Cymbeline - Act 5, scene 5
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Navigate this workCymbeline - Act 5, scene 5
Act 5, scene 5
Cymbeline knights Belarius and the two young men in gratitude for their valor, and sends in search of the poor soldier who aided in his rescue. The doctor enters to tell the king that his queen has died, confessing her hatred of Cymbeline and her plans to kill Imogen. Caius Lucius is brought in and told that he and his army will be killed; he begs the life of Fidele, which Cymbeline grants, along with whatever gift the boy might ask. Instead of asking for Caius Lucius’s life, Fidele asks to interrogate Iachimo as to where he got the diamond ring he is wearing.
As Iachimo tells the story of how he had slandered Imogen, Posthumus comes forward, reveals who he is, and in his grief calls Imogen’s name. She runs to him, but he pushes her away and she falls. Pisanio tells Posthumus that the boy is Imogen. As Posthumus and Imogen embrace and Imogen is reunited with her father, Pisanio explains to Cymbeline about Cloten’s journey to Milford Haven. Guiderius finishes the story by telling how he killed Cloten and cut off his head. Cymbeline has Guiderius arrested.
Belarius, to save Guiderius’s life, confesses to Cymbeline that the young men are the two lost princes. Cymbeline welcomes his new family, Imogen is reintroduced to her brothers, and Cymbeline not only pardons Caius Lucius but also grants a pardon to all and promises to pay Rome the tribute he had earlier refused.Enter Cymbeline, Belarius ⌜as Morgan,⌝ Guiderius ⌜as
Polydor,⌝ Arviragus ⌜as Cadwal,⌝ Pisanio, ⌜Attendants,⌝
CYMBELINE, ⌜to Morgan, Polydor, and Cadwal⌝
3206 Stand by my side, you whom the gods have made
3207 Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart
3208 That the poor soldier that so richly fought,
3209 Whose rags shamed gilded arms, whose naked breast
3210 5 Stepped before targes of proof, cannot be found.
3211 He shall be happy that can find him, if
3212 Our grace can make him so.
BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ 3213 I never saw
3214 Such noble fury in so poor a thing,
3215 10 Such precious deeds in one that promised naught
3216 But beggary and poor looks.
CYMBELINE 3217 No tidings of him?
3218 He hath been searched among the dead and living,
3219 But no trace of him.
3220 15 To my grief, I am
3221 The heir of his reward, which I will add
3222 To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain,
3223 By whom I grant she lives. ’Tis now the time
3224 To ask of whence you are. Report it.
BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ 3225 20 Sir,
3226 In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen.
3227 Further to boast were neither true nor modest,
3228 Unless I add we are honest.
CYMBELINE 3229 Bow your knees.
⌜They kneel. He taps their shoulders with his sword.⌝
3230 25 Arise my knights o’ th’ battle. I create you
3231 Companions to our person, and will fit you
3232 With dignities becoming your estates.⌜They rise.⌝
Enter Cornelius and Ladies.
3233 There’s business in these faces. Why so sadly
3234 Greet you our victory? You look like Romans,
3235 30 And not o’ th’ court of Britain.
CORNELIUS 3236 Hail, great king.
3237 To sour your happiness I must report
3238 The Queen is dead.
CYMBELINE 3239 Who worse than a physician
3240 35 Would this report become? But I consider
3241 By med’cine life may be prolonged, yet death
3242 Will seize the doctor too. How ended she?
3243 With horror, madly dying, like her life,
3244 Which, being cruel to the world, concluded
3245 40 Most cruel to herself. What she confessed
3246 I will report, so please you. These her women
3247 Can trip me if I err, who with wet cheeks
3248 Were present when she finished.
CYMBELINE 3249 Prithee, say.
3250 45 First, she confessed she never loved you, only
3251 Affected greatness got by you, not you;
3252 Married your royalty, was wife to your place,
3253 Abhorred your person.
CYMBELINE 3254 She alone knew this,
3255 50 And but she spoke it dying, I would not
3256 Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed.
3257 Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love
3258 With such integrity, she did confess
3259 Was as a scorpion to her sight, whose life,
3260 55 But that her flight prevented it, she had
3261 Ta’en off by poison.
CYMBELINE 3262 O, most delicate fiend!
