I am, sir,

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: 421
We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law;
Pardon's the word to all.
Arv.
You holp us, sir,
As you did mean indeed to be our brother; 424
Joy'd are we that you are.

Post. Your servant, princes. Good my lord of
Rome,

Call forth your soothsayer. As I slept, methought

428

Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back'd,
Appear'd to me, with other spritely shows
Of mine own kindred: when I wak'd, I found
This label on my bosom; whose containing
Is so from sense in hardness that I can
Make no collection of it; let him show
His skill in the construction.
Luc.

Sooth. Here, my good lord.

Luc.

Philarmonus!

432

Read, and declare the meaning.

self unknown, without seeking find, and be emSooth. Whenas a lion's whelp shall, to himbraced 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. Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp; The fit and apt construction of thy name, Being Leo-natus, doth import so much. [To CYMBELINE.] The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,

444

448

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, Iachimo; I had you down and might 412
Have made you finish.

Iach. [Kneeling.] I am down again; But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee, As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you,

Which I so often owe, but your ring first,
And here the bracelet of the truest princess
That ever swore her faith.
Post.

Kneel not to me:

416

452

This hath some seeming. Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline, Personates thee, and thy lopp'd branches point Thy two sons forth; who, by Belarius stolen, 456 For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd, To the majestic cedar join'd, whose issue Promises Britain peace and plenty. Cym.

Well;

My peace we will begin. And, Caius Lucius, 460
Although the victor, we submit to Cæsar,
And to the Roman empire; promising

To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
We were dissuaded by our wicked queen;

464

Cym.

Laud we the gods; And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils

From our bless'd altars. Publish we this

To sing a song that old was sung,
From ashes ancient Gower is come,
Assuming man's infirmities,

To glad your ear, and please your eyes.
It hath been sung at festivals,
On ember-eves, and holy-ales;

And lords and ladies in their lives
Have read it for restoratives:

The purchase is to make men glorious;
Et bonum quo antiquius, eo melius.
If you, born in these latter times,

8

When wit's more ripe, accept my rimes, 12
And that to hear an old man sing
May to your wishes pleasure bring,
I life would wish, and that I might
Waste it for you like taper-light.

This Antioch, then, Antiochus the Great
Built up, this city, for his chiefest seat,
The fairest in all Syria,

I tell you what mine authors say:

This king unto him took a fere,
Who died and left a female heir,
So buxom, blithe, and full of face
As heaven had lent her all his grace;
With whom the father liking took,
And her to incest did provoke.

16

20

24

Bad child, worse father! to entice his own To evil should be done by none.

28

By custom what they did begin

Was with long use account no sin.
The beauty of this sinful dame
Made many princes thither frame,
To seek her as a bed-fellow,

In marriage-pleasures play-fellow:
Which to prevent, he made a law,
To keep her still, and men in awe,
That whoso ask'd her for his wife,
His riddle told not, lost his life:
So for her many a wight did die,
As yon grim looks do testify.

32

36

40

What now ensues, to the judgment of your eye

I give, my cause who best can justify. [Exit.

You gods, that made me man, and sway in love,
That hath inflam'd desire in my breast
To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree
Or die in the adventure, be my helps,
As I am son and servant to your will,
To compass such a boundless happiness!
Ant. Prince Pericles,-

24

Per. That would be son to great Antiochus.
Ant. Before thee stands this fair Hesperides,
With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touch'd;
For death-like dragons here affright thee hard:
Her face, like heaven, enticeth thee to view
Her countless glory, which desert must gain;
And which, without desert, because thine eye 32
Presumes to reach, all thy whole heap must die.
Yon sometime famous princes, like thyself,
Drawn by report, adventurous by desire,
Tell thee with speechless tongues and semblance
pale,
36

That without covering, save yon field of stars,
They here stand martyrs, slain in Cupid's wars;
And with dead cheeks advise thee to desist
For going on death's net, whom none resist. 40
Per. Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath
taught

44

My frail mortality to know itself,
And by those fearful objects to prepare
This body, like to them, to what I must;
For death remember'd should be like a mirror,
Who tells us life's but breath, to trust it error.
I'll make my will then; and as sick men do,
Who know the world, see heaven, but feeling
woe,

48

68

On mother's flesh which did me breed;
I sought a husband, in which labour
I found that kindness in a father.
He's father, son, and husband mild,
I mother, wife, and yet his child.
How they may be, and yet in two,
As you will live, resolve it you.
Sharp physic is the last: but, O you powers! 72
That give heaven countless eyes to view men's
acts,

Why cloud they not their sights perpetually,
If this be true, which makes me pale to read it?
Fair glass of light, I lov'd you, and could still,
Were not this glorious casket stor'd with ill: 77
But I must tell you now my thoughts revolt;
For he's no man on whom perfections wait
That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate.
You're a fair viol, and your sense the strings,
Who, finger'd to make men his lawful music,
Would draw heaven down and all the gods to
hearken;

But being play'd upon before your time,
Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime.
Good sooth, I care not for you.

84

Ant. Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life,

For that's an article within our law,

88

As dangerous as the rest. Your time's expir'd: Either expound now or receive your sentence.

Per. Great king,

92

Few love to hear the sins they love to act;
'Twould braid yourself too near for me to tell it.
Who has a book of all that monarchs do,
He's more secure to keep it shut than shown;
For vice repeated is like the wandering wind, 96
Blows dust in others' eyes, to spread itself;
And yet the end of all is bought thus dear,
The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear
To stop the air would hurt them. The blind
mole casts

100

Copp'd hills towards heaven, to tell the earth is throng'd

By man's oppression; and the poor worm doth die for 't.

Kings are earth's gods; in vice their law's their

will;