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Iach. The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd | fingering, so; we'll try with tongue too: if none

will do, let her remain; but I'll never give o'er. First, a very excellent good-conceited thing; after, a wonderful sweet air, with admirable rich words to it, and then let her consider.


Repairs itself by rest: Our Tarquin thus
Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken'd
The chastity he wounded. - Cytherea,
How bravely thou becom'st thy bed! fresh lily!
And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch!
But kiss; one kiss! - Rubies unparagon'd,
How dearly they do't 'Tis her breathing that
Perfumes the chamber thus: The flame o'the taper
Bows toward her; and would under-peep her lips,
To see the enclosed lights, now canopied
Under these windows: White and azure, lac'd
With blue of heaven's own tinct. But my design?
To note the chamber : — I will write all down:
Such, and such, pictures:
·- There the window: -
The adornment of her bed ;- The arras, figures,
Why, such, and such: - - And the contents o'the

Ah, but some natural notes about her body,
Above ten thousand meaner moveables
Would testify, to enrich mine inventory:
O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her!
And be her sense but as a monument,
Thus in a chapel lying! - Come off, come off;
[Taking off her bracelet.
As slippery, as the Gordian knot was hard!
'Tis mine; and this will witness outwardly,
As strongly as the conscience does within,
To the madding of her lord. On her left breas
A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops
I'the bottom of a cowslip. Here's a voucher,
Stronger than ever law could make this secret
Will force him think I have pick'd the lock, and

One, two, three,


The treasure of her honour. No more.-To what end?
Why should I write this down, that's rivetted,
Screw'd to my memory? She hath been reading late
The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turn'd down,
Where Philomel gave up ; - I have enough:
To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it.
Swift, swift, you dragons of the night! that

May bare the raven's eye: I lodge in fear; Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here. [Clock strikes.

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Time, time!

[Goes into the trunk. The scene closes.

· An Ante-Chamber adjoining Imogen's Apartment.

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Enter a Messenger.

Mess. 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 receive him According to the honour of his sender; And towards himself his goodness forespent on us We must extend our notice. Our dear son, When you have given good morning to your mistress,

Attend the queen, and us; we shall have need To employ you towards this Roman. - Come, our queen.

[Exeunt CYM. QUEEN, Lords, and Mess. Clo. If she be up, I'll speak with her; if not, Let her lie still, and dream. - By your leave, ho!


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I know her women are about her; What If I do line one of their hands? 'Tis gold

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Clo. Imo. As I am mad, I do : If you'll be patient, I'll no more be mad, That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir, You put me to forget a lady's manners, By being so verbal; and learn now, for all, That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce, By the very truth of it, I care not for you; And am so near the lack of charity, (To accuse myself) I hate you; which I had rather You felt, than make't my boast,

Do you call me fool?


You sin against Obedience, which you owe your father. For The contract you pretend with that base wretch, (One, bred of alms, and foster'd with cold dishes, With scraps o'the court,) it is no contract, none : And though it be allow'd in meaner parties, (Yet who, than he, more mean?) to knit their souls (On whom there is no more dependency

But brats and beggary in self-figur'd knot;
Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement by
The consequence o'the crown; and must not soil
The precious note of it with a base slave,
A hilding for a livery, a squire' cloth,
A pantler, not so eminent.


The south-fog rot him! Imo. He never can meet more mischance, than


To be but nam'd of thee. His meanest garment,
That ever hath but clipp'd his body, is dearer,
In my respect, than all the hairs above thee,
Were they all made such men.-How now, Pisanio?


Clo. His garment? Now, the devil

Imo. To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently: Clo. His garment?


I am sprighted with a fool; Frighted, and anger'd worse: - Go, bid my woman Search for a jewel, that too casually

Hath left mine arm; it was thy master's: 'shrew me, If I would lose it for a revenue

Of any king's in Europe. I do think,

I saw't this morning: confident I am,
Last night 'twas on mine arm; I kiss'd it:
I hope, it be not gone, to tell my lord
That I kiss aught but he.

'Twill not be lost.
Imo. I hope so: go, and search. [Exit Pis.
You have abus'd me:-


His meanest garment?
Ay; I said so, sir.
If you will mak't an action, call witness to't.
Clo. I will inform your father.
Your mother too:
She's my good lady; and will conceive, I hope,
But the worst of me.
To the worst of discontent.
So I leave you, sir,

His meanest garment?

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[Exit. I'll be reveng'd: - Well. Exit.

Rome. An Apartment in Philario's House.


Post. Fear it not, sir; I would, I were so sure To win the king, as I am bold, her honour Will remain hers.

Phi. What means do you make to him? Post. Not any; but abide the change of time; Quake in the present winter's state, and wish That warmer days would come: In these fear'd


I barely gratify your love; they failing,
I must die much your debtor.

Phi. Your very goodness, and your company,
O'erpays all I can do. By this, your king
Hath heard of great Augustus: Caius Lucius
Will do his commission throughly: And, I think,
He'll grant the tribute, send the arrearages,

Or look upon our Romans, whose remembrance Is yet fresh in their grief.


I do believe, (Statist though I am none, nor like to be,) That this will prove a war; and you shall hear The legions, now in Gallia, sooner landed In our not-fearing Britain, than have tidings Of any penny tribute paid. Our countrymen Are men more order'd, than when Julius Cæsar Smil'd at their lack of skill, but found their courage Worthy his frowning at. Their discipline (Now mingled with their courages) will make known To their approvers, they are people, such That mend upon the world.

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Iach. Here are letters for you. Post. Their tenour good, I trust. Iach. 'Tis very like. Phi. Was Caius Lucius in the Britain 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 have lost it, I should have lost the worth of it in gold. I'll make a journey twice as far, to enjoy A second night of such sweet shortness, which Was mine in Britain; for the ring is won. Post. The stone's too hard to come by. Iach.

Your lady being so easy.

Not a whit, Make not, sir, Your loss your sport: I hope, you know that we Must not continue friends.




Good sir, we must,
If you keep covenant: Had I not brought
The knowledge of your mistress home,
We were to question further: but I now
Profess myself the winner of her honour,
Together with your ring; and not the wronger
Of her, or you, having proceeded but
By both your wills.


If you can make't apparent That you have tasted her in bed, my hand, And ring, is yours: If not, the foul opinion You had of her pure honour, gains, or loses, Your sword, or mine; or masterless leaves both To who shall find them.

Iach. First, her bed-chamber, (Where, I confess, I slept not; but, profess, Had that was well worth watching,) It was hang'd With tapestry of silk and silver; the story Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman, And Cydnus swell'd above the banks, or for The press of boats, or pride: A piece of work So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive In workmanship, and value; which I wonder'd, Could be so rarely and exactly wrought, Since the true life on't was


Sir, my circumstances, Being so near the truth, as I will make them, Must first induce you to believe: whose strength I will confirm with oath; which, I doubt not, You'll give me leave to spare, when you shall find You need it not.



This is true;

Post. And this you might have heard of here, by me, Or by some other. Iach. More particulars Must justify my knowledge.

So they must,

The chimney

Is south the chamber; and the chimney-piece,
Chaste Dian, bathing: never saw I figures
So likely to report themselves: the cutter
Was as another nature, dumb; outwent her,
Motion and breath left out.

Post. Or do your honour injury. Iach.


This is a thing, Which you might from relation likewise reap; Being, as it is, much spoke of.

Iach. The roof o'the chamber With golden cherubins is fretted: Her andirons (I had forgot them,) were two winking Cupids Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely Depending on their brands.


This is her honour! Let it be granted, you have seen all this, (and praise Be given to your remembrance) the description Of what is in her chamber, nothing saves The wager you have laid. Iach.

Then, if you can,

[Pulling out the bracelet. Be pale; I beg but leave to air this jewel: See! And now 'tis up again: It must be married To that your diamond; I'll keep them.


Once more let me behold it: Is it that Which I left with her?


Iach. Sir, (I thank her,) that: She stripp'd it from her arm; I see her yet; Her pretty action did outsell her gift,

And yet enrich'd it too: She gave it me, and said, She priz'd it once.

May be, she pluck'd it off,

Post. To send it me. Iach. She writes so to you? doth she? Post. O, no, no, no; 'tis true. Here, take this too; [Gives the ring.

Let there be no honour,
truth, where semblance;

It is a basilisk unto mine eye,
Kills me to look on't: -
Where there is beauty;
Where there's another man: The vows of women
Of no more bondage be, to where they are made,
Than they are to their virtues; which is nothing:-
O, above measure false !

Phi. Have patience, sir, And take your ring again; 'tis not yet won: It may be probable, she lost it; or, Who knows if one of her women, Hath stolen it from her?

being corrupted,


Very true; And so, I hope, he came by't: - Back my ring;

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Let's follow him, and pervert the present wrath
He hath against himself.

Lives in men's eyes; and will to ears, and tongues,

Be theme, and hearing ever,) was in this Britain,
And conquer'd it, Cassibelan, thine uncle,
(Famous in Cæsar's praises, no whit less,
Than in his feats deserving it,) for him,
And his succession, granted Rome a tribute,

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With all my heart.


Another Room in the

Queen. Shall be so ever.

It is the woman's part: Be it lying, note it,
The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers;
Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers; revenges, Lers;
Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,
Nice longings, slanders, mutability,

All faults that may be nam'd, nay, that hells knows,
Why, hers, in part, or all; but, rather, all:
For ev'n to vice

They are not constant, but are changing still
One vice, but of a minute old, for one

Not half so old as that. I'll write against them,
Detest them, curse them: — Yet 'tis greater skill
In a true hate, to pray they have their will:
The very devils cannot plague them better. [Exil.

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Yearly three thousand pounds; which by thee lately

Is left untender'd.


And, to kill the marvel,

There be many Cæsars,
Ere such another Julius. Britain is

A world by itself; and we will nothing pay,
For wearing our own noses.


