One sand another | And, not dispraising whom he prais'd (therein He was as calm as virtue,) he began
Not more resembles: That sweet rosy lad, Who died, and was Fidele:-What think you? Gui. The same dead thing alive.
Bel. Peace, peace! see further; he eyes us not; forbear;
Creatures may be alike: were't he, I am sure He would have spoke to us. Gui.
But we saw him dead. Bel. Be silent; let's see further. Pis.
It is my mistress: [Aside.
Since she is living, let the time run on, To good, or bad.
[Cymbeline and Imogen come forward. Сут. Come, stand thou by our side; Make thy demand aloud. Sir, [To Iach.] step you forth;
Give answer to this boy, and do it freely; Or, by our greatness, and the grace of it, Which is our honour, bitter torture shall Winnow the truth from falsehood.-On, speak to him.
Imo. My boon is, that this gentlemen may render Of whom he had this ring. Post. What's that to him?
Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say, How came it yours?
Iach. Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken that Which, to be spoke, would torture thee. Cym.
How! me? Iach. Fam glad to be constrain'd to utter that which
Torments me to conceal. By villany
I got this ring; 'twas Leonatus' jewel:
His mistress' picture; which by his tongue being
And then a mind put in't, either our brags Were crack'd of kitchen trulls, or his description Prov'd us unspeaking sots.
Nay, nay, to the purpose. lach. Your daughter's chastity-there it begins, He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams, And she alone were cold: Whereat, I, wretch! Made scruple of his praise; and wager'd with him Pieces of gold, 'gainst this which then he wore Upon his honour'd finger, to attain
In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring By hers and mine adultery: he, true knight, No lesser of her honour confident Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring, 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 'Twixt amorous and villanous. Being thus quench'd 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 prevail'd, That I return'd with similar 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
Whom thou didst banish; and (which more may But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd,
As it doth me,) a nobler sir ne'er liv'd 'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my lord?
Cym. All that belongs to this. Iach.
That paragon, thy daughter,
For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits Quail' to remember,-Give me leave; I faint.' Cym. My daughter! what of her? Renew thy strength:
I had rather thou should'st 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 mansion where!) 'twas at a feast, (O 'would Our viands had been poison'd! or, at least, Those which I heav'd to head!) the good Posthúmus (What should I say? he was too good, to be Where ill men were; and was the best of all Amongst the rar'st of good ones,) sitting sadly, Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
For beauty that made barren the swell'd 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:-
Unless thou would'st grieve quickly.-This Pos
(Most like a noble lord in love, and one
That had a royal lover,) took his hint;
(1) Sink into dejection.
Ay, so thou dost, [Coming forward. Italian fiend!-Ah me, most credulous fool, Egregious murderer, thief, any thing That's due to all the villains past, in being, To come!-0, give me cord, or knife, or poison, Some upright justicer! Thou, king, send out For torturers ingenious: it is I
That all the abhorred things o'the earth amend, By being worse than they. I am Posthúmus, That kill'd thy daughter:-villain-like, I lie; That caus'd 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 call'd, Posthúmus Leonatus; and Be villany less than 'twas!-O Imogen! My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen, Imogen, Imogen!
Cor. I left out one thing which the queen confess'd, Which must approve thee honest: If Pisanio Have, said she, given his mistress that confection Which I gave him for a cordial, she is serv'd As I would serve a rat. Cym. What's this, Cornelius ? Cor. The queen, sir, very oft impórtun'd 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.
And take him from our presence. Bel.
This man is better than the man he slew, As well descended as thyself; and hath More of thee merited, than a band of Clotens Had ever scar for.-Let his arms alone;
[To the Guard. Why, old soldier, Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for, By tasting of our wrath? How of descent As good as we? Arv. In that he spake too far. Cym. And thou shalt die for't. Bel.
They were not born for bondage. Cym.
We will die all three: But I will prove, that two of us are as good lady As I have given out him.-My sons, I must, For mine own part, unfold a dangerous speech, Though, haply, well for you.
