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An honest one, I warrant; who deserv'd
Britons must take; For me, my ransome's death;
Enter Two British Captains, and Soldiers.
1 Cap. Great Jupiter be prais'd! Lucius is taken : Our Britain's harts die flying, not our men
'Tis thoughi, the old man and his sons were angels. To darkness fleet, souls that fly backwards! Stund;
2 Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly habit, Or we are Romans, and will give you that
That gave the affront with them.
So 'tis reported: But to look back in frown : stand, stand. These three, But none of them can be found. --Stand! who is Three thousand confident, in act as many,
Post. A Roman;
Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds
Had answer'd him.
Lay hands on him; a dog!
A leg of Rome shall not return to tell
As if he were of note : bring him to the king.
Enter CYMBELINE, attended; BELARIES, GUIDERNT,
ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, and Roman captives. The A stop i' the chaser, a retire; anon,
Captains present PostHUMUS to CYMBELINE, who A rout, confusion thick : Forthwith, they fly
delivers him over to a Gaoler : after which, all yo
SCENE IV.--A Prison.
Enter POSTHUMUS, and Two Gaolers.
locks upon you ;
Ay, or a stomach. The mortal bugs o' the field.
[E.reunt Gaolers. Lord.
This was strange chance : Post. Most welcome, bondage ! for thou art a way, A narrow lane! an old man, and two boys! I think, to liberty : Yet am I better
Post. Nay, do not wonder at it: You are made Than one that's sick o' the gout: since he had rather
Groan so in perpetuity, than be cur'd
To unbar these locks. My conscience! thou art
(give me Preserv'd the Britons, was the Romans' bane. More than my shanks, and wrists : You good gods, Lord. Nay, be not angry, sir.
The penitent instrument, to pick that bolt,
'Lack, to what end? Then, free for ever! Is't enough, I am sorry?
Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent ?
I cannot do it better than in gyves,
Desir’d, more than constrain'd: to satisfy,
Farewell; you are angry. If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take
[Erit. No stricter render of ine, than my all.
Who of their broken debtors take a third,
You rather mine, being yours : And so, great powers,
Solemn Musick. Enter, as an apparition, Sicilius No more a Briton, I have resum'd again
LEONATUS, father to POSTHUMUS, an old man, The part I came in: Fight I will no more,
attired like a warrior ; leading in his hand an anBut yield me to the veriest hind, that shall
cient matron, his wife, and mother to PosthCMUS, Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is with musick before them. Then, afler other musick, Here made by the Roman; groat the answer be follow the Two young Leonati, brothers to Post
HUMUS, with wounds, as they died in the wars, jup. No more, you petty spirits of region low
-How dare you ghosts,
Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt you know,
Sky.planted, batters all rebelling coasts?
Poor shadows of Elysium, hence; and rest
Be not with mortal accidents opprest;
No care of yours it is; you know, 'tis ours.
The more delay'd, delighted. Be content;
His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.
Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in
Our temple was he married.-Rise, and fade!
And happier much by his affliction made.
This tablet lay upon his breast; wherein
Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine;
And so, away: no further with your din
Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.-
Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline. [Ascends.
Sici. He came in thunder; his celestial breath
Was sulphurous to smell: the holy eagle
Stoop’d, as to foot us: his ascension is
More sweet than our bless'd fields: his royal bird As great Sicilius' beir.
Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak, 1 Bro When once he was mature for man, As when his god is pleas’d. In Britain where was he
Thanks, Jupiter. That could stand up his parallel
Sici. The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd
His radiant roof:-Away! and, to be blest,
Let us with care perform his great bebest.
(G!lcsts vanish. Moth. With marriage wherefore was he mock'd, Post. [Waking.) Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire, To be exil'd, and thrown.
A father to me: and thou hast created
A mother, and two brothers : But (O scorn!)
Gone! they went hence so soon as they were born. Sici. Why did you suffer Iachimo,
And so I am awake.—Poor wretches, that depend Slight thing of Italy,
On greatuess' favour, dream as I have done;
Many dream not to find, neither deserve,
That have this golden chance, and know not why. 2 Bro For this, from stiller seats we came,
What fairies haunt this ground? A book ? O, raro
Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment
Nobler than that it covers : let thy effects
So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers,
As good as promise. 1 Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath
(Reads.] When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unTo Cymbeline perform’d:
known, without seeking find, and be embraced by u Then Jupiter, thou king of gods,
piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedu, Why hast thou thus adjourn'd
shall be lopped branches, which, being dead many The graces for his merits due;
years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock Being all to dolours turn'a ?
and freshly grow; then shall Posthumus end hu Sici. Thy crystal window ope; look out;
niseries, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace No longer exercise,
and plenty. Upon a valiant race, thy harsh
'Tis still a dream; or else such stuff as marlmen And potent injuries :
Tongue, and brain not: either both, or nothing : Moth, Since, Jupiter, our son is good,
Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such
As sense cannot untie. Be what it is,
I'll keep, if but for syn.pathy.
