SCENE 1-A Field between the British and Enter POSTHUMUS, with a bloody Hand- Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for Must murder wives much better than them- In my profession? Knighthoods and honours As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn. The Battle continues; the Britons fly; CYMBELINE is taken: then enter to his rescue, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and AR VIRAGUS. Bel. Stand, stand! We have the advantage of The lane is guarded, nothing routs us, but Gui. Arv. Stand, stand, and fight! Enter POSTHUMUS, and seconds the Britons : They rescue CYMBELINE, and exeunt. Then, enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, and IMOGEN. Luc. Away, boy, from the troops, and save For friends kill friends, and the disorder's such Iach. "Tis their fresh supplies. SCENE III.-Another Part of the Field. Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I Though you, it seems, come from the fliers. never Had liv'd to put on this: so had you sav'd He wretch, more worth your vengeance. But, hither Among the Italian gentry, and to fight Hear patiently my purpose: I'll disrobe me [Exit. Lord. I did. With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer Or we are Romans, and will give you that SOENE II.-The same. Enter at one side, LUCIUS, IACHIMO, and the Roman Army; at the other side, the British Army; LEONATUS POSTHUMUS following it, like a poor Soldier. They march over, and But to look back in frown: stand, stand.— go out. Alarums. Then enter again in skirmish, IACHIMO, and POSTHUMUS: he Three thousand confident, in act as many, ranquisheth and disarmeth IACHIMO, and (For three performers are the file, when all The rest do nothing,) with this word, stand, then leaves him. These three, stand, Accommodated by the place, more charming, A distaff to a lance,) gilded pale looks, But by example (O a sin in war, Damu'd in the first beginners !) 'gan to look A rout, confusion thick: Forthwith they fly O'erborne i'the former wave: ten, chas'd by one, Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty Those, that would die or ere resist, are grown The mortal bugs o'the field. Lord. This was strange chance: A narrow lane! an old man, and two boys! Post. Nay, do not wonder at it: You made are Rather to wonder at the things you hear, Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his friend: I know, he'll quickly fly my friendship too. Lord. Farewell, you are angry. To be the i'the field, and ask, what news, of me! To-day, how many would have given their honours To have sav'd their carcasses? took heel to do't, And yet died too! I, in mine own woe charm'd, Could not find death, where I did hear him groan ; monster. Nor feel him where he struck: Being an ugly [beds, 'Tis strange, he hides him in fresh cups, soft Sweet words; or bath more ministers than we That draw his knives i'the war.-Well, I will find him: For being now a favourer to the Roman, Enter two British CAPTAINS, and Soldiers. 1 Cap. Great Jupiter be prais'd! Lucius is taken; (angels. sons were in a silly [habit, 'Tis thought, the old man and his 2 Cap. There was a fourth man, That gave the affront+ with them. 1 Cap. So 'tis reported: But none of them can be found.-Stand! who is there? MUS to CYMBELINE, who delivers him over to a JAILER: after which, all go out. SCENE IV.-A Prison. Enter POSTHUMUS, and two JAILERS. 1 Jail. You shall not now be stolen, you have looks upon you; So graze as you find pasture. I 2 Juil. Ay, or a stomach. [Exeunt JAILERS. Post. Most welcome, bondage! for thou art a way, 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 More than my shanks and wrists: You good gods, give me The penitent instrument, to pick that bolt, 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 powers, Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake: [He sleeps. Solemn music. + Enter, as an Apparition, SICILIUS LEONATUS, Father to POSTHUMUS, an old Man, attired like a Warrior; lead. ing in his hand an ancient Matron, his Wife, and Mother to PoSTHUMUS, with music before them. Then, after other music, 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 show With Mars fall out, with Juno chide, Rates and revenges. Hath my poor boy done aught but well, I died, whilst in the womb he stay'd Thou orphans' father art,) Moth. Lucina lent not me her aid, That from me was Posthumus ript, Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry, That he deserv'd the praise o' the world 1 Bro. When once he was mature for man, In Britain where was he • Fetters. + Shakspeare, who has conducted this fifth act with such matchless skill, could never have interrupted the fable by this contemptible nonsense: the unjustifiable interpolation of some monastical blockhead. Scene IV. That could stand up his parallel ; Or fruitful object be In eye of Imogen, that best Could deem his dignity? Moth. With marriage wherefore To be exil'd and thrown From Leonati's seat, and cast Sici. Why did you suffer Iachimo, To taint his nobler heart and brain With needless jealousy ; And to become the geck O' the other's villany? and scorn CYMBELINE. 2 Bro. For this, from stiller seats we came, That, striking in our country's cause, Our fealty, and Tenantius' right, With honour to maintain. 1 Bro. Like hardiment Posthúmus hath To Cymbeline perform'd: Then Jupiter, thou king of gods, Why hast thou thus adjourn'd The graces for his merits due; Being all to dolours turn'd? Sici. Thy crystal window ope; look out; Upon a valiant race, thy harsh And potent injuries : 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 Bro. Help, Jupiter; or we appeal, JUPITER descends in Thunder and Lightning, knees. Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region No cure of your's it is, you know, 'tis our's. Our temple was he married.-Rise, and fade !- And happier much by his affliction made. Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine; breath Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak, All. Thanks, Jupiter! A father to me: and thou hast created That have this golden chance, and know not What faries haunt this ground? A book? O, Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment [Reads.] When as a lion's whelp shall, to 'Tis still a dream; or else such stuff as madmen The action of my life is like it, which Re-enter JAILERS. Jail. Come, Sir, are you ready for death? Post. Over-roasted rather: ready long ago. Jail. Hanging is the word Sir; if you be ready for that, you are well cooked. Post. So, if I prove a good repast to the spectators, the dish pays the shot. Jail. A heavy reckoning for you, Sir: But the comfort is, you shall be called to no more payments, fear no more tavern bills: which are often the sadness of parting, as the procuring of depart reeling with too much drink; sorry that mirth: you come in faint for want of meat, you have paid too much, and sorry that you are paid too much; purse and brain both empty : the brain the beavier for being too light, the purse too light, being drawn of heaviness: Oh! of this contradiction you shall now be quit.