« AnteriorContinuar »
He would have well becom'd this place, and grac'd
Post. I am, sir,
Post. Kneel not to me;
Cym. Nobly doom'd :
Arv. You holp us, sir,
did mean indeed to be our brother ; Joy'd are we, that you are. Post. Your servant, princes.—Good my lord of
Make no collection of it; let him show
Sooth. [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.
Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp ;
Cym. This hath some meaning.
Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline, Personates thee: and thy lopp'd branches point Thy two sons forth; who, by Belarius stolen, For many years thought dead, are now revivid, To the majestic cedar join’d; whose issue Promises Britain peace and plenty.
Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do tune
Cym. Laud we the gods;