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Gods! if you

Jach. 'Tis their fresh supplies.

Luc. It is a day turu'd strangely: or betimes
SCENEI. - A field between the British and Roman Let's re-enforce, or fly!

Enter Postitue's, with a bloody handlerchief: SCENE III. – Another part of the field.
Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for I wish'd Enter PostHCMU's, and a British Lord.
Thou should'st be colour'd thus. You married ones, Lord. Cam'st thou from where they made the
If each of you would take this course, how many stand?
Must murder wives much better than themselves, Post. I did :
For wrying but a little! - 0, Pisanio!

Though you, it seems, come from the fliers.
Every good servant does not all commands:

Lord. I did.
Nobond, but to do just ones.

Post. No blame be to you, sir; for all was lost,
Should have ta’en vengeance on my faults, I never Put that the heavens fought. The king himself
Had liv'd to put on this: so had you saved of his wings destitute, the army broken,
The noble Imogen to repent; and struck

And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying
Me, wretch, more worth your vengeance. But, alack! Through a strait lane; the enemy full-hearted,
You snatch some hence for little faults; that's love, Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work
To have them fall no more: you some permit More plentiful, than tools to do't, struck down
To second ills with ills, each elder worse;

Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some falling
And make them dread it to the doer's thrift,

Merely through fear; that the straight pass was But Imogen is your own. Do your best wills,

damm'd And make me bless'd to obey! - I am brought hither With death men, hurt behind, and covards living Among the Italian gentry, and to fight

To die with lengthen'd slame. Against my lady's kingdom: 'tis enough,

Lord. Where was this lane?
That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistress; peace! Post. Close by the battle, ditch'd, and wall’d with
I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good hea- turf;

Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier,-
Hear patiently my purpose! I'll disrobe me
Of these Italian weeds, and suit myself

An honest one, I warrant; who deserv'd

So long a breeding, as his white beard came to, As does a Briton peasant! so I'll fight

In doing this for his country; athwart the lane, Against the part I come with! so I'll die

He, with two striplings, (lads more like to run For thee, o Imogen, even for whom my life

The country base, than to commit such slaughter; Is, every breathi, a death! and thus, unknowo, With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer, Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril

Than those for preservation cas’d, or shame.) Myself I'll dedicate! Let me make men know

Made good the passage; cry’d to those that led,
More valour in me, than my habits show!

Our Briton's harts die flying, not our men:
Gods, put the strength o'the Leonati in me!
To shame the guise o’the world, Lwill begin

To darkness fleet, souls that fly backwards! Stand! The fashion, less without, and more within! (Exit. Like beasts, which you shun beastly; and may sapa

Or we are Romans, and will give you that
SCENE II. - The same.

But to look back in frown: stand, stund! These

three, Enter, at one side, Lucius, JACIMO, and the Ro- Three thousand confident, in act as many, man army; at the other side, the British army; (For three performers are the file, when all, Leonatus Postituts following it, like a poor sol- The rest do nothing.) with this word, stund, stanch dier. They march over, and go out. Alarums. Then Accommodated by the place, more charming, enter again, in skirmish, lacummo and Postuumus; With their own nobleness, (which could have turnd he vanquisheth and disarmeth Iacuiuo, and then A distafl

' to a lance,) gilded pale looks, leaves him.

Part, shame, part, spirit renew'd; that some,
Iach. The heaviness and guilt within my bosom coward
Takes oil my manhood: I have belied a lady, But by example, (0, a sin in war,
The princess of this country, and the air on't Damn'd in the first beginners !) ’gan to look
Revengingly enfeebles me; or could this carl, The way that they did, and to grin lile lions
A very drudge of nature's, have subdu'd me, Upon the pikes o'the hunters. Then began
In my profession? Knighthoods and honours, borne A stop i'the chaser, a retire; anon,
As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn.

A rout, confusion thick. Forthwith, they fig
If that thy gentry, Britain, go before

Chickens , the way which they stoop'd eagles : This lout, as he exceeds our lords, the odds

slaves, Is, that we scarce are men, and you are gods. The strides they victors made: and now our

[Exit. cowards The battle continues; the Britons fly; Cymbeline (Like fragments in hard voyages,) became is taken ; then enter, to his rescue, Beladius, Gu1- The life o’the need; having found the back-dom DERIUS and ARVIRAGUS.