That opportunity, Which then they had to take from us, to resume We have again. Remember, sir, my liege, The kings your ancestors; together with The natural bravery of your isle; which stands As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in With rocks unscaleable, and roaring waters; With sands, that will not bear your enemies'


But suck them up to the top-mast. A kind of


Cæsar made here; but made not here his brag

Of, came, and saw, and overcame: with shame (The first that ever touch'd him,) he was carried From off our coast, twice beaten; and his shipping (Poor ignorant baubles!) on our terrible seas, Like egg-shells mov'd their upon As easily 'gainst our rocks: For joy whereof, The fam'd Cassibelan, who was once at point (0, giglot fortune!) to master Cæsar's sword, Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright, And Britons strut with courage.



Clo. Come, there's no more tribute to be paid: Our kingdom is stronger than it was at that time; and, as I said, there is no more such Cæsars: other of them may have crooked noses; but, to owe such straight arms, none.

Cym. Son, let your mother end.

Clo. We have yet many among us can gripe as hard as Cassibelan: I do not say, I am one; but I have a hand. Why tribute? why should we pay tribute? If Cæsar can hide the sun from us 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 injurious Romans did extort
This tribute from us, we were free: Cæsar's ambi-
(Which swell'd so much, that it did almost stretch
The sides o'the world,) against all colour, here
Did put the yoke upon us; which to shake off,
Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon
Ourselves to be. We do say then to Cæsar,
Our ancestor was that Mulmutius, which
Ordain'd our laws; (whose use the sword of Cæsar
Hath too much mangled; whose repair, and fran-

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Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed,
Though Rome be therefore angry;) Mulmutius,
Who was the first of Britain, which did put
His brows within a golden crown, and call'd
Himself a king.


I am sorry, Cymbeline, That I am to pronounce Augustus Cæsar (Cæsar, that hath more kings his servants, than Thyself domestick officers,) thine enemy: Receive it from me, then: - War, and confusion, In Cæsar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee: look For fury not to be resisted: Thus defied, I thank thee for myself.

Cym. Thou art welcome, Caius. Thy Cæsar knighted me; my youth I spent Much under him; of him I gather'd honour; Which he to seek of me again, perforce, Behoves me keep at utterance; am perfect, That the Pannonians and Dalmatians, for Their liberties, are now in arms: a precedent Which, not to read, would show the Britons cold: So Cæsar shall not find them.

Cym. I know your master's pleasure, and he


All the remain is, welcome.



Let proof speak. Clo. His majesty bids you welcome. Make pastime with us a day, or two, longer: If you seek us afterwards in other terms, you shall find us in our salt-water girdle: if you beat us out of it, it is yours; if you fall in the adventure, our crows shall fare the better for you; and there's an end.

Luc. So, sir.

SCENE II. · Another Room in the same.


Pis. How! of adultery? Wherefore write you


What monster's her accuser? ·
O, master! what a strange infection
Is fallen into thy ear? What false Italian
(As poisonous tongue'd, as handed,) hath prevail'd
On thy too ready hearing? - Disloyal? No:
She's punish'd for her truth; and undergoes,
More goddess-like than wife-like, such assaults
As would take in some virtue. - O, my master!
Thy mind to her is now as low, as were
How! that I should murder her?
Thy fortunes.
Upon the love, and truth, and vows, which I
Have made to thy command? — I, her? — her

If it be so to do good service, never

Let me be counted serviceable. How look I,
That I should seem to lack humanity,

So much as this fact comes too? Do't: The letter [Reading


That I have sent her, by her own command
O damn'd paper!
Shall give thee opportunity:
Black as the ink that's on thee! Senseless bauble,
Art thou a feodary for this act, and look'st
So virgin-like without? Lo, here she comes.


I am ignorant in what I am commanded.
Imo. How now, Pisanio?

Pis. Madam, here is a letter from my lord.
Imo. Who? thy lord? that is my lord? Leonatus?
O, learn'd indeed were that astronomer,
That knew the stars, as I his characters;
He'd lay the future open. You good gods,
Let what is here contain'd relish of love,
Of lord's health, of his content, — yet not,
That we two are asunder, let that grieve him,
(Some griefs are med'cinable ;) that is one of them,
For it doth physick love; of his content,

All but in that!

Good wax, thy leave: - Bless'd


- Leonatus!

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be, You bees, that make these locks of counsel! Lovers, And men in dangerous bonds, pray not alike; Though forfeiters you cast in prison, yet You clasp young Cupid's tables.-Good news, gods! [Reads.

Justice, and your father's wrath, should he take me in his dominion, could not be so cruel to me, as you, O the dearest of creatures, would not even renew me with your eyes. Take notice, that I am in Cambria, at Milford-Haven: What your own love will, out of this, advise you, follow. So, he wishes you all happiness, that remains loyal to his vow, your, increas ing in love, LEONATUS POSTHUMUS.


O, for a horse with wings!- Hear'st thou, Pisanio?
He is at Milford-Haven: Read, and tell me
How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs
May plod it in a week, why may not I
Glide thither in a day? - Then, true Pisanio,
(Who long'st, like me, to see thy lord; who long'st,-
O, let me 'bate, but not like me : -- yet long'st,-
But in a fainter kind: O, not like me;


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