Guid. Than be fo,

Better to cease to be.

I and my brother are

Pray, fir, to the army:
not known: yourfelf,

So out of thought, and thereto fo' o'ergrown,
Cannot be question'd.

Arv. By this fun that fhines,

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 venifon?
Never beftrid 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 fun, to have
The benefit of his bleft beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.

If

Guid. By heavens, I'll go :

you will bless me, fir, 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!

Arv. So fay I; Amen.

Bel. No reafon I, fince of lives fet

your

So flight a valuation, should reserve

you

My crack'd one to more care. Have with you, boys;

If in your country wars you chance to die,

That is my bed too, lads, and there I'll lie :

Lead, lead. The time feems long; their blood thinks

fcorn,

'Till it fly out, and fhew them princes born.

[Afide. [Exeunt.

o'ergrown,]-in beard.

ACT V. SCENE I

A Field, between the British and Roman Camps.

Enter Pofthumus, with a bloody handkerchief.

Poft. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for I wifh'd Thou should'st be colour'd thus. You married ones, If each of you would take this course, how many Muft murder wives much better than themselves

i

For wrying but a little ?-O, 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 faved
The noble Imogen to repent; and ftruck

Me, wretch, more worth your vengeance. But, alack,
You fnatch fome hence for little faults; that's love,

To have them fall no more: you fome permit

m

To fecond ills with ills, each elder worfe;

And make them dread it,

But Imogen is your own:

to the doers' thrift.

Do your best wills,

And make me bleft to obey !I am brought hither
Among the Italian gentry, and to fight

Against my lady's kingdom: 'Tis enough

That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistress; peace!

hbloody clotb,]-the token of Imogen's death, fent by Pifanio. wrying-twerving, fraying.

* Every good fervan:] It is the curfe of kings," &c. KING JOHN, Act IV. S. 2. K. Jokn.

A&

1 to put on]-to inftigate to. m each clder worfe ; &c.]-each deed of an old finner being worfe than the preceding; till at length, pierced with a review of their accumulated enormities, they become exemplary penitents,

I'll give no wound to thee.
Hear patiently my purpose: I'll difrobe me
Of these Italian weeds, and fuit myself
As does a Briton peafant: fo I'll fight
Against the part I come with; fo I'll die
For thee, O Imogen, even for whom my
life
Is, every breath, a death: and thus, unknown,
Pity'd nor hated, to the face of peril
Myfelf I'll dedicate. Let me make men know
More valour in me than my habits fhow.
Gods, put the ftrength o' the Leonati in me!
To fhame" the guife o' the world, I will begin
The fashion, lefs without, and more within.

Therefore, good heavens,

[Exit.

Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and the Roman army at one door; and the British army at another; Leonatus Pofthumus following it 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.

carle,

Iach. The heavinefs, and guilt, within my bofom
Takes off my manhood: I have bely'd a lady,
The princefs of this country, and the air on't
Revengingly enfeebles me; Or could this
A very drudge of nature's, have fubdu'd me,
In my profeffion? 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 fcarce are men, and you are gods.

[Exit.

the guife]-the custom, practice.

· carle,]-cburl-clown, ruftic, boor,

The

The battle continues; the Britons fly; Cymbeline is taken: then enter to his refcue, Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.

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

The lane is guarded:. nothing routs us, but

The villainy of our fears.

Guid. Ary. Stand, ftand, and fight!

Enter Pofthumus, and feconds the Britons. They refcue Cym beline, 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 hood-wink'd.

Iach. 'Tis their fresh fupplies.

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

[Exeunt.

Another Part of the Field.

Enter Pofthumus, and a British Lord.

Lord. Cam'ft thou from where they made the stand? Poft. I did:

Though you, it feems, come from the fliers.

Lord. I did.

Poft. No blame be to you, fir; for all was loft,
But that the heavens fought: The king himself
Of his wings deftitute, the army broken,
And but the backs of Britons feen, all flying

Of his wings deftitute,]-Could not escape.

Through

Through a strait lane; the enemy full-hearted,
Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work
More plentiful than tools to do't, ftruck down
Some mortally, fome flightly touch'd, fome falling
Merely through fear; that the ftrait pass was damm'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 his country; athwart the lane,
He, with two striplings, (lads more like to run
The country bafe, than to commit fuch flaughter;
With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer
Than those for prefervation cas'd, or fhame)
Made good the paffage; cry'd to those that fled,
Our Britain's barts 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 beastly; 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 rest do nothing) with this word, stand, stand,
Accommodated by the place, more charming

With their own nobleness, (which could have turn'd
A diftaff to a lance) gilded pale looks,

Part, fhame, part, fpirit renew'd; that fome, turn'd coward

damm'd]-clofed up.

a breeding,]-a life, a time to live again. athwart the lane,]-throwing himself across the lane. to run the country bafe,]-to play at prifon base.

Two GENTLEMEN OF VERONA, Vol. I. p. 96. Luc. confident,]-in boldness.

But