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Cym. Thou weep'ft, and speak'ft:

The fervice, that you three have done, is more
Unlike, than this thou tell'ft. I loft my children-
If these be they, I know not how to wish
A pair of worthier fons.

Bel. Be pleas'd a while

This gentleman, whom I call Paladour,
Most worthy Prince, as yours, is true Guiderius :
This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arviragus,
Your younger princely fon; he, Sir, was lapt
In a moft curious mantle, wrought by th' hand
Of his Queen-mother, which, for more probation,
I can with ease produce.

Cym. Guiderius had

Upon his neck a mole, a fanguine ftar;
It was a mark of wonder.

Bel. This is he;

Who hath upon him still that natʼral stamp:
It was wife Nature's end, in the donation,
To be his evidence now.

Cym. Oh, what am I

A mother to the birth of three! ne'er mother

Rejoic'd deliverance more; bleft may you be,
That, after this ftrange starting from your orbs,
You may reign in them now! oh Imogen,
Thou'ft loft by this a kingdom.

Imo. No, my Lord:

I've got two worlds by't. Oh, my gentle brothers,
Have we thus met? oh, never fay hereafter,

But I am trueft fpeaker. You call'd me brother,
When I was but your fifter: I, you brothers;

When ye were fo, indeed.

Cym. Did you e'er meet?

Arv. Ay, my good Lord.

Guid. And at first meeting lov'd;

Continued fo, until we thought he died.
Cor. By the Queen's dram the swallow'd.

Cym. O rare instinct!

When fhall I hear all through? this fierce abridgment

Hath to it circumftantial branches, which

Diftinction

Distinction should be rich in.-Where? how liv'd you?
And when came you to ferve our Roman captive?
How parted with your brothers? how firft met them ?
(31) Why fled you from the court? and whither ?—Thefe,
And your three motives to the battle, with

I know not how much more, fhould be demanded;
And all the other by-dependances

From chance to chance: but not the time, nor place,
Will ferve long interrogatories. See,
Bofthumus anchors upon Imogen;

And fhe, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brothers, me, her mafter; hitting
Each object with a joy. The counter-change
Is fev'rally in all. Let's quit this ground,
And smoke the temple with our facrifices.

Thou art my

brother; fo we'll hold thee ever. [To Bel. Imo. You are my father too, and did relieve me, To fee this gracious feafon!

Cym. All o'er-joy'd,

Save these in bonds: let them be joyful too,

For they fhall taste our comfort.

Ime. My good mafter,

I will yet do you fervice.

Luc. Happy be you!

Cym. The forlorn foldier, that fo nobly fought, He would have well becom❜d this place, and grac'd

(31) Why fled you from the Court, and whether thefe ?] By a ftrange Negligence, in all the Editions, this Paffage is ftark Nonfenfe. One Part of the mistake made is in the Word, whether; and another, is, in the falfe Pointing. It must be rectified thus ;

Why fled you from the Court? and whither? Thefe, &c.

The King is afking his Daughter, how she has lived fince her Elopement from the Court; when she enter'd herfelf in Lucius's Service; how fhe met with her Brothers, or parted from them why the fled from the Court, and to what Place: And having enumerated fo many Particulars, he ftops fhort, and cries, "All thefe circumstances, and the Motives of Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus to the Battle, together with a Number more of Occurrences by the bye, I want to be refolved in."

4

The

The thankings of a King.
Poft. 'Tis I am, Sir,

The foldier, that did company these three,
In poor Befeeming: 'twas a fitment for
The purpose I then follow'd. That I was he,
Speak, Tachimo, I had you down, and might
Have made your finish.

Iach. I am down again:

But now my heavy confcience finks my knee,

[Kneels.

And then force did. Take that life, 'befeech you,

your

Which I fo often owe: but, your ring first;

And here the bracelet of the truest Princess,
That ever swore her faith.

Poft. Kneel not to me:

The power, that I have on you, is to fpare you:
The malice tow'rds you, to forgive you. Live,
And deal with others better!

Cym. Nobly doom'd:

We'll learn our freeness of a fon-in-law;

Pardon's the word to all.

Arv. You help'd us, Sir,

As you did mean, indeed, to be our brother;

Joy'd are we, that you are.

Poft. Your fervant, Princes. Good my Lord of Rome, Call forth your Soothsayer. As I flept, methought,

Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back'd,

Appear'd to me, with other fprightly fhews

Of mine own kindred. When I wak'd, I found
This label on my bofom; whofe containing

Is fo from fenfe in hardness, that I can
Make no collection of it. Let him fhew
His fkill in the conftruction.

Luc. Philarmonus,

Sooth. Here, my good Lord.

Luc. Read, and declare the meaning.

W

[Reads.]

WHEN as a lion's whelp fhall, to himself unknown, without feeking find, and be embrac'd by a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar fhall be lopt branches, which, being dead many years, fhall after revive,

be

be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then shall Polthumus end his miferies, Britaine be fortunate, and flourish in peace and plenty.

Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp;
The fit and apt conftruction of thy name,
Being Leonatus, doth import fo much:

The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,

Which we call Mollis Aer; and Mollis Aer
We term it Mulier: which Mulier, I divine,
Is this moft conftant wife; who, even now,
Answering the letter of the Oracle,

Unknown to you, unfought, were clipt about
With this most tender air.

Cym. This has fome feeming.

[To Cymb.

Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
Perfonates thee; and thy lopt branches point
Thy two fons forth: who, by Belarius ftoll'n,
For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd,
To the majestick cedar join'd; whose Iffue
Promises Britaine peace and plenty.

Cym. My peace we will begin, and, Caius Lucius,
Although the victor, we fubmit to Cæfar,
And to the Roman Empire; promising,

To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
We were diffuaded by our wicked Queen;
On whom heav'n's justice (both on her, and hers)
Hath laid moft heavy hand.

Sooth. The fingers of the Powers above do tune
The harmony of this peace: the vifion,
Which I made known to Lucius ere the ftroke
Of this yet fcarce-cold battle, at this inftant
Is full accomplish'd. For the Roman eagle,
From fouth to weft on wing foaring aloft,
Leffen'd herself, and in the beams o'th' fun
So vanish'd; which fore-fhew'd our princely eagle,
Th' imperial Cafar, fhould again unite

His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,

Which fhines here in the west.

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Cym. Laud we the Gods!

And let the crooked smokes climb to their Noftrils
From our bleft altars! publish we this Peace
To all our Subjects. Set we forward: let
A Roman and a British Enfign wave

Friendly together; fo through Lud's town march:
And in the Temple of great Jupiter

Our Peace we'll ratify. Seal it with feasts.
Set on, there: Never was a War did cease,

Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with fuch a Peace.

[Exeunt omnes.

TROILUS

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