Cam'st thou from where they made the stand?

Cam'st thou from where they made the stand? I did,

5.3.32928Though you it seems come from the fliers?

Though you it seems come from the fliers? I did.

No blame be to you, sir, for all was lost

5.3.52931But that the heavens fought. The King himself

5.3.62932Of his wings destitute, the army broken

5.3.72933And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying

5.3.82934Through a strait lane; the enemy, full-hearted,

5.3.92935Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work

5.3.102936More plentiful than tools to do't, struck down

5.3.112937Some mortally, some slightly touched, some falling

5.3.122938Merely through fear, that the strait pass was dammed

5.3.132939With dead men, hurt behind, and cowards living

5.3.142940To die with lengthened shame.

To die with lengthened shame. Where was this lane?

Close by the battle, ditched and walled with turf,

5.3.162943Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier,

5.3.172944An honest one, I warrant, who deserved

5.3.182945So long a breeding as his white beard came to

5.3.192946In doing this for's country. Athwart the lane,

5.3.202947He, with two striplings, lads more like to run

5.3.212948The country base than to commit such slaughter,

5.3.222949With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer

5.3.232950Than those for preservation cased or shame,

5.3.242951Made good the passage, cried to those that fled,

5.3.252952"Our Britain's harts die flying, not our men;

5.3.262953To darkness fleet souls that fly backwards. Stand,

5.3.272954Or we are Romans and will give you that

5.3.282955Like beasts which you shun, beastly, and may save

5.3.292956But to look back in frown. Stand, stand!" These three,

5.3.302957Three thousand confident; in act as many,

5.3.312958For three performers are the file when all

5.3.322959The rest do nothing. With this word, "Stand, stand,"

5.3.332960Accommodated by the place, more charming

5.3.342961With their own nobleness, which could have turned

5.3.352962A distaff to a lance, gilded pale looks,

5.3.362963Part shame, part spirit renewed, that some turned coward

5.3.372964But by example (oh, a sin in war,

5.3.382965Damned in the first beginners) gan to look

5.3.392966The way that they did and to grin like lions

5.3.402967Upon the pikes o'th' hunters. Then began

5.3.412968A stop i'th' chaser, a retire; anon

5.3.422969A rout, confusion thick; forthwith they fly,

5.3.432970Chickens, the way which they stooped eagles; slaves,

5.3.442971The strides they victors made. And now our cowards,

5.3.452972Like fragments in hard voyages, became

5.3.462973The life o'th' need: having found the back door open

5.3.472974Of the unguarded hearts, heavens, how they wound!

5.3.482975Some slain before; some dying; some their friends --

5.3.492976O'erborne i'th' former wave, ten chased by one --

5.3.502977Are now each one the slaughterman of twenty:

5.3.512978Those that would die or ere resist are grown

5.3.522979The mortal bugs o'th' field.

The mortal bugs o'th' field. This was strange chance:

5.3.532981A narrow lane, an old man, and two boys.

Nay, do not wonder at it; you are made

5.3.552983Rather to wonder at the things you hear

5.3.562984Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon't

5.3.572985And vend it for a mockery? Here is one:

5.3.582986"Two boys, an old man (twice a boy), a lane,

5.3.592987Preserved the Britons, was the Romans' bane."

Nay, be not angry, sir.

Nay, be not angry, sir. 'Lack, to what end?

5.3.612990Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his friend,

5.3.622991For if he'll do as he is made to do,

5.3.632992I know he'll quickly fly my friendship, too.

5.3.642993You have put me into rhyme.

You have put me into rhyme. Farewell; you're angry.

Still going? This is a lord. Oh, noble misery,

5.3.672996To be i'th' field and ask "What news?" of me!

5.3.682997Today, how many would have given their honors

5.3.692998To have saved their carcasses; took heel to do't,

5.3.702999And yet died too? I, in mine own woe charmed,

5.3.713000Could not find death where I did hear him groan,

5.3.723001Nor feel him where he struck. Being an ugly monster,

5.3.733002'Tis strange he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds,

5.3.743003Sweet words; or hath more ministers than we

5.3.753004That draw his knives i'th' war. Well, I will find him,

5.3.763005For, being now a favorer to the Briton,

5.3.773006No more a Briton, I have resumed again

5.3.783007The part I came in. Fight I will no more,

5.3.793008But yield me to the veriest hind that shall

5.3.803009Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is

5.3.813010Here made by th' Roman; great the answer be

5.3.823011Britons must take. For me, my ransom's death;

5.3.833012On either side I come to spend my breath,

5.3.843013Which neither here I'll keep nor bear again,

5.3.853014But end it by some means for Imogen.

Great Jupiter be praised, Lucius is taken.

