Britons must take. For me, my ransom's death; Enter two British Captains and Soldiers. 1 Cap. Great Jupiter be praised! Lucius is taken. 'Tis thought the old man and his sons were angels. Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly habit, That gave the affront with them. 1 Cap. So 'tis reported; But none of them can be found.-Stand! who is there? Post. A Roman; Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds Had answered him. 2 Cap. Lay hands on him; a dog! A leg of Rome shall not return to tell What crows have pecked them here. He brags his service As if he were of note; bring him to the king. Enter CYMBELINE, attended; BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, and Roman Captives. The Captains present POSTHUMUS to CYMBELINE, who delivers him over to a Jailer: after which, all go out. SCENE IV. A Prison. Enter POSTHUMUS and two Jailers. 1 Jail. You shall not now be stolen, you have locks upon you; So graze as you find pasture. 2 Jail. Ay, or a stomach. [Exeunt Jailers. Than one that's sick o' the gout; since he had rather By the sure physician, death; who is the key To unbar these locks. My conscience! thou art fettered Then, free forever! Is't enough, I am sorry? If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take I know you are more clement than vile men, [He sleeps. Solemn music. Enter, as 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 POSTHUMUS 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, I died, whilst in the womb he staid Whose father, then, (as men report, Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him Moth. Lucina lent not me her aid, That from me was Posthumus ripped, Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry, That he deserved the praise o' the world, As great Sicilius' heir. 1 Bro. When once he was mature for man, In Britain where was he That could stand up his parallel; In eye of Imogen, that best Moth. With marriage wherefore was he mocked, 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, With honor to maintain. 1 Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath Then Jupiter, thou king of gods, The graces, for his merits due; Sici. Thy crystal window ope; look out; 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. 2 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. knees. The ghosts fall on their Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region low, 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 oppressed; 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. Sici. He came in thunder; his celestial breath. More sweet than our blessed fields; his royal bird All. Thanks, Jupiter! Sici. The marble pavement closes; he is entered His radiant roof.-Away! and, to be blessed, 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 (0 scorn!) Gone! they went hence so soon as they were born. On greatness' favor, dream as I have done; Wake, and find nothing.-But, alas, I swerve. [Reads.] When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, 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 Re-enter Jailers. Jail. Come, sir, are you ready for death? Jail. 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. Jail. 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 the 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 trice; you have no true debtor 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. Jail. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache. 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. Jail. 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 take 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 me. |