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, (Oh, 'would Our viands had been poison'd! or, at least, Those which I heav'd to head!) the good Posthu mus Cym. Come to the matter. Tach. Your daughter's chastity-there it begins. He spake of her, as Dian had hot dreams, And she alone were cold: whereat, I,-wretch!-* In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring Away to Britain Post I in this design: well may you, sir, To be brief, my practice so prevail'd, That he could not But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd, I having ta'en the forfeit. Methinks, I see him now,- Whereupon, [Coming forward. Italian fiend!-Ah me, most credulous fool, Egregious murderer, thief, any thing That's due to all the villains past, in being, To come!-Oh, give me cord, or knife, or poison, I am Posthumus, That kill'd thy daughter :-the temple Of virtue was she; yea, and she herself. Be villany less than 'twas !-Oh, Imogen! Imog. Peace, my lord; hear, hear Post. Thou scornful page, there is no peace for me. [Striking her; she falls. Pisanio. Oh, gentlemen, help, help Mine, and your mistress :-Oh, my Lord Posthumus! You ne'er kill'd Imogen till now :-Help! help!Mine honour'd lady! Post. How come these staggers on me? Pisanio. Wake, my mistress! Cym. If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me To death with mortal joy. Imog. Why did you throw your wedded lady from you? Think, that you are upon a rock; and now, Throw me again. [Runs into his Arms. Post. Hang there like fruit, my soul, Till the tree die ! Cym. My child! my child! my dearest Imogen! Imog. Your blessing, sir. [Kneeling. Bel. Though you did love this youth, I blame you not; You had a motive for't. Cym. Imogen, Thy mother's dead. [To GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGUS. Imog. I am sorry for't, my lord. Cym. Oh, she was naught; and 'long of her it was, That we meet here so strangely: but her son Is gone, we know not how, nor where. [PISANIO and IMOGEN retire with POSTHUMUS; the GUARDS take off his Chains. Guid. Let me end his story: 'Twas I, that slew him. Cym. Marry, the gods forefend! I would not thy good deeds should from my lips Guid. I have spoke it, and I did it. Cym. He was a prince. Guid. A most uncivil one: the wrongs he did me Were nothing prince-like; for he did provoke me With language that would make me spurn the sea, If it could so roar to me: I cut off's head; And am right glad, he is not standing here To tell this tale of mine. Cym. I am sorry for thee: By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and must Endure our law-Bind the offender, And take him from our presence. [GUARDS advance. Bel. Stay, sir king: This man is better than the man he slew, As well descended as thyself; and hath More of thee merited, than a band of Clotens Had ever scar for.-Let his arms alone; They were not born for bondage. Cym. Why, old soldier, [To the GUARDS. Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for, By tasting of our wrath? How of descent As good as we? Bel. I am too blunt, and saucy: Here's my knee: Mighty sir, These two young gentlemen, that call me father, POSTHUMUS, IMOGEN, and PISANIO, come forward. Bel. So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan, 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 Cym. Thou weep'st, and speak'st. I lost my children; If these be they, I know not how to wish Bel. This is he; Who hath upon him still that natural stamp: Cym. Bless'd may you be, That, after this strange starting from your orbs, Imog. No, my lord; I have got two worlds by't.-Oh, my gentle brothers, Have we thus met? Oh, never say hereafter, But I am truest speaker: you call'd me brother, When I was but your sister; I you brothers, When you were so indeed. Cym. Did you e’er meet ?— Aro. Ay, my good lord. Guid. And at first meeting lov'd. When shall I hear all through ?-How liv'd you? where? And when came you to serve our Roman captive? Will serve our long intergatories.-See, And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye Save these in bonds; let them be joyful too, For they shall taste our comfort. [GUARDS take off their Chains. The forlorn soldier, that so nobly fought, He would have well becom❜d this place, and grac'd The thankings of a king. Post. I am, sir, The soldier that did company these three The purpose I then follow'd:-That I was he, Iach. I am down again: But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee, But, your ring first; And here the bracelet of the truest princess, That ever swore her faith: Now take that life, 'beseech you, Which I so often owe. Post. Kneel not to me: The [Kneels. 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.-Laud we the gods; And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils |