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: zz6v - Tragedies, p. 376

Left Column


The Tragedy of Cymbeline.

must take me vp for swearing, as if I borrowed mine

oathes of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure.

1.

What got he by that? you haue broke his pate

with your Bowle.

2.
[820]

If his wit had bin like him that broke it: it would

haue run all out.

Clot.

When a Gentleman is dispos'd to sweare: it is

not for any standers by to curtall his oathes. Ha?

2.

No my Lord; nor crop the eares of them.

Clot.
[825]

Whorson dog: I gaue him satisfaction? would

he had bin one of my Ranke.

2.

To haue smell'd like a Foole.

Clot.

I am not vext more at any thing in th'earth: a

pox on't. I had rather not be so Noble as I am: they dare

[830]

not fight with me, because of the Queene my Mo­

ther: euery Iacke‑Slaue hath his belly full of Fighting,

and I must go vp and downe like a Cock, that no body

can match.

2.

You are Cocke and Capon too, and you crow

[835]

Cock, with your combe on.

Clot.

Sayest thou ?

2.

It is not fit you Lordship should vndertake euery

Companion, that you giue offence too.

Clot.

No, I know that: but it is fit I should commit

[840]

offence to my inferiors.

2.

I, it is fit for your Lordship onely.

Clot.

Why so I say.

1.

Did you heere of a Stranger that's come to Court

night?

Clot.
[845]

A Stranger, and I not know on't?

2.

He's a strange Fellow himselfe, and knowes it not.

1.

There's an Italian come, and 'tis thought one of

Leonatus Friends.

Clot.

Leonatus? A banisht Rascall; and he's another,

[850]

whatsoeuer he be. Who told you of this Stranger ?

1. One of your Lordships Pages. Clot.

Is it fit I went to looke vpon him? Is there no

der This r has slipped below the rest of the line.ogation in't?

2.

You cannot derogate my Lord.

Clot.
[855]

Not easily I thinke.

2.

You are a Foole graunted, therefore your Issues

being foolish do not derogate.

Clot.

Come, Ile go see this Italian: what I haue lost

to day at Bowles, Ile winne to night of him. Come: go.

2.
[860]

Ile attend your Lordship.

Exit. That such a craftie Diuell as is his Mother Should yeild the world this Asse: A woman, that Beares all downe with her Braine, and this her Sonne, Cannot take two from twenty for his heart,
[865]
And leaue eighteene. Alas poore Princesse, Thou diuine Imogen, what thou endur'st, Betwixt a Father by thy Step‑dame gouern'd, A Mother hourely coyning plots: A Wooer, More hatefull then the foule expulsion is
[870]
Of thy deere Husband. Then that horrid Act Of the diuorce, heel'd make the Heauens hold firme The walls of thy deere Honour. Keepe vnshak'd That Temple thy faire mind, that thou maist stand T'enioy thy banish'd Lord: and this great Land.
Exeunt.
Scena Secunda. [Act 2, Scene 2] Enter Imogen, in her Bed, and a Lady. Imo.
[875]
Who's there? My woman: Helene?
La. Please you Madam. Imo. What houre is it?

Image


[full image]

