<SPEECH 1><ACT 5><SCENE 4><80%>
<MOTHER>	<81%>

	Lucina lent not me her aid,
	But took me in my throes;
	That from me was Posthumus ript,
	Came crying 'mongst his foes,
	A thing of pity!

</MOTHER>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 5><SCENE 4><81%>
<MOTHER>	<81%>

	With marriage wherefore was he mock'd,
	To be exil'd, and thrown
	From Leonati's seat, and cast
	From her his dearest one,
	Sweet Imogen?

</MOTHER>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 5><SCENE 4><81%>
<MOTHER>	<82%>

	Since, Jupiter, our son is good,
	Take off his miseries.

</MOTHER>

