For you a mortal mineral; which, being took,
Should by the minute feed on life, and, lingering.
By inches waste you: in which time she purposed,
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.

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

Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;

Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart,

That thought her like her seeming; it had been vicious
To have mistrusted her: yet, O my daughter!
That it was folly in me, thou mayst say,
And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven end all!

Enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, the Soothsayer, and other Roman prisoners, guarded; POSTHUMUS behind, and IMOGEN.

Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute; that
The Britons have razed out, though with the loss
Of many a bold one; whose kinsmen have made suit,
That their good souls may be appeased 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 ransom, 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 master had
A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
So tender over his occasions, true,

So feat, so nurse-like: let his virtue join
With my request, which, I'll make bold, your highness
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: His favour 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 highness.

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 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 wouldst thou, boy?

I love thee more and more; think more and more What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'ston? speak; Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? Thy friend?

Imo. He is a Roman; no more kin to me

Than I to your highness; who, being born your vassal, 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.

Imo. Fidele, Sir.

What's thy name?

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 revived from death?
Are. One sand another

Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad
Who died, and was Fidele. What think you?

Gui. The same dead thing alive.

Bel. Peace, peace! see further; he eyes us not; forCreatures 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. [Aside. It is my mistress:

Since she is living, let the time run on

[bear;

That struck the hour!) It was in Rome, (accursed
The mansion where!) 'twas at a feast, (0 would
Our viands had been poison'd, or at least

Those which I heaved to head.) the good Posthumus,
(What should I say? he wis too good to be
Where ill men were; and was the best of all
Amongst the rar'st of good ones, i sittin madly,
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy

For beauty, that made barren the swel'd boast
Of him that best could speak, for fator, lam.ng
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

Cym. I stand on fire:

Come to the matter.

Iach. All too soon I shall,

Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly --This Posthumus (Most like a noble lord in love, and one

Ihat had a royal lover) took his hint:

And, not dispraising whom we praised, (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
Proved us unspeaking sots.

Cym. Nay, nay, to the purpose.

Iach. 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 find her, stakes this ring;
And would so, had it been a carbuncle

Of Phoebus' 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 villanous. Being thus quench'd
Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
'Gan in your duller Britain operate
Most vilely, for my vanture, cxcellent;
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
With tokens thus, and thus; averring notes
Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet,
(0 cunning, how I got it!) nay, some marks
Of secret on her person, that he could not
But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd,
I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon,-
Methinks I see him now,——

Post. Coming forward.] Ay, so thou dost,
Italian fiend!--Ah me, most credulous fool,
Egregious murderer, thief, anything

That's due to all the villains past, in being,
To come!-0. give me cord, or knife, or poison,
Some upright justicer! Thou, king, send out
For torturers ingenious: it is I

That all the abhorred things o' the earth amend,
By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,
That kill'd thy daughter:--villain-like, I lie;
That caused a lesser villain than myself,
A sacrilegious thief, to do't:--the temple
Of virtue was she; yea, and she herself.

Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
The dogs o' the street to bay me: every villain

Be call'd Posthumus Leonatus; and

Be villany less than 'twas!-0 Imogen!

My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen,
Imogen, Imogen!

Imo. Peace, my lord; hear, hear

Post. Shall's have a play of this? Thou scornful page, There lie thy part. [Striking her: she jolis.

Pis. O gentlemen, help, help

Mine and your mistress!--0, my lord Posthumus!
You ne'er kill'd Imogen till now:-Help, help!-

Mine honour'd lady!

Cym. Does the world go round?

Post. How come these staggers on me?

Pis. Wake, my mistress!

Cym. If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me

To death with mortal joy.

Pis. How fares my mistress?

I left out one thing which the queen confe»»'d,
Which must approve thee honest: “If Pisinio
Have," said she, “given 1's mistress that confection
Which I gave him for a cordial, she is served
As I would serve a rat."

Cym. What's this, Cornelius?

Cor. The queen, Sir, very oft impórtuned me
To temper poisons for her; still pretending
The satisfaction of her knowledge only
In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs,
Of no esteem: I, dreading that her purpose
Was of more danger, did compound for her
A certain stuff, which, being ta'en, would cease
The present power of life; bat, in short time,
All offices of nature should again

Do their due functions. Have you ta'en of it?
Imo. Most like I did, for I was dead.

