LORD

Did you come from where they made a stand?

POSTHUMUS LEONATUS

I did. But it seems like you were one of the people who ran away.

LORD

I was.

POSTHUMUS LEONATUS

I don't blame you, sir, because there was no hope except that the gods fought for us. The king was trapped alone, the army beaten up, and no one could see anything except the backs of Britons running away through a narrow alley. The enemy, rejoicing, was eager to slaughter them, with more people to kill than they had weapons to do it with. Some people were killed, some a little injured, some just fell down from fear. The narrow way was dammed up with dead men hit in the back, and cowards who stayed alive to die of shame later. 

LORD

Where was this alley?

POSTHUMUS LEONATUS

Next to the battlefield, with ditches on the sides and walls made of grass. This gave an opportunity to an ancient solder, an honest one I bet. He deserved to be made as noble as his white beard was long for doing this in the service of his country. He, along with two young boys more likely to run races in the countryside than kill people this way, with faces attractive enough to make masks out of, or rather more beautiful than anyone whose face was made into a mask to remind people of their virtue or shame—they protected the passageway. They called to the men running away: "British deer die while running away, not British men. The souls of people who run away go to hell. Stand your ground, or we will act like Romans and treat you like animals because you're running away like animals. You can save yourselves by just turning around and frowning. Stand your ground." These three were as confident as if there were three thousand of them, and had the same effect as three thousand—because three people can make a difference when no one else is doing anything. They said "stand your ground" and looked at home where they were, and convinced people by their example, which could even have turned a woman's stick for spinning wool into a spear. They made people seem less afraid, partly because they were ashamed to and partly because their courage came back. Some people, who were acting like cowards just because everyone else was—which is a sin in war and the people who began this trend should be damned!—began to act the same as the three men and to bare their teeth like lions at hunters' spears. Then the chase ended, the enemy fell back and was defeated, and there was nothing but confusion in their ranks. Immediately they ran like chickens when before they acted like eagles. They went back like slaves over the space they first crossed like conquerors. And now those who were cowards at first on our side, like crumbs that save your life when you're starving on a long journey, saved the day. Finding the enemies' backs unprotected, they stabbed them to the heart! They trampled over some men who had been killed before, some who were dying, some who fell over in the crowd. Before, ten men were chased by one, but those men turned around and killed twenty. The men who chose to die rather than give up became the terror of the battlefield.

LORD

This was a strange coincidence: a narrow road, an old man, and two boys.

POSTHUMUS LEONATUS

No, don't be amazed. It's your nature to be amazed at things you hear about rather than do anything yourself. Are you going to make a poem about it and act it out? Here's one: "Two boys, an old man in his second childhood, and a road saved the British and destroyed the Romans."

LORD

Don't be angry, sir?

POSTHUMUS LEONATUS

Why should I? I'll be friends with anyone who doesn't dare stay and fight his enemy. Because if he does what is natural to him, I know he'll run away from my friendship too. You made me rhyme.

LORD

Goodbye: you're angry?

POSTHUMUS LEONATUS

Still running away?

That was a lord? Oh what a noble hardship, to be in the battlefield and ask me "what's going on?" Today so many chose to give up their honor to save their bodies! They ran to do it, but died anyway! I, cloaked in my own sadness, couldn't find death even where I heard him groaning, and couldn't get hit by him even where he was striking people down. He's an ugly monster, so it's strange he hides in refreshing cups, soft beds, and sweet words, and has more minions than there are soldiers taking knives out to serve him in the war. Well, because he's on the British side, I won't be a British soldier anymore. I'll go back to the side I came here with. I won't fight any more, but surrender to the lowest soldier who just touches me on the shoulder once. The Romans killed a lot of people here, and the Britons will punish them for it. My prize will be death. I've fought on both sides, but instead of sticking with one or the other I'll die for Imogen's sake.

FIRST CAPTAIN

May great Jupiter be praised! Lucius has been captured. It's believed that the old man and his sons were angels.

SECOND CAPTAIN

There was a fourth man, in humble clothes, who fought with them.

FIRST CAPTAIN

I've heard that said. But none of them can be found. Stop! Who's there?

POSTHUMUS LEONATUS

A Roman, who wouldn't have been stuck here if people had come to his help.

SECOND CAPTAIN

Grab him. He's a dog! Not even a single Roman leg will make it home to report what crows pecked it here. He's bragging about his fighting as if he's important. Bring him to the king.