Bel. Stand, stand! We have the advantage of the of the unguarded hearts, Heavens, how they

Some, slain before; some, dying; some, their friends
The lane is guarded: nothing routs us, but
The villainy of our fears.

O’er-borne i'the former wave: ten, chac’d by one,

Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty: Arv. Stand, stand, and fight!

Those, that would die or ere resist, are growo Enter Posthumus, and seconds the Britons. They The mortal bugs o'the field. rescue Cymbeline, and exeunt. Then, enter Lucius, Lord. This was strange chance : Iachimo, and Imogex.

A narrow lane! an old man, and two boys! Luc. Away, boy, from the troops, and save thyself! Post. Nay, do not wonder at it! You are made For friends kill friends, and the disorder's such Rather to wonder at the things you hear, As war were hood-wink’a.

Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon't,




than we

And vent it for a mockery? Here is one:

Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent?
Two boys, an old man twice a boy, a lane,

I canrot do it better, than in gyves,
Preserv'd the Britons, was the Romans' bane. Desir'd, more than constrain’d: to satisfy,
Lord. Nay, be not angry, sir !

If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take
Post. 'Lack, to what end?

No stricter render of me, than my all.
Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his friend: I know, you are more clement, than vile men,
For if he'll do, as he is made to do,

Who of their broken debtors take a third,
I know, he'll quickly fly my friendship too. A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again
You have put me into rhyme.

On their abatement; that's not my desire:
Lord. Farewell! you are angry!

[Exit. For Imogen's dear life, take mine; and though Post. Still going? — This is a lord! O noble mi- 'Tis not so dear, yet ’tis a life; you coin'd it:

'Tween man and man, they weigh not every stamp;
To be i’the field, and ask, what news, of me! Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake:
To-day, how many would have given their honours You rather mine, being yours. And so, great pow-
To have sav'd their carcasses ? took heel to do't,

And yet died too? I, in mine own woe charm’d, If you will take this andit, take this life,
Could not find death, where I did hear him goan; And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen!
Nor feel him, where he struck: being an ugly mon- I'll speak to thee in silence.

[He sleeps. ster,

Solemn inusic. Enter, as an apparition, SICILIUS 'Tis strange, he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds, LEONATUS, father to Posthum0s, an old Man, at Sweet words; or hath more min

tired like a warrior; leading in his hand an anThat draw his knives i'the war. — Well, I will find cient Matron, his wife, and mother to PostiiumUS, him !

with Music before them. Then, after other Music, For being now a favourer to the Roman,

follow the two young Leonati, brothers to PostNo more a Briton, I have re-sum'd again

HUBUS, with wounds, as they died in the wars. The part I came in. Fight I will no more,

They circle Posthumus round, as he lies sleeping:
But yield me to the veriest hind, that shall

Sici. No more, thou thunder-master, show
Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is Thy spite on mortal flies:
Ilere made by the Romans; great the answer be With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,
Britons must take: for me, my ransome's death; That thy adulteries
On either side I come to spend my breath;

Rates and revenges.
Which neither here I'll keep, nor bear again, Hath my poor boy done aught but well,
But end it by some means for Imogen.

Whose face I never saw ?
Enter two British Captains, and Soldiers. I died, whilst in the womb he stay'd
1 Cap. Great Jupiter be prais'd! Lucius is taken! Attending Nature's law.
'Tis thought, the old man and his sons were angels. Whose father then (as men report,

2 Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly habit, Thou orphans' father art,)
That gave the affront with them.

Thou should'st have been, and shielded him
1 Cap. So 'tis reported:

From this earth-vexing smart.
But none of them can be found. Stand! who is Moth. Lucina lent not me her aid,

But took me in my throes;
Post. A Roman;

That from me was Posthúmns ript,
Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds Came crying ʼmongst his foes,
Had answer'd him.

A thing of pity!
2 Cap. Lay hands on him; a dog!

Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry,
A leg of Rome shall not return to tell

Moulded the stuff so fair,
What crows have peck'd them here: he brags his That he deserv'd the praise o'the world,

As great Sicilius' heir.
As if he were of note: bring him to the king! 1 Bro. When once he was mature for man,
Enter Cymbeline, attended; BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS,

In Britain where was he
Arviragus, Pisanio, and Roman Captives. The That could stand up his parallel ;
Captains present Posthumus to Cymbeline, who de-

Or fruitful object be
livers him over to a Gaoler ; after which, all In eye of Imogen, that best

Could deem his dignity?

Moth. With marriage wherefore was he mock'd,
SCENE IV.- A prison.

To be exil'd, and thrown
Enter Posthumus, unt iwo Gaolers. From Leonati' seat, and cast
1 Gaol. You shall not now be stolen, you have

From her his dearest one,
locks upon you;

Sweet Imogen ?
So graze, as you find pasture.

Sici. Why did you suffer Iachimo,
2 Gaol. Ay, or a stomach. (Exeunt Gaolers. Slight thing of Italy,
Post. Most welcome, bondage! for thou art a way, To taiat his nobler heart and brain
I think, to liberty! Yet am I better,

With needless jealousy;
Than one that's sick o'the gout; since he had rather And to become the geck and scorn
Groan so in perpetuity, than be cur'd

O'the other's villainy?
By the sure physician, death ; who is the key 2 Bro. For this, from stiller seats we came,
To unbar these locks. My conscience! thou art Our parents, and us twain,

That, striking in our country's cause,
More than my shanks, and wrists. You, good gods, Fell bravely, and were slain ;
give me

Our fealty, and Tenantius' right,
The penitent instrument, to pick that bolt,

With honour to maintain.
Then, free for ever! Is't enough, I am sorry? 1 Bro. Like hardiment Posthumns hath
So children temporal fathers do appease;

To Cymbeline perform’d:

go out.

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Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods,

mus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate, and Why hast thou thus adjourn'd

flourish in peace and plenty. The graces for his merits due;

'Tis still a dream; or else such stuff as madmen Being all to dolours turn'd?

Tongue, and brain not: either both, or nothing:
Sici. Thy crystal window ope! look out! Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such
No longer exercise,

As sense cannot untie. Be what it is,
Upon a valiant race, thy harsh

The action of my life is like it, which And potent injuries !

l'll keep, if but for sympathy. Moth. Since, Jupiter, our son is good,

Re-enter Gaolers. Take off his miseries!

Gaol. Come, sir, are you ready for death? Sici. Peep through thy marble mansion; help! Post. Over-roasted rather: ready long ago. Or we poor ghosts will cry

Gaol. Hanging is the word , sir; if you be ready To the shining synod of the rest,

for that, you are well cooked. Against thy deity!

Post. So, if I prove a good repast to the specta2 Bro. Help, Jupiter ! or we appeal,

tors, the dish pays the shot. And from thy justice fly!

Gaol. A heavy reckoning for you, sir! Bat the Jupiter descends in thunder and lightning, sitting confort is, you shall be called to no more payments, upon an eagle; he throws a thunder-bolt. The fear no more tavern bills; which are often the Ghosts fall on their knees.

sadness of parting, as the procuring of mirth: you Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region low, come in faint for want of meat, depart reeling with Oftend our hearing; hush! - How dare you, ghosts, too much drink; sorry that you have paid too much; Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt, you know, and sorry that you are paid too much; purse and

Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts? brain both empty: the brain the hearier for being Poor shadows of Elysium, hence! and rest too light, the purse too light, being drawn of hear

Upon your never-withering banks of flowers ! iness? 0! of this contradiction you shall now be Be not with mortal accidents opprest;

quit!-- 0 the charity of a penny cord! it sums up No care of yours it is: you know, 'tis ours. thousands in a trice: you have no true debitor and Whom best I love, I cross; to make my gift, creditor but it; of what's past, is, and to come,

The more delay'd, delighted. Be content! the discharge. — Your neck, sir, is pen, book, and Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift: counters; so the acquittance follows.

