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 mafter. Walk with me, fpeak freely. i

[Cym. and Imo. walk afide.

Bel. Is not this boy reviv'd from death?
Aro. One fand another

Not more refembles. That fweet rofy lad,
Who dy'd and was Fidele. What think you?
Guid. The fame dead thing alive..

Bel. Peace, peace, fee more; he eyes ús not; forbear;

Creatures may be alike: were 't he, I'm fure.
He would have spoke t' us.

Guid. But we faw him dead.

Bel. Be filent: let's fee further.
Pif. 'Tis my mittress.

* སྙ་༎

· [Afide.

Since he is living, let the time run on,
To good or bad. [Cym. and Imo. come forward.
Cyn. Come, ftand thou by our fide, for
Make thy demand aloud.Sir, ftep you forth.
[To Iachimo.

'

Gite answer to this boy, and do it freely;
Or by our greatnefs and the grace of it,
Which is our honour, bitter torture: fhall
Winnow the truth from falfehood. One speak
. to him.

Imo. My boon is, that this gentleman may render Of whom he had this ring.

Poft. What's that to him?

Gym. That diamond upon your finger, fay, i How came it yours?

Jach. Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken that, Which to be spoke would torture thee.

Cym. How? me?

fach. I'm glad to be constrain'd to utter what 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. Will you hear more, my Lord?

Cym. All that belongs to this.
Fach. That paragon, thy daughter,

For whom my heart drops blood, and my falle fpirits
Quail to remember-give me leave, I faint.-

Cyn. My daughter, what of her? renew thy
ftrength;

I'd rather thou fhouldft live, while nature will,
Than die ere I hear more. Strive, man, and speak.
Iach. Upon a time, unhappy was the clock
That struck the hour; it was in Rome, accurs'd
The manfion where; 'twas at a feaft, oh, 'would
Our viands had been poifon'd, or at least

Those which I heav'd to head; the good Pofthumus

What fliould I fay? he was too good to be
Where ill men were; and was the best of all
Amongst the rarit of good ones-fitting fadly,
Hearing us praife our loves of Italy

For beauty, that made barren the fwell'd boast-
Of him that beft could fpeak; for feature*, laming
The farine of Venus, or ftraight-pight Minerva,
Poftures beyond brief nature, for condition,
A fhop of all the qualities that man

Loves woman for; befides that hook of wiving,
Fairnefs, which strikes the eye-

Cym. I ftand on fire.

Come to the matter.

Iach. All too foon I fhall,

Unless thou would!) grieve quickly.-This Pofthu

Most like a noble lord in love, and one!

That had a royal lover, took his hint;

[mus,

And, not difpraifing whom we prais'd, therein

He was as calm as virtue, he began

His mistress' picture; which by his tongue being And then a mind put in't, either our brags [made,

"Feature, for proportion of parts.

Warburton,

་

Were crack'd of kitchen-trullsy or his defeription Prov'd us unfpeaking fots.

Cym. Nay, nay, to th' purpose.

Lach. Your daughter's chaftity-there it begins
Ee fpake of her, as Dian bad hot dreams,
And the alone were cold; whereat 1, wretch !
Made fcruple of his prane: and wag'd with him
Pieces of gold, 'gainst this which then he wore
Upon his honour'd finger, to attain

In fuit the place of 's bed, and win this ring
By hers and mine adultery. He, true knight,
No leffer of her honour confident

Than I did truly find her, ftakes this ring;
And would fo, had it been a carbuncle

Of Phoebus' wheel; and might fo fafely, had it
Been all the worth of 's car. Away to Britain
Poft I in this defign. Well may you, Sir;
Remember me at court, where I was taught,
By your chafte daughter, the wide difference
'Twixt amorous, and villanous. Being thus quench'd
Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
'Gan in your duller Britain operate

Moft vilely, for my vantage excellent ;
And, to be brief, my practice fo prevail'd,
That I return'd with fimilar proof enough-
To make the noble Leonatus mad,
By wounding his belief in her renown,
With tokens thus, and thus; averring notes
Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet,
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 doft,

[Coming forward: Italian fiend!-ah me, moft credulous fool,

Egregious murderer, thief, any thing

That's due to all the villains paft, in being,
To come Oh, give me cord, or knife, or poifon,
Some upright jufticer! Thou, King, fend out
For torturers ingenious; it is I

That all the abhorr'd things othearth amend

By being worse than they. I am Pofthumus,
That kill'd thy daughter;-villain-like, I lie;
That caus'd a lefler villain than myself,

A facrilegious thief, to do 't. The temple
Of virtue was fhe, yea, and fhe herself.
Spit, and throw ftones, calt mire upon me, fet
The dogs o' th' street to bay me; every villain ·
Be call'd Pofthumus Leonatus, and

Be villainy 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 ly thy part.

Pif. Oh, gentlemen, help

[Striking her, he falls.

Mine, and your miftrefs-Oh, my Lord Pofthumus!
You ne'er kill'd Imogen 'till now)
-Help, help,·
Mine honour'd Lady-

Cym. Does the world go round?

Poft. How come thefe ftaggers on me?

Pif. Wake, my mistress!

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

To death with mortal joy.

Pif. How fares my miftrefs?

Imo. O get thee from my fight;

Thou gav'it me poifon

dang'rous fellow, hence!!

Breathe not where princes are.

Cym. The tune of Imogen!

Pif. Lady, the gods throw itones 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 poifoned me.

Cor., Oh Gods!

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

Cym. 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 ftuff, which being ta'en, would cease
The prefent power of life; but, in short time,
All offices of nature fhould 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.

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

Think that you are upon a rock *, and now
Throw me again.

Poft. Hang there like fruit, my foul,

'Till the tree die!

Cym. How now, my flesh? my child?

What, mak'ft thou me a dullard in this act?
Wilt thou not speak to me?

Imo. Your bleffing, Sir.

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

You had a motive for't.

Cym. My tears that fall,

[Kneeling.

[To Guid. Arvir,

Prove holy-water on thee! Imogen,

Thy mother's dead.

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

Cym. 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 speak truth. Lord Cloten, Upon my Lady's mifling, came to me

With his fword drawn, foam'd at the mouth, -and fwore,

If I discover'd not which way fhe went,

* Confider, that you have juft efcaped being wrecked in the full perfuafion of my infidelity and death, and are at last got safe on a rock; now throw me from you again, if your heart will give you leave. Revifal,