Field of battle between the British and Roman camps.
(Lucius; Jachimo; Leonatus Posthumus; Cymbeline; Belarius; Guiderius; Arviragus; Imogen)
Dressed as a peasant, Posthumus conquers and disarms Jachimo, who is convinced that his evil deed is catching up to him. Cymbeline is captured by the Romans, but rescued by Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus and Posthumus. (20 lines)
Enter Lucius, Jachimo, and the Roman army at one door, and the Britain army at another; Leonatus Posthumus following, like a poor soldier.
They march over and go out.
Then enter again, in skirmish, Jachimo and Posthumus.
Posthumus vanquisheth and disarmeth Jachimo.
Posthumus then leaves him.
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 honors, 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.
The battle continues, the Britains fly, Cymbeline is taken.
Then enter, to his rescue, Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.
Stand, stand! We have th’ advantage of the ground,
The lane is guarded. Nothing routs us but
The villainy of our fears.
Stand, stand, and fight!
Enter Posthumus and seconds the Britains.
They rescue Cymbeline and exeunt.
Then enter Lucius, Jachimo, and Imogen.
Away, boy, from the troops, and save thyself;
For friends kill friends, and the disorder’s such
As war were hoodwink’d.
’Tis their fresh supplies.
It is a day turn’d strangely. Or betimes
Let’s reinforce, or fly.