Crush him together, rather than unfold His measure duly. 2 Gent. What's his name, and birth? 1 Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: His father And had, besides this gentleman in question, Died with their swords in hand; for which their father What kind of man he is. 2 Gent. I honour him Even out of your report. But, 'pray you, tell me, His only child. 1 Gent. He had two sons, (if this be worth your hearing, Mark it,) the eldest of them at three years old, I' the swathing clothes the other, from their nursery Were stolen; and to this hour, no guess in knowledge Which way they went. * 2 Gent. How long is this ago? 1 Gent. Some twenty years. 2 Gent. That a king's children should be so convey'd! So slackly guarded! And the search so slow, That could not trace them! 1 Gent. Howsoe'er 'tis strange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at, 2 Gent. I do well believe you. 1 Gent. We must forbear: Here comes the gentleman, The queen, and princess. SCENE II. The same. [Exeunt. Enter the Queen, PÖSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN. Queen. No, be assur'd, you shall not find me, daughter, After the slander of most step-mothers, Evil-ey'd unto you: you are my prisoner, but Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus, I will be known your advocate: marry, yet Posts I will from hence to-day. Queen. Please your highness, You know the peril : I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying The pangs of barr'd affections; though the king Imo. [Exit Queen Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant Can tickle where she wounds!-My dearest husband, His rage can do on me: You must be gone; But that there is this jewel in the world, Post. My queen! my mistress! Known but by letter: thither write, my queen, Queen. Re-enter Queen. Be brief, I pray you: If the king come, I shall incur I know not How much of his displeasure:-Yet I'll move him [aside. Post. [Exit. Should we be taking leave As long a term as yet we have to live, The lothness to depart would grow: Adieu! Were you but riding forth to air yourself, When Imogen is dead. Post. How! how! another? You gentle gods, give me but this I have, And sear up my embracements from a next With bonds of death!-Remain, remain thou here While sense can keep it on! And sweetest, fairest, To your so infinite loss; so, in our trifles I still win of you: For my sake, wear this; It is a manacle of love; I'll place it Upon this fairest prisoner. [Putting a bracelet on her arm. Imo. O, the gods! When shall we see again? Post. Enter CYMBELINE, and Lords. "Alack, the king! Cym. Thou basest thing, avoid! hence, from my sight! If, after this command, thou fraught the court With thy unworthiness, thou diest: Away! Thou art poison to my blood. Post. The Gods protect you! And bless the good remainders of the court! I am gone. Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death More sharp than this is. Cym. O disloyal thing, [Exit. That thou should'st repair my youth; thou heapest Imo. I beseech you, sir, Harm not yourself with your vexation; I Cym. Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; would'st have made my throne Sir, It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus: Cym. What!-art thou mad? Imo. Almost, sir: Heaven restore mel-'Would I were A neat-herd's daughter! and my Leonatus Our neighbour shepherd's son!" Re-enter Queen. Thou foolish thing! Cym. They were again together: you have done [To the Queen. Not after our command. Away with her, And pen her up. 'Beseech your patience:-Peace, Dear lady daughter, peace;-Sweet sovereign, Leave us to ourselves; and make yourself some comfort Out of your best advice. Cym. Nay, let her languish [Exit. A drop of blood a day; and, being aged, Die of this folly! Queen. Enter PISANIO. Fy-you must give way: Here is your servant.-How now, sir? What news? Queen. No harm, I trust, is done? Pis. Ha! There might have been, But that my master rather play'd than fought, Queen. I am very glad on 't. Imo. Your son's my father's friend; he takes his part. To draw upon an exile!—O brave sir!—— I would they were in Africk both together; Myself by with a needle, that I might prick The goer back.--Why came you from your master? Queen. This hath been Your faithful servant: I dare lay mine honour, Pis. I humbly thank your highness. Queen. Pray, walk a while. About some half hour hence, I pray you, speak with me: you shall, at least, Go see my lord aboard: for this time, leave me. [Exeunt. |