Arv.

So say I; amen.
Bel. No reason I, since of your lives you set

So slight a valuation, should reserve
My crack'd one to more care.

boys!

Have with you,

50

If in your country wars you chance to die,
That is my bed too, lads, and there I'll lie.
Lead, lead! [Aside.] The time seems long; their

blood thinks scorn

Till it fly out and show them princes born.

Exeunt.

ACT FIFTH

SCENE I

[Britain. The Roman camp.]

Enter Posthumus [with a bloody handkerchief].

Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee, for I wish'd

Thou shouldst be colour'd thus. You married

ones,

If each of you should take this course, how

many

Must murder wives much better than them

selves

For wrying but a little! O Pisanio!

Every good servant does not all commands;

No bond but to do just ones.

Gods! if you

5

Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I

never

10

Had liv'd to put on this; so had you saved
The noble Imogen to repent, and struck
Me, wretch, more worth your vengeance. But,

alack,

You snatch some hence for little faults; that's

love,

To have them fall no more: you some per

mit

To second ills with ills, each elder worse,

15

And make them dread it, to the doers' thrift.
But Imogen is your own ; do your best

wills,

And make me blest 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!

20

I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good heavens,

25

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 show.
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.

30

SCENE II

[Field of battle between the British and Roman camps.]

Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and the Roman Army at one door; and the Briton Army at another; Leonatus Posthumus following, like a poor soldier. They march over and go out. 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 subdu'd 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

5

Is that we scarce are men and you are gods. 10

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 villainy of our fears.

Gui.

Arv.

Stand, stand, and fight!

Re-enter Posthumus, and seconds the Britons. They rescue Cymbeline, and exeunt. Then re-enter Lucius, Iachimo, and Imogen.

Luc. Away, boy, from the troops, and save thy

Iach.

self;

For friends kill friends, and the disorder's

such

As war were hoodwink'd.

15

"Tis their fresh supplies.

Luc. It is a day turn'd strangely. Or betimes

Let's reinforce, or fly.

Exeunt.

SCENE III

[Another part of the field.]

Enter Posthumus and a Briton Lord.

Lord. Cam'st thou from where they made the

Post.

Lord.

stand?

I did;

Though you, it seems, come from the fliers.

Post. No blame be to you, sir, for all was lost,

I did.