Re-enter BELARIUS, with the Body of Cloten. Gui. We have done our obsequies : come lay

him down. Bel. Here's a few flowers; but about midnight,

more : The herbs that have on them cold dew o' the

night, Are strewings fitt'st for graves.—Upon their

faces : You were as flowers, now withered : even so These herblets shall, which we upon you strow.Come on, away: apart upon our knees. The ground, that gave them first, has them

again : Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain.

[Exeunt Belarius, GUIDerius, and

ARVIRAGUS.

Imo. (awaking.] Yes, sir, to Milford-Haven ;

which is the way?I thank you.—By yon bush? Pray, how far

thither? 'Ods pittikens! can it be six miles yet? I have gone all night.— 'Faith, I 'll lie down and

sleep. But soft! no bedfellow.-0, gods and goddesses !

[Seeing the body. These flowers are like the pleasures of the world; This bloody man the care on’t.— I hope I dream; For so I thought I was a cave-keeper, And cook to honest creatures : but 't is not so; 'T was but a bolt of nothing, shot at nothing, Which the brain makes of fumes : our very eyes Are sometimes like our judgments, blind. Good

faith, I tremble still with fear: but if there be Yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity As a wren's eye, feared gods, a part of it! The dream 's here still : even when I wake it is Without me, as within me; not imagined, felt. A headless man! The garments of Posthumus ! I know the shape of his legs: this is his hand; His foot Mercurial ; his Martial thigh ; The brawns of Hercules : but his Jovial faceMurder in heaven? How? 't is gone.—Pisanio, All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks, And mine to boot, be darted on thee! Thou, Conspired with that irregulous devil, Cloten, Hast here cut off my lord.— To write and read Be henceforth treacherous !— Damned Pisanio

Hath with his forgéd letters,—damned Pisanio,From this most bravest vessel of the world Struck the main-top !-O Posthumus! alas, Where is thy head? where's that? Ah me! where's

that? Pisanio might have killed thee at the heart, And left this head on.- -How should this be?

Pisanio? "Tis he and Cloten: malice and lucre in them Have laid this woe here. O, 't is pregnant, preg

nant! The drug he gave me, which he said was pre

cious And cordial to me, have I not found it Murderous to the senses ? that confirms it home: This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten's! O! Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood, That we the horrider may seem to those Which chance to find us. O, my lord, my lord !

Сар.
He is alive, my

lord. Luc. He'll then instruct us of this body.-Young

one, Inform us of thy fortunes; for it seems They crave to be demanded. Who is this Thou mak’st thy bloody pillow? or who was he That, otherwise than noble nature did, Hath altered that good picture? What's thy

interest In this sad wreck? how came it? who is it? What art thou?

Imo. I am nothing: or if not, Nothing to be were better. This was my master, A very valiant Briton, and a good, That here by mountaineers lies slain.—Alas! There are no more such masters: I may wander From east to occident, cry out for service, Try many, all good, serve truly, never Find such another master.

Luc. 'Lack, good youth, Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining, than Thy master in bleeding: say his name, good

friend. Imo. Richard du Champ.—If I do lie, and do No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope They 'll pardon it (aside). Say you, sir ? Luc.

Thy name? Imo.

Fidele, sir. Luc. Thou dost approve thyself the very same: Thy name well fits thy faith; thy faith thy

Enter Lucius, a Captain, and other Officers, and

a Soothsayer. Cap. To them, the legions garrisoned in Gallia, After your will, have crossed the sea; attending You here at Milford-Haven, with your ships : They are here in readiness.

Luc. But what from Rome?

Cap. The senate hath stirred up the confiners,
And gentlemen of Italy; most willing spirits,
That promise noble service; and they come
Under the conduct of bold lachimo,
Sienna's brother.

Luc. When expect you them?
Cap. With the next benefit o'the wind.

Luc. This forwardness
Makes our hopes fair. Command our present

numbers Be mustered; bid the captains look to't.-Now,

sir, What have you dreamed of late, of this war's pur

name.

Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say
Thou shalt be so well mastered; but be sure,
No less beloved. The Roman emperor's letters,
Sent by a consul to me, should not sooner
Than thine own worth prefer thee: go with me.
Imo. I'll follow, sir. But first, an't please the

gods,
I'll hide my master from the flies, as deep
As these poor pickaxes can dig: and when
With wild wood-leaves and weeds I have strewed

pose ?

his grave,

Sooth. Last night the very gods shewed me a

vision (I fast' and prayed for their intelligence): Thus: I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, winged From the spongy south to this part of the west, There vanished in the sunbeams : which portends (Unless my sins abuse my divination) Success to the Roman host.

Luc. Dream often so, And never false.—Soft, ho! what trunk is here, Without his top? The ruin speaks that sometime It was a worthy building.—How! a page! Or dead, or sleeping on him? But dead, rather : For nature doth abhor to make his bed With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead. Let's see the boy's face.

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 partisans
A grave: come, arm him.—Boy, he is preferred
By thee to us; and he shall be interred
As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes:
Some falls are means the happier to arise.

[Exeunt

Aro. By this sun tnat shines,
I'll thither. What thing is it that I never
Did see man die ? scarce ever looked on blood,
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison?
Never bestrid a horse, save one, that had
A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel
Nor iron on his heel? I am ashamed
To look upon the holy sun, to have
The benefit of his blessed beams, remaining
So long a poor

unknown.
Gui. 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, py
The hands of Romans !

Arv. So say I: amen.

Bel. No reason I, since on your lives you set So slight a valuation, should reserve My cracked 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: Lead, lead !—The time seems long; their blood thinks scorn,

[Aside Till it fly out, and shew them princcs born.

(Exerint.

SCENE I.-A Field between the British and Roman

Camps.

Enter Posthumus, with a bloody handkerchief. Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I 'll keep thee; for I

wished Thou shouldst be coloured thus. You married

ones, If each of you would take this course, how many Must murder wives much better than them

selves, 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, 1

And make me blessed to obey !-I am brought

hither Among the Italian gentry, and to fight Against my lady's kingdom : 't is 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 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 shew. 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.

a

life

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

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 doer's thrift. But Imogen is your own. Do your best wills,

Scene II.—The same.

Enter, at one side, Lucius, Lachimo, and the Ro

man army; at the other side, the British army; Leonatus Posthumus following it, like a poor