Page 558 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

[Exit.]

POSTHUMUS
Still going? This is a lord! O noble misery,
To be i’ th’ field, and ask ‘what news?’ of me! [65]
To-day how many would have given their honours
To have sav’d their carcasses? 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, [70]

’Tis strange he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds,
Sweet words: or hath moe ministers than we
That draw his knives i’ th’ war. Well, I find him:
For being now a favourer to the Briton,
No more a Briton, I have resumed again [75]

The part I came in. Fight I will no more,
But yield me to the veriest hind that shall
Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is

Here made by th’ Roman; great the answer be
Britons must take. For me, my ransom’s death: [80]
On either side I come to spend my breath,
Which neither here I’ll keep nor bear again,
But end it by some means for Imogen.

Enter two British Captains and Soldiers.

FIRST CAPTAIN
Great Jupiter be prais’d, Lucius is taken:
’Tis thought the old man, and his sons, were angels. [85]

SECOND CAPTAIN
There was a fourth man, in a silly habit,
That gave th’ affront with them.

FIRST CAPTAIN
So ’tis reported:

But none of’em can be found. Stand! who’s there?