His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent. Post. I am merrier to die, than thou art to live. Our Jovial star reign’d at his birth, and in

Gaol. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the Our temple was he married. — Rise, and fade! toothach: but a man that were to sleep your sleep, He shall be lord of lady Imogen,

and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he would And happier much by his alfiction made. change places with his officer; for, look you, sir

, This tablet lay upon his breast; wherein

you know not which way you shall go. Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine; Post. Yes, indeed, do I, fellow ! And so, away! no further with your din

Gaol. Your death hus eyes in's head then; I hare Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.- not seen him so pictured: you must either be diMount, eagle, to my palace crystalline! [Ascends. rected by some that take upon then to know; of Sici. He came in thunder; his celestial breath take upon yourself that, which I am sure you do not Was sulphurous to smell : the holy eagle know; or jump the after-ioquiry on your own peril: Stoop’d, as to foot us: his ascension is

and how you shall speed in your journey’s end, I More sweet, thau our bless'd fields: his royal bird think you'll never return to tell one. Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak, Post. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want ers As when his god is pleas'd.

to direct them the way I am going, but such as All. Thanks, Jupiter!

wink, and will not use them. Sici. The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd Guol. What an infinite mock is this, that a man His radiant roof. - Away! and, to be blest,

should have the best use of eyes, to see the war of Let us with care perform his great behest. blindness! I am sure, hanging's the way of wiaking.

[Ghosts vanish.

Enter a Messenger. Post. (Waking.] Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire, Mess. Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner and begot

to the king. A father to me: and thou hast created

Post. Thou bringest good news; A mother, and two brothers. But (O scorn!) be made free. Gone! they went hence so soon, as they were born ; Gaol. I'll be hanged then. And so I am awake. — Poor wretches, that depend Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; 19 On greatness' favour, dream as I have done; bolts for the dead. Wake, and find nothing. - But, alas, I swerve!

(Exeunt Posthumus and Messenger, Many dream not to find, neither deserve,

Gaol. Unless a man would marry a gallows, and And yet are steep'd in favours; so am I,

beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. Yet, That have this golden chance, and know not why. on my conscience, there are verier knares desire to What fairies haunt this ground? A book ?O, rare one! live, for all he be’a Roman : and there be some of Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment

them too, that die against their wills; so should I Nobler, than it covers : let thy effects

if I were one. I would we were all of one mind, So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers, and one mind good; 0, there were desolation of As good as promise.

gaolers, and gallowses. I speak against my present [Reads.] When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself profit; but my wish hath a preferment in't. (Eseus unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced

SCENE V. - CYMBELINE's Tent. by a piece of tender air ; and when from a stately Enter Cymbeline, BelArius, Guiderius

, AaviRAGIS cedar shall be lopped branches, which, being dead Pisano, Lords, officers, and Attendants. many years, shall after revive , be jointed to the Cym. Stand by my side, you whom the gods have old stock, and freshly grow; then shall Posthu- made

I am called to

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Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart, Despairing, died.
That the poor soldier, that so richly fought, Cym. Heard you all this, her women?
Whoserags sham'd gilded arms, whose naked breast Lady. We did so, please your highness.
Stepp'd before targe of proof, cannot be found: Cym. Mine eyes
He shall be happy that can find him, if

Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;
Our grace can make him so.

Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart,
Bel. I never saw

That thought her like her seeming; it had been Such noble fury in so poor a thing;

Such precious deeds in one that promis'd nonght To have mistrusted her: yet, O my daughter!
But beggary and poor looks.

That it was folly in me, thou may'st say,
Cym. No tidings of him?

And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all!
Pis. He hath been search'd among the dead and Enter Lucius, Lachimo, the Sothsayer and other

Roman Prisoners, guarded; Postitats behind, But no trace of him.

and Imogen. Cym. To my grief, I am

Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute; that The heir of his reward; which I will add

The Britons have raz'd out, though with the loss To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain, Of many a bold one; whose kinsmen have made suit,

(To Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus. That their good souls may be appeas'd with slaughter By whom, I grant, she lives. 'Tis now the time Of you their captives, which ourself have granted : To ask of whence you are: - report it!

So, think of your estate.
Bel. Sir,

Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war: the day
In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen :

Was yours by accident; had it gone with us, Further to boast, were neither true nor modest, We should not, when the blood was cool, have Unless I add, we are honest.

threaten'd Cym. Bow your knees!

Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods
Arise, my knights o'the battle! I create you Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives
Companions to our person, and will fit you May be callid ransome, let it come: sufficeth,
With dignities becoming your estates.