Gaol. Come, sir, are you ready for death ?
Post. Over-roasted rather: ready long ago.
Guol. Hanging is the word, sir; if you be reaa JUPITER descends in thunder and lightning, sitting for that, you are well cookd.
upon an eagle: he throws a thunderbolt. The Post. So, if I prove a good repast to the specta Ghosts fall on their knees.
tors, the dish pays the shot.
Gaol. A heavy reckoning for you, sir : But the Cym.
No tidings of him? comfort is, you shall be called to no more payments, Pis. He hath been search'd among the dead and fear no more tavern bills; which are often the sad
living, ness of parting, as the procuring of mirth: you But no trace of him. come in faint for want of meat, depart reeling with Cym.
To my grief, I am too much drink; sorry that you have paid too much, The heir of his reward; which I will add and sorry that you are paid too much; purse and To you the liver, heart, and brain of Britain, brain both empty: the brain the heavier for being [ To BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS. too light, the purse too light, being drawn of heavi- By whom I grant she lives: 'Tis now the time ness : O! of this contradiction you shall now be To ask of whence you are:-report it. quit.-0, the charity of a penny cord! it sums up Bel.
Sir, thousands in a trice: you have no true debitor and In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen : creditor but it; of what's past, is, and to come, the Further to boast, were neither true nor modest, discharge :-Your neck, sir, is pen, book, and count. Unless I add, we are honest. ers; so the acquittance follows.
Bow your knees • Post. I am merrier to die, than thou art to live. Arise, my knights o'the battle : I create you
Gaol. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the Companions to our person, and will fit you tooth-ache : But a man that were to sleep your sleep, With dignities becoming your estates. and a hangman to help him to bed, I think, he would change places with his officer: for, look you,
Enter CORNELius and Ladies. sir, you know not which way you shall go.
There's business in these faces :- Why so sadly Post. Yes, indeed do I, fellow.
Greet you our victory? you look like Romans, Gaol. Your death has eyes in's head then; I have and not o'the court of Britain. not seen him so pictured: you must either be di- Cor.
Hail, great king! rected by some that take upon them to know; or To sour your happiness, I must report take upon yourself that, which I am sure you do The queen is dead. not know; or jump the after-enquiry on your own Cym.
Whom worse than a physician peril: and how you shall speed in your journey's Would this report become? But I consider, end, I think you'll never return to tell one. By medicine life may be prolong'd, yet death
Post. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes Will seize the doctor too. --How ended she ? to direct them the way I am going, but such as Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life; wink, and will not use them.
Which, being cruel to the world, concluded Gaol. What an infinite mock is this, that a man Most cruel to herself. What she contess'd should have the best use of eyes, to see the way of I will report, so please you: These her women blindness! I am sure, hanging's the way of winking. Can trip me, if I err; who, with wet cheeks,
Were present when she finish'd.
Prythee, say. Mess. Knock off his manacles; bring your pri- Cor. First, she confess'd she never lov'd you; soner to the king.
only Post. Thou bringest good news;-I am called to Affected greatness got by you, not you: be made free.
Married your royalty, was wife to your place; Gaol. I'll be hanged then.
Abhorr'd your person. Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no Cym.
She alone knew this: bolts for the dead.
And, but she spoke it dying, I would not (Ereunt Posthumus and Messenger. Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed. Gaol. Unless a man would marry a gallows, and Cor. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone.
love Yet, on my conscience, there are verier knaves de- With such integrity, she did confess sire to live, for all he be a Roman: and there be Was as a scorpion to her sight; whose life, some of them too, that die against their wills; so But that her tight prevented it, she had should I, if I were one. I would we were all of one Ta'en off by poison. mind, and one mind good ; 0, there were desolation Cym.
O most delicate fiend ! of gaolers, and gallowses ! I speak against my pre- Who is't can read a woman ?-Is there more ? sent profit; but my wish bath a preferment in’t. Cor. More, sir, and worse. She did confess, she
For you a mortal mineral; which, being took, SCENE V.-Cymbeline's Tent. Should by the minute feed on life, and, ling’ring,
By inches waste you: In which time she purpos'd, Enter CYMBELINE, Belarius, GUIDERIUS, ARVI. By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to RAGUS, PISANIO, Lords, Officers, and Attendants.
O’ercome you with her show : yes, and in time, Cym. Stand by my side, vou whom the gods have (When she had fitted you with her craft,) to work made
Her son into the adoption of the crown. Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart, But failing of her end by his strange absence, That the poor soldier, that so richly fought, Grew shameless-desperate; open'd, in despite Whose rags sham'd gilded arms, whose naked breast Of heaven and men, her purposes ; repented Stepp'd before targe of proof, cannot be found: The evils she hatch'd were not effected; so, He shall be happy that can find him, if
Despairing, died. Our grace can make him so.
