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Here made by the Roman; great the answer be
Enter two British Captains, and Soldiers. 1 Cap. Great Jupiter be prais'd! Lucius is taken: 'Tis thought, the old man and his sons were angels. 2 Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly habit, That gave the affront with them. 1 Cap. So 'tis reported: But none of them can be found.-Stand! who there?
Post. A Roman;
Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds Had answer'd him. 2 Cap. Lay hands on him; a dog! A leg of Rome shall not return to tell, What crows have peck'd them here. He brags his service As if he were of note: bring him to the king. Enter Cymbeline, attended; Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, Pisanio, and Roman captives. The Captains present Posthumus to Cymbeline, who delivers him over to a Gaoler: after which, all go out.
SCENE IV-A prison. Enter Posthumus, and| two Gaolers.
Ay, or a stomach. [Exeunt Gaolers. Post. Most welcome, bondage! for thou art a way, I think, to liberty: Yet am I better
Than one that's sick o'the gout: since he had rather
More than my shanks, and wrists: You good gods, give me
1 Gaol. You shall not now be stolen, you have In eye of Imogen, that best locks upon you; Could deem his dignity? So, graze, as you find pasture. 2 Gaol.
The penitent instrument, to pick that bolt,
mus, with music before them. Then, after other music, follow the two young Leonati, brothers to Posthumus, with wounds, as they died in the wars. They circle Posthumus round, as he lies sleeping.
Sici. No more, thou thunder-master, show Thy spite on mortal flies: With Mars fall out, with Juno chide, That thy adulteries
Rates and revenges.
(3) This scene is supposed not to be Shakspeare's, but foisted in by the Players for mere show.
Hath my poor boy done aught but well,
I died, whilst in the womb he staid
Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him
Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry,
1 Bro. When once he was mature for man,
Moth. With marriage wherefore was he mock'd,
Sici. Why did you suffer Iachimo,
To taint his nobler heart and brain
And to become the geck and scorn
2 Bro. For this, from stiller seats we came, Our parents, and us twain, That, striking in our country's cause,
Fell bravely, and were slain; Our fealty, and Tenantius' right,
With honour to maintain.
1 Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath To Cymbeline perform'd: Then Jupiter, thou king of gods, Why hast thou thus The graces for his merits due; Being all to dolours turn'd?
Sici. Thy crystal window ope; look out; No longer exercise,
Upon a valiant race, thy harsh
And potent injuries:
Moth. Since, Jupiter, our son is good,
Sici. Peep through thy marble mansion; help! Or we poor ghosts will cry To the shining synod of the rest,
He sleeps. Solemn music.3 Enter, as an apparition, Sicilius Leonatus, father to Posthumus, an old man, attired like a warrior; leading in his hand an
ancient Matron, his wife, and mother to Posthu-Jupiter descends in thunder and lightning, sitting upon an Eagle; he throws a thunder-bolt. The Ghosts fall on their knees.
Against thy deity.
2 Bro. Help, Jupiter; or we appeal, And from thy justice fly.
(4) The fool. 3 F
Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region low,
Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts? Poor shadows of Elysium, hence and rest Upon your never-withering banks of flowers: Be not with mortal accidents opprest;
Gaol. A heavy reckoning for you, sir: But the comfort is, you shall be called to no more payments, fear no more tavern bills; which are often the sadness of parting, as the procuring of mirth: you come in faint for want of meat, depart reeling with too much drink; sorry that you have paid too much, and sorry that you are paid too much; purse and brain both empty: the brain the heavier for being too light, the purse too light, being drawn of heaviness: O! of this contradiction you shall now be quit.-O the charity of a penny cord! it sums up fade!-thousands in a trice: you have no true debtor and creditor but it; of what's past, is, and to come, the discharge:-Your neck, sir, is pen, book, and counters; so the acquittance follows.
No care of yours it is, you know, 'tis ours. Whom best I love, I cross; to make my gift,
The more delay'd, delighted. Be content; Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift:
His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.
And happier much by his affliction made. This tablet lay upon his breast; wherein
Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine; And so, away: no further with your din Express impatience, lest stir you up mine.Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline.
Sici. He came in thunder; his celestial breath
Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment
[Reads.] When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches, which, being dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow: then shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace and plenty.
Post. So, if I prove a good repast to the spectators, the dish pays the shot.
'Tis still a dream; or else such stuff as madmen
Gaol. Come, sir, are you ready for death? Post. Over-roasted rather: ready long ago. Gaol. Hanging is the word, sir; if you be ready for that, you are well cooked.
(2) Forward. (3) Target, shield.
Post. I am merrier to die, than thou art to live. Gaol. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the tooth-ach: But a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think, he would change places with his officer: for, look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go. Post. Yes, indeed, do I, fellow.
Gaol. Your death has eyes in's head then; I have not seen him so pictured: you must either be directed by some that take upon them to know; or take upon yourself that, which I am sure you do not know; or jump the after-inquiry on your own peril: and how you shall speed in your journey's end, I think you'll never return to tell one.
Post. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to direct them the way I am going, but such as
Gaol. What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best use of eyes, to see the way of blindness! I am sure, hanging's the way of winking.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to the king.