Am that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd:
Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punishment
Itself, and all my treason: that I suffer'd
Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes
(For such and so they are) these twenty years
Have I train'd up: those arts they have as I
Could put into them; my breeding was, Sir, as
Your highness knows. Their nurse. Euriphile,
Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children
Upon my banishment: I moved her to 't;
Having received the punishment before
For that which I did then: beaten for loyalty
Excited me to treason: their dear loss,
The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shaped
Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious Sir,
Here are your sons again; and I must lose
Two of the sweet'st companions in the world: -
The benediction of these covering heavens
Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy
To inlay heaven with stars.

Cym. Thou weep'st, and speak'st.
The service that you three have done is more
Unlike than this thou tell'st. I lost my children;
If these be they, I know not how to wish

Gui. And at first meeting loved;

Continued so, until we thought he died. Cor. By the queen's dram she swallow'd. Cym. O rare instinct!

When shall I hear all through? This fierce abridgment
Hath to it circumstantial branches, which

Distinction should be rich in.-Where? how lived you?
And when came you to serve our Roman captive?
How parted with your brothers? how first met them?
Why fled you from the court? and whither? These,
And your three motives to the battle, with

I know not how much more, should be demanded;
And all the other by-dependencies,

From chance to chance: but nor the time, nor place,
Will serve our long inter'gatories. See,
Posthumus anchors upon Imogen;

And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brothers, me, her master; hitting
Each object with a joy; the counterchange

Is severally in all.-Let's quit this ground,

And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.—

[TO BEL.] Thou art my brother: so we'll hold thee ever.

Imo. You are my father too: and did relieve me,

To see this gracious season.

Cym. All o'erjoy'd,

Save these in bonds; let them be joyful too,

For they shall taste our comfort.

Imo. My good master,

I will yet do you service.

Luc. Happy be you!

Cym. The forlorn soldier, that so nobly fought, He would have well become this place, and graced The thankings of a king.

Post. I am, Sir,

The soldier that did company these three

In poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for
The purpose I then follow'd. That I was he,
Speak, Tachimo; I had you down, and might
Have made you finish.

Iach. [Kneeling.] I am down again:

But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee,
As then your force did. Take that life, 'beseech you,
Which I so often owe: but your ring first;
And here the bracelet of the truest princess
That ever swore her faith.

Post. Kneel not to me;

The power that I have on you is to spare you;
The malice towards you to forgive you: live,

And deal with others better.

Cym. Nobly doom'd:

We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law;
Pardon's the word to all.

Arr. You holp us, Sir,

As you did mean indeed to be our brother;
Joy'd are we that you are.

Post. Your servant, princes.-Good my lord of Rome, Call forth your soothsayer; as I slept, methought Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back,

Appear to me, with other spritely shows

Of mine - wn kindred: when I waked, I found
This label on my bosom; whose containing
Is so from sense in hardness, that I can
Make no collection of it; let him shew
His skill in the construction.
Luc. Philarmonus,-

Sooth. Here, my good lord.

Luc. Read, and declare the meaning.

Sooth. [Reads.] "Whenas a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches, which, being dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace and plenty." Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp;

The fit and apt construction of thy name,
Being Leo-natus, doth import so much.

[To CYM.] The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter, Which we call mollis aer; and mollis aer

We term it mulier: which mulier, I divine,

Is this most constant wife; [To PosT.] who, even now,
Answering the letter of the oracle,

Unknown to you, unsought, were clipp'd about
With this most tender air.

Cym. This hath some seeming.

Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
Personates thee: and thy lopp'd branches point
Thy two sons forth: who, by Belarius stolen,
For many years thought dead, are now revived,
To the majestic cedar join'd; whose issue
Promises Britain peace and plenty.

Cym. Well,

So vanish'd: which foreshew'd our princely eagle,
The imperial Cæsar, should again unite
His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
Which shines here in the west.

My peace we will begin:- and. Cains Lucius,
Although the victor, we submit to Cesar,
And to the Roman empire, promising

To pay our wonted tricat, from the which
We were dissuaded by our wicked quen;

Whom heavens, in justies, (both on her and hers.)
Have laid most heavy hand.

Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do tune The harmony of this price. The vision Which I made known to Lucius ere the stroke Of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this instant Is full accomplish'd. for the Roman eagle, From south to west on wing soaring aloft, Lessen'd herself, and in the beams o' the sun

To sing a song of old was sang,
From ashes ancient Gower is come;
Assuming man's infirmities,

To glad your ear, and please your eyes.

It hath been sung at festivals,

On ember-eves, and holy-ales;
And lords and ladies of their lives

Have read it for restoratives:
'Purpose to make men glorious;
Et quo antiquius, eo melius.

If you, born in these latter times,

When wit's more ripe, accept my rhymes,
And that to hear an old man sing,
May to your wishes pleasure bring,
I life would wish, and that I might
Waste it for you, like taper-light.
This city, then, Antioch the Great
Built up for his chiefest seat;
The fairest in all Syria

(I tell you what mine authors say): —
This king unto him took a pheere,
Who died and left a female heir,
So buxom, blithe, and full of face,
As heaven had lent her all his grace;
With whom the father liking took,
And her to incest did provoke:
Bad father! to entice his own
To evil, should be done by none:
By custom, what they did begin
Was, with long use, account no sin.
The beauty of this sinful dume
Made many princes thither frame,
To seek her as a bed-fellow,
In marriage pleasures play fellow:
Which to prevent, he made a law,
(To keep her still, and men in awe,)
That whoso ask'd her for his wife,
His riddle told not, lost his life:

SCENE I-ANTIOCH. A Room in the Palace.

Enter ANTIOCHUS, PERICLES, and Attendants.

Ant. Young prince of Tyre, you have at large received The danger of the task you undertake.

Per. I have, Antiochus; and, with a soul Embolden'd with the glory of her praise, Think death no hazard in this enterprise.

Ant. Bring in our daughter, clothed like a bride,
For the embracements even of Jove himself;

At whose conception, (till Lucina reign'd)
Nature this dowry gave, to glad her presence,
The senate-house of planets all did sit,
To knit in her their best perfections.

Enter the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS.

Per. See, where she comes, apparelld like the spring, Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king

Of every virtue gives renown to men!

Her face the book of praises, where is read
Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence
Sorrow were ever rased, and testy wrath
Could never be her mild companion.

Ye gods, that made me man, and sway in love,
That have inflamed desire in my breast,
To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree,
Or die in the adventure, be my helps,
As I am son and servant to your will,
To compass such a boundless happiness!
Ant. Prince Pericles,-

Per. That would be son to great Antiochus.
Ant. Before thee stands this fair Hesperides,
With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touch'd;
For death-like dragons here affright thee hard:
Her face, like heaven, enticeth thee to view
A countless glory, which desert must gain:
And which, without desert, because thine eye
Presumes to reach, all thy whole heap must die.
Yon so.netime famous princes, like thyself,
Drawn by report, advent'rous by desire,

Tell thee with speechless tongues, and semblance pale,
That, without covering, save yon field of stars,
They here stand martyrs, slain in Cupid's wals;
And with dead checks advise thee to desist,

For going on death's net, whom none resist.

Por. Antiochus, I thauk thee, who hath taught My frail mortality to know itself,

And by those fearful objects to prepare
This body, like to them, to what I must:
For death remember'd should be like a mirror,
Who tells us life's but breath; to trust it, error.
I'll make my will, then; and, as sick men do,
Who know the world. see heaven, but feeling woe,
Gripe not at earthly joys, as erst they did:
So I bequeath a happy peace to you,
And all good men, as every prince should do;
My riches to the earth from whence they came;
But my unspotted fire of love to you.

[To the Daughter of ANTIOCHUS.
Thus ready for the way of life or death,
I wait the sharpest blow, Antiochus,
Scorning advice.

Ant. Read the conclusion, then;
Which read and not expounded, 'tis decreed,
As these before thee, thou thyself shalt bleed.
Daugh. In all, save that, mayst thou prove pros-
In all, save that, I wish thee happiness! [perous!

Per. Like a bold champion, I assume the lists,
Nor ask advice of any other thought
But faithfulness and courage.

"I am no viper, yet I feed

[Reads the riddle.

On mother's flesh, which did me breed:
I sought a husband, in which labour,
I found that kindness in a father.
He's father, son, and husband mild,
I mother, wife, and yet his child.
How they may be, and yet in two,
As you will live, resolve it you."

