2nd Gent. What's his name and birth?

1st Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: his
father

Was called Sicilius, who did join his honour
Against the Romans, with Cassibelan;
But had his titles by Tenantius, 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 Leonatus;
Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber;
Puts him to all the learnings that his time
Could make him the receiver of,-which he took,
As we do air, fast as 't was 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,
For 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.

Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN. Queen. No, be assured, you shall not find me, daughter,

After the slander of most stepmothers,
Evil-eyed unto you: you are my prisoner, but
Your gaoler 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 't were good
You leaned unto his sentence, with what patience
Your wisdom may inform you.
Please your highness,

Post.

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.

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

[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 thou here,
[Putting on the ring.
While sense can keep it on! 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. 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.

Re-enter QUEEN. Thou foolish thing!They were again together: you have done [To the QUEEN. Not after our command. Away with her, And pen her up.

Queen. 'Beseech your patience :-Peace, Dear lady daughter, peace:-Sweet sovereign, Leave us to ourselves; and make yourself some comfort

Out of your best advice.

A drop of blood a-day; and, being aged, Die of this folly!

Queen.

[Exit.

Enter PISANIO.

Fie!-you must give way:

Here is your servant.-How now, sir? what news?
Pisa. My lord your son drew on my master.
Queen.
Ha!

No harm, I trust, is done?

There might have been,

Pisa. But that my master rather played than fought, And had no help of anger: they were parted By gentlemen at hand.

Imo. Your son's my father's friend; he takes his part.

To draw upon an exile! O brave sir!

I would they were in Afric both together;
Myself by with a needle, that I might prick
The goer back.-Why came you from your master?
Pisa. On his command: he would not suffer me
To bring him to the haven: left these notes
Of what commands I should be subject to,
When it pleased you to employ me.
This hath been

Queen.

1st Lord. Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt; the violence of action hath made you reek as a sacrifice. Where air comes out, air comes in: there's none abroad so wholesome as that you vent.

Clo. If my shirt were bloody, then to shift itHave I hurt him?

2nd Lord. No, faith; not so much as his patience. [Aside.

1st Lord. Hurt him? his body's a passable carcass, if he be not hurt: it is a thoroughfare for steel, if it be not hurt.

2nd Lord. His steel was in debt; it went o' the backside the town.

[Aside.

Clo. The villain would not stand me. 2nd Lord. No; but he fled forward still, toward your face. [Aside. 1st Lord. Stand you! You have land enough of your own: but he added to your having; gave you some ground.

2nd Lord. As many inches as you have oceans.Puppies! [Aside.

Clo. I would they had not come between us. 2nd Lord. So would I, till you had measured how long a fool you were upon the ground. [Aside. Clo. And that she should love this fellow, and refuse me!

2nd Lord. If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damned. [Aside.

1st Lord. Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not together. She's a good sign, but I have seen small reflection of her wit.

2nd Lord. She shines not upon fools, lest the reflection should hurt her. [Aside.

Clo. Come, I'll to my chamber. 'Would there had been some hurt done!

2nd Lord. I wish not so; unless it had been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt. [Aside. Clo. You'll go with us?

1st Lord. I'll attend your lordship.

Clo. Nay, come, let's go together. 2nd Lord. Well, my lord.

[Exeunt.

No, madam; for so long

As he could make me with this eye or ear
Distinguish him from others, he did keep
The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief,
Still waving, as the fits and stirs of his mind
Could best express how slow his soul sailed on,
How swift his ship.

Imo. I would have broke mine eye-strings; cracked them, but

To look upon him; till the diminution
Of
space had pointed him sharp as my needle:
Nay, followed him till he had melted from
The smallness of a gnat to air; and then
Have turned mine eye, and wept.-But, good
Pisanio,

When shall we hear from him?
Pisa. Be assured, madam,
With his next vantage.

Imo. I did not take my leave of him, but had Most pretty things to say! Ere I could tell him How I would think on him, at certain hours, Such thoughts, and such; or I could make him swear The shes of Italy should not betray

Mine interest and his honour; or have charged him
At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight,
To encounter me with orisons, for then

I am in heaven for him; or ere I could
Give him that parting kiss, which I had set
Betwixt two charming words,—com
omes in my father,
And, like the tyrannous breathing of the north,
Shakes all our buds from growing.