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CYMBELINE.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

CYMBELINE, King of Britain.
CLOTEN, Son to the Queen by a
former husband.
LÉONATUS POSTHUMUS, a Gen-
tleman, Husband to Imogen.
BELARIUS, a banished Lord, dis-
guised under the name of Morgan.
GUIDERIUS, Sons to Cymbeline,
ARVIRAGUS, disguised under the
names of POLYDORE and CAD-
WAL, supposed sons to Belarius.
PHILARIO, Friend to

Posthumus,
IACHIMO, Friend to
Philario,

Italians.

A FRENCH GENTLEMAN, Friend
to Philario.

CAIUS LUCIUS, General of the
Roman Forces.

A ROMAN CAPTAIN.
Two BRITISH CAPTAINS.
PISANIO, Servant to Posthumus.
CORNELIUS, a Physician.
Two GENTLEMEN.
Two JAILERS.

QUEEN, Wife to Cymbeline.
IMOGEN, Daughter to Cymbeline,
by a former Queen.
HELEN, Woman to Imogen.

LORDS, LADIES, Roman SENA-
TORS, TRIBUNES, APPARITIONS,
a SOOTHSAYER, a Dutch GEN-
TLEMAN, a Spanish GENTLEMAN,
MUSICIANS, OFFICERS, САР-
TAINS, SOLDIERS, MESSENGERS,
and other ATTENDANTS.

SCENE.-Sometimes in Britain; sometimes in Italy.

ACT I.

SCENE I-Britain. The Garden behind CYMBELINE'S

Palace.

Enter two GENTLEMEN.

1 Gent. You do not meet a man, but frowns: our bloods No more obey the heavens, than our courtiers;

Still seem, as does the king's.

*

2 Gent. But what's the matter?

Gent. His daughter, and the heir of his kingdom, whom He purposed to his wife's sole son (a widow,

That late he married), hath referr'd herself

Unto a poor but worthy gentleman: She's wedded;
Her husband banish'd; she imprison'd: all

Is outward sorrow; though I think, the king

Be touch'd at very heart.

2 Gent. None but the king?

1 Gent. He, that hath lost her, too: so is the queen,

That most desired the match: But not a courtier,

This difficult passage should, I think, be construed thus: our counte. Dances, regulated by the blood, do not obey natural impulses, but, as cour tiers, imitate that of the king.

Although they wear their faces to the bent
Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not
Glad at the thing they scowl at.

2 Gent. And why so?

1 Gent. He that hath miss'd the princess, is a thing
Too bad for bad report: and he that hath her
(I mean, that married her,-alack, good man!-
And therefore banish'd) is a creature such
As, to seek through the regions of the earth
For one his like, there would be something failing
In him that should compare. I do not think,
So fair an outward, and such stuff within,
Endows a man but he.

2 Gent. You speak him far.*

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1 Gent. I do extend him, Sir, within himself; E BURRELATI Crush him together, rather than unfold

His measure duly.t

2 Gent. What's his name and birth?

1 Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: His father ANDAMIOAN Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honour,

Against the Romans, with Cassibelan;
But had his titles by Tenantius, whom
He served with glory and admired success:
So gain'd the sur-addition, Leonatus:

And had, besides this gentleman in question,
Two other sons, who, in the wars o' the time,

Died with their swords in hand; for which their father
(Then old and fond of issue) took such sorrow,
That he quit being; and this gentle lady,
Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceased
As he was born. The king, he takes the babe
To his protection; calls him Posthumus;
Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber:
Puts him to all the learnings that his time
Could make him the receiver of; which he took,
As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd; and
In his spring became a harvest: Lived in court
(Which rare it is to do), most praised, most loved:
A sample to the youngest; to the more mature,
A glass that feated § them; and to the graver,
A child that guided dotards: to his mistress,
For whom he now is banish'd, her own price
Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue;
By her election may be truly read,

What kind of man he is.

2 Gent. I honour him

Even out of your report. But, 'pray you, tell me,
Is she sole child to the king?

1 Gent. His only child.

He had two sons (if this be worth your hearing,

* Praise him extensively.

The father of Cymbeline.

† My praise is within his merit.

§ I. e. a model that formed their manners.

As to.

Mark it), the eldest of them at three years old,

I' the swathing clothes the other, from their nursery
Were stolen: and to this hour, no guess in knowledge
Which way they went.

2 Gent. How long is this ago?

1 Gent. Some twenty years.

2 Gent. That a king's children should be so convey'd! So slackly guarded! And the search so slow,

That could not trace them!

1 Gent. Howsoe'er 'tis strange,

Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,

Yet is it true, Sir.

2 Gent. I do well believe you.

1 Gent. We must forbear: Here comes the gentleman, The queen and princess.

SCENE II.-The same.

Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN.

[Exeunt.

