The Tragedie of Cymbeline

THE TRAGEDIE OF CYMBELINE.

Actus Primus. Scœna Prima.

Enter two Gentlemen.

1. Gent. YOu do not meet a man but Frownes. Our bloods no more obey the Heauens Then…

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…

2 None but the King?

1 He that hath lost her too: so is the Queene, That most desir'd the Match. But not…

2 And why so?

1 He that hath miss'd the Princesse, is a thing Too bad, for bad report: and he that…

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…

2 I honor him, euen out of your report. But pray you tell me, is she sole childe…

1 His onely childe: He had two Sonnes (if this be worth your hearing, Marke it) the eldest…

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…

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…

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,…

Exit

Imo. O dissembling Curtesie! How fine this Tyrant Can tickle where she wounds? My deerest Husband, I something…

Post. My Queene, my Mistris: O Lady, weepe no more, least I giue cause To be suspected of…

Enter Queene.

Qu. Be briefe, I pray you: If the King come, I shall incurre, I know not How much…

Post. Should we be taking leaue As long a terme as yet we haue to liue, The loathnesse…

Imo. Nay, stay a little: Were you but riding forth to ayre your selfe, Such parting were too…

Post. How, how? Another? You gentle Gods, giue me but this I haue, And seare vp my embracements…

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…

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;…

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…

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,…

Qu. Beseech your patience: Peace Deere Lady daughter, peace. Sweet Soueraigne, Leaue vs to our selues, and make…

Cym. Nay, let her languish A drop of blood a day, and being aged Dye of this Folly.

Exit.

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…

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,…

Pisa. On his command: he would not suffer mee To bring him to the Hauen: left these Notes…

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…

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Clotten, and two Lords.

1. Sir, I would aduise you to shift a Shirt; the Vio­ lence of Action hath made you…

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…

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…

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 re­ fuse 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…

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…

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…

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…

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…

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…

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 Dutch­ man, and a Spaniard.

Iach. Beleeue it Sir, I haue seene him in Britaine; hee was then of a Cressent note, expected…

Phil. You speake of him when he was lesse furnish'd, then now hee is, with that which makes…

French. I haue seene him in France: wee had very ma­ ny there, could behold the Sunne, with…

Iach. This matter of marrying his Kings Daughter, wherein he must be weighed rather by her valew, then…

French. And then his banishment.

Iach. I, and the approbation of those that weepe this lamentable diuorce vnder her colours, are wonderfully to…

Phil. His Father and I were Souldiers together, to whom I haue bin often bound for no lesse…

French. Sir, we haue knowne togither in Orleance.

Post. Since when, I haue bin debtor to you for courte­ sies, which I will be euer to…

French. Sir, you o're‑rate my poore kindnesse, I was glad I did attone my Countryman and you: it…

Post. By your pardon Sir, I was then a young Trauel­ ler, rather shun'd to go euen with…

French. Faith yes, to be put to the arbiterment of Swords, and by such two, that would by…

Iach. Can we with manners, aske what was the dif­ ference?

French. Safely, I thinke, 'twas a contention in pub­ licke, which may (without contradiction) suffer the re­ port.…

Iach. That Lady is not now liuing; or this Gentle­ mans 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…

Iach. As faire, and as good: a kind of hand in hand comparison, had beene something too faire,…

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 gi­ uen, or if there were wealth enough…

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…

Post. Your Italy, containes none so accomplish'd a Courtier to conuince the Honour of my Mistris: if in…

Phil. Let vs leaue heere, Gentlemen?

Post. Sir, with all my heart. This worthy Signior I thanke him, makes no stranger of me, we…

Iach. With fiue times so much conuersation, I should get ground of your faire Mistris; make her go…

Post. No, no.

Iach. I dare thereupon pawne the moytie of my E­ state, to your Ring, which in my opinion…

Post. You are a great deale abus'd in too bold a per­ swasion, and I doubt not you…

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 so­ dainely, let it dye as it was borne,…

Iach. Would I had put my Fstate, 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…

Posthmus. I will wage against your Gold, Gold to it: My Ring I holde deere as my finger,…

Iaeh. You are a Friend, and there in the wiser: if you buy Ladies flesh at a Million…

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 vn­ der‑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.…

Phil. I will haue it no lay.

