(For whom he now is banish'd) her own price Proclaims, how the efteem'd him and his virtue. By her election may be truly read, What kind of man he is. 2 Gent. I honour him, ev'n out of your report. But tell me, is fhe fole child to the King? 1 Gent. His only child. He had two fons, (if this be worth your hearing, 2 Gent. How long is this ago? 1 Gent. Some twenty years. 2 Gent. That a King's children should be fo con- So flackly guarded, and the search so flow 1 Gent. Howfoe'er 'tis ftrange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at, 2 Gent. I do well believe you. 1 Gent. We must forbear. Here comes the Gentle man, The Queen, and Princess. [Exeunt. Enter the Queen, Pofthumus, Imogen, and attendants: Queen. No, be affur'd, you fhall not find me, daugh ter, After the flander of moft step mothers, I'll-ey'd unto you: You're my pris'ner, but That lock up your reftraint. For you, Pofthumus, I will be known your advocate: marry, yet, The fire of rage is in him; and 'twere good, You lean'd unto his Sentence, with what patience Poft. Pleafe your Highness, Queen Queen. You know the peril : I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying. The pangs of barr'd affections; though the King His rage can do on me. You must be gone, Poft. My Queen! my Mistress! O lady, weep no more, left I give cause Than doth become a man. I will remain Re-enter Queen. Queen. Be brief, I pray you; If the King come, I fhall incur I know not How much of his difpleasure -yet I'll move him [Afide [Exit. To walk this way; I never do him wrong, But he does buy my injuries to be friends, Pays dear for my offences. Poft. Should we be taking leave, As long a term as yet we have to live, The lothness to depart would grow:-adieu! Were you but riding forth to air your felf, Such Parting were too petty. Look here, Love, Poft. Poft. How, how, another! You gentle Gods, give me but this I have, With bonds of death. Remain, remain thou here, [Putting on the ring. While fenfe can keep thee on! and Sweeteft, Faireft, As I my poor felf did exchange for you, To your so infinite lofs; so, in our trifles I ftill win of you. For my fake, wear this; Upon this faireft pris'ner. When fhall we fee again? [Putting a bracelet on her arm. Enter Cymbeline, and Lords. Poft. Alack, the King! Cym. Thou baseft Thing, avoid; hence, from my fight: If, after this Command, thou fraught the Court Thou'rt poifon to my blood. Poft. The Gods protect you, And blefs the good remainders of the Court! I'm gone. Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death More fharp than this is. Cym. O difloyal thing, (2) That should' ft repair my Youth, thou heap'st A Year's Age on me.] [Exit. That The King lov'd his Daughter, and was much vex'd and difappointed at her having married against his Confent. But, furely, his Sorrow was not very extreme, if the Effects of it only added one Year to his Age. Others have complain'd, of bringing their grey Hairs with Sorrow to the Grave. Our Cym beline feems a more temperate Mourner. But we muft correct, as my ingenious Friend Mr. Warburton acutely observ'd to me, A yare Age on me. ! i.e, a sudden, precipitate, Old Age. For the Word fignifies not only That should'st repair my youth, thou heap't Imo. I befeech you, Sir, Harm not your felf with your Vexation; I'm fenfelefs of your wrath; a touch more rare Cym. Paft grace? obedience? Imo. Paft hope, and in defpair; that way, paft grace. Cym. Thou might'ft have had the fole fon of my Queen. Imo. O, bleft, that I might not! I chose an eagle, And did avoid a puttock. Cym. Thou took'ft a beggar; would't have made my Throne A Seat for Baseness. Imo. No, I rather added A luftre to it. Cym. O thou vile one! Imo. Sir, It is your fault, that I have lov'd Pofthumus: Cym. What!- -art thou mad? Imo. Almoft, Sir; heav'n restore me! 'would I were A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus Our neighbour-fhepherd's fon!" Enter Queen. Cym. Thou foolish Thing They were again together, you have done [To the Queen Not after our Command. Away with her, And pen her up. Queen. Befeech your patience; peace, Dear lady daughter, peace. Sweet Sovereign, only nimble, dextrous, as it is many times employ'd in our Author; but likewife, as SKINNER expounds it, fervidas, promptus, præceps, impatiens,, Leave us t' our felves, and make your felf fome comfort Out of your best advice. Cym. Nay, let her languish A drop of blood a-day; and, being aged, Die of this folly. Enter Pifanio. Queen. Fie, you must give way: [Exits Here is your fervant. How now, Sir? what news? Pif. My lord your fon drew on my master. No harm, I truft, is done? Pif. There might have been, But that my mafter rather play'd, than fought, Queen. I'm very glad on't. Imo. Your fon's my father's friend, he takes his part. To draw upon an exile: O brave Sir! I would they were in Africk both together, My felf by with a needle, that I might prick Queen. This hath been Your faithful fervant: I dare lay mine honour, Pif. I humbly thank your Highness. Queen. Pray, walk a while. Imo. About fome half hour hence, pray you, fpeak with me; You fhall, at least, go For this time leave me. Enter Cloten, and two Lords. 1 Lord. Sir, I would advise you to fhift a fhirt; the violence of action hath made you reek as a facrifice. Where air comes out, air comes in: there's none abroad fo wholfome as That you vent. Clat |