Whose rags sham'd gilded arms, whose naked breast Stepp'd before targe 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 looks. Cym. No tidings of him? Pis. He hath been search'd among the dead and living, But no trace of him. Cym. To my grief, I am The heir of his reward; which I will add To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain, [TO BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS. By whom, I grant, she lives; 'Tis now the time To ask of whence you are: Bel. -report it. Sir, In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen: Cym. Bow your knees Arise, my knights o'the battle: I create you Enter CORNELIUS, and Ladies. Why so sadly Greet you our victory? you look like Romans, There's business in these faces: By medicine life may be prolong'd, yet death Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life; Cym. 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; Cym. She alone knew this: Proceed. And, but she spoke it dying, I would not Believe her lips in opening it. Cor. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love With such integrity, she did confess Was as a scorpion to her sight; whose life Ta'en off by poison. Cym. O most delicate fiend! Who is't can read a woman? Cor. More, sir, and worse. had Is there more? For you a mortal mineral; which, being took, But failing of her end by his strange absence, Cym. Heard you all this, her women? Lady. We did so, please your highness. Cym. Were not in fault, for she was beautiful; Mine eyes 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! And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all! Enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, the Soothsayer, and other Roman Prisoners, guarded; PoSTHUMUS, behind, and Imogen. Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute; that Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war: the day Was yours by accident; had it gone with us, We should not, when the blood was cool, have threaten'd Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods With my request, which, I'll make bold, your high ness Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm, Cym. 2 I have surely seen him : His favour is familiar to me. Boy, thou hast look'd thyself into my grace, fore, - To say, live, boy: ne'er thank thy master; live: Imo. I humbly thank your highness. Luc. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad; And yet, I know, thou wilt. Imo. Luc. The boy disdains me, He leaves me, scorns me: Briefly die their joys, That place them on the truth of girls and boys. Why stands he so perplex'd? Cym. 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? Than I to your highness; who, being born your vassal, Am something nearer. Cym. Wherefore ey'st him so? 2 Countenance. 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? Imo. Fidele, sir. Cym. Thou art my good youth, my page; I'll be thy master: Walk with me; speak freely. [CYMBELINE and IMOGEN converse apart. Bel. Is not this boy reviv'd from death? Arv. One sand another Not more resembles: That sweet rosy lad, Who died, and was Fidele: - What think you? Gui. The same dead thing alive. Bel. Peace, peace! see further; he eyes us not; forbear; Creatures may be alike: were't he, I am sure Gui. But we saw him dead. It is my mistress: Bel. Be silent; let's see further. Pis. Since she is living, let the time run on, To good, or bad. Cym. [Aside. [CYMBELINE and IMOGEN come forward. Come, stand thou by our side; Make thy demand aloud. Sir, [To IACH.] step you forth; Give answer to this boy, and do it freely; him. Imo. My boon is, that this gentleman may render Of whom he had this ring. Post. What's that to him? [Aside. Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say, How came it yours? VOL. IX. |