Iach. By the Gods it is one: if I bring you no suffi­ cient testimony that I haue…

Post. I embrace these Conditions, let vs haue Articles betwixt vs: onely thus farre you shall answere, if…

Iach. Your hand, a Couenant: wee will haue these things set downe by lawfull Counsell, and straight away…

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…

Qu. I wonder, Doctor, Thou ask'st me such a Question: Haue I not bene Thy Pupill long? Hast…

Cor. Your Highnesse Shall from this practise, but make hard your heart: Besides, the seeing these effects will…

Qu. O content thee. Enter Pisanio. Heere comes a flattering Rascall, vpon him Will I first worke: Hee's…

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…

Qu. No further seruice, Doctor, Vntill I send for thee.

Cor. I humbly take my leaue.

Exit.

Qu. Weepes she still (saist thou?) Dost thou thinke in time She will not quench, and let instructions…

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…

Exit.

Scena Septima.

Enter Imogen alone.

Imo. A Father cruell, and a Stepdame false, A Foolish Suitor to a Wedded‑Lady, That hath her Husband…

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…

Imogen reads. He is one of the Noblest note, to whose kindnesses I am most in­ finitely tied.…

Iach. Thankes fairest Lady: What are men mad? Hath Nature giuen them eyes To see this vaulted Arch,…

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…

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…

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…

Pisa. I was going Sir, To giue him welcome.

Exit.

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…

Imo. Will my Lord say so?

Iach. I Madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter, It is a Recreation to be by And…

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;…

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…

Iach. That others do, (I was about to say) enioy your ⸺but It is an office of the…

Imo. You do seeme to know Something of me, or what concernes me; pray you Since doubting things…

Iach' Had I this cheeke To bathe my lips vpon: this hand, whose touch, (Whose euery touch) would…

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…

Imo. Let me heare no more.

Iach. O deerest Soule: your Cause doth strike my hart With pitty, that doth make me sicke. A…

Imo. Reueng'd: How should I be reueng'd? If this be true, (As I haue such a Heart, that…

Iach. Should he make me Liue like Diana's Priest, betwixt cold sheets, Whiles he is vaulting variable Rampes…

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…

Iach. O happy Leonatus I may say, The credit that thy Lady hath of thee Deserues thy trust,…

Imo. You make amends.

Iach. He sits 'mongst men, like a defended God; He hath a kinde of Honor sets him off,…

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…

Imo. Pray what is't?

Iach. Some dozen Romanes of vs, and your Lord (The best Feather of our wing) haue mingled summes…

Imo. Willingly: And pawne mine Honor for their safety, since My Lord hath interest in them, I will…

Iach. They are in a Trunke Attended by my men: I will make bold To send them to…

Imo. O no, no.

Iach. Yes I beseech: or I shall short my word By length'ning my returne. From Gallia, I crost…

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…

Imo. I will write: Send your Trunke to me, it shall safe be kept, And truely yeelded you:…

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…

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…

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…

2. You are Cocke and Capon too, and you crow Cock, with your combe on.

Clot. Sayest thou?

2. It is not fit you 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 der ogation 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…

2. Ile attend your Lordship. Exit. That such a craftie Diuell as is his Mother Should yeild the…

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…

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…

Though this a heauenly Angell: hell is heere. Clocke strikes One, two, three: time, time.

Exit.

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…

1 Day, my Lord.

Clot. I would this Musicke would come: I am adui­ sed to giue her Musicke a mornings, they…

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 fo earely:…

Cym. Attend you here the doore of our stern daughter Will she not forth?

Clot. I haue assayl'd her with Musickes, but she vouch­ safes no notice.

Cym. The Exile of her Minion is too new, She hath not yet forgot him, some more time…

Qu. You are most bound t/o'th'King, Who let's go by no vantages, that may Preferre you to his…

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…

Exeunt.

Clot. If she be vp, Ile speake with her: if not Let her lye still, and dreame: by…

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…

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,…

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…

Clot. This is no answer.

Imo. But that you shall not say, I yeeld being silent, I would not speake. I pray you…

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…

Clot. You sinne against Obedience, which you owe your Father, for The Contract you pretend with that base…

Imo. Prophane Fellow: Wert thou the Sonne of Iupiter, and no more, But what thou art besides: thou…

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…

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…

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.…

Exit.

Clot. Ile be reueng'd: His mean'st Garment? Well.

Exit.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Posthumus, and Philario.

Post. Feare it not Sir: I would I were so sure To winne the King, as I am…

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…

Phil. Your very goodnesse, and your company, Ore‑payes all I can do. By this your King, Hath heard…

Post. I do beleeue (Statist though I am none, nor like to be) That this will proue a…

Enter Iachimo.

Phi. See Iachimo.

Post. The swiftest Harts, haue posted you by land; And Windes of all the Corners kiss'd your Sailes,…

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…

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…

Iach. If I haue lost it, I should haue lost the worth of it in Gold, Ile make…

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…

Post. If you can mak't apparent That you haue tasted her in Bed; my hand, And Ring is…

Iach. Sir, my Circumstances Being so nere the Truth, as I will make them, Must first induce you…

Post. Proceed.

Iach. First, her Bed‑chamber (Where I confesse I slept not, but professe Had that was well worth watching)…

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…

Post. This is a thing Which you might from Relation likewise reape, Being, as it is, much spoke…

Iach. The Roofe o'th'Chamber, With golden Cherubins is fretted. Her Andirons (I had forgot them) were two winking…

Post. This is her Honor: Let it be granted you haue seene all this (and praise Be giuen…

Iach. Then if you can Be pale, I begge but leaue to ayre this Iewell: See, And now…

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…

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,…

Phil. Haue patience Sir, And take your Ring againe, 'tis not yet wonne: It may be probable she…

Post. Very true, And so I hope he came by't: backe my Ring, Render to me some corporall…

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…

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…

Post. I, and it doth confirme Another staine, as bigge as Hell can hold, Were there no more…

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,…

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,…

Exit.

Phil. Quite besides The gouernment of Patience. You haue wonne: Let's follow him, and peruert the present wrath…

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,…

Exit.

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 Cæsar with vs?

Luc. When Iulius Cæsar (whose remembrance yet Liues in mens eyes, and will to Eares and Tongues Be…

Qu. And to kill the meruaile, Shall be so euer.

Clot. There be many Cæsars, Ere such another Iulius: Britaine's a world By it selfe, and we will…

Qu. That opportunity Which then they had to take from's, to resume We haue againe. Remember Sir, my…

Clot. Come, there's no more Tribute to be paid: our Kingdome is stronger then it was at that…

Cym. Son, let your Mother end.

Clot. We haue yet many among vs, can gripe as hard as Cassibulan, I doe not say I…

Cym. You must know, Till the iniurious Romans, did extort This Tribute from vs, we were free. Cæsars…

Luc. I am sorry Cymbeline, That I am to pronounce Augustus Cæsar (Cæsar, that hath moe Kings his…

Cym. Thou art welcome Caius, Thy Cæsar Knighted me; my youth I spent Much vnder him; of him,…

Luc. Let proofe speake.

Clot. His Maiesty biddes you welcome. Make pa­ stime with vs, a day, or two, or longer: if…

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…

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…

And our returne, to excuse: but first, how get hence. Why should excuse be borne or ere begot?…

Pis. One score 'twixt Sun, and Sun, Madam's enough for you: and too much too.

Imo. Why, one that rode to's Excution Man, Could neuer go so slow: I haue heard of Riding…

Pisa. Madam, you're best consider.

Imo. I see before me (Man) nor heere, nor heere; Nor what ensues but haue a Fog in…

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,…

Guid. Haile Heauen.

Aruir. Haile Heauen.

Bela. Now for our Mountaine sport, vp to yond hill Your legges are yong: Ile tread these Flats.…

Gui. Out of your proofe you speak: we poore vnfledg'd Haue neuer wing'd from view o'th'nest; nor knowes…

Arui. What should we speake of When we are old as you? When we shall heare The Raine…

Bel. How you speake. Did you but know the Citties Vsuries, And felt them knowingly: the Art o'th'Court,…

Gui. Vncertaine fauour.

