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battle； I create you Companions to our person； and will fit you With
dignities becoming your estates。
Enter CORNELIUS and LADIES
There's business in these faces。 Why so sadly Greet you our victory？
You look like Romans； And not o' th' court of Britain。 CORNELIUS。 Hail；
great King！ To sour your happiness I must report The Queen is dead。
CYMBELINE。 Who worse than a physician Would this report become？
But I consider By med'cine life may be prolong'd； yet death Will seize the
doctor too。 How ended she？ CORNELIUS。 With horror； madly dying； like
her life； Which； being cruel to the world； concluded Most cruel to herself。
What she confess'd I will report； so please you； these her women Can trip
me if I err； who with wet cheeks Were present when she finish'd。
CYMBELINE。 Prithee say。 CORNELIUS。 First； she confess'd she never
lov'd you； only Affected greatness got by you； not you； Married your
royalty； was wife to your place； Abhorr'd your person。 CYMBELINE。 She
alone knew this； And but she spoke it dying； I would not Believe her lips
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in opening it。 Proceed。 CORNELIUS。 Your daughter； whom she bore in
hand to love With such integrity； she did confess Was as a scorpion to her
sight； whose life； But that her flight prevented it； she had Ta'en off by
poison。 CYMBELINE。 O most delicate fiend！ Who is't can read a woman？
Is there more？ CORNELIUS。 More； sir； and worse。 She did confess she
had For you a mortal mineral； which； being took； Should by the minute
feed on life； and ling'ring； By inches waste you。 In which time she
purpos'd； By watching； weeping； tendance； kissing； to O'ercome you with
her show； and in time； When she had fitted you with her craft； to work Her
son into th' adoption of the crown； But failing of her end by his strange
absence； Grew shameless…desperate； open'd； in despite Of heaven and men；
her purposes； repented The evils she hatch'd were not effected； so；
Despairing； died。 CYMBELINE。 Heard you all this； her women？ LADY。
We did； so please your Highness。 CYMBELINE。 Mine eyes Were not in
fault； for she was beautiful； Mine ears； that heard her flattery； nor my heart
That thought her like her seeming。 It had been vicious To have mistrusted
her； yet； O my daughter！ That it was folly in me thou mayst say； And
prove it in thy feeling。 Heaven mend all！
Enter LUCIUS； IACHIMO； the SOOTHSAYER； and other Roman
prisoners； guarded； POSTHUMUS behind； and IMOGEN
Thou com'st not； Caius； now for tribute； that The Britons have raz'd
out； though with the loss Of many a bold one； whose kinsmen have made
suit That their good souls may be appeas'd with slaughter Of you their
captives； which ourself have granted； So think of your estate。 LUCIUS。
Consider； sir； the chance of war。 The day Was yours by accident； had it
gone with us； We should not； when the blood was cool； have threaten'd
Our prisoners with the sword。 But since the gods Will have it thus； that
nothing but our lives May be call'd ransom； let it come。 Sufficeth A
Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer。 Augustus lives to think on't； and
so much For my peculiar care。 This one thing only I will entreat： my boy； a
Briton born； Let him be ransom'd。 Never master had A page so kind； so
duteous； diligent； So tender over his occasions； true； So feat； so nurse…like；
let his virtue join With my request； which I'll make bold your Highness
Cannot deny； he hath done no Briton harm Though he have serv'd a
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Roman。 Save him； sir； And spare no blood beside。 CYMBELINE。 I have
surely seen him； His favour is familiar to me。 Boy； Thou hast look'd
thyself into my grace； And art mine own。 I know not why； wherefore To
say 'Live； boy。' Ne'er thank thy master。 Live； And ask of Cymbeline what
boon thou wilt； Fitting my bounty and thy state； I'll give it； Yea； though
thou do demand a prisoner； The noblest ta'en。 IMOGEN。 I humbly thank
your Highness。 LUCIUS。 I do not bid thee beg my life； good lad； And yet I
know thou wilt。 IMOGEN。 No； no！ Alack； There's other work in hand。 I
see a thing Bitter to me as death； your life； good master； Must shuffle for
itself。 LUCIUS。 The boy disdains me； He leaves me； scorns me。 Briefly
die their joys That place them on the truth of girls and boys。 Why stands
he so perplex'd？ CYMBELINE。 What wouldst thou； boy？ I love thee more
and more； think more and more What's best to ask。 Know'st him thou
look'st on？ Speak； Wilt have him live？ Is he thy kin？ thy friend？ IMOGEN。
He is a Roman； no more kin to me Than I to your Highness； who； being
born your vassal； Am something nearer。 CYMBELINE。 Wherefore ey'st
him so？ IMOGEN。 I'll tell you； sir； in private； if you please To give me
hearing。 CYMBELINE。 Ay； with all my heart； And lend my best attention。
What's thy name？ IMOGEN。 Fidele； sir。 CYMBELINE。 Thou'rt my good
youth； my page； I'll be thy master。 Walk with me； speak freely。
＇CYMBELINE and IMOGEN converse apart＇ BELARIUS。 Is not this boy
reviv'd from death？ ARVIRAGUS。 One sand another Not more resembles…
that sweet rosy lad Who died and was Fidele。 What think you？
GUIDERIUS。 The same dead thing alive。 BELARIUS。 Peace； peace！ see
further。 He eyes us not； forbear。 Creatures may be alike； were't he； I am
sure He would have spoke to us。 GUIDERIUS。 But we saw him dead。
BELARIUS。 Be silent； let's see further。 PISANIO。 ＇Aside＇ It is my
mistress。 Since she is living； let the time run on To good or bad。
＇CYMBELINE and IMOGEN advance＇ CYMBELINE。 Come； stand thou
by our side； Make thy demand aloud。 ＇To IACHIMO＇ Sir； step you forth；
Give answer to this boy； and do it freely； Or； by our greatness and the
grace of it； Which is our honour； bitter torture shall Winnow the truth from
falsehood。 On； speak to him。 IMOGEN。 My boon is that this gentleman
may render Of whom he had this ring。 POSTHUMUS。 ＇Aside＇ What's that
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to him？ CYMBELINE。 That diamond upon your finger； say How came it
yours？ IACHIMO。 Thou'lt torture me to leav