He purpos'd to his wife's fole fon, a widow
That late he married) hath referr'd herself
Unto a poor, but worthy gentleman.
She's wedded;

Her husband banith'd; fhe imprison'd: all
Is outward forrow, though I think the King
Be touch'd at very heart.

2 Gent. None but the King? 7

1 Gent. He that hath loft her too: fo is the Queen That most defir'd the match. But not a courtier (Although they wear their faces to the bent

Of the King's looks) but hath a heart that is
Glad at the thing they foul at.

2 Gent. And why fo?

1 Gent. He that hath mifs'd the Princefs, is a thing Too bad for bad report: and he that hath her, (I mean that marry'd her, alack, good man! And therefore banish'd), is a creature fuch, As, to feek through the regions of the earth For one his like, there would be fomething failing In him that should compare. I do not think, So fair an outward, and fuch stuff within Endows a man but him.

2 Gent. You speak him far *.

1 Gent, I don't extend him, Sir; within himself Crufh him together, rather than unfold

His measure tully.

2 Gen. What's his name and birth?

I Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: his father

Was called Sicilius, who did join his honour
Against the Romans, with Caffibelan;
But had his titles by Tenantius, whom
He ferv'd with glory and admir'd success ;
So gain'd the fur-addition, Leonatus :

And had, befides, this gentleman in question,
Two other fons; who, in the wars o' th' time,

Dy'd with their words in hand : for which their father
(Then old, and fond of iffue) took fuch forrow,
That he quit being; and his gentle lady,
Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceas'd
As he was born. The King he takes the babe
largely in his praise.

To his protection, calls him Pofthumus,

Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber:
Puts to him all the learnings that his time

Could make him the receiver of: which he took
As we do air, faft as 'twas miniftred.

His fpring became a harvest: liv'd in court
(Which rare it is to do) most prais'd, most lov'd,
A fample to the young'ft; to th' more mature,
A glafs that featur'd them; and to the graver
A child that guided dotards. For his mistress,
(For whom he now is banifh'd),. her own price
Proclaims, how the esteemed him and his virtue.
By her election may be truly read,

What kind of man he is.

2 Gent. I honour him, ev'n out of your report, But tell me, is fhe fole child to the King?

1 Gent. His only child.

He had two fons, if this be worth your hearing
(Mark it); the eldest of them at three years old,
I' th' fwathing cloaths the other, from their nursery
Were ftoln; and to this hour, no guefs in knowledge
Which way they went,

2 Gent. How long is this

ago ?

1 Gent Some twenty years.

2 Gent. That a King's children fhould be fo convey'd So flackly guarded, and the fearch fo flow

That could not trace them!

1 Gent. How foe'er 'tis ftrange,

Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,

Yet is it true, Sir.

2 Gent, I do well believe you.

1 Gent. We must forbear.

man,

The Queen, and Princess.

SCENE

Here comes the Gentle

[Exeunt.

II.

Enter the Queen, Pofhumus, Imogen, and Attendants.

Queen. No, be affur'd, you fhall not find me, daughter' After the flander of most stepmothers,

Ill ey'd unto you: you're my pris'ner, but
Your goaler fhall deliver you the keys

That lock up your reftraint. For you, Pofthumus,
So foon as I can win th' offended King,

I will be known your advocate: marty, yet
The fire of rage is in him; and 'twere good
You lean'd unto his fentence, with what patience
Your wisdom may inform you.

Poft. Please your Highness,

I will from hence to-day.

Queen. You know the peril.

I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying
The pangs of barr'd affections; though the King
Hath charg'd you fhould not fpeak together.

[Exit. Imo. Diflembling courtefy! how fine this tyrant Can tickle where the wounds! My deareft husband, I fomething fear my father's wrath, but nothing (Always referv'd my holy duty) what

His rage can do on me. You must be gone,
And I fhall here abide the hourly fhot
Of angry eyes; not comforted to live,
But that there is this jewel in the world,
That I may fee again.

Poft. My Queen! my mistress!

O Lady, weep no more, left I give caufe]
To be fufpected of more tenderness

Than doth become a man. I will remain

The loyall'ft husband that did e'er plight troth;
My refidence in Rome, at one Philario's ;
Who to my father was a friend, to me
Known but by letter: thither write, my Queen;
And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you fend,
Though ink be made of gall.

Re-enter Queen.

Queen. Be brief, I pray you;

If the King come, I fhall incur I know not

How much of his difpleafure-Yet I'll move him [Afide. To walk this way; I never do him wrong,

But he does buy my injuries; to be friends,

Pays dear for my offences.

Poft. Should we be taking leave,

As long a term as yet we have to live,

The lothness to depart would grow. Adieu !
VOL. VII.

Р

[Exit,

Imo. Nay, ftay a little.

Were you but riding forth to air yourself,

Such parting were too petty.

Look here, love,

This diamond was my mother's; take it, heart,

But keep it till you woo another wife,

When Imogen is dead.

Poft. How, how, another!

You gentle gods, give me but this I have,
And fear up my embracements from a next

With bonds of death. Remain, remain thou here.

[Putting on the ring. While fenfe can keep thee on! and sweetest, fairest, As I my poor felf did exchange for you, To your fo infinite loss; so in our trifles I ftill win of you. For my fake wear this; It is a manacle of love, I'll place it

[Putting a bracelet on her arız.

Upon this faireft pris'ner.

Imo. O, the gods!

When shall we see again?

SCENE

III.

Enter Cymbeline and Lords.

Poft. Alack, the King!

Cymb. Thou bafeft thing, avoid; hence, from my fight: If, after this command, thou fraught the court With thy unworthiness, thou dy't. Away!

Thou'rt poison to my blood.

Poft. The gods protect you,

And blefs the good remainders of the court!

I'm gone.

Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death More sharp than this is.

Cym. O difloyal thing,

That should'st repair my youth, thou heap'ft

A yare age on me.

Imo. I beseech you, Sir,

Harm not yourself with your vexation;

I'm fenfelefs of your wrath; a touch more rare
Subdues all pangs, all fears.

Gym. Poft grace? obedience?

[Exit.

Imo. Paft hope, and in defpair; that way paft grace.

⚫i, e, more strong, forcible; alluding to the stroke of lightning.

Cym. Thou might'ft have had the fole fon of my.

Queen.

Imo O, blefs'd, that I might not ! I chofe an eagle. And did avoid a puttock.

Gym. Thou took ft a beggar; would't have made A feat for baseness.

Imo. No, I rather added

A luftre to it.

Gym. O thou vile one!

Imo. Sir,

It is

[my throne

your fault that I have lov'd Pofthumus : You bred him as my play-fellow; and he is A man worthy any woman; over-buys me Almoft the fum he pays.

Cym. What!-art thou mad?

Imo. Almoft, Sir; Heav'n restore me! 'would I were A neat herd's daughter, and my Leonatus

Our neighbour-fhepherd's fon!

Enter Queen.

Gym. Thou foolish thing!

They were again together; you have done

[To the Queen,

Not after our command. Away with her,
And pen her up.

Queen. Befeech you patience; peace,

Dear Lady daughter, peace. Sweat Sovereign,

Leave us t' ourselves, and make yourfelf fome comfort Out of your best advice.

Cym. Nay, let her languish

A drop of blood a day; and, being aged,

Die of this folly.

Enter Pifanio,

Queen. Fie, you must give way.

[Exit.

Here is your fervant. How now, Sir? what news?

Pif. My Lord your fon drew on my master.-
Queen. Hah!

No harm, 1 truft, is done?

Pif. There might have been,

But that my mafter rather play'd than fought,.
And had no help of anger: they were parted