His only child. He had two sons (if this be worth your hearing, years old, 2 Gent. How long is this ago? 1 Gent. Some twenty years. 2 Gent. That a king's children should be so con- So slackly guarded! And the search so slow, 1 Gent. Howsoe'er 'tis strange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at, 2 Gent. I do well believe you. 1 Gent. We must forbear: Here comes the queen and princess. SCENE II. The same. [Exeunt. Enter the Queen, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN. Queen. No, be assur'd, you shall not find me, daughter, After the slander of most step-mothers, Evil-eyed unto you: you are my prisoner, but That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus, I will be known your advocate: marry, yet Post. I will from hence to-day. Please your highness, You know the peril:I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying The pangs of barr'd affections: though the king Hath charg'd you should not speak together. Imo. [Exit Queen. Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant I something fear my father's wrath; but nothing Post. Than doth become a man! I will remain The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth. Queen. Re-enter Queen. Be brief, I pray you: If the king come, I shall incur I know not How much of his displeasure:-Yet I'll move him [Aside, 1 < I say I do not fear my father, so far as I may say it without breach of duty.' To walk this way: I never do him wrong, Post. [Exit. Should we be taking leave As long a term as yet we have to live, The loathness to depart would grow: Adieu! Were you but riding forth to air yourself, Such parting were too petty. Look here, love; When Imogen is dead. Post. How! how! another?You gentle gods, give me but this I have, And sear up3 my embracements from a next With bonds of death!-Remain, remain thou here [Putting on the Ring. While sense 4 can keep it on! And sweetest, fairest, As I my poor self did exchange for you, To your so infinite loss; so, in our trifles I still win of you: For my sake, wear this; It is a manacle of love; I'll place it Upon this fairest prisoner. [Putting a Bracelet on her Arm. 2 He gives me a valuable consideration in new kindness (purchasing, as it were, the wrong I have done him), in order to renew our amity, and make us friends again.' 3 Shakspeare poetically calls the cere-cloths, in which the dead are wrapped, the bonds of death. There was no distinction in ancient orthography between seare, to dry, to wither; and seare, to dress or cover with wax. Cere-cloth is most frequently spelled seare-cloth. In Hamlet we have : Why, thy canonized bones hearsed in death Have burst their cerements.' 4 i. e. while I have sensation to retain it. There can be no doubt that it refers to the ring, and it is equally obvious that thee would have been more proper. Whether this error is to be laid to the poet's charge or to that of careless printing, it would not be easy to decide. Malone, however, has shown that there are many passages in these plays of equally loose construction. Imo. O, the gods! When shall we see again? Post. Enter CYMBELINE and Lords. Alack, the king! Cym. Thou basest thing, avoid! hence, from my If, after this command, thou fraught the court Post. I am gone. [Exit. There cannot be a pinch in death More sharp than this is. Cym. O disloyal thing, That should'st repair 5 my youth; thou heapest Imo. I beseech you, sir, Harm not yourself with your vexation: I 5 i. e. renovate my youth, make me young again. To repaire (according to Baret) is to restore to the first state, to renew.' So in All's Well that Ends Well: it much repairs me To talk of your good father.' 6 Sir Thomas Hanmer reads: thou heapest many A year's age on me!' Some such emendation seems necessary. 7' A touch more rare' is a more exquisite feeling, a superior sensation.' So in The Tempest: 'Hast thou which art but air, a touch, a feeling And in Antony and Cleopatra : The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches, A passage in King Lear will illustrate Imogen's meaning: where the greater malady is fix'd, The lesser is scarce felt.' Сут. Past grace? obedience? Imo. Past hope, and in despair; that way, past grace. Cym. That might'st have had the sole son of my queen! Imo. O bless'd, that I might not! I chose an eagle, And did avoid a puttock3. Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; would'st have made my throne It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus: Cym. What!-art thou mad? Imo. Almost, sir: Heaven restore me !-'Would I were A neat-herd's daughter! and my Leonatus Сут. Re-enter Queen. They were again together: you have done Thou foolish thing!— [To the Queen. 'Beseech your patience :-Peace, Not after our command. Away with her, Queen. Dear lady daughter, peace; Sweet sovereign, 8 A puttock is a mean degenerate species of hawk, too worthless to deserve training. |