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diff --git a/2269-0.txt b/2269-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b3b8a29 --- /dev/null +++ b/2269-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4840 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 2269 *** + + +Executive Director's Notes: + +In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all +the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have +been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they +are presented herein: + + Barnardo. Who's there? + Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold +your selfe + + Bar. Long liue the King + + * * * * * + +As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words +or letters they had often packed into a "cliche". . .this is the +original meaning of the term cliche. . .and thus, being unwilling +to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions +that look very odd. . .such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u, +above. . .and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming +Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner. . . . + +The answer is that they MAY have packed "liue" into a cliche at a +time when they were out of "v"'s. . .possibly having used "vv" in +place of some "w"'s, etc. This was a common practice of the day, +as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend +more on a wider selection of characters than they had to. + +You will find a lot of these kinds of "errors" in this text, as I +have mentioned in other times and places, many "scholars" have an +extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a +very high place in the "canon" of Shakespeare. My father read an +assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University +in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the +purpose. To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available +. . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes, +that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a +variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous +for signing his name with several different spellings. + +So, please take this into account when reading the comments below +made by our volunteer who prepared this file: you may see errors +that are "not" errors. . . . + +So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors, +here is the Project Gutenberg Etext of Shakespeare's play. + +Michael S. Hart +Project Gutenberg +Executive Director + + * * * * * + +Scanner's Notes: + +What this is and isn't. This was taken from a copy of +Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can come in +ASCII to the printed text. + +The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the +conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the spelling, +punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the printed +text. I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put +together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of +the Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified +spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded +abbreviations as I have come across them. Everything within +brackets [] is what I have added. So if you don't like that you +can delete everything within the brackets if you want a purer +Shakespeare. + +Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are +textual differences between various copies of the first folio. So +there may be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) +between this and other first folio editions. This is due to the +printer's habit of setting the type and running off a number of +copies and then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type +and then continuing the printing run. The proof run wasn't thrown +away but incorporated into the printed copies. This is just the +way it is. The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 +different First Folio editions' best pages. + +David Reed + +===================================================================== + + + + +The Tragedie of Cymbeline + + +Actus Primus. Scoena Prima. + +Enter two Gentlemen. + + 1.Gent. You do not meet a man but Frownes. +Our bloods no more obey the Heauens +Then our Courtiers: +Still seeme, as do's the Kings + + 2 Gent. But what's the matter? + 1. His daughter, and the heire of's kingdome (whom +He purpos'd to his wiues sole Sonne, a Widdow +That late he married) hath referr'd her selfe +Vnto a poore, but worthy Gentleman. She's wedded, +Her Husband banish'd; she imprison'd, all +Is outward sorrow, though I thinke the King +Be touch'd at very heart + + 2 None but the King? + 1 He that hath lost her too: so is the Queene, +That most desir'd the Match. But not a Courtier, +Although they weare their faces to the bent +Of the Kings lookes, hath a heart that is not +Glad at the thing they scowle at + + 2 And why so? + 1 He that hath miss'd the Princesse, is a thing +Too bad, for bad report: and he that hath her, +(I meane, that married her, alacke good man, +And therefore banish'd) is a Creature, such, +As to seeke through the Regions of the Earth +For one, his like; there would be something failing +In him, that should compare. I do not thinke, +So faire an Outward, and such stuffe Within +Endowes a man, but hee + + 2 You speake him farre + + 1 I do extend him (Sir) within himselfe, +Crush him together, rather then vnfold +His measure duly + + 2 What's his name, and Birth? + 1 I cannot delue him to the roote: His Father +Was call'd Sicillius, who did ioyne his Honor +Against the Romanes, with Cassibulan, +But had his Titles by Tenantius, whom +He seru'd with Glory, and admir'd Successe: +So gain'd the Sur-addition, Leonatus. +And had (besides this Gentleman in question) +Two other Sonnes, who in the Warres o'th' time +Dy'de with their Swords in hand. For which, their Father +Then old, and fond of yssue, tooke such sorrow +That he quit Being; and his gentle Lady +Bigge of this Gentleman (our Theame) deceast +As he was borne. The King he takes the Babe +To his protection, cals him Posthumus Leonatus, +Breedes him, and makes him of his Bed-chamber, +Puts to him all the Learnings that his time +Could make him the receiuer of, which he tooke +As we do ayre, fast as 'twas ministred, +And in's Spring, became a Haruest: Liu'd in Court +(Which rare it is to do) most prais'd, most lou'd, +A sample to the yongest: to th' more Mature, +A glasse that feated them: and to the grauer, +A Childe that guided Dotards. To his Mistris, +(For whom he now is banish'd) her owne price +Proclaimes how she esteem'd him; and his Vertue +By her electio[n] may be truly read, what kind of man he is + + 2 I honor him, euen out of your report. +But pray you tell me, is she sole childe to'th' King? + 1 His onely childe: +He had two Sonnes (if this be worth your hearing, +Marke it) the eldest of them, at three yeares old +I'th' swathing cloathes, the other from their Nursery +Were stolne, and to this houre, no ghesse in knowledge +Which way they went + + 2 How long is this ago? + 1 Some twenty yeares + + 2 That a Kings Children should be so conuey'd, +So slackely guarded, and the search so slow +That could not trace them + + 1 Howsoere, 'tis strange, +Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at: +Yet is it true Sir + + 2 I do well beleeue you + + 1 We must forbeare. Heere comes the Gentleman, +The Queene, and Princesse. + +Exeunt. + +Scena Secunda. + +Enter the Queene, Posthumus, and Imogen. + + Qu. No, be assur'd you shall not finde me (Daughter) +After the slander of most Step-Mothers, +Euill-ey'd vnto you. You're my Prisoner, but +Your Gaoler shall deliuer you the keyes +That locke vp your restraint. For you Posthumus, +So soone as I can win th' offended King, +I will be knowne your Aduocate: marry yet +The fire of Rage is in him, and 'twere good +You lean'd vnto his Sentence, with what patience +Your wisedome may informe you + + Post. 'Please your Highnesse, +I will from hence to day + + Qu. You know the perill: +Ile fetch a turne about the Garden, pittying +The pangs of barr'd Affections, though the King +Hath charg'd you should not speake together. + +Exit + + Imo. O dissembling Curtesie! How fine this Tyrant +Can tickle where she wounds? My deerest Husband, +I something feare my Fathers wrath, but nothing +(Alwayes reseru'd my holy duty) what +His rage can do on me. You must be gone, +And I shall heere abide the hourely shot +Of angry eyes: not comforted to liue, +But that there is this Iewell in the world, +That I may see againe + + Post. My Queene, my Mistris: +O Lady, weepe no more, least I giue cause +To be suspected of more tendernesse +Then doth become a man. I will remaine +The loyall'st husband, that did ere plight troth. +My residence in Rome, at one Filorio's, +Who, to my Father was a Friend, to me +Knowne but by Letter; thither write (my Queene) +And with mine eyes, Ile drinke the words you send, +Though Inke be made of Gall. +Enter Queene. + + Qu. Be briefe, I pray you: +If the King come, I shall incurre, I know not +How much of his displeasure: yet Ile moue him +To walke this way: I neuer do him wrong, +But he do's buy my Iniuries, to be Friends: +Payes deere for my offences + + Post. Should we be taking leaue +As long a terme as yet we haue to liue, +The loathnesse to depart, would grow: Adieu + + Imo. Nay, stay a little: +Were you but riding forth to ayre your selfe, +Such parting were too petty. Looke heere (Loue) +This Diamond was my Mothers; take it (Heart) +But keepe it till you woo another Wife, +When Imogen is dead + + Post. How, how? Another? +You gentle Gods, giue me but this I haue, +And seare vp my embracements from a next, +With bonds of death. Remaine, remaine thou heere, +While sense can keepe it on: And sweetest, fairest, +As I (my poore selfe) did exchange for you +To your so infinite losse; so in our trifles +I still winne of you. For my sake weare this, +It is a Manacle of Loue, Ile place it +Vpon this fayrest Prisoner + + Imo. O the Gods! +When shall we see againe? +Enter Cymbeline, and Lords. + + Post. Alacke, the King + + Cym. Thou basest thing, auoyd hence, from my sight: +If after this command thou fraught the Court +With thy vnworthinesse, thou dyest. Away, +Thou'rt poyson to my blood + + Post. The Gods protect you, +And blesse the good Remainders of the Court: +I am gone + + Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death +More sharpe then this is + + Cym. O disloyall thing, +That should'st repayre my youth, thou heap'st +A yeares age on mee + + Imo. I beseech you Sir, +Harme not your selfe with your vexation, +I am senselesse of your Wrath; a Touch more rare +Subdues all pangs, all feares + + Cym. Past Grace? Obedience? + Imo. Past hope, and in dispaire, that way past Grace + + Cym. That might'st haue had +The sole Sonne of my Queene + + Imo. O blessed, that I might not: I chose an Eagle, +And did auoyd a Puttocke + + Cym. Thou took'st a Begger, would'st haue made my +Throne, a Seate for basenesse + + Imo. No, I rather added a lustre to it + + Cym. O thou vilde one! + Imo. Sir, +It is your fault that I haue lou'd Posthumus: +You bred him as my Play-fellow, and he is +A man, worth any woman: Ouer-buyes mee +Almost the summe he payes + + Cym. What? art thou mad? + Imo. Almost Sir: Heauen restore me: would I were +A Neat-heards Daughter, and my Leonatus +Our Neighbour-Shepheards Sonne. +Enter Queene. + + Cym. Thou foolish thing; +They were againe together: you haue done +Not after our command. Away with her, +And pen her vp + + Qu. Beseech your patience: Peace +Deere Lady daughter, peace. Sweet Soueraigne, +Leaue vs to our selues, and make your self some comfort +Out of your best aduice + + Cym. Nay, let her languish +A drop of blood a day, and being aged +Dye of this Folly. +Enter. + +Enter Pisanio. + + Qu. Fye, you must giue way: +Heere is your Seruant. How now Sir? What newes? + Pisa. My Lord your Sonne, drew on my Master + + Qu. Hah? +No harme I trust is done? + Pisa. There might haue beene, +But that my Master rather plaid, then fought, +And had no helpe of Anger: they were parted +By Gentlemen, at hand + + Qu. I am very glad on't + + Imo. Your Son's my Fathers friend, he takes his part +To draw vpon an Exile. O braue Sir, +I would they were in Affricke both together, +My selfe by with a Needle, that I might pricke +The goer backe. Why came you from your Master? + Pisa. On his command: he would not suffer mee +To bring him to the Hauen: left these Notes +Of what commands I should be subiect too, +When't pleas'd you to employ me + + Qu. This hath beene +Your faithfull Seruant: I dare lay mine Honour +He will remaine so + + Pisa. I humbly thanke your Highnesse + + Qu. Pray walke a-while + + Imo. About some halfe houre hence, +Pray you speake with me; +You shall (at least) go see my Lord aboord. +For this time leaue me. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Tertia. + +Enter Clotten, and two Lords. + + 1. Sir, I would aduise you to shift a Shirt; the Violence +of Action hath made you reek as a Sacrifice: where +ayre comes out, ayre comes in: There's none abroad so +wholesome as that you vent + + Clot. If my Shirt were bloody, then to shift it. +Haue I hurt him? + 2 No faith: not so much as his patience + + 1 Hurt him? His bodie's a passable Carkasse if he bee +not hurt. It is a through-fare for Steele if it be not hurt + + 2 His Steele was in debt, it went o'th' Backe-side the +Towne + + Clot. The Villaine would not stand me + + 2 No, but he fled forward still, toward your face + + 1 Stand you? you haue Land enough of your owne: +But he added to your hauing, gaue you some ground + + 2 As many Inches, as you haue Oceans (Puppies.) + Clot. I would they had not come betweene vs + + 2 So would I, till you had measur'd how long a Foole +you were vpon the ground + + Clot. And that shee should loue this Fellow, and refuse +mee + + 2 If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damn'd + + 1 Sir, as I told you alwayes: her Beauty & her Braine +go not together. Shee's a good signe, but I haue seene +small reflection of her wit + + 2 She shines not vpon Fooles, least the reflection +Should hurt her + + Clot. Come, Ile to my Chamber: would there had +beene some hurt done + + 2 I wish not so, vnlesse it had bin the fall of an Asse, +which is no great hurt + + Clot. You'l go with vs? + 1 Ile attend your Lordship + + Clot. Nay come, let's go together + + 2 Well my Lord. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Quarta. + +Enter Imogen, and Pisanio. + + Imo. I would thou grew'st vnto the shores o'th' Hauen, +And questioned'st euery Saile: if he should write, +And I not haue it, 'twere a Paper lost +As offer'd mercy is: What was the last +That he spake to thee? + Pisa. It was his Queene, his Queene + + Imo. Then wau'd his Handkerchiefe? + Pisa. And kist it, Madam + + Imo. Senselesse Linnen, happier therein then I: +And that was all? + Pisa. No Madam: for so long +As he could make me with his eye, or eare, +Distinguish him from others, he did keepe +The Decke, with Gloue, or Hat, or Handkerchife, +Still wauing, as the fits and stirres of's mind +Could best expresse how slow his Soule sayl'd on, +How swift his Ship + + Imo. Thou should'st haue made him +As little as a Crow, or lesse, ere left +To after-eye him + + Pisa. Madam, so I did + + Imo. I would haue broke mine eye-strings; +Crack'd them, but to looke vpon him, till the diminution +Of space, had pointed him sharpe as my Needle: +Nay, followed him, till he had melted from +The smalnesse of a Gnat, to ayre: and then +Haue turn'd mine eye, and wept. But good Pisanio, +When shall we heare from him + + Pisa. Be assur'd Madam, +With his next vantage + + Imo. I did not take my leaue of him, but had +Most pretty things to say: Ere I could tell him +How I would thinke on him at certaine houres, +Such thoughts, and such: Or I could make him sweare, +The Shees of Italy should not betray +Mine Interest, and his Honour: or haue charg'd him +At the sixt houre of Morne, at Noone, at Midnight, +T' encounter me with Orisons, for then +I am in Heauen for him: Or ere I could, +Giue him that parting kisse, which I had set +Betwixt two charming words, comes in my Father, +And like the Tyrannous breathing of the North, +Shakes all our buddes from growing. +Enter a Lady. + + La. The Queene (Madam) +Desires your Highnesse Company + + Imo. Those things I bid you do, get them dispatch'd, +I will attend the Queene + + Pisa. Madam, I shall. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Quinta. + +Enter Philario, Iachimo: a Frenchman, a Dutchman, and a +Spaniard. + + Iach. Beleeue it Sir, I haue seene him in Britaine; hee +was then of a Cressent note, expected to proue so woorthy, +as since he hath beene allowed the name of. But I +could then haue look'd on him, without the help of Admiration, +though the Catalogue of his endowments had +bin tabled by his side, and I to peruse him by Items + + Phil. You speake of him when he was lesse furnish'd, +then now hee is, with that which makes him both without, +and within + + French. I haue seene him in France: wee had very many +there, could behold the Sunne, with as firme eyes as +hee + + Iach. This matter of marrying his Kings Daughter, +wherein he must be weighed rather by her valew, then +his owne, words him (I doubt not) a great deale from the +matter + + French. And then his banishment + + Iach. I, and the approbation of those that weepe this +lamentable diuorce vnder her colours, are wonderfully +to extend him, be it but to fortifie her iudgement, which +else an easie battery might lay flat, for taking a Begger +without lesse quality. But how comes it, he is to soiourne +with you? How creepes acquaintance? + Phil. His Father and I were Souldiers together, to +whom I haue bin often bound for no lesse then my life. +Enter Posthumus. + +Heere comes the Britaine. Let him be so entertained among'st +you, as suites with Gentlemen of your knowing, +to a Stranger of his quality. I beseech you all be better +knowne to this Gentleman, whom I commend to you, +as a Noble Friend of mine. How Worthy he is, I will +leaue to appeare hereafter, rather then story him in his +owne hearing + + French. Sir, we haue knowne togither in Orleance + + Post. Since when, I haue bin debtor to you for courtesies, +which I will be euer to pay, and yet pay still + + French. Sir, you o're-rate my poore kindnesse, I was +glad I did attone my Countryman and you: it had beene +pitty you should haue beene put together, with so mortall +a purpose, as then each bore, vpon importance of so +slight and triuiall a nature + + Post. By your pardon Sir, I was then a young Traueller, +rather shun'd to go euen with what I heard, then in +my euery action to be guided by others experiences: but +vpon my mended iudgement (if I offend to say it is mended) +my Quarrell was not altogether slight + + French. Faith yes, to be put to the arbiterment of +Swords, and by such two, that would by all likelyhood +haue confounded one the other, or haue falne both + + Iach. Can we with manners, aske what was the difference? + French. Safely, I thinke, 'twas a contention in publicke, +which may (without contradiction) suffer the report. +It was much like an argument that fell out last +night, where each of vs fell in praise of our Country-Mistresses. +This Gentleman, at that time vouching (and +vpon warrant of bloody affirmation) his to be more +Faire, Vertuous, Wise, Chaste, Constant, Qualified, and +lesse attemptible then any, the rarest of our Ladies in +Fraunce + + Iach. That Lady is not now liuing; or this Gentlemans +opinion by this, worne out + + Post. She holds her Vertue still, and I my mind + + Iach. You must not so farre preferre her, 'fore ours of +Italy + + Posth. Being so farre prouok'd as I was in France: I +would abate her nothing, though I professe my selfe her +Adorer, not her Friend + + Iach. As faire, and as good: a kind of hand in hand +comparison, had beene something too faire, and too +good for any Lady in Britanie; if she went before others. +I haue seene as that Diamond of yours out-lusters many +I haue beheld, I could not beleeue she excelled many: +but I haue not seene the most pretious Diamond that is, +nor you the Lady + + Post. I prais'd her, as I rated her: so do I my Stone + + Iach. What do you esteeme it at? + Post. More then the world enioyes + + Iach. Either your vnparagon'd Mistris is dead, or +she's out-priz'd by a trifle + + Post. You are mistaken: the one may be solde or giuen, +or if there were wealth enough for the purchases, or +merite for the guift. The other is not a thing for sale, +and onely the guift of the Gods + + Iach. Which the Gods haue giuen you? + Post. Which by their Graces I will keepe + + Iach. You may weare her in title yours: but you +know strange Fowle light vpon neighbouring Ponds. +Your Ring may be stolne too, so your brace of vnprizeable +Estimations, the one is but fraile, and the other Casuall; +A cunning Thiefe, or a (that way) accomplish'd +Courtier, would hazzard the winning both of first and +last + + Post. Your Italy, containes none so accomplish'd a +Courtier to conuince the Honour of my Mistris: if in the +holding or losse of that, you terme her fraile, I do nothing +doubt you haue store of Theeues, notwithstanding +I feare not my Ring + + Phil. Let vs leaue heere, Gentlemen? + Post. Sir, with all my heart. This worthy Signior I +thanke him, makes no stranger of me, we are familiar at +first + + Iach. With fiue times so much conuersation, I should +get ground of your faire Mistris; make her go backe, euen +to the yeilding, had I admittance, and opportunitie +to friend + + Post. No, no + + Iach. I dare thereupon pawne the moytie of my Estate, +to your Ring, which in my opinion o're-values it +something: but I make my wager rather against your +Confidence, then her Reputation. And to barre your offence +heerein to, I durst attempt it against any Lady in +the world + + Post. You are a great deale abus'd in too bold a perswasion, +and I doubt not you sustaine what y'are worthy +of, by your Attempt + + Iach. What's that? + Posth. A Repulse though your Attempt (as you call +it) deserue more; a punishment too + + Phi. Gentlemen enough of this, it came in too sodainely, +let it dye as it was borne, and I pray you be better +acquainted + + Iach. Would I had put my Estate, and my Neighbors +on th' approbation of what I haue spoke + + Post. What Lady would you chuse to assaile? + Iach. Yours, whom in constancie you thinke stands +so safe. I will lay you ten thousands Duckets to your +Ring, that commend me to the Court where your Lady +is, with no more aduantage then the opportunitie of a +second conference, and I will bring from thence, that +Honor of hers, which you imagine so reseru'd + + Posthmus. I will wage against your Gold, Gold to +it: My Ring I holde deere as my finger, 'tis part of +it + + Iach. You are a Friend, and there in the wiser: if you +buy Ladies flesh at a Million a Dram, you cannot preserue +it from tainting; but I see you haue some Religion +in you, that you feare + + Posthu. This is but a custome in your tongue: you +beare a grauer purpose I hope + + Iach. I am the Master of my speeches, and would vnder-go +what's spoken, I sweare + + Posthu. Will you? I shall but lend my Diamond till +your returne: let there be Couenants drawne between's. +My Mistris exceedes in goodnesse, the hugenesse of your +vnworthy thinking. I dare you to this match: heere's my +Ring + + Phil. I will haue it no lay + + Iach. By the Gods it is one: if I bring you no sufficient +testimony that I haue enioy'd the deerest bodily +part of your Mistris: my ten thousand Duckets are yours, +so is your Diamond too: if I come off, and leaue her in +such honour as you haue trust in; Shee your Iewell, this +your Iewell, and my Gold are yours: prouided, I haue +your commendation, for my more free entertainment + + Post. I embrace these Conditions, let vs haue Articles +betwixt vs: onely thus farre you shall answere, if you +make your voyage vpon her, and giue me directly to vnderstand, +you haue preuayl'd, I am no further your Enemy, +shee is not worth our debate. If shee remaine vnseduc'd, +you not making it appeare otherwise: for your ill +opinion, and th' assault you haue made to her chastity, you +shall answer me with your Sword + + Iach. Your hand, a Couenant: wee will haue these +things set downe by lawfull Counsell, and straight away +for Britaine, least the Bargaine should catch colde, and +sterue: I will fetch my Gold, and haue our two Wagers +recorded + + Post. Agreed + + French. Will this hold, thinke you + + Phil. Signior Iachimo will not from it. +Pray let vs follow 'em. + +Exeunt. + +Scena Sexta. + +Enter Queene, Ladies, and Cornelius. + + Qu. Whiles yet the dewe's on ground, +Gather those Flowers, +Make haste. Who ha's the note of them? + Lady. I Madam + + Queen. Dispatch. + +Exit Ladies. + +Now Master Doctor, haue you brought those drugges? + Cor. Pleaseth your Highnes, I: here they are, Madam: +But I beseech your Grace, without offence +(My Conscience bids me aske) wherefore you haue +Commanded of me these most poysonous Compounds, +Which are the moouers of a languishing death: +But though slow, deadly + + Qu. I wonder, Doctor, +Thou ask'st me such a Question: Haue I not bene +Thy Pupill long? Hast thou not learn'd me how +To make Perfumes? Distill? Preserue? Yea so, +That our great King himselfe doth woo me oft +For my Confections? Hauing thus farre proceeded, +(Vnlesse thou think'st me diuellish) is't not meete +That I did amplifie my iudgement in +Other Conclusions? I will try the forces +Of these thy Compounds, on such Creatures as +We count not worth the hanging (but none humane) +To try the vigour of them, and apply +Allayments to their Act, and by them gather +Their seuerall vertues, and effects + + Cor. Your Highnesse +Shall from this practise, but make hard your heart: +Besides, the seeing these effects will be +Both noysome, and infectious + + Qu. O content thee. +Enter Pisanio. + +Heere comes a flattering Rascall, vpon him +Will I first worke: Hee's for his Master, +And enemy to my Sonne. How now Pisanio? +Doctor, your seruice for this time is ended, +Take your owne way + + Cor. I do suspect you, Madam, +But you shall do no harme + + Qu. Hearke thee, a word + + Cor. I do not like her. She doth thinke she ha's +Strange ling'ring poysons: I do know her spirit, +And will not trust one of her malice, with +A drugge of such damn'd Nature. Those she ha's, +Will stupifie and dull the Sense a-while, +Which first (perchance) shee'l proue on Cats and Dogs, +Then afterward vp higher: but there is +No danger in what shew of death it makes, +More then the locking vp the Spirits a time, +To be more fresh, reuiuing. She is fool'd +With a most false effect: and I, the truer, +So to be false with her + + Qu. No further seruice, Doctor, +Vntill I send for thee + + Cor. I humbly take my leaue. +Enter. + + Qu. Weepes she still (saist thou?) +Dost thou thinke in time +She will not quench, and let instructions enter +Where Folly now possesses? Do thou worke: +When thou shalt bring me word she loues my Sonne, +Ile tell thee on the instant, thou art then +As great as is thy Master: Greater, for +His Fortunes all lye speechlesse, and his name +Is at last gaspe. Returne he cannot, nor +Continue where he is: To shift his being, +Is to exchange one misery with another, +And euery day that comes, comes to decay +A dayes worke in him. What shalt thou expect +To be depender on a thing that leanes? +Who cannot be new built, nor ha's no Friends +So much, as but to prop him? Thou tak'st vp +Thou know'st not what: But take it for thy labour, +It is a thing I made, which hath the King +Fiue times redeem'd from death. I do not know +What is more Cordiall. Nay, I prythee take it, +It is an earnest of a farther good +That I meane to thee. Tell thy Mistris how +The case stands with her: doo't, as from thy selfe; +Thinke what a chance thou changest on, but thinke +Thou hast thy Mistris still, to boote, my Sonne, +Who shall take notice of thee. Ile moue the King +To any shape of thy Preferment, such +As thou'lt desire: and then my selfe, I cheefely, +That set thee on to this desert, am bound +To loade thy merit richly. Call my women. + +Exit Pisa. + +Thinke on my words. A slye, and constant knaue, +Not to be shak'd: the Agent for his Master, +And the Remembrancer of her, to hold +The hand-fast to her Lord. I haue giuen him that, +Which if he take, shall quite vnpeople her +Of Leidgers for her Sweete: and which, she after +Except she bend her humor, shall be assur'd +To taste of too. +Enter Pisanio, and Ladies. + +So, so: Well done, well done: +The Violets, Cowslippes, and the Prime-Roses +Beare to my Closset: Fare thee well, Pisanio. +Thinke on my words. + +Exit Qu. and Ladies + + Pisa. And shall do: +But when to my good Lord, I proue vntrue, +Ile choake my selfe: there's all Ile do for you. +Enter. + + +Scena Septima. + +Enter Imogen alone. + + Imo. A Father cruell, and a Stepdame false, +A Foolish Suitor to a Wedded-Lady, +That hath her Husband banish'd: O, that Husband, +My supreame Crowne of griefe, and those repeated +Vexations of it. Had I bin Theefe-stolne, +As my two Brothers, happy: but most miserable +Is the desires that's glorious. Blessed be those +How meane so ere, that haue their honest wills, +Which seasons comfort. Who may this be? Fye. +Enter Pisanio, and Iachimo. + + Pisa. Madam, a Noble Gentleman of Rome, +Comes from my Lord with Letters + + Iach. Change you, Madam: +The Worthy Leonatus is in safety, +And greetes your Highnesse deerely + + Imo. Thanks good Sir, +You're kindly welcome + + Iach. All of her, that is out of doore, most rich: +If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare +She is alone th' Arabian-Bird; and I +Haue lost the wager. Boldnesse be my Friend: +Arme me Audacitie from head to foote, +Or like the Parthian I shall flying fight, +Rather directly fly + + Imogen reads. He is one of the Noblest note, to whose +kindnesses I am +most infinitely +tied. Reflect vpon him accordingly, as you value your +trust. Leonatus. +So farre I reade aloud. +But euen the very middle of my heart +Is warm'd by'th' rest, and take it thankefully. +You are as welcome (worthy Sir) as I +Haue words to bid you, and shall finde it so +In all that I can do + + Iach. Thankes fairest Lady: +What are men mad? Hath Nature giuen them eyes +To see this vaulted Arch, and the rich Crop +Of Sea and Land, which can distinguish 'twixt +The firie Orbes aboue, and the twinn'd Stones +Vpon the number'd Beach, and can we not +Partition make with Spectacles so pretious +Twixt faire, and foule? + Imo. What makes your admiration? + Iach. It cannot be i'th' eye: for Apes, and Monkeys +'Twixt two such She's, would chatter this way, and +Contemne with mowes the other. Nor i'th' iudgment: +For Idiots in this case of fauour, would +Be wisely definit: Nor i'th' Appetite. +Sluttery to such neate Excellence, oppos'd +Should make desire vomit emptinesse, +Not so allur'd to feed + + Imo. What is the matter trow? + Iach. The Cloyed will: +That satiate yet vnsatisfi'd desire, that Tub +Both fill'd and running: Rauening first the Lambe, +Longs after for the Garbage + + Imo. What, deere Sir, +Thus rap's you? Are you well? + Iach. Thanks Madam well: Beseech you Sir, +Desire my Man's abode, where I did leaue him: +He's strange and peeuish + + Pisa. I was going Sir, +To giue him welcome. +Enter. + + Imo. Continues well my Lord? +His health beseech you? + Iach. Well, Madam + + Imo. Is he dispos'd to mirth? I hope he is + + Iach. Exceeding pleasant: none a stranger there, +So merry, and so gamesome: he is call'd +The Britaine Reueller + + Imo. When he was heere +He did incline to sadnesse, and oft times +Not knowing why + + Iach. I neuer saw him sad. +There is a Frenchman his Companion, one +An eminent Monsieur, that it seemes much loues +A Gallian-Girle at home. He furnaces +The thicke sighes from him; whiles the iolly Britaine, +(Your Lord I meane) laughes from's free lungs: cries oh, +Can my sides hold, to think that man who knowes +By History, Report, or his owne proofe +What woman is, yea what she cannot choose +But must be: will's free houres languish: +For assured bondage? + Imo. Will my Lord say so? + Iach. I Madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter, +It is a Recreation to be by +And heare him mocke the Frenchman: +But Heauen's know some men are much too blame + + Imo. Not he I hope + + Iach. Not he: +But yet Heauen's bounty towards him, might +Be vs'd more thankfully. In himselfe 'tis much; +In you, which I account his beyond all Talents. +Whil'st I am bound to wonder, I am bound +To pitty too + + Imo. What do you pitty Sir? + Iach. Two Creatures heartyly + + Imo. Am I one Sir? +You looke on me: what wrack discerne you in me +Deserues your pitty? + Iach. Lamentable: what +To hide me from the radiant Sun, and solace +I'th' Dungeon by a Snuffe + + Imo. I pray you Sir, +Deliuer with more opennesse your answeres +To my demands. Why do you pitty me? + Iach. That others do, +(I was about to say) enioy your- but +It is an office of the Gods to venge it, +Not mine to speake on't + + Imo. You do seeme to know +Something of me, or what concernes me; pray you +Since doubting things go ill, often hurts more +Then to be sure they do. For Certainties +Either are past remedies; or timely knowing, +The remedy then borne. Discouer to me +What both you spur and stop + + Iach. Had I this cheeke +To bathe my lips vpon: this hand, whose touch, +(Whose euery touch) would force the Feelers soule +To'th' oath of loyalty. This obiect, which +Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye, +Fiering it onely heere, should I (damn'd then) +Slauuer with lippes as common as the stayres +That mount the Capitoll: Ioyne gripes, with hands +Made hard with hourely falshood (falshood as +With labour:) then by peeping in an eye +Base and illustrious as the smoakie light +That's fed with stinking Tallow: it were fit +That all the plagues of Hell should at one time +Encounter such reuolt + + Imo. My Lord, I feare +Has forgot Brittaine + + Iach. And himselfe, not I +Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce +The Beggery of his change: but 'tis your Graces +That from my mutest Conscience, to my tongue, +Charmes this report out + + Imo. Let me heare no more + + Iach. O deerest Soule: your Cause doth strike my hart +With pitty, that doth make me sicke. A Lady +So faire, and fasten'd to an Emperie +Would make the great'st King double, to be partner'd +With Tomboyes hyr'd, with that selfe exhibition +Which your owne Coffers yeeld: with diseas'd ventures +That play with all Infirmities for Gold, +Which rottennesse can lend Nature. Such boyl'd stuffe +As well might poyson Poyson. Be reueng'd, +Or she that bore you, was no Queene, and you +Recoyle from your great Stocke + + Imo. Reueng'd: +How should I be reueng'd? If this be true, +(As I haue such a Heart, that both mine eares +Must not in haste abuse) if it be true, +How should I be reueng'd? + Iach. Should he make me +Liue like Diana's Priest, betwixt cold sheets, +Whiles he is vaulting variable Rampes +In your despight, vpon your purse: reuenge it. +I dedicate my selfe to your sweet pleasure, +More Noble then that runnagate to your bed, +And will continue fast to your Affection, +Still close, as sure + + Imo. What hoa, Pisanio? + Iach. Let me my seruice tender on your lippes + + Imo. Away, I do condemne mine eares, that haue +So long attended thee. If thou wert Honourable +Thou would'st haue told this tale for Vertue, not +For such an end thou seek'st, as base, as strange: +Thou wrong'st a Gentleman, who is as farre +From thy report, as thou from Honor: and +Solicites heere a Lady, that disdaines +Thee, and the Diuell alike. What hoa, Pisanio? +The King my Father shall be made acquainted +Of thy Assault: if he shall thinke it fit, +A sawcy Stranger in his Court, to Mart +As in a Romish Stew, and to expound +His beastly minde to vs; he hath a Court +He little cares for, and a Daughter, who +He not respects at all. What hoa, Pisanio? + Iach. O happy Leonatus I may say, +The credit that thy Lady hath of thee +Deserues thy trust, and thy most perfect goodnesse +Her assur'd credit. Blessed liue you long, +A Lady to the worthiest Sir, that euer +Country call'd his; and you his Mistris, onely +For the most worthiest fit. Giue me your pardon, +I haue spoke this to know if your Affiance +Were deeply rooted, and shall make your Lord, +That which he is, new o're: And he is one +The truest manner'd: such a holy Witch, +That he enchants Societies into him: +Halfe all men hearts are his + + Imo. You make amends + + Iach. He sits 'mongst men, like a defended God; +He hath a kinde of Honor sets him off, +More then a mortall seeming. Be not angrie +(Most mighty Princesse) that I haue aduentur'd +To try your taking of a false report, which hath +Honour'd with confirmation your great Iudgement, +In the election of a Sir, so rare, +Which you know, cannot erre. The loue I beare him, +Made me to fan you thus, but the Gods made you +(Vnlike all others) chaffelesse. Pray your pardon + + Imo. All's well Sir: +Take my powre i'th' Court for yours + + Iach. My humble thankes: I had almost forgot +T' intreat your Grace, but in a small request, +And yet of moment too, for it concernes: +Your Lord, my selfe, and other Noble Friends +Are partners in the businesse + + Imo. Pray what is't? + Iach. Some dozen Romanes of vs, and your Lord +(The best Feather of our wing) haue mingled summes +To buy a Present for the Emperor: +Which I (the Factor for the rest) haue done +In France: 'tis Plate of rare deuice, and Iewels +Of rich, and exquisite forme, their valewes great, +And I am something curious, being strange +To haue them in safe stowage: May it please you +To take them in protection + + Imo. Willingly: +And pawne mine Honor for their safety, since +My Lord hath interest in them, I will keepe them +In my Bed-chamber + + Iach. They are in a Trunke +Attended by my men: I will make bold +To send them to you, onely for this night: +I must aboord to morrow + + Imo. O no, no + + Iach. Yes I beseech: or I shall short my word +By length'ning my returne. From Gallia, +I crost the Seas on purpose, and on promise +To see your Grace + + Imo. I thanke you for your paines: +But not away to morrow + + Iach. O I must Madam. +Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please +To greet your Lord with writing, doo't to night, +I haue out-stood my time, which is materiall +To'th' tender of our Present + + Imo. I will write: +Send your Trunke to me, it shall safe be kept, +And truely yeelded you: you're very welcome. + +Exeunt. + + +Actus Secundus. Scena Prima. + +Enter Clotten, and the two Lords. + + Clot. Was there euer man had such lucke? when I kist +the Iacke vpon an vp-cast, to be hit away? I had a hundred +pound on't: and then a whorson Iacke-an-Apes, +must take me vp for swearing, as if I borrowed mine +oathes of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure + + 1. What got he by that? you haue broke his pate +with your Bowle + + 2. If his wit had bin like him that broke it: it would +haue run all out + + Clot. When a Gentleman is dispos'd to sweare: it is +not for any standers by to curtall his oathes. Ha? + 2. No my Lord; nor crop the eares of them + + Clot. Whorson dog: I gaue him satisfaction? would +he had bin one of my Ranke + + 2. To haue smell'd like a Foole + + Clot. I am not vext more at any thing in th' earth: a +pox on't I had rather not be so Noble as I am: they dare +not fight with me, because of the Queene my Mother: +euery Iacke-Slaue hath his belly full of Fighting, +and I must go vp and downe like a Cock, that no body +can match + + 2. You are Cocke and Capon too, and you crow +Cock, with your combe on + + Clot. Sayest thou? + 2. It is not fit your Lordship should vndertake euery +Companion, that you giue offence too + + Clot. No, I know that: but it is fit I should commit +offence to my inferiors + + 2. I, it is fit for your Lordship onely + + Clot. Why so I say + + 1. Did you heere of a Stranger that's come to Court +night? + Clot. A Stranger, and I not know on't? + 2. He's a strange Fellow himselfe, and knowes it not + + 1. There's an Italian come, and 'tis thought one of +Leonatus Friends + + Clot. Leonatus? A banisht Rascall; and he's another, +whatsoeuer he be. Who told you of this Stranger? + 1. One of your Lordships Pages + + Clot. Is it fit I went to looke vpon him? Is there no +derogation in't? + 2. You cannot derogate my Lord + + Clot. Not easily I thinke + + 2. You are a Foole graunted, therefore your Issues +being foolish do not derogate + + Clot. Come, Ile go see this Italian: what I haue lost +to day at Bowles, Ile winne to night of him. Come: go + + 2. Ile attend your Lordship. +Enter. + +That such a craftie Diuell as is his Mother +Should yeild the world this Asse: A woman, that +Beares all downe with her Braine, and this her Sonne, +Cannot take two from twenty for his heart, +And leaue eighteene. Alas poore Princesse, +Thou diuine Imogen, what thou endur'st, +Betwixt a Father by thy Step-dame gouern'd, +A Mother hourely coyning plots: A Wooer, +More hatefull then the foule expulsion is +Of thy deere Husband. Then that horrid Act +Of the diuorce, heel'd make the Heauens hold firme +The walls of thy deere Honour. Keepe vnshak'd +That Temple thy faire mind, that thou maist stand +T' enioy thy banish'd Lord: and this great Land. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Secunda. + +Enter Imogen, in her Bed, and a Lady. + + Imo. Who's there? My woman: Helene? + La. Please you Madam + + Imo. What houre is it? + Lady. Almost midnight, Madam + + Imo. I haue read three houres then: +Mine eyes are weake, +Fold downe the leafe where I haue left: to bed. +Take not away the Taper, leaue it burning: +And if thou canst awake by foure o'th' clock, +I prythee call me: Sleepe hath ceiz'd me wholly. +To your protection I commend me, Gods, +From Fayries, and the Tempters of the night, +Guard me beseech yee. + +Sleepes. + +Iachimo from the Trunke. + + Iach. The Crickets sing, and mans ore-labor'd sense +Repaires it selfe by rest: Our Tarquine thus +Did softly presse the Rushes, ere he waken'd +The Chastitie he wounded. Cytherea, +How brauely thou becom'st thy Bed; fresh Lilly, +And whiter then the Sheetes: that I might touch, +But kisse, one kisse. Rubies vnparagon'd, +How deerely they doo't: 'Tis her breathing that +Perfumes the Chamber thus: the Flame o'th' Taper +Bowes toward her, and would vnder-peepe her lids. +To see th' inclosed Lights, now Canopied +Vnder these windowes, White and Azure lac'd +With Blew of Heauens owne tinct. But my designe. +To note the Chamber, I will write all downe, + +Such, and such pictures: There the window, such +Th' adornement of her Bed; the Arras, Figures, +Why such, and such: and the Contents o'th' Story. +Ah, but some naturall notes about her Body, +Aboue ten thousand meaner Moueables +Would testifie, t' enrich mine Inuentorie. +O sleepe, thou Ape of death, lye dull vpon her, +And be her Sense but as a Monument, +Thus in a Chappell lying. Come off, come off; +As slippery as the Gordian-knot was hard. +'Tis mine, and this will witnesse outwardly, +As strongly as the Conscience do's within: +To'th' madding of her Lord. On her left brest +A mole Cinque-spotted: Like the Crimson drops +I'th' bottome of a Cowslippe. Heere's a Voucher, +Stronger then euer Law could make; this Secret +Will force him thinke I haue pick'd the lock, and t'ane +The treasure of her Honour. No more: to what end? +Why should I write this downe, that's riueted, +Screw'd to my memorie. She hath bin reading late, +The Tale of Tereus, heere the leaffe's turn'd downe +Where Philomele gaue vp. I haue enough, +To'th' Truncke againe, and shut the spring of it. +Swift, swift, you Dragons of the night, that dawning +May beare the Rauens eye: I lodge in feare, +Though this a heauenly Angell: hell is heere. + +Clocke strikes + +One, two, three: time, time. +Enter. + + +Scena Tertia. + +Enter Clotten, and Lords. + + 1. Your Lordship is the most patient man in losse, the +most coldest that euer turn'd vp Ace + + Clot. It would make any man cold to loose + + 1. But not euery man patient after the noble temper +of your Lordship; You are most hot, and furious when +you winne. +Winning will put any man into courage: if I could get +this foolish Imogen, I should haue Gold enough: it's almost +morning, is't not? + 1 Day, my Lord + + Clot. I would this Musicke would come: I am aduised +to giue her Musicke a mornings, they say it will penetrate. +Enter Musitians. + +Come on, tune: If you can penetrate her with your fingering, +so: wee'l try with tongue too: if none will do, let +her remaine: but Ile neuer giue o're. First, a very excellent +good conceyted thing; after a wonderful sweet aire, +with admirable rich words to it, and then let her consider. + +SONG. + +Hearke, hearke, the Larke at Heauens gate sings, +and Phoebus gins arise, +His Steeds to water at those Springs +on chalic'd Flowres that lyes: +And winking Mary-buds begin to ope their Golden eyes +With euery thing that pretty is, my Lady sweet arise: +Arise, arise. +So, get you gone: if this penetrate, I will consider your +Musicke the better: if it do not, it is a voyce in her eares +which Horse-haires, and Calues-guts, nor the voyce of +vnpaued Eunuch to boot, can neuer amend. +Enter Cymbaline, and Queene. + + 2 Heere comes the King + + Clot. I am glad I was vp so late, for that's the reason +I was vp so earely: he cannot choose but take this Seruice +I haue done, fatherly. Good morrow to your Maiesty, +and to my gracious Mother + + Cym. Attend you here the doore of our stern daughter +Will she not forth? + Clot. I haue assayl'd her with Musickes, but she vouchsafes +no notice + + Cym. The Exile of her Minion is too new, +She hath not yet forgot him, some more time +Must weare the print of his remembrance on't, +And then she's yours + + Qu. You are most bound to'th' King, +Who let's go by no vantages, that may +Preferre you to his daughter: Frame your selfe +To orderly solicity, and be friended +With aptnesse of the season: make denials +Encrease your Seruices: so seeme, as if +You were inspir'd to do those duties which +You tender to her: that you in all obey her, +Saue when command to your dismission tends, +And therein you are senselesse + + Clot. Senselesse? Not so + + Mes. So like you (Sir) Ambassadors from Rome; +The one is Caius Lucius + + Cym. A worthy Fellow, +Albeit he comes on angry purpose now; +But that's no fault of his: we must receyue him +According to the Honor of his Sender, +And towards himselfe, his goodnesse fore-spent on vs +We must extend our notice: Our deere Sonne, +When you haue giuen good morning to your Mistris, +Attend the Queene, and vs, we shall haue neede +T' employ you towards this Romane. +Come our Queene. + +Exeunt. + + Clot. If she be vp, Ile speake with her: if not +Let her lye still, and dreame: by your leaue hoa, +I know her women are about her: what +If I do line one of their hands, 'tis Gold +Which buyes admittance (oft it doth) yea, and makes +Diana's Rangers false themselues, yeeld vp +Their Deere to'th' stand o'th' Stealer: and 'tis Gold +Which makes the True-man kill'd, and saues the Theefe: +Nay, sometime hangs both Theefe, and True-man: what +Can it not do, and vndoo? I will make +One of her women Lawyer to me, for +I yet not vnderstand the case my selfe. +By your leaue. + +Knockes. + +Enter a Lady. + + La. Who's there that knockes? + Clot. A Gentleman + + La. No more + + Clot. Yes, and a Gentlewomans Sonne + + La. That's more +Then some whose Taylors are as deere as yours, +Can iustly boast of: what's your Lordships pleasure? + Clot. Your Ladies person, is she ready? + La. I, to keepe her Chamber + + Clot. There is Gold for you, +Sell me your good report + + La. How, my good name? or to report of you +What I shall thinke is good. The Princesse. +Enter Imogen. + + Clot. Good morrow fairest, Sister your sweet hand + + Imo. Good morrow Sir, you lay out too much paines +For purchasing but trouble: the thankes I giue, +Is telling you that I am poore of thankes, +And scarse can spare them + + Clot. Still I sweare I loue you + + Imo. If you but said so, 'twere as deepe with me: +If you sweare still, your recompence is still +That I regard it not + + Clot. This is no answer + + Imo. But that you shall not say, I yeeld being silent, +I would not speake. I pray you spare me, 'faith +I shall vnfold equall discourtesie +To your best kindnesse: one of your great knowing +Should learne (being taught) forbearance + + Clot. To leaue you in your madnesse, 'twere my sin, +I will not + + Imo. Fooles are not mad Folkes + + Clot. Do you call me Foole? + Imo. As I am mad I do: +If you'l be patient, Ile no more be mad, +That cures vs both. I am much sorry (Sir) +You put me to forget a Ladies manners +By being so verball: and learne now, for all, +That I which know my heart, do heere pronounce +By th' very truth of it, I care not for you, +And am so neere the lacke of Charitie +To accuse my selfe, I hate you: which I had rather +You felt, then make't my boast + + Clot. You sinne against +Obedience, which you owe your Father, for +The Contract you pretend with that base Wretch, +One, bred of Almes, and foster'd with cold dishes, +With scraps o'th' Court: It is no Contract, none; +And though it be allowed in meaner parties +(Yet who then he more meane) to knit their soules +(On whom there is no more dependancie +But Brats and Beggery) in selfe-figur'd knot, +Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement, by +The consequence o'th' Crowne, and must not foyle +The precious note of it; with a base Slaue, +A Hilding for a Liuorie, a Squires Cloth, +A Pantler; not so eminent + + Imo. Prophane Fellow: +Wert thou the Sonne of Iupiter, and no more, +But what thou art besides: thou wer't too base, +To be his Groome: thou wer't dignified enough +Euen to the point of Enuie. If 'twere made +Comparatiue for your Vertues, to be stil'd +The vnder Hangman of his Kingdome; and hated +For being prefer'd so well + + Clot. The South-Fog rot him + + Imo. He neuer can meete more mischance, then come +To be but nam'd of thee. His mean'st Garment +That euer hath but clipt his body; is dearer +In my respect, then all the Heires aboue thee, +Were they all made such men: How now Pisanio? +Enter Pisanio. + + Clot. His Garments? Now the diuell + + Imo. To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently + + Clot. His Garment? + Imo. I am sprighted with a Foole, +Frighted, and angred worse: Go bid my woman +Search for a Iewell, that too casually +Hath left mine Arme: it was thy Masters. Shrew me +If I would loose it for a Reuenew, +Of any Kings in Europe. I do think, +I saw't this morning: Confident I am. +Last night 'twas on mine Arme; I kiss'd it, +I hope it be not gone, to tell my Lord +That I kisse aught but he + + Pis. 'Twill not be lost + + Imo. I hope so: go and search + + Clot. You haue abus'd me: +His meanest Garment? + Imo. I, I said so Sir, +If you will make't an Action, call witnesse to't + + Clot. I will enforme your Father + + Imo. Your Mother too: +She's my good Lady; and will concieue, I hope +But the worst of me. So I leaue you Sir, +To'th' worst of discontent. +Enter. + + Clot. Ile be reueng'd: +His mean'st Garment? Well. +Enter. + + +Scena Quarta. + +Enter Posthumus, and Philario. + + Post. Feare it not Sir: I would I were so sure +To winne the King, as I am bold, her Honour +Will remaine her's + + Phil. What meanes do you make to him? + Post. Not any: but abide the change of Time, +Quake in the present winters state, and wish +That warmer dayes would come: In these fear'd hope +I barely gratifie your loue; they fayling +I must die much your debtor + + Phil. Your very goodnesse, and your company, +Ore-payes all I can do. By this your King, +Hath heard of Great Augustus: Caius Lucius, +Will do's Commission throughly. And I think +Hee'le grant the Tribute: send th' Arrerages, +Or looke vpon our Romaines, whose remembrance +Is yet fresh in their griefe + + Post. I do beleeue +(Statist though I am none, nor like to be) +That this will proue a Warre; and you shall heare +The Legion now in Gallia, sooner landed +In our not-fearing-Britaine, then haue tydings +Of any penny Tribute paid. Our Countrymen +Are men more order'd, then when Iulius Caesar +Smil'd at their lacke of skill, but found their courage +Worthy his frowning at. Their discipline, +(Now wing-led with their courages) will make knowne +To their Approuers, they are People, such +That mend vpon the world. +Enter Iachimo. + + Phi. See Iachimo + + Post. The swiftest Harts, haue posted you by land; +And Windes of all the Corners kiss'd your Sailes, +To make your vessell nimble + + Phil. Welcome Sir + + Post. I hope the briefenesse of your answere, made +The speedinesse of your returne + + Iachi. Your Lady, +Is one of the fayrest that I haue look'd vpon + Post. And therewithall the best, or let her beauty +Looke thorough a Casement to allure false hearts, +And be false with them + + Iachi. Heere are Letters for you + + Post. Their tenure good I trust + + Iach. 'Tis very like + + Post. Was Caius Lucius in the Britaine Court, +When you were there? + Iach. He was expected then, +But not approach'd + + Post. All is well yet, +Sparkles this Stone as it was wont, or is't not +Too dull for your good wearing? + Iach. If I haue lost it, +I should haue lost the worth of it in Gold, +Ile make a iourney twice as farre, t' enioy +A second night of such sweet shortnesse, which +Was mine in Britaine, for the Ring is wonne + + Post. The Stones too hard to come by + + Iach. Not a whit, +Your Lady being so easy + + Post. Make note Sir +Your losse, your Sport: I hope you know that we +Must not continue Friends + + Iach. Good Sir, we must +If you keepe Couenant: had I not brought +The knowledge of your Mistris home, I grant +We were to question farther; but I now +Professe my selfe the winner of her Honor, +Together with your Ring; and not the wronger +Of her, or you hauing proceeded but +By both your willes + + Post. If you can mak't apparant +That you haue tasted her in Bed; my hand, +And Ring is yours. If not, the foule opinion +You had of her pure Honour; gaines, or looses, +Your Sword, or mine, or Masterlesse leaue both +To who shall finde them + + Iach. Sir, my Circumstances +Being so nere the Truth, as I will make them, +Must first induce you to beleeue; whose strength +I will confirme with oath, which I doubt not +You'l giue me leaue to spare, when you shall finde +You neede it not + + Post. Proceed + + Iach. First, her Bed-chamber +(Where I confesse I slept not, but professe +Had that was well worth watching) it was hang'd +With Tapistry of Silke, and Siluer, the Story +Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman, +And Sidnus swell'd aboue the Bankes, or for +The presse of Boates, or Pride. A peece of Worke +So brauely done, so rich, that it did striue +In Workemanship, and Value, which I wonder'd +Could be so rarely, and exactly wrought +Since the true life on't was- + Post. This is true: +And this you might haue heard of heere, by me, +Or by some other + + Iach. More particulars +Must iustifie my knowledge + + Post. So they must, +Or doe your Honour iniury + + Iach. The Chimney +Is South the Chamber, and the Chimney-peece +Chaste Dian, bathing: neuer saw I figures +So likely to report themselues; the Cutter +Was as another Nature dumbe, out-went her, +Motion, and Breath left out + + Post. This is a thing +Which you might from Relation likewise reape, +Being, as it is, much spoke of + + Iach. The Roofe o'th' Chamber, +With golden Cherubins is fretted. Her Andirons +(I had forgot them) were two winking Cupids +Of Siluer, each on one foote standing, nicely +Depending on their Brands + + Post. This is her Honor: +Let it be granted you haue seene all this (and praise +Be giuen to your remembrance) the description +Of what is in her Chamber, nothing saues +The wager you haue laid + + Iach. Then if you can +Be pale, I begge but leaue to ayre this Iewell: See, +And now 'tis vp againe: it must be married +To that your Diamond, Ile keepe them + + Post. Ioue- +Once more let me behold it: Is it that +Which I left with her? + Iach. Sir (I thanke her) that +She stript it from her Arme: I see her yet: +Her pretty Action, did out-sell her guift, +And yet enrich'd it too: she gaue it me, +And said, she priz'd it once + + Post. May be, she pluck'd it off +To send it me + + Iach. She writes so to you? doth shee? + Post. O no, no, no, 'tis true. Heere, take this too, +It is a Basiliske vnto mine eye, +Killes me to looke on't: Let there be no Honor, +Where there is Beauty: Truth, where semblance: Loue, +Where there's another man. The Vowes of Women, +Of no more bondage be, to where they are made, +Then they are to their Vertues, which is nothing: +O, aboue measure false + + Phil. Haue patience Sir, +And take your Ring againe, 'tis not yet wonne: +It may be probable she lost it: or +Who knowes if one her women, being corrupted +Hath stolne it from her + + Post. Very true, +And so I hope he came by't: backe my Ring, +Render to me some corporall signe about her +More euident then this: for this was stolne + + Iach. By Iupiter, I had it from her Arme + + Post. Hearke you, he sweares: by Iupiter he sweares. +'Tis true, nay keepe the Ring; 'tis true: I am sure +She would not loose it: her Attendants are +All sworne, and honourable: they induc'd to steale it? +And by a Stranger? No, he hath enioy'd her, +The Cognisance of her incontinencie +Is this: she hath bought the name of Whore, thus deerly +There, take thy hyre, and all the Fiends of Hell +Diuide themselues betweene you + + Phil. Sir, be patient: +This is not strong enough to be beleeu'd +Of one perswaded well of + + Post. Neuer talke on't: +She hath bin colted by him + + Iach. If you seeke +For further satisfying, vnder her Breast +(Worthy her pressing) lyes a Mole, right proud +Of that most delicate Lodging. By my life +I kist it, and it gaue me present hunger +To feede againe, though full. You do remember +This staine vpon her? + Post. I, and it doth confirme +Another staine, as bigge as Hell can hold, +Were there no more but it + + Iach. Will you heare more? + Post. Spare your Arethmaticke, +Neuer count the Turnes: Once, and a Million + + Iach. Ile be sworne + + Post. No swearing: +If you will sweare you haue not done't, you lye, +And I will kill thee, if thou do'st deny +Thou'st made me Cuckold + + Iach. Ile deny nothing + + Post. O that I had her heere, to teare her Limb-meale: +I will go there and doo't, i'th' Court, before +Her Father. Ile do something. +Enter. + + Phil. Quite besides +The gouernment of Patience. You haue wonne: +Let's follow him, and peruert the present wrath +He hath against himselfe + + Iach. With all my heart. + +Exeunt. + +Enter Posthumus. + + Post. Is there no way for Men to be, but Women +Must be halfe-workers? We are all Bastards, +And that most venerable man, which I +Did call my Father, was, I know not where +When I was stampt. Some Coyner with his Tooles +Made me a counterfeit: yet my Mother seem'd +The Dian of that time: so doth my Wife +The Non-pareill of this. Oh Vengeance, Vengeance! +Me of my lawfull pleasure she restrain'd, +And pray'd me oft forbearance: did it with +A pudencie so Rosie, the sweet view on't +Might well haue warm'd olde Saturne; +That I thought her +As Chaste, as vn-Sunn'd Snow. Oh, all the Diuels! +This yellow Iachimo in an houre, was't not? +Or lesse; at first? Perchance he spoke not, but +Like a full Acorn'd Boare, a Iarmen on, +Cry'de oh, and mounted; found no opposition +But what he look'd for, should oppose, and she +Should from encounter guard. Could I finde out +The Womans part in me, for there's no motion +That tends to vice in man, but I affirme +It is the Womans part: be it Lying, note it, +The womans: Flattering, hers; Deceiuing, hers: +Lust, and ranke thoughts, hers, hers: Reuenges hers: +Ambitions, Couetings, change of Prides, Disdaine, +Nice-longing, Slanders, Mutability; +All Faults that name, nay, that Hell knowes, +Why hers, in part, or all: but rather all. For euen to Vice +They are not constant, but are changing still; +One Vice, but of a minute old, for one +Not halfe so old as that. Ile write against them, +Detest them, curse them: yet 'tis greater Skill +In a true Hate, to pray they haue their will: +The very Diuels cannot plague them better. +Enter. + + +Actus Tertius. Scena Prima. + +Enter in State, Cymbeline, Queene, Clotten, and Lords at one +doore, and at +another, Caius, Lucius; and Attendants. + + Cym. Now say, what would Augustus Caesar with vs? + Luc. When Iulius Caesar (whose remembrance yet +Liues in mens eyes, and will to Eares and Tongues +Be Theame, and hearing euer) was in this Britain, +And Conquer'd it, Cassibulan thine Vnkle +(Famous in Caesars prayses, no whit lesse +Then in his Feats deseruing it) for him, +And his Succession, granted Rome a Tribute, +Yeerely three thousand pounds; which (by thee) lately +Is left