(Oh, cunning! how I got it), nay, fome marks
Of fecret on her perfon; that he could not
But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd,
I having ta'en the forfeit; whereupon,
Methinks I fee him now

Poft. Ay, fo thou do'ft,

[Coming forward.

Italian fiend! ah me, most credulous fool,
Egregious murtherer, thief, any thing
That's due to all the villains paît, in being,

To come--oh, give me cord, or knife, or poifon,
Some upright jufticer! Thou, King, send out
For torturers ingenious; it is I

That all th' abhorred things o' th' earth amend,
By being worse then they. I am Posthumus
That kill'd thy daughter;-villain-like, I tye;
That caus’d a lesser villain than myfelf,
A facrilegious thief, to do't. The temple
Of virtue was fhe, yea, and fhe herself
Spit, and throw ftones, caft mire upon me, set
The dogs o' th' street to bait me: every villain
Be call'd Pofthumus Leonatus, and

Be villany lefs than 'twas!—Oh Imogen!
My Queen, my life, my wife! oh Imogen,
Imogen, Imogen!

Imo. Peace, my Lord, hear, hear

Poft. Shall's have a play of this!

Thou fcornful page, there lie thy part.

Pif. Oh, Gentlemen, help,

[Striking her, he falls.

Mine, and your mistress- Oh, my Lord Pofthumus! You ne'er kill'd Imogen till now--—————— -help, help,

Mine honour'd Lady

Cym. Does the world do round?

Poft. How come thefe ftaggers on me?

Pif. Wake, my miftrefs!

Cym. If this be fo, the gods do mean to strike me

To death with mortal joy.

Pif. How fares my mistress?

Imo. O, get thee from my fight:

Thou gav'ft me poison: dang'rous fellow, hence!

Breathe not where princes are,

Cym. The tune of Imogen !

Pif. Lady, the gods throw ftones of fulphur on me, If what I gave you was not thought by me

A precious thing: I had it from the Queen.
Cym. New matter ftill?

Imo. It poifon'd me.

Gor. Oh gods!

I left out one thing which the Queen, confefs'd,
Which muft approve thee honeft. If Pifanio.
Have, faid the, giv'n his mistress that confection,
Which I gave him for cordial, fhe is ferv'd
As I would serve a rat.

Gym. What's this, Cornelius ?

Cor. The Queen, Sir, very oft importun'd me.
To temper poifons for her; ftill pretending
The fatisfaction 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 seize
The prefent power of life; but, in short time,
All offices of nature should again

Do their due functions. Have you ta'en of it ?
Imo. Moft like I did, for I was dead.

Bel. My boys, there was our error.

Guid. This is, fure, Fidele.

1

Imo. Why did you throw your wedded lady from you?

[To Pofthumus,

Think, that you are upon a mock*, and now

Throw me again. [Throwing her arms about his neck. Poft. Hang there like fruit, my foul,

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?

Imo. Your bleffing, Sir.

[Kneeling.

[To Guid. Arvir..

Bel. Tho' you did love this youth, I blame you not

You had a motive for't.

Cym. My tears that fall,

Prove holy water on thee! Imogen,

Thy mother's dead.

Imo. I'm forry for't, my Lord.

i. a farce, a stage-play.

Gym. Oh, fhe was naught; and long of her it was, That we meet here fo ftrangely; but her fon

Is gone, we know not how, nor where.

Pif My Lord,

Now fear is from me, I'll fpeak truth. Lord Cloten,
Upon my Lady's miffing, came to me

With his fword drawn, foam'd at the mouth, and swore,
If I discover'd not which way the went,
It was my inftant death. By accident
I had a feigned letter of my master's
Then in my pocket; which directed her
To feek him on the mountains near to Milford
Where, in a frenzy, in my master's garments,
Which he inforc'd from me, away he posts
With unchafte purpose, and with oath to violate
My Lady's honour: what became of him,
1 further know not.

Guid Let me end the story;

I flew him there.

