To have sav'd their carcasses! took heel to do 't,
And yet died too! I, in mine own woe charm'd,1
Could not find Death where I did hear him groan,
Nor feel him where he struck: being an ugly monster,
'Tis strange he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds,
Sweet words; or hath more ministers than we
That draw his knives i' the war.
him:
For being now a favourer to the Briton,
No more a Briton, I have resum❜d again
The part I came in: fight I will no more,
But yield me to the veriest hind that shall
Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is
Here made by the Roman; great the answer be
Britons must take: for me, my ransom's death;
On either side I come to spend my breath;
Which neither here I'll keep nor bear again,
But end it by some means for Imogen.
Enter two British Captains and Soldiers.
FIRST CAP. Great Jupiter be prais'd! Lucius is taken :
"Tis thought the old man and his sons were Angels.
SEC. CAP. There was a fourth man, in a silly2 habit,
That gave the affront with them.
But none of 'em can be found. Stand! who's there?
POST. A Roman;
Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds
Had answer'd him.
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, ARVIRAGUS,
PISANIO, Soldiers, Attendants, and Roman Captives.
The Captains present POSTHUMUS to CYMBELINE,
who delivers him over to a Gaoler: then exeunt
SCENE IV. The Same. A Prison.
Enter POSTHUMUS and two Gaolers.
FIRST GAOL. You shall not now be stol'n, you have locks
So graze as you find pasture.
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:
You rather mine, being your's: and so, great Powers,
If you will take this audit, take this life,
And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen!
I'll speak to thee in silence.
Solemn music. 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
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.
FIRST 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?
JUPITER descends in thunder and lightning, sitting upon
The Ghosts fall
an eagle: he throws a thunderbolt.
on their knees.
JUP. No more, you petty Spirits of region low,
Offend our hearing; hush! How dare you Ghosts
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 :
Be not with mortal accidents opprest;
No care of your's it is; you know 'tis our's.
Whom best I love I cross; to make my gift,
The more delay'd, delighted. Be content;
Your low-laid son our Godhead will uplift:
His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.
Our Jovial Star reign'd at his birth, and in
Our temple was he married. Rise, and fade!
He shall be Lord of Lady Imogen,
And happier much by his affliction made.
This tablet lay upon his breast; wherein
Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine:
And so, away! no further with your din
Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.
Mount, Eagle, to my palace crystalline.
SICI. He came in thunder; his celestial breath
Was sulphurous to smell: the holy eagle
Stoop'd, as to foot us: his ascension is
More sweet than our blest fields: his royal bird
Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak,
As when his God is pleas'd.
SICI. The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd
His radiant roof. Away! and, to be blest,
Let us with care perform his great behest.
POST. [waking.] Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire, and
A father to me; and thou hast created
A mother and two brothers: but-O scorn!
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