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Should by the minute feed on life, and, ling'ring,
By inches waste you: In which time she purpos’d,
By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to
o'ercome you with her show: yes, and in time
(When she had fitted you with her craft), to work
Her son into the adoption of the crown.
But failing of her end by his strange absence,
Grew shameless desperate; open'd, in despite
Of heaven and men, her purposes; repented
The evils she hatch'd were not effected; so,
Despairing, died.
Сут.

Heard you all this, her women?
Lady. We did so, please your highness.
Сут.

Mine eyes
Were pot in fault, for she was beautiful;
Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart,
That thought her like her seeming; it had been vi.

cious,
To have mistrusted her: yet, O my daughter!
That it was folly in me, thou may'st say,
And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all!

Enter Lucius, lacbimo, the Soothsayer, and other

Roman Prisoners, guarded; Posthumus behind, and Imogen,

Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute; that
The Britons have raz'd out, though with the loss
Of many a bold one; whose kinsmen have made suit,
That their good souls may be appeas'd with slaughter
of you their captives, which ourself have granted;
So, think of your estate.

Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war : the day
Was yours by accident; had it gone with us,
We should not, when the blood was cool, have

threaten'd Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods, Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives May be call'd ransome, let it come: sufficeth,

A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer:
Augustus lives to think on't: And so much
For my peculiar care. This one thing only
I will entreat; My boy, a Briton born,
Let him be ransom'd: never inaster had
A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
So tender over his occasions, true,
So feat*, so purse-like: let his virtue join
With my request, which, I'll make bold, your bighness
Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton barm,
Though he have serv'd a Roman: save him, sir,
And spare no blood beside.
Cym.

I have surely seen him :
His favourt is familiar to me.
Boy, thou hast look'd thyself into my grace,
And art mine own.-I know not why, nor wherefore,
To say, live, boy: ne'er thank thy master; live:
And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,
Fitting my bounty, and thy state, I'll give it;
Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner,
The noblest ta'en.
Imo.

I humbly thank your bighness.
Luc. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad;
And yet, I know, thou wilt.
Imo.

No, no: alack,
There's other work in hand; I see a thing,
Bitter to me as death: your life, good master,
Must shuffle for itself,
Luc.

The boy disdains ine,
He leaves me, scorus 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 on?

speak, Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? thy friend?

• Ready, dextrous.

Countenance.

Imo. He is a Roman; no more kin to me, Than I to your highness; who, being boro your vas.

sal, Am something nearer. 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?

Imo. Fidele, sir.
Cym.

Thou art my good youth, my page; I'll be thy master: Walk with me; speak freely.

(Cymbeline and Imogen converse apart. Bel. Is not this boy reviv'd from death? Aro.

One sand another
Not more resembles: That sweet rosy lad,
Who died, and was Fidele :- What think you? I

Gui. The same dead thing alive.
Bel. Peace, peace! see further; he eyes us not;

forbear;
Creatures may be alike: were't he, I am sure
He would have spoke to us.
Gui.

But we saw him dead.
Bel. Be silent; let's see further.
Pis.

It is my mistress:

(Aside. Since she is living, let the time run on, To good, or bad.

(Cymbeline and Imogen come forward. Cym.

Come, stand thou by our side; Make thy demand aloud.Sir, [To Iach.] step you

forth; Give answer to this boy, and do it freely; Or, by our greatoess, and the grace of it, Which is our honour, bitter torture shall Window the truth from falsehood.-On, speak to him.

Imo. My boon is, that this gentleman may render Of whom he had this ring. Post.

What's that to him?

(Aside.

Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say, How came it yours?

lach. Thou’lt torture me to leave unspoken that Which, to be spoke, would torture thee. Cym.

How ! me? Tach. I am glad to be constrain'd to utter that

which Torments me to conceal. By villainy I got this ring; 'twas Leonatus' jewel : Whom thou didst banish; and (which more may

grieve thee, As it doth me), a nobler sir ne'er liv'd 'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my

lord? Cym. All that belongs to this.

Iach. That paragon, thy daughter,For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits Quail* to remember,–Give me leave; I faint. Cyn. My daughter! what of her? Renew thy

strength : I had rather thou should'st live while nature will, Than die ere I hear more: strive man, and speak.

Iach. Upon a time, (unhappy was the clock That struck the hour!) it was in Rome, (accurs'd The mansion where!) 'twas at a feast, (O 'would Our viands had been poison'd! or, at least, Those which I heav'd to head!) the good Posthumus (What should I say? he was too good, to be Where ill men were; and was the best of all Amongst the rar’st of good ones), sitting sadly, Hearing us praise our loves of Italy For beauty that made barren the swellid boast of him that best could speak; for feature, laming The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerva, Postures beyond brief nature; for condition, A shop of all the qualities that man Loves woman for ; besides, that hook of wiving, Fairness which strikes the eye:

• Sink into dejection.

Cym.

I stand on fire: Come to the matter. lach.

All too soon I shall, Unless thou would'st grieve quickly.-This Posthú

mus (Most like a noble lord in love, and one That had a royal lover), took bis hint; And, not dispraising whom he prais'd (therein He was as calm as virtue), he began His mistress' picture; which by his tongue being

made, And then a mind put in't, either our brags Were crack'd of kitchen trulls, or his description Prov'd us unspeaking sots. Сут.

Nay, nay, to the purpose. lach. Your daughter's chastity--there it begins. He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams, And she alone were cold : Whereat, I, wretch! Made scruple of his praise; and wager'd with him Pieces of gold, 'gainst this which then he wore Upon his honour'd finger, to attain In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring By hers and mine adultery: he, true knight, No lesser of her honour confident Than I did truly fiad her, stakes this ring, And would so, had it been a carbuncle Of Phæbus' wheel; and might so safely, had it Been all the worth of his car. Away to Britain Post I in this design: Well may you, sir, Remember me at court, where I was taught Of your chaste daughter the wide difference 'Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quench'd Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain 'Gan in your duller Britain operate Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent; And, to be brief, my practice so prevail'd, That I return'd with simular proof enough To make the noble Leonatus mad, By wounding his belief in her renown

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