Cym. My tears, that fall,

Prove holy-water on thee! Imogen,
Thy mother's dead.

Imo. I'm forry for't, my lord.

Cym. Oh, fhe was naught; and long of her it was, That we meet here fo ftrangely; but her fon

Is gone, we know not how, nor where.

Pif. My lord,

Now fear is from me, I'll fpeak truth. Lord Clotén, Upon my lady's miffing, came to me

With his fword drawn, foam'd at the mouth, and fwore,

If I difcoyer'd not which way fhe went,
It was my inftant death. By accident
I had a feigned letter of my master's
Then in my pocket; which directed her
To feek him on the mountains near to Milford:
Where, in a frenzy, in my mafter's

garments, Which he inforc'd from me, away he posts

With unchafte purpose, and with oath to violate
My lady's honour: What became of him,
I further know not.

Guid. Let me end the ftory;

I flew him there.

Cym. Marry, the Gods forefend!

I would not, thy good deeds fhould from my lips
Pluck a hard fentence: pr'y thee, valiant youth,
Deny't again.

Guid. I've spoke it, and I did it.

Cym. He was a Prince.

Guid. A moft incivil one. The wrongs he did me, Were nothing prince-like; for he did provoke me With language that would make me fpurn the fea, Could it fo 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'm forry for thee;

By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and must

Endure our law: thou'rt dead.

Imo. That headless man

I thought had been my lord.

Cym. Bind the offender,
And take him from our prefence.

Bel. Stay, Sir King,

This man is better than the man he flew,
As well defcended as thyfelf; and hath

More of thee merited, than a band of Clotens
Had ever scar for.Let his arms alone;

They were not born for bondage.

Cym. Why, old Soldier,

[To the Guard.

Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for,

4

* By hafting of our wrath? how of descent

As good as we?

Arv. In that he fpake too far.
Cym. And thou fhalt die for't.
Bel. We will die all three,

But I will prove, that two on's are as good
As I've giv'n out of him. My sons, I must,'
For my own part, unfold a dangerous fpeech,
Though, haply, well for you.

Arv. Your danger's ours.

Guid. And our good, his.

Bel. Have at it then, by leave:

Thou had'ft, great King, a fubject, who was call'd

Belarius.

Cym. What of him? a banish'd traitor.

Bel. He it is, that hath

4 By TASTING of our wrath?

] But how did Belarius

undo or forfeit his merit by tafting or feeling the King's wrath? We should read,

By HASTING of our wrath?

i.e. by haftening, provoking; and as fuch a provocation is undu tiful, the demerit, confequently, undoes or makes void his former worth, and all pretenfions to reward.

A a 2

Affum'd

Affum'd this age; indeed, a banish'd man;
I know not how, a traitor.

Cym. Take him hence,

The whole world fhall not fave him.
Bel. Not too hot :

First, pay me for the nurfing of thy fons;
And let it be confifcate all, fo foon

As I've receiv'd it.

Cym. Nurfing of my fons?

Bel. I am too blunt, and faucy; here's my Ere I arife, I will prefer my fons,

Then fpare not the old father.

Mighty Sir,

knee:

These two young gentlemen, that call me father,
And think they are my fons, are none of mine;
They are the iffue of your loins, my liege,
And blood of your begetting.

Cym. How? my iffue?

Bel. So fure, as you, your father's: I, old Morgan,
Am that Belarius whom you fometime banish'd;
Your pleasure was my near offence, my punishment
Itself, and all my treafon: That I fuffer'd,
Was all the harm I did. Thefe gentle Princes
(For fuch and fo they are,) these twenty years
Have I train'd up; fuch arts they have, as I
Could put into them. Sir, my breeding was,
As your Grace knows. Their nurfe Euriphile,
Whom for the theft I wedded, ftole these children
Upon my banishment: I mov'd her to't;
Having receiv'd the punishment before,
For That which I did then. Beaten for loyalty,
Excited me to treafon. Their dear lofs,

The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shap'd
Unto my end of stealing them. But, Sir,
Here are your fons again; and I must lose
Two of the sweet'ft companions in the world.
The benediction of thefe covering heav'ns
Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy

Το

To in-lay heav'n with ftars.

Cym. Thou weep'ft, and fpeak'ft:

The fervice, that you three have done, is more
Unlike, than this thou tell'ft. I lost

my children-
If these be they, I know not how to wish
A pair of worthier fons.

Bel. Be pleas'd a while

This gentleman, whom I call Paladour,
Moft worthy Prince, as yours, is true Guiderius:
This gentleman, my Cadwall, Arviragus,

Your younger princely fon; he, Sir, was lapt
In a most curious mantle, wrought by th' hand
Of his Queen-mother, which, for more probation,
I can with cafe produce.

Cym. Guiderius had

Upon his neck a mole, a fanguine ftar;
It was a mark of wonder.

Bel. This is he;

Who hath upon him ftill that natʼral stamp:
It was wife Nature's end, in the donation,
To be his evidence now.

Cym. Oh, what am I

A mother to the birth of three! ne'er mother
Rejoic'd deliverance more; bleft may you be,
That, after this strange starting from your orbs,
You may reign in them now! oh Imogen,
Thou'ft loft by this a kingdom.

Imo. No, my lord:

I've got two worlds by't. Oh, my gentle brothers,
Have we thus met? oh, never fay hereafter,
But I am trueft fpeaker. You call'd me brother,
When I was but your fifter: I, you brothers;
When ye were so, indeed.

5 To in-lay heav'n with ftars.] The thought is in character, and finely expreffed: It alludes to the cuftom of deifying heroic men, and converting them into stars.

Cym. Did you e'er meet?

Arv. Ay, my good lord.

Guid. And at firft meeting lov'd;
Continued fo, until we thought he died.

Cor. By the Queen's dram fhe fwallow'd.
Cym. O rare instinct!

When fhall I hear all through? this fierce abridgment
Hath to it circumftantial branches, which

Diftinction should be rich in.-Where? how liv'd you? And when came you to ferve our Roman captive? How parted with your brothers? how firft met them? Why fled you from the court? and whither?-Thefe, And your three motives to the battle, with

I know not how much more, fhould be demanded;
And all the other by-dependances

From chance to chance: but not the time, nor place,
Will ferve long interrogatories. See,
Pofthumus anchors upon Imogen;

And fhe, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brothers, me, her mafter; hitting
Each object with a joy. The counter-change
Is fev'rally in all. Let's quit this ground,
And fmoak the temple with our facrifices.
Thou art my brother; fo we'll hold thee ever.

[To Belarius. Imo. You are my father too, and did relieve me, To fee this gracious feafon!

Cym. All o'er-joy'd,

Save these in bonds: let them be joyful too,

For they shall tafte our comfort.

Imo. My good master,

I will yet do you fervice.

Luc. Happy be you!

Cym. The forlorn foldier, that fo nobly fought, He would have well become this place, and grac'd The thankings of a King.

Poft. 'Tis I am, Sir,

The