:

Augustus lives to think on 't: and so much
For my peculiar care. This one thing only
I will entreat my boy, a Briton born,
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

Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm, Though he have serv'd a Roman: save him, sir, And spare no blood beside.

Am something nearer.

Cym. Wherefore ey'st him so? Imo. I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please To give me hearing.

Cym. Ay, with all my heart, And lend my best attention. What's thy name? Imo. Fidele, sir.

Cym. Thou art my good youth, my page; I'll be thy master: Walk with me; speak freely. [CYMBELINE and IMOGEN converse apart. Bel. Is not this boy reviv'd from death? Arv. One sand another Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad Who died, and was Fidele :-What think you?

Since she is living, let the time run on
To good, or bad.

[CYMBELINE and IMOGEN come forward. Cym. Come, stand thou by our side; Make thy demand aloud.-Sir, [to IACH.] step you forth;

Give answer to this boy, and do it freely;
Or, by our greatness, and the grace of it,
Which is our honour, bitter torture shall
Winnow the truth from falsehood.-On, speak to
him.

Imo. My boon is, that this gentleman may

Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say How came it yours?

Iach. Thou 'lt torture me to leave unspoken that

Which, to be spoke, would torture thee.
Cym.

How! me?

Iach. I am glad to be constrain'd to utter that Which torments me to conceal. By villainy

I got this ring; 't was Leonatus' jewei: Whom thou didst banish; and (which more, may grieve thee

As it doth me,) a nobler sir ne'er liv'd
'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more,
my lord ?

Cym. All that belongs to this.
Iach.

That paragon, thy daughter,For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits

Quail to remember,-Give me leave; I faint. Cym. My daughter! what of her? Renew thy

strength:

I had rather thou should'st live while nature will, Than die ere I hear more: strive, man, and speak.

Iach. Upon a time, (unhappy was the clock That struck the hour!) it was in Rome, (accurs'd The mansion where !)'t was at a feast, (O 'would Our viands had been poison'd! or, at least, Those which I heav'd to head!) the good Posthumus,

(What should I say? he was too good, to be

Unless thou would'st grieve quickly.—This Posthumus

(Most like a noble lord in love, and one
That had a royal lover) took this hint;
And, not dispraising whom we prais'd, (therein
He was as calm as virtue,) he began

His mistress' picture; which by his tongue being made,

And then a mind put in 't, either our brags
Were crack'd of kitchen trulls, or his description
Prov'd us unspeaking sots.

Cym.
Nay, nay, to the purpose.
Iach. Your daughter's chastity-there it
begins.

He spake of her, as Dian had hot dreams,
And she alone were cold: Whereat, I, wretch!
Made scruple of his praise; and wager'd with
him

Pieces of gold, 'gainst this which then he wore
Upon his honour'd finger, to attain
In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring
By hers and mine adultery: he, true knight,
No lesser of her honour confident

Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring;
And would so, had it been a carbuncle
Of Phoebus' wheel; and might so safely, had it
Been all the worth of his car. Away to Britain
Post I in this design: Well may you, sir,
Remember me at court, where I was taught
Of your chaste daughter the wide difference
Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus
quench'd

Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
'Gan in your duller Britain operate
Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent;
And, to be brief, my practice so prevail'd
That I return'd with simular proof enough
To make the noble Leonatus mad,
By wounding his belief in her renown
With tokens thus, and thus; averring notes
Of chainber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet,
(0, cunning, how I got it!) nay, some marks

Of secret on her person, that he could not But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd, I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon,Methinks, I see him now,

Post.

Ay, so thou dost,
[Coming forward.
Italian fiend!-Ah me, most credulous fool,
Egregious murderer, thief, any thing
That's due to all the villains past, in being,
To come!-O, give me cord, or knife, or poison,
Some upright justicer! Thou, king, send out
For torturers ingenious: it is I

That all the abhorred things o' the earth amend,
By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,
That kill'd thy daughter:-villain-like, I lie;
That caus'd a lesser villain than myself,
A sacrilegious thief, to do 't :-the temple
Of virtue was she; yea, and she herself.
Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
The dogs o' the street to bay me: every villain
Be call'd Posthumus Leonatus; and
Be villainy less than 't was !-O Imogen!
My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen,
Imogen, Imogen!

Imo. Post.

Peace, my lord; hear, hear!— Shall's have a play of this? Thou scornful page,

There lie thy part.

Pis.

[Striking her she falls. O, gentlemen, help

Mine, and your mistress :-0, my lord Posthu

Have, said she, given his mistress that confection Which I gave him for cordial, she is serv'd

As I would serve a rat.

Cym.

What's this, Cornelius?

Cor. The queen, sir, very oft importun'd me
To temper 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.

My boys,

This is sure, Fidele.

I am sorry for thee. By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and

must

Endure our law: Thou art dead.

Imo.

I thought had been my lord.

Cym.

That headless mau

Bind the offender,

And take him from our presence.

Bel.

Stay, sir king:

This man is better than the man he slew,
As well descended as thyself; and hath
More of thee merited, than a band of Clotens
Had ever scar for.-Let his arms alone;

They were not born for bondage.

[To the guard.

Cym.
Why, old soldier,
Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for,
By tasting of our wrath? How of descent
As good as we?

Aro.
In that he spake too far.
Cym. And thou shalt die for 't.
Bel.

