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: aaa5r - Tragedies, p. 385

Left Column


The Tragedie of Cymbeline. Then Lady, Ladies, Woman, from euery one The best she hath, and she of all compounded Out‑selles them all. I loue her therefore, but
[1920]
Disdaining me, and throwing Fauours on The low Posthumus, slanders so her iudgement, That what's else rare, is choak'd: and in that point I will conclude to hate her, nay indeede, To be reueng'd vpon her. For, when Fooles shall— Enter Pisanio.
[1925]
Who is heere? What, are you packing sirrah? Come hither: Ah you precious Pandar, Villaine, Where is thy Lady? In a word, or else Thou art straightway with the Fiends.
Pis. Oh, good my Lord. Clo.
[1930]
Where is thy Lady? Or, by Iupiter, I will not aske againe. Close Villaine, Ile haue this Secret from thy heart, or rip Thy heart to finde it. Is she with Posthumus? From whose so many waights of basenesse, cannot
[1935]
A dram of worth be drawne.
Pis. Alas, nay Lord, How can she be with him ? When was she miss'd? He is in Rome. Clot. Where is she Sir? Come neerer:
[1940]
No farther halting: satisfie me home, What is become of her?
Pis. Oh, my all‑worthy Lord. Clo. All‑worthy Villaine, Discouer where thy Mistris is, at once,
[1945]
At the next word: no more of worthy Lord: Speake, or thy silence on the instant, is Thy condemnation, and thy death.
Pis. Then Sir: This Paper is the historie of my knowledge
[1950]
Touching her flight.
Clo. Let's see't: I will pursue her Euen to Augustus Throne. Pis. Or this, or perish. She's farre enough, and what he learnes by this,
[1955]
May proue his trauell, not her danger.
Clo. Humh. Pis. Ile write to my Lord she's dead: Oh Imogen, Safe mayst thou wander, safe returne agen. Clot. Sirra, is this Letter true? Pis.
[1960]
Sir, as I thinke.
Clot.

It is Posthumus hand, I know't. Sirrah, if thou

would'st not be a Villain, but do me true seruice: vnder­

go those Imployments wherin I should haue cause to vse

thee with a serious industry, that is, what villainy soere I

[1965]

bid thee do to performe it, directly and truely, I would

thinke thee an honest man: thou should'st neither want

my meanes for thy releefe, nor my voyce for thy prefer­

ment.

Pis.

Well, my good Lord.

Clot.
[1970]

Wilt thou serue mee? For since patiently and

constantly thou hast stucke to the bare Fortune of that

Begger Posthumus, thou canst not in the course of grati­

tude, but be a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou serue

mee?

Pis.
[1975]

Sir, I will.

Clo.

Giue mee thy hand, heere's my purse. Hast any

of thy late Masters Garments in thy possession?

Pisan.

I haue (my Lord) at my Lodging, the same

Suite he wore, when he tooke leaue of my Ladie & Mi­

[1980]

stresse.

Clo.

The first seruice thou dost mee, fetch that Suite

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Right Column


hither, let it be thy first seruice, go.

Pis.

I shall my Lord.

Exit. Clo.

Meet thee at Milford‑Hauen: (I forgot to aske

[1985]

him one thing, Ile remember't anon:) euen there, thou

villaine Posthumus will I kill thee. I would these Gar­

ments were come. She saide vpon a time (the bitternesse

of it, I now belch from my heart) that shee held the very

Garment of Posthumus, in more respect, then my Noble

[1990]

and naturall person; together with the adornement of

my Qualities. With that Suite vpon my backe wil I ra­

uish her: first kill him, and in her eyes; there shall she see

my valour, which wil then be a torment to hir contempt.

He on the ground, my speech of insulment ended on his

[1995]

dead bodie, and when my Lust hath dined (which, as I

say, to vex her, I will execute in the Cloathes that she so

prais'd:) to the Court Ile knock her backe, foot her home

againe. She hath despis'd mee reioycingly, and Ile bee

merry in my Reuenge.

Enter Pisanio.
[2000]

Be those the Garments?

Pis.

I, my Noble Lord.

Clo.

How long is't since she went to Milford‑Hauen?

Pis.

She can scarse be there yet.

Clo.

Bring this Apparrell to my Chamber, that is

[2005]

the second thing that I haue commanded thee. The third

is, that thou wilt be a voluntarie Mute to my designe. Be

but dutious, and true preferment shall tender it selfe to

thee. My Reuenge is now at Milford, would I had wings

to follow it. Come, and be true.

