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: bbb3r - Tragedies, p. 393

Left Column


The Tragedie of Cymbeline. Lord. This was strange chance: A narrow Lane, an old man, and two Boyes. Post.
[2875]
Nay, do not wonder at it: you are made Rather to wonder at the things you heare, Then to worke any. Will you Rime vpon't, And vent it for a Mock'rie? Heere is one: “Two Boyes, an Oldman (twice a Boy) a Lane,
[2880]
“Preseru'd the Britaines, was the Romanes bane.
Lord. Nay, be not angry Sir. Post. Lacke, to what end? Who dares not stand his Foe, Ile be his Friend: For if hee'l do, as he is made to doo,
[2885]
I know hee'l quickly flye my friendship too. You haue put me into Rime.
Lord. Farewell, you're angry. Exit. Post. Still going? This is a Lord: Oh Noble misery To be i'th'Field, and aske what newes of me:
[2890]
To day, how many would haue giuen their Honours To haue sau'd their Carkasses? Tooke heele to doo't, And yet dyed too. I, in mine owne woe charm'd Could not finde death, where I did heare him groane, Nor feele him where he strooke. Being an vgly Monster,
[2895]
'Tis strange he hides him in fresh Cups, soft Beds, Sweet words; or hath moe ministers then we That draw his kniues i'th'War. Well I will finde him: For being now a Fauourer to the Britaine, No more a Britaine, I haue resum'd againe
[2900]
The part I came in. Fight I will no more, But yeeld me to the veriest Hinde, that shall Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is Heere made by'th'Romane; great the Answer be Britaines must take. For me, my Ransome's death,
[2905]
On eyther side I come to spend my breath; Which neyther heere Ile keepe, nor beare agen, But end it by some meanes for Imogen.
Enter two Captaines, and Soldiers. 1 Great Iupiter be prais'd, Lucius is taken, 'Tis thought the old man, and his sonnes, were Angels. 2
[2910]
There was a fourth man, in a silly habit, That gaue th'Affront with them.
1 So 'tis reported: But none of 'em can be found. Stand, who's there? Post. A Roman,
[2915]
Who had not now beene drooping heere, if Seconds Had answer'd him.
2 Lay hands on him: a Dogge, A legge of Rome shall not returne to tell What Crows haue peckt them here: he brags his seruice
[2920]
As if he were of note: bring him to'th'King.
Enter Cymbeline, Belarius, Guiderius, Aruiragus, Pisanio, and Romane Captiues. The Captaines present Posthumus to Cymbeline, who deliuers him ouer to a Gaoler.
Scena Quarta. [Act 5, Scene 4] Enter Posthumus, and Gaoler. Gao. You shall not now be stolne, You haue lockes vpon you: So graze, as you finde Pasture. 2. Gao. I, or a stomacke. Post.
[2925]
Most welcome bondage; for thou art a way (I thinke) to liberty: yet am I better Then one that's sicke o'th'Gowt, since he had rather

Right Column


Groane so in perpetuity, then be cur'd By'th'sure Physitian, Death; who is the key
[2930]
T'vnbarre these Lockes. My Conscience, thou art fetter'd More then my shanks, & wrists: you good Gods giue me The penitent Instrument to picke that Bolt, Then free for euer. Is't enough I am sorry? So Children temporall Fathers do appease;
[2935]
Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent, I cannot do it better then in Gyues, Desir'd, more then constrain'd, to satisfie If of my Freedome 'tis the maine part, take No stricter render of me, then my All.
[2940]
I know you are more clement then vilde men, Who of their broken Debtors take a third, A sixt, a tenth, letting them thriue againe On their abatement; that's not my desire. For Imogens deere life, take mine, and tho gh
[2945]
'Tis not so deere, yet 'tis a life; you coyn'd it, 'Tweene man, and man, they waigh not euery stampe: Though light, take Peeces for the figures sake, (You rather) mine being yours: and so great Powres, If you will take this Audit, take this life,
[2950]
And cancell these cold Bonds. Oh Imogen, Ile speake to thee in silence.
Solemne Musicke. Enter (as in an Apparation) Sicillius Leo­ natus, Father to Posthumus, an old man, attyred like a war­ riour, leading in his hand an ancient Matron (his wife, & Mother to Posthumus) with Musicke before them. Then after other Musicke, followes the two young Leonati (Bro­ thers to Posth mus) w th wounds as they died in the warrs. They circle Posthumus round as he lies sleeping. Sicil. No more thou Thunder‑Master shew thy spight, on Mortall Flies: With Mars fall out with Iuno chide, that thy Adulteries
[2955]
Rates, and Reuenges. Hath my poore Boy done ought but well, whose face I neuer saw: I dy'de whil'st in the Wombe he staide, attending Natures Law.
[2960]
Whose Father then (as men report, thou Orphanes Father art) Thou should'st haue bin, and sheelded him, from this earth‑vexing smart.
Moth. Lucina lent not me her ayde,
[2965]
but tooke me in my Throwes, That from me was Posthumus ript, came crying 'mong'st his Foes. A thing of pitty.
Sicil. Great Nature like his Ancestrie,
[2970]
moulded the stuffe so faire: That he d seru'd the praise o'th'World, as great Sicilius heyre.
1. Bro. When once he was mature for man, in Britaine where was hee
[2975]
That could stand vp his paralell? Or fruitfull obiect bee? In eye of Imogen, that best could deeme his dignitie.
Mo. With Marriage wherefore was he mockt to be exil'd, and throwne
[2980]
From Leonati Seate, and cast from her, his deerest one: Sweete Imogen?
Sic. Why did you suffer Iachimo, slight thing of Italy, bbb3 To

