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Gods! if you
Jach. 'Tis their fresh supplies.
Luc. It is a day turu'd strangely: or betimes
Though you, it seems, come from the fliers.
Lord. I did.
Post. No blame be to you, sir; for all was lost,
And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying
Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some falling
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?
Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier,-
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,
Our Briton's harts die flying, not our men:
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
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,
A rout, confusion thick. Forthwith, they fig
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.
Some, slain before; some, dying; some, their friends
O’er-borne i'the former wave: ten, chac’d by one,
Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty: Gui.et 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,
And vent it for a mockery? Here is one:
Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent?
I canrot do it better, than in gyves,
If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take
No stricter render of me, than my all.
Who of their broken debtors take a third,
On their abatement; that's not my desire:
[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;
[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:
Sici. No more, thou thunder-master, show
Rates and revenges.
Whose face I never saw ?
2 Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly habit, Thou orphans' father art,)
Thou should'st have been, and shielded him
From this earth-vexing smart.
But took me in my throes;
That from me was Posthúmns ript,
A thing of pity!
Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry,
Moulded the stuff so fair,
As great Sicilius' heir.
In Britain where was he
Or fruitful object be
Could deem his dignity?
Moth. With marriage wherefore was he mock'd,
To be exil'd, and thrown
From her his dearest one,
Sweet Imogen ?
Sici. Why did you suffer Iachimo,
With needless jealousy;
O'the other's villainy?
That, striking in our country's cause,
Our fealty, and Tenantius' right,
With honour to maintain.
To Cymbeline perform’d:
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:
As sense cannot untie. Be what it is,
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.
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
Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart, Despairing, died.
Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;
Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart,
That thought her like her seeming; it had been Such noble fury in so poor a thing;
That it was folly in me, thou may'st say,
And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all!
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.
Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war: the day
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
A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer:
Augustus lives to think on’t: and so much
Let him be ransom'd: never master had
A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
So tender over his occasions, true,
So feat, so nurse-like: let his virtue join
With my request, which I'll make bold, your highness
Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life; Cym. I have surely seen him!
Boy, thou hast look'd thyself into my grace,
And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,
Fitting my bounty, and thy state, I'll give it;
The noblest ta'en.
Luc. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad!
And yet, I know, thou wilt.
Imo. No, no! alack !
There's other work in hand; I see a thing
Must shuffle for itself.
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. —
Why stands he so perplex'd ?
Cym. What would'st ihou, boy?
Imo. I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please
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,
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,
Ti Pis. It is
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
'Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quench'd
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
For tortures ingenious: it is 1
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;
lach. Upon a time, (unhappy was the clock Of virtue was she; yea, and she herself.
Post. Shall's have a play of this? Thoa scornfal para
Mine honour'd lady!
Post. How come these staggers on me?
Pis. Wake, my mistress !
Cym. If this be so, the gods do mean to strike **
To death with mortal joy.
Imo. O, get thee from my sight;
Thou gav'st me poison! dangerous fellow, hence!
Breathe not where princes are !
(Striking her: she fall