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Section 1001
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Sooth.
The fingers of the Powres aboue, do tune
The harmony of this Peace: the Vision
Which I made knowne to Lucius ere the stroke
Of yet this scarse‑cold‑Battaile, at this instant
Is full accomplish'd. For the Romaine Eagle
From South to West, on wing soaring aloft
Lessen'd her selfe, and in the Beames o'th'Sun
So vanish'd; which fore‑shew'd our Princely Eagle
Th'Imperiall Cæsar, should againe vnite
His Fauour, with the Radiant Cymbeline,
Which shines heere in the West.