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Scena Quarta. [Act 5, Scene 4] Enter Posthumus, and Gaoler. Gao. You shall not now be stolne, You haue lockes vpon you: So graze, as you finde Pasture. 2. Gao. I, or a stomacke. Post.
[2925]
Most welcome bondage; for thou art a way (I thinke) to liberty: yet am I better Then one that's sicke o'th'Gowt, since he had rather Groane so in perpetuity, then be cur'd By'th'sure Physitian, Death; who is the key
[2930]
T'vnbarre these Lockes. My Conscience, thou art fetter'd More then my shanks, & wrists: you good Gods giue me The penitent Instrument to picke that Bolt, Then free for euer. Is't enough I am sorry? So Children temporall Fathers do appease;
[2935]
Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent, I cannot do it better then in Gyues, Desir'd, more then constrain'd, to satisfie If of my Freedome 'tis the maine part, take No stricter render of me, then my All.
[2940]
I know you are more clement then vilde men, Who of their broken Debtors take a third, A sixt, a tenth, letting them thriue againe On their abatement; that's not my desire. For Imogens deere life, take mine, and tho gh
[2945]
'Tis not so deere, yet 'tis a life; you coyn'd it, 'Tweene man, and man, they waigh not euery stampe: Though light, take Peeces for the figures sake, (You rather) mine being yours: and so great Powres, If you will take this Audit, take this life,
[2950]
And cancell these cold Bonds. Oh Imogen, Ile speake to thee in silence.
Solemne Musicke. Enter (as in an Apparation) Sicillius Leo­ natus, Father to Posthumus, an old man, attyred like a war­ riour, leading in his hand an ancient Matron (his wife, & Mother to Posthumus) with Musicke before them. Then after other Musicke, followes the two young Leonati (Bro­ thers to Posth mus) w th wounds as they died in the warrs. They circle Posthumus round as he lies sleeping. Sicil. No more thou Thunder‑Master shew thy spight, on Mortall Flies: With Mars fall out with Iuno chide, that thy Adulteries
[2955]
Rates, and Reuenges. Hath my poore Boy done ought but well, whose face I neuer saw: I dy'de whil'st in the Wombe he staide, attending Natures Law.
[2960]
Whose Father then (as men report, thou Orphanes Father art) Thou should'st haue bin, and sheelded him, from this earth‑vexing smart.
Moth. Lucina lent not me her ayde,
[2965]
but tooke me in my Throwes, That from me was Posthumus ript, came crying 'mong'st his Foes. A thing of pitty.
Sicil. Great Nature like his Ancestrie,
[2970]
moulded the stuffe so faire: That he d seru'd the praise o'th'World, as great Sicilius heyre.
1. Bro. When once he was mature for man, in Britaine where was hee
[2975]
That could stand vp his paralell? Or fruitfull obiect bee? In eye of Imogen, that best could deeme his dignitie.
Mo. With Marriage wherefore was he mockt to be exil'd, and throwne
[2980]
From Leonati Seate, and cast from her, his deerest one: Sweete Imogen?
Sic. Why did you suffer Iachimo, slight thing of Italy, To taint his Nobler hart & braine, with needlesse ielousy,
[2985]