3263 Who is ’t can read a woman? Is there more?
3264 More, sir, and worse. She did confess she had
3265 60 For you a mortal mineral which, being took,
3266 Should by the minute feed on life and, ling’ring,
3267 By inches waste you. In which time she purposed,
3268 By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to
3269 O’ercome you with her show and, in time,
3270 65 When she had fitted you with her craft, to work
3271 Her son into th’ adoption of the crown;
3272 But failing of her end by his strange absence,
3273 Grew shameless desperate; opened, in despite
3274 Of heaven and men, her purposes; repented
3275 70 The evils she hatched were not effected; so
3276 Despairing died.
CYMBELINE 3277 Heard you all this, her women?
LADIES 3278 We did, so please your Highness.
CYMBELINE 3279 Mine eyes
3280 75 Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;
3281 Mine ears that ⌜heard⌝ her flattery; nor my heart,
3283 To have mistrusted her. Yet, O my daughter,
3284 That it was folly in me thou mayst say,
3285 80 And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all.
Enter Lucius, Iachimo, ⌜Soothsayer,⌝ and other Roman
prisoners, ⌜Posthumus⌝ Leonatus behind, and Imogen
⌜as Fidele, with Briton Soldiers as guards.⌝
3286 Thou com’st not, Caius, now for tribute. That
3287 The Britons have razed out, though with the loss
3288 Of many a bold one, whose kinsmen have made suit
3289 That their good souls may be appeased with slaughter
3290 85 Of you their captives, which ourself have granted.
3291 So think of your estate.
3292 Consider, sir, the chance of war. The day
3293 Was yours by accident. Had it gone with us,
3294 We should not, when the blood was cool, have
3295 90 threatened
3296 Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods
3297 Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives
3298 May be called ransom, let it come. Sufficeth
3299 A Roman with a Roman’s heart can suffer.
3300 95 Augustus lives to think on ’t; and so much
3301 For my peculiar care. This one thing only
3302 I will entreat: my boy, a Briton born,
3303 Let him be ransomed. Never master had
3304 A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
3305 100 So tender over his occasions, true,
3306 So feat, so nurselike. Let his virtue join
3307 With my request, which I’ll make bold your Highness
3308 Cannot deny. He hath done no Briton harm,
3309 Though he have served a Roman. Save him, sir,
3310 105 And spare no blood beside.
CYMBELINE 3311 I have surely seen him.
3312 His favor is familiar to me.—Boy,
3314 And art mine own. I know not why, wherefore,
3315 110 To say “Live, boy.” Ne’er thank thy master. Live,
3316 And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,
3317 Fitting my bounty and thy state, I’ll give it,
3318 Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner,
3319 The noblest ta’en.
IMOGEN, ⌜as Fidele⌝ 3320 115 I humbly thank your Highness.
3321 I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad,
3322 And yet I know thou wilt.
IMOGEN, ⌜as Fidele⌝ 3323 No, no, alack,
3324 There’s other work in hand. I see a thing
3325 120 Bitter to me as death. Your life, good master,
3326 Must shuffle for itself.
LUCIUS 3327 The boy disdains me,
3328 He leaves me, scorns me. Briefly die their joys
3329 That place them on the truth of girls and boys.
3330 125 Why stands he so perplexed?
⌜Imogen stares at Iachimo.⌝
CYMBELINE 3331 What would’st thou, boy?
3332 I love thee more and more. Think more and more
3333 What’s best to ask. Know’st him thou look’st on?
3335 130 Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? Thy friend?
IMOGEN, ⌜as Fidele⌝
3336 He is a Roman, no more kin to me
3337 Than I to your Highness, who, being born your vassal,
3338 Am something nearer.
CYMBELINE 3339 Wherefore ey’st him so?
IMOGEN, ⌜as Fidele⌝
3340 135 I’ll tell you, sir, in private, if you please
3341 To give me hearing.
CYMBELINE 3342 Ay, with all my heart,
3343 And lend my best attention. What’s thy name?
3344 Fidele, sir.
CYMBELINE 3345 140 Thou ’rt my good youth, my page.