—Oh ! the charity of a penny cord! it sums up thousands in a trice: you have no true debitor and creditor but it; of what's past is, and to come, the discharge :-Your neck, Sir, is pen, book, and counters; so the acquittance follows. Post. I am merrier to die, than thou art to live. Jail. Indeed, Sir, he that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache: But a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he would change places with his officer : shall go. for look you, Sir, you know not which way you Post. Yes indeed do I, fellow. Jail. Your death has eyes in's head then; I them to have not seen him so pictured: you must either upon be directed by some that take know; or take upon yourself that, which I am sure you do not know; or jump the after-inquiry on your own peril: and how you shall speed in return to tell one. your own journey's end, I think you'll never Post. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want Sici. The marble pavement closes, he is eyes to direct them the way I am going, but enter'd is radiant roof:-Away! and, to be blest, The fool. such as wink, and will not use them. Jail. What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best use of eyes, to see the way of blindness! I am sure, hanging's the way of winking. • Hazard. Enter a MESSENGER. Mess. Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to the king. Post. Thou bringest good news-I am called to be made free. Jail. I'll be hang'd then. Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a jailer; no bolts for the dead. [Exeunt POSTHUMUS and MESSENGER. Jail. Unless a man would marry a gallows, and beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are verier knaves desire to live, for all he be a Roman : and there be some of them too, that die against their wills; so should I, if I were one. I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good Oh! there were desolation of jailers,and gallowses! I speak against my present profit; but my wish hath a preferment in't. [Exeunt. Such noble fury in so poor a thing; pos'd For you a mortal mineral; which, being took, Her son into the adoption of the crown. Cym. Heard you all this, her women ! Were not in fault, for she was beautiful; That thought her like her seeming; it had been vicious, To have mistrusted her yet, O my daughter! Such precious deeds in one that promis'd Enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, the SOOTHSAYER, nought But beggary and poor looks. Cym. No tidings of him? and other Roman Prisoners, guarded; POSTHUMUS behind, and IMOGEN. Pis. He hath been search'd among the dead Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute; that and living, But no trace of him. Cym. To my grief, I am The heir of his reward; which I will add Bel. Sir, In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen: Further to boast, were neither true nor modest, Unless I add, we are honest. Cym. Bow your knees: Arise my knights o'the battle: I create you Enter CORNELIUS and LADIES. There's business in these faces :-Why so sadly Greet you our victory? You look like Romans, And not o'the court of Britain Cor. Hail, great king! To sour your happiness, I must report Cym. Whom worse than a physician Cym. Pry'thee, say. The Britons have raz'd out, though with the loss Of many a bold one; whose kinsmen have made suit, [slaughter That their good souls may be appeas'd with Of you their captives, which ourself have So, think of your estate. [granted; Luc. Consider, Sir, the chance of war: the day Was your's by accident; had it gone with us, So tender over his occasions, true, So feat, so nurse-like let his virtue join higbuess Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm, Though he have serv'd a Roman: save him, Sir, And spare no blood beside. Cym. I have surely seen him : Boy, thou hast look'd thyself into my grace, wherefore, To say, live, boy: ne'er thank thy master; live: Cor. First she confess'd she never lov'd you; Fitting my bounty, and thy state, I'll give it; Scene V. Imo. No, no: alack, CYMBELINE. There's other work in hand: I see a thing Luc. The boy disdains me, He leaves me, scorns me: Briefly die their joys, That place them on the truth of girls and boys. Why stands he so perplex'd ? Cym. What would'st thou, boy? I love thee more and more; think more and more What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? thy friend? 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? Cym. Thou art my good youth, my page; Bel. Is not this boy reviv'd from death? Not more resembles: That sweet rosy lad, Bel. Peace, peace! see further; he eyes us Creatures may be alike: were't he, I am sure Gui. But we saw him dead. Bel. Be silent; let's see further. Since she is living, let the time run on, [Aside. [CYMBELINE and IMOGEN come forward. Give answer to this boy, and do it freely; Ime. My boon is, that this gentleman may of whom he had this ring. Post. What's that to him? [Aside. Cyst. That diamond upon your finger, say, How came it yours? lack. Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken that Which, to be spoke, would torture thee. Cym. How ! me? The mansion where ! ('was at a feast, (O 'would (What should I say? he was too good to be For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast Fairness which strikes the eye :-- Iach. All too soon I shall, Unless thou would'st grieve quickly.-This Post- Most like a noble lord in love, and one And then a mind put in't, either our brags Cym. Nay, nay, to the purpose. Iach. Your daughter's chastity-there it be gins. He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams, him Pieces of gold, 'gainst this which then he wore In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring Post I in this design: Well may you, Sir, quench'd Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain By wounding his belief in her renown Iach. I am glad to be constrain'd to utter that of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her brace which Torments me to conceal. By villany I got this ring; 'twas Leonatus' jewel: let, (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 boud of chastity quite crack'd, I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon,- [Coming forward. |