An honest one, I warrant; who deserv'd So long a breeding, as his white beard came to, Like beasts, which you shun beastly, and may save, Three thousand confident, in act as many, (For three performers are the file, when all The rest do nothing) with this word, "stand, stand!" With their own nobleness, (which could have turn'd Part shame, part spirit renew'd; that some, turn'd coward But by example (O, a sin in war, Damn'd in the first beginners!) 'gan to look A rout, confusion thick: forthwith they fly, The life o' the need: having found the back-door open 1 The country BASE,] i. e. The country game of prison-base, or prison-bars, mentioned by many old writers by the name of base; but by Drayton in his “Polyolbion,” Song 30, called “prison-base.” O'er-borne i' the former wave: ten chac'd by one, Lord. This was strange chance: A narrow lane, an old man, and two boys! Post. Nay, do not wonder at it: you are made Post. 'Lack! to what end? Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his friend; For if he'll do, as he is made to do, I know, he'll quickly fly my friendship too. Lord. 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 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, 2 The mortal BUGS o' the field.] The mortal terrors of the field. See Vol. iii. p. 134; Vol. v. p. 323. In "Hamlet," Vol. vii. p. 334, "bugs" and "goblins' are coupled. But yield me to the veriest hind, that shall 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. 2 Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly habit, That gave th' affront with them. 1 Cap. So 'tis reported; But none of them can be found.-Stand! who is there? Post. A Roman, Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds Had answer'd him. 2 Cap. Lay hands on him; a dog! A leg of Rome shall not return to tell What crows have peck'd them here. He brags his service As if he were of note. Bring him to the king. Enter CYMBELINE, attended; BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, and Roman Captives. The Captains present POSTHUMUS to CYMBELINE, who delivers him over to a Jailer; after which, all go out3. 3 after which, all go out.] It was not unusual on our old stage to begin a scene with a dumb show, as scene of this Act; but it was by no means common to terminate a scene in this way. Ritson was evidently mistaken, when he said that "the business of the scene was entirely performed in dumb show," unless he considered the dumb show a scene by itself. SCENE IV. A Prison. Enter POSTHUMUS, and Two Jailers. 1 Jail. You shall not now be stolen; you have locks upon you: So, graze as you find pasture. 2 Jail. Ay, or a stomach. Post. Most welcome, bondage, for thou art a way I think, to liberty. Yet am I better Than one that's sick o' the gout; since he had rather Groan so in perpetuity, than be cur'd By the sure physician, death, who is the key T'unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art fetter'd More than my shanks, and wrists: you good gods, give me The penitent instrument to pick that bolt, Then, free for ever! Is't enough, I am sorry? I know, you are more clement than vile men, You rather mine, being yours; and so, great powers, [He sleeps. Solemn Music. Enter, as an Apparition, SICILIUS LEONATUS, Father to POSTHUMUS, an old Man, attired like a Warrior; leading in his Hand an ancient Matron, his Wife and Mother to POSTHUMUS, with Music before them: then, after other Music follow the Two young Leonati, Brothers to POSTHUMUS, with Wounds as they died in the Wars. They circle POSTHUMUS round, as he lies sleeping. Sici. No more, thou thunder-master, show With Mars fall out, with Juno chide, That thy adulteries Rates and revenges. Hath my poor boy done aught but well? I died, whilst in the womb he stay'd Whose father, then, (as men report, Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him Moth. Lucina lent not me her aid, Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry, That he deserv'd the praise o' the world, |