 | Cymbeline |  |
SCENE II.
Drums and Trumpets. Cymbeline and Bellarius, &c. enter in Triumph.Cymb.
Welcome, my brave deliverer, to your own—
To the possessions of a lavish friendship,
That will not know partition!—Seek we, now,
To purge our palace of domestic evils,
Officer enters.
And traitors, late most loved.—Where is your Queen?—
Offic.
O, my dread lord, the winds, in all their whirl,
Are not so wild—madder than twenty Maniacs.—
When she beheld her son, brought home, a corpse,
She swoon'd; but, waking into sudden frenzy,
She drew a poniard, flew on all she met;
And, though, with difficulty, now disarm'd,
None dare approach.
Cymb.
Is Cloten dead?
Offic.
He is.
Cymb.
Then, Heaven has saved a labour—Here she comes—
Mark her.
| Cymbeline | |