3346 I’ll be thy master. Walk with me. Speak freely.
⌜Cymbeline and Imogen walk aside and talk.⌝
BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝
3347 Is not this boy revived from death?
ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ 3348 One sand another
3349 Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad
3350 145 Who died, and was Fidele. What think you?
GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 3351 The same dead thing alive.
BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝
3352 Peace, peace. See further. He eyes us not. Forbear.
3353 Creatures may be alike. Were ’t he, I am sure
3354 He would have spoke to us.
GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 3355 150 But we see him dead.
BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝
3356 Be silent. Let’s see further.
PISANIO, ⌜aside⌝ 3357 It is my mistress!
3358 Since she is living, let the time run on
3359 To good or bad.
⌜Cymbeline and Imogen come forward.⌝
CYMBELINE, ⌜to Imogen⌝ 3360 155 Come, stand thou by our side.
3361 Make thy demand aloud. (⌜To Iachimo.⌝) Sir, step
3362 you forth.
3363 Give answer to this boy, and do it freely,
3364 Or by our greatness and the grace of it,
3365 160 Which is our honor, bitter torture shall
3366 Winnow the truth from falsehood.—On. Speak to
IMOGEN, ⌜as Fidele, pointing to Iachimo’s hand⌝
3368 My boon is that this gentleman may render
3369 Of whom he had this ring.
POSTHUMUS, ⌜aside⌝ 3370 165 What’s that to him?
3371 That diamond upon your finger, say
3372 How came it yours.
3373 Thou ’lt torture me to leave unspoken that
3374 Which to be spoke would torture thee.
CYMBELINE 3375 170 How? Me?
3376 I am glad to be constrained to utter that
3377 Which torments me to conceal. By villainy
3378 I got this ring. ’Twas Leonatus’ jewel,
3379 Whom thou didst banish, and—which more may
3380 175 grieve thee,
3381 As it doth me—a nobler sir ne’er lived
3382 ’Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my lord?
3383 All that belongs to this.
IACHIMO 3384 That paragon, thy daughter,
3385 180 For whom my heart drops blood and my false spirits
3386 Quail to remember—Give me leave; I faint.
3387 My daughter? What of her? Renew thy strength.
3388 I had rather thou shouldst live while nature will
3389 Than die ere I hear more. Strive, man, and speak.
3390 185 Upon a time—unhappy was the clock
3391 That struck the hour!—it was in Rome—accursed
3392 The mansion where!—’twas at a feast—O, would
3393 Our viands had been poisoned, or at least
3394 Those which I heaved to head!—the good
3395 190 Posthumus—
3396 What should I say? He was too good to be
3397 Where ill men were, and was the best of all
3398 Amongst the rar’st of good ones—sitting sadly,
3399 Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
3400 195 For beauty that made barren the swelled boast
3401 Of him that best could speak; for feature, laming
3402 The shrine of Venus or straight-pight Minerva,
3403 Postures beyond brief nature; for condition,
3405 200 Loves woman for, besides that hook of wiving,
3406 Fairness which strikes the eye—
CYMBELINE 3407 I stand on fire.
3408 Come to the matter.
IACHIMO 3409 All too soon I shall,
3410 205 Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. This Posthumus,
3411 Most like a noble lord in love and one
3412 That had a royal lover, took his hint,
3413 And, not dispraising whom we praised—therein
3414 He was as calm as virtue—he began
3415 210 His mistress’ picture; which by his tongue being made
3416 And then a mind put in ’t, either our brags
3417 Were cracked of kitchen trulls, or his description
3418 Proved us unspeaking sots.
CYMBELINE 3419 Nay, nay, to th’ purpose.
3420 215 Your daughter’s chastity—there it begins.
