Enter LUCIUS, a Captain, and other Officers, and a Soothsayer. Cap. To them the legions garrison'd in Gallia, After your will, have cross'd the sea: attending You here at Milford-Haven, with your ships: They are here in readiness. Luc. But what from Rome? Cap. The senate hath stirr'd up the cónfiners, And gentlemen of Italy; most willing spirits, That promise noble service: and they come Under the conduct of bold Iachimo, Sienna's brother. Luc. When expect you them? Cap. With the next benefit o'the wind. Luc. Makes our hopes fair. numbers This forwardness Command, our present Be muster'd; bid the captains look to't. Now, sir, What have you dream'd, of late, of this war's purpose? Sooth. Last night the very gods show'd me a vision: (I fast, and pray'd, for their intelligence,) Thus :→→→ I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd, From the spongy south to this part of the west, There vanish'd in the sunbeams: which portends, (Unless my sins abuse my divination,) Success to the Roman host. Without his top? The ruin speaks, that sometime It was a worthy building. How! a page! Or dead, or sleeping on him? But dead, rather: With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead. Cap. He is alive, my lord.. Luc. He'll then instruct us of this body.-Young one, Inform us of thy fortunes; for, it seems, They crave to be demanded: Who is this, Hath alter'd that good picture? What's thy in terest In this sad wreck? How came it? Who is it? Imo. I am nothing or if not, Nothing to be were better. This was my master, A very valiant Briton, and a good, That here by mountaineers lies slain : Alas! There are no more such masters: I may wander Try many, all good, serve truly, never Find such another master. Luc. 'Lack, good youth! Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining, than Imo. Fidele. Luc. Thou dost approve thyself the very same: Thy name well fits thy faith; thy faith, thy name. Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say, Thou shalt be so well master'd; but, be sure, No less belov'd. The Roman emperor's letters, Sent by a consul to me, should not sooner Than thine own worth prefer thee: Go with me. Imo. I'll follow, sir. But first, an't please the gods, I'll hide my master from the flies, as deep As these poor pickaxes' can dig: and when With wild wood-leaves and weeds I have strew'd his grave, And on it said a century of prayers, Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep, and sigh; 7 Her fingers. And, leaving so his service, follow you, Luc. Ay, good youth; The boy hath taught us manly duties: Let us As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes: Some falls are means the happier to arise. [Exeunt. SCENE III. A Room in Cymbeline's Palace. Enter CYMBELINE, Lords, and PISANIO. Cym. Again; and bring me word, how 'tis with her. A fever with the absence of her son; A madness, of which her life's in danger: How deeply you at once do touch me! Imogen, When fearful wars point at me; her son gone, Pis. Nor when she purposes return. highness, Hold me your loyal servant. 1 Lord. 'Beseech your Good, my liege, The day that she was missing, he was here: For Cloten, There wants no diligence in seeking him, Cym. We'll slip you for a season; but our jealousy The time's troublesome [TO PISANIO. Does yet depend. Cym. Now for the counsel of my son, and queen! Good my liege, Your preparation can affront no less Than what you hear of: come more, for more you're ready : The want is, but to put those powers in motion, Cym. We grieve at chances here.. Away. [Exeunt. Pis. I heard no letter from my master, since I wrote him, Imogen was slain: 'Tis strange: Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise To yield me often tidings; Neither know I What is betid to Cloten; but remain * Confounded by a variety of business. 9 Encounter Perplex'd in all. The heavens still must work: Wherein I am false, I am honest; not true, to be true. These present wars shall find I love my country, Even to the note' o'the king, 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 IV. Before the Cave. Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS. Gui. The noise is round about us. Bel. Let us from it. Arv. What pleasure, sir, find we in life, to lock it From action and adventure? Gui. Nay, what hope Have we in hiding us? this way, the Romans During their use, and slay us after. Bel. Sons, We'll higher to the mountains; there secure us. To the king's party there's no going: newness Of Cloten's death (we being not known, not muster'd Among the bands) may drive us to a render Where we have liv'd; and so extort from us That which we've done, whose answer would be death |