And to become the geeke and scorne o'th'others vilany?
2 Bro. For this, from stiller Seats we came, our Parents, and vs twaine, That striking in our Countries cause, fell brauely, and were slaine,
[2990]
Our Fealty, & Tenantius right, with Honor to maintaine.
1 Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath to Cymbeline perform'd: Then Iupiter, y u King of Gods, why hast y u thus adiourn'd The Graces for his Merits due, being all to dolors turn'd? Sicil.
[2995]
Thy Christall window ope; looke, looke out, no longer exercise Vpon a valiant Race, thy harsh, and potent iniuries:
Moth. Since (Iupiter) our Son is good, take off his miseries. Sicil.
[3000]
Peepe through thy Marble Mansion, helpe, or we poore Ghosts will cry To'th'shining Synod of the rest, against thy Deity.
Brothers. Helpe (Iupiter) or we appeale, and from thy iustice flye. Iupiter descends in Thunder and Lightning, sitting vppon an Eagle: hee throwes a Thunder‑bolt. The Ghostes fall on their knees. Iupiter.
[3005]
No more you petty Spirits of Region low Offend our hearing: hush. How dare you Ghostes Accuse the Thunderer, whose Bolt (you know) Sky‑planted, batters all rebelling Coasts. Poore shadowes of Elizium, hence, and rest
[3010]
Vpon your neuer‑withering bankes of Flowres. Be not with mortall accidents opprest, No care of yours it is, you know 'tis ours. Whom best I loue, I crosse; to make my guift The more delay'd, delighted. Be content,
[3015]
Your low‑laide Sonne, our Godhead will vplift: His Comforts thriue, his Trials well are spent: Our Iouiall Starre reign'd at his Birth, and in Our Temple was he married: Rise, and fade, He shall be Lord of Lady Imogen,
[3020]
And happier much by his Affliction made. This Tablet lay vpon his Brest, wherein Our pleasure, his full Fortune, doth confine, And so away: no farther with your dinne Expresse Impatience, least you stirre vp mine:
[3025]
Mount Eagle, to my Palace Christalline.
Ascends Sicil. He came in Thunder, his Celestiall breath Was sulphurous to smell: the holy Eagle Stoop'd, as to foote vs: his Ascension is More sweet then our blest Fields: his Royall Bird
[3030]
Prunes the immortall wing, and cloyes his Beake, As when his God is pleas'd.
All. Thankes Iupiter. Sic. The Marble Pauement clozes, he is enter'd His radiant Roofe: Away, and to be blest
[3035]
Let vs with care performe his great behest.
Vanish Post. Sleepe, thou hast bin a Grandsire, and begot A Father to me: and thou hast created A Mother, and two Brothers. But (oh scorne) Gone, they went hence so soone as they were borne:
[3040]
And so I am awake. Poore Wretches, that depend On Greatnesse, Fauour; Dreame as I haue done, Wake, and finde nothing. But (alas) I swerue: Many Dreame not to finde, neither deserue, And yet are steep'd in Fauours; so am I
[3045]
That haue this Golden chance, and know not why: What Fayeries haunt this ground? A Book? Oh rare one, Be not, as is our fangled world, a Garment Nobler then that it couers. Let thy effects So follow, to be most vnlike our Courtiers,
[3050]
As good, as promise. Reades.

WHen as a Lyons whelpe, shall to himselfe vnknown, with­

out seeking finde, and bee embrac'd by a peece of tender

Ayre: And when from a stately Cedar shall be lopt branches,

which being dead many yeares, shall after reuiue, bee ioynted to

[3055]

the old Stocke, and freshly grow, then shall Posthumus end his

miseries, Britaine be fortunate, and flourish in Peace and Plen­

tie.

'Tis still a Dreame: or else such stuffe as Madmen Tongue, and braine not: either both, or nothing
[3060]
Or senselesse speaking, or a speaking such As sense cannot vntye. Be what it is, The Action of my life is like it, which Ile keepe If but for simpathy.
Enter Gaoler. Gao.

Come Sir, are you ready for death?

Post.
[3065]

Ouer‑roasted rather: ready long ago.

Gao.

Hanging is the word, Sir, if you bee readie for

that, you are well Cook'd.

Post.

So if I proue a good repast to the Spectators, the

dish payes the shot.

Gao.
[3070]

A heauy reckoning for you Sir: But the comfort

is you shall be called to no more payments, fear no more

Tauerne Bils, which are often the sadnesse of parting, as

the procuring of mirth: you come in faint for want of

meate, depart reeling with too much drinke: sorrie that

[3075]

you haue payed too much, and sorry that you are payed

too much: Purse and Braine, both empty: the Brain the

heauier, for being too light; the Purse too light, being

drawne of heauinesse. Oh, of this contradiction you shall

now be quit: Oh the charity of a penny Cord, it summes

[3080]

vp thousands in a trice: you haue no true Debitor, and

Creditor but it: of what's past, is, and to come, the dis­

charge: your necke (Sis) is Pen, Booke, and Counters; so

the Acquittance followes.

Post.

I am merrier to dye, then thou art to liue.

Gao.
[3085]

Indeed Sir, he that sleepes, feeles not the Tooth­

Ache: but a man that were to sleepe your sleepe, and a

Hangman to helpe him to bed, I think he would change

places with his Officer: for, look you Sir, you know not

which way you shall go.

Post.
[3090]

Yes indeed do I, fellow.

Gao.

Your death has eyes in's head then: I haue not

seene him so pictur'd: you must either bee directed by

some that take vpon them to know, or to take vpon your

selfe that which I am sure you do not know: or iump the

[3095]

after‑enquiry on your owne perill: and how you shall

speed in your iournies end, I thinke you'l neuer returne

to tell one.

Post.

I tell thee, Fellow, there are none want eyes, to

direct them the way I am going, but such as winke, and

[3100]

will not vse them.

Gao.

What an infinite mocke is this, that a man shold

haue the best vse of eyes, to see the way of blindnesse: I

am sure hanging's the way of winking.

Enter a Messenger. Mes.

Knocke off his Manacles, bring your Prisoner to

[3105]

the King.

Post.

Thou bring'st good newes, I am call'd to bee

made free.

Gao.

Ile be hang'd then.

Post.

Thou shalt be then freer then a Gaoler; no bolts

[3110]

for the dead.

Gao.

Vnlesse a man would marry a Gallowes, & be­

get yong Gibbets, I neuer saw one so prone: yet on my

Conscience, there are verier Knaues desire to liue, for all

he be a Roman; and there be some of them too that dye

[3115]

against their willes; so should I, if I were one. I would

we were all of one minde, and one minde good: O there

were desolation of Gaolers and Galowses: I speake a­

gainst my present profit, but my wish hath a preferment

in't.

Exeunt.
 

