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He purpos'd to his wife's fole son, a widow
That late he married) hath referr'd herself
Unto a poor, but worthy gentleman.
She's wedded;
Her husband banilh'd ; she imprison'd: all
Is outward sorrow, though I think the King
Be touch'd at very

heart.
2 Gent. None but the King ?

i Gent. He that hath lost her 100: fo is the Queen That most desir'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 scoul at.

2 Gent. And why so?

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

2 Gent. You speak him far *.

i Gent. I don't extend him, sir; within himself Crush him together, rather than unfold His measure fully.

2 Gen. What's his name and birth ?

I Gent, I cannot delve him to the root : his father Was called Sıcilius, who did join his honour Against the Romans, with Calfibelan ; But had his titles by Tenantius, whom He serv'd with glory and admir'd success ; So gaind the sur-addition, Leonatus : And had, belides, this gentleman in question, Two other sons; who, in the wars o'th' time, Dy'd with their lwords in hand : for which their father (Then old, and fond of illue) took such 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 * įė largely in his praise.

1

To his protection, calls him Posthumus,
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, fast 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 sample to the young' t; to th' more mature,
A glass that featur'd them; and to the graver
A child that guided dotards. For his mistress,
(For whom he now is banislı'd),. her own price
Proclaims, how she 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 slie fole child to the King ?

i Gent. His only child.
He had two sons, if this bę worth

your

hearing
(Mark it); the eldest of thein at three years old,
i'th' swathing cloaths the other, from their nursery
Were stoln ; and to this hour, no guess in knowledge
Which way they went,

2 Gent. How long is this ago ?
į Gent Some twenty years,

2 Gent. That a King's children should be so convey'd
So lackly guarded, apd the search fo flow
That could not trace them !

I Gent. Howsoe'er 'tis strange,
Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,
Yet is it true, Sir.

2 Gent, I do well believe you.
I Gent. We must forbear. Here comes the Gentle.

man,
The Queen, and Princess.

[Exeunt.

S CE N E II.
Enter the Queen, Pofthumus, Imogen, and Attendants.

Queen. No, be aftur’d, you shall not find me, daughter'
After the fander of most stepmothers,
Ill ey'd unto you : you're my pris’ner, but
Your goaler shall deliver you the keys

inform you.

can

That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
So soon as I can win th' offended King,
I will be known your advocate : mariy, 'yet
The fire of rage is in him ; and 'twere good
You lean'd unto his fentence, with what patience
Your wisdom

may
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 should not speak together. [Exit.

Imo. Dilsembling courtesy ! how fine this tyrant
Can tickle where the wounds ! My dearest husband,
I something fear my father's wrath, but nothing
(Always relery'd my holy duty) what
His
rage
do oe me.

You must be gone,
And I shall here abide the hourly shoc
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 cause
To be fuspected of more tenderness
Than doth become a ran. I will remain
The loyall'At husband that did e'er plight troth;
My residence 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 send,
Though ink be made of gall.

Re-enter Queen.
Queen. Be brief, I pray you ;
If the King come, I shall incur I know not
How much of his displeafure-Yet I'll move him Afde.
To walk this way ; I never do him wrong,
But he does buy my injuries ; to be friends,
Pays dear for my offences.

[Exit,
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

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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 wite,
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 sense can keep thee on! and sweetest, fairelt, As I my poor self did exchange for you, To your so infinite loss ; so in our trifies I fill 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 fairest pris'ner.

Imo. O, the gods! When shall we see again ?.

SCENE III. Enter Cymbeline and Lords. Poft. Alack, the King !

Cymb. Thou bafest thing, avoid ; hence, from my fight:
If, after this command, thou fraught the court
With thy unworthiness, thou dy'lt. Away!
Thou’rt poison to my blood.

Poft. The gods protect you,
And bless the good remainders of the court !
I'm gone.

[Exit. Imo. There cannot be a piach in death More sharp than this is.

Cym. O disloyal thing,
That should'st repair my youth, thou heap'st
A yare age on me.

Imo. I beseech you, Sir,
Harm not yourself with your vexation;
I'm senseless of your wrath ; a touch more rare
Subdues all pangs, all fears.

Cym. Post grace? obedience ?
Imo, Paft hope, and in despair; that way past grace.

6 more strong, forcible; alluding to the stroke of lightning

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

Queen. Imo o, bless'd, that I might not ! I chose an eagle. And did avoid a puttock.

Cyme. Thou took'st a beggar; 'would't have made A seat for baseness.

[my throne Imo. No, I rather added A luftre to it.

Gym. O thou vile one !

Imo. Sir, It is your

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

Gym. What! -art thou mad?

Imo. Almost, Sir; Heav'n restore me ! 'would I were
A deat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus
Our neighbour-lhepherd's son !

Enter Queen.
Cym. 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. Beseech you patience ; peace,
Dear Lady daughter, peace. Sweat Sovereign,
Leave us e ourselves, and make yourself some comfort
Out of your best advice.

Cym. Nay, let her languith
A drop of blood a day; and, being aged,
Die of this folly.

[Exito
Enter Pifanio
Queen. Fie, you must give way..
Here is

your
servant. How now,

sir ? what news Pif. My Lord your son drew on my master.

Queen. Hah!
No barm, I trust, is done?

Pif. There might have been,
But that my master rather play'd than foughts.
And had no help of anger : they were parted.

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