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 a dullard in this act?
Wilt thou not speak to me?
IMOGEN.
[Kneeling.] Your blessing, sir.
BELARIUS.
[To Guiderius and Arviragus.] Though you did love this youth, I blame ye not;
You had a motive for’t.