SCENE III.-A Room in CYMBELINE'S Palace.
Enter CYMBELINE, Lords, and PISANIO.
Cym. Again; and bring me word how 't is with
her.

A fever with the absence of her son;

A madness, of which her life's in danger.-
Heavens,

How deeply you at once do touch me! Imogen,
The great part of my comfort, gone; my queen
Upon a desperate bed; and in a time
When fearful wars point at me, her son gone,
So needful for this present: it strikes me past
The hope of comfort.-But for thee, fellow,
Who needs must know of her departure, and
Dost seem so ignorant, we 'll enforce it from thee
By a sharp torture.

1st Lord. So please your majesty, The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn, Are landed on your coast; with a supply

Of Roman gentleman, by the senate sent.

From my remembrance. And besides, the king
Hath not deserved my service, nor your loves;
Who find in my exile the want of breeding,
The certainty of this hard life; aye hopeless
To have the courtesy your cradle promised;
But to be still hot summer's tanlings, and
The shrinking slaves of winter.
Than be so,
Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to the army:
I and my brother are not known; yourself,
So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown,

Gui.

And make me blessed to obey !-I am brought hither

Among the Italtan gentry, and to fight

Against my lady's kingdom: 't is enough
That, Britain, I have killed thy mistress: peace!
I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good

heavens,

Hear patiently my purpose: I'll disrobe me
Of these Italian weeds, and suit myself
As does a Briton peasant: so I'll fight
Against the part I come with; so I'll die
For thee, O Imogen, even for whom my life
Is, every breath, a death: and thus, unknown,
Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril
Myself I'll dedicate. Let me make men know
More valour in me than my habits shew.
Gods, put the strength o'the Leonati in me!
To shame the guise o' the world, I will begin
The fashion less without, and more within. [Exit.

SCENE II.-The same.

Enter, at one side, LUCIUS, IACHIMO, and the Roman army; at the other side, the British army; LEONATUS POSTHUMUS following it, like a poor

Soldier. They march over, and go out. Alarums. Then enter again in skirmish, IACHIMO and POSTHUMUS; he vanquisheth and disarmeth IACHIMO, and then leaves him.

Iach. The heaviness and guilt within my bosom
Takes off my manhood: I have belied a lady,
The princess of this country, and the air on 't
Revengingly enfeebles me; or could this carl,
A very drudge of nature's, have subdued me
In my profession? Knighthoods and honours,
borne

As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn.
If that thy gentry, Britain, go before
This lout, as he exceeds our lords, the odds
Is that we scarce are men, and you are gods.
[Exit.

The battle continues; the Britons fly; CYMBELINE is taken; then enter, to his rescue, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.

Bel. Stand, stand! We have the advantage of the ground;

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

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 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 turned

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'er-borne i' the former wave: ten, chaced by

one,

Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty:

To have saved their carcasses? took heel to do 't, And yet died too? I, in mine own woe charmed, Could not find Death where I did hear him groan, Nor feel him where he struck: being an ugly monster,

'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 favourer 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 slaugh-
ter is

Here made by the Romans; great the answer

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 for ever! 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.

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
"T is not so dear, yet 't is 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. O Imogen! I'll speak to thee in silence.

[He sleeps.