Page images
[ocr errors]

Ev'n to the note o'thKing, or I'll fall in them: all other doubts, by time let them be clear'd; Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd. [Exit.

SCENE IX. Changes to the forest.

Enter Belarius, Guiderus, and Arviragus.
Guid. The noise is round about us,
Bel. Let us from it.

Arv. What pleasure, Sir, find we io life, to lock it From action and adventure ?

Guid. Nay, what hope
Have we in hiding us? this way the Romans
Must or for Britons slay us, or receive us
For barb'rous and vonatural revolters
During their use, and flay us after.

Bel. Sons,
We'll higher to the mouatains, there secure us..
To the King's party there's no going ; newness.
of Cloten's death (we being not known, nor musterid
Among the bands) may drive us to a render *
Where we have liv'd; and fo extort from us
That which we've done, whose answer would be death
Drawn on with torture.

Guid. This is, Sir, a doubt
(In such a time) nothing becoming you,
Nor satisfying us.

Aro. It is not likely,
That when they hear the Roman horses neigh,
Behold their quarter'd fires, have both their eyes.
And ears fo 'ploy'd t importantly as now,
That they will waste their time upon our note
To know from whence we are.

Bel, Oh, I am known

many in the army; many years, Though Cloten then but young, (you fee), not wore hima From my remembrance. And, besides, the King Hath not deserv'd my service, nor your loves, Who find in my exile the want of breeding; The certainty of this hard life, nye hopelets

a render, for a confeffione ☆ 1,6, employedi

To have the courtesy your cradle promis'd;
But to be still hot summer's tanlings, and
The shrinking Naves of winter.

Guid. Than be fo,
Better to cease to be. Pray, Sir, to th' army..
I and my brother are not known ; yourself
So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown,
Cannot be question'd.

Arv. By this fun that shines,
I'll chither; what thing is it, that I never
Did see man die, scarce ever look'd on blood,
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison !
Never bestrid a horse save one, that had
A rider like myself who ne'er wore rowel,
Nor iron on his heel ? I am asham'd
To look upon the holy sun, to have
The benefit of his bleised beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.

Guid. By heav'ns, I'll go.
If you will bless me, Sir, and give me leave,
I'll take the better care ; but if you
The hazard therefore due fall on me, by
The hands of Romans !

Aru. So say I, Amen.
Bel. No reason I (since of your


fet So flight a valuation) should reserve My crack'd one to more care. Have with you, boys : It in your country-wars you chance to die, That is my bed too, lads; and there l'll lie. Lead, lead; the time seems long : their blood thinks scorn

[ Aside Till it fly out, and shew them princes born. [Exeunt.

will not,

А ст

A field between the British and Roman camps,
Enter Posthumus, with a bloody handkerchief.

TEA, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for I wish'd

Poft. Y . mar

ried ones,

If each of you would take this course, how many
Mult murder wives much better than themselves

For wrying but a little ? Oh, Pifanio!
Every good fervant does not all commands;
No bond, but to do just ones. Gods! if you
Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I never
Had liv'd to put on this ; fo had you

The Noble Imogen to repent, and struck
Me, wretch, more worth your vengeance. But, alack,
You snatch some hence for little faults ; that's love,
To have them fall no more: -you some permit
To second ills with ills, each worse than other,
And make them dreaded, to the doers' tbrift.-
But Imogen's your own : do your

best wills, And make me bless'd t'obey! I am brought hither Among th' Italian gentry, and to fight Against my Lady's kingdom; 'tis enough, That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistreis. Peace! I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good heav'ns, Hear patiently my purpose. I'll difrobe me Of these Italian weeds, and suit myself As do's a Briton peasant ; so I'll fight Against the part I come with ; so I'll die For thee, O Imogen, for whom my life Is, ev'ry breath, a death ; and thus unknown, Pitied, nor hated, to the face of peril Myselt I'll dedicate. Let me make men know More valour in me than my habit shews ; Gods, put the strength o' th’ Leonati in me! To shame the guise o' th' world, I will begin The fashion, less without, and more within.

