Was as a scorpion to her sight; whose life,
But that her fight prevented it, she had
Ta'en off by poison.

Cym. O most delicate fiend!
Who is't can read a woman ? - Is there more ?

Cor. More, sir, and worse. She did confess, she had
For you a mortal mineral ; which, being took,
Should by the minute feed on life, and, ling’ring,
By inches waste you : In which time she purpos’d,
By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to
O’ercome you with her shew : yes, and in time,
(When she had fitted you with her craft) to work
Her son into the adoption of the crown.
But failing of her end by his strange absence,
Grew shameless-desperates open’d, in despight
Of heaven and men, her purposes; repented
The ills she hatch'd were not effected ; so,
Despairing, dy'd.

Cym. Heard you all this, her women ?
Lady. We did, so please your highness.

Cym. Mine eyes
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 vicious,
To have mistrusted her : yet, O my daughter !
That it was folly in me, thou may'st say,
And

prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all ! Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and otber Roman prisoners ; Poft.

bumus bebind, and Imogen. Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute ; that The Britons have raz’d out, though with the loss Of many a bold one ; whose kinsmen have made fuit, That their good souls may be appeas’d with slaughter

Of

with us,

Of you their captives, which ourself have granted :
So, think of your estate.

Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war: the day
Was yours by accident; had it

gone We should not, when the blood was cold, have threatend Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives May be call'd ransom, let it come: sufficeth, A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer : 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.

Cym. I have surely seen him ;
* His favour iş familiar to me:-Boy,
Thou hast look'd thyself into my grace, and art
Mine own. I know not why, wherefore, I say,
Live, boy: ne'er thank thy master ; live :
And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,
Fitting my bounty, and thy state, I'll give it ;
Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner,
The noblest ta'en.

Imo. I humbly thank your highness.

Luc. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad; And

yet, I know, thou wilt. feat,]-adroit, clever.

* His favour is familiar to me :) ) am well acquainted with his countenance.

Imo. No, no ; alack,
There's other work in hand; I see a thing
Bitter to me as death : your life, good master,
Muit shuffle for itself.

Luc. The boy disdains me,
He leaves me, scorns me: Briefly die their joys,
That place them on the truth of girls and boys. -
Why stands he so perplex'd ?

Cym. What wouldst thou, boy?
I love thee more and more; think more and more
What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look' t on? speak,
Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? thy friend?

Imo. He is a Roman; no more kin to me, Than I to your highnels; who, being born your vassal, 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 walk aside. Bel. Is not this boy reviv'd from death?

srv. One sand another Not more resembles: That sweet rosy lad, Who dy'd, and was Fidele-What think you?

Guid. The same dead thing alive.

Bel. Peace, peace ! see further; he eyes us not; forbear;
Creatures may be alike : were's he, I am sure
He would have spoke to us.

Guid. But we saw him dead.
Bel. Be filenț; ler's fee further,

Pil
. It is my mistress:

[Afide. Since she is living, let the time run on, To good, or bad. (Cymb. and Imogen come forward.

Cym. Come, stand thou by our side ;
Make thy demand aloud.Sir, step you forth;

[To Tachimo.
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 falíhood.On, speak to him.

Imo. My boon is, that this gentleman may render
Of whom he had this ring.
Poft. What's that to him?

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

Iech. Thou’lt torture me to leave unspoken that Which, to be spoke, would torture thee.

Cym. How! me?

lach. I am glad to be constrain'd to utter that which Torments me to conceal. By villainy I

got this ring; 'twas Leonatus' jewel, 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.

lacb, 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:

Quail]-Sink into dejection, droop.
here's no quailing now.”
HENRY IV. Par: I. A IV. S.1. Hot,

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

lach. Upon a time, (unhappy was the clock
That struck the hour!) it was in Rome, (accurs'd
The mansion where !) 'cwas at a feast, (0, '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
Where ill men were ; and was the best of all
Amongst the rar'st of good ones) fitting sadly,
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
For beauty that made barren the swellid boast
Of him that best could speak : ” for feature, laming
The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerva,
Poftures beyond brief nature ; for condition,
A shop of all the qualities that man
Loves woman for ; belides, that hook of wiving,
Fairness, which strikes the eye :-

Cym. I stand on fire : Come to the matter.

lacb. All too soon I shall, Unless thou wouldīt grieve quickly. This Posthumus, (Most like a noble lord in love, and one That had a royal lover) took his 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.

m for feature, laming, &c.]—for symmetry or proportion of parts, disparaging the statues of Venus and crcct Minerva, whose graceful attitudes were carried to such a pitch of perfection, as hasty, unelabo. rate nature seldom reaches; for mental endowments, a compound of all amiable qualities, besides the attractive bait of a fair complexion.

Cym.