Post. Thou bringest good news;-I am called to be made free.
Gaol. I'll be hanged then.
Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the dead.
[Exeunt Posthumus and Messenger. Gaol. Unless a man would marry a gallows, and beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone.2 Yet, on my conscience, there are verier knaves desire to live, for all he be a Roman: and there be some of them too, that die against their wills; so should I if I were one. I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good; O, there were desolation of gaolers, and gallowses! I speak against my present profit; but my wish hath a preferment in't." [Exeunt. SCENE V-Cymbeline's tent. Enter Cymbe line, Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, Pisanio, Lords, Officers, and Attendants.
Pis. He hath been search'd among the dead and | To have mistrusted her: yet, O my daughter! living, That it was folly in me, thou may'st say, But no trace of him. And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all! Enter Lucius, Iachimo, the Soothsayer, and other Roman Prisoners, guarded; Posthumus behind, and Imogen.
In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen :
Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life;
With such integrity, she did confess
Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods,
Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute; that
For you a mortal mineral; which, being took,
Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;
(1) Ready, dextrous. (2) Countenance.
you their captives, which ourself have granted; So, think of your estate.
Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war: the day
Cor. First, she confess'd she never lov'd you; only
So feat, so nurse-like: let his virtue join
Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm,
Boy, thou hast look'd thyself into my grace,
I have surely seen him:
To say, live, boy: ne'er thank thy master; live:
Bel. Peace, peace! see further; he eyes us not;
But we saw him dead.
One sand another | And, not dispraising whom he prais'd (therein
His mistress' picture; which by his tongue being
|| And then a mind put in't, either our brags
Nay, nay, to the purpose.
In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring
It is my mistress:
Since she is living, let the time run on,
[Cymbeline and Imogen come forward.
Give answer to this boy, and do it freely;
Imo. My boon is, that this gentleman may render
What's that to him?
Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent;
Torments me to conceal. By villany
I got this ring; 'twas Leonatus' jewel:
Whom thou didst banish; and (which more may But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd,
As it doth me,) a nobler sir ne'er liv'd
I had rather thou should'st live while nature will,
I stand on fire:
Come to the matter.
(Most like a noble lord in love, and one
(1) Sink into dejection.
Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say,
How! me? lach. I am glad to be constrain'd to utter that which
Ay, so thou dost,
That all the abhorred things o'the earth amend,
There lie thy part. [Striking her; she falls.
(2) Not only the temple of virtue, but virtue her
It poison'd me.
Cor. O gods! I left out one thing which the queen confess'd, Which must approve thee honest: If Pisanio Have, said she, given his mistress that confection Which I gave him for a cordial, she is serv'd As I would serve a rat.
What's this, Cornelius? Cor. The queen, sir, very oft impórtun'd me To temper1 poisons for her; still pretending The satisfaction of her knowledge, only In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs Of no esteem: I, dreading that her purpose Was of more danger, did compound for her A certain stuff, which, being ta'en, would cease The present power of life; but, in short time, All offices of nature should again Do their due functions.-Have you ta'en of it? Imo. Most like I did, for I was dead. Bel.
There was our error.
Gui. This is sure, Fidele. Imo. Why did you throw your wedded lady from you? Think, that you are upon a rock; and now Throw me again. [Embracing him. Hang there like fruit, my soul,
Post. Till the tree die! Cym How now, my flesh, my child? What, mak'st thou me a dullard in this act? Wilt thou not speak to me?
Your blessing, sir.
[Kneeling. Bel. Though you did love this youth, I blame ye
not; You had a motive for't. [To Gui. and Arv. Cym. My tears that fall, Prove holy water on thee! Imogen, Thy mother's dead.
I am sorry for't, my lord. Cym. O, she was naught; and 'long of her it was, That we meet here so strangely: But her son Is gone, we know not how, nor where.
My lord, Now fear is from me, I'll speak troth. Lòrd Cloten, Upon my lady's missing, came to me With his sword drawn; foam'd at the mouth, and
If I discover'd not which way she was gone,
I slew him there.
Let me end the story:
Marry, the gods forfend !2
(1) Mix, compound.
I would not thy good deeds should from my lips
Gui. A most uncivil one: The wrongs he did me
Cym. I am sorry for thee: By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and must Endure our law: Thou art dead.
That headless man
I thought had been my lord.
Stay, sir king:
[To the Guard.
They were not born for bondage.
Your danger is
Gui. And our good his.
Have at it then.By leave;-Thou hadst, great king, a subject, whe Was call'd Belarius. Cym.
What of him? he is
A banish'd traitor.
Nursing of my sons?
Bel. I am too blunt, and saucy: Here's my knee; Ere I arise, I will prefer my sons; Then, spare not the old father. Mighty sir, These two young gentlemen, that call me father, And think they are my sons, are none of mine; They are the issue of your loins, my liege, And blood of your begetting.
How! my issue?
Bel. So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan, Am that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd : Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punishment Itself, and all my treason; that I suffer'd, Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes (For such, and so they are,) these twenty years Have I train'd up: those arts they have, as I Could put into them; my breeding was, sir, as Your highness knows. Their nurse, Euriphile, Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children Upon my banishment: I mov'd her to't; Having receiv'd the punishment before,