Queen. No, be assured, you shall not find me, daughter,

After the slander of most step-mothers,

Evil-eyed unto you: you are my prisoner, but
Your jailer shall deliver you the keys

That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
So soon as can win the offended king,

will be known your advocate: marry, yet

The fire of rage is in him; and 'twere good,

You lean'd unto his sentence, with what patience
Your wisdom may inform you.

Post. Please your highness,

I will from hence to-day.

Queen. You know the peril :

I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying

The pangs of barr'd affections; though the king
Hath charged you should not speak together.

Imo. O

Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant

[Exit QUEEN.

Can tickle where she wounds!-My dearest husband,
I something fear my father's wrath; but nothing
(Always reserved my holy duty) what

His rage can do on me: You must be gone;
And I shall here abide the hourly shot
Of angry eyes; nor comforted to live,
But that there is this jewel in this world,
That I may see again.

Post. My queen! my mistress!

O, lady, weep no more; lest I give cause
To be suspected of more tenderness

Than doth become a man! I will remain

The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth.
My residence in Rome at one Philario's;
Who to my father was a friend, to me
Known but by letter: thither write, my queen,

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And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send,
Though ink be made of gall.

Re-enter QUEEN.

Queen. Be brief, I pray you:

How much of his displeasure:-Yet I'll move him

If the king come, I shall incur I know not

To walk this way: I never do him wrong,

But he does buy my injuries, to be friends;
Pays dear for my offences.

[Aside.

[Exit.

Post. Should we be taking leave

As long a term as yet we have to live,
The loathness to depart would grow: Adieu!
Imo. Nay, stay a little:

Were you but riding forth to air yourself,

Such parting were too petty. Look here, love;
This diamond was my mother's: take it, heart;
But keep it till you woo another wife,

When Imogen is dead.

Post. How! how! another F

You gentle gods, give me but this I have,

And sear up my embracements from a next

With bonds of death!-Remain thou here [Putting on the ring.

While sense can keep it on! And sweetest, fairest,

As I my poor self did exchange for you,

To your so infinite loss; so, in our trifles

I still win of you: For my sake, wear this;

It is a manacle of love; I'll place it
Upon this fairest prisoner.

Imo. O, the gods!

When shall we see again?

[Putting a bracelet on her arm.

Enter CYMBELINE and LORDS.

Post. Alack, the king!

Cym. Thou basest thing, avoid hence, from my sight! If, after this command, thou fraught* the court

With thy unworthiness, thou diest: Away!

Thou art poison to my blood.

Post. The gods protect you!

And bless the good remainders of the court!

I am gone.

Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death

More sharp than this is.

Cym. O disloyal thing,

That shouldst repair my youth; thou heapest

A year's age on me!

Imo. I beseech you, Sir,

Harm not yourself with your vexation; I

Am senseless of your wrath; a touch more raret

Subdues all pangs, all fears.

Cym. Past grace? obedience?

Imo. Past hope, and in despair; that way, past grace.

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[Exit.

Cym. That mightst have had the sole son of my queen!
Imo. O bless'd, that I might not! I chose an eagle,

And did avoid a puttock.*

Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; wouldst have made my throne

A seat for baseness.

Imo. No; I rather added

A lustre to it.

Cym. O thou vile one!

Imo. Sir,

It is your fault that I have loved Posthumus:
You bred him as my playfellow; and he is
A man worth any woman; overbuys me
Almost the sum he pays.

Cym. What!-art thou mad?

Imo. Almost, Sir: Heaven restore me!-'Would I were A neat-herd's daughter! and my Leonatus

Our neighbour shepherd's son!

Re-enter QUEEN.

Cym. Thou foolish thing!

They were again together: you have aone way [To the QUEEN. Not after our command. Away with her,

And pen her up.

Queen. 'Beseech your patience:-Peace,

Dear lady daughter, peace;-Sweet sovereign,

Leave us to ourselves; and make yourself some comfort

Out of your best advice.t

Cym. Nay, let her languish

A drop of blood a day; and, being aged,

Die of this folly!

Enter PISANIO.

Queen. Fie!-you must give way:

Here is your servant.-How now, Sir? What news?

Pis. My lord your son drew on my master.

Queen. Ha!

No harm, I trust, is done?

Pis. There might have been,

But that my master rather play'd than fought,

And had no help of anger: they were parted

By gentlemen at hand.

Queen. I am very glad on't.

Imo. Your son's my father's friend; he takes his part.

To draw upon an exile!-O brave Sir!

I would they were in Afric both together;

Myself by with a needle, that I might prick

The goer back.-Why came you from your master?

Pis. On his command: He would not suffer me

To bring him to the haven: left these notes
Of what commands I should be subject to,
When it pleased you to employ me.

Queen. This hath been

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[Exit.

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