Imatges de pàgina
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Puts him to all the learnings that his time
Could make him the receiver of; which he took,
As we do air, fast as 't was minister'd; and
In his spring became a harvest : Liv'd in court,
(Which rare it is to do,) most prais’d, most lovd:
A sample to the youngest ; to the more mature,
A glass that feated them; and to the graver,
A child that guided dotards: to his mistress,
For whom he now is banishi’d, --her own price
Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue ;
By her election may be truly read,
What kind of man he is.

2 Gent. I honour him
Evey out of your report. But, 'pray you, tell me,
Is she sole child to the king?

i Gent. His only child.
He had two sons; (if this be worth your hearing,
Mark it,) the eldest of them at three years old,
I'the swathing clothes the other, from their nursery
Were stolen; and to this hour, no guess in know-

ledge
Which way they went.

2 Gent. How long is this ago?
1 Gent, Some twenty years.
2 Gent. That a king's children should be so con-

vey'd!
So slackly guarded! and the search so slow,
That could not trace them!

1 Gent. Howsoe'er 'tis strange,
Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,
Yet is it true, sir.

2 Gent. I do well believe you.
i Gent. We must forbear: Here comes the queen,
and princess.

[Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same:

a

Enter the Queen, POSTHUMUS and IMOGEN. Queen. No, be assur'd, you shall not find me,

daugliter,
After the slander of most step-mothers,
Evil-ey'd unto you: you are my prisoner, but
Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys,
That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
So soon as I can win the offended king,
I will be known

your
advocate :

: marry, yet
The fire of rage is in him; and 'twere good,
You lean'd unto his sentence, with what patience-
Your wisdom may inform you.

Post. Please your highness,
I will from hence to-day.

Queen. You know the peril:--
I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying
The pangs of barr'd affections ; though the king
Hath charg'd you should not speak together.

[Exit Queen.
Imo. O,
Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant
Can tickle where she wounds !~My dearest hus..

band,
I something fear my father's wrath ; but nothing,
(Always reserv'd my holy duty,) what
His rage can do on me: You must be gone;
And I shall here abide the hourly shot
Of angry eyes; not comforted to live,
But that there is this jewel in the world,
That I may see again.

Post. My queen! my mistress!
0, lady, weep no more; lest I give cause
To be suspected of more tenderness
Than doth become a man! I will remain

The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth.
My residence in Rome at one Philario's;
Who to my father was a friend, to me
Known but by tetter: thither write, my queen,
And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send,
Though ink be made of gall.

Re-enter Queen.
Queen. Be brief, I pray you :
If the king come, I shall incur I know not
How much of his displeasure:-Yet I'll move him

[Aside.
To walk this way: I never do him wrong,
But he does buy my injuries, to be friends ;
Pays dear for my offences.

[Exit.
Post. Should we be taking leave
As long a term as yet we have to live,
The loathness to depart would grow: Adieu !

Imo. Nay, stay a little:
Were you but riding forth to air yourself,
Such parting were too petty. Look here, love;
This diamond was my mother's: take it, heart;
But keep it till you woo another wife,
When Imogen is dead.

Post. How! how! another?
You gentle gods, give me but this I have,
And sear up my embracements from a next
With bonds of death!-Remain thou here,

[Putting on the ring.
While sense can keep it on! And sweetest, fairest,
As I my poor self did exchange for you,
To your so infinite loss; so, in our trifles
I still win of you: For my sake, wear this ;
It is a manacle of love; I'll place it
Upon this fairest prisoner.

[Putting a bracelet on her arm.

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I am gone.

Imo. O, the gods! When shall we see again?

Enter CYMBELINE and Lords. Post. Alack, the king ! Cym. Thou basest thing, avoid! hence, from my

sight!
If, after this command, thou fraught the court
With thy unworthiness, thou diest : Away!
'Thou art poison to my blood.

Post. The gods protect you!
And bless the good remainders of the court !

(Exit. Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death More sharp than this is.

Cym. O disloyal thing,
That should'st repair my youth; thou heapest
A year's age on me!

Imo. I beseech you, sir,
Harm not yourself with your vexation; I
Am senseless of your wrath ; a touch more rare
Subdues all pangs, all fears.

Cym. Past grace? obedience?
Imo. Past hope, and in despair; that way, past

grace. Cym. That might'st have had the sole son of my

queen! Imo. O bless'd, that I might not! I chose an eagle, And did avoid a puttock.

Cym: Thou took'st a beggar; would'st have made

my throne

A seat for baseness.
Imo. No;

I rather added
A lustre to it.

Cym. O thou vile one !

Imo, Sir,
It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus:

You bred him as my play-fellow; and he is
A man, worth any woman; overbuys me
Almost the sum he pays.

Cym. What!-art thou mad?
Imo. Almost, sir : Heaven restore me!-'Would I

were

A neat-herd's daughter! and my Leonatus
Our neighbour shepherd's son!

Re-enter Queen.
Cym. Thou foolish thing! -
They were again together you have done

[To the Queen,
Not after our command. Away with her,
And
pen
her

up.
Queen. Beseech your patience :-Peace,
Dear lady daughter, peace;--Sweet sovereign,
Leave us to ourselves; and make yourself some com-

fort
Out of your best advice.

Cym. Nay, let her languish
A drop of blood a-day; and, being aged,
Die of this folly!

[Exit,
Enter PISANIO.
Queen, Fye! - you must give way:
Here is your servant.-How now, sir? What news?

Pis. My lord, your son, drew on my master.

Queen. Ha!
No harm, I trust, is done?

Pis. There might have been,
But that my master rather play'd than fought,
And had no help of anger: they were parted
By gentlemen at hand.

Queen. I am very glad on't.
Imo. Your son's my father's friend; he takes his
part.

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