5.3.883017'Tis thought the old man and his sons were angels.

There was a fourth man, in a silly habit,

5.3.903019That gave th'affront with them.

That gave th'affront with them. So 'tis reported,

5.3.913021But none of 'em can be found. Stand, who's there?

But none of 'em can be found. Stand, who's there? A Roman,

5.3.923023Who had not now been drooping here if seconds

5.3.933024Had answered him.

Had answered him. Lay hands on him. A dog,

5.3.943026A leg of Rome shall not return to tell

5.3.953027What crows have pecked them here. He brags his service

5.3.963028As if he were of note: bring him to th' King.

You shall not now be stolen; 3035you have locks upon you.

5.3.1013036So graze as you find pasture.

So graze as you find pasture. Aye, or a stomach.

Most welcome bondage, for thou art a way,

5.3.1043039I think, to liberty; yet am I better

5.3.1053040Than one that's sick o'th' gout, since he had rather

5.3.1063041Groan so in perpetuity than be cured

5.3.1073042By th' sure physician, Death, who is the key

5.3.1083043T'unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art fettered

5.3.1093044More than my shanks and wrists; you good gods, give me,

5.3.1103045The penitent, instrument to pick that bolt,

5.3.1113046Then free for ever. Is't enough I am sorry?

5.3.1123047So children temporal fathers do appease;

5.3.1133048Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent,

5.3.1143049I cannot do it better than in gyves,

5.3.1153050Desired more than constrained. To satisfy

5.3.1163051If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take

5.3.1173052No stricter render of me than my all.

5.3.1183053I know you are more clement than vile men

5.3.1193054Who of their broken debtors take a third,

5.3.1203055A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again

5.3.1213056On their abatement; that's not my desire.

5.3.1223057For Imogen's dear life, take mine, and though

5.3.1233058'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coined it.

5.3.1243059'Tween man and man, they weigh not every stamp;

5.3.1253060Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake:

5.3.1263061You rather mine, being yours. And so, great powers,

5.3.1273062If you will take this audit, take this life,

5.3.1283063And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen,

5.3.1293064I'll speak to thee in silence.

No more, thou 3073Thunder-Master,show thy spite on mortal flies:

5.3.1343074With Mars fall out; with Juno chide that thy adulteries

5.3.1353075Rates and revenges.

5.3.1363076Hath my poor boy done ought but well, 3077whose face I never saw?

5.3.1373078I died whilst in the womb he stayed, 3079attending Nature's law,

5.3.1383080Whose father then, as men report 3081thou orphans' father art,

5.3.1393082Thou shouldst have been and shielded him 3083from this earth-vexing smart.

Lucina lent not me her aid 3085but took me in my throes,

5.3.1413086That from me was Posthumus ripped, 3087came crying 'mongst his foes,

5.3.1423088A thing of pity.

Great Nature, like his ancestry, 3090molded the stuff so fair

5.3.1443091That he deserved the praise o'th' world 3092as great Sicilius' heir.

When once he was mature for man, 3094in Britain where was he

5.3.1463095That could stand up his parallel, 3096or fruitful object be

5.3.1473097In eye of Imogen, that best could deem 3098his dignity?

With marriage wherefore was he mocked, 3100to be exiled and thrown

5.3.1493101From Leonati seat and cast from her, 3102his dearest one,

5.3.1503103Sweet Imogen?

Why did you suffer Iachimo, slight thing of Italy,

5.3.1523105To taint his nobler heart and brain with needless jealousy,

5.3.1533106And to become the geck and scorn o'th' other's villainy?

For this from stiller seats we came, 3108our parents and us twain,

5.3.1553109That, striking in our country's cause, 3110fell bravely and were slain,

5.3.1563111Our fealty and Tenantius' right with honor to maintain.

Like hardiment Posthumus hath 3113to Cymbeline performed;

5.3.1583114Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods, why hast thou thus adjourned

5.3.1593115The graces for his merits due, being all to dolors turned?

Thy crystal window ope; 3117look out; no longer exercise

5.3.1613118Upon a valiant race thy harsh and potent injuries.

Since, Jupiter, our son is good, 3120take off his miseries.

Peep through thy marble mansion; help, 3122or we poor ghosts will cry

5.3.1643123To th' shining synod of the rest against thy deity.

Help, Jupiter, or we appeal, 3125and from thy justice fly.

No more, you petty spirits of region low,

5.3.1693130Offend our hearing. Hush! How dare you ghosts

5.3.1703131Accuse the Thunderer, whose bolt, you know,

5.3.1713132Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts?

5.3.1723133Poor shadows of Elysium, hence, and rest

5.3.1733134Upon your never-withering banks of flowers.