Bel. My fault being nothing (as I haue told you oft) But that two Villaines, whose false Oathes…

Thou refts me of my Lands. Euriphile, Thou was't their Nurse, they took thee for their mother, And…

Exit.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Pisanio and Imogen.

Imo. Thou told'st me when we came frō horse, yͤ place Was neere at hand: Ne're long'd my…

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…

Pis. What shall I need to draw my Sword, the Paper Hath cut her throat alreadie? No, 'tis…

Imo. False to his Bed? What is it to be false? To lye in watch there, and to…

Pisa. Alas good Lady.

Imo. I false? Thy Conscience witnesse: Iachimo, Thou didd'st accuse him of Incontinencie, Thou then look'dst like a…

Pisa. Good Madam, heare me.

Imo. True honest men being heard, like false Æneas, Were in his time thought false: and Synons weeping…

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…

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?…

Pis. But to win time To loose so bad employment, in the which I haue consider'd of a…

Imo. Talke thy tongue weary, speake: I haue heard I am a Strumpet, and mine eare Therein false…

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:…

Imo. Some Roman Curtezan?

Pisa. No, on my life: Ile giue but notice you are dead, and send him Some bloody signe…

Imo. Why good Fellow, What shall I do the while? Where bide? How liue? Or in my life,…

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…

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?…

Pis. I am most glad You thinke of other place: Th'Ambassador, Lucius the Romane comes to Milford‑Hauen To…

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,…

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)…

Imo. Thou art all the comfort The Gods will diet me with. Prythee away, There's more to be…

Pis. Well Madam, we must take a short farewell, Least being mist, I be suspected of Your carriage…

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…

Cym. Our Subiects (Sir) Will not endure his yoake; and for our selfe To shew lesse Soueraignty then…

Luc. So Sir: I desire of you A Conduct ouer Land, to Milford‑Hauen. Madam, all ioy befall your…

Cym. My Lords, you are appointed for that Office: The due of Honor, in no point omit: So…

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…

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…

Qu. Royall Sir, Since the exile of Posthumus, most retyr'd Hath her life bin: the Cure whereof, my…

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…

Qu. My Lord, when last I went to visit her, She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close,…

Cym. Her doores lock'd? Not seene of late? Grant Heauens, that which I Feare, proue false.

Exit.

Qu. Sonne, I say, follow the King.

Clot. That man of hers, Pisanio, her old Seruant I haue not seene these two dayes.

Exit.

Qu. Go, looke after: Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus, He hath a Drugge of mine: I…

Clot. 'Tis certaine she is fled: Go in and cheere the King, he rages, none Dare come about…

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…

Pis. Oh, good my Lord.

Clo. Where is thy Lady? Or, by Iupiter, I will not aske againe. Close Villaine, Ile haue this…

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…

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,…

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…

Pis. Well, my good Lord.

Clot. Wilt thou serue mee? For since patiently and constantly thou hast stucke to the bare Fortune of…

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…

Clo. The first seruice thou dost mee, fetch that Suite hither, let it be thy first seruice, go.

Pis. I shall my Lord.

Exit.

Clo. Meet thee at Milford‑Hauen: (I forgot to aske him one thing, Ile remember't anon:) euen there, thou…

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…

Exit.

Pis. Thou bid'st me to my losse: for true to thee, Were to proue false, which I will…

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…

Exit.

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…

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…

Gui. Money? Youth.

Aru. All Gold and Siluer rather turne to durt, As 'tis no better reckon'd, but of those Who…

Imo. I see you're angry: Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should Haue dyed, had…

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…

Bel. Prythee (faire youth) Thinke vs no Churles: nor measure our good mindes By this rude place we…

Gui. Were you a woman, youth, I should woo hard, but be your Groome in honesty: I bid…

Arui. Ile make't my Comfort He is a man, Ile loue him as my Brother: And such a…

Imo. 'Mongst Friends? If Brothers: would it had bin so, that they Had bin my Fathers Sonnes, then…

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…

Bel. It shall be so: Boyes wee'l go dresse our Hunt. Faire youth come in; Discourse is heauy,…

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…

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…

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…

EXit.

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…

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…

Gui. I loue thee: I haue spoke it, How much the quantity, the waight as much, As I…

Bel. What? How? how?

