Imágenes de páginas

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!

I'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: For Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region low, come in faint for want of meat, depart reeling with Offend 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 heas

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

quit!-- O 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 affliction 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 has 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 theni 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-inquiry on your own perila Stoop'd, as to foot us: his ascension is

and how you shall speed in your journey's end, I More sweet, than 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 eren 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 mano His radiant roof. -- Away! and, to be blest, should have the best use of eyes, lo see the way of Let us with care perform his great behest, blindness! I am sure, hanging's the way of wisking.

[Ghosts vanish.

Enter a Messenger: Post. (Waking.) Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire, Mess. Knock off his manucles ; bring your prisover 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 scoro!) 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; 29 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 yet are steep'd in favours; so am I,

beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. Yote 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 gallowsés. I speak against my present [Reads.] When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself profit ; but my wish hath a preferment in't. (Ereuve 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, AntiRAGA, 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 bare old stock, and freshly grow; then shall Posthu-| made

I am called 10


report it!

er tha3d? But that her fight prevented it, she had

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 nought To have mistrusted er: yet, O my daughter!
But beggary and poor looks.

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


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

Roman Prisoners, guarded; Posthumus 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 slanghter By whom, I grant, she lives. 'Tis now the time Of you their captives, which ourself have granted : To ask of whence you are :

So, think of your estate.
Bel. Sir,

Luc. Co 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 yon 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. Prythee, 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 jnys,

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. lle 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 you 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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Mine, and your mistress! - O, my lord Posthumus!

Thou gav'st me poison! dangerous fellomr, bence!

Cym. Thou art my good youtlı, my page!

And then a mind put in't, either our brags
I'll be thy master! Walk with me! speak freely! Were crack'd of litchen trulls, or his description

(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 saad another

lach. Your daughter's chastity - there it begins! Not more resembles. That sweet rosy lad, He spoke 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 Bel. Peace, peace! see further! he eyes us not; Pieces of gold, 'gainst this, which then he wore forbcar!

Upon his honour à finger, to attain
Creatures may be alike: were't he, I am sure In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring
Be 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;
Pis. It is

mistress :

(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 To good, or bad.

Been all the worth of his car. Away to Britain (Cymbeline and Imogen come forward. Post I in this design. Well may you, sir, Cym. Come, stand thou by our side;

Remember me at court, where I was taught Müke thy demand aloud !-- Sir, [To Iach.) step you of your chaste daughter the wide dillerence 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 renowa Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say, Withi tokens thus, and thus; averring notes How came it yours?

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

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

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

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

Post. Ay, so thou dost,

(Coming forward Whom thou didst banish; and (which more way 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, "Twist sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my lord ? To come!-o, give me cord, or knife, or poisoo, 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 amend,
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

Iuch. 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
Our viauds had been poison'd! or, at least, Be call'd Posthumus Leonatus; and
Those which I heard 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, Ino. Peace, my lord! hear, hear --
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy

Post. Shall's have a play of this? Thon scornfal para For beauty that made barren the swellid boast

There lie thy part !
Of him that best could speak: for feature, laming Pis. 0, gentlemen, lielp, help
The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerva,
Postures beyond brief nature; for condition, You ne'er kill'd Imogen till now ! --Help, belp!-
A shop of all the qualities that man

Minc honour'd lady!
Loves woman for; besides, that hook of wiving, Cym. Does the world go round?
Fairness which strikes the eye:

Post. How come these staggers op 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 or Jach. All too soon I shall,

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

Imo, 0, get thee from my sight;
(Most like a noble lord in love, and one
That liad a royal lover,) took his hint;

Breathe not where princes are !
And, not dispraising whom we prais'd, (therein Cym. The tube of Imogen!
He was as calm, as virtue) he began
His mistress' picture; which by his tongue being made, The gods throw stones of sulphar on me, if

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That box I gave yon was not thought by me To tell this tale of mine.
A precious thing; I had it from the queen. Cym. I am sorry for thee:
Cym. New matter still?

By thine own tongue thou art comdemn'd, and must
Imo. It poison’d me.

Endure our law. Thou art dead.
Cor. O gods !

Imo. That headless man
I left out one thing, which the queen confess’d, I thought had been my lord.
Which must approve thee honest: If Pisanio Cym. Bind the oflender,
Have, said she, given his mistress that confection

And take him from our presence!
Which I gave him for a cordial, she is serv'd Bel. Stay, sir king!
As I would serve a rat.

This man is better, than the man he slew,
Cym. What's this, Cornelius?