3421 He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams
3422 And she alone were cold; whereat I, wretch,
3423 Made scruple of his praise and wagered with him
3424 Pieces of gold ’gainst this, which then he wore
3425 220 Upon his honored finger, to attain
3426 In suit the place of ’s bed and win this ring
3427 By hers and mine adultery. He, true knight,
3428 No lesser of her honor confident
3429 Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring,
3430 225 And would so, had it been a carbuncle
3431 Of Phoebus’ wheel, and might so safely, had it
3432 Been all the worth of ’s car. Away to Britain
3433 Post I in this design. Well may you, sir,
3434 Remember me at court, where I was taught
3435 230 Of your chaste daughter the wide difference
3436 ’Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quenched
3437 Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
3438 Gan in your duller Britain operate
3440 235 And to be brief, my practice so prevailed
3441 That I returned with simular proof enough
3442 To make the noble Leonatus mad
3443 By wounding his belief in her renown
3444 With tokens thus and thus; averring notes
3445 240 Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet—
3446 O, cunning how I got ⌜it⌝!—nay, some marks
3447 Of secret on her person, that he could not
3448 But think her bond of chastity quite cracked,
3449 I having ta’en the forfeit. Whereupon—
3450 245 Methinks I see him now—
POSTHUMUS, ⌜coming forward⌝ 3451 Ay, so thou dost,
3452 Italian fiend.—Ay me, most credulous fool,
3453 Egregious murderer, thief, anything
3454 That’s due to all the villains past, in being,
3455 250 To come. O, give me cord, or knife, or poison,
3456 Some upright justicer.—Thou, king, send out
3457 For torturers ingenious. It is I
3458 That all th’ abhorrèd things o’ th’ Earth amend
3459 By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,
3460 255 That killed thy daughter—villainlike, I lie—
3461 That caused a lesser villain than myself,
3462 A sacrilegious thief, to do ’t. The temple
3463 Of virtue was she, yea, and she herself.
3464 Spit and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
3465 260 The dogs o’ th’ street to bay me. Every villain
3466 Be called Posthumus Leonatus, and
3467 Be villainy less than ’twas. O Imogen!
3468 My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen,
3469 Imogen, Imogen!
IMOGEN, ⌜running to Posthumus⌝ 3470 265 Peace, my lord!
3471 Hear, hear—
3472 Shall ’s have a play of this? Thou scornful page,
3473 There lie thy part.⌜He pushes her away; she falls.⌝
3475 270 Mine and your mistress! O my lord Posthumus,
3476 You ne’er killed Imogen till now! Help, help!
3477 Mine honored lady—
CYMBELINE 3478 Does the world go round?
3479 How comes these staggers on me?
PISANIO 3480 275 Wake, my mistress.
3481 If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me
3482 To death with mortal joy.
PISANIO 3483 How fares my mistress?
IMOGEN 3484 O, get thee from my sight!
3485 280 Thou gav’st me poison. Dangerous fellow, hence.
3486 Breathe not where princes are.
CYMBELINE 3487 The tune of Imogen!
3488 Lady, the gods throw stones of sulfur on me if
3489 That box I gave you was not thought by me
3490 285 A precious thing. I had it from the Queen.
3491 New matter still.
IMOGEN 3492 It poisoned me.
CORNELIUS 3493 O gods!
3494 ⌜To Pisanio.⌝ I left out one thing which the Queen
3495 290 confessed,
3496 Which must approve thee honest. “If Pisanio
3497 Have,” said she, “given his mistress that confection
3498 Which I gave him for cordial, she is served
3499 As I would serve a rat.”
CYMBELINE 3500 295 What’s this, Cornelius?
3501 The Queen, sir, very oft importuned me
3502 To temper poisons for her, still pretending
3503 The satisfaction of her knowledge only
3504 In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs,
3506 Was of more danger, did compound for her
3507 A certain stuff which, being ta’en, would cease
3508 The present power of life, but in short time
3509 All offices of nature should again
3510 305 Do their due functions.—Have you ta’en of it?
3511 Most like I did, for I was dead.
BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan, aside to Guiderius and Arviragus⌝ 3512 My boys,
3513 There was our error.
GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 3514 This is sure Fidele.
IMOGEN, ⌜to Posthumus⌝
3515 310 Why did you throw your wedded lady from you?
3516 Think that you are upon a rock, and now
3517 Throw me again.⌜She embraces him.⌝
POSTHUMUS 3518 Hang there like fruit, my soul,
3519 Till the tree die.
CYMBELINE, ⌜to Imogen⌝ 3520 315 How now, my flesh, my child?
