Me, wretch, more worth your vengeance. And make me bless'd to obey! - I am brought hither Against my lady's kingdom: 't is enough That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistress; peace! SCENE II. The Same. [Exit. Enter at one Side, LUCIUS, IACHIMO, and the Roman Army: at the other Side, the British Army; LEONATUS POSTHUMUS following 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. lach. The heaviness and guilt within my bosom A very drudge of nature's, have subdu'd me In my profession? Knighthoods and honours, borne 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 ARVI RAGUS. Bel. Stand, stand! We have the advantage of the ground. The lane is guarded: nothing routs us, but The villainy of our fears. Gui. Arv. Stand, stand, and fight! Enter POSTHUMUS, and seconds the Britons; they rescue CYMBELINE, 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. 'T is their fresh supplies. [Exeunt. Luc. It is a day turn'd strangely or betimes Let's re-enforce, or fly. SCENE III. Another Part of the Field. Enter POSTHUMUS and a British Lord. Lord. Cam'st thou from where they made the stand? Though you, it seems, come from the fliers. Lord. I did; I did. Post. No blame be to you, Sir; for all was lost, But that the heavens fought. The king himself all flying Of his wings destitute, the army broken, Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work To die with lengthen'd shame. Lord. Where was this lane? Post. Close by the battle, ditch'd, and wall'd with turf; Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier, An honest one, I warrant; who deserv'd So long a breeding, as his white beard came to, Like beasts, which you shun beastly, and may save, (For three performers are the file, when all The rest do nothing) with this word, "stand, stand!" With their own nobleness, (which could have turn'd Part shame, part spirit renew'd; that some, turn'd coward Damn'd in the first beginners!) 'gan to look A rout, confusion thick forthwith they fly, Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles; slaves, (Like fragments in hard voyages) became The life o' the need: having found the back-door open The mortal bugs o' the field. Lord. A narrow lane, an old man, This was strange chance : Post. Nay, do not wonder at it: you are made Post. 'Lack! to what end? Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his friend; I know, he'll quickly fly my friendship too. Lord. Farewell; you are angry. Post. Still going? — This is a lord. O noble misery! Well, I will find him; For being now a favourer to the Briton, VI. [Exit. 513 Great the slaughter is my ransom 's death: Once touch my shoulder. Enter Two British Captains, and Soldiers. 1 Cap. But none of them can be found. Post. A Roman, So 't is reported; Stand! who is there? Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds 2 Cap. Lay hands on him; a dog! A leg of Rome shall not return to tell What crows have peck'd them here. He brags his service Enter CYMBELINE, attended; BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, Arvi- SCENE IV. A Prison. Enter POSTHUMUS, and Two Jailers. 1 Jail. You shall not now be stolen; you have locks 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 |