第 17 节
作者:
雨来不躲 更新:2021-02-21 14:48 字数:8597
To look upon the holy sun; to have The benefit of his blest beams;
remaining So long a poor unknown。 GUIDERIUS。 By heavens; 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!
ARVIRAGUS。 So say I。 Amen。 BELARIUS。 No reason I; since of your
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lives you set So slight 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 lie。 Lead; lead。 'Aside' The time seems
long; their blood thinks scorn Till it fly out and show them princes born。
Exeunt
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ACT V。
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SCENE I。 Britain。 The Roman camp
Enter POSTHUMUS alone; with a bloody handkerchief
POSTHUMUS。 Yea; bloody cloth; I'll keep thee; for I wish'd Thou
shouldst be colour'd thus。 You married ones; If each of you should take
this course; how many Must murder wives much better than themselves
For wrying but a little! O Pisanio! Every good servant does not all
commands; No bond but to do just ones。 Gods! if you Should have ta'en
vengeance on my faults; I never Had liv'd to put on this; so had you saved
The noble Imogen to repent; and struck Me; wretch more worth your
vengeance。 But alack; You snatch some hence for little faults; that's love;
To have them fall no more。 You some permit To second ills with ills; each
elder worse; And make them dread it; to the doer's thrift。 But Imogen is
your own。 Do your best wills; And make me blest to obey。 I am brought
hither Among th' Italian gentry; and to fight Against my lady's kingdom。
'Tis enough That; Britain; I have kill'd thy mistress; peace! I'll give no
wound to thee。 Therefore; good heavens; Hear patiently my purpose。 I'll
disrobe me Of these Italian weeds; and suit myself As does a Britain
peasant。 So I'll fight Against the part I come with; so I'll die For thee; O
Imogen; even for whom my life Is every breath a death。 And thus
unknown; Pitied nor hated; to the face of peril Myself I'll dedicate。 Let me
make men know More valour in me than my habits show。 Gods; put the
strength o' th' Leonati in me! To shame the guise o' th' world; I will begin
The fashion… less without and more within。 Exit
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SCENE II。 Britain。 A field of battle between the
British and Roman camps
Enter LUCIUS; IACHIMO; and the Roman army at one door; and the
British army at another; LEONATUS POSTHUMUS following like a poor
soldier。 They march over and go out。 Alarums。 Then enter again; in
skirmish; IACHIMO and POSTHUMUS。 He vanquisheth and disarmeth
IACHIMO; and then leaves him
IACHIMO。 The heaviness and guilt within my bosom Takes off my
manhood。 I have belied a lady; The Princess of this country; and the air
on't Revengingly enfeebles me; or could this carl; A very drudge of
nature's; have subdu'd me In my profession? Knighthoods and honours
borne As I wear mine are titles but of scorn。 If that thy gentry; Britain; go
before This lout as he exceeds our lords; the odds Is that we scarce are
men; and you are gods。 Exit
The battle continues; the BRITONS fly; CYMBELINE is taken。 Then
enter to his rescue BELARIUS; GUIDERIUS; and ARVIRAGUS
BELARIUS。 Stand; stand! We have th' advantage of the ground; The
lane is guarded; nothing routs us but The villainy of our fears。
GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGUS。 Stand; stand; and fight!
Re…enter POSTHUMUS; and seconds the Britons; they rescue
CYMBELINE; and exeunt。 Then re…enter LUCIUS and IACHIMO; with
IMOGEN
LUCIUS。 Away; boy; from the troops; and save thyself; For friends
kill friends; and the disorder's such As war were hoodwink'd。 IACHIMO。
'Tis their fresh supplies。 LUCIUS。 It is a day turn'd strangely。 Or betimes
Let's reinforce or fly。 Exeunt
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SCENE III。 Another part of the field
Enter POSTHUMUS and a Britain LORD
LORD。 Cam'st thou from where they made the stand? POSTHUMUS。
I did: Though you; it seems; come from the fliers。 LORD。 I did。
POSTHUMUS。 No blame be to you; sir; for all was lost; But that the
heavens fought。 The King himself Of his wings destitute; the army broken;
And but the backs of Britons seen; all flying; Through a strait lane… the
enemy; full…hearted; Lolling the tongue with slaught'ring; having work
More plentiful than tools to do't; struck down Some mortally; some
slightly touch'd; some falling Merely through fear; that the strait pass was
damm'd With dead men hurt behind; and cowards living To die with
length'ned shame。 LORD。 Where was this lane? POSTHUMUS。 Close by
the battle; ditch'd; and wall'd with turf;
Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier… An honest one; I warrant;
who deserv'd So long a breeding as his white beard came to; In doing this
for's country。 Athwart the lane He; with two striplings… lads more like to
run The country base than to commit such slaughter; With faces fit for
masks; or rather fairer Than those for preservation cas'd or shame… Made
good the passage; cried to those that fled 'Our Britain's harts die flying; not
our men。 To darkness fleet souls that fly backwards! Stand; Or we are
Romans and will give you that; Like beasts; which you shun beastly; and
may save But to look back in frown。 Stand; stand!' These three; Three
thousand confident; in act as many… For three performers are the file when
all The rest do nothing… with this word 'Stand; stand!' Accommodated by
the place; more charming With their own nobleness; which could have
turn'd A distaff to a lance; gilded pale looks; Part shame; part spirit
renew'd; that some turn'd coward But by example… O; a sin in war Damn'd
in the first beginners!… gan to look The way that they did and to grin like
lions Upon the pikes o' th' hunters。 Then began A stop i' th' chaser; a retire;
anon A rout; confusion thick。 Forthwith they fly; Chickens; the way which
they stoop'd eagles; slaves; The strides they victors made; and now our
cowards; Like fragments in hard voyages; became The life o' th' need。
Having found the back…door open Of the unguarded hearts; heavens; how
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they wound! Some slain before; some dying; some their friends O'erborne
i' th' former wave。 Ten chas'd by one Are now each one the slaughterman
of twenty。 Those that would die or ere resist are grown The mortal bugs o'
th' field。 LORD。 This was strange chance: A narrow lane; an old man; and
two boys。 POSTHUMUS。 Nay; do not wonder at it; you are made Rather
to wonder at the things you hear Than to work any。 Will you rhyme upon't;
And vent it for a mock'ry? Here is one: 'Two boys; an old man (twice a
boy); a lane; Preserv'd the Britons; was the Romans' bane。' LORD。 Nay; be
not angry; sir。 POSTHUMUS。 'Lack; to what end? Who dares not stand his
foe I'll be his friend; For if he'll d