Arui. If it be sinne to say so (Sir) I yoake mee In my good Brothers fault: I…

Bel. Oh noble straine! O worthinesse of Nature, breed of Greatnesse! “Cowards father Cowards, & Base things Syre…

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…

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.

Exit.

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…

Arui. Nobly he yoakes A smiling, with a sigh; as if the sighe Was that it was, for…

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…

Gui. He is but one: you, and my Brother search What Companies are neere: pray you away, Let…

Clot. Soft, what are you That flye me thus? Some villaine‑Mountainers? I haue heard of such. What Slaue…

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…

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)…

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…

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,…

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…

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…

Arui. In this place we left them; I wish my Brother make good time with him, You say…

Bel. Being scarse made vp, I meane to man; he had not apprehension Of roaring terrors: For defect…

Gui. This Cloten was a Foole, an empty purse, There was no money in't: Not Hercules Could haue…

Bel. What hast thou done?

Gui. I am perfect what: cut off one Clotens head, Sonne to the Queene (after his owne report)…

Bel. We are all vndone.

Gui. Why, worthy Father, what haue we to loose, But that he swore to take, our Liues? the…

Bel. No single soule Can we set eye on: but in all safe reason He must haue some…

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…

Gui. With his owne Sword, Which he did waue against my throat, I haue tane His head from…

Exit.

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…

Bel. Well, 'tis done: Wee'l hunt no more to day, nor seeke for danger Where there's no profit.…

Arui. Poore sicke Fidele. Ile willingly to him, to gaine his colour, Il'd let a parish of such…

Exit.

Bel. Oh thou Goddesse, Thou diuine Nature; thou thy selfe thou blazon'st In these two Princely Boyes: they…

Enter Guidereus.

Gui. Where's my Brother? I haue sent Clotens Clot‑pole downe the streame, In Embassie to his Mother; his…

Solemn Musick.

Bel. My ingenuous Instrument, (Hearke Polidore) it sounds: but what occasion Hath Cadwal now to giue it motion?…

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…

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…

Arui. The Bird is dead That we haue made so much on. I had rather Haue skipt from…

Gui. Oh sweetest, fayrest Lilly: My Brother weares thee not the one halfe so well, As when thou…

Bel. Oh Melancholly, Who euer yet could sound thy bottome? Finde The Ooze, to shew what Coast thy…

Arui. Starke, as you see: Thus smiling, as some Fly had tickled slumber, Not as deaths dart, being…

Gui. Where?

Arui. O'th'floore: His armes thus leagu'd, I thought he slept, and put My clowted Brogues from off my…

Gui. Why, he but sleepes: If he be gone, hee'l make his Graue, a Bed: With female Fayries…

Arui. With fayrest Flowers Whil'st Sommer lasts, and I liue heere, Fidele, Ile sweeten thy sad graue: thou…

Gui. Prythee haue done, And do not play in Wench‑like words with that Which is fo serious. Let…

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…

Gui. Cadwall, I cannot sing: Ile weepe, and word it with thee; For Notes of sorrow, out of…

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,…

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,…

Arui. Feare no more the frowne o'th'Great, Thou art past the Tirants stroake, Care no more to cloath…

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…

Exeunt.

Imogen awakes.

Yes Sir, to Milford‑Hauen, which is the way? I thanke you: by yond bush? pray how farre thether?…

This is Pisanio's deede, and Cloten: Oh! Giue colour to my pale cheeke with thy blood, That we…

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…

Luc. But what from Rome?

Cap, The Senate hath stirr'd vp the Confiners, And Gentlemen of Italy, most willing Spirits, That promise Noble…

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.…

Sooth. Last night, the very Gods shew'd me a vision (I fast, and pray'd for their Intelligence) thus:…

Luc. Dreame often so, And neuer false. Soft hoa, what truncke is heere? Without his top? The ruine…

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…

Imo. I am nothing; or if not, Nothing to be were better: This was my Master, A very…

Luc. 'Lacke, good youth: Thou mou'st no lesse with thy complaining, then Thy Maister in bleeding: say his…

Imo. Richard du Champ: If I do lye, and do No harme by it, though the Gods heare,…

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…

Imo. Ile follow Sir. But first, and't please the Gods, Ile hide my Master from the Flies, as…

Luc. I good youth, And rather Father thee, then Master thee: My Friends, The Boy hath taught vs…

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;…

Pis. Sir, my life is yours, I humbly set it at your will: But for my Mistris, I…

Lord. Good my Liege, The day that she was missing, he was heere; I dare be bound hee's…

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…

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…

Cym. I thanke you: let's withdraw And meete the Time, as it seekes vs. We feare not What…

Exeunt

Pisa. I heard no Letter from my Master, since I wrote him Imogen was slaine. 'Tis strange: Nor…

Exit.