Exit. Pis.
[2010]
Thou bid'st me to my losse: for true to thee, Were to proue false, which I will neuer bee To him that is most true. To Milford go, And finde not her, whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow You Heauenly blessings on her: This Fooles speede
[2015]
Be crost with slownesse; Labour be his meede.
Exit
Scena Sexta. [Act 3, Scene 6] Enter Imogen alone. Imo. I see a mans life is a tedious one, I haue tyr'd my selfe: and for two nights together Haue made the ground my bed. I should be sicke, But that my resolution helpes me: Milford,
[2020]
When from the Mountaine top, Pisanio shew'd thee, Thou was't within a kenne. Oh Ioue, I thinke Foundations flye the wretched: such I meane, Where they should be releeu'd. Two Beggers told me, I could not misse my way. Will poore Folkes lye
[2025]
That haue Afflictions on them, knowing 'tis A punishment, or Triall ? Yes; no wonder, When Rich‑ones scarse tell true. To lapse in Fulnesse Is sorer, then to lye for Neede: and Falshood Is worse in Kings, then Beggers. My deere Lord,
[2030]
Thou art one o'th'false Ones: Now I thinke on thee, My hunger's gone; but eE3Auen before, I was At point to sinke, for Food. But what is this? Heere is a path too't: 'tis some sauage hold: I were best not call; I dare not call: yet Famine
[2035]
Ere cleane it o're‑throw Nature, makes it valiant. Plentie, and Peace breeds Cowards: Hardnesse euer Of Hardinesse is Mother. Hoa? who's heere? If any thing that's ciuill, speake: if sauage, Take,

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Scena Sexta. [Act 3, Scene 6] Enter Imogen alone. Imo. I see a mans life is a tedious one, I haue tyr'd my selfe: and for two nights together Haue made the ground my bed. I should be sicke, But that my resolution helpes me: Milford,
[2020]
When from the Mountaine top, Pisanio shew'd thee, Thou was't within a kenne. Oh Ioue, I thinke Foundations flye the wretched: such I meane, Where they should be releeu'd. Two Beggers told me, I could not misse my way. Will poore Folkes lye
[2025]
That haue Afflictions on them, knowing 'tis A punishment, or Triall ? Yes; no wonder, When Rich‑ones scarse tell true. To lapse in Fulnesse Is sorer, then to lye for Neede: and Falshood Is worse in Kings, then Beggers. My deere Lord,
[2030]
Thou art one o'th'false Ones: Now I thinke on thee, My hunger's gone; but eE3Auen before, I was At point to sinke, for Food. But what is this? Heere is a path too't: 'tis some sauage hold: I were best not call; I dare not call: yet Famine
[2035]
Ere cleane it o're‑throw Nature, makes it valiant. Plentie, and Peace breeds Cowards: Hardnesse euer Of Hardinesse is Mother. Hoa? who's heere? If any thing that's ciuill, speake: if sauage, Take, or lend. Hoa? No answer ? Then Ile enter.
[2040]
Best draw my Sword; and if mine Enemy But feare the Sword like me, hee'l scarsely looke on't. Such a Foe, good Heauens.
Exit.
 

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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="6">
   <head rend="italic center">Scena Sexta.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 3, Scene 6]</head>
   <stage rend="center" type="entrance">Enter Imogen alone.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="2016">I see a mans life is a tedious one,</l>
      <l n="2017">I haue tyr'd my selfe: and for two nights together</l>
      <l n="2018">Haue made the ground my bed. I should be sicke,</l>
      <l n="2019">But that my resolution helpes me: Milford,</l>
      <l n="2020">When from the Mountaine top,<hi rend="italic">Pisanio</hi>shew'd thee,</l>
      <l n="2021">Thou was't within a kenne. Oh Ioue, I thinke</l>
      <l n="2022">Foundations flye the wretched: such I meane,</l>
      <l n="2023">Where they should be releeu'd. Two Beggers told me,</l>
      <l n="2024">I could not misse my way. Will poore Folkes lye</l>
      <l n="2025">That haue Afflictions on them, knowing 'tis</l>
      <l n="2026">A punishment, or Triall<c rend="italic">?</c>Yes; no wonder,</l>
      <l n="2027">When Rich‑ones scarse tell true. To lapse in Fulnesse</l>
      <l n="2028">Is sorer, then to lye for Neede: and Falshood</l>
      <l n="2029">Is worse in Kings, then Beggers. My deere Lord,</l>
      <l n="2030">Thou art one o'th'false Ones: Now I thinke on thee,</l>
      <l n="2031">My hunger's gone; but eE3Auen before, I was</l>
      <l n="2032">At point to sinke, for Food. But what is this?</l>
      <l n="2033">Heere is a path too't: 'tis some sauage hold:</l>
      <l n="2034">I were best not call; I dare not call: yet Famine</l>
      <l n="2035">Ere cleane it o're‑throw Nature, makes it valiant.</l>
      <l n="2036">Plentie, and Peace breeds Cowards: Hardnesse euer</l>
      <l n="2037">Of Hardinesse is Mother. Hoa? who's heere?</l>
      <l n="2038">If any thing that's ciuill, speake: if sauage,</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0896-0.jpg" n="386"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="2039">Take, or lend. Hoa? No answer<c rend="italic">?</c>Then Ile enter.</l>
      <l n="2040">Best draw my Sword; and if mine Enemy</l>
      <l n="2041">But feare the Sword like me, hee'l scarsely looke on't.</l>
      <l n="2042">Such a Foe, good Heauens.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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