I tremble ftill with fear; but if there be Pifanio! damn'd Pifanio From this the braveft veffel of the world. Struck the main top! oh Pofthumus, alas, Where is thy head? where's that? ah me, where's that? Pifanio might have kill'd thee at the heart, And left thy head on. How should this be? Pifanio!--'Tis he and Cloten. Malice and lucre in them Have laid this woe here. Oh 'tis pregnant, pregnant! The drug he gave me, which he faid was precious And cordial to me, have I not found it Murd'rous to th' fenfes? that confirms it home: SCENE Lord! my VII. Lord! Enter Lucius, Captains, and a Soothsayer. Cap. To them, the legions garrifon'd in Gallia After your will, have crofs'd the fea, attending You here at Milford-Haven, with your ships: They are in readiness. VOL. VI. N Luc. 194 Luc. But what from Rome? Cap. The fenate hath stirr'd up the confiners, And gentlemen of Italy, moft willing fpirits, That promise noble fervice: and they come Under the conduct of bold Iachimo, Syenna's brother. Luc. When expect you them? Cap. With the next benefit o'th' wind. Makes our hopes fair. Command our prefent numbers 8 / Sooth. Laft very night the Gods fhew'd me a vifion; 9' (I fafting' pray'd for their intelligence) I faw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing From th' fpungy fouth, to this part of the weft, There vanifh in the fun-beams; which portends (Unless my fins abuse my divination) Succefs to th' Roman hoft. Luc. Dream often fo, And never falfe.Soft, ho, what trunk is here Cap. He's alive, my Lord. Luc. He'll then inftruct us of this body. Young one, Inform us of thy fortunes, for it seems They crave to be demanded: who is this Thou mak'ft thy bloody pillow? who was he Hath alter'd that good picture? what's thy intereft Imo. night the very I faft and 9 I vanish'd 2 did Imo. I am nothing; or if not, Nothing to be, were better. This was my mafter, That here by mountaineers lyes. flain: alas! There are no more fuch masters: I may wander Luc. 'Lack, good youth! Thou mov'ft no lefs with thy complaining, than Luc. Thy name? Imo. Fidele. Luc. Thou doft approve thy felf the very fame; [Afide. Imo. I'll follow, Sir. But firft, 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 ha' ftrew'd his grave, And on it faid a century of pray❜rs, (Such as I can,) twice o'er, I'll weep and figh, And leaving fo his fervice follow you, So please you entertain me. Luc. Ay, good youth, And rather father thee, than master thee. The boy hath taught us manly duties: let us And make him with our pikes and partizans A grave; come, arm him: boy, he is preferr'd As foldiers can. Be chearful, wipe thine eyes. Some falls are means the happier to arife. Enter Bellarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus. Guid. The noife is round about us. Bel. Let us from it. [Exeunt. Arv. What pleasure, Sir, find we in life, to lock it: From action and adventure? Guid. Nay, what hope Have we in hiding us? this way the Romans Muft or for Britons flay us, or receive us During their use, and flay us after. Bel. Sons, We'll higher to the mountains, there fecure us. That which we've done, whofe answer would be death Guid. This is, Sir, a doubt (In fuch a time) nothing becoming you, Nor fatisfying us. Arv. It is not likely, That when they hear the Roman horfes neigh, Behold their quarter'd fires, have both their eyes And ears fo cloy'd importantly as now, Bel. Oh, I am known Of many in the army; many years, Though Cloten then but young, (you fee,) not wore him (a) That is, take him up in your arms. From From my remembrance. And besides, the King Guid. Than be so, Better to cease to be. Pray, Sir, to th' army; I and my brother are not known; your felf So out of thought, and thereto fo o'er-grown, Cannot be question'd. Arv. By this fun that fhines, I'll thither; what thing is it, that I never Did fee man die, fcarce ever look'd on blood, But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venifon? A rider like my felf who ne'er wore rowel, To look upon the holy fun, to have Guid. By heav'ns, I'll go; If you will blefs me, Sir, and give me leave, The hands of Romans! Arv. So fay I, Amen! Bel. No reafon I, fince of your lives you fet So flight a valuation, fhould referve 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 lye. Lead, lead; the time feems long, their blood thinks fcorn, Till it flie out, and fhew them Princes born. N 3 [Afide. [Exeunt. ACT |