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Why, such, and such:-And the contents o'the

story,

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 breast
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
ta'en

Enter Cymbeline and Queen.

2 Lord. Here comes the king.

Clo. I am glad, I was up so late, for that's the reason I was up so early: He cannot choose but take this service I have done, fatherly.-Good morrow to your majesty, and to my gracious mother.

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

Clo. I have assailed her with music, but she vouchsafes no notice.

Cym. The exile of her minion is too new;
She hath not yet forgot him: some more time
Must wear the print of his remembrance out,
And then she's yours.

Queen. You are most bound to the king;
Who lets go by no vantages, that may
Prefer you to his daughter: frame yourself
-To what To orderly solicits: and be friended

The treasure of her honour. No more.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
dawning

May bare the raven's eye: I lodge in fear;
Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here. [clock.
One, two, three,-Time, time! [goes into the trunk.
SCENE III. AN ANTI-CHAMBER ADJOINING IMOGEN'S

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With aptness of the season: make denials
Increase your services: so seem, as if
You were inspir'd to do those duties, which
You tender to her; that you in all obey her,
Save when command to your dismission tends,
And therein you are senseless.
Clo. Senseless? not so.

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!
I know her women are about her; what [knocks.
If I do line one of their hands? 'tis gold,
Which buys admittance; oft it doth; yea, and
Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up [makes
Their deer to the stand of the stealer; and 'tis gola
Which makes the true man kill'd, and saves the

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2

Lady. How! my good name? or to report of you | Frighted, and anger'd worse:What I shall think is good?-The princess

Enter Imogen.

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[rather

For

[souls

Obedience, which you owe your father.
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
(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's cloth,
A pantler, not so eminent.

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-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.

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SCENE IV. ROME. AN APARTMENT AT PHILARIO'S. Enter Posthumus and Philario.

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 hopes

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

Phi. Your very goodness, and your company, O'crpays 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.

Post. 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
To their approvers, they are people, such [known
That mend upon the world.

Enter Iachimo.
Phi. See! Iachimo!

[land:

Post. The swiftest harts have posted you by And winds of all the corners kiss'd your sails, To make your vessel nimble.

Phi. Welcome, sir.

Post. I hope, the briefness of your answer made The speediness of your return.

Iach. Your lady

Is one the fairest, that I have look'd upon.
Post. And, therewithal, the best; or let her

beauty

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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. Not a whit,

Your lady being so easy.

Post. Make not, sir,

Your loss your sport; I hope, you know that we) Must not continue friends.

Iach. Good sir, we must,

If you keep covenant: had I not brought
The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant
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.

Post. 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. 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.

Post. Proceed.

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

Post. This is true;

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Was as another nature, dumb; outwent her, Motion and breath left out.

Post. 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 cherubims is fretted: her andirons (I had forgot them,) were two winking Cupids. Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely Depending on their brands.

Post. 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.

Post. Jove!

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.

Post. May be, she pluck'd it off, To send it me.

Iach. She writes so to you? doth she? [too; Post. O, no, no, no; 'tis true. Here, take this It is a basilisk unto mine eye, [gives the ring. Kills me to look on't:-Let there be no honour, Where there is beauty; truth, where semblance; love,

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, being corrupted,
Hath stolen it from her?

Post. Very true;

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And by a stranger?No; he hath enjoy'd her: The cognizance of her incontinency

[dearly.—

Is this, she hath bought the name of whore thus There, take thy hire; and all the fiends of hell Divide themselves between you!

Phi. Sir, be patient:

This is not strong enough to be bellcv'd Of one persuaded well of

Post. Never talk on't: She hath been colted by him. Iach. If you seek

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For further satisfying, under her breast
(Worthy the pressing,) lies a mole, right proud
Of that most delicate lodging: By my life,
I kiss'd it; and it gave me present hunger.
To feed again, though full. You do remember

This stain upon her?

Post. Ay, and it doth confirm

Another stain, as big as hell can hold,
Were there no more but it.

Iach. Will you hear more?

Post. Spare your arithmetic: never count the Once, and a million!

Iach. I'll be sworn,-
Post. No swearing.

[turns;

If you will swear you have not done't, you lie;
And I will kill thee, if thou dost deny
Thou hast made me cuckold. '

Iach. I will deny nothing.

[meal!

Post. O, that I had her here, to tear her limbI will go there, and do't; i'the court; before Her father: I'll do something

Phi. Quite besides

[erit.

The government of patience !-You have won :
Let's follow him, and pervert the present wrath
He hath against himself,

Iach. With all my heart.

