Shakespeare's First Folio Part 690

Cym. He was a Prince

Gui. A most inciuill one. The wrongs he did mee Were nothing Prince-like; for he did prouoke me With Language that would make me spurne the Sea, If it could so roare to me. I cut off's head, And am right glad he is not standing heere To tell this tale of mine

Cym. I am sorrow for thee: By thine owne tongue thou art condemn'd, and must Endure our Law: Thou'rt dead

Imo. That headlesse man I thought had bin my Lord Cym. Binde the Offender, And take him from our presence

Bel. Stay, Sir King.

This man is better then the man he slew, As well descended as thy selfe, and hath More of thee merited, then a Band of Clotens Had euer scarre for. Let his Armes alone, They were not borne for bondage

Cym. Why old Soldier: Wilt thou vndoo the worth thou art vnpayd for By tasting of our wrath? How of descent As good as we?

Arui. In that he spake too farre

Cym. And thou shalt dye for't

Bel. We will dye all three, But I will proue that two one's are as good As I haue giuen out him. My Sonnes, I must For mine owne part, vnfold a dangerous speech, Though haply well for you

Arui. Your danger's ours

Guid. And our good his

Bel. Haue at it then, by leaue Thou hadd'st (great King) a Subiect, who Was call'd Belarius

Cym. What of him? He is a banish'd Traitor

Bel. He it is, that hath a.s.sum'd this age: indeed a banish'd man, I know not how, a Traitor

Cym. Take him hence, The whole world shall not saue him

Bel. Not too hot; First pay me for the Nursing of thy Sonnes, And let it be confiscate all, so soone As I haue receyu'd it

Cym. Nursing of my Sonnes?

Bel. I am too blunt, and sawcy: heere's my knee: Ere I arise, I will preferre my Sonnes, Then spare not the old Father. Mighty Sir, These two young Gentlemen that call me Father, And thinke they are my Sonnes, are none of mine, They are the yssue of your Loynes, my Liege, And blood of your begetting

Cym. How? my Issue

Bel. So sure as you, your Fathers: I (old Morgan) Am that Belarius, whom you sometime banish'd: Your pleasure was my neere offence, my punishment It selfe, and all my Treason that I suffer'd, Was all the harme I did. These gentle Princes (For such, and so they are) these twenty yeares Haue I train'd vp; those Arts they haue, as I Could put into them. My breeding was (Sir) As your Highnesse knowes: Their Nurse Euriphile (Whom for the Theft I wedded) stole these Children Vpon my Banishment: I moou'd her too't, Hauing receyu'd the punishment before For that which I did then. Beaten for Loyaltie, Excited me to Treason. Their deere losse, The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shap'd Vnto my end of stealing them. But gracious Sir, Heere are your Sonnes againe, and I must loose Two of the sweet'st Companions in the World.

The benediction of these couering Heauens Fall on their heads like dew, for they are worthie To in-lay Heauen with Starres

Cym. Thou weep'st, and speak'st: The Seruice that you three haue done, is more Vnlike, then this thou tell'st. I lost my Children, If these be they, I know not how to wish A payre of worthier Sonnes

Bel. Be pleas'd awhile; This Gentleman, whom I call Polidore, Most worthy Prince, as yours, is true Guiderius: This Gentleman, my Cadwall, Aruiragus.

Your yonger Princely Son, he Sir, was lapt In a most curious Mantle, wrought by th' hand Of his Queene Mother, which for more probation I can with ease produce

Cym. Guiderius had Vpon his necke a Mole, a sanguine Starre, It was a marke of wonder

Bel. This is he, Who hath vpon him still that naturall stampe: It was wise Natures end, in the donation To be his euidence now

Cym. Oh, what am I A Mother to the byrth of three? Nere Mother Reioyc'd deliuerance more: Blest, pray you be, That after this strange starting from your Orbes, You may reigne in them now: Oh Imogen, Thou hast lost by this a Kingdome

Imo. No, my Lord: I haue got two Worlds by't. Oh my gentle Brothers, Haue we thus met? Oh neuer say heereafter But I am truest speaker. You call'd me Brother When I was but your Sister: I you Brothers, When we were so indeed

Cym. Did you ere meete?

Arui. I my good Lord

Gui. And at first meeting lou'd, Continew'd so, vntill we thought he dyed

Corn. By the Queenes Dramme she swallow'd

Cym. O rare instinct!

When shall I heare all through? This fierce abridgment, Hath to it Circ.u.mstantiall branches, which Distinction should be rich in. Where? how liu'd you?

And when came you to serue our Romane Captiue?

How parted with your Brother? How first met them?

Why fled you from the Court? And whether these?

And your three motiues to the Battaile? with I know not how much more should be demanded, And all the other by-dependances From chance to chance? But nor the Time, nor Place Will serue our long Interrogatories. See, Posthumus Anchors vpon Imogen; And she (like harmlesse Lightning) throwes her eye On him: her Brothers, Me: her Master hitting Each obiect with a Ioy: the Counter-change Is seuerally in all. Let's quit this ground, And smoake the Temple with our Sacrifices.

Thou art my Brother, so wee'l hold thee euer

Imo. You are my Father too, and did releeue me: To see this gracious season

Cym. All ore-ioy'd Saue these in bonds, let them be ioyfull too, For they shall taste our Comfort

Imo. My good Master, I will yet do you seruice

Luc. Happy be you

Cym. The forlorne Souldier, that so n.o.bly fought He would haue well becom'd this place, and grac'd The thankings of a King

Post. I am Sir The Souldier that did company these three In poore beseeming: 'twas a fitment for The purpose I then follow'd. That I was he, Speake Iachimo, I had you downe, and might Haue made you finish

Iach. I am downe againe: But now my heauie Conscience sinkes my knee, As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you Which I so often owe: but your Ring first, And heere the Bracelet of the truest Princesse That euer swore the Faith

Post. Kneele not to me: The powre that I haue on you, is to spare you: The malice towards you, to forgiue you. Liue And deale with others better

Cym. n.o.bly doom'd: Wee'l learne our Freenesse of a Sonne-in-Law: Pardon's the word to all

Arui. You holpe vs Sir, As you did meane indeed to be our Brother, Ioy'd are we, that you are

Post. Your Seruant Princes. Good my Lord of Rome Call forth your Sooth-sayer: As I slept, me thought Great Iupiter vpon his Eagle back'd Appear'd to me, with other sprightly shewes Of mine owne Kindred. When I wak'd, I found This Labell on my bosome; whose containing Is so from sense in hardnesse, that I can Make no Collection of it. Let him shew His skill in the construction

Luc. Philarmonus

Sooth. Heere, my good Lord

Luc. Read, and declare the meaning.

Reades.

When as a Lyons whelpe, shall to himselfe vnknown, without seeking finde, and bee embrac'd by a peece of tender Ayre: And when from a stately Cedar shall be lopt branches, which being dead many yeares, shall after reuiue, bee ioynted to the old Stocke, and freshly grow, then shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britaine be fortunate, and flourish in Peace and Plentie.

Thou Leonatus art the Lyons Whelpe, The fit and apt Construction of thy name Being Leonatus, doth import so much: The peece of tender Ayre, thy vertuous Daughter, Which we call Mollis Aer, and Mollis Aer We terme it Mulier; which Mulier I diuine Is this most constant Wife, who euen now Answering the Letter of the Oracle, Vnknowne to you vnsought, were clipt about With this most tender Aire