vntender'd + + Qu. And to kill the meruaile, +Shall be so euer + + Clot. There be many Caesars, +Ere such another Iulius: Britaine's a world +By it selfe, and we will nothing pay +For wearing our owne Noses + + Qu. That opportunity +Which then they had to take from's, to resume +We haue againe. Remember Sir, my Liege, +The Kings your Ancestors, together with +The naturall brauery of your Isle, which stands +As Neptunes Parke, ribb'd, and pal'd in +With Oakes vnskaleable, and roaring Waters, +With Sands that will not beare your Enemies Boates, +But sucke them vp to'th' Top-mast. A kinde of Conquest +Caesar made heere, but made not heere his bragge +Of Came, and Saw, and Ouer-came: with shame +(The first that euer touch'd him) he was carried +From off our Coast, twice beaten: and his Shipping +(Poore ignorant Baubles) on our terrible Seas +Like Egge-shels mou'd vpon their Surges, crack'd +As easily 'gainst our Rockes. For ioy whereof, +The fam'd Cassibulan, who was once at point +(Oh giglet Fortune) to master Caesars Sword, +Made Luds-Towne with reioycing-Fires bright, +And Britaines strut with Courage + + Clot. Come, there's no more Tribute to be paid: our +Kingdome is stronger then it was at that time: and (as I +said) there is no mo such Caesars, other of them may haue +crook'd Noses, but to owe such straite Armes, none + + Cym. Son, let your Mother end + + Clot. We haue yet many among vs, can gripe as hard +as Cassibulan, I doe not say I am one: but I haue a hand. +Why Tribute? Why should we pay Tribute? If Caesar +can hide the Sun from vs with a Blanket, or put the Moon +in his pocket, we will pay him Tribute for light: else Sir, +no more Tribute, pray you now + + Cym. You must know, +Till the iniurious Romans, did extort +This Tribute from vs, we were free. Caesars Ambition, +Which swell'd so much, that it did almost stretch +The sides o'th' World, against all colour heere, +Did put the yoake vpon's; which to shake off +Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon +Our selues to be, we do. Say then to Caesar, +Our Ancestor was that Mulmutius, which +Ordain'd our Lawes, whose vse the Sword of Caesar +Hath too much mangled; whose repayre, and franchise, +Shall (by the power we hold) be our good deed, +Tho Rome be therfore angry. Mulmutius made our lawes +Who was the first of Britaine, which did put +His browes within a golden Crowne, and call'd +Himselfe a King + + Luc. I am sorry Cymbeline, +That I am to pronounce Augustus Caesar +(Caesar, that hath moe Kings his Seruants, then +Thy selfe Domesticke Officers) thine Enemy: +Receyue it from me then. Warre, and Confusion +In Caesars name pronounce I 'gainst thee: Looke +For fury, not to be resisted. Thus defide, +I thanke thee for my selfe + + Cym. Thou art welcome Caius, +Thy Caesar Knighted me; my youth I spent +Much vnder him; of him, I gather'd Honour, +Which he, to seeke of me againe, perforce, +Behooues me keepe at vtterance. I am perfect, +That the Pannonians and Dalmatians, for +Their Liberties are now in Armes: a President +Which not to reade, would shew the Britaines cold: +So Caesar shall not finde them + + Luc. Let proofe speake + + Clot. His Maiesty biddes you welcome. Make pastime +with vs, a day, or two, or longer: if you seek vs afterwards +in other tearmes, you shall finde vs in our Saltwater-Girdle: +if you beate vs out of it, it is yours: if you +fall in the aduenture, our Crowes shall fare the better for +you: and there's an end + + Luc. So sir + + Cym. I know your Masters pleasure, and he mine: +All the Remaine, is welcome. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Secunda. + +Enter Pisanio reading of a Letter. + + Pis. How? of Adultery? Wherefore write you not +What Monsters her accuse? Leonatus: +Oh Master, what a strange infection +Is falne into thy eare? What false Italian, +(As poysonous tongu'd, as handed) hath preuail'd +On thy too ready hearing? Disloyall? No. +She's punish'd for her Truth; and vndergoes +More Goddesse-like, then Wife-like; such Assaults +As would take in some Vertue. Oh my Master, +Thy mind to her, is now as lowe, as were +Thy Fortunes. How? That I should murther her, +Vpon the Loue, and Truth, and Vowes; which I +Haue made to thy command? I her? Her blood? +If it be so, to do good seruice, neuer +Let me be counted seruiceable. How looke I, +That I should seeme to lacke humanity, +So much as this Fact comes to? Doo't: The Letter. +That I haue sent her, by her owne command, +Shall giue thee opportunitie. Oh damn'd paper, +Blacke as the Inke that's on thee: senselesse bauble, +Art thou a Foedarie for this Act; and look'st +So Virgin-like without? Loe here she comes. +Enter Imogen. + +I am ignorant in what I am commanded + + Imo. How now Pisanio? + Pis. Madam, heere is a Letter from my Lord + + Imo. Who, thy Lord? That is my Lord Leonatus? +Oh, learn'd indeed were that Astronomer +That knew the Starres, as I his Characters, +Heel'd lay the Future open. You good Gods, +Let what is heere contain'd, rellish of Loue, +Of my Lords health, of his content: yet not +That we two are asunder, let that grieue him; +Some griefes are medcinable, that is one of them, +For it doth physicke Loue, of his content, +All but in that. Good Wax, thy leaue: blest be +You Bees that make these Lockes of counsaile. Louers, +And men in dangerous Bondes pray not alike, +Though Forfeytours you cast in prison, yet +You claspe young Cupids Tables: good Newes Gods. +Iustice and your Fathers wrath (should he take me in his +Dominion) could not be so cruell to me, as you: (oh the deerest +of Creatures) would euen renew me with your eyes. Take +notice that I am in Cambria at Milford-Hauen: what your +owne Loue, will out of this aduise you, follow. So he wishes you +all happinesse, that remaines loyall to his Vow, and your +encreasing +in Loue. Leonatus Posthumus. +Oh for a Horse with wings: Hear'st thou Pisanio? +He is at Milford-Hauen: Read, and tell me +How farre 'tis thither. If one of meane affaires +May plod it in a weeke, why may not I +Glide thither in a day? Then true Pisanio, +Who long'st like me, to see thy Lord; who long'st +(Oh let me bate) but not like me: yet long'st +But in a fainter kinde. Oh not like me: +For mine's beyond, beyond: say, and speake thicke +(Loues Counsailor should fill the bores of hearing, +To'th' smothering of the Sense) how farre it is +To this same blessed Milford. And by'th' way +Tell me how Wales was made so happy, as +T' inherite such a Hauen. But first of all, +How we may steale from hence: and for the gap +That we shall make in Time, from our hence-going, +And our returne, to excuse: but first, how get hence. +Why should excuse be borne or ere begot? +Weele talke of that heereafter. Prythee speake, +How many store of Miles may we well rid +Twixt houre, and houre? + Pis. One score 'twixt Sun, and Sun, +Madam's enough for you: and too much too + + Imo. Why, one that rode to's Execution Man, +Could neuer go so slow: I haue heard of Riding wagers, +Where Horses haue bin nimbler then the Sands +That run i'th' Clocks behalfe. But this is Foolrie, +Go, bid my Woman faigne a Sicknesse, say +She'le home to her Father; and prouide me presently +A Riding Suit: No costlier then would fit +A Franklins Huswife + + Pisa. Madam, you're best consider + + Imo. I see before me (Man) nor heere, nor heere; +Nor what ensues but haue a Fog in them +That I cannot looke through. Away, I prythee, +Do as I bid thee: There's no more to say: +Accessible is none but Milford way. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Tertia. + +Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Aruiragus. + + Bel. A goodly day, not to keepe house with such, +Whose Roofe's as lowe as ours: Sleepe Boyes, this gate +Instructs you how t' adore the Heauens; and bowes you +To a mornings holy office. The Gates of Monarches +Are Arch'd so high, that Giants may iet through +And keepe their impious Turbonds on, without +Good morrow to the Sun. Haile thou faire Heauen, +We house i'th' Rocke, yet vse thee not so hardly +As prouder liuers do + + Guid. Haile Heauen + + Aruir. Haile Heauen + + Bela. Now for our Mountaine sport, vp to yond hill +Your legges are yong: Ile tread these Flats. Consider, +When you aboue perceiue me like a Crow, +That it is Place, which lessen's, and sets off, +And you may then reuolue what Tales, I haue told you, +Of Courts, of Princes; of the Tricks in Warre. +This Seruice, is not Seruice; so being done, +But being so allowed. To apprehend thus, +Drawes vs a profit from all things we see: +And often to our comfort, shall we finde +The sharded-Beetle, in a safer hold +Then is the full-wing'd Eagle. Oh this life, +Is Nobler, then attending for a checke: +Richer, then doing nothing for a Babe: +Prouder, then rustling in vnpayd-for Silke: +Such gaine the Cap of him, that makes him fine, +Yet keepes his Booke vncros'd: no life to ours + + Gui. Out of your proofe you speak: we poore vnfledg'd +Haue neuer wing'd from view o'th' nest; nor knowes not +What Ayre's from home. Hap'ly this life is best, +(If quiet life be best) sweeter to you +That haue a sharper knowne. Well corresponding +With your stiffe Age; but vnto vs, it is +A Cell of Ignorance: trauailing a bed, +A Prison, or a Debtor, that not dares +To stride a limit + + Arui. What should we speake of +When we are old as you? When we shall heare +The Raine and winde beate darke December? How +In this our pinching Caue, shall we discourse +The freezing houres away? We haue seene nothing: +We are beastly; subtle as the Fox for prey, +Like warlike as the Wolfe, for what we eate: +Our Valour is to chace what flyes: Our Cage +We make a Quire, as doth the prison'd Bird, +And sing our Bondage freely + + Bel. How you speake. +Did you but know the Citties Vsuries, +And felt them knowingly: the Art o'th' Court, +As hard to leaue, as keepe: whose top to climbe +Is certaine falling: or so slipp'ry, that +The feare's as bad as falling. The toyle o'th' Warre, +A paine that onely seemes to seeke out danger +I'th' name of Fame, and Honor, which dyes i'th' search, +And hath as oft a sland'rous Epitaph, +As Record of faire Act. Nay, many times +Doth ill deserue, by doing well: what's worse +Must curt'sie at the Censure. Oh Boyes, this Storie +The World may reade in me: My bodie's mark'd +With Roman Swords; and my report, was once +First, with the best of Note. Cymbeline lou'd me, +And when a Souldier was the Theame, my name +Was not farre off: then was I as a Tree +Whose boughes did bend with fruit. But in one night, +A Storme, or Robbery (call it what you will) +Shooke downe my mellow hangings: nay my Leaues, +And left me bare to weather + + Gui. Vncertaine fauour + + Bel. My fault being nothing (as I haue told you oft) +But that two Villaines, whose false Oathes preuayl'd +Before my perfect Honor, swore to Cymbeline, +I was Confederate with the Romanes: so +Followed my Banishment, and this twenty yeeres, +This Rocke, and these Demesnes, haue bene my World, +Where I haue liu'd at honest freedome, payed +More pious debts to Heauen, then in all +The fore-end of my time. But, vp to'th' Mountaines, +This is not Hunters Language; he that strikes +The Venison first, shall be the Lord o'th' Feast, +To him the other two shall minister, +And we will feare no poyson, which attends +In place of greater State: +Ile meete you in the Valleyes. + +Exeunt. + +How hard it is to hide the sparkes of Nature? +These Boyes know little they are Sonnes to'th' King, +Nor Cymbeline dreames that they are aliue. +They thinke they are mine, +And though train'd vp thus meanely +I'th' Caue, whereon the Bowe their thoughts do hit, +The Roofes of Palaces, and Nature prompts them +In simple and lowe things, to Prince it, much +Beyond the tricke of others. This Paladour, +The heyre of Cymbeline and Britaine, who +The King his Father call'd Guiderius. Ioue, +When on my three-foot stoole I sit, and tell +The warlike feats I haue done, his spirits flye out +Into my Story: say thus mine Enemy fell, +And thus I set my foote on's necke, euen then +The Princely blood flowes in his Cheeke, he sweats, +Straines his yong Nerues, and puts himselfe in posture +That acts my words. The yonger Brother Cadwall, +Once Aruiragus, in as like a figure +Strikes life into my speech, and shewes much more +His owne conceyuing. Hearke, the Game is rows'd, +Oh Cymbeline, Heauen and my Conscience knowes +Thou didd'st vniustly banish me: whereon +At three, and two yeeres old, I stole these Babes, +Thinking to barre thee of Succession, as +Thou refts me of my Lands. Euriphile, +Thou was't their Nurse, they took thee for their mother, +And euery day do honor to her graue: +My selfe Belarius, that am Mergan call'd +They take for Naturall Father. The Game is vp. +Enter. + + +Scena Quarta. + +Enter Pisanio and Imogen. + + Imo. Thou told'st me when we came fro[m] horse, y place +Was neere at hand: Ne're long'd my Mother so +To see me first, as I haue now. Pisanio, Man: +Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind +That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that sigh +From th' inward of thee? One, but painted thus +Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd +Beyond selfe-explication. Put thy selfe +Into a hauiour of lesse feare, ere wildnesse +Vanquish my stayder Senses. What's the matter? +Why render'st thou that Paper to me, with +A looke vntender? If't be Summer Newes +Smile too't before: if Winterly, thou need'st +But keepe that count'nance stil. My Husbands hand? +That Drug-damn'd Italy, hath out-craftied him, +And hee's at some hard point. Speake man, thy Tongue +May take off some extreamitie, which to reade +Would be euen mortall to me + + Pis. Please you reade, +And you shall finde me (wretched man) a thing +The most disdain'd of Fortune + + Imogen reades. Thy Mistris (Pisanio) hath plaide the Strumpet in +my +Bed: the Testimonies whereof, lyes bleeding in me. I speak +not out of weake Surmises, but from proofe as strong as my +greefe, and as certaine as I expect my Reuenge. That part, thou +(Pisanio) must acte for me, if thy Faith be not tainted with the +breach of hers; let thine owne hands take away her life: I shall +giue thee opportunity at Milford Hauen. She hath my Letter +for the purpose; where, if thou feare to strike, and to make mee +certaine it is done, thou art the Pander to her dishonour, and +equally to me disloyall + + Pis. What shall I need to draw my Sword, the Paper +Hath cut her throat alreadie? No, 'tis Slander, +Whose edge is sharper then the Sword, whose tongue +Out-venomes all the Wormes of Nyle, whose breath +Rides on the posting windes, and doth belye +All corners of the World. Kings, Queenes, and States, +Maides, Matrons, nay the Secrets of the Graue +This viperous slander enters. What cheere, Madam? + Imo. False to his Bed? What is it to be false? +To lye in watch there, and to thinke on him? +To weepe 'twixt clock and clock? If sleep charge Nature, +To breake it with a fearfull dreame of him, +And cry my selfe awake? That's false to's bed? Is it? + Pisa. Alas good Lady + + Imo. I false? Thy Conscience witnesse: Iachimo, +Thou didd'st accuse him of Incontinencie, +Thou then look'dst like a Villaine: now, me thinkes +Thy fauours good enough. Some Iay of Italy +(Whose mother was her painting) hath betraid him: +Poore I am stale, a Garment out of fashion, +And for I am richer then to hang by th' walles, +I must be ript: To peeces with me: Oh! +Mens Vowes are womens Traitors. All good seeming +By thy reuolt (oh Husband) shall be thought +Put on for Villainy; not borne where't growes, +But worne a Baite for Ladies + + Pisa. Good Madam, heare me + + Imo. True honest men being heard, like false Aeneas, +Were in his time thought false: and Synons weeping +Did scandall many a holy teare: tooke pitty +From most true wretchednesse. So thou, Posthumus +Wilt lay the Leauen on all proper men; +Goodly, and gallant, shall be false and periur'd +From thy great faile: Come Fellow, be thou honest, +Do thou thy Masters bidding. When thou seest him, +A little witnesse my obedience. Looke +I draw the Sword my selfe, take it, and hit +The innocent Mansion of my Loue (my Heart:) +Feare not, 'tis empty of all things, but Greefe: +Thy Master is not there, who was indeede +The riches of it. Do his bidding, strike, +Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause; +But now thou seem'st a Coward + + Pis. Hence vile Instrument, +Thou shalt not damne my hand + + Imo. Why, I must dye: +And if I do not by thy hand, thou art +No Seruant of thy Masters. Against Selfe-slaughter, +There is a prohibition so Diuine, +That crauens my weake hand: Come, heere's my heart: +Something's a-foot: Soft, soft, wee'l no defence, +Obedient as the Scabbard. What is heere, +The Scriptures of the Loyall Leonatus, +All turn'd to Heresie? Away, away +Corrupters of my Faith, you shall no more +Be Stomachers to my heart: thus may pooru Fooles +Beleeue false Teachers: Though those that are betraid +Do feele the Treason sharpely, yet the Traitor +Stands in worse case of woe. And thou Posthumus, +That didd'st set vp my disobedience 'gainst the King +My Father, and makes me put into contempt the suites +Of Princely Fellowes, shalt heereafter finde +It is no acte of common passage, but +A straine of Rarenesse: and I greeue my selfe, +To thinke, when thou shalt be disedg'd by her, +That now thou tyrest on, how thy memory +Will then be pang'd by me. Prythee dispatch, +The Lambe entreats the Butcher. Wher's thy knife? +Thou art too slow to do thy Masters bidding +When I desire it too + + Pis. Oh gracious Lady: +Since I receiu'd command to do this businesse, +I haue not slept one winke + + Imo. Doo't, and to bed then + + Pis. Ile wake mine eye-balles first + + Imo. Wherefore then +Didd'st vndertake it? Why hast thou abus'd +So many Miles, with a pretence? This place? +Mine Action? and thine owne? Our Horses labour? +The Time inuiting thee? The perturb'd Court +For my being absent? whereunto I neuer +Purpose returne. Why hast thou gone so farre +To be vn-bent? when thou hast 'tane thy stand, +Th' elected Deere before thee? + Pis. But to win time +To loose so bad employment, in the which +I haue consider'd of a course: good Ladie +Heare me with patience + + Imo. Talke thy tongue weary, speake: +I haue heard I am a Strumpet, and mine eare +Therein false strooke, can take no greater wound, +Nor tent, to bottome that. But speake + + Pis. Then Madam, +I thought you would not backe againe + + Imo. Most like, +Bringing me heere to kill me + + Pis. Not so neither: +But if I were as wise, as honest, then +My purpose would proue well: it cannot be, +But that my Master is abus'd. Some Villaine, +I, and singular in his Art, hath done you both +This cursed iniurie + + Imo. Some Roman Curtezan? + Pisa. No, on my life: +Ile giue but notice you are dead, and send him +Some bloody signe of it. For 'tis commanded +I should do so: you shall be mist at Court, +And that will well confirme it + + Imo. Why good Fellow, +What shall I do the while? Where bide? How liue? +Or in my life, what comfort, when I am +Dead to my Husband? + Pis. If you'l backe to'th' Court + + Imo. No Court, no Father, nor no more adoe +With that harsh, noble, simple nothing: +That Clotten, whose Loue-suite hath bene to me +As fearefull as a Siege + + Pis. If not at Court, +Then not in Britaine must you bide + + Imo. Where then? +Hath Britaine all the Sunne that shines? Day? Night? +Are they not but in Britaine? I'th' worlds Volume +Our Britaine seemes as of it, but not in't: +In a great Poole, a Swannes-nest, prythee thinke +There's liuers out of Britaine + + Pis. I am most glad +You thinke of other place: Th' Ambassador, +Lucius the Romane comes to Milford-Hauen +To morrow. Now, if you could weare a minde +Darke, as your Fortune is, and but disguise +That which t' appeare it selfe, must not yet be, +But by selfe-danger, you should tread a course +Pretty, and full of view: yea, happily, neere +The residence of Posthumus; so nie (at least) +That though his Actions were not visible, yut +Report should render him hourely to your eare, +As truely as he mooues + + Imo. Oh for such meanes, +Though perill to my modestie, not death on't +I would aduenture + + Pis. Well then, heere's the point: +You must forget to be a Woman: change +Command, into obedience. Feare, and Nicenesse +(The Handmaides of all Women, or more truely +Woman it pretty selfe) into a waggish courage, +Ready in gybes, quicke-answer'd, sawcie, and +As quarrellous as the Weazell: Nay, you must +Forget that rarest Treasure of your Cheeke, +Exposing it (but oh the harder heart, +Alacke no remedy) to the greedy touch +Of common-kissing Titan: and forget +Your laboursome and dainty Trimmes, wherein +You made great Iuno angry + + Imo. Nay be breefe? +I see into thy end, and am almost +A man already + + Pis. First, make your selfe but like one, +Fore-thinking this. I haue already fit +('Tis in my Cloake-bagge) Doublet, Hat, Hose, all +That answer to them: Would you in their seruing, +(And with what imitation you can borrow +From youth of such a season) 'fore Noble Lucius +Present your selfe, desire his seruice: tell him +Wherein you're happy; which will make him know, +If that his head haue eare in Musicke, doubtlesse +With ioy he will imbrace you: for hee's Honourable, +And doubling that, most holy. Your meanes abroad: +You haue me rich, and I will neuer faile +Beginning, nor supplyment + + Imo. Thou art all the comfort +The Gods will diet me with. Prythee away, +There's more to be consider'd: but wee'l euen +All that good time will giue vs. This attempt, +I am Souldier too, and will abide it with +A Princes Courage. Away, I prythee + + Pis. Well Madam, we must take a short farewell, +Least being mist, I be suspected of +Your carriage from the Court. My Noble Mistris, +Heere is a boxe, I had it from the Queene, +What's in't is precious: If you are sicke at Sea, +Or Stomacke-qualm'd at Land, a Dramme of this +Will driue away distemper. To some shade, +And fit you to your Manhood: may the Gods +Direct you to the best + + Imo. Amen: I thanke thee. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Quinta. + +Enter Cymbeline, Queene, Cloten, Lucius, and Lords. + + Cym. Thus farre, and so farewell + + Luc. Thankes, Royall Sir: +My Emperor hath wrote, I must from hence, +And am right sorry, that I must report ye +My Masters Enemy + + Cym. Our Subiects (Sir) +Will not endure his yoake; and for our selfe +To shew lesse Soueraignty then they, must needs +Appeare vn-Kinglike + + Luc. So Sir: I desire of you +A Conduct ouer Land, to Milford-Hauen. +Madam, all ioy befall your Grace, and you + + Cym. My Lords, you are appointed for that Office: +The due of Honor, in no point omit: +So farewell Noble Lucius + + Luc. Your hand, my Lord + + Clot. Receiue it friendly: but from this time forth +I weare it as your Enemy + + Luc. Sir, the Euent +Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well + + Cym. Leaue not the worthy Lucius, good my Lords +Till he haue crost the Seuern. Happines. + +Exit Lucius, &c + Qu. He goes hence frowning: but it honours vs +That we haue giuen him cause + + Clot. 'Tis all the better, +Your valiant Britaines haue their wishes in it + + Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the Emperor +How it goes heere. It fits vs therefore ripely +Our Chariots, and our Horsemen be in readinesse: +The Powres that he already hath in Gallia +Will soone be drawne to head, from whence he moues +His warre for Britaine + + Qu. 'Tis not sleepy businesse, +But must be look'd too speedily, and strongly + + Cym. Our expectation that it would be thus +Hath made vs forward. But my gentle Queene, +Where is our Daughter? She hath not appear'd +Before the Roman, nor to vs hath tender'd +The duty of the day. She looke vs like +A thing more made of malice, then of duty, +We haue noted it. Call her before vs, for +We haue beene too slight in sufferance + + Qu. Royall Sir, +Since the exile of Posthumus, most retyr'd +Hath her life bin: the Cure whereof, my Lord, +'Tis time must do. Beseech your Maiesty, +Forbeare sharpe speeches to her. Shee's a Lady +So tender of rebukes, that words are stroke; +And strokes death to her. +Enter a Messenger. + + Cym. Where is she Sir? How +Can her contempt be answer'd? + Mes. Please you Sir, +Her Chambers are all lock'd, and there's no answer +That will be giuen to'th' lowd of noise, we make + + Qu. My Lord, when last I went to visit her, +She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close, +Whereto constrain'd by her infirmitie, +She should that dutie leaue vnpaide to you +Which dayly she was bound to proffer: this +She wish'd me to make knowne: but our great Court +Made me too blame in memory + + Cym. Her doores lock'd? +Not seene of late? Grant Heauens, that which I +Feare, proue false. +Enter. + + Qu. Sonne, I say, follow the King + + Clot. That man of hers, Pisanio, her old Seruant +I haue not seene these two dayes. +Enter. + + Qu. Go, looke after: +Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus, +He hath a Drugge of mine: I pray, his absence +Proceed by swallowing that. For he beleeues +It is a thing most precious. But for her, +Where is she gone? Haply dispaire hath seiz'd her: +Or wing'd with feruour of her loue, she's flowne +To her desir'd Posthumus: gone she is, +To death, or to dishonor, and my end +Can make good vse of either. Shee being downe, +I haue the placing of the Brittish Crowne. +Enter Cloten. + +How now, my Sonne? + Clot. 'Tis certaine she is fled: +Go in and cheere the King, he rages, none +Dare come about him + + Qu. All the better: may +This night fore-stall him of the comming day. + +Exit Qu. + + Clo. I loue, and hate her: for she's Faire and Royall, +And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite +Then Lady, Ladies, Woman, from euery one +The best she hath, and she of all compounded +Out-selles them all. I loue her therefore, but +Disdaining me, and throwing Fauours on +The low Posthumus, slanders so her iudgement, +That what's else rare, is choak'd: and in that point +I will conclude to hate her, nay indeede, +To be reueng'd vpon her. For, when Fooles shall- +Enter Pisanio. + +Who is heere? What, are you packing sirrah? +Come hither: Ah you precious Pandar, Villaine, +Where is thy Lady? In a word, or else +Thou art straightway with the Fiends + + Pis. Oh, good my Lord + + Clo. Where is thy Lady? Or, by Iupiter, +I will not aske againe. Close Villaine, +Ile haue this Secret from thy heart, or rip +Thy heart to finde it. Is she with Posthumus? +From whose so many waights of basenesse, cannot +A dram of worth be drawne + + Pis. Alas, nay Lord, +How can she be with him? When was she miss'd? +He is in Rome + + Clot. Where is she Sir? Come neerer: +No farther halting: satisfie me home, +What is become of her? + Pis. Oh, my all-worthy Lord + + Clo. All-worthy Villaine, +Discouer where thy Mistris is, at once, +At the next word: no more of worthy Lord: +Speake, or thy silence on the instant, is +Thy condemnation, and thy death + + Pis. Then Sir: +This Paper is the historie of my knowledge +Touching her flight + + Clo. Let's see't: I will pursue her +Euen to Augustus Throne + + Pis. Or this, or perish. +She's farre enough, and what he learnes by this, +May proue his trauell, not her danger + + Clo. Humh + + Pis. Ile write to my Lord she's dead: Oh Imogen, +Safe mayst thou wander, safe returne agen + + Clot. Sirra, is this Letter true? + Pis. Sir, as I thinke + + Clot. It is Posthumus hand, I know't. Sirrah, if thou +would'st not be a Villain, but do me true seruice: vndergo +those Imployments wherin I should haue cause to vse +thee with a serious industry, that is, what villainy soere I +bid thee do to performe it, directly and truely, I would +thinke thee an honest man: thou should'st neither want +my meanes for thy releefe, nor my voyce for thy preferment + + Pis. Well, my good Lord + + Clot. Wilt thou serue mee? For since patiently and +constantly thou hast stucke to the bare Fortune of that +Begger Posthumus, thou canst not in the course of gratitude, +but be a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou serue +mee? + Pis. Sir, I will + + Clo. Giue mee thy hand, heere's my purse. Hast any +of thy late Masters Garments in thy possession? + Pisan. I haue (my Lord) at my Lodging, the same +Suite he wore, when he tooke leaue of my Ladie & Mistresse + + Clo. The first seruice thou dost mee, fetch that Suite +hither, let it be thy first seruice, go + + Pis. I shall my Lord. +Enter. + + Clo. Meet thee at Milford-Hauen: (I forgot to aske +him one thing, Ile remember't anon:) euen there, thou +villaine Posthumus will I kill thee. I would these Garments +were come. She saide vpon a time (the bitternesse +of it, I now belch from my heart) that shee held the very +Garment of Posthumus, in more respect, then my Noble +and naturall person; together with the adornement of +my Qualities. With that Suite vpon my backe wil I rauish +her: first kill him, and in her eyes; there shall she see +my valour, which wil then be a torment to hir contempt. +He on the ground, my speech of insulment ended on his +dead bodie, and when my Lust hath dined (which, as I +say, to vex her, I will execute in the Cloathes that she so +prais'd:) to the Court Ile knock her backe, foot her home +againe. She hath despis'd mee reioycingly, and Ile bee +merry in my Reuenge. +Enter Pisanio. + +Be those the Garments? + Pis. I, my Noble Lord + + Clo. How long is't since she went to Milford-Hauen? + Pis. She can scarse be there yet + + Clo. Bring this Apparrell to my Chamber, that is +the second thing that I haue commanded thee. The third +is, that thou wilt be a voluntarie Mute to my designe. Be +but dutious, and true preferment shall tender it selfe to +thee. My Reuenge is now at Milford, would I had wings +to follow it. Come, and be true. + +Exit + + Pis. Thou bid'st me to my losse: for true to thee, +Were to proue false, which I will neuer bee +To him that is most true. To Milford go, +And finde not her, whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow +You Heauenly blessings on her: This Fooles speede +Be crost with slownesse; Labour be his meede. + +Exit + + +Scena Sexta. + +Enter Imogen alone. + + Imo. I see a mans life is a tedious one, +I haue tyr'd my selfe: and for two nights together +Haue made the ground my bed. I should be sicke, +But that my resolution helpes me: Milford, +When from the Mountaine top, Pisanio shew'd thee, +Thou was't within a kenne. Oh Ioue, I thinke +Foundations flye the wretched: such I meane, +Where they should be releeu'd. Two Beggers told me, +I could not misse my way. Will poore Folkes lye +That haue Afflictions on them, knowing 'tis +A punishment, or Triall? Yes; no wonder, +When Rich-ones scarse tell true. To lapse in Fulnesse +Is sorer, then to lye for Neede: and Falshood +Is worse in Kings, then Beggers. My deere Lord, +Thou art one o'th' false Ones: Now I thinke on thee, +My hunger's gone; but euen before, I was +At point to sinke, for Food. But what is this? +Heere is a path too't: 'tis some sauage hold: +I were best not call; I dare not call: yet Famine +Ere cleane it o're-throw Nature, makes it valiant. +Plentie, and Peace breeds Cowards: Hardnesse euer +Of Hardinesse is Mother. Hoa? who's heere? +If any thing that's ciuill, speake: if sauage, +Take, or lend. Hoa? No answer? Then Ile enter. +Best draw my Sword; and if mine Enemy +But feare the Sword like me, hee'l scarsely looke on't. +Such a Foe, good Heauens. +Enter. + + +Scena Septima. + +Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Aruiragus + + Bel. You Polidore haue prou'd best Woodman, and +Are Master of the Feast: Cadwall, and I +Will play the Cooke, and Seruant, 'tis our match: +The sweat of industry would dry, and dye +But for the end it workes too. Come, our stomackes +Will make what's homely, sauoury: Wearinesse +Can snore vpon the Flint, when restie Sloth +Findes the Downe-pillow hard. Now peace be heere, +Poore house, that keep'st thy selfe + + Gui. I am throughly weary + + Arui. I am weake with toyle, yet strong in appetite + + Gui. There is cold meat i'th' Caue, we'l brouz on that +Whil'st what we haue kill'd, be Cook'd + + Bel. Stay, come not in: +But that it eates our victualles, I should thinke +Heere were a Faiery + + Gui. What's the matter, Sir? + Bel. By Iupiter an Angell: or if not +An earthly Paragon. Behold Diuinenesse +No elder then a Boy. +Enter Imogen. + + Imo. Good masters harme me not: +Before I enter'd heere, I call'd, and thought +To haue begg'd, or bought, what I haue took: good troth +I haue stolne nought, nor would not, though I had found +Gold strew'd i'th' Floore. Heere's money for my Meate, +I would haue left it on the Boord, so soone +As I had made my Meale; and parted +With Pray'rs for the Prouider + + Gui. Money? Youth + + Aru. All Gold and Siluer rather turne to durt, +As 'tis no better reckon'd, but of those +Who worship durty Gods + + Imo. I see you're angry: +Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should +Haue dyed, had I not made it + + Bel. Whether bound? + Imo. To Milford-Hauen + + Bel. What's your name? + Imo. Fidele Sir: I haue a Kinsman, who +Is bound for Italy; he embark'd at Milford, +To whom being going, almost spent with hunger, +I am falne in this offence + + Bel. Prythee (faire youth) +Thinke vs no Churles: nor measure our good mindes +By this rude place we liue in. Well encounter'd, +'Tis almost night, you shall haue better cheere +Ere you depart; and thankes to stay, and eate it: +Boyes, bid him welcome + + Gui. Were you a woman, youth, +I should woo hard, but be your Groome in honesty: +I bid for you, as I do buy + + Arui. Ile make't my Comfort +He is a man, Ile loue him as my Brother: +And such a welcome as I'ld giue to him +(After long absence) such is yours. Most welcome: +Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst Friends + + Imo. 'Mongst Friends? +If Brothers: would it had bin so, that they +Had bin my Fathers Sonnes, then had my prize +Bin lesse, and so more equall ballasting +To thee Posthumus + + Bel. He wrings at some distresse + + Gui. Would I could free't + + Arui. Or I, what ere it be, +What paine it cost, what danger: Gods! + Bel. Hearke Boyes + + Imo. Great men +That had a Court no bigger then this Caue, +That did attend themselues, and had the vertue +Which their owne Conscience seal'd them: laying by +That nothing-guift of differing Multitudes +Could not out-peere these twaine. Pardon me Gods, +I'ld change my sexe to be Companion with them, +Since Leonatus false + + Bel. It shall be so: +Boyes wee'l go dresse our Hunt. Faire youth come in; +Discourse is heauy, fasting: when we haue supp'd +Wee'l mannerly demand thee of thy Story, +So farre as thou wilt speake it + + Gui. Pray draw neere + + Arui. The Night to'th' Owle, +And Morne to th' Larke lesse welcome + + Imo. Thankes Sir + + Arui. I pray draw neere. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Octaua. + +Enter two Roman Senators, and Tribunes. + + 1.Sen. This is the tenor of the Emperors Writ; +That since the common men are now in Action +'Gainst the Pannonians, and Dalmatians, +And that the Legions now in Gallia, are +Full weake to vndertake our Warres against +The falne-off Britaines, that we do incite +The Gentry to this businesse. He creates +Lucius Pro-Consull: and to you the Tribunes +For this immediate Leuy, he commands +His absolute Commission. Long liue Caesar + + Tri. Is Lucius Generall of the Forces? + 2.Sen. I + + Tri. Remaining now in Gallia? + 1.Sen. With those Legions +Which I haue spoke of, whereunto your leuie +Must be suppliant: the words of your Commission +Will tye you to the numbers, and the time +Of their dispatch + + Tri. We will discharge our duty. + +Exeunt. + + +Actus Quartus. Scena Prima. + +Enter Clotten alone. + + Clot I am neere to'th' place where they should meet, +if Pisanio haue mapp'd it truely. How fit his Garments +serue me? Why should his Mistris who was made by him +that made the Taylor, not be fit too? The rather (sauing +reuerence of the Word) for 'tis saide a Womans fitnesse +comes by fits: therein I must play the Workman, I dare +speake it to my selfe, for it is not Vainglorie for a man, +and his Glasse, to confer in his owne Chamber; I meane, +the Lines of my body are as well drawne as his; no lesse +young, more strong, not beneath him in Fortunes, beyond +him in the aduantage of the time, aboue him in +Birth, alike conuersant in generall seruices, and more remarkeable +in single oppositions; yet this imperseuerant +Thing loues him in my despight. What Mortalitie is? +Posthumus, thy head (which now is growing vppon thy +shoulders) shall within this houre be off, thy Mistris inforced, +thy Garments cut to peeces before thy face: and +all this done, spurne her home to her Father, who may +(happily) be a little angry for my so rough vsage: but my +Mother hauing power of his testinesse, shall turne all into +my commendations. My Horse is tyed vp safe, out +Sword, and to a sore purpose: Fortune put them into my +hand: This is the very description of their meeting place +and the Fellow dares not deceiue me. +Enter. + + +Scena Secunda. + +Enter Belarius, Guiderius, Aruiragus, and Imogen from the Caue. + + Bel. You are not well: Remaine heere in the Caue, +Wee'l come to you after Hunting + + Arui. Brother, stay heere: +Are we not Brothers? + Imo. So man and man should be, +But Clay and Clay, differs in dignitie, +Whose dust is both alike. I am very sicke, + Gui. Go you to Hunting, Ile abide with him + + Imo. So sicke I am not, yet I am not well: +But not so Citizen a wanton, as +To seeme to dye, ere sicke: So please you, leaue me, +Sticke to your Iournall course: the breach of Custome, +Is breach of all. I am ill, but your being by me +Cannot amend me. Society, is no comfort +To one not sociable: I am not very sicke, +Since I can reason of it: pray you trust me heere, +Ile rob none but my selfe, and let me dye +Stealing so poorely + + Gui. I loue thee: I haue spoke it, +How much the quantity, the waight as much, +As I do loue my Father + + Bel. What? How? how? + Arui. If it be sinne to say so (Sir) I yoake mee +In my good Brothers fault: I know not why +I loue this youth, and I haue heard you say, +Loue's reason's, without reason. The Beere at doore, +And a demand who is't shall dye, I'ld say +My Father, not this youth + + Bel. Oh noble straine! +O worthinesse of Nature, breed of Greatnesse! +``Cowards father Cowards, & Base things Syre Bace; +``Nature hath Meale, and Bran; Contempt, and Grace. +I'me not their Father, yet who this should bee, +Doth myracle it selfe, lou'd before mee. +'Tis the ninth houre o'th' Morne + + Arui. Brother, farewell + + Imo. I wish ye sport + + Arui. You health. - So please you Sir + + Imo. These are kinde Creatures. +Gods, what lyes I haue heard: +Our Courtiers say, all's sauage, but at Court; +Experience, oh thou disproou'st Report. +Th' emperious Seas breeds Monsters; for the Dish, +Poore Tributary Riuers, as sweet Fish: +I am sicke still, heart-sicke; Pisanio, +Ile now taste of thy Drugge + + Gui. I could not stirre him: +He said he was gentle, but vnfortunate; +Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest + + Arui. Thus did he answer me: yet said heereafter, +I might know more + + Bel. To'th' Field, to'th' Field: +Wee'l leaue you for this time, go in, and rest + + Arui. Wee'l not be long away + + Bel. Pray be not sicke, +For you must be our Huswife + + Imo. Well, or ill, +I am bound to you. +Enter. + + Bel. And shal't be euer. +This youth, how ere distrest, appeares he hath had +Good Ancestors + + Arui. How Angell-like he sings? + Gui. But his neate Cookerie? + Arui. He cut our Rootes in Charracters, +And sawc'st our Brothes, as Iuno had bin sicke, +And he her Dieter + + Arui. Nobly he yoakes +A smiling, with a sigh; as if the sighe +Was that it was, for not being such a Smile: +The Smile, mocking the Sigh, that it would flye +From so diuine a Temple, to commix +With windes, that Saylors raile at + + Gui. I do note, +That greefe and patience rooted in them both, +Mingle their spurres together + + Arui. Grow patient, +And let the stinking-Elder (Greefe) vntwine +His perishing roote, with the encreasing Vine + + Bel. It is great morning. Come away: Who's there? +Enter Cloten. + + Clo. I cannot finde those Runnagates, that Villaine +Hath mock'd me. I am faint + + Bel. Those Runnagates? +Meanes he not vs? I partly know him, 'tis +Cloten, the Sonne o'th' Queene. I feare some Ambush: +I saw him not these many yeares, and yet +I know 'tis he: We are held as Out-Lawes: Hence + + Gui. He is but one: you, and my Brother search +What Companies are neere: pray you away, +Let me alone with him + + Clot. Soft, what are you +That flye me thus? Some villaine-Mountainers? +I haue heard of