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But Imogen is your own: Do your best wills,
SCENE II. The same.
Enter at one side, Lucius, IACHIMO, and the Ro
man 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. Iach. The heaviness and guilt within my
bosom Takes off
manhood: I have belied a lady, The princess of this country, and the air on't Revengingly enfeebles me; Or could this carl",
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,
LINE is taken : then enter to his rescue, BELA-
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.
"Tis their fresh supplies. Luc. It is a day turn'd strangely: or betimes Let's reinforce, 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? Post.
I did: Though you,
seems, come from the fliers. churlyshnesse by vilainie, rusticité. The thought seems to have been imitated in Philaster :
• The gods take part against me; could this boor
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 pass was damm’d With dead mer, 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 ), 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 bis 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,
way that they did, and to grin like lions
This was strange chance:
Post. Nay, do not wonder at it: You are made
* i. e. terrors, bugbears. See King Henry VI. Part 111. Act v. Sc. 2, p. 371 :
• For Warwick was a bug that fear'd us all.' VOL. IX.
Lord. Nay, be not angry, sir.
'Lack, to what end?
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 sæv'd their carcasses? took heel to do't, And yet died too? I, in mine own woe charm’d", Could not find death, where I did hear him groan; Norfeel 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 o 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.'