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: aaa3r - Tragedies, p. 381

Left Column


The Tragedie of Cymbeline.
[1420]
Is falne into thy eare? What false Italian, (As poysonous tongu'd, as handed) hath preuail'd On thy too ready hearing? Disloyall? No. She's punish'd for her Truth; and vndergoes More Goddesse‑like, then Wife‑like; such Assaults
[1425]
As would take in some Vertue. Oh my Master, Thy mind to her, is now as lowe, as were Thy Fortunes. How? That I should murther her, Vpon the Loue, and Truth, and Vowes; which I Haue made to thy command? I her? Her blood?
[1430]
If it be so, to do good seruice, neuer Let me be counted seruiceable. How looke I, That I should seeme to lacke humanity, So much as this Fact comes to? Doo't: The Letter. That I haue sent her, by her owne command,
[1435]
Shall giue thee opportunitie. Oh damn'd paper, Blacke as the Inke that's on thee: senselesse bauble, Art thou a Fœdarie for this Act; and look'st So Virgin‑like without? Loe here she comes. Enter Imogen. I am ignorant in what I am commanded.
Imo.
[1440]
How now Pisanio?
Pis. Madam, heere is a Letter from my Lord. Imo. Who, thy Lord? That is my Lord Leonatus? Oh, learn'd indeed were that Astronomer That knew the Starres, as I his Characters,
[1445]
Heel'd lay the Future open. You good Gods, Let what is heere contain'd, rellish of Loue, Of my Lords health, of his content: yet not That we two are asunder, let that grieue him; Some griefes are medcinable, that is one of them,
[1450]
For it doth physicke Loue, of his content, All but in that. Good Wax, thy leaue: blest be You Bees that make these Lockes of counsaile. Louers, And men in dangerous Bondes pray not alike, Though Forfeytours you cast in prison, yet
[1455]
You claspe young Cupids Tables: good Newes Gods.

IVstice and your Fathers wrath (should he take me in his

Dominion) could not be so cruell to me, as you: (oh the dee­

rest of Creatures) would euen renew me with your eyes. Take

notice that I am in Cambria at Milford‑Hauen: what your

[1460]

owne Loue, will out of this aduise you, follow. So he wishes you

all happinesse, that remaines loyall to his Vow, and your encrea­

sing in Loue.

Leonatus Posthumus.

Oh for a Horse with wings: Hear'st thou Pisanio?
[1465]
He is at Milford‑Hauen: Read, and tell me How farre 'tis thither. If one of meane affaires May plod it in a weeke, why may not I Glide thither in a day? Then true Pisanio, Who long'st like me, to see thy Lord; who long'st
[1470]
(Oh let me bate) but not like me: yet long'st But in a fainter kinde. Oh not like me: For mine's beyond, beyond: say, and speake thicke (Loues Counsailor should fill the bores of hearing, To'th'smothering of the Sense) how farre it is
[1475]
To this same blessed Milford. And by'th'way Tell me how Wales was made so happy, as An ink mark follows the end of this line. T'inherite such a Hauen. But first of all, How we may steale from hence: and for the gap That we shall make in Time, from our hence‑going,
[1480]
And our returne, to excuse: but first, how get hence. Why should excuse be borne or ere begot? Weele talke of that heereafter. Prythee speake, How many store of Miles may we well rid