[Exit. Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and the Roman army at one door;

und the British army at another; Leonatus Posthumus following like a poor soldier. They march over, and go out. Then enter again in skirmish lachimo and Posthumus; he vanquisbeth and difarmeth lachimo, and then leaves him.

lach. The heaviness and guilt within my bosom
Takes off my manhood ; I've bely'd a lady,
The princess of this country ; and the air on't
Revengingly, enfeebles me i or could this carle,
A very drudge of nature, have subdu'd me
In my protellion! Knighthood, and honours born,

As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn.
If that thy gentry, Britain, go before
This lowt, as he exceeds our lords, the odds
Is, that we scarce are men, and you are gods. [Exit.
The battle continues ; the Britons fly; Cymbeliae is taken;

then enter to his rescue, Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.

Bel Stand, stand; we have th’advantage of the ground; That lane is guarded : nothing routs us, but The villany of our fears.

Guid, Arv. Stand, stand, and fight, Enter Posthumus, and seconds the Britons. They rescut Cymbeline, and exeunt.

Then enter Lucius, Iachimo, and Imogen. Luc. Away, boy, from the troops, and save thyself; For friends kill friends, and the disorder's such As war were hoodwink'd.

lach. 'Tis their freth supplies.

Luc. It is a day turn’d strangely. Or betimes Let's reinforce, or fly.

[Exeunt. SCENE II. Another part of the field of battle.

Enter Posthumus, and a British Lord.
Lord, Cam'it thou from where they made the stand?

Poft. I did ;
Though you, it seems, came from the fliers.

Lord. I did,

Poft. No blame be to you, Sir; for all was lost, But that the heavens fought : the King hinifelf • of his wings destitute, the army broken, • And but the backs of Britons seen; all flying • Through a straight lane, the enemy full hearted, • Lolling the tongue with flaughtering, having work • More plentiful; than tools to do't, struck down • Some mortally, fome slightly touch'd, fomie falling "Merely through fear, that the straight pass was damm'd • With dead men, hurt behind, and cowards living

To die with lengthen'd shame.

[ocr errors]

Lord. Where was this lane ?

Poft, Close by the battle, ditch'd and walld with Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier, [turf, (An honest one, I warrant), who deferv'd So long a breeding as his white beard came to, In doing this for's country. 'Thwart the lane, He, with two stripplings, lads, more like to run The country base, than to commit such flaughter'; With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer Than those for preservation cas'd, or shame *), Made good the passage, cry'd to those that fled, Our Britain's harts die flying, not our men ; To darkness fleet souls that fly backwards ! stand; Or we are Romans, and will give you that Like beasts which you shun beastly, and may save But to look back in frown : stand, stand. These three, Three thousand confident, in act as many; (For three performers are the file, when all The rest do nothing), with this word, Stand, stand, Accommodated by the place, (more charming With their own nobleness, which could have turn'd A distaff to a lance), gilded pale looks ; Part shame, part 1pirit renew'd ; that some + turn'd But by example, (oh, a fin in war,

[cowards Damn'd in the firit beginners!) 'gan to look The way that they did, and to grin like lions Upon the pikes o'th' hunters. Then began A stop i'th'chaser, a retire ; anon, A rout confusion-thick. Forthwith they'fly Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles: flaves, The strides they vietors made ; and now our cowards, Like fragments

, in hard voyages, became The life o' th' need ; having found the back door open Of the unguarded hearts, heav'ns, how they wound Some lain before, some dying ; fome, their friends D'erborne i? the former wave ; ten, chas'd by one, Are now each one the slaughterman of twenty ; Those that would die or ere resist, are grown The mortal bugs oth' field. Lord. This was strange chance ;

Shame, for modesty.

Some, for that part which, VOL. VII.


« PreviousContinue »