SCENE IV. A Prison. Enter POSTHUMUS, and Two Gaolers. 1 Gaol. You shall not now be stolen, you have locks upon you; So, graze, as you find pasture. 2 Gaol. Post. Most welcome, bondage! for thou art a way, I think, to liberty: Yet am I better Than one that's sick o'the gout: since he had rather Groan so in perpetuity, than be cur'd By the sure physician, death; who is the key To unbar these locks. My conscience! thou art fetter'd More than my shanks, and wrists: You good gods, give me The penitent instrument, to pick that bolt, 4 Fetters. On their abatement; that's not my desire: [He sleeps. Solemn Musick. 5 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 Musick before them. Then, after other Musick, 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 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 stay'd Thou should'st have been, and shielded him 5 This scene is supposed not to be Shakspeare's, but Moth. Lucina lent not me her aid, Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry, That he deserv'd the praise o'the world, 1 Bro. When once he was mature for man, That could stand up his parallel; Or fruitful object be In eye of Imogen, that best Could deem his dignity? Moth. With marriage wherefore was he mock'd, From her his dearest one, Sici. Why did you suffer Iachimo, To taint his nobler heart and brain And to become the geck6 and scorn 2 Bro. For this, from stiller seats we came, Fell bravely, and were slain; Our fealty, and Tenantius' right, 1 Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath 6 The fool. Then Jupiter, thou king of gods, Being all to dolours turn'd? 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 Thunder-bolt. The Ghosts fall on their knees. Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region low, No care of yours it is; you know, 'tis ours. His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent. Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in Our temple was he married.-Rise, and fade! He shall be lord of lady Imogen, And happier much by his affliction made. This tablet lay upon his breast; wherein mine.- 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!) And yet are steep'd in favours; so am I, 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 |