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Right Column


Twixt houre, and houre? Pis.
[1485]
One score 'twixt Sun, and Sun, Madam's enough for you: and too much too.
Imo. Why, one that rode to's Excution Man, Could neuer go so slow: I haue heard of Riding wagers, Where Horses haue bin nimbler then the Sands
[1490]
That run i'th'Clocks behalfe. But this is Foolrie, Go, bid my Woman faigne a Sicknesse, say She'le home to her Father; and prouide me presently A Riding Suit: No costlier then would fit A Franklins Huswife.
Pisa.
[1495]
Madam, you're best consider.
Imo. I see before me (Man) nor heere, nor heere; Nor what ensues but haue a Fog in them That I cannot looke through. Away, I prythee, Do as I bid thee: There's no more to say:
[1500]
Accessible is none but Milford way.
Exeunt.
Scena Tertia. [Act 3, Scene 3] Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Aruiragus. Bel. A goodly day, not to keepe house with such, Whose Roofe's as lowe as ours: Sleepe Boyes, this gate Instructs you how t'adore the Heauens; and bowes you To a mornings holy office. The Gates of Monarches
[1505]
Are Arch'd so high, that Giants may iet through And keepe their impious Turbonds on, without Good morrow to the Sun. Haile thou faire Heauen, We house i'th'Rocke, yet vse thee not so hardly As prouder liuers do.
Guid.
[1510]
Haile Heauen.
Aruir. Haile Heauen. Bela. Now for our Mountaine sport, vp to yond hill Your legges are yong: Ile tread these Flats. Consider, When you aboue perceiue me like a Crow,
[1515]
That it is Place, which lessen's, and sets off, And you may then reuolue what Tales, I haue told you, Of Courts, of Princes; of the Tricks in Warre. This Seruice, is not Seruice; so being done, But being so allowed. To apprehend thus,
[1520]
Drawes vs a profit from all things we see: And often to our comfort, shall we finde The sharded‑Beetle, in a safer hold Then is the full‑wing'd Eagle. Oh this life, Is Nobler, then attending for a checke:
[1525]
Richer, then doing nothing for a Babe: Prouder, then rustling in vnpayd‑for Silke: Such gaine the Cap of him, that makes him fine, Yet keepes his Booke vncros'd: no life to ours.
Gui. Out of your proofe you speak: we poore vnfledg'd
[1530]
Haue neuer wing'd from view o'th'nest; nor knowes not What Ayre's from home. Hap'ly this life is best, (If quiet life be best) sweeter to you That haue a sharper knowne. Well corresponding With your stiffe Age; but vnto vs, it is
[1535]
A Cell of Ignorance: trauailing a bed, A Prison, or a Debtor, that not dares To stride a limit.
Arui. What should we speake of When we are old as you? When we shall heare
[1540]
The Raine and winde beate darke December? How In this our pinching Caue, shall we discourse aaa3 The