Right Column


Lady. Almost midnight, Madam. Imo. I haue read three houres then:
[880]
Mine eyes are weake, Fold downe the leafe where I haue left: to bed. Take not away the Taper, leaue it burning: And if thou canst awake by foure o'th'clock, I prythee call me: Sleepe hath ceiz'd me wholly.
[885]
To your protection I commend me, Gods, From Fayries, and the Tempters of the night, Guard me beseech yee.
Sleepes. Iachimo from the Trunke. Iach. The Crickets sing, and mans ore‑labor'd sense Repaires it selfe by rest: Our Tarquine thus
[890]
Did softly presse the Rushes, ere he waken'd The Chastitie he wounded. Cytherea, How brauely thou becom'st thy Bed; fresh Lilly, And whiter then the Sheetes: that I might touch, But kisse, one kisse. Rubies vnparagon'd,
[895]
How deerely they doo't: 'Tis her breathing that Perfumes the Chamber thus: the Flame o'th'Taper Bowes toward her, and would vnder‑peepe her lids. To see th'inclosed Lights, now Canopied Vnder these windowes, White and Azure lac'd
[900]
With Blew of Heauens owne tinct. But my designe. To note the Chamber, I will write all downe, Such, and such pictures: There the window, such Th'adornement of her Bed; the Arras, Figures, Why such, and such: and the Contents o'th'Story.
[905]
Ah, but some naturall notes about her Body, Aboue ten thousand meaner Moueables Would testifie, t'enrich mine Inuentorie. O sleepe, thou Ape of death, lye dull vpon her, And be her Sense but as a Monument,
[910]
Thus in a Chappell lying. Come off, come off; As slippery as the Gordian‑knot was hard. 'Tis mine, and this will witnesse outwardly, As strongly as the Conscience do's within: To'th'madding of her Lord. On her left brest
[915]
A mole Cinque‑spotted: Like the Crimson drops I'th'bottome of a Cowslippe. Heere's a Voucher, Stronger then euer Law could make; this Secret Will force him thinke I haue pick'd the lock, and t'ane The treasure of her Honour. No more: to what end?
[920]
Why should I write this downe, that's riueted, Screw'd to my memorie. She hath bin reading late, The Tale of Tereus, heere the leaffe's turn'd downe Where Philomele gaue vp. I haue enough, To'th'Truncke againe, and shut the spring of it.
[925]
Swift, swift, you Dragons of the night, that dawning May beare the Rauens eye: I lodge in feare, Though this a heauenly Angell: hell is heere. Clocke strikes One, two, three: time, time.
Exit.
Scena Tertia. [Act 2, Scene 3] Enter Clotten, and Lords. 1.

Your Lordship is the most patient man in losse, the

[930]

most coldest that euer turn'd vp Ace.

Clot.

It would make any man cold to loose.

1.

But not euery man patient after the noble temper

of your Lordship; You are most hot, and furious when

you winne.

Clot.

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Scena Secunda. [Act 2, Scene 2] Enter Imogen, in her Bed, and a Lady. Imo.
[875]
Who's there? My woman: Helene?
La. Please you Madam. Imo. What houre is it? Lady. Almost midnight, Madam. Imo. I haue read three houres then:
[880]
Mine eyes are weake, Fold downe the leafe where I haue left: to bed. Take not away the Taper, leaue it burning: And if thou canst awake by foure o'th'clock, I prythee call me: Sleepe hath ceiz'd me wholly.
[885]
To your protection I commend me, Gods, From Fayries, and the Tempters of the night, Guard me beseech yee.
Sleepes. Iachimo from the Trunke. Iach. The Crickets sing, and mans ore‑labor'd sense Repaires it selfe by rest: Our Tarquine thus
[890]
Did softly presse the Rushes, ere he waken'd The Chastitie he wounded. Cytherea, How brauely thou becom'st thy Bed; fresh Lilly, And whiter then the Sheetes: that I might touch, But kisse, one kisse. Rubies vnparagon'd,
[895]
How deerely they doo't: 'Tis her breathing that Perfumes the Chamber thus: the Flame o'th'Taper Bowes toward her, and would vnder‑peepe her lids. To see th'inclosed Lights, now Canopied Vnder these windowes, White and Azure lac'd
[900]
With Blew of Heauens owne tinct. But my designe. To note the Chamber, I will write all downe, Such, and such pictures: There the window, such Th'adornement of her Bed; the Arras, Figures, Why such, and such: and the Contents o'th'Story.
[905]
Ah, but some naturall notes about her Body, Aboue ten thousand meaner Moueables Would testifie, t'enrich mine Inuentorie. O sleepe, thou Ape of death, lye dull vpon her, And be her Sense but as a Monument,
[910]
Thus in a Chappell lying. Come off, come off; As slippery as the Gordian‑knot was hard. 'Tis mine, and this will witnesse outwardly, As strongly as the Conscience do's within: To'th'madding of her Lord. On her left brest
[915]
A mole Cinque‑spotted: Like the Crimson drops I'th'bottome of a Cowslippe. Heere's a Voucher, Stronger then euer Law could make; this Secret Will force him thinke I haue pick'd the lock, and t'ane The treasure of her Honour. No more: to what end?
[920]
Why should I write this downe, that's riueted, Screw'd to my memorie. She hath bin reading late, The Tale of Tereus, heere the leaffe's turn'd downe Where Philomele gaue vp. I haue enough, To'th'Truncke againe, and shut the spring of it.
[925]
Swift, swift, you Dragons of the night, that dawning May beare the Rauens eye: I lodge in feare, Though this a heauenly Angell: hell is heere. Clocke strikes One, two, three: time, time.
Exit.
 

