Glad of the thing they scowl at.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

And why so?

FIRST GENTLEMAN

He that hath missed the Princess is a thing

Too bad for bad report, and he that hath her—

I mean that married her—alack, good man,

And therefore banished!—is a creature such

As, to seek through the regions of the earth

For one his like, there would be something failing

In him that should compare. I do not think

So fair an outward and such stuff within

Endows a man but he.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

You speak him far.

FIRST GENTLEMAN

I do extend him, sir, within himself;

Crush him together rather than unfold

His measure duly.

SECOND GENTLEMAN What’s his name and birth?

FIRST GENTLEMAN

I cannot delve him to the root. His father

Was called Sicilius, who did join his honour

Against the Romans with Cassibelan

But had his titles by Tenantius, whom

He served with glory and admired success,

So gained the sur-addition ‘Leonatus’;

And had, besides this gentleman in question,

Two other sons who in the wars o‘th’ time

Died with their swords in hand; for which their father,

Then old and fond of issue, took such sorrow

That he quit being, and his gentle lady,

Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceased

As he was born. The King, he takes the babe

To his protection, calls him Posthumus Leonatus,

Breeds him, and makes him of his bedchamber;

Puts to him all the learnings that his time

Could make him the receiver of, which he took

As we do air, fast as ’twas ministered,

And in ’s spring became a harvest; lived in court—

Which rare it is to do—most praised, most loved;

A sample to the youngest, to th’ more mature

A glass that feated them, and to the graver

A child that guided dotards. To his mistress,

For whom he now is banished, her own price

Proclaims how she esteemed him and his virtue.

By her election may be truly read

What kind of man he is.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

I honour him

Even out of your report. But pray you tell me,

Is she sole child to th’ King?

FIRST GENTLEMAN His only child.

He had two sons—if this be worth your hearing,

Mark it: the eld‘st of them at three years old,

I’th’ swathing clothes the other, from their nursery

Were stol’n, and to this hour no guess in knowledge

Which way they went.

SECOND GENTLEMAN How long is this ago?

FIRST GENTLEMAN Some twenty years.

SECOND GENTLEMAN

That a king’s children should be so conveyed,

So slackly guarded, and the search so slow

That could not trace them!

FIRST GENTLEMAN

Howsoe‘er ’tis strange,

Or that the negligence may well be laughed at,

Yet is it true, sir.

SECOND GENTLEMAN I do well believe you.

Enter the Queen, Posthumus, and Innogen

FIRST GENTLEMAN

We must forbear. Here comes the gentleman,

The Queen and Princess.

Exeunt the two Gentlemen

QUEEN

No, be assured you shall not find me, daughter,

After the slander of most stepmothers,

Evil-eyed unto you. You’re my prisoner, but

Your jailer shall deliver you the keys

That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,

So soon as I can win th‘offended King

I will be known your advocate. Marry, yet

The fire of rage is in him, and ’twere good

You leaned unto his sentence with what patience

Your wisdom may inform you.

POSTHUMUS

Please your highness,

I will from hence today.

QUEEN

You know the peril.

I’ll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying

The pangs of barred affections, though the King

Hath charged you should not speak together. Exit

INNOGEN

O dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant

Can tickle where she wounds! My dearest husband,

I something fear my father’s wrath, but nothing—

Always reserved my holy duty—what

His rage can do on me. You must be gone,

And I shall here abide the hourly shot

Of angry eyes, not comforted to live

But that there is this jewel in the world

That I may see again.

POSTHUMUS

My queen, my mistress!

O lady, weep no more, lest I give cause

To be suspected of more tenderness

Than doth become a man. I will remain

The loyal‘st husband that did e’er plight troth;

My residence in Rome at one Filario’s,

Who to my father was a friend, to me

Known but by letter; thither write, my queen,

And with mine eyes I’ll drink the words you send

Though ink be made of gall.

Enter Queen

QUEEN

Be brief, I pray you.

If the King come, I shall incur I know not

How much of his displeasure. (Aside) Yet I’ll move him

To walk this way. I never do him wrong

But he does buy my injuries, to be friends,

Pays dear for my offences. Exit

POSTHUMUS

Should we be taking leave

As long a term as yet we have to live,

The loathness to depart would grow. Adieu.

INNOGEN Nay, stay a little.

Were you but riding forth to air yourself