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As these poor pickaxes can dig; and when
With wild wood-leaves and weeds I have strew'd his

And on it said a century of prayers,
Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep, and sigh;
And, leaving so his service, follow you,

So please you entertain me. (hanging over the body) LUCIUS.

Ay, good youth;
And rather father thee than master thee.
My friends,
The boy hath taught us manly duties. Let us
Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can,
And make him with our pikes and partisans
A grave. Come; arm him.-Boy, he is preferr'd
By thee to us; and he shall be interr'd
As soldiers can. Be cheerful ; wipe thine eyes.
Some falls are means the happier to arise.
Dead MarchThe SOLDIERS begin to raise the body.

Tableau, and


SCENE First.-A Wood. (1st grooves)

GUID. The noise is round about us.

Let us from it.
We'll higher to the mountains; there secure us.
To the king's party there's no going: newness
Of Cloten's death (we beirg not known, not muster'd
Among the bands) may drive us to a render
Where we have liv'd; and so extort from us that
Which we have done, whose answer would be death

Drawn on with torture.

This is, sir, a doubt

In such a time nothing becoming you,

Nor satisfying us.

It is not likely
That when they hear the Roman horses neigh,
Behold their quarter'd fires, have both their eyes
And ears so cloy'd importantly as now,
That they will waste their time upon our note,

To know from whence we are.

O, I am known
Of many in the army: many years,
Though Cloten then but young, you see, not wore him

my remembrance. And, besides, the king Hath not deserv'd my service, nor your loves. Guid.

Pray, sir, to the army;
I and


brother are not known; yourself So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown,

Cannot be question'd.

By this sun that shines,
I'll thither: I am ashain'd to have
The benefit of his bless'd beams, remaining

So long a poor unknown.

By heavens, I'll go :

will bless me, sir, and give me leave,
I'll take the better care; but if you
The hazard therefore due fall on me, by

The hands of Romans !

So say I; Amen.
BELAR. No reason I, since of your lives you set

So slight a valuation, should reserve
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 lic.

Exeunt, R. Enter POSTHUMUS, with a bloody handkerchief, L. Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for I wish'd Thou should'st be colour'd thus. You married

ones, If each of you should take this course,


Must murther wives much better than themselves,
For wrying but a little !-0, Pisanio!
Every good servant does not all cominands;

will not,

No bond, but to do just ones.—Gods ! if you
Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I never
Had lived to put on this: so had you sav'd
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 permit
To second ills with ills, each elder worse,
And make them dread it, to the doers' thrift.
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 killed 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 of the Leonati in me!
To shame the guise o' the world, I will begin
The fashion-less without, and more within. Exit, Bro


Enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, and the Roman ARMY, R., fighting the

BRITISH ARMYthey go out, L.then enter Iachimo and POSTHUMUS, (dressed like a Briton) hevanquishes, disarms and strikes down Iachimo, and then leaves him, going

off, R.
IACHIMO. 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 subdued me,

In my profession? Knighthoods and honours, borne

As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn. Exit, L. The battle continuesthe Britons fly-CYMBELINE is taken

- then enter, to his rescue, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS, R. POSTHUMUS enters and seconds the Britons - they rescue CYMBELINE, and beat of the ROMANS, L.

SCENE THIRD. Same as Scene First.

Enter POSTHUMUS, as a Roman soldier, R.
Post. To-day, how many would have given their honours

To have sav'd their carcases ? 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;
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 Briton,
No more a Briton, I have resumed 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 ransom'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.

LOCRINE. Great Jupiter be praised! Lucius is taken:

'Tis thought the old man and his sons were angels. 2nd Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly habit,

That gave the affront with them.

So 'tis reported :
But none of them can be found. - Stand! who is


Post. A Roman;

Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds

Had answered him. 2ND CAP.

Lay hands on him; a dog!
A leg of Rome shall not return to tell
What crows have pecked them here: he brags his

As if he were of note : bring him to the king.

They seize POSTHUMUS, and exeunt, R.

SCENE FOURTH.-Cymbeline's Tent; opening, R. C.

Flourish-CYMBELINE discovered, c., BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS,


CYMBEL. Stand by my side, you whom the gods have made

Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart,
That the poor soldier that so richly fought,
Whose rags sham'd gilded arms, whose naked breast
Stepp'd before targes of proof, cannot be found :
He shall be happy that can find him, if

Our grace can make him so.
PISAN. (R. C.) He hath been searched among the dead and

But no trace of him.

To my grief, I am
The heir of his reward ; which I will add
To you the liver, heart, and brain of Britain,

(to BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ArviraGUS) By whom I grant she lives :-'T is now the time

To ask of whence you are :-report it.

In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen :
Further to boast were neither true nor modest,

Unless I add, we are honest.

Bow your knees : (they kneel, L. C.-he rises and touches them on the

shoulder with the flat of his sword)

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