But Imogen is your own: Do your best wills,
And make me bless'd 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!
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 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. [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.

bosom

Iach. The heaviness and guilt within my 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 carl1,

1 Carl or churl (ceonl, Sax.), is a clown or countryman, and is used by our old writers in opposition to a gentleman. Palsgrave, in his Eclaircissement de la Langue Françoise, 1530, explains the words carle, chorle, churle, by vilain, vilain lourdier; and

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
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.

Gui. Arv.

Stand, stand, and fight!

Enter POSTHUMUS, and seconds the Britons: They rescue CYMBELINE, and exeunt.

LUCIUS, IACHIMO, and IMOGEN.

Then, enter

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 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 British Lord. Lord. Cam'st thou from where they made the stand? Post. Though you,

it seems, come from the fliers.

I did:

churlyshnesse by vilainie, rusticité. The thought seems to have been imitated in Philaster :

:

The gods take part against me; could this boor
Have held me thus else?'

Lord.

I did.

Post. No blame be to you, sir; for all was lost, But that the heavens fought: The king himself Of his wings destitute', the army broken, And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying Through a strait lane; the enemy full-hearted, Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work More plentiful than tools to do't, struck down Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some falling Merely through fear; that the strait damm'd pass was With dead men, hurt behind, and cowards living 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,
In doing this for his country;-athwart the lane,
He, with two striplings (lads more like to run
The country base, then to commit such slaughter;
With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer
Than those for preservation cas'd, or shame 3),
Made good the passage; cry'd to those that fled,
Our Britain's hearts 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,

1 The stopping of the Roman army by three persons is an allusion to the story of the Hays, as related by Holinshed in his History of Scotland, p. 155; upon which Milton once intended to have formed a drama. Shakspeare was evidently acquainted with it: Haie beholding the king, with the most part of the nobles fighting with great valiancie in the middle-ward, now destitute of the wings,' &c.

2 A country game called prison bars, vulgarly prison-base. See vol. i. p. 108, note 9.

3 Shame for modesty, or shamefacedness.

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 turn'd
A distaff to a lance), gilded pale looks,

Part, shame, part, spirit renew'd; that some, turn'd coward

But by example (O, a sin in war,

Damn'd 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 stoop'd 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'erborne i' the former wave: ten, chas'd by one,
Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty:
Those, that would die or ere resist, are grown
The mortal bugs1 o'the field.

Lord.
This was strange chance:
A narrow lane! an old man, and two boys!

Post. Nay, do not wonder at it: You are made Rather to wonder at the things you hear,

Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon't,
And vent it for a mockery? Here is one:
Two boys, an old man twice a boy, a lane,
Preserv'd the Britons, was the Romans' bane.

4i. e. terrors, bugbears. See King Henry VI. Part III. Act v. Sc. 2, p. 371:

'For Warwick was a bug that fear'd us all.'

sir.

'Lack, to what end?

Lord. Nay, be not angry,

Post.

Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his friend:

For if he'll do, as he is made to do,

I know, he'll quickly fly my friendship too.
You have put me into rhyme.

Lord.

Farewell, you are angry. [Exit. Post. Still going?-This is a lord! O noble misery!

To be i'the field, and ask, what news, of me!
To-day, how many would have given their honours
To have sav'd their carcasses? took heel to do't,
And yet died too? I, in mine own woe charm'd5,
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 resum'd 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 slaughter is
Here made by the Roman; great the answer be
Britons must take; For me, my ransome's death;
On either side I come to spend my breath;
Which neither here I'll keep, nor bear again,
But end it by some means for Imogen.

Enter Two British Captains, and Soldiers.

1 Cap. Great Jupiter be prais'd! Lucius is taken: 'Tis thought, the old man and his sons were angels.

5 Alluding to the common superstition of charms being powerful enough to keep men unhurt in battle. See vol. iv. p. 322, note 6.

6 i. e. retaliation. As in a former scene, p. 115, line 1 :

That which we've done, whose answer would be death.'