Imatges de pÓgina

I tremble still with fear; but if there be
Yet left in heav'n as small a drop of pity
As a wren's eye, oh Gods! a part of it!
The dream's here still ; even when I wake, it is
Without me, as within me; not imagin’d, felt.
A headless man !- the garments of Posthumus ?
I know the shape of's leg, this is his hand,
His foot Mercurial, his Martial thigh,
The arms of Hercules : but his Jovial face -
Murther in heav'n! - how'-'tis gone Pisanio!
All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks,
And mine to boot, be darted on thee! thou,
'Twas thou conspiring with that devil Cloten,
Hast here cut off my Lord. To write, and read,
Be henceforth treach'rous! Damn’d Pisanio
Hath with his forged letters damn'd Pifanio
From this the braveft vessel of the world
Struck the main top ! oh Posthumus, alas,
Where is thy head? where's that? ah me, where's that?
Pisanio might have kill'd thee at the heart,
And left 1 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 said was precious
And cordial to me, have I not found it
Murd'rous to th' fenfes ? that confirms it home:
This is Pifanio's deed, and Cloten's. Oh!
Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood,
That we the horrider may seem to those
Which chance to find us.

Lord! my Lord!

Enter Lucius, Captains, and a Soothsayer, .
Cap. To them, the legions garrison'd in Gallia
After your will, have crossd the sea, attending
You here at Milford-Haven, with your ships :
They are in readiness.
Vol. VI,


Oh, my

Luc. But what from Rome?

Cap. The senate hath stirr'd up the confiners,
And gentlemen of Italy, most willing spirits,
That promise noble service : 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.

Luc. This forwardness
Makes our hopes fair. Command our prefent numbers
Be muster'd, bid the captains look to't. Now, Sir,

[To the Soothsayer. What have you dream'd, of late, of this war's purpose ?

Sootb. Last 8/ very night the Gods shew'd me a vision ; 9' (I fasting pray'd for their intelligence) I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing From th' spungy fouth, to this part of the west, There '' vanish in the sun-beams; which portends (Unless my fins abuse my divination) Success to th' Roman hoft.

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: bur dead rather :
For nature doth abhor to make his couch
With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead.
Let's see the boy's face.

Cap. He's alive, my Lord.

Lúc. 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? who was he That, otherwise than noble nature '2 did it," Hath alter'd that good picture? what's thy interest In this sad wreck? how came it, and who is it? What art thou ?

Imo. S night the very

9 I fast and 1 vanith'd 2 did


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 lyes. Nain: alas!
There are no more such masters : I may wander
From east to occident, cry out for service,
Try many, all good, serve them truly, never
Find such another master.

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

Imo. Richard du Camp. If I do lie, and do
No harm by it, though the Gods hear, I hope
They'll pardon't. Say you, Sir?

Luc. Thy name?
Imo. Fidele.

Luc. Thou dost approve thyself the very same;
Thy name well fits thy faith, thy faith thy name.
Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say
Thou shalt be so well master'd, but be sure
No less beloy'd. The Roman Emperor's letters
Sent by a Consulto me should no 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 Aies 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 said a century of pray’rs,
(Such as I can,) twice o'er, I'll weep and ligh,
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 dazied-plot we can,
And make him with our pikes and partizans

A grave; come, a arm him: boy, he is preferred
By thee to us, and he shall be interr'd
As soldiers can. Be chcarful; wipe thine eyes.
Some falls are means the happier to arise. [Exeunt.

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Enter Bellarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.
Guid. The noise is round about us.
Bel. Let us from it.

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
Must or for Britons slay us, or receive us
For barb'rous and unnatural revolters
During their use, and Nay us after.
Bel. Sons,

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 mufter'd
Among the bands may drive us to a render
Where we have liv'd : and fo extort from us
That which we've 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 fo cloy'd importantly as now,
That they will wafte their time upon our note
To know from whence we are,

Bel. Oh, I am known
Of many in the army ; many years,
Though Cloten then hut young, (you fee,) not wore him

From (a) That is, take him up in your arms.

From my remembrance. And besides, the King
Hath not deserv'd my service, nor your loves ;
Who find in my exile the want of breeding,
The certainty of this hard life, aye hopeless
To have the courtesie your cradle promis’d,
But to be still hot summer's tanlings, and
The shrinking Naves of winter.

Guid. Than be fo,
Better to cease to be. Pray, Sir, to th'army ;
I and my brother are not known; your self
So out of thought, and thereto so o'er-grown,
Cannot be question'd.

Arv. By this fun 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?
Never bestrid a horse fave one, that had
A rider like my self who ne'er wore rowel,
Nor iron on his heel? I am asham'd
To look upon the holy fun, to have
The benefit of his bleft beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.

Guid. By heav'ns, 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!

Arv. So fay I, Amen!

Bel. No reason I, since of your lives you set So Night a valuation, should reserve 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 seems long, their blood thinks scorn,

[Aside. 'Till it fie out, and shew them Princes born. [Exeunt.

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