3521 What, mak’st thou me a dullard in this act?
3522 Wilt thou not speak to me?
IMOGEN, ⌜kneeling⌝ 3523 Your blessing, sir.
BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan, aside to Guiderius and Arviragus⌝
3524 Though you did love this youth, I blame you not.
3525 320 You had a motive for ’t.
CYMBELINE, ⌜to Imogen⌝ 3526 My tears that fall
3527 Prove holy water on thee. Imogen,
3528 Thy mother’s dead.
IMOGEN 3529 I am sorry for ’t, my lord.
3530 325 O, she was naught, and long of her it was
3531 That we meet here so strangely. But her son
3532 Is gone, we know not how nor where.
PISANIO 3533 My lord,
3534 Now fear is from me, I’ll speak truth. Lord Cloten,
3536 With his sword drawn, foamed at the mouth, and
3538 If I discovered not which way she was gone,
3539 It was my instant death. By accident,
3540 335 I had a feignèd letter of my master’s
3541 Then in my pocket, which directed him
3542 To seek her on the mountains near to Milford;
3543 Where, in a frenzy, in my master’s garments,
3544 Which he enforced from me, away he posts
3545 340 With unchaste purpose and with oath to violate
3546 My lady’s honor. What became of him
3547 I further know not.
GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 3548 Let me end the story.
3549 I slew him there.
CYMBELINE 3550 345 Marry, the gods forfend!
3551 I would not thy good deeds should from my lips
3552 Pluck a hard sentence. Prithee, valiant youth,
3553 Deny ’t again.
GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝ 3554 I have spoke it, and I did it.
CYMBELINE 3555 350He was a prince.
GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝
3556 A most incivil one. The wrongs he did me
3557 Were nothing princelike, for he did provoke me
3558 With language that would make me spurn the sea
3559 If it could so roar to me. I cut off ’s head,
3560 355 And am right glad he is not standing here
3561 To tell this tale of mine.
CYMBELINE 3562 I am sorrow for thee.
3563 By thine own tongue thou art condemned and must
3564 Endure our law. Thou ’rt dead.
IMOGEN 3565 360 That headless man
3566 I thought had been my lord.
CYMBELINE 3567 Bind the offender,
3568 And take him from our presence.
⌜Attendants bind Guiderius.⌝
3570 365 This man is better than the man he slew,
3571 As well descended as thyself, and hath
3572 More of thee merited than a band of Clotens
3573 Had ever scar for.—Let his arms alone.
3574 They were not born for bondage.
CYMBELINE 3575 370 Why, old soldier,
3576 Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for
3577 By tasting of our wrath? How of descent
3578 As good as we?
ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ 3579 In that he spake too far.
CYMBELINE, ⌜to Morgan⌝
3580 375 And thou shalt die for ’t.
BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ 3581 We will die all three
3582 But I will prove that two on ’s are as good
3583 As I have given out him.—My sons, I must
3584 For mine own part unfold a dangerous speech,
3585 380 Though haply well for you.
ARVIRAGUS, ⌜as Cadwal⌝ 3586 Your danger’s ours.
GUIDERIUS, ⌜as Polydor⌝
3587 And our good his.
BELARIUS, ⌜as Morgan⌝ 3588 Have at it, then.—By leave,
3589 Thou hadst, great king, a subject who
3590 385 Was called Belarius.
CYMBELINE 3591 What of him? He is
3592 A banished traitor.
BELARIUS 3593 He it is that hath
3594 Assumed this age; indeed a banished man,
3595 390 I know not how a traitor.
CYMBELINE 3596 Take him hence.
3597 The whole world shall not save him.
BELARIUS 3598 Not too hot.
3599 First pay me for the nursing of thy sons
3600 395 And let it be confiscate all, so soon
3601 As I have received it.
CYMBELINE 3602 Nursing of my sons?
3603 I am too blunt and saucy. Here’s my knee.
3604 Ere I arise I will prefer my sons,
3605 400 Then spare not the old father. Mighty sir,
3606 These two young gentlemen that call me father
3607 And think they are my sons are none of mine.
3608 They are the issue of your loins, my liege,
3609 And blood of your begetting.
CYMBELINE 3610 405 How? My issue?