A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer:
Enter CORNELIUS and Ladies.

Augustus lives to think on’t: and so much
There's business in these faces. - Why so sadly For my peculiar care. This one thing only
Greet you our victory? you look like Romans, I will entreat; my boy, a Briton born,
And not o'the court of Britain.

Let him be ransom'd: never master had
Cor. Hail, great king!

A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
To sour your happiness, I must report

So tender over his occasions, true,
The queen is dead.

So feat, so nurse-like: let his virtue join
Cym. Whom worse than a physician

With my request, which I'll make bold, your highness
Would this report become? But I consider, Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm,
By medicine life may be prolong'd, yet death Though he have serv'd a Roman: save him, sir,
Will seize the doctor too. How ended she? And spare no blood beside!

Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life; Cym. I have surely seen him!
Which, being cruel to the world, concluded His favour is familiar to me. —
Most cruel to herself. What she confess'd,

Boy, thou hast look'd thyself into my grace,
I will report, so please you! These her women And art mine own! I know not why, nor wherefore,
Can trip me, if I err; who, with wet cheeks, To say, live, boy! ne'er thank thy master; live!
Were present when she finish'd.

And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,
Cym. Pr'ythee, say !

Fitting my bounty, and thy state, I'll give it;
Cor. First, she confess’d she never lov'd you; only Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner,
Affected greatness got by you, not you:

The noblest ta'en.
Married your royalty, was wife to your place; Imo. I humbly thank your highness!
Abhorr'd your person.

Luc. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad!
Cym. She alone knew this:

And yet, I know, thou wilt.
And, but she spoke it dying, I would not

Imo. No, no! alack !
Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed !

There's other work in hand; I see a thing
Cor. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to Bitter to me as death: your life, good master,

Must shuffle for itself.
With such integrity, she did confess

Luc. The boy disdains me, Was as a scorpion to her sight; whose life, He leaves me, scorns me. Briefly die their joys, er tha1d? But that her flight prevented it, she had

That place them on the truth of girls and boys. —
Ta'en off by poison.

Why stands he so perplex'd ?
Cym. O most delicate fiend !

Cym. What would'st ihou, boy?
Who is't can read a woman? - Is there more ? I love thee more and more; think more and more
Cor. More, sir, and worse. She did confess,she had What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st on?
you a mortal mineral; which, being took,

Should by the minute feed on life, and, ling’ring, Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? thy friend?
By inches waste you: in which time she purpos’d, Imo. He is a Roman; no more kin to me,
By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to Than I to your highness; who, being boru your vassal,
O’ercome yeu with her show: yes, and in time, Am something nearer.
(When she had fitted you with her craft,) to work Cym. Wherefore ey'st him so?
Her son into the adoption of the crown.

Imo. I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please
But failing of her end by his strange absence, To give me hearing.
Grew shameless-desperate; open'd, in despite Cym. Ay, with all my heart,
of heaven and men, her purposes; repented And lend my best attention. What's ihy name?
The evils she hatch'd were not effected; so, Emo. Fidele, sir.

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Cym. Thou art my good youth, my page! And then a mind put in't, either our brags

T. I'll be thy master! Walk with me! speak freely! Were crack'd of kitchen trulls, or his description

A (Cymbeline and Imogen converse apart. Prov'd us unspeaking sots. Del. Is not this boy reviv'd from death ?

Cym. Nay, nay, to the purpose ! Arv. One sand another lach. Your daughter's chastity -- there it begins!

( Not more resembles. That sweet rosy lad,

He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams,
Who died, and was Fidele. -- What think you ? And she alone were cold: whereat, I, wretch!
Gui. The same dead thing alive.
Made scruple of his praise; and wager'd with him

H Bel. Peace, peace! see further! he eyes us not; Pieces of gold, 'gainst this, which then he wore

w forbear! Upon his honour'd finger, to attain

As Creatures may be alike: were't he, I am sure In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring

c He would have spoke to us.