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Scena Tertia. [Act 3, Scene 3] Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Aruiragus. Bel. A goodly day, not to keepe house with such, Whose Roofe's as lowe as ours: Sleepe Boyes, this gate Instructs you how t'adore the Heauens; and bowes you To a mornings holy office. The Gates of Monarches
[1505]
Are Arch'd so high, that Giants may iet through And keepe their impious Turbonds on, without Good morrow to the Sun. Haile thou faire Heauen, We house i'th'Rocke, yet vse thee not so hardly As prouder liuers do.
Guid.
[1510]
Haile Heauen.
Aruir. Haile Heauen. Bela. Now for our Mountaine sport, vp to yond hill Your legges are yong: Ile tread these Flats. Consider, When you aboue perceiue me like a Crow,
[1515]
That it is Place, which lessen's, and sets off, And you may then reuolue what Tales, I haue told you, Of Courts, of Princes; of the Tricks in Warre. This Seruice, is not Seruice; so being done, But being so allowed. To apprehend thus,
[1520]
Drawes vs a profit from all things we see: And often to our comfort, shall we finde The sharded‑Beetle, in a safer hold Then is the full‑wing'd Eagle. Oh this life, Is Nobler, then attending for a checke:
[1525]
Richer, then doing nothing for a Babe: Prouder, then rustling in vnpayd‑for Silke: Such gaine the Cap of him, that makes him fine, Yet keepes his Booke vncros'd: no life to ours.
Gui. Out of your proofe you speak: we poore vnfledg'd
[1530]
Haue neuer wing'd from view o'th'nest; nor knowes not What Ayre's from home. Hap'ly this life is best, (If quiet life be best) sweeter to you That haue a sharper knowne. Well corresponding With your stiffe Age; but vnto vs, it is
[1535]
A Cell of Ignorance: trauailing a bed, A Prison, or a Debtor, that not dares To stride a limit.
Arui. What should we speake of When we are old as you? When we shall heare
[1540]
The Raine and winde beate darke December? How In this our pinching Caue, shall we discourse The freezing houres away? We haue seene nothing: We are beastly; subtle as the Fox for prey, Like warlike as the Wolfe, for what we eate:
[1545]
Our Valour is to chace what flyes: Our Cage We make a Quire, as doth the prison'd Bird, And sing our Bondage freely.
Bel. How you speake. Did you but know the Citties Vsuries,
[1550]
And felt them knowingly: the Art o'th'Court, As hard to leaue, as keepe: whose top to climbe Is certaine falling: or so slipp'ry, that The feare's as bad as falling. The toyle o'th'Warre, A paine that onely seemes to seeke out danger
[1555]
I'th'name of Fame, and Honor, which dyes i'th'search, And hath as oft a sland'rous Epitaph, As Record of faire Act. Nay, many times Doth ill deserue, by doing well: what's worse Must curt'sie at the Censure. Oh Boyes, this Storie
[1560]
The World may reade in me: My bodie's mark'd With Roman Swords; and my report, was once First, with the best of Note. Cymbeline lou'd me, And when a Souldier was the Theame, my name Was not farre off: then was I as a Tree
[1565]
Whose boughes did bend with fruit. But in one night, A Storme, or Robbery (call it what you will) Shooke downe my mellow hangings: nay my Leaues, And left me bare to weather.
Gui. Vncertaine fauour. Bel.
[1570]
My fault being nothing (as I haue told you oft) But that two Villaines, whose false Oathes preuayl'd Before my perfect Honor, swore to Cymbeline, I was Confederate with the Romanes: so Followed my Banishment, and this twenty yeeres,
[1575]
This Rocke, and these Demesnes, haue bene my World, Where I haue liu'd at honest freedome, payed More pious debts to Heauen, then in all The fore‑end of my time. But, vp to'th'Mountaines, This is not Hunters Language; he that strikes
[1580]
The Venison first, shall be the Lord o'th'Feast, To him the other two shall minister, And we will feare no poyson, which attends In place of greater State: Ile meete you in the Valleyes. Exeunt.
[1585]
How hard it is to hide the sparkes of Nature? These Boyes know little they are Sonnes to'th'King, Nor Cymbeline dreames that they are aliue. They thinke they are mine, And though train'd vp thus meanely
[1590]
I'th'Caue, whereon the Bowe their thoughts do hit, The Roofes of Palaces, and Nature prompts them In simple and lowe things, to Prince it, much Beyond the tricke of others. This Paladour, The heyre of Cymbeline and Britaine, who
[1595]
The King his Father call'd Guiderius. Ioue, When on my three‑foot stoole I sit, and tell The warlike feats I haue done, his spirits flye out Into my Story: say thus mine Enemy fell, And thus I set my foote on's necke, euen then
[1600]
The Princely blood flowes in his Cheeke, he sweats, Straines his yong Nerues, and puts himselfe in posture That acts my words. The yonger Brother Cadwall, Once Aruiragus, in as like a figure Strikes life into my speech, and shewes much more
[1605]
His owne conceyuing. Hearke, the Game is rows'd, Oh Cymbeline, Heauen and my Conscience knowes Thou didd'st vniustly banish me: whereon At three, and two yeeres old, I stole these Babes, Thinking to barre thee of Succession, as
[1610]
Thou refts me of my Lands. Euriphile, Thou was't their Nurse, they took thee for their mother, And euery day do honor to her graue: My selfe Belarius, that am Mergan call'd They take for Naturall Father. The Game is vp.
Exit.
 

