I kissed the jack upon an up-cast,' to be hit away! | SCENE II-A bed-chamber; in one part of it I had a hundred pound on't: And then a whoreson a trunk. Imogen reading in her bed; a Lady jackanapes must take me up for swearing; as if I attending. borrowed mine oaths of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure. 1 Lord. What got he by that? You have broke his pate with your bowl. 2 Lord. If his wit had been like him that broke it, it would have run all out. [Aside. Clo. When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths: Ha? 2 Lord. No, my lord; nor [Aside.] crop the ears of them. Imo. Who's there? my woman Helen? Imo. What hour is it? Please you, madam. Almost midnight, madam: Imo. I have read three hours then: mine eyes Lady. are weak: Fold down the leaf where I have left: To bed; Clo. Whoreson dog!-I give him satisfaction? I pr'ythee, call me. Sleep hath seiz'd me wholly. 'Would, he had been one of my rank! 2 Lord. To have smelt like a fool. Clo. I am not more vexed at any thing in the earth,—A pox on't! I had rather not be so noble as I am; they dare not fight with me, because of the queen my mother: every jack-slave hath his belly full of fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock that nobody can match. [Exit Lady. [Aside. To your protection I commend me, gods! From fairies, and the tempters of the night, Guard me, beseech ye! 2 Lord. You are a cock and capon too; and you crow, cock, with your comb on. [Aside. Clo. Sayest thou? 1 Lord. It is not fit, your lordship should undertake every companion that you give offence to. Clo. No, I know that: but it is fit, I should commit offence to my inferiors. 2 Lord. Ay, it is fit for your lordship only. Clo. Why, so I say. 1 Lord. Did you hear of a stranger, that's come to court to-night? Clo. A stranger! and I not know on't! 2 Lord. He's a strange fellow himself, and knows it not. [Aside. [Sleeps. Iachimo, from the trunk. Iach. The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd sense Repairs itself by rest: Our Tarquin thus Such 1 Lord. There's an Italian come; and, 'tis The adornment of her bed ;-The arras, figures, thought, one of Leonatus' friends. Why, such, and such:-And the contents o'the Clo. Leonatus? a banished rascal; and he's another, whatsoever he be. Who told you of this stranger? 1 Lord. One of your lordship's pages. story, Ah, but some natural notes about her body, Clo. Is it fit I went to look upon him? Is there sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her! no derogation in't! 3 1 Lord. You cannot derogate, my lord. Clo. Not easily, I think. 2 Lord. You are a fool granted; therefore your issues being foolish, do not derogate. [Aside. Clo. Come, I'll go see this Italian: What I have lost to-day at bowls, I'll win to-night of him. Come, go. 2 Lord. I'll attend your lordship. [Exeunt Cloten and first Lord. Of the divorce he'd make! The heavens hold The walls of thy dear honour; keep unshak'd That temple, thy fair mind; that thou may'st stand, To enjoy thy banish'd lord, and this great land! [Exit. (1) He is describing his fate at bowls; the jack is the small bowl at which the others are aimed. (2) Fellow. (3) i. e. Degrade yourself. And be her sense but as a monument, ta'en The treasure of her honour. No more.-To what Why should I write this down, that's riveted, May bare the raven's eye: I lodge in fear; [Goes into the trunk. The scene closes. (4) It was anciently the custom to strew cham bers with rushes. (5) i. e. The white skin laced with blue veins (6) Tapestry. SCENE III.-An ante-chamber adjoining Imo-Albeit he comes on angry purpose now; Clo. Winning would put any man into courage: If I could get this foolish Imogen, I should have gold enough: It's almost morning, is't not? 1 Lord. Day, my lord. Clo. I would this music would come: I am advised to give her music o'mornings; they say, it will penetrate. Enter Musicians. Come on; tune: If you can penetrate her with your 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. SONG. tress, But that's no fault of his: We must receive him queen. I know her women are about her: What Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up Nay, sometime, hangs both thief and true man: Can it not do, and undo? I will make Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, One of her women lawyer to me; for And Phabus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chalic'd' flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin With every thing that pretty bin: So, get you gone: If this penetrate, I will consider Enter Cymbeline and Queen. 