Page images
PDF
EPUB

Guid. Let me end his story: 'Twas I that slew him.

Cym. Marry, the gods forefend!
I would not thy good deeds should from my lips
Pluck a hard sentence: 'pr’ythee, valiant youth,
Deny't again.

Guid. I have spoke it, and I did it.
Cym. He was a prince.

Guid. A most uncivil one: the wrongs he did me
Were nothing prince-like; for he did provoke me
With language that would make me spurn the sea,
If it could so roar to me: I cut off's head;
And am right glad, he is not standing here
To tell this tale of mine.

Cym. I am sorry for thee:
By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and must
Endure our law. Bind the offender,
And take him from our presence. [GUARDS advance.

Bel. Stay, sir king :
This man is better than the man he slew,
As well descended as thyself; and hath
More of thee merited, than a band of Clotens
Had ever scar for.-Let his arms alone;

[To the GUARDS. They were not born for bondage.

Cym. Why, old soldier,
Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for,
By tasting of our wrath? How of descent
As good as we?
Bel. I am too blunt, and

knee:
Mighty sir,
These two young gentlemen, that call me father,
And think they are my sons, are none of mine;
They are the issue of your loins, my liege,
And blood of your begetting.
POSTHUMUS, IMOGEN, and PISANIO, come forward.

Cym. How ! my issue?

saucy : Here's

my

Bel. So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan,
Am that Belarius whom you some time banish’d:
Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punishment
Itself, and all my treason ; that I suffer'd,
Was all the harm I did These gentle princes
(For such, and so they are,) these twenty years
Have I train'd up: those arts they have, as I
Could put into them.-But, gracious sir,
Here are your sons again ; and I must lose
Two of the sweet'st companions in the world :-
The benediction of these covering heavens
Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy
To inlay heaven with stars.

Cym. Thou weep'st, and speak'st.
I lost my children;
If these be they, I know not how to wish
A pair of worthier sons Guiderius had
Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star;
It was a mark of wonder.

Bel. This is he;
Who hath

upon

him still that natural stamp:
It was wise Nature's end in the donation,
To be his evidence now.

Cym. Bless'd may you be,
That, after this strange starting from your orbs,
You may reign in them now !--Oh, Imogen,
Thou hast lost by this a kingdom.

Imog. No, my lord;
I have got two worlds by't.-Oh, my gentle brothers,
Have we thus met? Oh, never say hereafter,
But I am truest speaker: you calld me brother,
When I was but your sister; I you brothers,
When

you were so indeed.
Cym. Did you e'er meet?-
Arv. Ay, my good lord.
Guid. And at first meeting loved,
Cym. Oh, rare instinct !

When shall I hear all through !-How lived you?

where?
And when came you to serve our Roman captive ?
How parted with your brothers? how first met them?
Why fed

you from the court? and whither ?
But nor the time, nor place,
Will serve our long interrogatories.-See,
Posthumụs anchors upon Imogen;
And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him.-All o'erjoy'd,
Save these in bonds; let them be joyful too,
For they shall taste our comfort.

[GUARDS take off their Chains.
The forlorn soldier, that so nobly fought,
He would have well becomed this place, and graced
The thankings of a king.

Post. I am, sir,
The soldier that did company these three
In poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for
The
purpose I then follow'd

- That I was he, Speak, lachimo; I had you down, and might Have made

you

finish.
Iach. I am down again :

[Kneels. But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee, As then

your

force did.
But, your ring first ;
And here the bracelet of the truest princess,
That ever swore her faith:
Now take that life, 'beseech

you, Which I so often owe.

Post. Kneel not to me : The power

that I have on you is to spare you; The malice towards you, to forgive you :-Live, And deal with others better,

Cym. Nobly doom'd: We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law; Pardon's the word to all.-Laud we the gods ; And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils

[ocr errors]

From our bless'd altars !-Set we forward : Let
A Roman and a British ensign wave
Friendly together: so through Lud's town march :
Set on there :--Never was a war did cease,
Ere bloody hands were wash’d, with such a peace.

[Exeunt omnes.--Drums and Trumpets.

END.

A TRAGEDY,

IN FIVE ACTS ;

BY WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE

AS PERFORMED AT TIE THEATRES ROYAL,

DRURY LANE AND COVENT GARDEN.

PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS

FROM THE PROMPT BOOK.

WITH REMARKS

BY MRS INCHBALD.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN,

PATERNOSTER-ROW,

« PreviousContinue »