Sec. Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly habit,

That gave the affront with them.
First Cap.

So 'tis reported : But none of 'em can be found. Stand! who's

there?

Post. A Roman,

Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds 90 Had answer'd him.

Sec. Cap.

Lay hands on him; a dog!

A leg of Rome shall not return to tell What crows have peck'd them here. He brags his service

As if he were of note: bring him to the king.

Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, Soldiers, Attendants, and Roman Captives. The Captains present PostHUMUS to Cymbeline, who delivers him over to a Gaoler: then exeunt omnes.

SCENE IV. A British prison.

Enter POSTHumus and two Gaolers

First Gaol. You shall not now be stol'n, you
have locks upon you;

So graze as you find pasture.
Sec. Gaol.

Ay, or a stomach.
[Exeunt Gaolers.

Post. Most welcome, bondage! for thou art a way,

I think, to liberty: yet am I better

Than one that's sick o' the gout; since he had

rather

Groan so in perpetuity than be cured
By the sure physician, death, who is the key

To unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art

fetter'd

More than my shanks and wrists: you good gods,

give me

The penitent instrument to pick that bolt,

Then, free for ever! Is 't enough I am sorry?
So children temporal fathers do appease;
Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent?
I cannot do it better than in gyves,

Desired more than constrain'd: to satisfy,
If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take
No stricter render of me than my all.
I know you are more clement than vile men,
Who of their broken debtors take a third,
A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again
On their abatement: that's not my desire :
For Imogen's dear life take mine; and though
'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coin'd it:
'Tween man and man they weigh not every stamp;
Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake:
You rather mine, being yours: and so, great powers,

If you will take this audit, take this life,
And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen!
I'll speak to thee in silence.

[Sleeps.

Solemn music. Enter, as in an apparition, SICILIUS LEONATUS, father to Posthumus, an old man, attired like a warrior; leading in his hand an ancient matron, his wife, and mother to Posthumus, with music before them : then, after other music, follow the two young LEONATI, brothers to Posthumus, with wounds as they died in the wars. They circle Post

HUMUS round, as he lies sleeping.

Sici. No more, thou thunder-master, show
Thy spite on mortal flies:

With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,
That thy adulteries

Rates and revenges.

Hath my poor boy done aught but well,
Whose face I never saw?

I died whilst in the womb he stay'd

Attending nature's law :

Whose father then, as men report

Thou orphans' father art,
Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him
From this earth-vexing smart.

Moth. Lucina lent not me her aid,
But took me in my throes;
That from me was Posthumus ript,
Came crying 'mongst his foes,
A thing of pity !

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Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry,
Moulded the stuff so fair,

That he deserved the praise o' the world,
As great Sicilius' heir.

First Bro. When once he was mature for man,

In Britain where was he

That could stand up his parallel ;

Or fruitful object be

In eye of Imogen, that best

Could deem his dignity?

Moth. With marriage wherefore was he mock'd,

To be exiled, and thrown

From Leonati seat, and cast

From her his dearest one,
Sweet Imogen?

Sici. Why did you suffer Iachimo,
Slight thing of Italy,

To taint his nobler heart and brain
With needless jealousy;

And to become the geck and scorn
O' th' other's villany?

Sec. Bro. For this from stiller seats we came,
Our parents and us twain,
That striking in our country's cause

Fell bravely and were slain,
Our fealty and Tenantius' right
With honour to maintain.

First Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath
To Cymbeline perform'd:
Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods,
Why hast thou thus adjourn'd

The graces for his merits due,
Being all to dolours turn'd?

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Sici. Thy crystal window ope; look out;

No longer exercise

Upon a valiant race thy harsh
And potent injuries.

Moth. Since, Jupiter, our son is good,
Take off his miseries.

Sici. Peep through thy marble mansion; help;

Or we poor ghosts will cry
To the shining synod of the rest

Against thy deity.

Both Bro. Help, Jupiter; or we appeal,
And from thy justice fly.

JUPITER descends in thunder and lightning, sitting upon an eagle: he throws a thunderbolt. The Ghosts fall on their knees.

Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region low,
Offend our hearing; hush! How dare you
ghosts

Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt, you know,
Sky-planted batters all rebelling coasts?
Poor shadows of Elysium, hence, and rest
Upon your never-withering banks of flowers:
Be not with mortal accidents opprest;

No care of yours it is; you know 'tis ours.
Whom best I love I cross; to make my gift,
The more delay'd, delighted. Be content;
Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift:
His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.
Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in

Our temple was he married. Rise, and fade.
He shall be lord of lady Imogen,

And happier much by his affliction made.

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