Download the digital text of the play

                                
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<div type="scene" n="4">
   <head rend="italic center">Scena Quarta.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 5, Scene 4]</head>
   <stage rend="center" type="entrance">Enter Posthumus, and Gaoler.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gao">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gao.</speaker>
      <l n="2921">You shall not now be stolne,</l>
      <l n="2922">You haue lockes vpon you:</l>
      <l n="2923">So graze, as you finde Pasture.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gao.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">2. Gao.</speaker>
      <l n="2924">I, or a stomacke.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <l n="2925">Most welcome bondage; for thou art a way</l>
      <l n="2926">(I thinke) to liberty: yet am I better</l>
      <l n="2927">Then one that's sicke o'th'Gowt, since he had rather</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="2928">Groane so in perpetuity, then be cur'd</l>
      <l n="2929">By'th'sure Physitian, Death; who is the key</l>
      <l n="2930">T'vnbarre these Lockes. My Conscience, thou art fetter'd</l>
      <l n="2931">More then my shanks, &amp; wrists: you good Gods giue me</l>
      <l n="2932">The penitent Instrument to picke that Bolt,</l>
      <l n="2933">Then free for euer. Is't enough I am sorry?</l>
      <l n="2934">So Children temporall Fathers do appease;</l>
      <l n="2935">Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent,</l>
      <l n="2936">I cannot do it better then in Gyues,</l>
      <l n="2937">Desir'd, more then constrain'd, to satisfie</l>
      <l n="2938">If of my Freedome 'tis the maine part, take</l>
      <l n="2939">No stricter render of me, then my All.</l>
      <l n="2940">I know you are more clement then vilde men,</l>
      <l n="2941">Who of their broken Debtors take a third,</l>
      <l n="2942">A sixt, a tenth, letting them thriue againe</l>
      <l n="2943">On their abatement; that's not my desire.</l>
      <l n="2944">For<hi rend="italic">Imogens</hi>deere life, take mine, and tho<gap extent="1"
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      <l n="2945">'Tis not so deere, yet 'tis a life; you coyn'd it,</l>
      <l n="2946">'Tweene man, and man, they waigh not euery stampe:</l>
      <l n="2947">Though light, take Peeces for the figures sake,</l>
      <l n="2948">(You rather) mine being yours: and so great Powres,</l>
      <l n="2949">If you will take this Audit, take this life,</l>
      <l n="2950">And cancell these cold Bonds. Oh<hi rend="italic">Imogen</hi>,</l>
      <l n="2951">Ile speake to thee in silence.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="mixed">Solemne Musicke. Enter (as in an Apparation) Sicillius Leo­
      <lb/>natus, Father to Posthumus, an old man, attyred like a war­
      <lb/>riour, leading in his hand an ancient Matron (his wife, &amp;
      <lb/>Mother to Posthumus) with Musicke before them. Then
      <lb/>after other Musicke, followes the two young Leonati (Bro­
      <lb/>thers to Posth<gap extent="1"
           unit="chars"
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           agent="inkBlot"
           resp="#ES"/>mus) w<gap extent="1"
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           reason="illegible"
           agent="uninkedType"
           resp="#ES"/>th wounds as they died in the warrs.
      <lb/>They circle Posthumus round as he lies sleeping.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Sicil.</speaker>
      <l n="2952">No more thou Thunder‑Master</l>
      <l n="2953">shew thy spight, on Mortall Flies:</l>
      <l n="2954">With Mars fall out with<hi rend="italic">Iuno</hi>chide, that thy Adulteries</l>
      <l n="2955">Rates, and Reuenges.</l>
      <l n="2956">Hath my poore Boy done ought but well,</l>
      <l n="2957">whose face I neuer saw:</l>
      <l n="2958">I dy'de whil'st in the Wombe he staide,</l>
      <l n="2959">attending Natures Law.</l>
      <l n="2960">Whose Father then (as men report,</l>
      <l n="2961">thou Orphanes Father art)</l>
      <l n="2962">Thou should'st haue bin, and sheelded him,</l>
      <l n="2963">from this earth‑vexing smart.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-mot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Moth.</speaker>
      <l n="2964">
         <hi rend="italic">Lucina</hi>lent not me her ayde,</l>
      <l n="2965">but tooke me in my Throwes,</l>
      <l n="2966">That from me was<hi rend="italic">Posthumus</hi>ript,</l>
      <l n="2967">came crying 'mong'st his Foes.</l>
      <l n="2968">A thing of pitty.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Sicil.</speaker>
      <l n="2969">Great Nature like his Ancestrie,</l>
      <l n="2970">moulded the stuffe so faire:</l>
      <l n="2971">That he d<gap extent="1"
              unit="chars"
              reason="illegible"
              agent="uninkedType"
              resp="#ES"/>seru'd the praise o'th'World,</l>
      <l n="2972">as great<hi rend="italic">Sicilius</hi>heyre.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bro.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">1. Bro.</speaker>