such. What Slaue art thou? + Gui. A thing +More slauish did I ne're, then answering +A Slaue without a knocke + + Clot. Thou art a Robber, +A Law-breaker, a Villaine: yeeld thee Theefe + + Gui. To who? to thee? What art thou? Haue not I +An arme as bigge as thine? A heart, as bigge: +Thy words I grant are bigger: for I weare not +My Dagger in my mouth. Say what thou art: +Why I should yeeld to thee? + Clot. Thou Villaine base, +Know'st me not by my Cloathes? + Gui. No, nor thy Taylor, Rascall: +Who is thy Grandfather? He made those cloathes, +Which (as it seemes) make thee + + Clo. Thou precious Varlet, +My Taylor made them not + + Gui. Hence then, and thanke +The man that gaue them thee. Thou art some Foole, +I am loath to beate thee + + Clot. Thou iniurious Theefe, +Heare but my name, and tremble + + Gui. What's thy name? + Clo. Cloten, thou Villaine + + Gui. Cloten, thou double Villaine be thy name, +I cannot tremble at it, were it Toad, or Adder, Spider, +'Twould moue me sooner + + Clot. To thy further feare, +Nay, to thy meere Confusion, thou shalt know +I am Sonne to'th' Queene + + Gui. I am sorry for't: not seeming +So worthy as thy Birth + + Clot. Art not afeard? + Gui. Those that I reuerence, those I feare: the Wise: +At Fooles I laugh: not feare them + + Clot. Dye the death: +When I haue slaine thee with my proper hand, +Ile follow those that euen now fled hence: +And on the Gates of Luds-Towne set your heads: +Yeeld Rusticke Mountaineer. + +Fight and Exeunt. + +Enter Belarius and Aruiragus. + + Bel. No Companie's abroad? + Arui. None in the world: you did mistake him sure + + Bel. I cannot tell: Long is it since I saw him, +But Time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of Fauour +Which then he wore: the snatches in his voice, +And burst of speaking were as his: I am absolute +'Twas very Cloten + + Arui. In this place we left them; +I wish my Brother make good time with him, +You say he is so fell + + Bel. Being scarse made vp, +I meane to man; he had not apprehension +Of roaring terrors: For defect of iudgement +Is oft the cause of Feare. +Enter Guiderius. + +But see thy Brother + + Gui. This Cloten was a Foole, an empty purse, +There was no money in't: Not Hercules +Could haue knock'd out his Braines, for he had none: +Yet I not doing this, the Foole had borne +My head, as I do his + + Bel. What hast thou done? + Gui. I am perfect what: cut off one Clotens head, +Sonne to the Queene (after his owne report) +Who call'd me Traitor, Mountaineer, and swore +With his owne single hand heel'd take vs in, +Displace our heads, where (thanks the Gods) they grow +And set them on Luds-Towne + + Bel. We are all vndone + + Gui. Why, worthy Father, what haue we to loose, +But that he swore to take our Liues? the Law +Protects not vs, then why should we be tender, +To let an arrogant peece of flesh threat vs? +Play Iudge, and Executioner, all himselfe? +For we do feare the Law. What company +Discouer you abroad? + Bel. No single soule +Can we set eye on: but in all safe reason +He must haue some Attendants. Though his Honor +Was nothing but mutation, I, and that +From one bad thing to worse: Not Frenzie, +Not absolute madnesse could so farre haue rau'd +To bring him heere alone: although perhaps +It may be heard at Court, that such as wee +Caue heere, hunt heere, are Out-lawes, and in time +May make some stronger head, the which he hearing, +(As it is like him) might breake out, and sweare +Heel'd fetch vs in, yet is't not probable +To come alone, either he so vndertaking, +Or they so suffering: then on good ground we feare, +If we do feare this Body hath a taile +More perillous then the head + + Arui. Let Ord'nance +Come as the Gods fore-say it: howsoere, +My Brother hath done well + + Bel. I had no minde +To hunt this day: The Boy Fideles sickenesse +Did make my way long forth + + Gui. With his owne Sword, +Which he did waue against my throat, I haue tane +His head from him: Ile throw't into the Creeke +Behinde our Rocke, and let it to the Sea, +And tell the Fishes, hee's the Queenes Sonne, Cloten, +That's all I reake. +Enter. + + Bel. I feare 'twill be reueng'd: +Would (Polidore) thou had'st not done't: though valour +Becomes thee well enough + + Arui. Would I had done't: +So the Reuenge alone pursu'de me: Polidore +I loue thee brotherly, but enuy much +Thou hast robb'd me of this deed: I would Reuenges +That possible strength might meet, wold seek vs through +And put vs to our answer + + Bel. Well, 'tis done: +Wee'l hunt no more to day, nor seeke for danger +Where there's no profit. I prythee to our Rocke, +You and Fidele play the Cookes: Ile stay +Till hasty Polidore returne, and bring him +To dinner presently + + Arui. Poore sicke Fidele. +Ile willingly to him, to gaine his colour, +Il'd let a parish of such Clotens blood, +And praise my selfe for charity. +Enter. + + Bel. Oh thou Goddesse, +Thou diuine Nature; thou thy selfe thou blazon'st +In these two Princely Boyes: they are as gentle +As Zephires blowing below the Violet, +Not wagging his sweet head; and yet, as rough +(Their Royall blood enchaf'd) as the rud'st winde, +That by the top doth take the Mountaine Pine, +And make him stoope to th' Vale. 'Tis wonder +That an inuisible instinct should frame them +To Royalty vnlearn'd, Honor vntaught, +Ciuility not seene from other: valour +That wildely growes in them, but yeelds a crop +As if it had beene sow'd: yet still it's strange +What Clotens being heere to vs portends, +Or what his death will bring vs. +Enter Guidereus. + + Gui. Where's my Brother? +I haue sent Clotens Clot-pole downe the streame, +In Embassie to his Mother; his Bodie's hostage +For his returne. + +Solemn Musick. + + Bel. My ingenuous Instrument, +(Hearke Polidore) it sounds: but what occasion +Hath Cadwal now to giue it motion? Hearke + + Gui. Is he at home? + Bel. He went hence euen now + + Gui. What does he meane? +Since death of my deer'st Mother +It did not speake before. All solemne things +Should answer solemne Accidents. The matter? +Triumphes for nothing, and lamenting Toyes, +Is iollity for Apes, and greefe for Boyes. +Is Cadwall mad? +Enter Aruiragus, with Imogen dead, bearing her in his Armes. + + Bel. Looke, heere he comes, +And brings the dire occasion in his Armes, +Of what we blame him for + + Arui. The Bird is dead +That we haue made so much on. I had rather +Haue skipt from sixteene yeares of Age, to sixty: +To haue turn'd my leaping time into a Crutch, +Then haue seene this + + Gui. Oh sweetest, fayrest Lilly: +My Brother weares thee not the one halfe so well, +As when thou grew'st thy selfe + + Bel. Oh Melancholly, +Who euer yet could sound thy bottome? Finde +The Ooze, to shew what Coast thy sluggish care +Might'st easilest harbour in. Thou blessed thing, +Ioue knowes what man thou might'st haue made: but I, +Thou dyed'st a most rare Boy, of Melancholly. +How found you him? + Arui. Starke, as you see: +Thus smiling, as some Fly had tickled slumber, +Not as deaths dart being laugh'd at: his right Cheeke +Reposing on a Cushion + + Gui. Where? + Arui. O'th' floore: +His armes thus leagu'd, I thought he slept, and put +My clowted Brogues from off my feete, whose rudenesse +Answer'd my steps too lowd + + Gui. Why, he but sleepes: +If he be gone, hee'l make his Graue, a Bed: +With female Fayries will his Tombe be haunted, +And Wormes will not come to thee + + Arui. With fayrest Flowers +Whil'st Sommer lasts, and I liue heere, Fidele, +Ile sweeten thy sad graue: thou shalt not lacke +The Flower that's like thy face. Pale-Primrose, nor +The azur'd Hare-Bell, like thy Veines: no, nor +The leafe of Eglantine, whom not to slander, +Out-sweetned not thy breath: the Raddocke would +With Charitable bill (Oh bill sore shaming +Those rich-left-heyres, that let their Fathers lye +Without a Monument) bring thee all this, +Yea, and furr'd Mosse besides. When Flowres are none +To winter-ground thy Coarse- + Gui. Prythee haue done, +And do not play in Wench-like words with that +Which is so serious. Let vs bury him, +And not protract with admiration, what +Is now due debt. To'th' graue + + Arui. Say, where shall's lay him? + Gui. By good Euriphile, our Mother + + Arui. Bee't so: +And let vs (Polidore) though now our voyces +Haue got the mannish cracke, sing him to'th' ground +As once to our Mother: vse like note, and words, +Saue that Euriphile, must be Fidele + + Gui. Cadwall, +I cannot sing: Ile weepe, and word it with thee; +For Notes of sorrow, out of tune, are worse +Then Priests, and Phanes that lye + + Arui. Wee'l speake it then + + Bel. Great greefes I see med'cine the lesse: For Cloten +Is quite forgot. He was a Queenes Sonne, Boyes, +And though he came our Enemy, remember +He was paid for that: though meane, and mighty rotting +Together haue one dust, yet Reuerence +(That Angell of the world) doth make distinction +Of place 'tweene high, and low. Our Foe was Princely, +And though you tooke his life, as being our Foe, +Yet bury him, as a Prince + + Gui. Pray you fetch him hither, +Thersites body is as good as Aiax, +When neyther are aliue + + Arui. If you'l go fetch him, +Wee'l say our Song the whil'st: Brother begin + + Gui. Nay Cadwall, we must lay his head to th' East, +My Father hath a reason for't + + Arui. 'Tis true + + Gui. Come on then, and remoue him + + Arui. So, begin. + +SONG. + + Guid. Feare no more the heate o'th' Sun, +Nor the furious Winters rages, +Thou thy worldly task hast don, +Home art gon, and tane thy wages. +Golden Lads, and Girles all must, +As Chimney-Sweepers come to dust + + Arui. Feare no more the frowne o'th' Great, +Thou art past the Tirants stroake, +Care no more to cloath and eate, +To thee the Reede is as the Oake: +The Scepter, Learning, Physicke must, +All follow this and come to dust + + Guid. Feare no more the Lightning flash + + Arui. Nor th' all-dreaded Thunderstone + + Gui. Feare not Slander, Censure rash + + Arui. Thou hast finish'd Ioy and mone + + Both. All Louers young, all Louers must, +Consigne to thee and come to dust + + Guid. No Exorcisor harme thee, + Arui. Nor no witch-craft charme thee + + Guid. Ghost vnlaid forbeare thee + + Arui. Nothing ill come neere thee + + Both. Quiet consumation haue, +And renowned be thy graue. +Enter Belarius with the body of Cloten. + + Gui. We haue done our obsequies: +Come lay him downe + + Bel. Heere's a few Flowres, but 'bout midnight more: +The hearbes that haue on them cold dew o'th' night +Are strewings fit'st for Graues: vpon their Faces. +You were as Flowres, now wither'd: euen so +These Herbelets shall, which we vpon you strew. +Come on, away, apart vpon our knees: +The ground that gaue them first, ha's them againe: +Their pleasures here are past, so are their paine. + +Exeunt. + +Imogen awakes. + +Yes Sir, to Milford-Hauen, which is the way? +I thanke you: by yond bush? pray how farre thether? +'Ods pittikins: can it be sixe mile yet? +I haue gone all night: 'Faith, Ile lye downe, and sleepe. +But soft; no Bedfellow? Oh Gods, and Goddesses! +These Flowres are like the pleasures of the World; +This bloody man the care on't. I hope I dreame: +For so I thought I was a Caue-keeper, +And Cooke to honest Creatures. But 'tis not so: +'Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot of nothing, +Which the Braine makes of Fumes. Our very eyes, +Are sometimes like our Iudgements, blinde. Good faith +I tremble still with feare: but if there be +Yet left in Heauen, as small a drop of pittie +As a Wrens eye; fear'd Gods, a part of it. +The Dreame's heere still: euen when I wake it is +Without me, as within me: not imagin'd, felt. +A headlesse man? The Garments of Posthumus? +I know the shape of's Legge: this is his Hand: +His Foote Mercuriall: his martiall Thigh +The brawnes of Hercules: but his Iouiall face- +Murther in heauen? How? 'tis gone. Pisanio, +All Curses madded Hecuba gaue the Greekes, +And mine to boot, be darted on thee: thou +Conspir'd with that Irregulous diuell Cloten, +Hath heere cut off my Lord. To write, and read, +Be henceforth treacherous. Damn'd Pisanio, +Hath with his forged Letters (damn'd Pisanio) +From this most brauest vessell of the world +Strooke the maine top! Oh Posthumus, alas, +Where is thy head? where's that? Aye me! where's that? +Pisanio might haue kill'd thee at the heart, +And left this head on. How should this be, Pisanio? +'Tis he, and Cloten: Malice, and Lucre in them +Haue laid this Woe heere. Oh 'tis pregnant, pregnant! +The Drugge he gaue me, which hee said was precious +And Cordiall to me, haue I not found it +Murd'rous to'th' Senses? That confirmes it home: +This is Pisanio's deede, and Cloten: Oh! +Giue colour to my pale cheeke with thy blood, +That we the horrider may seeme to those +Which chance to finde vs. Oh, my Lord! my Lord! +Enter Lucius, Captaines, and a Soothsayer. + + Cap. To them, the Legions garrison'd in Gallia +After your will, haue crost the Sea, attending +You heere at Milford-Hauen, with your Shippes: +They are heere in readinesse + + Luc. But what from Rome? + Cap. The Senate hath stirr'd vp the Confiners, +And Gentlemen of Italy, most willing Spirits, +That promise Noble Seruice: and they come +Vnder the Conduct of bold Iachimo, +Syenna's Brother + + Luc. When expect you them? + Cap. With the next benefit o'th' winde + + Luc. This forwardnesse +Makes our hopes faire. Command our present numbers +Be muster'd: bid the Captaines looke too't. Now Sir, +What haue you dream'd of late of this warres purpose + + Sooth. Last night, the very Gods shew'd me a vision +(I fast, and pray'd for their Intelligence) thus: +I saw Ioues Bird, the Roman Eagle wing'd +From the spungy South, to this part of the West, +There vanish'd in the Sun-beames, which portends +(Vnlesse my sinnes abuse my Diuination) +Successe to th' Roman hoast + + Luc. Dreame often so, +And neuer false. Soft hoa, what truncke is heere? +Without his top? The ruine speakes, that sometime +It was a worthy building. How? a Page? +Or dead, or sleeping on him? But dead rather: +For Nature doth abhorre to make his bed +With the defunct, or sleepe vpon the dead. +Let's see the Boyes face + + Cap. Hee's aliue my Lord + + Luc. Hee'l then instruct vs of this body: Young one, +Informe vs of thy Fortunes, for it seemes +They craue to be demanded: who is this +Thou mak'st thy bloody Pillow? Or who was he +That (otherwise then noble Nature did) +Hath alter'd that good Picture? What's thy interest +In this sad wracke? How came't? Who is't? +What art thou? + Imo. I am nothing; or if not, +Nothing to be were better: This was my Master, +A very valiant Britaine, and a good, +That heere by Mountaineers lyes slaine: Alas, +There is no more such Masters: I may wander +From East to Occident, cry out for Seruice, +Try many, all good: serue truly: neuer +Finde such another Master + + Luc. 'Lacke, good youth: +Thou mou'st no lesse with thy complaining, then +Thy Maister in bleeding: say his name, good Friend + + Imo. Richard du Champ: If I do lye, and do +No harme by it, though the Gods heare, I hope +They'l pardon it. Say you Sir? + Luc. Thy name? + Imo. Fidele Sir + + Luc. Thou doo'st approue thy selfe the very same: +Thy Name well fits thy Faith; thy Faith, thy Name: +Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say +Thou shalt be so well master'd, but be sure +No lesse belou'd. The Romane Emperors Letters +Sent by a Consull to me, should not sooner +Then thine owne worth preferre thee: Go with me + + Imo. Ile follow Sir. But first, and't please the Gods, +Ile hide my Master from the Flies, as deepe +As these poore Pickaxes can digge: and when +With wild wood-leaues & weeds, I ha' strew'd his graue +And on it said a Century of prayers +(Such as I can) twice o're, Ile weepe, and sighe, +And leauing so his seruice, follow you, +So please you entertaine mee + + Luc. I good youth, +And rather Father thee, then Master thee: My Friends, +The Boy hath taught vs manly duties: Let vs +Finde out the prettiest Dazied-Plot we can, +And make him with our Pikes and Partizans +A Graue: Come, Arme him: Boy hee's preferr'd +By thee, to vs, and he shall be interr'd +As Souldiers can. Be cheerefull; wipe thine eyes, +Some Falles are meanes the happier to arise. + +Exeunt. + +Scena Tertia. + +Enter Cymbeline, Lords, and Pisanio. + + Cym. Againe: and bring me word how 'tis with her, +A Feauour with the absence of her Sonne; +A madnesse, of which her life's in danger: Heauens, +How deeply you at once do touch me. Imogen, +The great part of my comfort, gone: My Queene +Vpon a desperate bed, and in a time +When fearefull Warres point at me: Her Sonne gone, +So needfull for this present? It strikes me, past +The hope of comfort. But for thee, Fellow, +Who needs must know of her departure, and +Dost seeme so ignorant, wee'l enforce it from thee +By a sharpe Torture + + Pis. Sir, my life is yours, +I humbly set it at your will: But for my Mistris, +I nothing know where she remaines: why gone, +Nor when she purposes returne. Beseech your Highnes, +Hold me your loyall Seruant + + Lord. Good my Liege, +The day that she was missing, he was heere; +I dare be bound hee's true, and shall performe +All parts of his subiection loyally. For Cloten, +There wants no diligence in seeking him, +And will no doubt be found + + Cym. The time is troublesome: +Wee'l slip you for a season, but our iealousie +Do's yet depend + + Lord. So please your Maiesty, +The Romaine Legions, all from Gallia drawne, +Are landed on your Coast, with a supply +Of Romaine Gentlemen, by the Senate sent + + Cym. Now for the Counsaile of my Son and Queen, +I am amaz'd with matter + + Lord. Good my Liege, +Your preparation can affront no lesse +Then what you heare of. Come more, for more you're ready: +The want is, but to put those Powres in motion, +That long to moue + + Cym. I thanke you: let's withdraw +And meete the Time, as it seekes vs. We feare not +What can from Italy annoy vs, but +We greeue at chances heere. Away. + +Exeunt. + + Pisa. I heard no Letter from my Master, since +I wrote him Imogen was slaine. 