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Think, that you are upon a rock; and now
Throw me again.

[Embracing him. Post.

Hang there like fruit, my soul, Till the tree die! Сут.

How now, my flesh, my child? What, mak'st thou me a dullard in this act? Wilt thou not speak to me? Imo.

Your blessing, sir.

[Kneeling. Bel. Though you did love this youth, I blame ye

not; You had a motive for't. (To Guid. and Arvi. Cym.

My tears that fall,
Prove holy water on thee! Imogen,
Thy mother's dead.
Imo.

I am sorry for’t, my lord.
Cym. O, she was naught; and 'long of her it was,
That we meet here so strangely: But her son
Is gone, we kyow not how, nor where.
Pis.

My lord,
Now fear is from me, I'll speak trotlı. Lord Cloten,
Upon my lady's missing, came to me
With his sword drawu ; foam'd at the mouth, and

swore,
If I discover'd not which way she was gone,
It was my instant death: By accident,
I had a feigned letter of my master's
Then in my pocket; which directed him
To seek her on the mountains near to Milford;
Where, in a frenzy, in my master's garments,
Which he inforc'd from me, away he posts
With unchaste purpose, and with oath to violate
My lady's hononr: what became of him,
I further know not.
Gui.

Let me end the story:
I slew him there.
Сут. .

Marry, the gods forfend!

• Forbid.

I would not thy good deeds should from my lips
Pluck a hard senteuce: pr’ythee, valiant youth,
Deny't again.
Gui.

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

Gui. 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 roar so to me: I cut off's head; And am right glad, he is not standing here To tell this tale of mine. Сут.

I am sorry for thee : By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and must Endure our law: Thou art dead. Imo.

That headless man I thought had been my lord. Cym.

Bind the offender, And take him from our presence. 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 Guard. They were not born for bondage. Сут. .

Why, old soldier,
Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for,
By tasting of our wrath? How of descent
As good as we?
Aro.

In that he spake too far.
Cym. And thou shalt die fort.
Bel.

We will die all three :
But I will prove, that two of us are as good
As I have given out him.-My sons, I must,
For mine own part, unfold a dangerous speech,
Though, haply, well for you.
Aro.

Your danger is
Ours.

Gui. And our good his.
Bel.

Have at it then.

By leave;-Thou hadst, great king, a subject, who
Was call'd Belarius.
Cym.

What of him? he is
A banish'd traitor.
Bel.

He it is, that hath
Assum'd this age: indeed, a banish'd man;
I know not how, a traitor.
Сут. .

Take him hence;
The whole world shall not save him.
Bel.

Not too hot:
First pay me for the nursing of thy sons;
And let it be confiscate all, so soon
As I have receiv'd it.
Cym.

Nursing of my sons ? Bel. I am too blunt, and saucy : Here's my knee; Ere I arise, I will prefer my sons; Then, spare not the old father. 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. Сут. .

How! my issue? Bel. So sore as you your father's. I, old Morgan, Am that belarius whom you sometime 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; my breeding was, sir, as Your bighness knows. Their nurse, Euriphile, Whom for the theft I wedded, stole 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 treason : Their dear loss, The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shap'd Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir, Here are your sons again; and I must lose Two of the sweet'st companions in the world :

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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.
The service that you three have done, is more
Unlike than this thou tell'st: I lost my children ;
If these be they, I know not how to wish
A pair of worthier sons.
Bcl.

Be pleas'd a while.-
This gentleman, whom I call Polydore,
Most worthy prince, as yours, is true Guiderius;
This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arvirágus,
Your younger princely son; he, sir, was lapp'd
In a most curious mantle, wrought by the hand
of his queen mother, which, for more probation,
I can with ease produce.
Cym.

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 oậtural stamp:
It was wise nature's end in the donation,
To be his evidence now.
Cym.

o, what am I
A mother to the birth of three? Ne'er mother
Rejoic'd deliverance more:-Bless'd may you be,
That, after this strange starting from your orbs,
You may reign in them now!-O Imogen,
Thou hast lost by this a kingdom.
Imo.

No, my lord;
I have got two worlds by't.Omy gentle brother,
Have we thus met? O never say hereafter,
But I am truest speaker: you call'd me brother,
When I was but your sister; I you brothers,
When you were so indeed.
Сут. .

Did you e'er meet?
Aru. Ay, my good lord.
Gui.

And at first meeting lov'd;
Continued so, until we thought he died.

Cor. By the queen's dram she swallow'd.

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Cym.

O rare instinct! When shall I hear all through ? This fierce* abridge.

ment Hath to it circumstantial branches, which Distinction should be rich int.Where? how liv'd

you? 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? These, And your three motives to the battle, with I know not how much more, sloald be demanded ; And all the other by-dependencies, From chance to chance; but nor the time, nor place, Will serve our long intergatories. See, Posthumus anchors upon Imogen; And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye On him, her brothers, me, her master ; hitting Each object with a joy; the counterchange Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground, And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.Thou art my brother; So we'll hold thee ever.

[To Belarius.
Imo. You are my father too; and did relieve me,
To see this gracious season.
Сут. .

All o'erjoy'd,
Save these in bonds; let them be joyful too,
For they shall taste our comfort.
Imo.

My good master,
I will get do you service.
Luc.

Happy be you!
Cym. The forlorn soldier that so nobly fought,
He would have well becom'd this place, and grac'd
The thankings of a king.
Post.

I am, sir,
The soldier that did company these three
In poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for

Vehement, rapid. + i. e. Which ought to be rendered distinct by an ample narrative.

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