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For one his like, there would be something failing
In him that should compare. I do not think
So fair an outward, and such stuff within,
Endows a man but he.
You speak him far.
FIRST GENT. I do extend him, Sir, within himself;
Crush him together, rather than unfold
His measure duly.
What's his name and birth?
FIRST GENT. I cannot delve him to the root: his father
Was callid Sicilius, who did join his honour
Against the Romans with Cassibelan;
But had his titles by Tenantius, whom
He serv'd with glory and admir'd success;
So gain’d the sur-addition Leonatus :
And had, besides this gentleman in question,
Two other sons, who, in the wars o' the time,
Died with their swords in hand; for which their father,
Then old and fond of issue, took such sorrow,
That he quit being; and his gentle Lady,
Big of this gentleman our theme, deceas'd
As he was born. The King he takes the babe
To his protection; calls him Posthumus Leonatus;
Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber;
Puts to him all the learnings that his time
Could make him the receiver of; which he took,
As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd; and
In's spring became a harvest; liv'd in Court
(Which rare it is to do) most prais'd, most lov'd;
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 banish’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.
I honour him
Even out of your report. But, pray you, tell me,
Is she sole child to the King ?
His only child.
He had two sons (if this be worth your hearing,
Mark it) the eldest of them at three years old,
l'the swathing-clothes the other, from their nursery
Were stoln; and to this hour no guess in knowledge 60
Which way they went.
How long is this ago ?
FIRST GENT. Some twenty years.
SEC. GENT. That a King's children should be so con-
So slackly guarded I and the search so slow,
That could not trace them! FIRST GENT.
Howsoe'er 'tis strange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh’d at,
Yet is it true, Sir.
I do well believe you.
FIRST GENT. We must forbear: here comes the gentle-
The Queen, and Princess.
Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN.
QUEEN. No, be assur'd you shall not find me, Daughter,
After the slander of most stepmothers,
Evil-ey'd unto you: you're my prisoner, but
Your gaoler shall deliver you
the keys That lock up your restraint. For
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
Please your Highness,
I will from hence to-day.
You know the peril.
I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying
of barr'd affections; though the King
Hath charg'd you should not speak together. [exit.
Dissembling Courtesy! How fine this tyrant
Can tickle where she wounds! My dearest Husband,
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.
My Queen! my Mistress!
O 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 letter: thither write, my Queen,
And with mine eyes I 'll drink the words you send, 100
Though ink be made of gall.
Re-enter the QUEEN.
Be brief, I pray you :
If the King come, I shall incur I know not
How much of his displeasure. [aside.] Yet I'll move
To walk this way: I never do him wrong,
But he does buy my injuries, to be friends;
Pays dear for
Should we be taking leave
As long a term as yet we have to live,
The lothness 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.
How, how ! another?
You gentle Gods, give me but this I have,
And searl up my embracements from a next
With bonds of death! Remain, remain thou here
(putting on the ring. While sense can keep it on !And, Sweetest, Fairest, 1 wrap up in a winding-sheet; or lock up; or a legal metaphor, from melting wax
2 i.e. while I am alive to guard it.
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
her arm. IMO.
O the Gods !
When shall we see again?
Alack, the King!
Enter CYMBELINE and Lords.
CYM. Thou basest Thing, avoid ! hence, from my sight!
If after this command thou fraught the Court
With thy unworthiness, thou diest : away!
Thou ’rt poison to my blood.
The Gods protect you !
And bless the good remainders of the Court !
I am gone.
There cannot be a pinch in death
More sharp than this is.
O disloyal Thing,
That should'st repair my youth, thou heap'st
A year's age on me!
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.
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
A seat for baseness.
No; I rather added
A lustre to it.
O thou vile One!
It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus :
You bred him as my playfellow; and he is
A man worth any woman; overbuys me
Almost the sum
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 the QUEEN.
Thou foolish Thing!
They were again together : you have done
Not after our command Away with her!
your patience. Peace,
Dear Lady Daughter, peace! Sweet Sovereign,
Leave us to ourselves; and make yourself some comfort
Out of your best advice.
Nay, let her languish
A drop of blood a day; and, being aged,
Die of this folly! [Exeunt CYMBELINE and Lords.
Fie! you must give way.
Here is your servant.
servant. How now, Sir! What news ?
Pis. My Lord your son drew on my master.
No harm, I trust, is done ?
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.
I am very glad on 't.
Imo. Your son's my father's friend; he takes his
To draw upon an exile! O brave Sir!
I would they were in Afric both together;
Myself by with a needle, that I might prick
The goer-back. Why came you from your master ?
Pis. On his command: he would not suffer me
To bring him to the haven; left these notes