ACT 3
Scene 1

...plague them better.
Enter in state Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, and Lords at one door, and, at another, Caius Lucius and Attendants.

...Caesar with us?
When Julius Caesar, whose remembrance yet
Lives in men’s eyes and will to ears and tongues
Be theme and hearing ever, was in this Britain
And conquered it, Cassibelan, thine uncle,
Famous in Caesar’s praises no whit less
Than in his feats deserving it, for him
And his succession granted Rome a tribute,
Yearly three thousand pounds, which by thee lately
Is left untendered.

...Himself a king.
I am sorry, Cymbeline,
That I am to pronounce Augustus Caesar—
Caesar, that hath more kings his servants than
Thyself domestic officers—thine enemy.
Receive it from me, then: war and confusion
In Caesar’s name pronounce I ’gainst thee. Look
For fury not to be resisted. Thus defied,
I thank thee for myself.

...not find them.
Let proof speak.

...there’s an end.
So, sir.

...remain is welcome.
They exit.

Scene 5

...I thank thee.
Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, Lucius, Lords, and Attendants.

...and so farewell.
Thanks, royal sir.
My emperor hath wrote I must from hence,
And am right sorry that I must report you
My master’s enemy.

...needs Appear unkinglike.
So, sir. I desire of you
A conduct overland to Milford Haven.—
Madam, all joy befall your Grace—and you.

...farewell, noble Lucius.
to Cloten
Your hand, my lord.

...as your enemy.
Sir, the event
Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well.

...the Severn. Happiness!
Exit Lucius and Lords.

ACT 4
Scene 2

...lord! My lord!
Enter Lucius, Captains, Soldiers, and a Soothsayer.

...here in readiness.
But what from Rome?

...Iachimo, Siena’s brother.
When expect you them?

...o’ th’ wind.
This forwardness
Makes our hopes fair. Command our present numbers
Be mustered; bid the Captains look to ’t.—Now, sir,
What have you dreamed of late of this war’s purpose?

...th’ Roman host.
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? But dead rather,
For nature doth abhor to make his bed
With the defunct or sleep upon the dead.
Let’s see the boy’s face.

...alive, my lord.
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? Or who was he
That, otherwise than noble nature did,
Hath altered that good picture? What’s thy interest
In this sad wrack? How came ’t? Who is ’t?
What art thou?

...such another master.
’Lack, good youth,
Thou mov’st no less with thy complaining than
Thy master in bleeding. Say his name, good friend.

...it.—Say you, sir?
Thy name?

... Fidele, sir.
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 mastered, but be sure
No less beloved. The Roman Emperor’s letters
Sent by a consul to me should not sooner
Than thine own worth prefer thee. Go with me.

...you entertain me.
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 daisied plot we can,
And make him with our pikes and partisans
A grave. Come, arm him.—Boy, he’s preferred
By thee to us, and he shall be interred
As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes.
Some falls are means the happier to arise.
They exit, the Soldiers carrying Cloten’s body.

ACT 5
Scene 2

...and more within.
Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and the Roman army at one door, and the Briton army at another, Leonatus Posthumus following like a poor soldier. They march over and go out. Then enter again, in skirmish, Iachimo and Posthumus. He vanquisheth and disarmeth Iachimo, and then leaves him.

...stand, and fight!
Then enter Lucius, Iachimo, and Imogen as Fidele.
to Fidele
Away, boy, from the troops, and save thyself,
For friends kill friends, and the disorder’s such
As war were hoodwinked.

...their fresh supplies.
It is a day turned strangely. Or betimes
Let’s reinforce, or fly.
They exit.

Scene 5

...Heaven mend all.
Enter Lucius, Iachimo, Soothsayer, and other Roman prisoners, Posthumus Leonatus behind, and Imogen as Fidele, with Briton Soldiers as guards.

...of your estate.
Consider, sir, the chance of war. The day
Was yours by accident. Had it gone with us,
We should not, when the blood was cool, have threatened
Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods
Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives
May be called ransom, let it come. Sufficeth
A Roman with a Roman’s heart can suffer.
Augustus lives to think on ’t; and so much
For my peculiar care. This one thing only
I will entreat: my boy, a Briton born,
Let him be ransomed. Never master had
A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
So tender over his occasions, true,
So feat, so nurselike. Let his virtue join
With my request, which I’ll make bold your Highness
Cannot deny. He hath done no Briton harm,
Though he have served a Roman. Save him, sir,
And spare no blood beside.

...thank your Highness.
I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad,
And yet I know thou wilt.

...shuffle for itself.
The boy disdains me,
He leaves me, scorns me. Briefly die their joys
That place them on the truth of girls and boys.
Why stands he so perplexed?

...do you service.
Happy be you!

...in the construction.
Philarmonus!

...my good lord.
Read, and declare the meaning.

...such a peace.
They exit.