Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not
Glad at the thing they scowl at.

2 Gent.

And why so?

1 Gent. He that hath missed the princess, is a thing Too bad for bad report; and he that hath her, (I mean, that married her,―alack, good man!— And therefore banished,) is a creature such As, to seek through the regions of the earth 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.

2 Gent.

You speak him far.1

1 Gent. I do extend him, sir, within himself; Crush him together, rather than unfold

His father

His measure duly.
2 Gent.
What's his name, and birth?
1 Gent. I cannot delve him to the root.
Was called Sicilius, who did join his honor 2
Against the Romans, with Cassibelan;
But had his titles by Tenantius,3 whom
He served with glory and admired success.
So gained 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, deceased
As he was born. The king, he takes the babe
To his protection; calls him Posthumus;
Breeds him, and makes him of his bedchamber:
Puts him to all the learnings that his time
Could make him the receiver of; which he took,
As we do air, fast as 'twas ministered; and
In his spring became a harvest; lived in court

(Which rare it is to do) most praised, most loved;
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,2
From whom he now is banished,—her own price
Proclaims how she esteemed him and his virtue;
By her election may be truly read,

What kind of man he is.

2 Gent.

I honor him

But, 'pray you, tell me,

Even out of your report.
Is she sole child to the king?

1 Gent. His only child. He had two sons, (if this be worth your hearing, Mark it,) the eldest of them at three years old, I'the swathing clothes the other, from their nursery Were stolen; and to this hour, no guess in knowledge Which way they went.

2 Gent.

How long is this ago?

1 Gent. Some twenty years.

2 Gent. That a king's children should be so conveyed! So slackly guarded! and the search so slow,

That could not trace them!

1 Gent.

Howsoe'er 'tis strange,

Or that the negligence may well be laughed at,
Yet is it true, sir.

2 Gent.

I do well believe you.

1 Gent. We must forbear; here comes the queen

and princess.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. The same.

Enter the Queen, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN.

Queen. No, be assured, you shall not find me, daughter,

1 Feate is well-fashioned, proper, trim, handsome, well-compact (concinnus). Feature was also used for fashion or proportion. The verb to feat was probably formed by Shakspeare himself.

2 "To his mistress," means as to his mistress.

After the slander of most step-mothers,
Evil-eyed unto you; you are my prisoner, but
Your jailer shall deliver you the keys

That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
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 leaned unto his sentence, with what patience
Your wisdom may inform you.

Post.

I will from hence to-day.

Queen.

Please your highness,

You know the peril.

I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying

The pangs of barred affections; though the king
Hath charged you should not speak together.

Imo.

[Exit Queen.

0,

Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant
Can tickle where she wounds!-My dearest husband,
I something fear my father's wrath; but nothing
(Always reserved 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.

Post.
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,
Though ink be made of gall.

1 "I say I do not fear my father, so far as I may say it without breach of duty."

Queen.

Re-enter Queen.

Be brief, I pray you:

If the king come, I shall incur I know not
How much of his displeasure.-Yet I'll move him

To walk this way. I never do him wrong,
But he does buy my injuries, to be friends;
Pays dear for my offences.1

Post.

[Aside.

[Exit.

Should we be taking leave

As long a term as yet we have to live,
The loathness 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.

Post.

How! how! another?

You gentle gods, give me but this I have,

And sear up my embracements from a next

With bonds of death!-Remain, remain thou here

3

While sense can keep it on!

[Putting on the ring. And sweetest, fairest,

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.

Imo.

[Putting a bracelet on her arm. O the gods!

When shall we see again?

1 "He gives me a valuable consideration in new kindness (purchasing, as it were, the wrong I have done him), in order to renew our amity, and make us friends again."

2 Shakspeare poetically calls the cere-cloths, in which the dead are wrapped, the bonds of death. There was no distinction in ancient orthography between seare, to dry, to wither; and seare, to dress or cover with wax. Cere-cloth is most frequently spelled seare-cloth.

3 i. e. while I have sensation to retain it.

Post.

Enter CYMBELINE and Lords.

Alack, the king!

Cym. Thou basest thing, avoid! hence, from my

sight!

If, after this command, thou fraught the court

With thy unworthiness, thou diest.
Thou art poison to my blood.

Post.

Away!

The gods protect you!

And bless the good remainders of the court!

I am gone.

Imo.

There cannot be a pinch in death

More sharp than this is.

Cym.

O disloyal thing,

That shouldst repair' my youth; thou heapest
A year's age on me! 2

Imo.

I beseech you, sir,

Harm not yourself with your vexation: I

Am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare3
Subdues all pangs, all fears.

[Exit.

Cym.
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 blessed, that I might not! I chose an eagle, And did avoid a puttock.*

Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; wouldst have made my throne

A seat for baseness.

Imo.

A lustre to it.

Сут.

No; I rather added

O thou vile one!

1 i. e. renovate my youth, make me young again. "To repaire (according to Baret) is to restore to the first state, to renew."

2 Sir Thomas Hanmer reads:

66

thou heapest many

A year's age on me!"

Some such emendation seems necessary.

3 "A touch more rare" is "a more exquisite feeling."

4 A puttock is a mean, degenerate species of hawk, too worthless to deserve training.