As well descended as thyself; and hath
Cor. The queen, sir, very oft impórtun'd me More of thee merited, than a band of Clotens
To temper poisons for her; still pretending Had ever scar for. – Let his arms alone,
The satisfaction of her knowledge, only

[To the Guard. In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs They were not born for bondage. Of no esteem: !, dreading that her purpose Cym. Why, old soldier, Was of more danger, did compound for her Wilt thou undo the worth thon art unpaid for, A certain stuff, which, being ta’en, would cease By tasting of our wrath? How of descent The present power of life; but, in short time, As good as we? All offices of nature should again

Arv. In that he spake too far.
Do their dae functions.- Have you ta'en of it? Cym. And thou shalt die for't.
Imo. Most like I did, for I was dead.

Bel. We will die all three:
Bel. My boys,

But I will prove, that two of us are as good,
There was our error.

As I have given out him.- My sons, I must,
Gui. This is sure, Fidele!

For mine own part, unfold a dangerous speech,
Imo. Why did you throw your wedded lady from Though, haply, well for you.

Arv. Your danger is Think, that you are upon a rock; and now

Ours. Throw me again.

[Embracing him. Gui. And our good his. Pust. Hang there like fruit, my soul,

Bel. Have at it then ! Till the tree die!

By leave ! - Thou had'st, great king, a subject, who Cym. How now, my flesh, my child ?

We call'd Belarius. What, mak'st thou me a dullard in this act?

Cym. What of him? he is
Wilt thou not speak to me?

A banish'd traitor.
Imo. Your blessing, sir!

[Kneeling. Bel. He it is, that hath
Bel. Though you did love this youth, I blame ye Assum'd this age: indeed, a banish'd man;

[To Guiderius and Arviragus. I know not how, a traitor. You had a motive for't.

Cym. Take him hence!
Cym. My tears, that fall,

The whole world shall not save him!
Prove holy water on thee! Imogen,

Bel. Not too hot!
Thy mother's dead!

First pay me for the nursing of thy sons ;
Imo. I am sorry for’t, my lord !

And let it be confiscate all, so soon
Cym. O, she was naught; and ’long of her it was, As I have receiv'd it.
That we meet here so strangely: but her son Cym. Nursing of my sons ?
Is gone, we know not how, nor where.

Bel. I am too blunt, and saucy: here's my knee;
Pis. My lord,

Ere I arise, I will prefer my sons ; Now fear is from me, I'll speak truth! Lord Cloten, Then, spare not the old father. Mighty sir, 13 Upon my lady's missing, came to me

These two young gentlemen, that call me father, With his sword drawn; foam'd at the mouth, and And think they are my sons, are none of mine; swore,

They are the issue of your loins, my liege, If I discover'd not which way she was gone,

And blood of your begetting. It was my instant death. By accident,

Cym. How! my issue? I had a feigned letter of my master's

Bel. So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan, Then in my pocket; which directed him

And that Belarius whom you sometime banish’d: To seek her on the mountains near to Milford; Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punishment Where, in a frenzy, in my master's garments, Itself, and all my treason; that I sufferid, Which he inforc'd from me, away he posts

Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes With unchaste purpose, and with oaths to violate (For such, and so they are, ) these twenty years Red My lady's honour: what became of him,

Have I train’d up: those arts they have, as I I further know not.

Could put into them; my breeding was, sir, as Gui. Let me end the story;

Your highness knows. Their nurse, Euriphile, I slew him there.

Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children
Cym. Marry, the gods forefend!

Upon my bavishment: I mov'd her to't;
I would not thy good deeds should from my lips Having receiv'd the punishment before,
Pluck a hard sentence: pr’ythee, valiant youth, For that which I did then : beaten for loyalty
Deny't again!

Excited me to treason. Their dear loss,
Gui. I have spoke it, and I did it.

The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shap'd
Cym. He was a prince!

Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir, Gui. A most uncivil one. The wrongs he did me, Here are your sons again; and I must lose Were nothing prince-like; for he did provoke me Two of the sweet'st companions in the world :With language, that would make me spurn the sea, The benediction of these covering heavens If it could so roar to me: I cut off's head; Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy And am right glad, he is not standing here To inlay heaven with stars.

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Whom heavens, in justice, (both on her, and her

So vanish'd: which foreshow'd our princely mach 1 1 680 CYMBELINE.

(Act V. Cym. Thou weep'st, and speak'st.

Speak, lachimo! I had you down, and might
The service, that you three have done, is more Have made you finish.
Unlike, than this thou tell’st: I lost my childreu; Tach. I am down again,

(Kneeling. If these be they, I know not how to wish

But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee, A pair of worthier sous.

