1. J.
You shall not now be stoln, you have locks upon you;
So, graze, as you find pasture.

2. J.
Ay, or a stomach. [Exeunt Jailers.

Pos.
Most welcome, bondage! for thou art a way,
I think, to liberty: Yet am I better
Than one that's sick o'the gout; since he had rather
Groan so in perpetuity, than be cur'd
By the sure physician, death; who is the key
To unbar these † locks. My conscience! thou art fetter'd
More than my shanks, and wrists: You good gods, give me
The penitent instrument to pick that bolt,
Then, free for ever! Is't enough, I am sorry?
So children temporal fathers do appease;
Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent?
I cannot do it better than in gives, ^note
Desir'd, more than constrain'd: to satisfy,14Q1296
I d'off my ^note freedom, 'tis the main part; take
No stricter render of me, than my all.
I know, you are more clement than vile men,
Who of their broken debtors take a third,
A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again
On their abatement; that's not my desire:
For Imogen's dear life, take mine; and though
'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coin'd it:

'Tween man and man, they weigh not every stamp;
Though light, ^note take pieces for the figure's sake;
You rather mine, being yours: and so, great powers,
If you will take this audit, take this life,
And cancel these cold ^note † bonds. O Imogen!
I'll speak to thee in silence. [he sleeps. Solemn Musick. Enter, as in an Apparition, Sicillius Leonatus, Father to Posthumus, an old Man, attired like a Warrior; leading in his Hand an ancient Matron, his Wife, and Mother to Posthumus, with Musick before them: Then, after other Musick, follow the two young Leonati, Brothers to Posthumus, with Wounds as they dyed in the Wars: They circle Posthumus round, as he lyes sleeping.

&cast;Fath.
&cast;No more, thou thunder-master, shew
  &cast;thy spite on mortal flies:
&cast;With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,
  &cast;that thy adulteries
    &cast;Rates, and revenges.
&cast;Hath my poor boy done ought but well,
  &cast;whose face I never saw?
&cast;I dy'd, whilst in the womb he stay'd
  &cast;attending nature's law.
&cast;Whose father then (as men report,
  &cast;thou orphans' father art)
&cast;Thou should'st have been, and shielded him
  &cast;from this ^note earth-vexing smart.

&cast;Moth.
&cast;Lucina lent not me her aid,
  &cast;But ^note took me in my throws;

&cast;That from me was Posthumus ript,
  &cast;came crying 'mongst his foes,
    &cast;A thing of pity.

&cast;Fath.
&cast;Great nature, like his ancestry,
  &cast;molded the stuff so fair,
&cast;That he deserv'd the praise o'the world,
  &cast;as great Sicillius' heir.

&cast;1. B.
&cast;When once he was mature for man,
  &cast;in Britain where was he
&cast;That could stand up his parallel;
  &cast;or fruitful object14Q1297 be
&cast;In eye of Imogen, that best
  &cast;could deem his dignity?

&cast;Moth.
&cast;With marriage wherefore was he mock'd,
  &cast;to be exil'd, and thrown
&cast;From Leonati' seat; and cast
  &cast;from her his dearest one,
    &cast;Sweet Imogen?

&cast;Fath.
&cast;Why did you suffer Jachimo,
  &cast;slight thing of Italy,
&cast;To taint his nobler heart and brain
  &cast;with needless jealousy;
&cast;And to become the geck and scorn
  &cast;o' the other's villany?

&cast;2. B.
&cast;For this, from stiller seats we came,
  &cast;our parents, and us twain,
&cast;That, striking in our country's cause,

  &cast;fell bravely, and were slain;
&cast;Our fealty, and Tenantius' right,
  &cast;with honour to maintain.

&cast;1. B.
&cast;Like hardiment Posthumus hath
  &cast;to Cymbeline perform'd:
&cast;Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods,
  &cast;why hast thou thus adjourn'd
&cast;The graces for his merits ^note due;
  &cast;being all to dolours turn'd?

&cast;Fath.
&cast;Thy crystal window ope; look out;
  &cast;no longer exercise,
&cast;Upon a valiant race, thy harsh
  &cast;and potent injuries:

&cast;Moth.
&cast;Since, Jupiter, our son is good,
  &cast;take off his miseries.

&cast;Fath.
&cast;Peep through thy marble mansion; help;
  &cast;or we poor ghosts will cry
&cast;To the shining synod of the rest,
  &cast;against thy deity:

&cast;Brothers.
&cast;Help, Jupiter; or we appeal,
  &cast;and from thy justice fly. Jupiter descends in Thunder and Lightning, sitting upon his Eagle: He throws a Thunderbolt: the Ghosts fall on their Knees.

&cast;Jup.
&cast;No more, you petty spirits of region low,
  &cast;Offend our hearing; hush: How dare you ghosts
&cast;Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt, you know,

  &cast;Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts?
&cast;Poor shadows of Elysium, hence; and rest
  &cast;Upon your never-withering banks of flowers:
&cast;Be not with mortal accidents opprest;
  &cast;No care of yours it is; you know, 'tis ours.
&cast;Whom best I love, I cross; to make my gift,
  &cast;The more delay'd, delighted. Be content;
&cast;Your low-lay'd son our godhead will uplift;
  &cast;His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.
&cast;Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in
  &cast;Our temple was he marry'd:—Rise, and fade:—
&cast;He shall be lord of lady Imogen,
  &cast;And happier much by his affliction made.
&cast;This &dagger2; tablet lay upon his breast; wherein
  &cast;Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine;
&cast;And so, away: no farther with your din
  &cast;Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.—
  &cast;Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline. [Jupiter ascends.

&cast;Fath.
&cast;He came in thunder; his celestial breath
&cast;Was sulphurous to smell: the holy eagle
&cast;Stoop'd, as to foot us: his ascension is
&cast;More sweet than our blest fields: his royal bird
&cast;Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak,
&cast;As when his god is pleas'd.

&cast;all.
&cast;Thanks, Jupiter!

&cast;Fath.
&cast;The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd
&cast;His radiant roof:—Away; and, to be blest,
&cast;Let us with care perform his great behest. [Ghosts vanish.

Pos. [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' favour, dream as I have done;
Wake, and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve: [seeing the Tablet.
Many dream not to find, neither deserve,
And yet are steep'd in favours; 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 fangl'd world, a garment
Nobler than that it covers: let thy effects
So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers,
As good as promise. [reads]

When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, without seeking find, and be embrac'd by a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be lopt 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.