Imatges de pÓgina

Britons must take : For me, my ransom's death;
On either side I come to spend my breath; 140
Which neither here I'll keep, nor bear again,
But end it by some means for Imogen.

Enter two British Captains, and Soldiers. 1 Cap. Great Jupiter be prais'd! Lucius is taken; 'Tis thought, the old man and his sons were angels.

2 Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly habit, That

gave the affront with them. 1 Cap. So 'tis reported; But none of them can be found.--Stand! Who's

Post. A Roman;
Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds
Had answer'd him.

151 2 Cap. Lay hands on him; A dog! A leg of Rome shall not return to tell What crows have peck'd them here: He brags his

service As if he were of note: bring him to the king. Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, AR

VIRAGUS, Pisanio, and Roman Captives. The Captains present POSTHUMUS to CYMBELINE, who delivers him over to a Gaoler : after which all go out.



A Prison. Enter POSTHUMUS, and two Gaolers. 1 Gaol. You shall not now be stolen, you have locks

upon you ; So, graze, as you find pasture.

2 Gaol. Ay, or a stomach. [Exeunt Gaolers.

Post. Most welcome, bondage! for thou art a way, I think, to liberty: Yet am I better Than one that's sick o'the gout ; since he had rather Groan so in perpetuity, than be cur'd By the sure physician, death ; who is the key To unbar these locks. My conscience! thou art

fetter'd More than my shanks, and wrists : You good gods,

give me
The penitent instrument, to pick that bolt,
Then, free for ever! Is't enough, I am sorry?
So children temporal fathers do appease;
Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent?
I cannot do it better than in gyves,
Desir'd, more than constrain'd: to satisfy,
If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take
No stricter render of me, than my all.
I know, you are more clement than vile men,
Who of their broken debtors take a third,
A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again
On their abatement; that's not my desire:
For Imogen’s dear life, take mine; and though


'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coin'd it : 'Tween man and man, they weigh not every stamp; Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake; 181 You rather mine, being yours: And so, great powers, If you will take this audit, take this life, And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen! l'll speak to thee in silence.

[He sleeps.

Solemn Musick. Enter, as in an Apparition, SICILIUS

LEONATUS, Father to POSTHUMUS, an old Man, attired like a Warrior; leading in his Hand an ancient Matron, his Wife, and Mother to PostHUMUS, with Musick before them. Then, after other Musick, follow the two young LEONATI, Brothers to POSTHUMUS, with Wounds as they died in the Wars. They circle POSTHUMUS round, as he lies sleeping. Sici. No more, thou thunder-master, shew

Thy spite on mortal flies :
With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,

That thy adulteries
Rates, and revenges.

190 Hath my poor boy done ought but well,

Whose face I never saw?
I dy'd, whilst in the womb he stay'd,

Attending Nature's law.
Whose father then (as men report,

Thou orphan's father art)
Thou should'st have been, and shielded him

From this earth-vexing smart.
Moth. Lucina lent not me her aid,




But took me in my throes;
That from me was Posthumus ript,

Came crying 'mongst his foes,
A thing of pity!
Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry,

Moulded the stuff so fair,
That he deserv'd the praise o' the world,

As great Sicilius' heir.
1 Bro. When once he was mature for man,

In Britain where was he That could stand up his parallel ;

Or fruitful object be In eye of Imogen, that best

Could deem his dignity? Moth. With marriage wherefore was he mock'd,

To be exil'd, and thrown
From Leonati' seat, and cast

From her his dearest one,
Sweet Imogen ?
Sici. Why did you suffer Iachimo,

Slight thing of Italy,
To taint his nobler heart and brain

With needless jealousy ;
And to become the geck and scorn

O'the other's villany? 2 Bro. For this, from stiller seats we came,

Our parents, and us twain, That, striking in our coumtry's cause,

Fell bravely, and were slain; Our fealty, and Tenantius' right,


With honour to maintain.

230 i Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath

To Cymbeline perform'd: Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods,

Why hąst thou thus adjourn'd
The graces for his merits due ;

Being all to dolours turn'd?
Sici. Thy chrystal window ope; look out;

No longer exercise,
Upon a valiant race, thy harsh
And potent injuries.

240 Moth. Since, Jupiter, our son is good,

Take off his miseries.
Sici. Peep through thy marble mansion ; help!

Or we poor ghosts will cry
To the shining synod of the rest,

Against thy deity. 2 Broth. Help, Jupiter; or we appeal,

And from thy justice fly. Jupiter descends in Thunder and Lightning, sitting upon

an Eagle; he throws a Thunder-Bolt. The Ghosts fall on their Knees. Jupit. No more, you petty spirits of region low, Offend our hearing ; hush! How dare

you, ghosts,

250 Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt you know,

Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts? Poor shadows of Elysium, hence;, and rest Upon your never-withering banks of flowers ;


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