Abbildungen der Seite

And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brothers, me, her master ; hitting
Each object with a joy. The counter-change
Is sev'rally in all. Let's quit this ground,
And smoak the temple with our sacrifices.
Thou art my brother, so we'll hold thee ever. (To Bellarius,

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

Cym. All o'er-joy'd,
Save these in bonds: let them be joyful too,
For they shall taste our comfort.

Imo. My good master,
I will yet do you service.

Luc. Happy be you !

Cym. The forlorn soldier that so nobly fought,
He would have well becom'd this place, and grae'd
The thinkings of a King.

Poft. 'Tis 1 am, Sir,
The foldier that did company these three
In poor beseeming : 'twas a fitment for
The purpose I then follow’d. That I was he,
Speak, lacbimo, I had you down, and might
Haye made your finish.
lach. I am down again :

But now my heavy conscience finks my knee,
As then your force did. Take that lifes 'beseech you,
Which I so often owe: but your ring first,
And here your bracelet of the truest Princess
That ever swore her faith.

Pof. Kneel not to me:
The power that I have on you, is to spare you:

The malice tow'rds you, to forgive you. Live,
And deal with others better.

Cym. Nobly doom'd :
We'll learn our freeness of a fon-in-law;
Pardon's the word to all.

Arv. You help?d'us, Sir,
As you did mean indeed to be our brother;
Joy'd are we, that you are.

[ocr errors]

Poft. Your servant, Princes. *
Cym. By peace we will begin : and, Caius Lucius,
Although the victor, we submit to Cæfar,
And to the Roman Empire; promising
To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
We were diffuaded by our wicked Queen,

....Paft. Your servant, Princes.
Good my Lord of Rome,
Call forth your Sooth Sayer: as I slept, methought
Great Jupiter upon his Eagle back'd
Appear'd to me with other sprightly thews
Of mine own kindred. When I wak’d, I found
This label on iny bosom; whose containing
Is fo from fense in hardness, that I can
Make no collcetion of it. Let him hew
His skill in the construction.

Luc. Philarmonus !
Sooth. Here, my good Lord.
Luc. Read, and declare the meaning.

[Reads.] When as a lion's wela Mall, to himself unknown, without seeking find, and be embrac'd by a piece of tender air; and when from a frately cedar Mall be lopt branches, which being dead many years, Shall after revive, be jointed so the old stock, and freshly grow, then Shall Poithumus and his miferiės, Britain be fortunate, and flowerije in peace and plenty. Thou, Leonatms, art the lion's whelp; The fit and apt construction of thy name Being Leonatus, doth import so much :

The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter, [To Cymbelinc,
Which we call Mollis Aer, and Mollis Aer
We term it Mulier : which Mulier I divine
Is this inolt conttant wife,, who even now
Answering the letter of the oracle,
Unknown to you, unfought, were clipe about
With this moft tendet air,

Cym. This hath some sceming.

Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
Personates thee; and thy lopt branches point
Thy two sons forth : who by Bellarius stol'n,
For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd,
To the inajestick cedar join'd; whose ifjue
Promises Britain peace and plenty.
Gym. By peace we will begin i és


On whom heav’n’s justice (both on her, and hers)
Hath laid moft heavy hand.

Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do tune
The harmony of this peace : the vifion
Which I made known to Lucius ere the stroke
Of this yet scarce-cold battel, at this instant
Is full accomplish'd. For the Roman eagle
From south to west on wing foaring aloft
Leffen'd herself, and in the beams o'th' sun
So vanish'd; which fore-fhew'd our princely eagle,
Th’imperial Cæfar, should again unite,
His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
Which shines here in the west.

Cym, Laud we the Gods !
And let the crooked smoaks climb to their nostrils
From our bleft altars ! Publish we this peace
To all our subjects. Šet we forward: let
A Roman and a British ensign wave
Friendly together ; fo through Lud's town march,
And in the temple of great Jupiter
Our peace we'll ratific. Seal it with feasts.
Set on there : Never was a war did cease,
Ere bloody, hands were walh’d, with such a peace.

[Exeunt omnes,

The End of the EIGHTH VOLUME.

[ocr errors]
« ZurückWeiter »