo_--Will you come to me?

_Caratach_--Yes, my sweet boy.

_Hengo_--Mine aunt too, and my cousins?

_Caratach_--All, my good child.

_Hengo_--No Romans, uncle?

_Caratach_--No, boy.

_Hengo_--I should be loath to meet them there.

_Caratach_--No ill men,
That live by violence and strong oppression,
Come thither: 'tis for those the gods love, good men.

_Hengo_--Why, then, I care not when I go, for surely
I am persuaded they love me: I never
Blasphemed 'em, uncle, nor transgressed my parents;
I always said my prayers.

_Caratach_--Thou shalt go, then;
Indeed thou shalt.

_Hengo_--When they please.

_Caratach_--That's my good boy!
Art thou not weary, Hengo?

_Hengo_--Weary, uncle!
I have heard you say you have marched all day in armor.

_Caratach_--I have, boy.

_Hengo_--Am not I your kinsman?

_Caratach_--Yes.

_Hengo_--And am not I as fully allied unto you
In those brave things as blood?

_Caratach_--Thou art too tender.

_Hengo_--To go upon my legs? they were made to bear me.
I can play twenty miles a day; I see no reason
But, to preserve my country and myself,
I should march forty.

_Caratach_--What wouldst thou be, living
To wear a man's strength!

_Hengo_--Why, a Caratach,
A Roman-hater, a scourge sent from Heaven
To whip these proud thieves from our kingdom. Hark!

[_Drum within._]

* * * * *

[_They are on a rock in the rear of a wood._]

_Caratach_--Courage, my boy! I have found meat: look, Hengo,
Look where some blessed Briton, to preserve thee,
Has hung a little food and drink: cheer up, boy;
Do not forsake me now.

_Hengo_--O uncle, uncle,
I feel I cannot stay long! yet I'll fetch it,
To keep your noble life. Uncle, I am heart-whole,
And would live.

_Caratach_--Thou shalt, long, I hope.

_Hengo_--But my head, uncle!
Methinks the rock goes round.

[_E