<SPEECH 1><ACT 4><SCENE 2><69%>
<SOOTHSAYER>	<70%>
	Last night the very gods show'd me a vision,—
	I fast and pray'd for their intelligence,—thus:
	I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd
	From the spongy south to this part of the west,
	There vanish'd in the sunbeams; which portends,
	Unless my sins abuse my divination,
	Success to the Roman host.
</SOOTHSAYER>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 5><SCENE 5><98%>
<SOOTHSAYER>	<99%>
	Here, my good lord.
</SOOTHSAYER>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 5><SCENE 5><98%>
<SOOTHSAYER>	<99%>
	Whenas a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches, which, being dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow: then shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace and plenty.
	Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp;
	The fit and apt construction of thy name,
	Being Leo-natus, doth import so much.
<STAGE DIR>
<To Cymbeline.>
</STAGE DIR> The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,
	Which we call mollis aer; and mollis aer
	We term it mulier; which mulier, I divine,
	Is this most constant wife; who, even now,
	Answering the letter of the oracle,
	Unknown to you, <STAGE DIR>
<To Posthumus.>
</STAGE DIR> unsought, were clipp'd about
	With this most tender air.
</SOOTHSAYER>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 5><SCENE 5><99%>
<SOOTHSAYER>	<99%>
	The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
	Personates thee, and thy lopp'd branches point
	Thy two sons forth; who, by Belarius stolen,
	For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd
	To the majestic cedar join'd, whose issue
	Promises Britain peace and plenty.
</SOOTHSAYER>

<SPEECH 5><ACT 5><SCENE 5><99%>
<SOOTHSAYER>	<99%>
	The fingers of the powers above do tune
	The harmony of this peace. The vision
	Which I made known to Lucius ere the stroke
	Of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this instant
	Is full accomplish'd; for the Roman eagle,
	From south to west on wing soaring aloft,
	Lessen'd herself, and in the beams o' the sun
	So vanish'd: which foreshow'd our princely eagle,
	The imperial Cæsar, should again unite
	His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
	Which shines here in the west.
</SOOTHSAYER>