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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="3">
   <head rend="italic center">Scena Tertia.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 3, Scene 3]</head>
   <stage rend="center" type="entrance">Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Aruiragus.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="1501">A goodly day, not to keepe house with such,</l>
      <l n="1502">Whose Roofe's as lowe as ours: Sleepe Boyes, this gate</l>
      <l n="1503">Instructs you how t'adore the Heauens; and bowes you</l>
      <l n="1504">To a mornings holy office. The Gates of Monarches</l>
      <l n="1505">Are Arch'd so high, that Giants may iet through</l>
      <l n="1506">And keepe their impious Turbonds on, without</l>
      <l n="1507">Good morrow to the Sun. Haile thou faire Heauen,</l>
      <l n="1508">We house i'th'Rocke, yet vse thee not so hardly</l>
      <l n="1509">As prouder liuers do.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gui">
      <speaker rend="italic">Guid.</speaker>
      <l n="1510">Haile Heauen.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-arv">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aruir.</speaker>
      <l n="1511">Haile Heauen.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bela.</speaker>
      <l n="1512">Now for our Mountaine sport, vp to yond hill</l>
      <l n="1513">Your legges are yong: Ile tread these Flats. Consider,</l>
      <l n="1514">When you aboue perceiue me like a Crow,</l>
      <l n="1515">That it is Place, which lessen's, and sets off,</l>
      <l n="1516">And you may then reuolue what Tales, I haue told you,</l>
      <l n="1517">Of Courts, of Princes; of the Tricks in Warre.</l>
      <l n="1518">This Seruice, is not Seruice; so being done,</l>
      <l n="1519">But being so allowed. To apprehend thus,</l>
      <l n="1520">Drawes vs a profit from all things we see:</l>
      <l n="1521">And often to our comfort, shall we finde</l>
      <l n="1522">The sharded‑Beetle, in a safer hold</l>
      <l n="1523">Then is the full‑wing'd Eagle. Oh this life,</l>
      <l n="1524">Is Nobler, then attending for a checke:</l>
      <l n="1525">Richer, then doing nothing for a Babe:</l>
      <l n="1526">Prouder, then rustling in vnpayd‑for Silke:</l>
      <l n="1527">Such gaine the Cap of him, that makes him fine,</l>
      <l n="1528">Yet keepes his Booke vncros'd: no life to ours.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gui">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gui.</speaker>
      <l n="1529">Out of your proofe you speak: we poore vnfledg'd</l>
      <l n="1530">Haue neuer wing'd from view o'th'nest; nor knowes not</l>
      <l n="1531">What Ayre's from home. Hap'ly this life is best,</l>
      <l n="1532">(If quiet life be best) sweeter to you</l>
      <l n="1533">That haue a sharper knowne. Well corresponding</l>
      <l n="1534">With your stiffe Age; but vnto vs, it is</l>
      <l n="1535">A Cell of Ignorance: trauailing a bed,</l>
      <l n="1536">A Prison, or a Debtor, that not dares</l>
      <l n="1537">To stride a limit.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-arv">
      <speaker rend="italic">Arui.</speaker>
      <l n="1538">What should we speake of</l>
      <l n="1539">When we are old as you? When we shall heare</l>
      <l n="1540">The Raine and winde beate darke December? How</l>
      <l n="1541">In this our pinching Caue, shall we discourse</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0892-0.jpg" n="382"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="1542">The freezing houres away? We haue seene nothing:</l>
      <l n="1543">We are beastly; subtle as the Fox for prey,</l>
      <l n="1544">Like warlike as the Wolfe, for what we eate:</l>
      <l n="1545">Our Valour is to chace what flyes: Our Cage</l>
      <l n="1546">We make a Quire, as doth the prison'd Bird,</l>
      <l n="1547">And sing our Bondage freely.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="1548">How you speake.</l>
      <l n="1549">Did you but know the Citties Vsuries,</l>
      <l n="1550">And felt them knowingly: the Art o'th'Court,</l>
      <l n="1551">As hard to leaue, as keepe: whose top to climbe</l>
      <l n="1552">Is certaine falling: or so slipp'ry, that</l>
      <l n="1553">The feare's as bad as falling. The toyle o'th'Warre,</l>
      <l n="1554">A paine that onely seemes to seeke out danger</l>
      <l n="1555">I'th'name of Fame, and Honor, which dyes i'th'search,</l>