By hers and mine adultery: he, true knight,
Gui. But we saw him dead.
No lesser of her honour confident

Bel. Be silent; let's see further!
Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring;

Ti Pis. It is

mistress :

In [Aside. And would so, had it been a carbuncle Since she is living, let the time run on, of Phoebus' wheel; and might so safely, had it

01 To good, or bad. Been all the worth of his car. Away to Britain

W [Cymbeline and Imogen come forward. Post I in this design. Well may you, sir,

А Cym. Come, stand thou by our side; Remember me at court, where I was taught

TE Make thy demand aloud !-- Sir, (To Iach.] step you of your chaste daughter the wide difference

AL forth!

'Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quench'd
Give answer to this boy, and do it freely! Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
Or, by our greatness, and the grace of it, 'Gan in your duller Britain operate
Which is our honour, bitter torture shall

Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent;
Winnow the truth from falsehood!--On,speak to him! And, to be brief, my practice so prevail’d,
Imo. My boon is, that this gentleman may render That I return’d with simular proof enough,
Of whom he had this ring.

To make the noble Leonatus mad, Post. What's that to him? [Aside. By wounding his belief in her renown

T Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say,

T Withi tokens thus, and thus; averring notes How came it yours?

of chamber-hanging, pictures, this ber bracelet, Iach. Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken that, \(0, cunning, how I got it!) nay, some marks Which, to be spoke, would torture thee.

Of secret on her person, that he could not Cym, How! me?

But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd, lach. I am glad to be constrain’d to utter that, which I having ta’en the forfeit. Whereupon, Torments me to conceal. By villainy

Methinks, I see him now,: I got this ring; 'twas Leonatus' jewel :

Post. Ay, so thou dost, Whom thou didst banish; and (which more may Italian fiend !--- Ah me, most credulous fool, grieve thee,

Egregious murderer, thief, any thing As it doth me,) a nobler sir ne'er liv'd

That's due to all the villains past, in being, 'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my lord ? To come!-0, give me cord,' or knife, or poison

, Cym. All that belongs to this.

Some upright justicer! Thou, king, send out
Iach. That paragon, thy danghter,

For tortures ingenious: it is 1
For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits That all the abhorred

things o'the earth ameod

, Quail to remember, Give me leave; I faint! By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,

Cym.My daughter! what of her? Renew thy strength: That kill'd thy daughter: -- villain-like, I lie;
I had rather thou should'st live while nature will, That caus'd a lesser villain than myself,
Than die ere I hear more: strive, man, and speak! A sacrilegious thief, to do't:--- the temple

lach. Upon a time, (unhappy was the clock Of virtue was she; yea, and she herself.
That struck the hour!) it was in Rome, (accurs'd Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
The mansion where !) 'twas at a feast, (O ’would The dogs o'the street to bay me; every vilaia
Our viands had been poison'd! or, at least, Be call'd Posthumus Leonatus; and
Those which I heav'd to head !) the good Posthumus, Be villainy less than 'twas ! - 0 Imogen!
(What should I say? he was too good to be My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen!
Where ill men were; and was the best of all Imogen, Imogen!
Amongst the rar’st of good ones,) sitting sadly, Imo. Peace, my lord! hear, hear
Hearing praise our loves of Italy

Post. Shall's have a play of this? Thoa scornfal para
For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast There lie thy part!
of him that best could speak: for feature, laming Pis. 0, gentlemen, help, help
The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerva, Mine, and your mistress! -- 0, my lord Posthumos!
Postures beyond brief nature; for condition, You ne'er Killd Imogen till now ! ---Help, help!-
A shop of all the qualities that man

Mine honour'd lady!
Loves woman for; besides, that hook of wiving, Cym. Does the world


Fairness which strikes the eye:

Post. How come these staggers on me?
Cym. I stand on fire!

Pis. Wake, my mistress !
Come to the matter!

Cym. If this be so, the gods do mean to strike **
Iach. All too soon I shall,

To death with mortal joy.
Unless thou would’st grieve quickly. - This Posthú- Pis. How fares my mistress?

Imo. O, get thee from my sight;
(Most like a noble lord in love, and one
That had a royal lover,) took his hint;

Thou gav'st me poison! dangerous fellow, hence!

Breathe not where princes are !
And, not dispraising whom we prais'd, (therein Cym. The tune of Imogen !
He was as calm, as virtue) he began

Pis. Lady,
His mistress’ picture; which by his tongue being made, The gods throw stones of sulphar on me, if

(Coming forward



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