Post. I tell thee, Fellow, there are none want eyes, to direct them the way I am going, but such as winke, and will not vse them
Gao. What an infinite mocke is this, that a man shold haue the best vse of eyes, to see the way of blindnesse: I am sure hanging's the way of winking. Enter a Messenger.
Mes. Knocke off his Manacles, bring your Prisoner to
the King
Post. Thou bring'st good newes, I am call'd to bee
made free
Gao. Ile be hang'd then
Post. Thou shalt be then freer then a Gaoler; no bolts for the dead
Gao. Vnlesse a man would marry a Gallowes, & beget yong Gibbets, I neuer saw one so prone: yet on my Conscience, there are verier Knaues desire to liue, for all he be a Roman; and there be some of them too that dye against their willes; so should I, if I were one. I would we were all of one minde, and one minde good: O there were desolation of Gaolers and Galowses: I speake against my present profit, but my wish hath a preferment in't.
Exeunt.
Scena Quinta.
Enter Cymbeline, Bellarius, Guiderius, Aruiragus, Pisanio, and
Lords.