Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.
Enter Posthumus alone.
Post. Yea bloody cloth, Ile keep thee: for I am wisht Thou should'st be colour'd thus. You married ones, If each of you should take this course, how many Must murther Wiues much better then themselues For wrying but a little? Oh Pisanio, Euery good Seruant do's not all Commands: No Bond, but to do iust ones. Gods, if you Should haue 'tane vengeance on my faults, I neuer Had liu'd to put on this: so had you saued The noble Imogen, to repent, and strooke Me (wretch) more worth your Vengeance. But alacke, You snatch some hence for little faults; that's loue To haue them fall no more: you some permit To second illes with illes, each elder worse, And make them dread it, to the dooers thrift. But Imogen is your owne, do your best willes, And make me blest to obey. I am brought hither Among th' Italian Gentry, and to fight Against my Ladies Kingdome: 'Tis enough That (Britaine) I haue kill'd thy Mistris: Peace, Ile giue no wound to thee: therefore good Heauens, Heare patiently my purpose. Ile disrobe me Of these Italian weedes, and suite my selfe As do's a Britaine Pezant: so Ile fight Against the part I come with: so Ile dye For thee (O Imogen) euen for whom my life Is euery breath, a death: and thus, vnknowne, Pittied, nor hated, to the face of perill My selfe Ile dedicate. Let me make men know More valour in me, then my habits show. Gods, put the strength o'th'Leonati in me: To shame the guize o'th' world, I will begin, The fashion lesse without, and more within. Enter.
Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and the Romane Army at one doore: and the Britaine Army at another: Leonatus Posthumus following like a poore Souldier. They march ouer, and goe out. Then enter againe in Skirmish Iachimo and Posthumus: he vanquisheth and disarmeth Iachimo, and then leaues him.
Iac. The heauinesse and guilt within my bosome, Takes off my manhood: I haue belyed a Lady, The Princesse of this Country; and the ayre on't Reuengingly enfeebles me, or could this Carle, A very drudge of Natures, haue subdu'de me In my profession? Knighthoods, and Honors borne As I weare mine) are titles but of scorne. If that thy Gentry (Britaine) go before This Lowt, as he exceeds our Lords, the oddes Is, that we scarse are men, and you are Goddes. Enter.
The Battaile continues, the Britaines fly, Cymbeline is taken: Then enter to his rescue, Bellarius, Guiderius, and Aruiragus.
Bel. Stand, stand, we haue th' aduantage of the ground, The Lane is guarded: Nothing rowts vs, but The villany of our feares
Gui. Arui. Stand, stand, and fight. Enter Posthumus, and seconds the Britaines. They Rescue Cymbeline, and Exeunt.
Then enter Lucius, Iachimo, and Imogen.
Luc. Away boy from the Troopes, and saue thy selfe: For friends kil friends, and the disorder's such As warre were hood-wink'd
Iac. 'Tis their fresh supplies
Luc. It is a day turn'd strangely: or betimes Let's re-inforce, or fly.
Enter Posthumus, and a Britaine Lord.
Lor. Cam'st thou from where they made the stand? Post. I did, Though you it seemes come from the Fliers? Lo. I did
Post. No blame be to you Sir, for all was lost, But that the Heauens fought: the King himselfe Of his wings destitute, the Army broken, And but the backes of Britaines seene; all flying Through a strait Lane, the Enemy full-heart'd, Lolling the Tongue with slaught'ring: hauing worke More plentifull, then Tooles to doo't: strooke downe Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some falling Meerely through feare, that the strait passe was damm'd With deadmen, hurt behinde, and Cowards liuing To dye with length'ned shame