      <l n="1556">And hath as oft a sland'rous Epitaph,</l>
      <l n="1557">As Record of faire Act. Nay, many times</l>
      <l n="1558">Doth ill deserue, by doing well: what's worse</l>
      <l n="1559">Must curt'sie at the Censure. Oh Boyes, this Storie</l>
      <l n="1560">The World may reade in me: My bodie's mark'd</l>
      <l n="1561">With Roman Swords; and my report, was once</l>
      <l n="1562">First, with the best of Note.<hi rend="italic">Cymbeline</hi>lou'd me,</l>
      <l n="1563">And when a Souldier was the Theame, my name</l>
      <l n="1564">Was not farre off: then was I as a Tree</l>
      <l n="1565">Whose boughes did bend with fruit. But in one night,</l>
      <l n="1566">A Storme, or Robbery (call it what you will)</l>
      <l n="1567">Shooke downe my mellow hangings: nay my Leaues,</l>
      <l n="1568">And left me bare to weather.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gui">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gui.</speaker>
      <l n="1569">Vncertaine fauour.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="1570">My fault being nothing (as I haue told you oft)</l>
      <l n="1571">But that two Villaines, whose false Oathes preuayl'd</l>
      <l n="1572">Before my perfect Honor, swore to<hi rend="italic">Cymbeline</hi>,</l>
      <l n="1573">I was Confederate with the Romanes: so</l>
      <l n="1574">Followed my Banishment, and this twenty yeeres,</l>
      <l n="1575">This Rocke, and these Demesnes, haue bene my World,</l>
      <l n="1576">Where I haue liu'd at honest freedome, payed</l>
      <l n="1577">More pious debts to Heauen, then in all</l>
      <l n="1578">The fore‑end of my time. But, vp to'th'Mountaines,</l>
      <l n="1579">This is not Hunters Language; he that strikes</l>
      <l n="1580">The Venison first, shall be the Lord o'th'Feast,</l>
      <l n="1581">To him the other two shall minister,</l>
      <l n="1582">And we will feare no poyson, which attends</l>
      <l n="1583">In place of greater State:</l>
      <l n="1584">Ile meete you in the Valleyes.</l>
      <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
      <l n="1585">How hard it is to hide the sparkes of Nature?</l>
      <l n="1586">These Boyes know little they are Sonnes to'th'King,</l>
      <l n="1587">Nor<hi rend="italic">Cymbeline</hi>dreames that they are aliue.</l>
      <l n="1588">They thinke they are mine,</l>
      <l n="1589">And though train'd vp thus meanely</l>
      <l n="1590">I'th'Caue, whereon the Bowe their thoughts do hit,</l>
      <l n="1591">The Roofes of Palaces, and Nature prompts them</l>
      <l n="1592">In simple and lowe things, to Prince it, much</l>
      <l n="1593">Beyond the tricke of others. This<hi rend="italic">Paladour</hi>,</l>
      <l n="1594">The heyre of<hi rend="italic">Cymbeline</hi>and Britaine, who</l>
      <l n="1595">The King his Father call'd<hi rend="italic">Guiderius</hi>. Ioue,</l>
      <l n="1596">When on my three‑foot stoole I sit, and tell</l>
      <l n="1597">The warlike feats I haue done, his spirits flye out</l>
      <l n="1598">Into my Story: say thus mine Enemy fell,</l>
      <l n="1599">And thus I set my foote on's necke, euen then</l>
      <l n="1600">The Princely blood flowes in his Cheeke, he sweats,</l>
      <l n="1601">Straines his yong Nerues, and puts himselfe in posture</l>
      <l n="1602">That acts my words. The yonger Brother<hi rend="italic">Cadwall</hi>,</l>
      <l n="1603">Once<hi rend="italic">Aruiragus</hi>, in as like a figure</l>
      <l n="1604">Strikes life into my speech, and shewes much more</l>
      <l n="1605">His owne conceyuing. Hearke, the Game is rows'd,</l>
      <l n="1606">Oh<hi rend="italic">Cymbeline</hi>, Heauen and my Conscience knowes</l>
      <l n="1607">Thou didd'st vniustly banish me: whereon</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="1608">At three, and two yeeres old, I stole these Babes,</l>
      <l n="1609">Thinking to barre thee of Succession, as</l>
      <l n="1610">Thou refts me of my Lands.<hi rend="italic">Euriphile</hi>,</l>
      <l n="1611">Thou was't their Nurse, they took thee for their mother,</l>
      <l n="1612">And euery day do honor to her graue:</l>
      <l n="1613">My selfe<hi rend="italic">Belarius</hi>, that am<hi rend="italic">Mergan</hi>call'd</l>
      <l n="1614">They take for Naturall Father. The Game is vp.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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