An honest one, I warrant; who deserv'd

Britons must take; For me, my ransome's death;
So long a breeding, as his white beard came to, On either side I come to spend my breath;
In doing this for his country ;-athwart the lane, Which neither here I'll keep, nor bear again,
He, with two striplings, (lads more like to run But end it by some means for Imogen.
The country base, than to commit such slaughter ;
With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer

Enter Two British Captains, and Soldiers.
Than those for preservation cas'd, or shame,)
Made good the passage; cry'd to those that iled,

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.
Like beasts, which you shun beastly; and may save,

1 Cap.

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,

there?

Post. A Roman;
(For three performers are the file, when all
The rest do nothing,) with this word, stand, stand,

Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds

Had answer'd him.
Accommodated by the place, more charming,
With their own nobleness, (which could have turn'd

2 Cap.

Lay hands on him; a dog!

A leg of Rome shall not return to tell
A distaff to a lance,) gilded pale looks,
Part, shame, part, spirit renewd; that some, turn's What crows have pick'd them here: He brags his

service
coward
But by example (0, a sin in war,

As if he were of note : bring him to the king.
Daman'd in the first beginners!) 'gan to look
The way that they did, and to grin like lions

Enter CYMBELINE, attended; BELARIES, GUIDERNT,
Upon the pikes o’the hunters. Then began

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

out.
Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles; slaves,
The strides they victors made: And now our cowards

SCENE IV.--A Prison.
(Like fragments in hard voyages,) became
The life o' the need; having found the back-door open

Enter POSTHUMUS, and Two Gaolers.
Of the unguarded hearts, heavens, how they wound !
Some, slain before; some, dying; some, their friends I Gaol. You shall not now be stolen, you have
O'er-borne i' the former wave : ten, cbac'd by one,

locks upon you ;
Are now cach one the slaughter-man of twenty: So, graze, as you find pasture.
Those, that would die or ere resist, are grown

2 Gaol.

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
Rather to wonder at the things you hear,

Groan so in perpetuity, than be cur'd
Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon't, By the sure physician, death ; who is the key
And vent it for a mockery? Here is one:

To unbar these locks. My conscience! thou art
Two boys, an old man twice a boy, a lune,

fetter'd

(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,
Post.

'Lack, to what end? Then, free for ever! Is't enough, I am sorry?
Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his friend : So children temporal fathers do appease ;
For if he'll do, as he is made to do,

Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent ?
I know, he'll quickly fly my friendship too.

I cannot do it better than in gyves,
You have put me into rhyme.

Desir’d, more than constrain'd: to satisfy,
Lord.

Farewell; you are angry. If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take

[Erit. No stricter render of ine, than my all.
Post. Still going ?- This is a lord! O noble I know, you are more clement than vile men,
misery!

Who of their broken debtors take a third,
To be i'the field, and ask, what news, of me! A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again
To-day, how many would have given their honours On their abatement: that's not my desire:
To have sav'd their carcasses ? took heel to do't, For Imogen's dear life, take mine; and though
And yet died too? I, in mine own woe charm’d, 'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coin'd it:
Could not find death, where I did hear him groan; "Tween man and man, they weigh not every stamp;
Nor feel him, where he struck: Being an ugly Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake:
monster,

You rather mine, being yours : And so, great powers,
'Tis strange, he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds, If you will take this audit, take this life,
Sweet words; or hath more ministers than we And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen!
That draw his knives i’ the war.-Well, I will find I'll speak to thee in silence

[He sleeps.
him :
For being now a favourer to the Roman,

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
They circle PostHUMUS round, as he lies sleeping. Offend our hearing: hush!

-How dare you ghosts,

Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt you know,
Sici. No more, thou thunder-master, show

Sky.planted, batters all rebelling coasts?
Thy spite on mortal flies:

Poor shadows of Elysium, hence; and rest
With Mars fall out, with Juno chide, Upon your never-withering banks of flowers :
That thy adulteries

Be not with mortal accidents opprest;
Rates and revenges.

No care of yours it is; you know, 'tis ours.
Hath my poor boy done aught but well, Whom best I love, I cross; to make my gift,
Whose face I never saw ?

The more delay'd, delighted. Be content;
I died, whilst in the womb he stay'd Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift:
Attending Nature's law.

His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.
Whose father then (as men report,

Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in
Thou orphan's father art,)

Our temple was he married.-Rise, and fade!
Thou should'st have been, and shielded him He shall be lord of lady Imogen,
From this earth-vexing smart.

And happier much by his affliction made.
Moth Lucina lent not me her aid,

This tablet lay upon his breast; wherein
But took une in my throes;

Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine;
That from me was Posthumus ript,

And so, away: no further with your din
Came crying 'mongst his foes,

Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.-
A thing of pity!

Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline. [Ascends.

Sici. He came in thunder; his celestial breath
Sict. Great nature, like his ancestry,
Moulded the stuff so fair,

Was sulphurous to smell: the holy eagle
That he deserv'd the praise o' the world,

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

AU.

Thanks, Jupiter. That could stand up his parallel

Sici. The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd
Or fruitful object be

His radiant roof:-Away! and, to be blest,
In eye of Imogen, that best

Let us with care perform his great bebest.
Could deem his dignity ?

(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.

and begot
From Leonati' seat, and cast

A father to me: and thou hast created
From her his dearest one,

A mother, and two brothers : But (O scorn!)
Sweet Imogen ?

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;
To taint his nobler heart and brain Wake, and find nothing.-But, alas, I swerve:
With needless jealousy;

Many dream not to find, neither deserve,
And to become the geck and scorn And yet are steep'd in favours; so am I,
O’ the other's villainy ?

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

one!
Our parents, and us twain,
That, striking in our country's cause,

Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment
Fell bravely, and were slain ;

Nobler than that it covers : let thy effects
Our fealty, and Tenantius' right,

So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers,
With honour to maintain.

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
Take off his miseries.

As sense cannot untie. Be what it is,
Sici. Peep through thy marble mansion, help! The action of iny life is like it, which
Or we poor ghosts will cry

I'll keep, if but for syn.pathy.
To the shining synod of the rest

Re-enter Gaolers.
Against thy deity.
2 Bro. Help, Jupiter; or we appeal,

Gaol. Come, sir, are you ready for death ?
And from thy justice fly.

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.

Cym.

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.
Enter a Messenger,

Сут.

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

Ereunt.

had

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.

Cym.

Heard you all this, her women ? Bel.

I never saw

Lady. We did so, please your highness.
Such noble fury in so poor a thing !

Сут. .
Such precious deeds in one that promis'd nought Were not in fault, for she was beautiful!
But beggary and poor looks.

Mine ears that heard her flattery; nor any heart,

Mine eyes

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,

Arv.

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

Gui.

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

Pis.

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,

Post.

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

Cym.

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;

lach.

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.

The

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:-
Сут. .
Wherefore ey'st him so ? Cym.

I stand on fire: Imo. I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please

Come to the matter. To give me hearing.

lach.

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;