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Enter Cloten.

Clo. I am near to the place where they should meet, if Pisanio have mapped it truly. How fit his garments serve me! Why should his mistress, who was made by him that made the tailor, not be fit too? the rather (saying reverence of the word) for 'tis said, a woman's fitness come by fits. Therein I must play the workman. I dare speak it to myself (for it is not vain-glory, for a man and his glass to confer; in his own chamber, I mean), the lines of my body are as well drawn as his; no less young, more strong, not beneath him in fortunes, beyond him in the advantage of the time, above him in birth, alike conversant in general services, and more remarkable in single oppositions: yet this imperseverant thing loves him in my despite. What mortality is! Posthumus, thy head, which now is growing upon thy shoulders, shall within this hour be off; thy mistress enforced; thy garments cut to pieces before thy face and all this done, spurn her home to her father: who may, haply, be a little angry for my so rough usage: but my mother, having power of his testiness, shall turn all into my coinmendations. My horse is tied up safe: out, sword, and to a sore purpose! Fortune put them into my hand! This is the very description of their meeting-place; and the fellow dares not deceive me. [exit. Enter, from the cave, Belarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, and Imogen.


Bel. You are not well: [to Imogen] remain here in the cave;

We'll come to you after hunting

Arv. Brother, stay here: Are we not brothers ?

Which I have spoke of, whereunto your levy
[exeunt. Must be supplyant: the words of your commission
Will tie you to the numbers, and the time
Of their despatch.

Tri. We will discharge our duty.


Is breach of all. I am ill; but your being by me
Cannot amend me: society is no comfort
To one not sociable: I'm not very sick,
Since I can reason by it. Pray you. trust me

Sy els

[to Imogen.

Imo. So man and man should be;
But clay and clay differs in dignity,
Whose dust is both alike. I am very sick.

Gui. Go you to hunting, I'll abide with him. Imo. So sick I am not ;-yet I am not well: But not so citizen a wanton, as

That since the common men are now in action
'Gainst the Pannouians and Dalmatians;
And that the legions now in Gallia are
Full weak to undertake our wars against
The fallen-off Britons; that we do incite
The gentry to this business: he creates
Lucius pro-consul: and to you'the tribunes,
For this immediate levy, he commands
His absolute commission. Long live Cæsar!
Tri. Is Lucius general of the forces?
2 Sen. Ay.

To seem to die, ere sick: so please you, leave me; Stick to your journal course: the breach of custom

Tri. Remaining aow in Gallia 1 Sen. With those legions


I'll rob none but myself; and let me die,
Stealing so poorly.

Gui. I love thee; I have spoke it:
How much the quantity, the weight as much,
As I do love my father.

Bel. What? how? how?

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Arv. If it be sin to say so, sir, I yoke me In my good brother's fault: I know not why I love this youth; and I have heard you say, Love's reason's without reason; the bier at door, And a demand who is't shall die, I'd say, My father, not this youth. Bel. O noble strain!

[aside. O worthiness of nature! breed of greatness! Cowards father cowards, and base things stre base: [grace. Nature hath meal, and bran; contempt and I am not their father; yet who this should be, Doth miracle itself, lov'd before me.— Tis the ninth hour o'the morn. Arv. Brother, farewell. Imo. I wish ye sport. Arv. You health. So please you, sir. Imo. [aside] These are kind creatures. what lies I have heard!

Our courtiers say, all's savage, but at court:
Experience, O, thou disprov'st report!
The imperious seas breed monsters; for the dish,
Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish.
I am sick still: heart-sick:-Pisanio,
I'll now taste of thy drug.

Gui. I could not stir him


He said, he was gentle, but unfortunate;
Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest.

Arv. Thus did he answer me: yet said hereafter I might know more.

Bel. To the field, to the field:—

We'll leave you for this time; go in, and rest
Arv. We'll not be long away.

Bel. Pray, be not sick,

For you must be our housewife.

Imo. Well, or ill,

I am bound to you.

Bel. And so shalt be ever. [exit Imogen. This youth, howe'er distress'd, appears, he hath had Good ancestors.

Arv. How angel-like he sings!

Gui. But his neat cookery! He cuts our roots At fools I laugh, not fear them.

in characters;

And sauc'd our broths, as Juno had been sick, And he her dieter.

Arv. Nobly he yokes

A smiling with a sigh: as if the sigh

Was that it was, for not being such a smile;
The smile mocking the sigh, that it would fly
From so divine a temple, to commix
With winds, that sailors rail at.

Gui. I do note,

That grief and patience, rooted in him both, Mingle their spurs together.

Arv. Grow, patience!