5.3.1743135Be not with mortal accidents oppressed;

5.3.1753136No care of yours it is; you know 'tis ours.

5.3.1763137Whom best I love, I cross, to make my gift

5.3.1773138The more delayed, delighted. Be content:

5.3.1783139Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift;

5.3.1793140His comforts thrive; his trials well are spent.

5.3.1803141Our Jovial star reigned at his birth, and in

5.3.1813142Our temple was he married. Rise and fade;

5.3.1823143He shall be lord of Lady Imogen,

5.3.1833144And happier much by his affliction made.

5.3.1843145This tablet lay upon his breast, wherein

5.3.1853146Our pleasure, his full fortune, doth confine,

5.3.1863147And so away; no farther with your din

5.3.1873148Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.

5.3.1883149Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline.

He came in thunder; his celestial breath

5.3.1913151Was sulfurous to smell. The holy eagle

5.3.1923152Stooped, as to foot us. His ascension is

5.3.1933153More sweet than our blessed fields; his royal bird

5.3.1943154Preens the immortal wing and cloys his beak,

5.3.1953155As when his god is pleased.

As when his god is pleased. Thanks, Jupiter.

The marble pavement closes; he is entered

5.3.1973158His radiant roof. Away, and to be blessed,

5.3.1983159Let us with care perform his great behest.

Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire and begot

5.3.2033161A father to me, and thou hast created

5.3.2043162A mother and two brothers. But, oh, scorn,

5.3.2053163Gone; they went hence so soon as they were born.

5.3.2063164And so I am awake. Poor wretches that depend

5.3.2073165On greatness' favor dream as I have done,

5.3.2083166Wake, and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve:

5.3.2093167Many dream not to find, neither deserve,

5.3.2103168And yet are steeped in favors; so am I

5.3.2113169That have this golden chance and know not why.

5.3.2133170What fairies haunt this ground? A book? Oh, rare one,

5.3.2143171Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment

5.3.2153172Nobler than that it covers. Let thy effects

5.3.2163173So follow to be, most unlike our courtiers,

5.3.2173174As good as promise.

5.3.2203183'Tis still a dream, or else such stuff as madmen

5.3.2213184Tongue, and brain not; either both or nothing:

5.3.2223185Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such

5.3.2233186As sense cannot untie. Be what it is,

5.3.2243187The action of my life is like it, which I'll keep

5.3.2253188If but for sympathy.

Come, sir, are you ready for death?

Over-roasted, rather: ready long ago.

Hanging is the word, sir; if you be ready for 3193that, you are well cooked.

So if I prove a good repast to the spectators, the 3195dish pays the shot.

A heavy reckoning for you, sir, but the comfort 3197is, you shall be called to no more payments, fear no more 3198tavern bills, which are often the sadness of parting, as 3199the procuring of mirth. You come in faint for want of 3200meat, depart reeling with too much drink; sorry that 3201you have paid too much, and sorry that you are paid 3202too much; purse and brain both empty, the brain the 3203heavier for being too light; the purse too light, being 3204drawn of heaviness. Oh, of this contradiction you shall 3205now be quit. Oh, the charity of a penny cord: it sums 3206up thousands in a trice. You have no true debitor and 3207creditor but it. Of what's past, is, and to come, the 3208discharge; your neck, sir, is pen, book, and counters; so 3209the acquittance follows.

I am merrier to die than thou art to live.

Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the 3212toothache, but a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a 3213hangman to help him to bed, I think he would change 3214places with his officer, for, look you, sir, you know not 3215which way you shall go.

Yes, indeed, do I, fellow.

Your death has eyes in's head, then; I have not 3218seen him so pictured. You must either be directed by 3219some that take upon them to know, or to take upon 3220yourself that which I am sure you do not know, or jump the 3221after-enquiry on your own peril. And how you shall 3222speed in your journey's end, I think you'll never 3223returnto tell one.

I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to 3225direct them the way I am going but such as wink and 3226will not use them.

What an infinite mock is this that a man should 3228have the best use of eyes to see the way of blindness. I 3229am sure hanging's the way of winking.

Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to 3232the King.

Thou bringst good news: I am called to be 3234made free.

I'll be hanged then.

Thou shalt be then freer then a jailer: no bolts 3237for the dead.

5.3.24332381 Jailer [Aside]

Unless a man would marry a gallows and 3239beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone; yet, on my 3240conscience, there are verier knaves desire to live, for all 3241he be a Roman; and there be some of them, too, that die 3242against their wills; so should I, if I were one. I would 3243we were all of one mind, and one mind good. Oh, there 3244were desolation of jailers and gallowses! I speak 3245against my present profit, but my wish hath a preferment 3246in't.