Luc. 'Lack, good youth!

Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining, than Thy master in bleeding: Say, thy name, good boy. Imog. Fidele, sir.

Luc. Thy name well fits thy faith :

Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say,
Thou shalt be so well master'd; but, be sure,
No less beloved.

Go with me.

Imog. I'll follow, sir. But, first, an't please the gods,

I'll hide my master from the flies, as deep

As these poor pick-axes can dig: and when

With wild-wood leaves, and weeds, I have strew'd his

grave,

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.

Luc. 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 partizans,
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.

[As the SOLDIERS are taking up the Body, the
Curtain falls.

ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I.

The Forest.

Drums, Trumpets, &c. ·

Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS,

Guid. The noise is round about us.
Bel. 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 being not known, nor muster'd
Among the bands), may drive us to a render
Where we have lived; and so extort from us
That, which we have done, whose answer would be
death,

Drawn on with torture.

Guid. This is, sir, a doubt,

In such a time, nothing becoming you,

Nor satisfying us.

Arv. 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.

Bel. 0, I am known Of many in the army:

And, besides, the King

Hath not deserved my service nor your loves.
Guid. 'Pray, sir, to the army:

I and my brother are not known; yourself,
So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown,
Cannot be question'd.

Arv. By this sun that shines,

I'll thither! What thing is it, that I never
Did see man die ! scarce ever look'd on blood,
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison !
I am ashamed

To look upon the holy sun, to have

The benefit of his bless'd beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.

Guid. By Heavens, I'll go !

If you will bless me, sir, and give me leave,
I'll take the better care; but if you will not,
The hazard therefore due, fall on me, by
The hands of Romans!

Ary. So say I; Amen!

Bel. No reason I, since on your lives So slight a valuation, should reserve

you set

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 lie. [Exeunt.

Drums, Trumpets, &c.

SCENE II.

A Plain, between the British and Roman Camps.

Enter POSTHUMUS, with a bloody Handkerchief. 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 would take this course, how many
Must murder wives much better than themselves,
For wrying but a little !-O, Pisanio!

Every good servant does not all commands:
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 saved
The noble Imogen to repent; and struck
Me,-wretch!-more worth your vengeance.—
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 have conceal'd
My Italian weeds, under this semblance of

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.

[Drums, Trumpets, &c. 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.

[Drums, Trumpets, &c.-Exit.

SCENE III.

The Field of Battle.

Alarums.

An Engagement between the Britons and the Romans— the Britons are repulsed.

Enter POSTHUMUS and IACHIMO, fighting.-IACHIMO is disarmed.

Post. Or yield thee, Roman, or thou diest !
Iach. Peasant, behold my breast!

Post. No; take thy life, and mend it.

[Exit.

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 subdued me In my profession? Knighthoods and honours, borne As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn.

With Heaven against me, what is sword or shield? My guilt, my guilt o'erpowers me, and I yield.

[Drums, Trumpets, &c.-Exit.

An Engagement between the Britons and the Romans, in which the Romans fly before BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGUS,