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Than be so,

To yield me often tidings: Neither know I


O, I am known What is betid to Cloten ; but remain

Of many in the army: many years, Perplex'd in all. The heavens still must work : Though Cloten then but young, you see, not wore Wherein I am false, I am honest; not true, to be

him true.

From my remembrance. And, besides, the king These present wars shall find I love my country, Huth not deserv'd my service, nor your loves ; Even to the note o'the king, or I'll fall in them. Who find in my exíle the want of breeding, All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd : The certainty of this hard life ; aye hopeless Fortune brings in some boats, that are not steerid. To have the courtesy your cradle promis'd,

[E.rit. But to be still hot summer's tanlings, and

The shrinking slaves of winter.
SCENE IV. - Before the Cave.


Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to the army : Enter Belarius, GUIDERIUS, and ArviragUS.

I and my brother are not known; yourself, Gui. The noise is round about us.

So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown, Bel.

Let us from it. Cannot be question’d. Aru. What pleasure, sir, find we in life, to lock it Arv.

By this sun that shines, From action and adventure ?

I'll thither : What thing is it, that I never Gui.

Nay, what hope Did see man die ? scarce ever look'd on blood, Have we in hiding us? this way, the Romans But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison ? Must or for Britons slay us; or receive us

Never bestrid a horse, save one, that had For barbarous and unnatural revolts

A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel During their use, and slay us after.

Nor iron on his heel? I am asham'd Bel.


To look upon the holy sun, to have
We'll higher to the mountains; there secure us. The benefit of his bless'd beams, remaining
To the king's party there's no going: newness So long a poor unknown.
Of Cloten's death (we being not known, not mus- Gui.

By heavens, I'll go : ter'd

If you will bless me, sir, and give me leave, Among the bands) may drive us to a render

I'll take the better care; but if you Where we have liv'd; and so extort from us

The hazard therefore due fall on me, by That which we've done, whose answer would be The hands of Romans ! death


So say I; Amen. Drawn on with torture.

Bel. No reason I, since on your lives you set Gui.

This is, sir, a doubt, So slight a valuation, should reserve In such a time, nothing becoming you,

My crack'd one to more care. Have with you, boys: Nor satisfying us.

If in your country wars you chance to die,
It is not likely,

That is my bed too, lads, and there I'll lie :
That when they hear the Roman horses neigh, Lead, lead. The time seems long: their blood
Behold their quarter'd fires, have both their eyes

[ Aside. And ears so cloy'd importantly as now,

Till it fly out, and show them princes born. That they will waste their time upon our note,

[Ereunt. To know from whence we are.

will not,

thinks scorn,


To second ills with ills, each elder worse ;
SCENE I. - A Field between the British and

And make them dread it to the doers' thrift.
Roman Camps.

But Imogen is your own : Do your best wills, Enter Posthumus, with a bloody handkerchief.

And make me bless'd to obey ! -I am brought

hither Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for I Among the Italian gentry, and to fight wish'd

Against my lady's kingdom : 'Tis enough Thou should'st be colour'd thus. You married That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistress; peace ! ones,

I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good If each of you would take this course, how many

heavens, Must murder wives much better than themselves, Hear patiently my purpose; I'll disrobe me For wrying but a little? -0, Pisanio!

Of these Italian weeds, and suit myself Every good servant does not all commands; As does a Briton peasant : so I'll fight No bond, but to do just ones. —

- Gods! if you

Against the part I come with; so I'll die Should have ta’en vengeance on my faults, I never For thee, O Imogen, even for whom my life Had liv'd to put on this: so had you saved Is, every breath, a death : and thus, unknown, The noble Imogen to repent; and struck

Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril Me, wretch, more worth your vengeance. But, Myself I'll dedicate. Let me make men know alack,

More valour in me, than my habits show. You snatch some hence for little faults; that's Gods, put the strength o'the Leonati in me! love,

To shame the guise o’the world, I will begin To have them fall no more : you some permii The fashion, less without, and more within. (Erit

SCENE II. The same

Made good the passage ; cry'd to those that fled,

Our Britain's harts die flying, not our rren: Enter at one side, Lucius, Lachimo, and the Roman

T, darkness fleet, souls that fly backwards ! Stand; army; at the other side, the British army; LEONA

Or we are Romans, and will give you that tus Posthumus following it, lve a poor soldier. Like beasts, which you shun beastly; and may sare, They march over, and go out. Alarums. Then

But to look back in frown : stund, stand.

These enler again in skirmish, Lachimo and PosthumUS:

three, he vanquisheth and disarmeth Iachino, and then Three thousand confident, in act as many, leaves him.

(For three performers are the file, when all Iach. The heaviness and guilt within any bosom The rest do nothing,) with this word, stand, staal, Takes off my manhood : I have belied a lady,

Accommodated by the place, more charming, The princess of this country, and the air on't With their own nobleness, (which could have turu': Revengia gly enfeebles me; Or, could this carl, A distaff to a lance,) gilded pale looks, A very drudge of nature's, have subdu'd me, Part, shame, part, spirit renew'd ; that some, turn d in my profession? Knighthoods and honours, borne

coward As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn.

But by example (0, a sin in war, If that thy gentry, Britain, go before

Damn'd in the first beginners !) ’gan to look This lout, as he exceeds our lords, the odds

The way that they did, and to grin like lions Is, that we scarce are men, and you are goils. (Eril. Upon the pikes o’the hunters.

Then began

A stop i’the chaser, a retire; anon,
The battle continues ; the Britons fly; CYMBELINE A rout, confusion thick : Forthwith, they fly

is taken; then enter, to his rescue, BELARIUS, Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles; GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.

slaves, Bel. Stand, stand! We have the advantage of the The strides they victors made: And now our cowards ground;

(Like fragments in hard voyages,) became The lane is guarded ; nothing routs us, but The life o'the need; having found the back-door The villainy of our fears.

open Gui. Arv. Stand, stand, and fight ! Of the unguarded hearts, Heavens, how they wound!

Some, slain before; some, dying ; some, their friends Enter PostHUMUS, and seconds the Britons : They O'er-borne i'the former wave : ten, chac'd by one,

rescue CYMBELINE, and ereunt. Then, enter Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty : Lucius, Iachimo, and I MOGEN.

Those, that would die or ere resist, are grown Luc. Away, boy, from the troops, and save thy- The mortal bugs o'the field. seif :


This was strange chance For friends kill friends, and the disorder's such A narrow lane! an old man, and two boys! As war were hood-wink'd.

Post. Nay, do not wonder at it: You are maile Iach.

'Tis their fresh supplies. Rather to wonder at the things you hear, Luc. It is a day turn'd strangely: Or betimes

Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon't, Let's re-enforce, or fly.

[Ereunt. And vent it for a mockery? Here is one:

Two boys, an old man twice a boy, a lane, SCENE III.

- Another Part of the Field. Preserv'd the Britons, was the Romans' bane.
Enter PostHUMUS and a British Lord.

Lord. Nay, be not angry, sir.

'Lack, to w liat end? Lord. Cam’st thou from where they made he Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be bis friend : stand ?

For if he'll do, as he is made to do, Post.

( lid; | I know, he'll quickly fly my friendship too. Though you, it seems, come from the fliers. You have put me into rhyme. Lord,

I did. Lord.

Farewell; you are angry Post. No blame be to you, sır; for all was lost,

[Ent. But that the heavens fought: The king himself Post. Still going? This is a lord! O noble Of his wings destitute, the army broken,

misery! And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying To be i’the field, and ask, what news, of me ! Through a strait lane ; the enemy full-hearted, To-day, how many would have given their honours Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work To have sav'd their carcasses ? took heel to do't, More plentiful than tools to do't, struck down And yet died too? I, in mine own woe charmd, Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some falling Could not find death, where I did hear him groa) ; Merely through fear; that the strait pass was damm'd Nor feel him, where he struck : Being an ugy With dead men, hurt behind, and cowards living

monster, To die with lengthen'd shame.

'Tis strange, he hides him in fresh cups, soft beus Lord.

Where was this lane? Sweet words; or hath more ministers than we Post. Close by the battle, ditch'd, and wall'd with That draw his knives i'the war. — Well, I will find turf;

him : Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier, - For being now a favourer to the Roman, An honest one, I warrant; who deserv'd

No more a Briton, I have resum'd again So long a breeding, as his white beard came to, The part I came in : Fight I will no more, In doing this for his country; - athwart the lane, But yield me to the veriest hind, that shall Hle, with two striplings, (lads more like to run Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is The country base, than to commit such slaughter ; Here made by the Roman; great the answer be With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer

Britons must take; For me, my ransome's death; Than those for preservation cas’d, or shame,) 0o either side I come to spend my breath ;


go out.

Which neither here I'll keep, nor bear again,

Posthumus, with wounds, as they died in the But end it by some means for Imogen.

They circle PosthumuS round, as he lies Enter Two British Captains, and Soldiers.


Sici. No more, thou thunder-master, show 1 Cap. Great Jupiter be prais'd! Lucius is taken:

Thy spite on mortal flies : 'Tis the ught, the old man and his sons were angels.

With Mars fall out, with Juno chide, 2 Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly habit,

That thy adulteries That gave the affront with them.

Rates and revenges. 1 Cap.

So 'tis reported :

Hath my poor boy done aught but well, But none of them can be found. Stand! who is

Whose face I never saw ? there?

I died, whilst in the womb he stay'd Post. A Roman;

Attending Nature's law.
Who had not now been drooping here, if seconds

Whose father then (as men report,
Had answer'd him.
2 Cap.
Lay hands on him; a dog!

Thou orphans' father art,)

Thou should'st have been, and shielded him A leg of Rome shall not return to tell

From this earth-vexing smart. What crows have peck'd them here : le brags his service

Moth. Lucina lent not me her ajil, As if he were of note : bring him to the king.

But took me in my throes ;

That from ine was Posthumus ript, Enter CYMBELINE, attended ; BelarIUS, GUIDERIUS,

Came crying 'mongst his foes, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO, and Roman Captives. The

A thing of pity! Captains present Posthumus to CYMBELINE, who delivers him over to a Gaoler : after which, all

Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry,

Moulded the stuff so fair,

That he deserv'd the praise o'the world,
SCENE IV, - A Prison.

As great Sicilius' heir.

1 Bro. When once he was mature for man, Enter PosthuMUS, and Two Gaolers.

In Britain where was he 1 Gaol. You shall not now be stolen, you have That could stand up his parallel ; locks upon you;

Or fruitful object be So, graze, as you find pasture.

In eye of Imogen, that best 2 Gaol.

Ay, or a stomach. Could deem bis dignity ?

[Ereunt Gaolers. Post. Most welcome, bondage! for thou art a way,

Moth. With marriage wherefore was he mock'd

To be exil'd, and thrown I think, to liberty : Yet am I better

From Leonati' seat, and cast Than one that's sick o'the gout: since he had rather

From her his dearest one,
Groan so in perpetuity, than be cur'd

Sweet Imogen?
By the sure physician, death ; who is the key
To unbar these locks. My conscience! thou art

Sici. Why did you suffer Iachimo,

Slight thing of Italy, More than my shanks, and wrists : You good gods, To taint his nobler heart and brain give me

With needless jealousy ; The penitent instrument, to pick that bolt,

And to become the geck and scorn Then, free for ever! Is't enough, I am sorry ?

O'the other's villainy ? So children temporal fathers do appease ;

2 Bro. For this, from stiller seats we cainc, Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent ?

Our parents, and us twain, I cannot do it better than in gyves,

That, striking in our country's cause, Desir'd, more than constrain'd: to satisfy,

Fell bravely, and were slain ; If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take

Our fealty, and Tenantius' right, No stricter render of me, than my all.

With honour to maintain. I know, you are more clement than vile men,

1 Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath Who of their broken debtors take a third,

To Cymbeline perform’d : A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again

Then Jupiter, thou king of goas, Os their abatement: that's not my desire :

Why hast thou thus adjourn'd For Imogen's dear life, take mine ; and though

The graces for his merits due ; 'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life ; you coin'd it :

Being all to dolours turn'd ?
'Tween man and man, they weigh not every stamp;
Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake : Sici. Thy crystal window ope; look out
You rather mine, being yours: And so, great

No longer exercise,

Upon a valiant race, thy harsh powers, If you will take this audit, take this life,

And potent injuries . And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen!

Aloth. Since, Jupiter, our son is good, I'll speak to thee in silence.

[He sleeps. Take off his miseries. Solemn Musick. Enter, as an apparition, Sicilius

Sici. Peep through thy marble mansion; help! LEONATUS, father to Posthumus, an old man,

Or we poor ghosts will cry attired like a warrior ; leading in his hand an an

To the shining synod of the rest, cient matron, his wife, and mother to PostHUMUS,

Against thy deity. with musick before them. Then, after other mu- 2 Bro. Help, Jupiter; or we appeal, sick, follow the Two young Leonati, brothers to And from thy justice fly.


JUPITER descends in thunder and lightning, sitting Post. Over-roasted rather : ready long ago. upon an eagle: he throws a thunder-bolt.


Gaol. Hanging is the word, sir; if you be ready Ghosts fall on their knees.

for that, you are well cooked. Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region low,

Post. So, if I prove a good repast to the specOffend our hearing: hush !-How dare you ghests, tators, the dish pays the shot. Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt you know,

Gaol. A heavy reckoning for you, sir : But the

comfort is, you shall be called to no more payments, Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts? Poor shadows of Elysium, hence; and rest

fear no more tavern bills; which are often the sad. Upon your never-withering banks of flowers : ness of parting, as the procuring of mirth: you Be not with mortal accidents opprest;

come in faint for want of meat, depart reeling with No care of yours it is ; you know, 'tis ours.

too much drink; sorry that you have paid too much, Whom best I love, I cross; to make my gift,

and sorry that you are paid too much ; purse and The more delay'd, delighted.

Be content ;

brain both empty: the brain the heavier for being Your low-laid son our godhead will uplist :

too light, the purse too light, being drawn of heaHis comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.

viness : 0! of this contradiction you shall now be Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in

quit. 0, the charity of a penny cord! it sums up Our temple was he married. Rise, and fade !

thousands in a trice : you have no true debitor and He shall be lord of lady Imogen,

creditor but it; of what's past, is, and to come, the

discharge : Your neck, sir, is pen, book, and And happier much by his affliction made. This tablet lay upon his breast; wherein

counters; so the acquittance follows. Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine;

Post. I am merrier to die, than thou art to live. And so, away: no further with

Gaol. Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the din your

tooth-ache : But a man that were to sleep your Express impatience, lest you stir

up mine. Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline. '[ Ascends. sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think, Sici. He came in thunder ; his celestial breath

he would change places with his officer : for, look Was sulphurous to smell : the holy eagle

you, sir, you know not which way you shall go. Stoop'd, as to foot us : his ascension is

Post. Yes, indeed, do I, fellow, More sweet than our bless'd fields : his royal bird

Gaol. Your death has eyes in's head then; I have Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak,

not seen him so pictured: you must either be diAs when his god is pleas'd.

rected by some that take upon them to know ; or AU.

Thanks, Jupiter !

take upon yourself that, which I am sure you do Sici. The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd

not know ; or jump the after-enquiry on your own His radiant roof: · Away! and, to be blest,

peril: and how you shall speed in your journey's Let us with care perforın his great behesi.

end, I think you'll never return to tell one. (Ghosts vanish.

Post. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes Post. [Waking.) Sleep, thou hast been a grand- to direct them the way I am going, but such as sire, and begot

wink, and will not use them. A father to me: and thou hast created

Gaol. What an infinite mock is this, that a man A mother, and two brothers : But (O scorn!)

should have the best use of eyes, to see the way Gone! they went hence so soon as they were boin.

of blindness! I am sure, hanging's the way of And so I am awake. - Poor wretches that depend

winking. On greatness' favour, dream as I have done ;

Enter a Messenger. Wake, and find nothing. - But, alas, I swerve:

Mess. Knock off his manacles; bring your priMany dream not to find, neither deserve, And yet are steep'd in favours ; so am I,

soner to the king. That have this golden chance, and know not why.

Post. Thou bringest good news; - I am called

to be made free. What fairies haunt this ground ? A book? O, rare

Gaol. I'll be hanged then. one! Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment

Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no Nobler than that it covers : let thy effects

bolts for the dead. So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers,

[Exeunt PostHUMUS and Messenger As good as promise.

Gaol. Unless a man would marry a gallows, and

beget young gibbets, I never saw one so prone. [Reads.] When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself Yet, on my conscience, there are verier knaves de

unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced by sire to live, for all he be a Roman : and there be a piece of tender air ; and when from a stately some of them too, that die against their wills; so cedar shall be lopped branches, which, being dead should I, if I were one. I would we were all of many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old one mind, and one mind good; 0, there were descstock, and freshly grow;

then shall Posthumus end lation of gaolers, and gallowses! I speak against his miseries, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in my present profit; but my wish hath a preferment peace and plenty.


[Ercuni. Tis still a dream ; or else such stust as madmen Tongue, and brain not : either both, or nothing :

SCENE V. - Cymbeline's Teni. Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such

Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIAs sense cannot untie. Be what it is,

RAGUS, PISANIO, Lords, Officers, and Attendants. The action of my life is like it, which I'll keep, if but for sympathy.

Eym. Stand by my side, you whom the goals

have made
Re-enter Gaolers.

Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart,
Gaol. Come, sir, are you ready for death ? That the poor soldier, that so richly foughl,

Mine eyes

report it.

Whose rags sham'd gilded arms, whose naked I (When she had fitted you with her craft,) to breast

work Stepp'd before targe of proof, cannot be found : Her son into the adoption of the crown. He shall be happy that can find him, if

But failing of her end by his strange absence, Our grace can make him so.

Grew shameless-desperate ; open'd, in despito Bel.

I never saw

Of heaven and men, her purposes ; repented
Such noble fury in so poor a thing;

The evils she hatch'd were not eflected; so,
Such precious deeds in one that promis’d nought Despairing, died.
But beggary and poor looks.

Сут. .

Heard you all this, her women: Cym.

No tidings of him ? Lady. We did so, please your highness. Pis. He hath been search'd among the dead and Сут. living,

Were not in fault, for she was beautiful; But no trace of him.

Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my heart, Сут. . To my grief, I am

That thought her like her seeming : it had been The heir of his reward ; which I will add

vicious, To you the liver, heart, and brain of Britain, To have mistrusted her: yet, O my daughter !

[To Benarius, GUIDerius, and Arviragus. That it was folly in me, thou may'st say, By whom I grant she lives : 'Tis now the time And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all! To ask of whence you are : Bel.

Sır, Enter Lucius, Iachimo, the Soothsayer, and other In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen :

Roman prisoners, guarded; POSTHUMUS behind, Further to boast, were neither true nor modest,

and IMOGEN. Unless I add, we are honest.

Thou com'st not, Caius, now for tribute ; that Cym.

Bow your knees : The Britons have raz'd out, though with the loss Arise, my knights o’the battle ; I create you Of many a bold one ; whose kinsmen have made Companions to our person, and will fit you

suit, With dignities becoming your estates.

That their good souls may be appeas'd with Enter CORNELIUS and Ladies.


Of you their captives, which ourselves have granted : There's business in these faces : - Why so sadly So, think of your estate. Greet you our victory ? you look like Romans, Luc. Consider, sir, the chance of war : the day And not o'the court of Britain.

Was yours by accident; had it gone


us, Cor.

Hail, great king! | We should not, when the blood was cool, have To sour your happiness, I must report

threaten'd The queen is dead.

Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods Cym.

Whom worse than a physician Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives Would this report become? But I consider, May be call'd ransome, let it come: sufficeth, By medicine life may be prolong'd, yet death

A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer : Will seize the doctor too. How ended she ? Augustus lives to think on't : and so much

Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life; For my peculiar care. This one thing only
Which, being cruel to the world, concluded I will entreat; My boy, a Briton born,
Most cruel to herself. What she confess'd

Let him be ransom’d : never master had
I will report, so please you: These her women A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
Can trip me, if I err; who, with wet cheeks, So tender over his occasions, true,
Were present when she finish’d.

So feat, so nurse-like: let his virtue join

Pr'ythee, say. With my request, which, I'll make bold, your Cor. First, she confess'd she never lov'd you;

highness only

Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm, Affected greatness got by you, not you :

Though he have serv'd a Roman : save him, sir, Married your royalty, was wife to your place, And spare no blood beside. Abhorr'd your person.


I have surely seen him : Сут.

She alone knew this : His favour is familiar to me. — And, but she spoke it dying, I would not

Boy, thou hast look'd thyself into my grace, Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed.

And art mine own. I know not why, nor wherefore, Cor. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to To say, live, boy: ne'er thank thy master; live : love

And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt, With such integrity, she did confess

Fitting my bounty, and thy state, I'll give it ; Was as a scorpion to her sight; whose life,

Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner, But that her flight prevented it, she had

The noblest ta'en. Ta'en off by poison.

Imo. .

I humbly thank your highness. Cym. O most delicate fiend !

Luc. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad; Who is't can read a woman? - Is there more ? And yet, I know, thou wilt. Cor. More, sir, and worse. She did confess, she Imo.

No, no : alack,

There's other work in hand; I see a thing
For you a mortal mineral ; which, being took, Bitter to me as death : your life, good master,
Should by the minute feed on life, and, ling'ring, Must shuffle for itself.
By inches waste you :
In which time she Luc.

The boy disdains me,

He leaves me, scorns me : Briefly die their joys, By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to That place them on the truth of girls and boys. O'ercome you with her show: yes, and in time, Why stands he so perplex'd ?

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