2 Lord. Here comes the king. Clo. I am glad, I was up so late; for that's the I yet not understand the case myself. Enter a Lady. [Knocks. Lady. How! my good name? or to report of you reason I was up so early: He cannot choose but What I shall think is good?-The princess- 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; Queen. Senseless? not so. Enter Imogen. Clo. Good morrow, fairest sister: Your sweet hand. Imo. Good morrow, sir: You lay out too much For purchasing but trouble: the thanks I give, Clo. Clo. This is no answer. Imo. But that you shall not say I yield, being silent, I would not speak. I pray you, spare me: i'faith, To your best kindness; one of your great knowing Clo. To leave you in your madness, 'twere my sin: I will not. Imo. Fools are not mad folks. Clo. Imo. As I am mad, I do : Do you call me fool1 If you'll be patient, I'll no more be mad; (3) With solicitations not only proper, but welltimed. That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir, (To accuse myself,) I hate you: which I had rather Clo. Imo. The south fog rot him! come To be but nam'd of thee. His meanest garment, Clo. His garment? Now, the devil- Imo. To win the king, as I am bold, her honour Phi. I barely gratify your love; they failing, Phi. Your very goodness, end your company, Post. Their tenor good, I trust. Iach. But not approach'd. Post. He was expected then, All is well yet.— Sparkles this stone as it was wont? or is't not Hath left mine arm; it was thy master's: 'shrew me, His meanest garment? Imo. You have abus'd Ay; I said so, sir. If you will make't an action, call witness to't. She's my good lady; and will conceive, I hope, Clo. Your mother too : [Exit. I'll be reveng'd: [Exit. His meanest garment?-Well. (1) So verbose, so full of talk. 2) In knots of their own tying. (3) A low fellow, only fit to wear a livery. lach. If I have lost it, Make not, sir, Not a whit, Your loss your sport: I hope, you know that we 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. Proceed. Post. Jach. 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; And this you might have heard of here, by me, Or by some other. More particulars Iach. Must justify my knowledge. Post. Or do your honour injury. So they must, The chimney Iach. 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. For further satisfying, under her breast I kiss'd it; and it gave me present hunger Post. Will you hear more? Post. Spare your arithmetic: never count the turns ; Once, and a million! Iach. Post. I'll be sworn, No swearing. If you will swear you have not done't, you lie ; Jach. meal! I will go there, and do't; i'the court; before [Exit. Iach. With all my heart. [Exeunt. SCENE V.-The same. Another room in the same. Enter Posthumus. Post. Is there no way for men to be, but women (2) The badge; the token. As chaste as unsunn'd snow :-O, all the devils!- It is the woman's part: Be it lying, note it, All faults that may be nam'd, may that hell knows, They are not constant, but are changing still Not half so old as that. I'll write against them, ACT III. From off our coast, twice beaten; and his shipping Clo. Come, there's no more tribute to be paid: Our kingdon is stronger than it was at that time; and, as I said, there is no more such Cæsar's: other of them 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 ambition (Which swell'd so much that it did almost stretch Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed, SCENE I-Britain. A room of state in Cymbe-Though Rome be therefore angry;) Mulmutius, line's palace. Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, and Lords, at one door; and at another, Caius Lucius, and Attendants. Queen. Shall be so ever. Clo. And, to kill the marvel, There be many Cesars, Ere such another Julius. Britain is A world by it itself; and we will nothing pay, Queen Cæsar made here; but made not here his brag, 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 ine, 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. Luc. Make Let proof speak. Clo. His majesty bids you welcome. 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. Cym. I know your master's pleasure, and he mine: |