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beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. 5 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.
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, That the poor soldier, that so richly fought, Whose rags sham'd gilded arms, whose naked
breast Stepp'd before targe 9 of proof, cannot be found: He shall be happy that can find him, if Our grace can make him so. Bel
I never saw Such noble fury in so poor a thing ; Such precious deeds in one that promis’d nought But beggary and poor
No tidings of him? Pis. He hath been search'd among the dead and
living, But no trace of him.
9 Target, shield.
To my grief, I am
(T. BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS. By whom, I grant, she lives; 'Tis now the time
Bow your knees:
Enter CORNELIUS and Ladies.
Hail, great king !
queen is dead. Cym.
Whom worse than a physician Would this report become? But I consider, By medicine life may be prolong’d, yet death Will seize the doctor too. How ended she?
Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life; Which, being cruel to the world, concluded Most cruel to herself. What she confess'd, I will report, so please you: These her women Can trip me, if I err: who, with wet cheeks, Were present when she finish’d. Суп.
Pr’ythee, say. Cor. First, she confess’d she never lov’d you; only Affected greatness got by you, not you:
Married your royalty, was wife to your place;
your person. Cym.
She alone knew this:
O most delicate fiend !
had For you a mortal mineral; which, being took, Should by the minute feed on life, and, lingøring, By inches waste you: In which time she purpos’d, By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to O'ercome you with her show: yes, and in time, (When she had fitted you with her craft,) to work Her son into the adoption of the crown. But failing of her end by his strange absence, Grew shameless desperate; open'd, in despite Of heaven and men, her purposes; repented The evils she hatch'd were not effected; so, Despairing, died. Cym.
you all this, her women? Lady. We did so, please your highness.
Cym. Were not in fault, for she was beautiful; Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart, That thought her like her seeming; it had been
vicious, To have mistrusted her : yet, O my daughter !
That it was folly in me, thou may'st say,
Enter Lucius, Iachimo, the Soothsayer, and other
Roman Prisoners, guarded; Posthumus behind, and IMOGEN. Thou com’st not, Caius, now for tribute; that The Britons have raz'd out, though with the loss Of many a bold one; whose kinsmen have made
suit, That their good souls may be appeas'd with slaughter Of you their captives, which ourself have granted; So, think of your estate.
Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war : the day Was yours by accident; had it
gone We should not, when the blood was cool, have
threaten'd Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives May be callid ransome, let it come: sufficeth, A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer: Augustus lives to think on't : And so much For my peculiar care. This one thing only I will entreat; My boy, a Briton born, Let him be ransom'd: never master had A page so kind, so duteous, diligent, So tender over his occasions, true, So feat', so nurse-like: let his virtue join With my request, which, I'll make bold, your
highness Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm, Though he have serv'd a Roman: save him, sir, And spare no blood beside.
| Ready, dexterous.
I have surely seen him: His favour2 is familiar to me.Boy, thou hast look'd thyself into my grace, And art mine own. I know not why, nor wherefore, To say, live, boy: ne'er thank thy master; live: And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt, Fitting my bounty, and thy state, I'll give it ; Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner, The noblest ta'en. Imo.
I humbly thank your highness.
No, no: alack,
The boy disdains me,
What would'st thou, boy? I love thee more and more; think more and more What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st on?
speak, Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? thy friend ?
Imo. He is a Roman; no more kin to me, Than I to your highness; who, being born your
vassal, Am something nearer. Сут.
Wherefore ey'st him so ? Imo. I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please To give me hearing. Cym.
Ay, with all my heart, And lend my best attention. What's thy name?