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to him？ CYMBELINE。 That diamond upon your finger； say How came it
yours？ IACHIMO。 Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken that Which to be
spoke would torture thee。 CYMBELINE。 How？ me？ IACHIMO。 I am glad
to be constrain'd to utter that Which torments me to conceal。 By villainy I
got this ring； 'twas Leonatus' jewel； Whom thou didst banish； and… which
more may grieve thee； As it doth me… a nobler sir ne'er liv'd 'Twixt sky and
ground。 Wilt thou hear more； my lord？ CYMBELINE。 All that belongs to
this。 IACHIMO。 That paragon； thy daughter； For whom my heart drops
blood and my false spirits Quail to remember… Give me leave； I faint。
CYMBELINE。 My daughter？ What of her？ Renew thy strength； I had
rather thou shouldst live while nature will Than die ere I hear more。 Strive；
man； and speak。 IACHIMO。 Upon a time… unhappy was the clock That
struck the hour！… was in Rome… accurs'd The mansion where！… 'twas at a
feast… O； would Our viands had been poison'd； or at least Those which I
heav'd to head！… the good Posthumus… What should I say？ he was too good
to be Where ill men were； and was the best of all Amongst the rar'st of
good ones… sitting sadly Hearing us praise our loves of Italy For beauty
that made barren the swell'd boast Of him that best could speak； for
feature； laming The shrine of Venus or straight…pight Minerva； Postures
beyond brief nature； for condition； A shop of all the qualities that man
Loves woman for； besides that hook of wiving； Fairness which strikes the
eye… CYMBELINE。 I stand on fire。 Come to the matter。 IACHIMO。 All
too soon I shall； Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly。 This Posthumus；
Most like a noble lord in love and one That had a royal lover； took his hint；
And not dispraising whom we prais'd… therein He was as calm as virtue… he
began His mistress' picture； which by his tongue being made； And then a
mind put in't； either our brags Were crack'd of kitchen trulls； or his
description Prov'd us unspeaking sots。 CYMBELINE。 Nay； nay； to th'
purpose。 IACHIMO。 Your daughter's chastity… there it begins。 He spake of
her as Dian had hot dreams And she alone were cold； whereat I； wretch；
Made scruple of his praise； and wager'd with him Pieces of gold 'gainst
this which then he wore Upon his honour'd finger； to attain In suit the
place of's bed； and win this ring By hers and mine adultery。 He； true knight；
No lesser of her honour confident Than I did truly find her； stakes this ring；
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And would so； had it been a carbuncle Of Phoebus' wheel； and might so
safely； had it Been all the worth of's car。 Away to Britain Post I in this
design。 Well may you； sir； Remember me at court； where I was taught Of
your chaste daughter the wide difference 'Twixt amorous and villainous。
Being thus quench'd Of hope； not longing； mine Italian brain Gan in your
duller Britain operate Most vilely； for my vantage； excellent； And； to be
brief； my practice so prevail'd That I return'd with simular proof enough
To make the noble Leonatus mad； By wounding his belief in her renown
With tokens thus and thus； averring notes Of chamber…hanging； pictures；
this her bracelet… O cunning； how I got it！… nay； some marks Of secret on
her person； that he could not But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd； I
having ta'en the forfeit。 Whereupon… Methinks I see him now…
POSTHUMUS。 ＇Coming forward＇ Ay； so thou dost； Italian fiend！ Ay me；
most credulous fool； Egregious murderer； thief； anything That's due to all
the villains past； in being； To come！ O； give me cord； or knife； or poison；
Some upright justicer！ Thou； King； send out For torturers ingenious。 It is I
That all th' abhorred things o' th' earth amend By being worse than they。 I
am Posthumus； That kill'd thy daughter； villain…like； I lie… That caus'd a
lesser villain than myself； A sacrilegious thief； to do't。 The temple Of
virtue was she； yea； and she herself。 Spit； and throw stones； cast mire upon
me； set The dogs o' th' street to bay me。 Every villain Be call'd Posthumus
Leonatus； and Be villainy less than 'twas！ O Imogen！ My queen； my life；
my wife！ O Imogen； Imogen； Imogen！ IMOGEN。 Peace； my lord。 Hear；
hear！ POSTHUMUS。 Shall's have a play of this？ Thou scornful page；
There lies thy part。 ＇Strikes her。 She falls＇ PISANIO。 O gentlemen； help！
Mine and your mistress！ O； my lord Posthumus！ You ne'er kill'd Imogen
till now。 Help； help！ Mine honour'd lady！ CYMBELINE。 Does the world
go round？ POSTHUMUS。 How comes these staggers on me？ PISANIO。
Wake； my mistress！ CYMBELINE。 If this be so； the gods do mean to
strike me To death with mortal joy。 PISANIO。 How fares my mistress？
IMOGEN。 O； get thee from my sight； Thou gav'st me poison。 Dangerous
fellow； hence！ Breathe not where princes are。 CYMBELINE。 The tune of
Imogen！ PISANIO。 Lady； The gods throw stones of sulphur on me； if That
box I gave you was not thought by me A precious thing！ I had it from the
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Queen。 CYMBELINE。 New matter still？ IMOGEN。 It poison'd me。
CORNELIUS。 O gods！ I left out one thing which the Queen confess'd；
Which must approve thee honest。 'If Pisanio Have' said she 'given his
mistress that confection Which I gave him for cordial； she is serv'd As I
would serve a rat。' CYMBELINE。 What's this； Cornelius？ CORNELIUS。
The Queen； sir； very oft importun'd me To temper poisons for her； still
pretending The satisfaction of her knowledge only In killing creatures vile；
as cats and dogs； Of no esteem。 I； dreading that her purpose Was of more
danger； did compound for her A certain stuff； which； being ta'en would
cease The present pow'r of life； but in short time All offices of nature
should again Do their due functions。 Have you ta'en of it？ IMOGEN。 Most
like I did； for I was dead。 BELARIUS。 My boys； There was our error。
GUIDERIUS。 This is sure Fidele。 IMOGEN。 Why did you throw your
wedded lady from you？ Think that you are upon a rock； and now Throw
me again。 ＇Embracing him＇ POSTHUMUS。 Hang there like fruit； my soul；
Till the tree die！ CYMBELINE。 How now； my flesh？ my child？ What；
mak'st thou me