'Tis strange: +Nor heare I from my Mistris, who did promise +To yeeld me often tydings. Neither know I +What is betide to Cloten, but remaine +Perplext in all. The Heauens still must worke: +Wherein I am false, I am honest: not true, to be true. +These present warres shall finde I loue my Country, +Euen to the note o'th' King, or Ile fall in them: +All other doubts, by time let them be cleer'd, +Fortune brings in some Boats, that are not steer'd. +Enter. + + +Scena Quarta. + +Enter Belarius, Guiderius, & Aruiragus. + + Gui. The noyse is round about vs + + Bel. Let vs from it + + Arui. What pleasure Sir, we finde in life, to locke it +From Action, and Aduenture + + Gui. Nay, what hope +Haue we in hiding vs? This way the Romaines +Must, or for Britaines slay vs, or receiue vs +For barbarous and vnnaturall Reuolts +During their vse, and slay vs after + + Bel. Sonnes, +Wee'l higher to the Mountaines, there secure vs. +To the Kings party there's no going: newnesse +Of Clotens death (we being not knowne, nor muster'd +Among the Bands) may driue vs to a render +Where we haue liu'd; and so extort from's that +Which we haue done, whose answer would be death +Drawne on with Torture + + Gui. This is (Sir) a doubt +In such a time, nothing becomming you, +Nor satisfying vs + + Arui. It is not likely, +That when they heare their Roman horses neigh, +Behold their quarter'd Fires; haue both their eyes +And eares so cloyd importantly as now, +That they will waste their time vpon our note, +To know from whence we are + + Bel. Oh, I am knowne +Of many in the Army: Many yeeres +(Though Cloten then but young) you see, not wore him +From my remembrance. And besides, the King +Hath not deseru'd my Seruice, nor your Loues, +Who finde in my Exile, the want of Breeding; +The certainty of this heard life, aye hopelesse +To haue the courtesie your Cradle promis'd, +But to be still hot Summers Tanlings, and +The shrinking Slaues of Winter + + Gui. Then be so, +Better to cease to be. Pray Sir, to'th' Army: +I, and my Brother are not knowne; your selfe +So out of thought, and thereto so ore-growne, +Cannot be question'd + + Arui. By this Sunne that shines +Ile thither: What thing is't, that I neuer +Did see man dye, scarse euer look'd on blood, +But that of Coward Hares, hot Goats, and Venison? +Neuer bestrid a Horse saue one, that had +A Rider like my selfe, who ne're wore Rowell, +Nor Iron on his heele? I am asham'd +To looke vpon the holy Sunne, to haue +The benefit of his blest Beames, remaining +So long a poore vnknowne + + Gui. By heauens Ile go, +If you will blesse me Sir, and giue me leaue, +Ile take the better care: but if you will not, +The hazard therefore due fall on me, by +The hands of Romaines + + Arui. So say I, Amen + + Bel. No reason I (since of your liues you set +So slight a valewation) should reserue +My crack'd one to more care. Haue with you Boyes: +If in your Country warres you chance to dye, +That is my Bed too (Lads) and there Ile lye. +Lead, lead; the time seems long, their blood thinks scorn +Till it flye out, and shew them Princes borne. + +Exeunt. + + +Actus Quintus. Scena Prima. + +Enter Posthumus alone. + + Post. Yea bloody cloth, Ile keep thee: for I am wisht +Thou should'st be colour'd thus. You married ones, +If each of you should take this course, how many +Must murther Wiues much better then themselues +For wrying but a little? Oh Pisanio, +Euery good Seruant do's not all Commands: +No Bond, but to do iust ones. Gods, if you +Should haue 'tane vengeance on my faults, I neuer +Had liu'd to put on this: so had you saued +The noble Imogen, to repent, and strooke +Me (wretch) more worth your Vengeance. But alacke, +You snatch some hence for little faults; that's loue +To haue them fall no more: you some permit +To second illes with illes, each elder worse, +And make them dread it, to the dooers thrift. +But Imogen is your owne, do your best willes, +And make me blest to obey. I am brought hither +Among th' Italian Gentry, and to fight +Against my Ladies Kingdome: 'Tis enough +That (Britaine) I haue kill'd thy Mistris: Peace, +Ile giue no wound to thee: therefore good Heauens, +Heare patiently my purpose. Ile disrobe me +Of these Italian weedes, and suite my selfe +As do's a Britaine Pezant: so Ile fight +Against the part I come with: so Ile dye +For thee (O Imogen) euen for whom my life +Is euery breath, a death: and thus, vnknowne, +Pittied, nor hated, to the face of perill +My selfe Ile dedicate. Let me make men know +More valour in me, then my habits show. +Gods, put the strength o'th'Leonati in me: +To shame the guize o'th' world, I will begin, +The fashion lesse without, and more within. +Enter. + + +Scena Secunda. + +Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and the Romane Army at one doore: and +the Britaine +Army at another: Leonatus Posthumus following like a poore +Souldier. They +march ouer, and goe out. Then enter againe in Skirmish Iachimo +and +Posthumus: he vanquisheth and disarmeth Iachimo, and then +leaues him. + + Iac. The heauinesse and guilt within my bosome, +Takes off my manhood: I haue belyed a Lady, +The Princesse of this Country; and the ayre on't +Reuengingly enfeebles me, or could this Carle, +A very drudge of Natures, haue subdu'de me +In my profession? Knighthoods, and Honors borne +As I weare mine) are titles but of scorne. +If that thy Gentry (Britaine) go before +This Lowt, as he exceeds our Lords, the oddes +Is, that we scarse are men, and you are Goddes. +Enter. + +The Battaile continues, the Britaines fly, Cymbeline is taken: Then +enter +to his rescue, Bellarius, Guiderius, and Aruiragus. + + Bel. Stand, stand, we haue th' aduantage of the ground, +The Lane is guarded: Nothing rowts vs, but +The villany of our feares + + Gui. Arui. Stand, stand, and fight. +Enter Posthumus, and seconds the Britaines. They Rescue +Cymbeline, and +Exeunt. + +Then enter Lucius, Iachimo, and Imogen. + + Luc. Away boy from the Troopes, and saue thy selfe: +For friends kil friends, and the disorder's such +As warre were hood-wink'd + + Iac. 'Tis their fresh supplies + + Luc. It is a day turn'd strangely: or betimes +Let's re-inforce, or fly. + +Exeunt. + +Scena Tertia. + +Enter Posthumus, and a Britaine Lord. + + Lor. Cam'st thou from where they made the stand? + Post. I did, +Though you it seemes come from the Fliers? + Lo. I did + + Post. No blame be to you Sir, for all was lost, +But that the Heauens fought: the King himselfe +Of his wings destitute, the Army broken, +And but the backes of Britaines seene; all flying +Through a strait Lane, the Enemy full-heart'd, +Lolling the Tongue with slaught'ring: hauing worke +More plentifull, then Tooles to doo't: strooke downe +Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some falling +Meerely through feare, that the strait passe was damm'd +With deadmen, hurt behinde, and Cowards liuing +To dye with length'ned shame + + Lo. Where was this Lane? + Post. Close by the battell, ditch'd, & wall'd with turph, +Which gaue aduantage to an ancient Soldiour +(An honest one I warrant) who deseru'd +So long a breeding, as his white beard came to, +In doing this for's Country. Athwart the Lane, +He, with two striplings (Lads more like to run +The Country base, then to commit such slaughter, +With faces fit for Maskes, or rather fayrer +Then those for preseruation cas'd, or shame) +Made good the passage, cryed to those that fled. +Our Britaines hearts dye flying, not our men, +To darknesse fleete soules that flye backwards; stand, +Or we are Romanes, and will giue you that +Like beasts, which you shun beastly, and may saue +But to looke backe in frowne: Stand, stand. These three, +Three thousand confident, in acte as many: +For three performers are the File, when all +The rest do nothing. With this word stand, stand, +Accomodated by the Place; more Charming +With their owne Noblenesse, which could haue turn'd +A Distaffe, to a Lance, guilded pale lookes; +Part shame, part spirit renew'd, that some turn'd coward +But by example (Oh a sinne in Warre, +Damn'd in the first beginners) gan to looke +The way that they did, and to grin like Lyons +Vpon the Pikes o'th' Hunters. Then beganne +A stop i'th' Chaser; a Retyre: Anon +A Rowt, confusion thicke: forthwith they flye +Chickens, the way which they stopt Eagles: Slaues +The strides the Victors made: and now our Cowards +Like Fragments in hard Voyages became +The life o'th' need: hauing found the backe doore open +Of the vnguarded hearts: heauens, how they wound, +Some slaine before some dying; some their Friends +Ore-borne i'th' former waue, ten chac'd by one, +Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty: +Those that would dye, or ere resist, are growne +The mortall bugs o'th' Field + + Lord. This was strange chance: +A narrow Lane, an old man, and two Boyes + + Post. Nay, do not wonder at it: you are made +Rather to wonder at the things you heare, +Then to worke any. Will you Rime vpon't, +And vent it for a Mock'rie? Heere is one: +``Two Boyes, an Oldman (twice a Boy) a Lane, +``Preseru'd the Britaines, was the Romanes bane + + Lord. Nay, be not angry Sir + + Post. Lacke, to what end? +Who dares not stand his Foe, Ile be his Friend: +For if hee'l do, as he is made to doo, +I know hee'l quickly flye my friendship too. +You haue put me into Rime + + Lord. Farewell, you're angry. +Enter. + + Post. Still going? This is a Lord: Oh Noble misery +To be i'th' Field, and aske what newes of me: +To day, how many would haue giuen their Honours +To haue sau'd their Carkasses? Tooke heele to doo't, +And yet dyed too. I, in mine owne woe charm'd +Could not finde death, where I did heare him groane, +Nor feele him where he strooke. Being an vgly Monster, +'Tis strange he hides him in fresh Cups, soft Beds, +Sweet words; or hath moe ministers then we +That draw his kniues i'th' War. Well I will finde him: +For being now a Fauourer to the Britaine, +No more a Britaine, I haue resum'd againe +The part I came in. Fight I will no more, +But yeeld me to the veriest Hinde, that shall +Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is +Heere made by'th' Romane; great the Answer be +Britaines must take. For me, my Ransome's death, +On eyther side I come to spend my breath; +Which neyther heere Ile keepe, nor beare agen, +But end it by some meanes for Imogen. +Enter two Captaines, and Soldiers. + + 1 Great Iupiter be prais'd, Lucius is taken, +'Tis thought the old man, and his sonnes, were Angels + + 2 There was a fourth man, in a silly habit, +That gaue th' Affront with them + + 1 So 'tis reported: +But none of 'em can be found. Stand, who's there? + Post. A Roman, +Who had not now beene drooping heere, if Seconds +Had answer'd him + + 2 Lay hands on him: a Dogge, +A legge of Rome shall not returne to tell +What Crows haue peckt them here: he brags his seruice +As if he were of note: bring him to'th' King. +Enter Cymbeline, Belarius, Guiderius, Aruiragus, Pisanio, and +Romane +Captiues. The Captaines present Posthumus to Cymbeline, who +deliuers him +ouer to a Gaoler. + + +Scena Quarta. + +Enter Posthumus, and Gaoler. + + Gao. You shall not now be stolne, +You haue lockes vpon you: +So graze, as you finde Pasture + + 2.Gao. I, or a stomacke + + Post. Most welcome bondage; for thou art a way +(I thinke) to liberty: yet am I better +Then one that's sicke o'th' Gowt, since he had rather +Groane so in perpetuity, then be cur'd +By'th' sure Physitian, Death; who is the key +T' vnbarre these Lockes. My Conscience, thou art fetter'd +More then my shanks, & wrists: you good Gods giue me +The penitent Instrument to picke that Bolt, +Then free for euer. Is't enough I am sorry? +So Children temporall Fathers do appease; +Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent, +I cannot do it better then in Gyues, +Desir'd, more then constrain'd, to satisfie +If of my Freedome 'tis the maine part, take +No stricter render of me, then my All. +I know you are more clement then vilde men, +Who of their broken Debtors take a third, +A sixt, a tenth, letting them thriue againe +On their abatement; that's not my desire. +For Imogens deere life, take mine, and though +'Tis not so deere, yet 'tis a life; you coyn'd it, +'Tweene man, and man, they waigh not euery stampe: +Though light, take Peeces for the figures sake, +(You rather) mine being yours: and so great Powres, +If you will take this Audit, take this life, +And cancell these cold Bonds. Oh Imogen, +Ile speake to thee in silence. + +Solemne Musicke. Enter (as in an Apparation) Sicillius Leonatus, +Father +to Posthumus, an old man, attyred like a warriour, leading in his +hand an +ancient Matron (his wife, & Mother to Posthumus) with Musicke +before them. +Then after other Musicke, followes the two young Leonati +(Brothers to +Posthumus) with wounds as they died in the warrs. They circle +Posthumus +round as he lies sleeping. + + Sicil. No more thou Thunder-Master +shew thy spight, on Mortall Flies: +With Mars fall out with Iuno chide, that thy Adulteries +Rates, and Reuenges. +Hath my poore Boy done ought but well, +whose face I neuer saw: +I dy'de whil'st in the Wombe he staide, +attending Natures Law. +Whose Father then (as men report, +thou Orphanes Father art) +Thou should'st haue bin, and sheelded him, +from this earth-vexing smart + + Moth. Lucina lent not me her ayde, +but tooke me in my Throwes, +That from me was Posthumus ript, +came crying 'mong'st his Foes. +A thing of pitty + + Sicil. Great Nature like his Ancestrie, +moulded the stuffe so faire: +That he deseru'd the praise o'th' World, +as great Sicilius heyre + + 1.Bro. When once he was mature for man, +in Britaine where was hee +That could stand vp his paralell? +Or fruitfull obiect bee? +In eye of Imogen, that best could deeme +his dignitie + + Mo. With Marriage wherefore was he mockt +to be exil'd, and throwne +From Leonati Seate, and cast from her, +his deerest one: +Sweete Imogen? + Sic. Why did you suffer Iachimo, slight thing of Italy, +To taint his Nobler hart & braine, with needlesse ielousy, +And to become the geeke and scorne o'th' others vilany? + 2 Bro. For this, from stiller Seats we came, +our Parents, and vs twaine, +That striking in our Countries cause, +fell brauely, and were slaine, +Our Fealty, & Tenantius right, with Honor to maintaine + + 1 Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath +to Cymbeline perform'd: +Then Iupiter, y King of Gods, why hast y thus adiourn'd +The Graces for his Merits due, being all to dolors turn'd? + + Sicil. Thy Christall window ope; looke, +looke out, no longer exercise +Vpon a valiant Race, thy harsh, and potent iniuries: + + Moth. Since (Iupiter) our Son is good, +take off his miseries + + Sicil. Peepe through thy Marble Mansion, helpe, +or we poore Ghosts will cry +To'th' shining Synod of the rest, against thy Deity + + Brothers. Helpe (Iupiter) or we appeale, +and from thy iustice flye. + +Iupiter descends in Thunder and Lightning, sitting vppon an Eagle: +hee +throwes a Thunder-bolt. The Ghostes fall on their knees. + + Iupiter. No more you petty Spirits of Region low +Offend our hearing: hush. How dare you Ghostes +Accuse the Thunderer, whose Bolt (you know) +Sky-planted, batters all rebelling Coasts. +Poore shadowes of Elizium, hence, and rest +Vpon your neuer-withering bankes of Flowres. +Be not with mortall accidents opprest, +No care of yours it is, you know 'tis ours. +Whom best I loue, I crosse; to make my guift +The more delay'd, delighted. Be content, +Your low-laide Sonne, our Godhead will vplift: +His Comforts thriue, his Trials well are spent: +Our Iouiall Starre reign'd at his Birth, and in +Our Temple was he married: Rise, and fade, +He shall be Lord of Lady Imogen, +And happier much by his Affliction made +This Tablet lay vpon his Brest, wherein +Our pleasure, his full Fortune, doth confine, +And so away: no farther with your dinne +Expresse Impatience, least you stirre vp mine: +Mount Eagle, to my Palace Christalline. + +Ascends + + Sicil. He came in Thunder, his Celestiall breath +Was sulphurous to smell: the holy Eagle +Stoop'd, as to foote vs: his Ascension is +More sweet then our blest Fields: his Royall Bird +Prunes the immortall wing, and cloyes his Beake, +As when his God is pleas'd + + All. Thankes Iupiter + + Sic. The Marble Pauement clozes, he is enter'd +His radiant Roofe: Away, and to be blest +Let vs with care performe his great behest. + +Vanish + + Post. Sleepe, thou hast bin a Grandsire, and begot +A Father to me: and thou hast created +A Mother, and two Brothers. But (oh scorne) +Gone, they went hence so soone as they were borne: +And so I am awake. Poore Wretches, that depend +On Greatnesse, Fauour; Dreame as I haue done, +Wake, and finde nothing. But (alas) I swerue: +Many Dreame not to finde, neither deserue, +And yet are steep'd in Fauours; so am I +That haue this Golden chance, and know not why: +What Fayeries haunt this ground? A Book? Oh rare one, +Be not, as is our fangled world, a Garment +Nobler then that it couers. Let thy effects +So follow, to be most vnlike our Courtiers, +As good, as promise. + +Reades. + +When as a Lyons whelpe, shall to himselfe vnknown, without +seeking finde, and bee embrac'd by a peece of tender +Ayre: And when from a stately Cedar shall be lopt branches, +which being dead many yeares, shall after reuiue, bee ioynted to +the old Stocke, and freshly grow, then shall Posthumus end his +miseries, Britaine be fortunate, and flourish in Peace and Plentie. +'Tis still a Dreame: or else such stuffe as Madmen +Tongue, and braine not: either both, or nothing +Or senselesse speaking, or a speaking such +As sense cannot vntye. Be what it is, +The Action of my life is like it, which Ile keepe +If but for simpathy. +Enter Gaoler. + + Gao. Come Sir, are you ready for death? + Post. Ouer-roasted rather: ready long ago + + Gao. Hanging is the word, Sir, if you bee readie for +that, you are well Cook'd + + Post. So if I proue a good repast to the Spectators, the +dish payes the shot + + Gao. A heauy reckoning for you Sir: But the comfort +is you shall be called to no more payments, fear no more +Tauerne Bils, which are often the sadnesse of parting, as +the procuring of mirth: you come in faint for want of +meate, depart reeling with too much drinke: sorrie that +you haue payed too much, and sorry that you are payed +too much: Purse and Braine, both empty: the Brain the +heauier, for being too light; the Purse too light, being +drawne of heauinesse. Oh, of this contradiction you shall +now be quit: Oh the charity of a penny Cord, it summes +vp thousands in a trice: you haue no true Debitor, and +Creditor but it: of what's past, is, and to come, the discharge: +your necke (Sir) is Pen, Booke, and Counters; so +the Acquittance followes + + Post. I am merrier to dye, then thou art to liue + + Gao. Indeed Sir, he that sleepes, feeles not the Tooth-Ache: +but a man that were to sleepe your sleepe, and a +Hangman to helpe him to bed, I think he would change +places with his Officer: for, look you Sir, you know not +which way you shall go + + Post. Yes indeed do I, fellow + + Gao. Your death has eyes in's head then: I haue not +seene him so pictur'd: you must either bee directed by +some that take vpon them to know, or to take vpon your +selfe that which I am sure you do not know: or iump the +after-enquiry on your owne perill: and how you shall +speed in your iournies end, I thinke you'l neuer returne +to tell one + + Post. I tell thee, Fellow, there are none want eyes, to +direct them the way I am going, but such as winke, and +will not vse them + + Gao. What an infinite mocke is this, that a man shold +haue the best vse of eyes, to see the way of blindnesse: I +am sure hanging's the way of winking. +Enter a Messenger. + + Mes. Knocke off his Manacles, bring your Prisoner to +the King + + Post. Thou bring'st good newes, I am call'd to bee +made free + + Gao. Ile be hang'd then + + Post. Thou shalt be then freer then a Gaoler; no bolts +for the dead + + Gao. Vnlesse a man would marry a Gallowes, & beget +yong Gibbets, I neuer saw one so prone: yet on my +Conscience, there are verier Knaues desire to liue, for all +he be a Roman; and there be some of them too that dye +against their willes; so should I, if I were one. I would +we were all of one minde, and one minde good: O there +were desolation of Gaolers and Galowses: I speake against +my present profit, but my wish hath a preferment +in't. + +Exeunt. + + +Scena Quinta. + +Enter Cymbeline, Bellarius, Guiderius, Aruiragus, Pisanio, and +Lords. + + Cym. Stand by my side you, whom the Gods haue made +Preseruers of my Throne: woe is my heart, +That the poore Souldier that so richly fought, +Whose ragges, sham'd gilded Armes, whose naked brest +Stept before Targes of proofe, cannot be found: +He shall be happy that can finde him, if +Our Grace can make him so + + Bel. I neuer saw +Such Noble fury in so poore a Thing; +Such precious deeds, in one that promist nought +But beggery, and poore lookes + + Cym. No tydings of him? + Pisa. He hath bin search'd among the dead, & liuing; +But no trace of him + + Cym. To my greefe, I am +The heyre of his Reward, which I will adde +To you (the Liuer, Heart, and Braine of Britaine) +By whom (I grant) she liues. 'Tis now the time +To aske of whence you are. Report it + + Bel. Sir, +In Cambria are we borne, and Gentlemen: +Further to boast, were neyther true, nor modest, +Vnlesse I adde, we are honest + + Cym. Bow your knees: +Arise my Knights o'th' Battell, I create you +Companions to our person, and will fit you +With Dignities becomming your estates. +Enter Cornelius and Ladies. + +There's businesse in these faces: why so sadly +Greet you our Victory? you looke like Romaines, +And not o'th' Court of Britaine + + Corn. Hayle great King, +To sowre your happinesse, I must report +The Queene is dead + + Cym. Who worse then a Physitian +Would this report become? But I consider, +By Med'cine life may be prolong'd, yet death +Will seize the Doctor too. How ended she? + Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life, +Which (being cruell to the world) concluded +Most cruell to her selfe. What she confest, +I will report, so please you. These her Women +Can trip me, if I erre, who with wet cheekes +Were present when she finish'd + + Cym. Prythee say + + Cor. First, she confest she neuer lou'd you: onely +Affected Greatnesse got by you: not you: +Married your Royalty, was wife to your place: +Abhorr'd your person + + Cym. She alone knew this: +And but she spoke it dying, I would not +Beleeue her lips in opening it. Proceed + + Corn. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to loue +With such integrity, she did confesse +Was as a Scorpion to her sight, whose life +(But that her flight preuented it) she had +Tane off by poyson + + Cym. O most delicate Fiend! +Who is't can reade a Woman? Is there more? + Corn. More Sir, and worse. She did confesse she had +For you a mortall Minerall, which being tooke, +Should by the minute feede on life, and ling'ring, +By inches waste you. In which time, she purpos'd +By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to +Orecome you with her shew; and in time +(When she had fitted you with her craft, to worke +Her Sonne into th' adoption of the Crowne: +But fayling of her end by his strange absence, +Grew shamelesse desperate, open'd (in despight +Of Heauen, and Men) her purposes: repented +The euils she hatch'd, were not effected: so +Dispayring, dyed + + Cym. Heard you all this, her Women? + La. We did, so please your Highnesse + + 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. + +Thou comm'st not Caius now for Tribute, that +The Britaines haue rac'd out, though with the losse +Of many a bold one: whose Kinsmen haue made suite +That their good soules may be appeas'd, with slaughter +Of you their Captiues, which our selfe haue granted, +So thinke of your estate + + Luc. Consider Sir, the chance of Warre, the day +Was yours by accident: had it gone with vs, +We should not when the blood was cool, haue threatend +Our Prisoners with the Sword. But since the Gods +Will haue it thus, that nothing but our liues +May be call'd ransome, let it come: Sufficeth, +A Roman, with a Romans heart can suffer: +Augustus liues to thinke on't: and so much +For my peculiar care. This one thing onely +I will entreate, my Boy (a Britaine borne) +Let him be ransom'd: Neuer Master had +A Page so kinde, so duteous, diligent, +So tender ouer his occasions, true, +So feate, so Nurse-like: let his vertue ioyne +With my request, which Ile make bold your Highnesse +Cannot deny: he hath done no Britaine harme, +Though he haue seru'd a Roman. Saue him (Sir) +And spare no blood beside + + Cym. I haue surely seene him: +His fauour is familiar to me: Boy, +Thou hast look'd thy selfe into my grace, +And art mine owne. I know not why, wherefore, +To say, liue boy: ne're thanke thy Master, liue; +And aske of Cymbeline what Boone thou wilt, +Fitting my bounty, and thy state, Ile giue it: +Yea, though thou do demand a Prisoner +The Noblest tane + + Imo. I humbly thanke your Highnesse + + Luc. I do not bid thee begge my life, good Lad, +And yet I know thou wilt + + Imo. No, no, alacke, +There's other worke in hand: I see a thing +Bitter to me, as death: your life, good Master, +Must shuffle for it selfe + + Luc. The Boy disdaines me, +He leaues me, scornes me: briefely dye their ioyes, +That place them on the truth of Gyrles, and Boyes. +Why stands he so perplext? + Cym. What would'st thou Boy? +I loue thee more, and more: thinke more and more +What's best to aske. Know'st him thou look'st on? speak +Wilt haue him liue? Is he thy Kin? thy Friend? + Imo. He is a Romane, no more kin to me, +Then I to your Highnesse, who being born your vassaile +Am something neerer + + Cym. Wherefore ey'st him so? + Imo. Ile tell you (Sir) in priuate, if you please +To giue me hearing + + Cym. I, with all my heart, +And lend my best attention. What's thy name? + Imo. Fidele Sir + + Cym. Thou'rt my good youth: my Page +Ile be thy Master: walke with me: speake freely + + Bel. Is not this Boy reuiu'd from death? + Arui. One Sand another +Not more resembles that sweet Rosie Lad: +Who dyed, and was Fidele: what thinke you? + Gui. The same dead thing aliue + + Bel. Peace, peace, see further: he eyes vs not, forbeare +Creatures may be alike: were't he, I am sure +He would haue spoke to vs + + Gui. But we see him dead + + Bel. Be silent: let's see further + + Pisa. It is my Mistris: +Since she is liuing, let the time run on, +To good, or bad + + Cym. Come, stand thou by our side, +Make thy demand alowd. Sir, step you forth, +Giue answer to this Boy, and do it freely, +Or by our Greatnesse, and the grace of it +(Which is our Honor) bitter torture shall +Winnow the truth from falshood. One speake to him + + Imo. My boone is, that this Gentleman may render +Of whom he had this Ring + + Post. What's that to him? + Cym. That Diamond vpon your Finger, say +How came it yours? + Iach. Thou'lt torture me to leaue vnspoken, that +Which to be spoke, wou'd torture thee + + Cym. How? me? + Iach. I am glad to be constrain'd to vtter that +Which torments me to conceale. By Villany +I got this Ring: 'twas Leonatus Iewell, +Whom thou did'st banish: and which more may greeue thee, +As it doth me: a Nobler Sir, ne're liu'd +'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou heare more my Lord? + Cym. All that belongs to this + + Iach. That Paragon, thy daughter, +For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits +Quaile to remember. Giue me leaue, I faint + + Cym. My Daughter? what of hir? Renew thy strength +I had rather thou should'st liue, while Nature will, +Then dye ere I heare more: striue man, and speake + + Iach. Vpon a time, vnhappy was the clocke +That strooke the houre: it was in Rome, accurst +The Mansion where: 'twas at a Feast, oh would +Our Viands had bin poyson'd (or at least +Those which I heau'd to head:) the good Posthumus, +(What should I say? he was too good to be +Where ill men were, and was the best of all +Among'st the rar'st of good ones) sitting sadly, +Hearing vs praise our Loues of Italy +For Beauty, that made barren the swell'd boast +Of him that best could speake: for Feature, laming +The Shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerua, +Postures, beyond breefe Nature. For Condition, +A shop of all the qualities, that man +Loues woman for, besides that hooke of Wiuing, +Fairenesse, which strikes the eye + + Cym. I stand on fire. Come to the matter + + Iach. All too soone I shall, +Vnlesse thou would'st greeue quickly. This Posthumus, +Most like a Noble Lord, in loue, and one +That had a Royall Louer, tooke his hint, +And (not dispraising whom we prais'd, therein +He was as calme as vertue) he began +His Mistris picture, which, by his tongue, being made, +And then a minde put in't, either our bragges +Were crak'd of Kitchin-Trulles, or his description +Prou'd vs vnspeaking sottes + + Cym. Nay, nay, to'th' purpose + + Iach. Your daughters Chastity, (there it beginnes) +He spake of her, as Dian had hot dreames, +And she alone, were cold: Whereat, I wretch +Made scruple of his praise, and wager'd with him +Peeces of Gold, 'gainst this, which then he wore +Vpon his honour'd finger) to attaine +In suite the place of's bed, and winne this Ring +By hers, and mine Adultery: he (true Knight) +No lesser of her Honour confident +Then I did truly finde her, stakes this Ring, +And would so, had it beene a Carbuncle +Of Phoebus Wheele; and might so safely, had it +Bin all the worth of's Carre. Away to Britaine +Poste I in this designe: Well may you (Sir) +Remember me at Court, where I was taught +Of your chaste Daughter, the wide difference +'Twixt Amorous, and Villanous. Being thus quench'd +Of hope, not longing; mine Italian braine, +Gan in your duller Britaine operate +Most vildely: for my vantage excellent. +And to be breefe, my practise so preuayl'd +That I return'd with simular proofe enough, +To make the Noble Leonatus mad, +By wounding his beleefe in her Renowne, +With Tokens thus, and thus: auerring notes +Of Chamber-hanging, Pictures, this her Bracelet +(Oh cunning how I got) nay some markes +Of secret on her person, that he could not +But thinke her bond of Chastity quite crack'd, +I hauing 'tane the forfeyt. Whereupon, +Me thinkes I see him now + + Post. I so thou do'st, +Italian Fiend. Aye me, most credulous Foole, +Egregious murtherer, Theefe, any thing +That's due to all the Villaines past, in being +To come. Oh giue me Cord, or knife, or poyson, +Some vpright Iusticer. Thou King, send out +For Torturors ingenious: it is I +That all th' abhorred things o'th' earth amend +By being worse then they. I am Posthumus, +That kill'd thy Daughter: Villain-like, I lye, +That caus'd a lesser villaine then my selfe, +A sacrilegious Theefe to doo't. The Temple +Of Vertue was she; yea, and she her selfe. +Spit, and throw stones, cast myre vpon me, set +The dogges o'th' street to bay me: euery villaine +Be call'd Posthumus Leonatus, and +Be villany lesse then 'twas. Oh Imogen! +My Queene, my life, my wife: oh Imogen, +Imogen, Imogen + + Imo. Peace my Lord, heare, heare + + Post. Shall's haue a play of this? +Thou scornfull Page, there lye thy part + + Pis. Oh Gentlemen, helpe, +Mine and your Mistris: Oh my Lord Posthumus, +You ne're kill'd Imogen till now: helpe, helpe, +Mine honour'd Lady + + Cym. Does the world go round? + Posth. How comes these staggers on mee? + Pisa. Wake my Mistris + + Cym. If this be so, the Gods do meane to strike me +To death, with mortall ioy + + Pisa. How fares my Mistris? + Imo. Oh get thee from my sight, +Thou gau'st me poyson: dangerous Fellow hence, +Breath not where Princes are + + Cym. The tune of Imogen + + Pisa. Lady, the Gods throw stones of sulpher on me, if +That box I gaue you, was not thought by mee +A precious thing, I had it from the Queene + + Cym. New matter still + + Imo. It poyson'd me + + Corn. Oh Gods! +I left out one thing which the Queene confest, +Which must approue thee honest. If Pasanio +Haue (said she) giuen his Mistris that Confection +Which I gaue him for Cordiall, she is seru'd, +As I would serue a Rat + + Cym. What's this, Cornelius? + Corn. The Queene (Sir) very oft importun'd me +To temper poysons for her, still pretending +The satisfaction of her knowledge, onely +In killing Creatures vilde, as Cats and Dogges +Of no esteeme. I dreading, that her purpose +Was of more danger, did compound for her +A certaine stuffe, which being tane, would cease +The present powre of life, but in short time, +All Offices of Nature, should againe +Do their due Functions. Haue you tane of it? + Imo. Most like I did, for I was dead + + Bel. My Boyes, there was our error + + Gui. This is sure Fidele + + Imo. Why did you throw your wedded Lady fro[m] you? +Thinke that you are vpon a Rocke, and now +Throw me againe + + Post. Hang there like fruite, my soule, +Till the Tree dye + + Cym. How now, my Flesh? my Childe? +What, mak'st thou me a dullard in this Act? +Wilt thou not speake to me? + Imo. Your blessing, Sir + + Bel. Though you did loue this youth, I blame ye not, +You had a motiue for't + + Cym. My teares that fall +Proue holy-water on thee; Imogen, +Thy Mothers dead + + Imo. I am sorry for't, my Lord + + Cym. Oh, she was naught; and long of her it was +That we meet heere so strangely: but her Sonne +Is gone, we know not how, nor where + + Pisa. My Lord, +Now feare is from me, Ile speake troth. Lord Cloten +Vpon my Ladies missing, came to me +With his Sword drawne, foam'd at the mouth, and swore +If I discouer'd not which way she was gone, +It was my instant death. By accident, +I had a feigned Letter of my Masters +Then in my pocket, which directed him +To seeke her on the Mountaines neere to Milford, +Where in a frenzie, in my Masters Garments +(Which he inforc'd from me) away he postes +With vnchaste purpose, and with oath to violate +My Ladies honor, what became of him, +I further know not + + Gui. Let me end the Story: I slew him there + + Cym. Marry, the Gods forefend. +I would not thy good deeds, should from my lips +Plucke a hard sentence: Prythee valiant youth +Deny't againe + + Gui. I haue spoke it, and I did it + + Cym. He was a Prince + + Gui. A most inciuill one. The wrongs he did mee +Were nothing Prince-like; for he did prouoke me +With Language that would make me spurne the Sea, +If it could so roare to me. I cut off's head, +And am right glad he is not standing heere +To tell this tale of mine + + Cym. I am sorrow for thee: +By thine owne tongue thou art condemn'd, and must +Endure our Law: Thou'rt dead + + Imo. That headlesse man I thought had bin my Lord + Cym. Binde the Offender, +And take him from our presence + + Bel. Stay, Sir King. +This man is better then the man he slew, +As well descended as thy selfe, and hath +More of thee merited, then a Band of Clotens +Had euer scarre for. Let his Armes alone, +They were not borne for bondage + + Cym. Why old Soldier: +Wilt thou vndoo the worth thou art vnpayd for +By tasting of our wrath? How of descent +As good as we? + Arui. In that he spake too farre + + Cym. And thou shalt dye for't + + Bel. We will dye all three, +But I will proue that two one's are as good +As I haue giuen out him. My Sonnes, I must +For mine owne part, vnfold a dangerous speech, +Though haply well for you + + Arui. Your danger's ours + + Guid. And our good his + + Bel. Haue at it then, by leaue +Thou hadd'st (great King) a Subiect, who +Was call'd Belarius + + Cym. What of him? He is a banish'd Traitor + + Bel. He it is, that hath +Assum'd this age: indeed a banish'd man, +I know not how, a Traitor + + Cym. Take him hence, +The whole world shall not saue him + + Bel. Not too hot; +First pay me for the Nursing of thy Sonnes, +And let it be confiscate all, so soone +As I haue receyu'd it + + Cym. Nursing of my Sonnes? + Bel. I am too blunt, and sawcy: heere's my knee: +Ere I arise, I will preferre my Sonnes, +Then spare not the old Father. Mighty Sir, +These two young Gentlemen that call me Father, +And thinke they are my Sonnes, are none of mine, +They are the yssue of your Loynes, my Liege, +And blood of your begetting + + Cym. How? my Issue + + Bel. So sure as you, your Fathers: I (old Morgan) +Am that Belarius, whom you sometime banish'd: +Your pleasure was my neere offence, my punishment +It selfe, and all my Treason that I suffer'd, +Was all the harme I did. These gentle Princes +(For such, and so they are) these twenty yeares +Haue I train'd vp; those Arts they haue, as I +Could put into them. My breeding was (Sir) +As your Highnesse knowes: Their Nurse Euriphile +(Whom for the Theft I wedded) stole these Children +Vpon my Banishment: I moou'd her too't, +Hauing receyu'd the punishment before +For that which I did then. Beaten for Loyaltie, +Excited me to Treason. Their deere losse, +The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shap'd +Vnto my end of stealing them. But gracious Sir, +Heere are your Sonnes againe, and I must loose +Two of the sweet'st Companions in the World. +The benediction of these couering Heauens +Fall on their heads like dew, for they are worthie +To in-lay Heauen with Starres + + Cym. Thou weep'st, and speak'st: +The Seruice that you three haue done, is more +Vnlike, then this thou tell'st. I lost my Children, +If these be they, I know not how to wish +A payre of worthier Sonnes + + Bel. Be pleas'd awhile; +This Gentleman, whom I call Polidore, +Most worthy Prince, as yours, is true Guiderius: +This Gentleman, my Cadwall, Aruiragus. +Your yonger Princely Son, he Sir, was lapt +In a most curious Mantle, wrought by th' hand +Of his Queene Mother, which for more probation +I can with ease produce + + Cym. Guiderius had +Vpon his necke a Mole, a sanguine Starre, +It was a marke of wonder + + Bel. This is he, +Who hath vpon him still that naturall stampe: +It was wise Natures end, in the donation +To be his euidence now + + Cym. Oh, what am I +A Mother to the byrth of three? Nere Mother +Reioyc'd deliuerance more: Blest, pray you be, +That after this strange starting from your Orbes, +You may reigne in them now: Oh Imogen, +Thou hast lost by this a Kingdome + + Imo. No, my Lord: +I haue got two Worlds by't. Oh my gentle Brothers, +Haue we thus met? Oh neuer say heereafter +But I am truest speaker. You call'd me Brother +When I was but your Sister: I you Brothers, +When we were so indeed + + Cym. Did you ere meete? + Arui. I my good Lord + + Gui. And at first meeting lou'd, +Continew'd so, vntill we thought he dyed + + Corn. By the Queenes Dramme she swallow'd + + Cym. O rare instinct! +When shall I heare all through? This fierce abridgment, +Hath to it Circumstantiall branches, which +Distinction should be rich in. Where? how liu'd you? +And when came you to serue our Romane Captiue? +How parted with your Brother? How first met them? +Why fled you from the Court? And whether these? +And your three motiues to the Battaile? with +I know not how much more should be demanded, +And all the other by-dependances +From chance to chance? But nor the Time, nor Place +Will serue our long Interrogatories. See, +Posthumus Anchors vpon Imogen; +And she (like harmlesse Lightning) throwes her eye +On him: her Brothers, Me: her Master hitting +Each obiect with a Ioy: the Counter-change +Is seuerally in all. Let's quit this ground, +And smoake the Temple with our Sacrifices. +Thou art my Brother, so wee'l hold thee euer + + Imo. You are my Father too, and did releeue me: +To see this gracious season + + Cym. All ore-ioy'd +Saue these in bonds, let them be ioyfull too, +For they shall taste our Comfort + + Imo. My good Master, I will yet do you seruice + + Luc. Happy be you + + Cym. The forlorne Souldier, that so Nobly fought +He would haue well becom'd this place, and grac'd +The thankings of a King + + Post. I am Sir +The Souldier that did company these three +In poore beseeming: 'twas a fitment for +The purpose I then follow'd. That I was he, +Speake Iachimo, I had you downe, and might +Haue made you finish + + Iach. I am downe againe: +But now my heauie Conscience sinkes my knee, +As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you +Which I so often owe: but your Ring first, +And heere the Bracelet of the truest Princesse +That euer swore the Faith + + Post. Kneele not to me: +The powre that I haue on you, is to spare you: +The malice towards you, to forgiue you. Liue +And deale with others better + + Cym. Nobly doom'd: +Wee'l learne our Freenesse of a Sonne-in-Law: +Pardon's the word to all + + Arui. You holpe vs Sir, +As you did meane indeed to be our Brother, +Ioy'd are we, that you are + + Post. Your Seruant Princes. Good my Lord of Rome +Call forth your Sooth-sayer: As I slept, me thought +Great Iupiter vpon his Eagle back'd +Appear'd to me, with other sprightly shewes +Of mine owne Kindred. When I wak'd, I found +This Labell on my bosome; whose containing +Is so from sense in hardnesse, that I can +Make no Collection of it. Let him shew +His skill in the construction + + Luc. Philarmonus + + Sooth. Heere, my good Lord + + Luc. Read, and declare the meaning. + +Reades. + +When as a Lyons whelpe, shall to himselfe vnknown, without +seeking finde, and bee embrac'd by a peece of tender +Ayre: And when from a stately Cedar shall be lopt branches, +which being dead many yeares, shall after reuiue, bee ioynted to +the old Stocke, and freshly grow, then shall Posthumus end his +miseries, Britaine be fortunate, and flourish in Peace and Plentie. +Thou Leonatus art the Lyons Whelpe, +The fit and apt Construction of thy name +Being Leonatus, doth import so much: +The peece of tender Ayre, thy vertuous Daughter, +Which we call Mollis Aer, and Mollis Aer +We terme it Mulier; which Mulier I diuine +Is this most constant Wife, who euen now +Answering the Letter of the Oracle, +Vnknowne to you vnsought, were clipt about +With this most tender Aire + + Cym. This hath some seeming + + Sooth. The lofty Cedar, Royall Cymbeline +Personates thee: And thy lopt Branches, point +Thy two Sonnes forth: who by Belarius stolne +For many yeares thought dead, are now reuiu'd +To the Maiesticke Cedar ioyn'd; whose Issue +Promises Britaine, Peace and Plenty + + Cym. Well, +My Peace we will begin: And Caius Lucius, +Although the Victor, we submit to Caesar, +And to the Romane Empire; promising +To pay our wonted Tribute, from the which +We were disswaded by our wicked Queene, +Whom heauens in Iustice both on her, and hers, +Haue laid most heauy hand + + 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 Caesar, should againe vnite +His Fauour, with the Radiant Cymbeline, +Which shines heere in the West + + Cym. Laud we the Gods, +And let our crooked Smoakes climbe to their Nostrils +From our blest Altars. Publish we this Peace +To all our Subiects. Set we forward: Let +A Roman, and a Brittish Ensigne waue +Friendly together: so through Luds-Towne march, +And in the Temple of great Iupiter +Our Peace wee'l ratifie: Seale it with Feasts. +Set on there: Neuer was a Warre did cease +(Ere bloodie hands were wash'd) with such a Peace. + +Exeunt. + + +FINIS. + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 2269 *** |