When I was stamp'd; some coiner with his tools
Made me a counterfeit: yet my mother seem'd
The Dian of that time: so doth my wife
The nonpareil of this. O vengeance, vengeance!
Me of my lawful pleasure she restrain'd,
And pray'd me, oft, forbearance: did it with
A pudency so rosy, the sweet view on't
Might well have warm'd old Saturn; that
thought her

As chaste as unsunn'd snow:- O, all the de-
vils!-

This yellow Iachimo in an hour,-was't not?—
Or less, at first: perchance he spoke not; but,
Like a full acorn'd boar, a German one,
Cry'd, oh and mounted: found no opposition
But what he look'd for should oppose, and she
Should from encounter guard. Could I find out
The woman's part in me! For there's no motion
That tends to vice in man, but I affirm
It is the woman's part; be it lying, note it,
The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers
Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,
Nice longings, slanders, mutability,

All faults that may be nam'd, nay, that hell knows,
Why, hers, in part, or all; but, rather, all:

Lexeunt. For even to vice

SCENE V. THE SAME. ANOTHER ROOM IN THE SAME.

Enter Posthumus.

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 them have their will:
The very devils cannot plague them better. [exit.
ACT III.

Post. Is there no way for men to be, but women
Must be half-workers? We are bastards all;
And that most venerable man, which I
Did call my father, was I know not where

SCENE I. BRITAIN. A ROOM OF STATE IN CYMBE-
LINE'S PALACE.

Of came, and saw, and overcame: with shame (The first that ever touch'd him,) he was carried Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, & Lords, at one From off our coast, twice beaten; and his shipping door; at another, Caius Lucius, and Attendants. (Poor ignorant baubles!) on our terrible seas, Cym, Now say, what would Augustus Cæsar Like egg-shells moved upon their surges, crack'd with us? Lyet As easily 'gainst our rocks: for joy whereof, Luc. When Julius Cæsar (whose remembrance The fam'd Cassibelan, who was once at point Lives in men's eyes; and will, to ears and tongues, (O, giglot fortune!) to master Cæsar's sword, Be theme, and hearing ever,) was in this Britain, Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright, And conquer'd it, Cassibelan, thine uncle, And Britons strut with courage. (Famous in Caesar's praises, no whit less Than in his feats deserving it,) for him, And his succession, granted Rome a tribute, Yearly three thousand pounds; which by thee Is left untender'd,

Queen. And, to kill the marvel, a veggja ti

Shall be so ever.

Clo. There be many Cæsars,

Ere such another Julius. Britain is

[lately

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

Queen. 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' boats,
But suck them up to the top-mast. A kind of

conquest

Cesar made here; but made not here his brag,

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 Cesar can hide the sun from us with a blanket, or put the moon in his pocket, we will pay him tribute for light; else, 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 am-
bition

(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 Casar,

Our ancestor was that Mulmutius, which
Ordain'd our laws; (whose use the sword of Cæsar
Hath too much mangled; whose repair and fran-
chise,

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.

Luc. I am sorry, Cymbeline,
That I am to pronounce Augustus Cæsar
(Cæsar, that hath more kings his servants, than
Thyself domestic 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; I 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.

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Pis. How! of adultery? Wherefore write you
What monster's her accuser?-Leonatus!
O, master! what a strange infection
Is fallen into thy ear? What false Italian
(As poisonous-tongu'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
Thy fortunes. -How! that I should murder her?
Upon the love, and truth, and vows which I
Have made to thy command ?-I, her?-her
blood?

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 to? Do't: the letter
That I have sent her, by her own command

[reading.
Shall give the opportunity:'-O, damn'd paper!
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.
Enter Imogen.

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

[tus ?

Pis. Madam, here is a letter from my lord.
Imo. Who? thy lord? that is my lord? Leona-
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 my 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 physic love ;-of his content,
All but in that!-Good wax, thy leave:-Bless'd
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, should 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 MilfordHaven. What your own love will, out of this, advise you follow. So, he wishes you all happiness, that remains loyal to his vow, and your, increasing 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 hither. 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;
For mine's beyond beyond) say, and speak thick,
(Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing,
To the smothering of the sense) how far it is
To this same blessed Milford: and, by the way,
Tell me how Wales was made so happy, as
To inherit such a haven; but, first of all,
How we may steal from hence; and, for the gap
That we shall make in time, from our hence-going,
And our return, to excuse :-but first, how get
Why should excuse be born or ere begot? [hence,
We'll talk of that hereafter. Pr'ythee, speak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
'Twixt hour and hour?

Pis. One score, 'twixt sun and sun,
Madam, 's enough for you; and too much, too.

Imo. Why, one that rode to his execution, man, Could never go so slow: I have heard of riding

wagers,

Where horses have been nimbler than the sands That run i'the clock's behalf:-but this is foolGo, bid my woman feign a sickness; say, [ery:She'll home to her father: and provide me, preA riding suit; no costlier than would fit [sently A franklin's housewife.

Pis. Madam, you're best consider.

Imo. I see before me, man, nor here, nor here, Nor what ensues; but have a fog in them, That I cannot look through. Away, I pr'ythee; Do as I bid thee: there's no more to say; Accessible is none but Milford way.

[exeunt.

SCENE III. WALES. A MOUNTAINOUS COUNTRY, WITH A CAVE.

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus. Bel. A goodly day not to keep house, with such

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