3611 So sure as you your father’s. I, old Morgan,
3612 Am that Belarius whom you sometime banished.
3613 Your pleasure was my ⌜mere⌝ offense, my punishment
3614 Itself, and all my treason. That I suffered
3615 410 Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes—
3616 For such and so they are—these twenty years
3617 Have I trained up; those arts they have as I
3618 Could put into them. My breeding was, sir, as
3619 Your Highness knows. Their nurse Euriphile,
3620 415 Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children
3621 Upon my banishment. I moved her to ’t,
3622 Having received the punishment before
3623 For that which I did then. Beaten for loyalty
3624 Excited me to treason. Their dear loss,
3625 420 The more of you ’twas felt, the more it shaped
3626 Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir,
3627 Here are your sons again, and I must lose
3628 Two of the sweet’st companions in the world.
3629 The benediction of these covering heavens
3630 425 Fall on their heads like dew, for they are worthy
3631 To inlay heaven with stars.⌜He weeps.⌝
CYMBELINE 3632 Thou weep’st and speak’st.
3633 The service that you three have done is more
3634 Unlike than this thou tell’st. I lost my children.
3635 430 If these be they, I know not how to wish
3636 A pair of worthier sons.
3638 This gentleman whom I call Polydor,
3639 Most worthy prince, as yours is true Guiderius;
3640 435 This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arviragus,
3641 Your younger princely son. He, sir, was lapped
3642 In a most curious mantle, wrought by th’ hand
3643 Of his queen mother, which for more probation
3644 I can with ease produce.
CYMBELINE 3645 440 Guiderius had
3646 Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star.
3647 It was a mark of wonder.
BELARIUS 3648 This is he,
3649 Who hath upon him still that natural stamp.
3650 445 It was wise Nature’s end in the donation
3651 To be his evidence now.
CYMBELINE 3652 O, what am I,
3653 A mother to the birth of three? Ne’er mother
3654 Rejoiced deliverance more.—Blest pray you be,
3655 450 That after this strange starting from your orbs,
3656 You may reign in them now.—O Imogen,
3657 Thou hast lost by this a kingdom!
IMOGEN 3658 No, my lord.
3659 I have got two worlds by ’t.—O my gentle brothers,
3660 455 Have we thus met? O, never say hereafter
3661 But I am truest speaker. You called me “brother”
3662 When I was but your sister; I you “brothers”
3663 When we were so indeed.
CYMBELINE 3664 Did you e’er meet?
3665 460 Ay, my good lord.
GUIDERIUS 3666 And at first meeting loved,
3667 Continued so until we thought he died.
3668 By the Queen’s dram she swallowed.
CYMBELINE, ⌜to Imogen⌝ 3669 O, rare instinct!
3672 Hath to it circumstantial branches which
3673 Distinction should be rich in. Where, how lived you?
3674 And when came you to serve our Roman captive?
3675 470 How parted with your ⌜brothers⌝? How first met
3677 Why fled you from the court? And whither?
3678 ⌜To Belarius.⌝ These,
3679 And your three motives to the battle, with
3680 475 I know not how much more, should be demanded,
3681 And all the other by-dependences
3682 From chance to chance; but nor the time nor place
3683 Will serve our long interrogatories. See,
3684 Posthumus anchors upon Imogen;
3685 480 And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
3686 On him, her brothers, me, her master, hitting
3687 Each object with a joy; the counterchange
3688 Is severally in all. Let’s quit this ground,
3689 And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.
3690 485 Thou art my brother, so we’ll hold thee ever.
IMOGEN, ⌜to Belarius⌝
3691 You are my father too, and did relieve me
3692 To see this gracious season.
CYMBELINE 3693 All o’erjoyed
3694 Save these in bonds; let them be joyful too,
3695 490 For they shall taste our comfort.
IMOGEN, ⌜to Lucius⌝ 3696 My good master,
3697 I will yet do you service.
LUCIUS 3698 Happy be you!