Heard you all this, her women ? Bel.
I never saw
Lady. We did so, please your highness.
Mine ears that heard her flattery; nor any heart,
That thought her like her seeming: it had been I'll be thy master : Walk with me; speak freely. vicious,
[CYMBELINE and Imogen converse apari. To have mistrusted her: yet, O my daughter ! Bel. Is not this boy reviv'd from death ? That it was folly in me, thou may'st say,
One sand another And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all ! Not more resembles : That sweet rosy lad,
Who died, and was Fidele :-W Irat think you ? Enter Lucius, Iachimo, the Soothsayer, and other
Gui. The same dead thing alive. [forbear; Roman prisoners, guarded; Posthumus behind, Bel. Peace, peace! see further; he eyes us not; and IMOGEN.
Creatures may be alike: were't he, I am sure Thou com’st not, Caius, now for tribute; that He would have spoke to us. The Britons have raz'd out, though with the loss
But we saw him dead. Of many a bold one; whose kinsmen have made suit, Bel. Be silent; let's see further. That their good souls may be appeas'd with
It is my mistress : slaughter
[Aside. Of you their captives, which ourselves have granted : Since she is living, let the time run on So, think you of your estate.
To good, or bad. Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war: the day
[CYMBELINE and I MOGEN come forward. Was yours by accident; had it gone with us, Сут. Come, stand thou by our side; We should not, when the blood was cool, have Make thy demand aloud.—Sir, (to lach.) ster you threaten'd
forth; Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods Give answer to this boy, and do it freely; Will bave it thus, that nothing but our lives Or, by our greatness, and the grace of it, May be callid ransome, let it come: sufficeth, Which is our honour, bitter torture shall A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer: Winnow the truth from falsehood.-On, speak to him. Augustus lives to think on't: and so much
Imo. My boon is, that this gentleman may render For my peculiar care. This one thing only Of whom he had this ring. I will entreat; My boy, a Briton born,
What's that to him ? Let him be ransom'd: never master bad
(Aside, A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
Cym. That diamond upon your finger say, So tender over his occasions, true,
How came it yours ? So feat, so nurse-like : let his virtue join
Iach. Thou'lt torture me to leave upspoken that With my request, which, I'll make bold, your Which, to be spoke, would torture thee. highness
How ! me ? Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm,
lach. I am glad to be constrain’d to utter that Though he have serv'd a Roman: save him, sir,
which And spare no blood beside.
Torments me to conceal. By villainy Суп. .
I have surely seen him: I got this ring; 'twas Leonatus' jewel : His favour is familiar to me.
Whom thou did'st banish; and (which more, may Boy, thou hast look'd thyself into my grace,
grieve thee, And art mine own.—I know not why, nor wherefore, As it doth me,) a nobler sir ne'er liv'd [lord ? To say, live, boy: ne'er thank thy master; live: "Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,
Cym. All that belongs to this. Fitting my bounty, and thy state, I'll give it;
That paragon, thy daughter,Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner,
For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits The noblest ta'en.
Quail to remember, -Give me leave; I faint. Imo.
I humbly thank your highness. Cym. My daughter! what of her? Renew thy Luc. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad;
strength: And yet, I know, thou wilt.
I had rather thou should'st live while nature will, Imo. No, no! alack,
Than die ere I hear more : strive, man, and speak. There's other work in hand; I see a thing
lach. Upon a time, (unhappy was the clock Bitter to me as death: your life, good master, That struck the hour!) it was in Rome, (accurs'd Must shuffle for itself.
The mansion where!) 'twas at a feast, (O’woulil Luc.
boy disdains me, Our viands had been poison'd! or, at least, He leaves me, scorns me : Briefly die their joys, Those which I heard to head!) the good Posthumus, That place them on the truth of girls and boys.- (What should I say? he was too good, to be Why stands he so perplex'd ?
Where ill men were; and was the best of all Сут. .
What would'st thou, boy? Among’st the rar'st of good ones,) sitting sadly, I love thee more and more; think more and more Hearing us praise our loves of Italy What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st on ? For beauty that made barren the swell’d boast speak,
Of him that best could speak: for feature, laming Wilt have him live ? Is he thy kin? thy friend ? The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerva,
Imo. He is a Roman; no more kin to me, Postures beyond brief nature ; for condition, Than I to your highness; who, being born your A shop of all the qualities that man vassal,
Loves woman for; besides, that hook of wiving, Am something nearer.
Fairness, which strikes the eye:-
I stand on fire: Imo. I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please
Come to the matter. To give me hearing.
All too soon I shall, Сут.
Ay, with all my heart, Unless thou would'st grieve quickly.--This PostAnd iend my best attention. What's thy name?
húmus, Imo Fidele, sii.
(Most like a noble lord in love, and one Cym
Thou art my good youth, my page; That had a royal lover,) took his lint;