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…

Bel. Sonnes, Wee'l higher to the Mountaines, there secure v.. To the Kings party there's no going: newnesse…

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…

Bel. Oh, I am knowne Of many in the Army: Many yeeres (Though Cloten then but young) you…

Gui. Then be so, Better to cease to be. Pray Sir, to'th'Army: I, and my Brother are not…

Arui. By this Sunne that shines Ile thither: What thing is't, that I neuer Did see man dye,…

Gui. By heauens Ile go, If you will blesse me Sir, and giue me leaue, Ile take the…

Arui. So say I, Amen.

Bel. No reason I (since of your liues you set So slight a valewation) should reserue My crack'd…

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…

Exit.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and the Romane Army at one doore: and the Britaine Army at another: Leonatus Posthumus…

Iac. The heauinesse and guilt within my bosome, Takes off my manhood: I haue belyed a Lady, The…

Exit.

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…

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…

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…

Lo. Where was this Lane?

Post. Close by the battell, ditch'd, & wall'd with turph, Which gaue aduantage to an ancient Soldiour (An…

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,…

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…

Lord. Farewell, you're angry.

Exit.

Post. Still going? This is a Lord: Oh Noble misery To be i'th'Field, and aske what newes of…

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…

Enter Cymbeline, Belarius, Guiderius, Aruiragus, Pisanio, and Romane Captiues. The Captaines present Posthumus to Cymbeline, who deliuers him…

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…

Solemne Musicke. Enter (as in an Apparation) Sicillius Leo­ natus, Father to Posthumus, an old man, attyred like…

Sicil. No more thou Thunder‑Master shew thy spight, on Mortall Flies: With Mars fall out with Iuno chide,…

Moth. Lucina lent not me her ayde, but tooke me in my Throwes, That from me was Posthumus…

Sicil. Great Nature like his Ancestrie, moulded the stuffe so faire: That he d□seru'd the praise o'th'World, as…

1. Bro. When once he was mature for man, in Britaine where was hee That could stand vp…

Mo. With Marriage wherefore was he mockt to be exil'd, and throwne From Leonati Seate, and cast from…

Sic. Why did you suffer Iachimo, slight thing of Italy, To taint his Nobler hart & braine, with…

2 Bro. For this, from stiller Seats we came, our Parents, and vs twaine, That striking in our…

1 Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath to Cymbeline perform'd: Then Iupiter, yu King of Gods, why hast yu…

Sicil. Thy Christall window ope; looke, looke out, no longer exercise Vpon a valiant Race, thy harsh, and…

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,…

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…

Iupiter. No more you petty Spirits of Region low Offend our hearing: hush. How dare you Ghostes Accuse…

Ascends

Sicil. He came in Thunder, his Celestiall breath Was sulphurous to smell: the holy Eagle Stoop'd, as to…

All. Thankes Iupiter.

Sic. The Marble Pauement clozes, he is enter'd His radiant Roofe: Away, and to be blest Let vs…

Vanish

Post. Sleepe, thou hast bin a Grandsire, and begot A Father to me: and thou hast created A…

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…

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…

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…

Post. I tell thee, Fellow, there are none want eyes, to direct them the way I am going,…

Gao. What an infinite mocke is this, that a man shold haue the best vse of eyes, to…

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, & be­ get yong Gibbets, I neuer saw one so…

Exeunt.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Cymbeline, Bellarius, Guiderius, Arui­ ragus, Pisanio, and Lords.

Cym. Stand by my side you, whom the Gods haue made Preseruers of my Throne: woe is my…

Bel. I neuer saw Such Noble fury in so poore a Thing; Such precious deeds, in one that…

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…