Be not with mortal accidents opprest; No care of yours it is; you know, 'tis ours. Whom best I love, I cross; to make my gift, The more delay'd, delighted. Be content; Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift; His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent. 260 And happier much by his affliction made. [Ascends. Sici. He came in thunder; his celestial breath 270 Was sulphurous to smell; the holy eagle Stoop'd, as to foot us: his ascension is More sweet than our blest fields: his royal bird All. Thanks, Jupiter! Sici. The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd His radiant roof:-Away! and, to be blest Let us with care perform his great behest. [Vanish. Post. [Waking.] Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire, and begot A father to me: and thou hast created A mother, and two brothers: But (O scorn!) Gone! they went hence so soon as they were born. Lij 280 And And so I am awake.- Poor wretches, that depend That have this golden chance, and know not why. one! Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment [ Reads. ] 290 When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, withcut seeking find, and be embrac'd by a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be lopt 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. 'Tis still a dream; or else such stuff as madmen As sense cannot untie. Be what it is, 301 Re-enter Re-enter Gaolers. Gaol. Come, sir, are you ready for death? Gaol. Hanging is the word, sir; if you be ready for that, you are well cook'd. Post. So, if I prove a good repast to the spectators, the dish pays the shot. 313 Gaol. A heavy reckoning for you, sir: But the comfort is, you shall be call'd to no more payments, fear no more tavern bills; which are often the sadness of parting, as the procuring of mirth: you come in faint for want of meat, depart reeling with too much drink sorry that you have paid too much, and sorry that you are paid too much; purse and brain both empty the brain the heavier, for being too light; the purse too light, being drawn of heaviness: O! of this contradiction you shall now be quit.-O, the charity of a penny cord! it sums up thousands in a trice : : you have no true debitor and creditor but it; of what's past, is, and to come, the discharge :Your neck, sir, is pen, book, and counters; so the acquittance follows. 828 Post. I am merrier to die, than thou art to live. Gaol. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the tooth-ach: But a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think, he would change places with his officer: for, look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go, Post. Yes, indeed, do I, fellow, Gaol. Gaol. Your death has eyes in's head then; I have not seen him so pictur'd: you must either be directed by some that take upon them to know; or take upon yourself that, which I am sure you do not know; or jump the after-inquiry on your own peril: and how you shall speed in your journey's end, I think, you'll never return to tell one. 342 Post. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes, to direct them the way I am going, but such as wink, and will not use them. Gaol. What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best use of eyes, to see the way of blindness! I am sure, hanging's the way of winking. Enter a Messenger. Mess. Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to the king. 350 Post. Thou bring'st good news; I am call'd to be made free. Gaol. I'll be hang'd then. Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the dead. [Exeunt POST. and Messenger. Gaol. Unless a man would marry a gallows, and beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are verier knaves desire to live, for all he be a Roman: and there be some of them too, that die against their wills; so should I, if I were one. I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good; O, there were desolation of gaolers, and gallowses! I speak against my present profit: but my wish hath a preferment in't. SCENE V. [Exit. CYMBELINE's Tent. Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, and Lords. Cym. Stand by my side, you, whom the gods have made Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart, Bel. I never saw Such noble fury in so poor a thing Such precious deeds in one that promis'd nought But beggary and poor looks. Cym. No tidings of him? 379 Pis. He hath been search'd among the dead and living, But no trace of him. Cym. To my grief, I am The heir of his reward; which I will add To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain, 380 [TO BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS. By whom, I grant, she lives: 'Tis now the time To ask of whence you are :-report it.. Bel. |