3699 The forlorn soldier that so nobly fought,
3700 495 He would have well becomed this place and graced
3701 The thankings of a king.
POSTHUMUS 3702 I am, sir,
3703 The soldier that did company these three
3705 500 The purpose I then followed. That I was he,
3706 Speak, Iachimo. I had you down and might
3707 Have made you finish.
IACHIMO, ⌜kneeling⌝ 3708 I am down again,
3709 But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee,
3710 505 As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you,
3711 Which I so often owe; but your ring first,
3712 And here the bracelet of the truest princess
3713 That ever swore her faith.
⌜He holds out the ring and bracelet.⌝
POSTHUMUS 3714 Kneel not to me.
3715 510 The power that I have on you is to spare you;
3716 The malice towards you to forgive you. Live
3717 And deal with others better.
CYMBELINE 3718 Nobly doomed.
3719 We’ll learn our freeness of a son-in-law:
3720 515 Pardon’s the word to all.⌜Iachimo rises.⌝
ARVIRAGUS, ⌜to Posthumus⌝ 3721 You holp us, sir,
3722 As you did mean indeed to be our brother.
3723 Joyed are we that you are.
3724 Your servant, princes.—Good my lord of Rome,
3725 520 Call forth your soothsayer. As I slept, methought
3726 Great Jupiter upon his eagle backed
3727 Appeared to me, with other spritely shows
3728 Of mine own kindred. When I waked, I found
3729 This label on my bosom, whose containing
3730 525 Is so from sense in hardness that I can
3731 Make no collection of it. Let him show
3732 His skill in the construction.
LUCIUS 3733 Philarmonus!
SOOTHSAYER, ⌜coming forward⌝
3734 Here, my good lord.
LUCIUS 3735 530 Read, and declare the meaning.
⌜SOOTHSAYER⌝ reads. 3736 Whenas a lion’s whelp shall, to
3738 by a piece of tender air; and when from a
3739 stately cedar shall be lopped branches which, being
3740 535 dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the
3741 old stock, and freshly grow; then shall Posthumus
3742 end his miseries, Britain be fortunate and flourish
3743 in peace and plenty.
3744 Thou, Leonatus, art the lion’s whelp.
3745 540 The fit and apt construction of thy name,
3746 Being Leo-natus, doth import so much.
3747 ⌜To Cymbeline.⌝ The piece of tender air thy virtuous
3749 Which we call “mollis aer,” and “mollis aer”
3750 545 We term it “mulier,” which “mulier” I divine
3751 Is this most constant wife; who, even now,
3752 Answering the letter of the oracle,
3753 ⌜To Posthumus⌝ Unknown to you, unsought, were
3754 clipped about
3755 550 With this most tender air.
CYMBELINE 3756 This hath some seeming.
3757 The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
3758 Personates thee; and thy lopped branches point
3759 Thy two sons forth, who, by Belarius stol’n,
3760 555 For many years thought dead, are now revived,
3761 To the majestic cedar joined, whose issue
3762 Promises Britain peace and plenty.
CYMBELINE 3763 Well,
3764 My peace we will begin. And, Caius Lucius,
3765 560 Although the victor, we submit to Caesar
3766 And to the Roman Empire, promising
3767 To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
3768 We were dissuaded by our wicked queen,
3769 Whom heavens in justice both on her and hers
3770 565 Have laid most heavy hand.
3771 The fingers of the powers above do tune
3772 The harmony of this peace. The vision
3773 Which I made known to Lucius ere the stroke
3774 Of ⌜this yet⌝ scarce-cold battle at this instant
3775 570 Is full accomplished. For the Roman eagle,
3776 From south to west on wing soaring aloft,
3777 Lessened herself and in the beams o’ th’ sun
3778 So vanished; which foreshowed our princely eagle,
3779 Th’ imperial Caesar, should again unite
3780 575 His favor with the radiant Cymbeline,
3781 Which shines here in the west.
CYMBELINE 3782 Laud we the gods,
3783 And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils
3784 From our blest altars. Publish we this peace
3785 580 To all our subjects. Set we forward. Let
3786 A Roman and a British ensign wave
3787 Friendly together. So through Lud’s Town march,
3788 And in the temple of great Jupiter
3789 Our peace we’ll ratify, seal it with feasts.
3790 585 Set on there. Never was a war did cease,
3791 Ere bloody hands were washed, with such a peace.