[Embracing him. Hang there like fruit, my soul,
How now, my flesh, my child? What, mak'st thou me a dullard in this act? Wilt thou not speak to me?
Bel. Though you did love this youth, I blame ye
[To Gui. and Arv. My tears that fall,
I am sorry for't, my lord.
Prove holy water on thee! Imogen, Thy mother's dead. Imo.
Cym. O, she was naught; and 'long of her it was, That we meet here so strangely: But her son Is gone, we know not how, nor where. Pis.
Now fear is from me, I'll speak troth. Lord Cloten, Upon my lady's missing, came to me
With his sword drawn; foam'd at the mouth, and
First pay me for the nursing of thy sons; And let it be confiscate all, so soon As I have receiv'd it. Cym. Nursing of my sons? Bel. I am too blunt, and saucy: Here's my knee; 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; They are the issue of your loins, my liege, And blood of your begetting. Cym. How! my Bel. So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan, Am that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd: Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punishment Itself, and all my treason; that I suffer'd, Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes (For such, and so they are,) these twenty years Have I train'd 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 mov'd her to't; Having receiv'd the punishment before,
Save these in bonds; let them be joyful too, sir,For they shall taste our comfort.
For that which I did then: Beaten for loyalty Excited me to treason: Their dear loss, The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shap'd Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious 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 worthy To inlay heaven with stars.
Сут. Thou weep'st, and speak'st. The service that you three have done, is more Unlike than this thou tell'st: I lost my children; If 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 Polydore, Most worthy prince, as yours, is true Guiderius; This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arvirágus, Your younger princely son; he, sir, was lapp'd In a most curious mantle, wrought by the hand Of his queen mother, which, for more probation, I can with ease produce. Guiderius had
Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star; It was a mark of wonder.
Hath to it circumstantial branches, which Distinction should be rich in.2-Where? how liv'd you?
And when came you to serve our Roman captive? How parted with your brothers? how first met them?
Why fled you from the court? and whither? These, 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 intergatories. See, Posthúmus 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,
I will yet do you service. Luc. Cym. The forlorn soldier that so nobly fought, He would have well becom'd this place, and grac'd The thankings of a king.
The power that I have on you, is to spare you; The malice towards you, to forgive you: Live, And deal with others better.
Nobly doom'd: We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law; Pardon's the word to all.
As you did mean indeed to be our brother: Joy'd are we, that you are.
Post. Your servant, princes.-Good my lord of Rome,
Call forth your soothsayer: As I slept, methought, Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back,
Appear'd to me, with other spritely shows Of mine own kindred: when I wak'd, I found This label on my bosom; whose containing Is so from sense in hardness, that I can Make no collection of it; let him show His skill in the construction.
Sooth. Here, my good lord.
Read, and declare the meaning, Sooth. [Reads.] When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, without seeking, find, and be embraced by a piece of tender air: and when from a stately cedar shall be lopped 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. Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp; The fit and apt construction of thy name, Being Leo-natus, doth import so much: The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter, [To Cymbeline.
Which we call mollis aer; and mollis aer We term it mulier: which mulier I divine, Is this most constant wife; who, even now, Answering the letter of the oracle, Unknown to you, unsought, were clipp'd about" With this most tender air.
This hath some seeming. Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline, Personates thee: and thy lopp'd branches point Thy two sons forth: who, by Belarius stolen, For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd, To the majestic cedar join'd; whose issue Promises Britain peace and plenty.
Cym. Well, My peace we will begin :-And, Caius Lucius, Although the victor, we submit to Cæsar, And to the Roman empire; promising To pay our wonted tribute, from the which We were dissuaded by our wicked queen; Whom heavens, in justice (both on her and hers,) Have laid most heavy hand.
Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do tune The harmony of this peace. The vision Which I made known to Lucius, ere the stroke Of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this instant Is full accomplish'd: For the Roman eagle, From south to west on wing soaring aloft, Lessen'd herself, and in the beams o'the sun So vanish'd: which foreshow'd our princely eagle, The imperial Cæsar, should again unite His favour with the radiant Cymbeline, Which shines here in the west.
And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils; From our blessed altars! Publish we this peace To all our subjects. Set we forward: Let
A Roman and a British ensign wave
Friendly together: So through Lud's town march: And in the temple of great Jupiter
Our peace we'll ratify; seal it with feasts.- Set on there :-Never was a war did cease, Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with such a peace. [Exeunt.
This play has many just sentiments, some natural dialogues, and some pleasing scenes, but they are obtained at the expense of much incongruity. To remark the folly of the fiction, the absurdity of the conduct, the confusion of the names and manners of different times, and the impossibility of the events in any system of life, were to waste criticism upon unresisting imbecility, upon faults too evident for detection, and too gross for aggravation. JOHNSON.
Aaron, a Moor, beloved by Tamora.
A Captain, Tribune, Messenger, and Clown; Romans.
Marcus Andronicus, tribune of the people; and Goths, and Romans. brother to Titus.
Tamora, Queen of the Goths.
Lavinia, daughter to Titus Andronicus. A Nurse, and a black Child.
Kinsmen of Titus, Senators, Tribunes, Officers, Soldiers, and Attendants.
Scene, Rome; and the country near it.
SCENE I-Rome. Before the Capitol. The tomb of the Andronici appearing; the Tribunes and Senators aloft, as in the senate. Enter, below, Saturninus and his Followers, on one side; and Bassianus and his Followers, on the other; with drum and colours.
NOBLE patricians, patrons of my right, Defend the justice of my cause with arms; And, countrymen, my loving followers, Plead my successive title' with your swords: I am his first-born son, that was the last That ware the imperial diadem of Rome; Then let my father's honours live in me, Nor wrong mine age with this indignity. Bas. Romans,-friends, followers, favourers my right,-
If ever Bassianus, Cæsar's son, Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome, Keep then this passage to the Capitol; And suffer not dishonour to approach The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate, To justice, continence, and nobility: But let desert in pure election shine; And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice. Enter Marcus Andronicus aloft, with the crown.
Lives not this day within the city walls: He by the senate is accited? home, From weary wars against the barbarous Goths; That, with his sons, a terror to our foes, Hath yok'd a nation strong, train'd up in arms, Ten years are spent, since first he undertook This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms Our enemies' pride: Five times he hath return'd Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons In coffins from the field;
And now at last, laden with honour's spoils, Returns the good Andronicus to Rome, Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms. Let us entreat,-By honour of his name, Whom, worthily, you would have now succeed, And in the Capitol and senate's right, Whom you pretend to honour and adore,- That you withdraw you, and abate your strength; Dismiss your followers, and, as suitors should, of Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.
Mar. Princes that strive by factions, and by friends,
Ambitiously for rule and empery,—
Sat. How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts!
Bas. Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy In thy uprightness and integrity, And so I love and honour thee and thine, Thy nobler brother Titus, and his sons, And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all, Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament, That I will here dismiss my loving friends; And to my fortunes, and the people's favour, Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd." [Exeunt the Followers of Bassianus. Sat. Friends, that have been thus forward in my right,
thank you all, and here dismiss you all;
Know, that the people of Rome, for whom we And to the love and favour of my country
A special party, have, by their comon voice, In the election for the Roman empery, Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius, For many good and great deserts to Rome; A nobler man, a braver warrior,
(1) i. e. Title to the succession. (2) Summoned.
Commit myself, my person, and the cause.
[Exeunt the Followers of Saturninus. Rome, be as just and gracious unto me, As I am confident and kind to thee.Open the gates, and let me in. Bas. Tribunes! and me, a poor competitor. [Sat. and Bas. go into the Capitol, and exeunt with Senators, Marcus, &c.
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