4.4.12791Enter Belarius [as Morgan], Guiderius [as Polydore], and Arviragus [as Cadwal] The noise is round about us.
The noise is round about us. Let us from it.
What pleasure, sir, we find in life, to lock it
From action and adventure? Nay, what hope
4.4.52797Have we in hiding us? This way the Romans
4.4.62798Must or for Britons slay us or receive us
During their use and slay us after. Sons,
4.4.92802We'll higher to the mountains, there secure us.
4.4.102803To the King's party there's no going: newness
4.4.112804Of Clotten's death, we being not known, not mustered
4.4.122805Among the bands, may drive us to a render
4.4.132806Where we have lived; and so extort from's that
4.4.142807Which we have done, whose answer would be death
Drawn on with torture. This is, sir, a doubt
Nor satisfying us. It is not likely
4.4.182813That when they hear their Roman horses neigh,
4.4.192814Behold their quartered fires, have both their eyes
4.4.212816That they will waste their time upon our note
To know from whence we are. Oh, I am known
4.4.242820Though Clotten then but young, you see, not wore him
4.4.252821From my remembrance. And besides, the King
4.4.262822Hath not deserved my service nor your loves,
4.4.272823Who find in my exile the want of breeding,
4.4.282824The certainty of this hard life, ay hopeless
4.4.292825To have the courtesy your cradle promised
4.4.302826But to be still hot summer's tanlings and
The shrinking slaves of winter. Than be so,
4.4.322829Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to th' army.
4.4.332830I and my brother are not known, yourself
4.4.342831So out of thought and thereto so o'ergrown
Cannot be questioned. By this sun that shines,
4.4.362834I'll thither. What thing is't that I never
4.4.372835Did see man die, scarce ever looked on blood
4.4.382836But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison;
4.4.392837Never bestrid a horse, save one that had
4.4.402838A rider like myself who ne'er wore rowel
4.4.432841The benefit of his blessed beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown. By heavens, I'll go!
4.4.452844If you will bless me, sir, and give me leave,
4.4.462845I'll take the better care, but if you will not,
The hands of Romans. So say I, amen.
No reason I, since of your lives you set
4.4.512851My cracked one to more care. Have with you, boys:
4.4.522852If in your country wars you chance to die,
4.4.532853That is my bed, too, lads, and there I'll lie.
4.4.542854Lead, lead.
[Aside] The time seems long; their blood thinks scorn
4.4.552855Till it fly out and show them princes born.