      <l n="2973">When once he was mature for man,</l>
      <l n="2974">in Britaine where was hee</l>
      <l n="2975">That could stand vp his paralell?</l>
      <l n="2976">Or fruitfull obiect bee?</l>
      <l n="2977">In eye of<hi rend="italic">Imogen</hi>, that best could deeme</l>
      <l n="2978">his dignitie.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-mot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mo.</speaker>
      <l n="2979">With Marriage wherefore was he mockt
      <lb/>to be exil'd, and throwne</l>
      <l n="2980">From<hi rend="italic">Leonati</hi>Seate, and cast from her,</l>
      <l n="2981">his deerest one:</l>
      <l n="2982">Sweete<hi rend="italic">Imogen</hi>?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Sic.</speaker>
      <l n="2983">Why did you suffer<hi rend="italic">Iachimo</hi>, slight thing of Italy,</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0904-0.jpg" n="394"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="2984">To taint his Nobler hart &amp; braine, with needlesse ielousy,</l>
      <l n="2985">And to become the geeke and scorne o'th'others vilany?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bro.2">
      <speaker rend="italic">2 Bro.</speaker>
      <l n="2986">For this, from stiller Seats we came,</l>
      <l n="2987">our Parents, and vs twaine,</l>
      <l n="2988">That striking in our Countries cause,</l>
      <l n="2989">fell brauely, and were slaine,</l>
      <l n="2990">Our Fealty, &amp;<hi rend="italic">Tenantius</hi>right, with Honor to maintaine.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bro.1">
      <speaker rend="italic">1 Bro.</speaker>
      <l n="2991">Like hardiment<hi rend="italic">Posthumus</hi>hath</l>
      <l n="2992">to<hi rend="italic">Cymbeline</hi>perform'd:</l>
      <l n="2993">Then Iupiter, y<c rend="superscript">u</c>King of Gods, why hast y<c rend="superscript">u</c>thus adiourn'd</l>
      <l n="2994">The Graces for his Merits due, being all to dolors turn'd?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Sicil.</speaker>
      <l n="2995">Thy Christall window ope; looke,</l>
      <l n="2996">looke out, no longer exercise</l>
      <l n="2997">Vpon a valiant Race, thy harsh, and potent iniuries:</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-mot">
      <speaker rend="italic">Moth.</speaker>
      <l n="2998">Since (Iupiter) our Son is good,</l>
      <l n="2999">take off his miseries.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Sicil.</speaker>
      <l n="3000">Peepe through thy Marble Mansion, helpe,</l>
      <l n="3001">or we poore Ghosts will cry</l>
      <l n="3002">To'th'shining Synod of the rest, against thy Deity.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-brs">
      <speaker rend="italic">Brothers.</speaker>
      <l n="3003">Helpe (Iupiter) or we appeale,</l>
      <l n="3004">and from thy iustice flye.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="business">Iupiter descends in Thunder and Lightning, sitting vppon an
      <lb/>Eagle: hee throwes a Thunder‑bolt. The Ghostes fall on
      <lb/>their knees.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-jup">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iupiter.</speaker>
      <l n="3005">No more you petty Spirits of Region low</l>
      <l n="3006">Offend our hearing: hush. How dare you Ghostes</l>
      <l n="3007">Accuse the Thunderer, whose Bolt (you know)</l>
      <l n="3008">Sky‑planted, batters all rebelling Coasts.</l>
      <l n="3009">Poore shadowes of Elizium, hence, and rest</l>
      <l n="3010">Vpon your neuer‑withering bankes of Flowres.</l>
      <l n="3011">Be not with mortall accidents opprest,</l>
      <l n="3012">No care of yours it is, you know 'tis ours.</l>
      <l n="3013">Whom best I loue, I crosse; to make my guift</l>
      <l n="3014">The more delay'd, delighted. Be content,</l>
      <l n="3015">Your low‑laide Sonne, our Godhead will vplift:</l>
      <l n="3016">His Comforts thriue, his Trials well are spent:</l>
      <l n="3017">Our Iouiall Starre reign'd at his Birth, and in</l>
      <l n="3018">Our Temple was he married: Rise, and fade,</l>
      <l n="3019">He shall be Lord of Lady<hi rend="italic">Imogen</hi>,</l>
      <l n="3020">And happier much by his Affliction made.</l>
      <l n="3021">This Tablet lay vpon his Brest, wherein</l>
      <l n="3022">Our pleasure, his full Fortune, doth confine,</l>
      <l n="3023">And so away: no farther with your dinne</l>
      <l n="3024">Expresse Impatience, least you stirre vp mine:</l>
      <l n="3025">Mount Eagle, to my Palace Christalline.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Ascends</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Sicil.</speaker>
      <l n="3026">He came in Thunder, his Celestiall breath</l>
      <l n="3027">Was sulphurous to smell: the holy Eagle</l>
      <l n="3028">Stoop'd, as to foote vs: his Ascension is</l>
      <l n="3029">More sweet then our blest Fields: his Royall Bird</l>
      <l n="3030">Prunes the immortall wing, and cloyes his Beake,</l>
      <l n="3031">As when his God is pleas'd.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-all">
      <speaker rend="italic">All.</speaker>
