Cym. The forlorn soldier, that so nobly fought, He would have well becomed this place, and graced The thankings of a king. I am, sir, Post. The purpose I then follow'd:-That I was he, Iach. I am down again, (Kneeling.) But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee, And here the bracelet of the truest princess, Post. Kneel not to me; The power that I have on you, is to spare you; Cym. Nobly doom'd; 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; Joy'd are we, that you are. Post. Your servant, princes.-Good my lord of Rome, Call forth your soothsayer: As I slept, methought, Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back'd, Appear'd to me, with other sprightly shows Of mine own kindred: when I waked, I found Luc. Philarmonus, Sooth. Here, my good lord. Luc. Read, and declare the meaning. 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 celar shall be lopped branches, which being dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow: then shall Posthumus eni his miseries, Britain he 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: Which we call mollis aer ; and mollis aer Cym. Unknown to you, unsought, were clipp'd about Cym. To pay our wonted tribute, from the which Whom Heavens, in justice, (both on her and hers,) Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do tune The vision His favour with the radiant Cymbeline, Cym. Laud we the gods; And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils A Roman and a British ensign wave Friendly together: so through Lud's town march; Our peace we'll ratify; seal it with feasts.- Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with such a peace. [Exeunt. |