As then your force did. Take that life, 'beseech you,
Bel. Be pleas'd a while!

Which I so often owe! but your ring first!
This gentleman, whom I call Polydore,

And here the bracelet of the truest priocess,
Most worthy prince, as yours, is true Guiderius: That ever swore her faith!
This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arvirágus,

Post. Kneel not to me!
Your younger princely son; he, sir, was lapp'd The power, that I have on you, is to spare you;
In a most curious mantle, wrought by the hand The inalice towards you, to forgive you. Live,
of liis queen mother, which, for more probation, And deal with others better!
I can with ease produce.

Cym. Nobly doom'd :
Cym. Guiderius had

We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-lap;
Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star;

Pardon's the word to all. -
It was a mark of wonder.

Arv. You holp us, sir,
Bel. This is he,

As you did mean indeed to be our brother;
Who hath upon him still that natural stamp: Joy'd are we, that you are.
It was wise nature's end in the donation,

Post. Your servant, prioces ! - Good my

lord of To be his evidence now.

Cym, 0, what, am I

Call forth your soothsayer. As I slept, methought,
A mother to the birth of three? Ne'er mother Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back,
Rejoic'd deliverance more. -- - Bless'd may you be, Appear’d to me, with other spritely shows
That, after this strange starting from your orbs, Of mine own kindred: when I wak’d, I found
You may reign in them now! -- Imogen, This label on my bosom; whose containing
Thou hast lost by this a kingdom!

Is so from sense in hardness, that I can
Imo. No, my lord!

Make no collection of it; let him show
I have got two worlds by't.-0, my gentle brothers, His skill in the construction.
Have we thus met? O never say hereafter,

Luc. Philarmopus!
But I am truest speaker: you call'd me brother, Sooth. Here, my good lord !
When I was but your sister; I you brothers, Luc. Read, and declare the meaning!
When you were so indeed.

Sooth. [Reads.] When as a lion's whelp shall

, to Cym. Did you e'er meet?

himself unknown, without seeking find, and be Arr. Ay, my good lord!

embraced by a piece of tender air; and when from Gui. And at first meeting lov'd;

a stately cedar shall be lopped branches,

which Continued so, until we thought he died.

being dead many years, shall after revire, te Cor. By the queen's dram she swallow'd. jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; Cym. O rare instinct !

shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain de forWhen shall I hear all through? This fierce abridge- tunate, and flourish in peace and plenty.

Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp;
Hathto it circumstantial branches, which

The fit and apt construction of thy name,
Distinction should be richin.-Where ? how liv'd you? Being Leo-natus, doth import so much :
And when came you to serve our Roman captive? The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,
How parted with your brothers ? how first met them?

(To Cymbelit
Why fled you from the court? and whíther? These, Which we call mollis aer; and mollis aer
And your three motives to the battle, with We term it mulier: which mulier, I divine,
I know not how much more, should be demanded; Is this most constant wife; who, even now,
And all the other by-dependencies

Answering the letter of the oracle,
From chance to chance; bat nor the time, nor place, Unknown to yon, unsought, were clipp'd about
Will serve our long intergatories. See,

With this most tender air.
Posthumus anchors upon Imogen ;

Cym. This hath some seeming.
And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline

, On him, her brothers, me, her master; hitting Personates thee : and thy lopp'd branches point Each object with a joy; the counterchange

Thy two sons forth; who, by Belarias stolen,
Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground,

For many years thought dead, are now revir'd, And smoke the temple with our sacrifices, - To the majestic cedar join'd; whose issue Thou art my brother; so we'll hold thee ever! Promises Britain peace and plenty.

(To Belarius.

Cym. Well,
Imo. You are my father too; and did relieveme, My peace we will begin! --- And, Caias Lucies

, To see this gracious season.

Although the victor, we submit to Caesar,
Cym. All o'erjoy'd,

And to the Roman empire; promising
Save these in bonds; let them be joyful too,

To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
For they shall taste our comfort.

We were dissuaded by our wicked queen;
Imo. My good master,
I will yet do you service.

Have laid most heavy hand.
Luc. Happy be you!

Sooth. The fingers of the powers abore do tape
Cym. The forlorn soldier, that so nobly fought,
He would have well becom'd this place, and graca, which I made known to Lncios, ere the stroke

The harmony of this peace. The vision The thankings of a king.

of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this instant Post. I am, sir,

Is full-accomplish’d: for the Roman eagle, The soldier, that did company these three From south to west on wing sparing aloft, In poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for

Lessen'd herself, and in the beams o'the sau The purpose I then follow'd. - That I was he,


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