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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="2">
   <head rend="italic center">Scena Secunda.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 2, Scene 2]</head>
   <stage rend="center" type="entrance">Enter Imogen, in her Bed, and a Lady.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="875">Who's there? My woman:<hi rend="italic">Helene</hi>?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lad">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <l n="876">Please you Madam.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="877">What houre is it?</l>
   </sp>
   <cb n="2"/>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lad">
      <speaker rend="italic">Lady.</speaker>
      <l n="878">Almost midnight, Madam.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="879">I haue read three houres then:</l>
      <l n="880">Mine eyes are weake,</l>
      <l n="881">Fold downe the leafe where I haue left: to bed.</l>
      <l n="882">Take not away the Taper, leaue it burning:</l>
      <l n="883">And if thou canst awake by foure o'th'clock,</l>
      <l n="884">I prythee call me: Sleepe hath ceiz'd me wholly.</l>
      <l n="885">To your protection I commend me, Gods,</l>
      <l n="886">From Fayries, and the Tempters of the night,</l>
      <l n="887">Guard me beseech yee.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Sleepes.</stage>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Iachimo from the Trunke.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-iac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iach.</speaker>
      <l n="888">The Crickets sing, and mans ore‑labor'd sense</l>
      <l n="889">Repaires it selfe by rest: Our<hi rend="italic">Tarquine</hi>thus</l>
      <l n="890">Did softly presse the Rushes, ere he waken'd</l>
      <l n="891">The Chastitie he wounded.<hi rend="italic">Cytherea</hi>,</l>
      <l n="892">How brauely thou becom'st thy Bed; fresh Lilly,</l>
      <l n="893">And whiter then the Sheetes: that I might touch,</l>
      <l n="894">But kisse, one kisse. Rubies vnparagon'd,</l>
      <l n="895">How deerely they doo't: 'Tis her breathing that</l>
      <l n="896">Perfumes the Chamber thus: the Flame o'th'Taper</l>
      <l n="897">Bowes toward her, and would vnder‑peepe her lids.</l>
      <l n="898">To see th'inclosed Lights, now Canopied</l>
      <l n="899">Vnder these windowes, White and Azure lac'd</l>
      <l n="900">With Blew of Heauens owne tinct. But my designe.</l>
      <l n="901">To note the Chamber, I will write all downe,</l>
      <l n="902">Such, and such pictures: There the window, such</l>
      <l n="903">Th'adornement of her Bed; the Arras, Figures,</l>
      <l n="904">Why such, and such: and the Contents o'th'Story.</l>
      <l n="905">Ah, but some naturall notes about her Body,</l>
      <l n="906">Aboue ten thousand meaner Moueables</l>
      <l n="907">Would testifie, t'enrich mine Inuentorie.</l>
      <l n="908">O sleepe, thou Ape of death, lye dull vpon her,</l>
      <l n="909">And be her Sense but as a Monument,</l>
      <l n="910">Thus in a Chappell lying. Come off, come off;</l>
      <l n="911">As slippery as the Gordian‑knot was hard.</l>
      <l n="912">'Tis mine, and this will witnesse outwardly,</l>
      <l n="913">As strongly as the Conscience do's within:</l>
      <l n="914">To'th'madding of her Lord. On her left brest</l>
      <l n="915">A mole Cinque‑spotted: Like the Crimson drops</l>
      <l n="916">I'th'bottome of a Cowslippe. Heere's a Voucher,</l>
      <l n="917">Stronger then euer Law could make; this Secret</l>
      <l n="918">Will force him thinke I haue pick'd the lock, and t'ane</l>
      <l n="919">The treasure of her Honour. No more: to what end?</l>
      <l n="920">Why should I write this downe, that's riueted,</l>
      <l n="921">Screw'd to my memorie. She hath bin reading late,</l>
      <l n="922">The Tale of<hi rend="italic">Tereus</hi>, heere the leaffe's turn'd downe</l>
      <l n="923">Where<hi rend="italic">Philomele</hi>gaue vp. I haue enough,</l>
      <l n="924">To'th'Truncke againe, and shut the spring of it.</l>
      <l n="925">Swift, swift, you Dragons of the night, that dawning</l>
      <l n="926">May beare the Rauens eye: I lodge in feare,</l>
      <l n="927">Though this a heauenly Angell: hell is heere.</l>
      <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Clocke strikes</stage>
      <l n="928">One, two, three: time, time.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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