Cannot be question'd.

Arv. By this Sun that shines,

I'll thither; what thing is it, that I never
Did fee man die, fcarce ever look'd on blood,
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison?
Never beftrid a horse fave one, that had

A rider like myself who ne'er wore rowel,
Nor iron on his heel? I am afham'd
To look upon the holy Sun, to have
The benefit of his best beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.

Guid. By heav'ns, I'll go;

If you will blefs me, Sir, and give me leave,
I'll take the better care; but if you will not,
The hazard therefore due fall on me, by
The hands of Romans!

Aru. So fay I, Amen.

Bel. No reafon I (fince of your lives you fet
So flight a valuation) fhould reserve
My crack'd one to more care.

boys;

Have with

If in your country wars you chance to die,

That is my bed too, lads; and there I'll lye.

you,

Lead, lead; the time seems long: their blood thinks

fcorn

'Till it flie out, and fhew them Princes born.

[Exeunt.

АСТ

ACT V. SCENE I

A Field between the British and Roman Camps. Enter Pofthumus, with a bloody bankerchief.

POSTHUM U S.

YEA, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for I wifht,

Thou fhould't be colour'd thus. You married

Ones,

If each of you would take this course, how many
Muft 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 lived to put on this; fo had you faved
The noble Imogen to repent, and struck

Me, wretch, more worth your vengeance. But alack,
You snatch from hence for little faults; that's love;
To have them fall no more:you fome permit
To fecond ills with ills, each worse than other,
And make them dread, to the doers' thrift.
But Imogen's your own: do your best wills,
And make me bleft t'obey! I am brought hither
Among th' Italian Gentry, and to fight
Against my lady's Kingdom; 'tis enough,
That, Britaine, I have kill'd thy miftrefs: Peace!
I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good heav'ns,
Hear patiently my purpose. I'll difrobe me
Of thefe Italian weeds, and fuit myself
As do's a Briton peafant; fo I'll fight
Against the part I come with; fo 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

My

Myfelf I'll dedicate. Let me make men know
More valour in me, than my Habits fhew;
Gods, put the ftrength o' th' Leonati in me!
To fhame the guife o' th' world, I will begin
The fashion, lefs without, and more within.

[Exit.

Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and the Roman army at one door; and the British army at another; Leonatus Pofthumus following like a poor foldier. They march over, and go out. Then enter again in skirmish Iachimo, and Pofthumus; be vanquisheth and difarmeth Iachimo, and then leaves him.

Iach. The heavinefs and guilt, within my bofom, Takes off my manhood; I've bely'd a lady, The Princefs of this country; and the air on't Revengingly enfeebles me: or could this carle, A very drudge of nature, have subdu’d me In my profeffion? Knighthoods, and Honours born, As I wear mine, are titles but of fcorn: If that thy gentry, Britaine, go before

This lowt, as he exceeds our lords, the odds Is, that we fcarce are men, and you are Gods. [Exit. The battle continues; the Britons fly, Cymbeline is taken; then enter to his refcue, Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.

Bel. Stand, ftand; we have th' advantage of the
ground;

That lane is guarded: nothing routs us, but
The villany of our fears.

Guid. Arv. Stand, ftand, and fight.

Enter Pofthumus, and feconds the Britons. They refcue Cymbeline, and exeunt.

Then Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and Imogen.

Luc. Away, boy, from the troops, and fave thyself; For friends kill friends, and the disorder's fuch

As

As war were hood-wink'd.

Iach. 'Tis their fresh fupplies.

Luc. It is a day turn'd ftrangely. Or betimes Let's re-inforce, or fly.

SCENE II.

[Exeunt.

Another Part of the Field of Battle.

Enter Pofthumus, and a British Lord.

Lord. Cam

Am'ft 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 loft,
But that the heavens fought: the King himself
Of his wings deftitute, the army broken,
•And but the backs of Britaine feen; all flying
• Through a ftraight lane, the enemy full-hearted,
Lolling the tongue with flaughtering, having work
More plentiful, than tools to do't, ftruck down
Some mortally, fome flightly touch'd, fome falling
Meerly through fear, that the straight Pafs was

damn'd

• With dead men, hurt behind, and cowards living • To die with lengthen'd fhame.

Lord. Where was this lane?

Poft. Close by the battle, ditch'd, and wall'd with turf,

Which gave advantage to an ancient foldier,
(An honeft 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 ftriplings, (lads, more like to run
The country Bafe, than to commit fuch flaughter;
With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer

Than

I

Than those for preservation cas'd, or fhame,)
Made good the paffage, cry'd to those that fled,
Our Britaine's Harts die flying, not our men;
To darkness fleet fouls, that fly backwards! stand;
Or we are Romans, and will give you That

Like beafts, which you fhun beaftly, and may fave But to look back in frown: ftand, ftand.-Thefe three,

Three thousand confident, in act as many; (For three performers are the file, when all

The reft do nothing;) with this word, Stand, stand, Accommodated by the place, (more charming

With their own Noblenefs, which could have turn'd A distaff to a lance) gilded pale looks;

2

Part, shame, part, fpirit-renew'd; that fome, turn'd

coward

But by example, (oh, a fin in war,

Damn'd in the firft beginners!) 'gan to look
The way that they did, and to grin like lions
Upon the pikes o'th' hunters. Then began
A ftop i'th' chafer, a retire; anon,

A rout, confufion-thick. Forthwith they flie Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles: slaves, The ftrides they victors 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 flain before, fome dying; fome, their friends O'er-borne i'th' former wave; ten, chac'd by one, Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty;

1 - for preservation cas'd, or fhame,] Shame, for modefty. that fome, turn'd coward] Some, for that part

2

which.

3 A rout, confufion thick.-] This is read as if it was a thick confufion, and only another term for rout: whereas confufion-thick should be read thus with an hyphen, and is a very beautiful compound epithet to rout. But Shakespear's fine diction is not a little obfcured throughout by thus disfiguring his compound adjectives.

Thofe,