Whose father then, (as men report,
Thou orphans' father art,)

Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him
From this earth-vexing smart.
Moth. Lucina lent not me her aid,
But took me in my throes;
That from me was Posthumus ripped,
Came crying 'mongst his foes,
A thing of pity!

Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry,
Moulded the stuff so fair,

That he deserved the praise o' the world,
As great Sicilius' heir.

1 Bro. When once he was mature for man,
In Britain where was he

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 mocked,
To be exiled and thrown

From Leonati' seat, and cast

From her his dearest one,
Sweet Imogen?

Sici. Why did you suffer Iachimo,
Slight thing of Italy,

To taint his nobler heart and brain
With needless jealousy;

And to become the geck1 and scorn
O'the other's villany?

2 Bro. For this, from stiller seats we came,
Our parents, and us twain,
That, striking in our country's cause,

Fell bravely, and were slain;

Our fealty, and Tenantius' right,

With honor to maintain.

1 Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath

To Cymbeline performed.

Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods,
Why hast thou thus adjourned
The graces for his merits due;
Being all to dolors turned?

Sici. Thy crystal window ope; look out;
No longer exercise,

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,

JUPITER descends in thunder and lightning, sitting upon

an eagle he throws a thunderbolt.

on their knees.

The ghosts fall

Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region low,

Offend our hearing; hush! How dare you, ghosts, Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt, you know, Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts? Poor shadows of Elysium, hence; and rest Upon your never-withering banks of flowers. Be not with mortal accidents oppressed;

No care of yours it is, you know, 'tis ours.
Whom best I love, I cross; to make my gift,
The more delayed, delighted.' Be content;
Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift ;

His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.
Our Jovial star reigned 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.

1 Delighted for delightful, or causing delight.

This tablet lay upon his breast; wherein
Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine;
And so, away: no further with your din
Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.—
Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline.

[Ascends.
Sici. He came in thunder: his celestial breath
Was sulphurous to smell; the holy eagle
Stooped, as to foot us: his ascension is

More sweet than our blessed fields; his royal bird
Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak,
As when his god is pleased.

All.

Thanks, Jupiter! Sici. The marble pavement closes; he is entered His radiant roof.-Away! and, to be blessed,

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!)
Gone! they went hence so soon as they were born.
And so I am awake.-Poor wretches that depend
On greatness' favor, dream as I have done ;
Wake, and find nothing.-But, alas, I swerve.
Many dream not to find, neither deserve,
And yet are steeped in favors; so am I,

That have this golden chance, and know not why.
What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O rare

one!

Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment
Nobler than that it covers; let thy effects
So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers,
As a good promise.

1 i. e. to grasp us in his pounces.

"And till they foot and clutch their prey."-Herbert.

2 In ancient language, the cleys or clees of a bird or beast are the same with claws in modern speech. To claw their beaks, is an accustomed action with hawks and eagles.

3 i. e. trifling. Hence, new-fangled, still in use for new toys or trifles.

[Reads.] When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches, which, being dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace and plenty.

'Tis still a dream; or else such stuff as madmen
Tongue, and brain not; either both, or nothing;
Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such
As sense cannot untie. Be what it is,
The action of my life is like it, which
I'll keep, if but for sympathy.

Re-enter Jailers.

Jail. Come, sir, are you ready for death? Post. Over-roasted rather; ready long ago. Jail. Hanging is the word, sir; if you be ready for that, you are well cooked.

Post. So, if I prove a good repast to the spectators, the dish pays the shot.

Jail. A heavy reckoning for you, sir. But the comfort is, you shall be called to no more payments, fear no more tavern bills; which are often the sadness of parting, as the procuring of mirth. You come in faint for the want of meat, depart reeling with too much drink; sorry that you have paid too much, and sorry that you are paid too much; purse and brain both empty; the brain the heavier for being too light, the purse too light, being drawn of heaviness. O! of this contradiction you shall now be quit.-O the charity of a penny cord! it sums up thousands in a trice; you have no true debitor and creditor but it; of what's past, is, and to come, the discharge.-Your neck, sir, is pen, book, and counters; so the acquittance follows. Post. I am merrier to die, than thou art to live.

1 Paid here means subdued or overcome by the liquor.

Jail. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache. But a man that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he would change places with his officer; for, look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go.

Post. Yes, indeed, do I, fellow.

Jail. Your death has eyes in's head, then; I have not seen him so pictured. You must either be directed by some that take upon them to know; or take upon yourself that which I am sure you do not know; or jump the after-inquiry on your own peril; and how you shall speed in your journey's end, I think you'll never return to tell one.

Post. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to direct them the way I am going, but such as wink, and will not use them.

Jail. What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best use of eyes, to see the way of blindness! I am sure hanging's the way of winking.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to the king.

Post. Thou bringest good news ;-I am called to be made free.

Jail. I'll be hanged then.

Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a jailer; no bolts for the dead.

[Exeunt POSTHUMUS and Messenger. Jail. Unless a man would marry a gallows, and beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. 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 jailers and gallowses! I speak against my present profit; but my wish hath a preferment in't. [Exeunt.

1 i. e. hazard.

2 Prone here signifies ready, prompt.