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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
A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
So feat, so nurse-like. Let his virtue join
With my request, which, I'll make bold, your highness
Though he have serv'd a Roman. Save him, sir,
I have surely seen him:
His favour is familiar to me1.-Boy,
Thou hast look'd thyself into my grace,
And art mine own.-I know not why, nor wherefore2,
To say, live, boy: ne'er thank thy master; live,
And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,
The noblest ta'en.
I humbly thank your highness. Luc. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad, And yet I know thou wilt.
No, no; alack!
9 SO FEAT,] So neat, ready, clever, in this instance: it also sometimes means fine or brave, according to Minsheu. See p. 141.
1 His FAVOUR is familiar to me.] Here, as in many other places, "favour"
is used for countenance. See Vol. vii. p. 24, &c.
I know not why, nor wherefore,] "Nor" was added by Rowe, and is necessary to the sense.
There's other work in hand.-I see a thing
Bitter to me as death.-Your life, good master,
The boy disdains me,
He leaves me, scorns me: briefly die their joys,
What would'st thou, boy?
I love thee more and more; think more and more What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st on?
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.
Wherefore ey'st him so? Imo. I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please
To give me hearing.
Ay, with all my heart,
And lend my best attention. What's thy name?
Imo. Fidele, sir.
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 reviv'd from death?
One sand another
Who died, and was Fidele.-What think you?
Bel. Peace, peace! see farther; he eyes us not: forbear.
Creatures may be alike: were't he, I am sure
He would have spoke to us.
But we saw him dead.
It is my mistress!
Bel. Be silent; let's see farther.
Since she is living, let the time run on,
To good, or bad.
[CYMBELINE and IMOGEN come forward. Come, stand thou by our side:
Make thy demand aloud.-Sir, [To IACHIMO.] step you forth;
Give answer to this boy, and do it freely,
Winnow the truth from falsehood.-On, speak to him.
What's that to him?
Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say,
How came it yours?
Iach. Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken that
Which, to be spoke, would torture thee.
Iach. I am glad to be constrain'd to utter that
Torments me to conceal. By villany
I got this ring: 'twas Leonatus' jewel ;
Whom thou didst banish; and (which more may grieve
As it doth me) a nobler sir ne'er liv'd
"Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my
Cym. All that belongs to this.
That paragon, thy daughter,
For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits
Quail to remember,-Give me leave; I faint.
I had rather thou should'st live while nature will,
Strive man, and speak.
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, (O! would
Our viands had been poison'd, or at least
Those which I heav'd to head) the good Posthumus,
For beauty, that made barren the swell'd boast
Loves woman for; besides, that hook of wiving,
Come to the matter.
I stand on fire.
All too soon I shall,
Unless thou would'st grieve quickly.-This Posthumus,
(Most like a noble lord in love, and one
That had a royal lover) took his hint;
And, not dispraising whom we prais'd, (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
Prov'd us unspeaking sots.
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
In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring
3 - straight-PIGHT Minerva,] "Pight" is pitched or fixed. See Vol. vi. p. 135; Vol. vii. p. 393: "straight-pight" therefore seems to mean, standing upright in a fixed posture, and with this sense the compound epithet has great appropriateness.
By her's and mine adultery. He, true knight,
Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring;
Of Phoebus' wheel; and might so safely, had it
By wounding his belief in her renown
Ay, so thou dost,
Italian fiend!-Ah me! most credulous fool,
That's due to all the villains past, in being,
That all the abhorred things o' the earth amend,
4(0 cunning, how I got IT!)] "It," required by the sense and the metre, was added in the folio, 1632, and it is, of course, to be found in the two later impressions in the same form.