In eye of Imogen, that best Moth. With marriage wherefore was he mock'd, Sici. Why did you suffer Iachimo, To taint his nobler heart and brain And to become the geck and scorn 2 Bro. For this, from stiller seats we came, Our fealty, and Tenantius' right, 1 Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath Upon a valiant race, thy harsh And potent injuries: Moth. Since, Jupiter, our son is good, Sici. Peep through thy marble mansion; help! To the shining synod of the rest, 2 Bro. Help, Jupiter; or we appeal, 6 The fool. JUPITER descends in Thunder and Lightning, sitting upon an Eagle: he throws a Thunder-bolt. The Ghosts fall on their knees. Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region low, Offend our hearing; hush! How dare yo ghosts, Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt, you know, No care of yours it is, you know 'tis ours. His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent. And happier much by his affliction made. [Ascends. More sweet than our bless'd fields: his royal bird All. Thanks, Jupiter! Sici. The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd His radiant roof:-Away! and, to be blest, Let us with care perform his great behest. [Ghosts vanish. Post. [Waking.] Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire, and begot A father to me: and thou hast created A mother and two brothers: But (O scorn!) ; That have this golden chance, and know not why.What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O, rare one! Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment [Reads.] When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself known, without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches, which, being dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace and plenty. 'Tis still a dream; or else such stuff as madmen The action of my life is like it, which Re-enter Gaolers. Gaol. Come, sir, are you ready for death? Gaol. Hanging is the word, sir; if you be ready for that you are well cooked. Post. So, if I prove a good repast to the spectators, the dish pays the shot. Gaol. A heavy reckoning for you, sir: But the comfort is, you shall be called to no more payments, fear no more tavern bills; which are often the sadness of parting, as the procuring of mirth: you come in faint for want of meat, depart reeling with too much drink; sorry that you have paid too much, and sorry that you are paid too much; purse and brain both empty: the brain the heavier for being too light, the purse too light, being drawn of heaviness: O! of this contradiction you shall now be quit.O the charity of a penny cord! it sums up thousands in a trice: you have no true debitor and creditor but it; of what's past, is, and to come, the discharge: - Your neck, sir, is pen, book, and counters; so the acquittance follows. Post. I am merrier to die, than thou art to live. Gaol. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the tooth-ach: But a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think, he would change places with his officer: for, look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go. Post. Yes, indeed, do I, fellow. Gaol. Your death has eyes in's head then; I have not seen him so pictured: you must either be directed by some that take upon them to know; or také upon yourself that, which I am sure you do not know; or jump the after-inquiry on your own peril : and how you shall speed in your journey's end, I think you'll never return to tell one. 7 Post. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to direct them the way I am going, but such as wink, and will not use them. Gaol. What an infinite mock is this, that a man 7. Hazard. of should have the best use of eyes, to see the way blindness! I am sure, hanging's the way of winking. Enter a Messenger. Mess. Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to the king. Post. Thou bringest good news; - I am called to be made free. Gaol. I'll be hanged then. Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the dead. [Exeunt POSTHUMUS and Messenger. Gaol. Unless a man would marry a gallows, and beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. ' Yet, on my conscience, there are verier knaves desire to live, for all he be a Roman: and there be some of them too, that die against their wills; so should I, if I were one. I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good; O, there were desolation of gaolers, and gallowses! I speak against my present profit; but my wish hath a preferment in't. [Exeunt. SCENE V. Cymbeline's Tent. Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, Lords, Officers, and Attendants. Cym. Stand by my side, you whom the gods have made Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart, Forward. |