Lord.

I did.

Post. No blame be to you, sir; for all was lost, But that the Heavens fought. The king himself Of his wings destitute,' the army broken, And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying Through a strait lane; the enemy full-hearted, Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work More plentiful than tools to do't, struck down. Some mortally, some slightly touched, some falling Merely through fear; that the strait pass was dammed With dead men, hurt behind, and cowards living To die with lengthened shame.

Lord.

Where was this lane? Post. Close by the battle, ditched, and walled with

turf;

Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier,-
An honest one, I warrant; who deserved
So long a breeding, as his white beard came to,
In doing this for his country:-athwart the lane,
He, with two striplings, (lads more like to run
The country base, than to commit such slaughter;
With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer
Than those for preservation cased, or shame,)
Made good the passage; cried to those that fled,
Our Britain's hearts die flying, not our men;
To darkness fleet, souls that fly backwards!
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,

Stand!

(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 would have turned

1 The stopping of the Roman army by three persons is an allusion to the story of the Hays, as related by Holinshed in his History of Scotland, p. 155; upon which Milton once intended to have formed a drama. Shakspeare was evidently acquainted with it:-"Haie beholding the king, with the most part of the nobles fighting with great valiancie in the middleward, now destitute of the wings," &c.

2 A country game called prison-bars; vulgarly, prison-base.

A distaff to a lance,) gilded pale looks,

Part shame, part spirit renewed; that some, turned coward

But by example, (O, a sin in war,

Damned in the first beginners!) 'gan to look
The way that they did, and to grin like lions
Upon the pikes o'the hunters. Then began
A stop i' the chaser, a retire; anon,

A rout, confusion thick. Forthwith they fly
Chickens, the way which they stooped eagles; slaves,
The strides they victors made: and now our cowards
(Like fragments in hard voyages) became

The life o' the need; having found the back-door open
Of the unguarded hearts, Heavens, how they wound!
Some, slain before; some, dying; some, their friends
O'erborne i' the former wave: ten, chased by one,
Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty;
Those that would die or ere resist, are grown
The mortal bugs1 o' the field.

Lord.

This was strange chance. A narrow lane! an old man, and two boys!

Post. Nay, do not wonder at it. You are made
Rather to wonder at the things you hear,
Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon't,
And vent it for a mockery? Here is one:
Two boys, an old man twice a boy, a lane,
Preserved the Britons, was the Romans' bane.
Lord. Nay, be not angry, sir.
Post.

'Lack, to what end? Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his friend; For if he'll do, as he is made to do,

I know he'll quickly fly my friendship too.
You have put me into rhyme.

Lord.
Farewell, you are angry. [Exit.
Post. Still going?-This is a lord! O noble misery!
To be i'the field, and ask, what news, of me!
To-day, how many would have given their honors
To have saved their carcasses? took heel to do't,

1 i. e. terrors, bugbears.

And yet died too? I, in mine own woe charmed,1
Could not find death, where I did hear him groan;
Nor feel him, where he struck. Being an ugly mon-

ster,

'Tis strange, he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds,
Sweet words; or hath more ministers than we
That draw his knives i'the war.-Well, I will find
him;

For being now a favorer to the Roman,
No more a Briton, I have resumed again
The part I came in. Fight I will no more,
But yield me to the veriest hind, that shall
Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is
Here made by the Roman; great the answer be
Britons must take. For me, my ransom's death;
On either side I come to spend my breath;
Which neither here I'll keep, nor bear again,
But end it by some means for Imogen.

2

Enter two British Captains and Soldiers.

1 Cap. Great Jupiter be praised! Lucius is taken. 'Tis thought the old man and his sons were angels. 2 Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly habit,3 That gave the affront with them.

1 Cap.

4

So 'tis reported;

But none of them can be found.-Stand! who is

there?

Post. A Roman;

Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds

Had answered him.

2 Cap.

Lay hands on him; a dog!

A leg of Rome shall not return to tell

What crows have pecked them here. He brags his

service

As if he were of note; bring him to the king.

1 Alluding to the common superstition of charms being powerful enough to keep men unhurt in battle.

2 i. e. retaliation.

4 i. e. the encounter.

3 Silly is simple or rustic.

Enter CYMBELINE, attended: BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, and Roman Captives. The Captains present POSTHUMUS to CYMBELINE, who delivers him over to a Jailer: after which, all

SCENE IV. A Prison.

Enter POSTHUMUS and two Jailers.

go out.1

1 Jail. You shall not now be stolen, you have locks 2 upon you;

So graze, as you find pasture.

2 Jail.

Ay, or a stomach. [Exeunt Jailers. Post. Most welcome, bondage! for thou art a way, I think, to liberty. Yet am I better

Than one that's sick o' the gout; since he had rather Groan so in perpetuity, than be cured

By the sure physician, death; who is the key

To unbar these locks. My conscience! thou art fettered

More than my shanks and wrists. You good gods, give me

The penitent instrument, to pick that bolt,
Then, free forever! Is't enough, I am sorry?
So children temporal fathers do appease ;
Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent?
I cannot do it better than in gyves,
Desired, more than constrained; to satisfy,
If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take
No stricter render of me, than my all.3

1 This stage direction for "inexplicable dumb show" is probably an interpolation by the players. Shakspeare has expressed his contempt for such mummery in Hamlet.

2 The jailer alludes to the custom of putting a lock on a horse's leg when he is turned out to pasture.

3 This passage is very obscure, and is so rendered either by the omission of a line, or some other corruption of the text. The explanation which Steevens offers is not very satisfactory. Posthumus questions whether contrition be sufficient atonement for guilt. Then, to satisfy the offended gods, he desires them to take no more than his present all, that is, his life,

I know you are more clement than vile men,
Who of their broken debtors take a third,
A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again
On their abatement; that's not my desire.
For Imogen's dear life, take mine; and though
'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coined it.
"Tween man and man, they weigh not every stamp;
Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake.
You rather mine, being yours; and so, great powers,
If you will take this audit, take this life,
And cancel these cold bonds.1 O Imogen!
I'll speak to thee in silence.

[He sleeps.

Solemn music. Enter, as an apparition, SICILIUS LEONATUS, father to POSTHUMUS, an old man, attired like a warrior; leading in his hand an ancient matron, his wife, and mother to POSTHUMUS, with music before them. Then, after other music, follow the two young Leonati, brothers to POSTHUMUS, with wounds, as they died in the wars. They circle POSTHUMUS round, as he lies sleeping.

Sici. No more, thou thunder-master, show
Thy spite on mortal flies;

With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,

That thy adulteries

Rates and revenges.

Hath my poor boy done aught but well,
Whose face I never saw?

I died, whilst in the womb he staid
Attending Nature's law.

if it is the main part, the chief point, or principal condition of his freedom, i. e. of his freedom from future punishment.”

1 So in Macbeth:

"Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond
That keeps me pale."

2 This scene is supposed not to be Shakspeare's, but foisted in by the players for mere show. The great Poet, who has conducted his fifth act with such matchless skill, could never have designed the vision to be twice described by Posthumus, had this nonsense been previously delivered on the stage. It appears that the players indulged themselves, sometimes, in unwarrantable liberties of the same kind.