Sharp physic is the last: but, O you powers!
That give heaven countless eyes to view men's acts,
Why cloud they not their sights perpetually,
If this be true, which makes me pale to read it?-
Fair glass of light, I loved you, and could still,

[Takes hold of the hand of the Princess.
Were not this glorious casket stored with ill:
But I must tell you, now my thoughts revolt;
For he's no man on whom perfections wait,
That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate.
You're a fair viol, and your sense the strings;
Who, finger'd to inake man his lawful musie,

Would draw heaven down, and all the gods, to hearken;
But being play'd upon before your time,
Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime.
Good sooth, I care not for you.

Ant. Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life,
For that's an article within our law.
As dangerous as the rest.

Your time's expired;

Few love to hear the sins they love to act;
'Twould 'braid yourself too near for me to tell it.
Who has a book of all that monarchs do,
He's more secure to keep it shut, than shewn;
For vice repeated, is like the wand'ring wind,
Blows dust in others' eyes, to spread itself;
And yet the end of all is bought thus dear,
The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear:
To stop the air would hurt them. The blind mole casts
Copp'd hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is wrong'd
By inan's oppression; and the poor worm doth die for't.
Kings are earth's gods: in vice their law's their will;
And if Jove stray, who dares say Jove doth ill?
It is enough you know; and it is fit,

What being more known grows worse, to smother it.
All love the womb that their first beings bred,
Then give my tongue like leave to love my head.
Ant. [Aside.] Heaven, that I had thy head! he has
found the meaning:

But I will gloze with him.-[Aloud.] Young prince of
Though by the tenor of our strict edict,
[Tyre,
Your exposition misinterpreting,

We might proceed to cancel of your days;
Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree
As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise:
Forty days longer we do respite you;
If by which time our secret be undone,
This mercy shews we'll joy in such a son:
And until then your entertain shall be,
As doth befit our honour and your worth.

[Exeunt ANTIOCпes, his Daughter, and
Attendants.

Per. How courtesy would seem to cover sin,
When what is done is like a hypocrite,
The which is good in nothing but in sight!
If it be true that I interpret false,

Then were it certain you were not so bad,
As with foul incest to abuse your soul;

Where now you're both a father and a son,
By your untimely claspings with your child,
(Which pleasure fits a husband, not a father;)
And she an eater of her mother's flesh,
By the defiling of her parent's bed;

And both like serpents are, who though they feed
On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed.
Antioch, farewell! for wisdom sees, those men
Blush not in actions blacker than the night,
Will shun no course to keep them from the light.
One sin, I know, another doth provoke;
Murder's as near to lust, as flame to smoke.
Poison and treason are the hands of sin,
Ay, and the targets, to put off the shame:
Then, lest my life be cropp'd to keep you clear,
By flight I'll shun the danger which I fear.

Re-enter ANTIOCHUS.

[Erit.

SCENE II.-TYRE. A Room in the Palace.
Enter PERICLES, HELICANUS, and other Lords.
Per. Let none disturb us.-Why this charge of
The sad companion, dull-eyed melancholy, [thoughts?
By me so used a guest is, not an hour,

In the day's glorious walk, or peaceful night,
(The tomb where grief should sleep,) can breed me quiet!
Here pleasures court mine eyes, and mine eyes shun
And danger, which I fear'd, is at Antioch, [them;
Whose arm seems far too short to hit me here:
Yet neither pleasure's art can joy my spirits,
Nor yet the other's distance comfort me.
Then it is thus: the passions of the mind,
That have their first conception by mis-dread,
Have after-nourishment and life by care;
And what was first but fear what might be done,
Grows elder now, and cares it be not done.
And so with me:-the great Antiochus
(Gainst whom I am too little to contend,
Since he's so great, can make his will his act)
Will think me speaking, though I swear to silence;
Nor boots it me to say I honour him,

If he suspect I may dishonour him:
And what may make him blush in being known,
He'll stop the course by which it might be known.
With hostile forces he'll o'erspread the land,
And with the ostent of war will look so huge,
Amazement shall drive courage from the state;
Our men be vanquish'd ere they do resist,
And subjects punish'd that ne'er thought offence:
Which care of them, not pity of myself,

(Who am no more but as the tops of trees,
Which fence the roots they grow by, and defend them,)
Makes both my body pine, and soul to languish,

And punish that before, that he would punish.

1 Lord. Joy and all comfort in your sacred breast!