Read it through once
Cym. Mine eyes Were not in fault, for she was beautifull: Mine eares that heare her flattery, nor my heart, That thought her like her seeming. It had beene vicious To haue mistrusted her: yet (Oh my Daughter) That it was folly in me, thou mayst say, And proue it in thy feeling. Heauen mend all. Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and other Roman prisoners, Leonatus behind, and Imogen.