Cym. Marry, the gods forefend !

I would not thy good deeds fhould from my lips
Pluck a hard fentence: pr'ythee, valiant youth,
Deny't again.

Guid. I've spoke it, and I did it.

Cym. He was a prince.

Guid. A moft incivil one. The wrongs he did me, Were nothing prince-like; for he did provoke me With language that would make me fpurn the fea, Could it fo roar to me. I cut off's head;

And am right glad he is not standing here

To tell this tale of mine.

Cym. I'm forry for thee;

By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and muft
Endure our law: thou'rt dead.

Imo. That headless man

I thought had been my Lord.

Gym. Bind the offender,

And take him from our prefence,

Bel. Stay, Sir King,

This man is better than the man he flew,
As well defcended as thyfelf; and hath
More of thee merited, than a band of Clotens

i

Had ever fear for.

-Let his arms alone;

[To the Guard..

They were not born for bondage.

Gym. Why, old foldier,

Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for,

By hafting of our wrath? how of defcent

As good as we ?

Arv. In that he spake too far.
Cym. And thou fhalt die for't.

Bel. We will die all three ;

But I will prove, that two on's are as good

As I've giv'n out of him.

My fons, I must

For my own part, unfold a dangerous fpeech,

Though happly well for you.

Arv. Your danger's ours.

Guid. And our good, his.

Bel. Have at it then, by leave.

Friuse

Thou hadft, great King, a fubject who was call'd Bela-

Cym. What of him? a banish'd traitor.

Bel. He it is that hath

Affum'd this age; indeed a banish'd man,

I know not how a traitor.

Cym. Take him hence,

The whole world fhall not fave him.

Bel. Not too hot,

First, pay me for the nurfing of thy fons;

And let it be confifcate all, fo foon

As I've receiv'd it.

Cym. Nurfing of my fons?"

Bel I am too blunt, and faucy; here's my knee.. Ere I arife, I will prefer my fons,

Then fpare not the old father

Mighty Sir,

Thefe two young gentlemen, that call me father,

And think they are my fons, are none of mine;
They are the iffue of your loins, my Liege,

And blood of your begetting.

Cym How? my iffue?

Bel. So fure, as you your father's. I, old Morgan, Am that Belarius whom you fometime banifh'd.

Your pleafure was my near offence, my punishment

Itfelf, and all my treaion.

Was all the harm I did.

That I fufler'd,
Thefe gentle princess

(For fuch and fo they are) thefe twenty years
Have I train'd up; fuch arts they have, as I
Could put into them. Sir, my breeding was,
As your Grace knows. Their nurfe 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 reafon. Their dear lofs,

The more of you 'twas felt, the more it fhap'd
Unto my end of tealing them. But, Sir,
Here are your fons again; and I must lose
Two of the fweet'ft companions in the world.
The benediction of these covering heav'ns

Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy
To in-lay heav'n with stars.

Cym. Thou weep'ft, and fpeak' ft.

The fervice that you three have done, is more Unlike than this thou tell'ft. I lost my childrenIf these be they, I know not how to wish

A pair of worthier sons.

Bel. Be pleas'd a while

This Gentleman, whom I call Paladour,
•Moft worthy Prince, as your's, is true Guiderius.
This Gentleman, my Gadwall, Arviragus,
Your younger princely fon; he, sir, was lapt
In a most curious mantle, wrought by th' hand
Of his Queen-mother, which, for more probation,
I can with ease produce.

Cym. Guiderius had

Upon his a neck a mole, a fanguine ftar;

It was a mark of wonder.

Bel. This is he;

Who hath upon him ftill that nat❜ral stamp,
It was wife nature's end, in the donation,
To be his evidence now.

Cym. Oh, what am I ?

A mother to the birth of three! ne'er mother Rejoic'd deliverance more; blefs'd may you be, That, after this ftrange ftarting from your orbs,., You may reign in them now! Oh Imogen, Thou'lt loft by this a kingdom.