We will die all three: But I will prove, that two of us are as good As I have given out him.-My sons, I must, For mine own part, unfold a dangerous speech, Though, haply, well for you.

By leave; Thou hadst, great king, a subject

who

Was call'd Belarius.

Cym.

What of him? he is

He it is that hath indeed, a banish'd man;

I know not how a traitor.

Assum'd this age-put on these appearances of age.

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,

For that which I did then: Beaten for loyalty,
Excited me to treason: Their dear loss,
The more of you 't was felt, the more it shap'd
Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir,
Here are your sons again; and I must lose
Two of the sweet'st companions in the world:
The benediction of these covering heavens
Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy
To inlay heaven with stars.

Сукл.
Thou weep'st, and speak'st.
The service, that you three have done, is more
Unlike than this thou tell'st: I lost my children;
If these be they, I know not how to wish
A pair of worthier sons.

Bel. Be pleas'd awhile.— This gentleman, whom I call Polydore, Most worthy prince, as yours, is true Guiderius: This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arviragus, Your younger princely son; he, sir, was lapp'd In a most curious mantle, wrought by the hand Of his queen mother, which, for more probation, I can with ease produce.

Guiderius had

Сум. Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star;

This is he;

Who hath upon him still that natural stamp :
It was wise Nature's end in the donation,
To be his evidence now.

Cym.

O, what, am I

A mother to the birth of three? Ne'er mother
Rejoic'd deliverance more:--Bless'd pray you be,
That, after this strange starting from your orbs,
You may reign in them now!-O Imogen,
Thou hast lost by this a kingdom.

Imo.

No, my lord; I have got two worlds by 't.-O my gentle bro

thers,

Have we thus met? O never say hereafter
But I am truest speaker: you call'd me brother,
When I was but your sister; I you brothers,
When you were so indeed.
Сут.

Did you e'er meet? Arv. Ay, my good lord.

And at first meeting lov'd;

Gui. Continued so, until we thought he died. Cor. By the queen's dram she swallow'd. Cym. O rare instinct! When shall I hear all through? This fierce abridgment

Hath to it circumstantial branches, which Distinction should be rich in.-Where, how liv'd you,

And when came you to serve our Roman captive? How parted with your brothers? how first met them ?

Why fled you from the court? and whither?

These,

And your three motives to the battle, with

I know not how much more, should be de

manded;

And all the other by-dependencies,

From chance to chance; but nor the time, nor place,

Will serve our long intergatories. See,
Posthumus anchors upon Imogen;

And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brothers, me, her master, hitting
Each object with a joy; the counterchange
Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground,
And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.
Thou art my brother: So we'll hold thee ever.
[TO BELARIUS.

Imo. You are my father too; and did relieve me, To see this gracious season.

Cym.
All o'erjoy'd,
Save these in bonds; let them be joyful too,
For they shall taste our comfort.

The soldier that did company these three
In poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for
The purpose I then follow'd:-That I was he,
Speak, Iachimo: I had you down, and might
Have made finish.
you

Iach.
I am down again: [Kneeling.
But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee,
As then your force did. Take that life, 'beseech
you,

Which I so often owe: but, your ring first;
And here the bracelet of the truest princess,
That ever swore her faith.

Post.

Kneel not to me; The power that I have on you is to spare you; The malice towards you to forgive you: Live, And deal with others better.

Cym.

Nobly doom'd; We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law; Pardon's the word to all.

Arv.

You holp us, sir, did mean indeed to be our brother; Joy'd are we that you are.

As you

Post. Your servant, princes.-Good my lord of Rome,

Call forth your soothsayer: As I slept, methought,

Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back,
Appear'd to me, with other spritely shows
Of mine own kindred: when I wak'd, I found
This label on my bosom; whose containing
Is so from sense in hardness, that I can
Make no collection of it; let him show
His skill in the construction.
Luc.

Sooth. Here, my good lord.
Luc.

Philarmonus!

Read, and declare the meaning.

Sooth. [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.

Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp;

Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline, Personates thee: and thy lopp'd branches point Thy two sons forth; who, by Belarius stolen, For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd, To the majestic cedar join'd; whose issue Promises Britain peace and plenty.

Cym. Well, My peace we will begin :-And, Caius Lucius, Although the victor, we submit to Cæsar, And to the Roman empire; promising To pay our wonted tribute, from the which We were dissuaded by our wicked queen : Whom heavens, in justice, (both on her, and hers,) Have laid most heavy hand."

Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do tune
The harmony of this peace. The vision
Which I made known to Lucius, ere the stroke
Of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this instant
Is full accomplish'd: For the Roman eagle,
From south to west on wing soaring aloft,
Lessen'd herself, and in the beams o' the sun
So vanish'd: which foreshow'd our princely
eagle,

The imperial Cæsar, should again unite
His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
Which shines here in the west.

Cym.
Laud we the gods;
And let our crooked smokes climb to their

nostrils

From our bless'd altars! Publish we this peace
To all our subjects. Set we forward: Let
A Roman and a British ensign wave
Friendly together: so through Lud's town
march;

And in the temple of great Jupiter
Our peace we'll ratify; seal it with feasts.
Set on there ;-Never was a war did cease,
Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with such a
[Exeunt.

peace.

The particle on is understood. The same form of ex pression occurs in Othello

"What conjurations and what mighty magic

I won his daughter [with].