And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine
His perishing root, with the increasing vine!
Bel. It is great morning. Come; away.-
Who's there?

Enter Cloten.

Clo. I cannot find those runagates; that villain Hath mock'd me:-I am faint.

Bel. Those runagates!

Means he not us? I partly know him: 'tis
Cloten, the son o'the queen. I fear some ambush.
I saw him not these many years, and yet

I know 'tis he:-
:—we are held as outlaws:-Hence.
Gui. He is but one: you and my brother search
What companies are near: pray you, away;
Let me alone with him. [exeunt Bel. and Arv.
Clo. Soft! What are you

That fly me thus? some villain mountaineers ?
I have heard of such.-What slave art thou?
Gui. A thing

More slavish did I ne'er, than answering
A slave, without a knock.

Clo. Thou art a robber,

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Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know I'm son to the queen.

Gui. I'm sorry for't; not seeming

So worthy as thy birth.

Clo. Art not afear'd?


Gui. Those that I reverence, those I fear; the

Clo. Die the death: When I have slain thee with my proper hand, I'll follow those that even now fled hence, Aud on the gates of Lud's town set your heads: Yield, rustic mountaineer. [exeunt fighting. Enter Belarius and Arviragus.

Bel. No company's abroad.

Arv. None in the world: you did mistake him, sure.


Bel. I cannot tell: long is it since I saw him, But time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of favour

Which then he wore; the snatches in his voice, And burst of speaking, were as his; I am absolute, 'Twas very Cloten.t

Arv. In this place we left them:

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Gui. This Cloten was a fool; an empty purse There was no money in't: not Hercules

Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had

none :


Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne
My head, as I do his.

Bel. What hast thou done?

Gui. I am perfect, what: cut off one Cloten's


put 700

Son to the queen, after his own report;
Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer; and swore,
With his own single hand he'd take us in,.
Displace our heads, wheres (thank the gods!)
they grow,

And set them on Lud's town.

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Bel. We are all undone.

Gui. Why, worthy father, what have we to lose But, that he swore to take, our lives? The law Protects not us: then why should we be tender To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us; Play judge, and executioner, all himself; For we do fear the law? What company Discover you abroad?

Bel. No single soul

Can we set eye on: but, in all safe reason, He must have some attendants. Though his humour

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Was nothing but mutation; ay, and that s
From one bad thing to worse; not frenzy, not {{
Absolute madness could so far have rav'd,
To bring him here alone: although, perhaps,
It may be heard at court, that such as we did
Cave here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time
May make some stronger head: the which he

(As it is like him), might break out, and swear


He'd fetch us in; yet is't not probable
To come alone, either he so undertaking,

Or they so suffering: then on good ground we Triumphs for nothing, and lamenting toys,
Is jollity for apes, and grief for boys.
Is Cadwal mad?


Re-enter Arviragus, bearing Imogen us dead, iz his arms.

Bel. Look, here he comes,

And brings the dire occasion in his arms,

Of what we blame him for!

Arv. The bird is dead,

To hunt this day: the boy Fidele's sickness
Did make my way long forth.

That we have made so much on. I had rather
Have skipp'd from sixteen years of age to sixty,

Gui. With his own sword,

Which he did wave against my throat, I have To have turn'd my leaping-time into a crutch, Than have seen this.


If we do fear this body hath a tail
More perilous than the head.

Arv. Let ordinance

Come as the gods foresay it: howsoe'er,
My brother hath done well.

Bel. I had no mind

His head from him: I'll throw it into the creek
Behind our rock; and let it to the sea,
And tell the fishes, he's the queen's son, Cloten:
That's all I reck.


Bel. I fear, 'twill be reveng'd::

Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done't! though
Becomes thee well enough.

Arv. 'Would I had done't,

So the revenge alone pursued me!-Polydore,
I love thee brotherly; but envy much,
Thou hast robb'd me of this deed: I would,

That possible strength might meet, would seek
And put us to our answer.
[us through,

Bel. Well, 'tis done :

We'll hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danger
Where there's no profit. I pr'ythee, to our rock;
You and Fidele play the cooks: I'll stay
Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him
To dinner presently.

Arv. Poor sick Fidele!

I'll willingly to him: to gain his colour,
I'd let a parish of such Clotens' blood,

And praise myself for charity.

Bel. O thou goddess,


Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon'st
In these two princely boys! They are as gentle
As zephyrs, blowing below the violet,
Not wagging his sweet head: and yet as rough,
Their royal blood enchaf'd, as the rud'st wind,
That by the top doth take the mountain pine,
And make him stoop to the vale. 'Tis wonderful,
That an invisible instinct should frame them
To royalty unlearn'd; honour untaught;
Civility not seen from other; valour,
That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop
As if it had been sow'd! Yet still it's strange,
What Cloten's being here to us portends;
Or what his death will bring us.

Re-enter Guiderius.

It did not speak before. All solemn things
Should answer solemn accidents. The matter?

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The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor
The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,
Out-sweeten'd not thy breath: the ruddock would
With charitable bill, (O bill, sore-shaming
Those rich-left heirs, that let their fathers lie
Without a monument!) bring thee all this;
Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are
To winter-ground thy corse.

Gui. Pr'ythee, have done;

And do not play in wench-like words with that
Which is so serious. Let us bury him,
And not protract with admiration what
Is now due debt.-To the grave.

Arv. Say, where shall's lay him?
Gui. By good Euriphile, our mother.
Arv. Be't so;

And let us, Polydore, though now our voices
Have got the mannish crack, sing him to the

As once our mother; use like note, and words.

Gui. Where's my brother?

I have sent Cloten's clotpole down the stream,
In embassy to his mother: his body's hostage
For his return.
[solemn music.

Bel. My ingenious instrument!
Hark, Polydore, it sounds! But what occasion
Hath Cadwal now to give it motion; Hark!

Gui. Is he at home?

Bel. He went hence even now.

Gui. What does he mean? since death of my Save that Euriphile must be Fidele.
Gui. Cadwal,

dear'st mother

I cannot sing: I'll weep, and word it with thee: | But, soft! no bed-fellow:-O, gods and god. For notes of sorrow, out of tune, are worse desses! [seeing the body. These flowers are like the pleasures of the world; This bloody man, the care on't.—I hope, I dream;

Than priests and fanes that lie.

Arv. We'll speak it then.

Bel. Great griefs, I see, medicine the less: For, so, I thought I was a cave-keeper,

for Cloten

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As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Arv. Fear no more the frown o'the great, Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; Care no more to clothe, and eat;

To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust. Gui. Fear no more the lightning-flash, Arv. Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone; Gui. Fear not slander, censure rash; Arv. Thou hast finish'd joy and moan: Both. All lovers young, all love:s must Consign to thee, and come to dust. Gui. No exorciser harm thee!! Arv. Nor no witchcraft charm thee! Gui. Ghost unlaid forbear thee! Arv. Nothing ill come near thee! Both. Quiet consummation have; And renowned be thy grave!

Re-enter Belarius, with the body of Cloten. Gui. We have done our obsequies: come, lay him down.

[more: Bel. Here's a few flowers; but about midnight, The herbs, that have on them cold dew o'the night, [faces:Are strewings fitt'st for graves.-Upon their You were as flowers, now wither'd: even so These herb'lets shall, which we upon you strow. Come on, away: apart upon your knees. The ground, that gave them first, has them again: Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain.

[exeunt Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus. Imo. [awaking] Yes, sir, to Milford-Haven; which is the way?I thank you. By yon bush?-Pray, how far


And cook to honest creatures: but 'tis not so; 'Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot at nothing, Which the brain makes of fumes: our very eyes Are sometimes like our judgements, blind. Good faith,

I tremble still with fear: but if there be
Yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity
As a wren's eye, fear'd gods, a part of it!
The dream's here still even when I wake, it is
Without me, as within me; not imagin'd, felt.
A headless man!-The garments of Posthúmus!
I know the shape of his leg: this is his hand
His foot Mercurial; his martial thigh;

The brawns of Hercules: but his Jovial faceMurder in heaven?-How?-'Tis gone.-Pisanio,

All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks,
And mine to boot, be darted on thee! Thou,
Conspir'd with that irregulous devil, Cloten,
Hast here cut off my lord.-To write, and read,
Be henceforth treacherous!-Damn'd Pisanio
Hath with his forged letters-damn'd Pisanio-
From this most bravest vessel of the world
Struck the main-top!-O, Posthúmus! alas,
Where is thy head? where's that? Ah, me!
where's that?


Pisanio might have kill'd thee at the heart,
And left this head on.-How should this be?


'Tis he, and Cloten: malice and lucre in them Have laid this woe here. O, 'tis pregnant, pregnant

The drug he gave me, which, he said, was precious
And cordial to me, have I not found it
Murd'rous to the senses? That confirms it home:
This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten's: O!-
Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood,
That we the horrider may seem to those
Which chance to find us; O, my lord, my lord!
Enter Lucius, a Captain, &c. and Soothsayer.

Cap. To them, the legions garrison'd in Gallia, After your will, have cross'd the sea; attending You here at Milford-Haven, with your ships: They are here in readiness.

Luc. But what from Rome?

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Be muster'd; bid the captains look to't.-Now,
What have you dream'd, of late, of this war's
Sooth. Last night the very gods show'd me a


Ods pittikins!-can it be six miles yet?

I have gone all night;-'Faith, I'll lie down and (I fast, and pray'd, for their intelligence) Thus;


I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd

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Luc. Dream often so,

And never false.-Soft, ho! what trunk is here
Without his top? The ruin speaks, that sometime
It was a worthy building.-How! a page!- -
Or dead, or sleeping on him? But dead, rather:
For nature doth abhor to make his bed
With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead.-
Let's see the boy's face.


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Imo. I am nothing: or if not, 195
Nothing to be were better. This was my master,
A very valiant Briton, and a good,

That here by mountaineers lies slain :-Alas!
-There are no more such masters:
may wander
From east to occident, cry out for service,
Try many, all good, serve truly, never
Find such another master.

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Cap. He is alive, my lord.

Luc. He'll then instruct us of this body. Dost seem so ignorant, we'll enforce it from thes

Young one,

By a sharp torture.

Pis. Sir, my life is yours,

Inform us of thy fortunes; for, it seems,
They crave to be demanded: who is this,
I humbly set it at your will; but, for my mistress,
Thou mak'st thy bloody pillow? Or who was he, I nothing know where she remains, why gone,
That, otherwise than noble nature did,
Nor when she purposes return.
'Beseech your
Hath alter'd that good picture? What's thy interest Hold me your royal servant.
In his sad wreck? How came it? Who is it?
1 Lord. Good, my liege,
What art thou?

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Luc. 'Lack, good youth!

Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining, than
Thy master in bleeding: say his name, good friend.
Imo. Richard du Champ. If I do lie, and do
No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope


They'll pardon it. Say you, sir?

Luc. Thy name;

Imo. Fidele.

Lic. Thou dost approve thyself the very same:
Thy name well fits thy faith; thy faith, thy name.
Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say,
Thou shalt be so well master'd; but, be sure,
No less belov'd. The Roman emperor's letters,
Sent by a consul to me, should not sooner
Than thine own worth prefer thee: go with me.
Imo. I'll follow, sir. But, first, an't please the


I'll hide my master from the flies, as deep
As these poor pickaxes can dig: and when
With wild wood-leaves and weeds I have strew'd
his grave,

And on it said a century of prayers,

Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep, and sigh;
And, leaving so his service, follow you,
So please you entertain me.

Enter Cymbeline, Lords, and Pisanio.

Cym. Again; and bring me word, how 'tis with
A fever with the absence of her son; [her.
A madness, of which her life's in danger-

Luc. Ay, good youth:

And rather father thee, than master thee.-
My friends,

The boy hath taught us manly duties: let us

Find out the prettiest daizied plot we can,

And make him with our pikes and partisans

A grave: come, arm him.-Boy, he is preferr'd

By thee to us; and he shall be interr'd

As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes;
Some falls are means the happier to arise. [exeunt.

How deeply you at once do touch me! Imogen,
The great part of my comfort, gone: my queen,
Upon a desperate bed; and in a time,
When fearful wars point at me; her son gone,
So needful for this present: it strikes me, past
The hope of comfort.But for thee, fellow,
Who needs must know of her departure, and

The day that she was missing, he was here:
I dare be bound he's true, and shall perform
All parts of his subjection loyally.
For Cloten,-

There wants no diligence in seeking him,

And will, no doubt, be found.

Cym. The time's troublesome :

We'll slip you for a season; but our jealousy [to Pis.
Does yet depend.

1 Lord. So please your majesty,
The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn,
Are landed on your coast; with a supply
Of Roman gentlemen, by the senate sent.
Cym. Now for the counsel of my son, and
I am amaz'd with matter.

1 Lord. Good my liege.

Your preparation can affront no less

Than what you hear of: come more, for more
you're ready':

The want is, but to put those powers in motion,
That long to move.

Cym. I thank you: let's withdraw:
And meet the time, as it seeks us.
What can from Italy annoy us: but
We grieve at chances here.-Away.


Pis. I heard no letter from my master, since
I wrote him, Imogen was slain: 'tis strange :
Nor hear I from iny mistress, who did promise
To yield me often tidings; neither know I
What is betid to Cloten: but remain
Perplex'd in all. The heavens still must work:
Wherein I am false, I am honest; not true, to be

These present wars shall find I love my country,
Even to the note o'the king, or I'll fall in them.
All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd:
Fortune brings in some boats, that are not steer'd.


We fear not


Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.
Gui. The noise is round about us.

Bel. Let us from it.

Arv. What pleasure, sir, find we in life, to From action and adventure!

Clock it

Gui. Nay; what hope

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