The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: zz3r - Tragedies, p. 369

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THE TRAGEDIE OF CYMBELINE.
Actus Primus. Scœna Prima. [Act 1, Scene 1] Enter two Gentlemen. 1. Gent. YOu do not meet a man but Frownes. Our bloods no more obey the Heauens Then our Courtiers: Still seeme, as do's the Kings. 2 Gent.
[5]
But what's the matter?
1. His daughter, and the heire of's kingdome (whom He purpos'd to his wiues sole Sonne, a Widdow That late he married) hath referr'd her selfe Vnto a poore, but worthy Gentleman. She's wedded,
[10]
Her Husband banish'd; she imprison'd, all Is outward sorrow, though I thinke the King Be touch'd at very heart.
2 None but the King? 1 He that hath lost her too: so is the Queene,
[15]
That most desir'd the Match. But not a Courtier, Although they weare their faces to the bent Of the Kings lookes, hath a heart that is not Glad at the thing they scowle at.
2 And why so? 1
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He that hath miss'd the Princesse, is a thing Too bad, for bad report: and he that hath her, (I meane, that married her, alacke good man, And therefore banish'd) is a Creature, such, As to seeke through the Regions of the Earth
[25]
For one, his like; there would be something failing In him, that should compare. I do not thinke, So faire an Outward, and such stuffe Within Endowes a man, but hee.
2 You speake him farre. 1
[30]
I do extend him (Sir) within himselfe, Crush him together, rather then vnfold His measure duly.
2 What's his name, and Birth? 1 I cannot delue him to the roote: His Father
[35]
Was call'd Sicillius, who did ioyne his Honor Against the Romanes, with Cassibulan, But had his Titles by Tenantius, whom He seru'd with Glory, and admir'd Successe: So gain'd the Sur‑addition, Leonatus.
[40]
And had (besides this Gentleman in question) Two other Sonnes, who in the Warres o'th'time Dy'de with their Swords in hand. For which, their Father Then old, and fond of yssue, tooke such sorrow That he quit Be ng; and his gentle Lady

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[45]
Bigge of this Gentleman (our Theame) deceast As he was borne. The King he takes the Babe To his protection, cals him Posthumus Leonatus, Breedes him, and makes him of his Bed‑chamber, Puts to him all the Learnings that his time
[50]
Could make him the receiuer of, which he tooke As we do ayre, fast as 'twas ministred, And in's Spring, became a Haruest: Liu'd in Court (Which rare it is to do) most prais'd, most lou'd, A sample to the yongest: to th'more Mature,
[55]
A glasse that feated them: and to the grauer, A Childe that guided Dotards. To his Mistris, (For whom he now is banish'd) her owne price Proclaimes how she esteem'd him; and his Vertue By her electiō election may be truly read, what kind of man he is.
2
[60]
I honor him, euen out of your report. But pray you tell me, is she sole childe to'th'King?
1 His onely childe: He had two Sonnes (if this be worth your hearing, Marke it) the eldest of them, at three yeares old
[65]
I'th'swathing cloathes, the other from their Nursery Were stolne, and to this houre, no ghesse in knowledge Which way they went.
2 How long is this ago ? 1 Some twenty yeares. 2
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That a Kings Children should be so conuey'd, So slackely guarded, and the search so slow That could not trace them.
1 Howsoere, 'tis strange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at:
[75]
Yet is it true Sir.
2 I do well beleeue you. 1 We must forbeare. Heere comes the Gentleman, The Queene, and Princesse. Exeunt
Scena Secunda. [Act 1, Scene 1 cont.] Enter the Queene, Posthumus, and Imogen. Qu. No, be assur'd you shall not finde me (Daughter)
[80]
After the slander of most Step‑Mothers, Euill‑ey'd vnto you. You're my Prisoner, but Your Gaoler shall deliuer you the keyes zz3 That

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Scena Tertia. [Act 1, Scene 2] Enter Clotten, and two Lords. 1.

Sir, I would aduise you to shift a Shirt; the Vio­

lence of Action hath made you reek as a Sacrifice: where

ayre comes out, ayre comes in: There's none abroad so

wholesome as that you vent.

