For you a mortal mineral; which, being took,
Should by the minute feed on life, and lingering,
By inches waste you: in which time she purposed,
By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to
O'ercome you with her show: yes, and in time
(When she had fitted you with her craft) to work
Her son into the adoption of the crown.
But failing of her end by his strange absence,
Grew shameless-desperate; opened, in despite
Of heaven and men, her purposes; repented
The evils she hatched were not effected; so,
Despairing, died.
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Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;
Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart
That thought her like her seeming: it had been
vicious
To have mistrusted her: yet, O my daughter!
That it was folly in me, thou mayst say,
And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all!
Enter LUCIUS, LACHIMO, the Soothsayer, and other
Roman prisoners, guarded: POSTHUMUS be-
hind, and IMOGEN.
Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute; that
The Britons have razed out, though with the loss
Of many a bold one; whose kinsmen have made
That their good souls may be appeased with slaughter
Of you their captives, which ourself have granted:
Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war: the day
Was yours by accident; had it gone with us,
We should not, when the blood was cool, have
threatened
Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods
Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives.
May be called ransom, let it come: sufficeth,
A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer:
Augustus lives to think on 't: and so much.
His favor is familiar to me.
Boy, thou hast looked thyself into my grace,
And art mine own. I know not why nor where-
fore
To say live, boy: ne'er thank thy master; live:
And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,
Fitting my bounty and thy state, I'll give it :
Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner,
The noblest ta'en.
Thou art, my good youth, my page;
I'll be thy master: walk with me; speak freely.
[CYMBELINE and IMOGEN converse apart.
Bel. Is not this boy revived from death?
Arv.
One sand another
Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad
Who died, and was Fidele. What think you?
Gui. The same dead thing alive.
Cym. My daughter! what of her? Renew thy
I had rather thou shouldst 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 (ac-
cursed
The mansion where !) —'t was at a feast (O'would
Bel. Peace, peace! see further; he eyes us not; Our viands had been poisoned! or, at least,
What's that to him? [Aside.
Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say
How came it yours?
Iach. Thou 'It torture me to leave unspoken that
Which, to be spoke, would torture thee.
For beauty that made barren the swelled boast
Of him that best could speak: for feature, laming
The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerva,
Postures beyond brief nature; for condition,
A shop of all the qualities that man
Loves woman for; besides, that hook of wiving,
Fairness, which strikes the eye:
I stand on fire:
Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. - This Post-
humus
(Most like a noble lord in love, and one
That had a royal lover) took his hint;
And, not dispraising whom we praised (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
Were cracked of kitchen trulls, or his description
Iach. I am glad to be constrained to utter that Proved us unspeaking sots.
Torments me to conceal. By villainy
I got this ring: 't was Leonatus' jewel;
Nay, nay, to the purpose.
Iach. Your daughter's chastity—there it begins!
Whom thou didst banish; and (which more may He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams,
As it doth me) a nobler sir ne'er lived
And she alone were cold: whereat, I, wretch!
Made scruple of his praise; and wagered with him
'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my Pieces of gold 'gainst this, which then he wore
And would so had it been a carbuncle
Of Phoebus' wheel; and might so safely, had it
Been all the worth of his car. Away to Britain
Post I in this design: well may you, sir,
Remember me at court, where I was taught
Of your chaste daughter the wide difference
'T wixt amorous and villanous. Being thus
Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain.
'Gan in your duller Britain operate
Most vilely for my vantage, excellent;
And, to be brief, my practice so prevailed,
That I returned with simular 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
(0, cunning, how I got it!), nay, some marks
Of secret on her person, that he could not
But think her bond of chastity quite cracked,
I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon, —
Methinks I see him now,
[Coming forward.
Ah me, most credulous fool,
Egregious murderer, thief, anything
That's due to all the villains past, in being,
To come! O, give me cord, or knife, or poison,
Some upright justicer! Thou, king, send out
For torturers ingenious: it is I
That all the abhorréd things o' the earth amend,
By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,
That killed thy daughter:-villain-like, I lie;
That caused a lesser villain than myself,
A sacrilegious thief, to do't: the temple
Of virtue was she; yea, and she, herself.
Spit and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
The dogs o' the street to bay me: every villain
Be called Posthumus Leonatus; and
Be villany less than 't was!-O Imogen!
My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen!
Imogen, Imogen!
There lie thy part. [Striking her: she falls.
What's this, Cornelius?
Cor. The queen, sir, very oft importuned me To temper poisons for her; still pretending The satisfaction 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 cease The present power of life; but, in short time, All offices of nature should again Do their due functions. - Have you ta'en of it? Imo. Most like I did, for I was dead. Bel. My boys,
Imo. Why did you throw your wedded lady
Think that you are upon a rock; and now
Post. Hang there like fruit, my soul,
How now, my flesh, my child?
Pisa.
Mine and your mistress. O, my lord Posthmus! Wilt thou not speak to me?
What mak'st thou me a dullard in this act?
Cym. O, she was naught; and 'long of her They were not born for bondage.
Cym.
Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for,
How of descent
By tasting of our wrath?
As good as we?
In that he spake too far.
Cym. And thou shalt die for 't.
Bel.
We will die all three:
But I will prove that two of us are as good
As I have given out him. My sons, I must,
For mine own part, unfold a dangerous speech,
Though, haply, well for you.
Arv.
Your danger's ours.
Gui. And our good his.
Have at it,
thou hadst, great king, a subject who
Assumed this age: indeed, a banished man;
I know not how a traitor.
Ere I arise, I will prefer my sons;
Then spare not the old father. Mighty sir,
These two young gentlemen, that call me father,
And think they are my sons, are none of mine;
By thy own tongue thou art condemned, and They are the issue of your loins, my liege,
Your pleasure was my mere offense, my punish- I have got two worlds by 't.-O, my gentle
Itself, and all my treason; that I suffered,
Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes
(For such and so they are), these twenty years
Have I trained up: those arts they have as I
Could put into them; my breeding was, sir, as
Your highness knows. Their nurse, Euriphile,
Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children
Upon my banishment: I moved her to 't;
Having received the punishment before
For that which I did then: beaten for loyalty
Excited me to treason: their dear loss,
The more of you 't was felt, the more it shaped
Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir,
Here are your sons again and I must lose
Two of the sweet'st companions in the world.
The benediction of these covering heavens
Fall on their heads like dew! for they are How parted with your brothers? how first met
Why fled you from the court; and whither?
And your three motives to the battle, with
I know not how much more, should be demanded; And all the other by-dependencies,
From chance to chance; but nor the time, nor place,
Will serve our long inter'gatories. See,
Posthumus anchors upon Imogen ;
And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brothers, me, her master; hitting
Each object with a joy; the counterchange
Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground,
And smoke the temple with our sacrifices. —
Thou art my brother; so we'll hold thee ever.
[To BELARIUS.
Imo. You are my father too; and did relieve me,
To see this gracious season.
Cym. The forlorn soldier that so nobly fought, He would have well becomed this place, and graced The thankings of a king. I am, sir,
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