Clot.
[220]
If my Shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Haue I hurt him?
2

No faith: not so much as his patience.

1

Hurt him? His bodie's a passable Carkasse if he bee

not hurt. It is a through‑fare for Steele if it be not hurt.

2
[225]

His Steele was in debt, it went o'th'Backe‑side the

Towne.

Clot.

The Villaine would not stand me.

2

No, but he fled forward still, toward your face.

1

Stand you? you haue Land enough of your owne:

[230]

But he added to your hauing, gaue you some ground.

2

As many Inches, as you haue Oceans (Puppies.)

Clot.

I would they had not come betweene vs.

2

So would I, till you had measur'd how long a Foole

you were vpon the ground.

Clot.
[235]

And that shee should loue this Fellow, and re­

fuse mee.

2

If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damn'd.

1

Sir, as I told you alwayes: her Beauty & her Braine

go not together. Shee's a good signe, but I haue seene

[240]

small reflection of her wit.

2 She shines not vpon Fooles, least the reflection Should hurt her. Clot.

Come, Ile to my Chamber: would there had

beene some hurt done.

2
[245]

I wish not so, vnlesse it had bin the fall of an Asse,

which is no great hurt.

Clot.

You'l go with vs?

1

Ile attend your Lordship.

Clot.

Nay come, let's go together.

2
[250]

Well my Lord.

Exeunt.
 

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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="2" rend="notPresent">
   <head rend="italic center">Scena Tertia.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 1, Scene 2]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Clotten, and two Lords.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.1">
      <speaker>1.</speaker>
      <p n="216">Sir, I would aduise you to shift a Shirt; the Vio­
      <lb n="217"/>lence of Action hath made you reek as a Sacrifice: where
      <lb n="218"/>ayre comes out, ayre comes in: There's none abroad so
      <lb n="219"/>wholesome as that you vent.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="220">If my Shirt were bloody, then to shift it.</l>
      <l n="221">Haue I hurt him?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.2">
      <speaker>2</speaker>
      <p n="222">No faith: not so much as his patience.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.1">
      <speaker>1</speaker>
      <p n="223">Hurt him? His bodie's a passable Carkasse if he bee
      <lb n="224"/>not hurt. It is a through‑fare for Steele if it be not hurt.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.2">
      <speaker>2</speaker>
      <p n="225">His Steele was in debt, it went o'th'Backe‑side the
      <lb n="226"/>Towne.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <p n="227">The Villaine would not stand me.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.2">
      <speaker>2</speaker>
      <p n="228">No, but he fled forward still, toward your face.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.1">
      <speaker>1</speaker>
      <p n="229">Stand you? you haue Land enough of your owne:
      <lb n="230"/>But he added to your hauing, gaue you some ground.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.2">
      <speaker>2</speaker>
      <p n="231">As many Inches, as you haue Oceans (Puppies.)</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <p n="232">I would they had not come betweene vs.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.2">
      <speaker>2</speaker>
      <p n="233">So would I, till you had measur'd how long a Foole
      <lb n="234"/>you were vpon the ground.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <p n="235">And that shee should loue this Fellow, and re­
      <lb n="236"/>fuse mee.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.2">
      <speaker>2</speaker>
      <p n="237">If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damn'd.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.1">
      <speaker>1</speaker>
      <p n="238">Sir, as I told you alwayes: her Beauty &amp; her Braine
      <lb n="239"/>go not together. Shee's a good signe, but I haue seene
      <lb n="240"/>small reflection of her wit.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.2">
      <speaker>2</speaker>
      <l n="241">She shines not vpon Fooles, least the reflection</l>
      <l n="242">Should hurt her.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <p n="243">Come, Ile to my Chamber: would there had
      <lb n="244"/>beene some hurt done.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.2">
      <speaker>2</speaker>
      <p n="245">I wish not so, vnlesse it had bin the fall of an Asse,
      <lb n="246"/>which is no great hurt.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <p n="247">You'l go with vs?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.1">
      <speaker>1</speaker>
      <p n="248">Ile attend your Lordship.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <p n="249">Nay come, let's go together.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.2">
      <speaker>2</speaker>
      <p n="250">Well my Lord.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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