      <l n="3032">Thankes Iupiter.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-sic">
      <speaker rend="italic">Sic.</speaker>
      <l n="3033">The Marble Pauement clozes, he is enter'd</l>
      <l n="3034">His radiant Roofe: Away, and to be blest</l>
      <l n="3035">Let vs with care performe his great behest.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Vanish</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <l n="3036">Sleepe, thou hast bin a Grandsire, and begot</l>
      <l n="3037">A Father to me: and thou hast created</l>
      <l n="3038">A Mother, and two Brothers. But (oh scorne)</l>
      <l n="3039">Gone, they went hence so soone as they were borne:</l>
      <l n="3040">And so I am awake. Poore Wretches, that depend</l>
      <l n="3041">On Greatnesse, Fauour; Dreame as I haue done,</l>
      <l n="3042">Wake, and finde nothing. But (alas) I swerue:</l>
      <l n="3043">Many Dreame not to finde, neither deserue,</l>
      <l n="3044">And yet are steep'd in Fauours; so am I</l>
      <l n="3045">That haue this Golden chance, and know not why:</l>
      <l n="3046">What Fayeries haunt this ground? A Book? Oh rare one,</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="3047">Be not, as is our fangled world, a Garment</l>
      <l n="3048">Nobler then that it couers. Let thy effects</l>
      <l n="3049">So follow, to be most vnlike our Courtiers,</l>
      <l n="3050">As good, as promise.</l>
      <stage rend="italic center" type="business">Reades.</stage>
      <p rend="italic" n="3051">
         <c rend="droppedCapital">W</c>Hen as a Lyons whelpe, shall to himselfe vnknown, with­
      <lb n="3052"/>out seeking finde, and bee embrac'd by a peece of tender
      <lb n="3053"/>Ayre: And when from a stately Cedar shall be lopt branches,
      <lb n="3054"/>which being dead many yeares, shall after reuiue, bee ioynted to
      <lb n="3055"/>the old Stocke, and freshly grow, then shall Posthumus end his
      <lb n="3056"/>miseries, Britaine be fortunate, and flourish in Peace and Plen­
      <lb n="3057"/>tie.</p>
      <l n="3058">'Tis still a Dreame: or else such stuffe as Madmen</l>
      <l n="3059">Tongue, and braine not: either both, or nothing</l>
      <l n="3060">Or senselesse speaking, or a speaking such</l>
      <l n="3061">As sense cannot vntye. Be what it is,</l>
      <l n="3062">The Action of my life is like it, which Ile keepe</l>
      <l n="3063">If but for simpathy.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Gaoler.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gao">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gao.</speaker>
      <p n="3064">Come Sir, are you ready for death?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <p n="3065">Ouer‑roasted rather: ready long ago.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gao">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gao.</speaker>
      <p n="3066">Hanging is the word, Sir, if you bee readie for
      <lb n="3067"/>that, you are well Cook'd.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <p n="3068">So if I proue a good repast to the Spectators, the
      <lb n="3069"/>dish payes the shot.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gao">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gao.</speaker>
      <p n="3070">A heauy reckoning for you Sir: But the comfort
      <lb n="3071"/>is you shall be called to no more payments, fear no more
      <lb n="3072"/>Tauerne Bils, which are often the sadnesse of parting, as
      <lb n="3073"/>the procuring of mirth: you come in faint for want of
      <lb n="3074"/>meate, depart reeling with too much drinke: sorrie that
      <lb n="3075"/>you haue payed too much, and sorry that you are payed
      <lb n="3076"/>too much: Purse and Braine, both empty: the Brain the
      <lb n="3077"/>heauier, for being too light; the Purse too light, being
      <lb n="3078"/>drawne of heauinesse. Oh, of this contradiction you shall
      <lb n="3079"/>now be quit: Oh the charity of a penny Cord, it summes
      <lb n="3080"/>vp thousands in a trice: you haue no true Debitor, and
      <lb n="3081"/>Creditor but it: of what's past, is, and to come, the dis­
      <lb n="3082"/>charge: your necke (Sis) is Pen, Booke, and Counters; so
      <lb n="3083"/>the Acquittance followes.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <p n="3084">I am merrier to dye, then thou art to liue.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gao">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gao.</speaker>
      <p n="3085">Indeed Sir, he that sleepes, feeles not the Tooth­
      <lb n="3086"/>Ache: but a man that were to sleepe your sleepe, and a
      <lb n="3087"/>Hangman to helpe him to bed, I think he would change
      <lb n="3088"/>places with his Officer: for, look you Sir, you know not
      <lb n="3089"/>which way you shall go.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <p n="3090">Yes indeed do I, fellow.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gao">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gao.</speaker>
      <p n="3091">Your death has eyes in's head then: I haue not
      <lb n="3092"/>seene him so pictur'd: you must either bee directed by
      <lb n="3093"/>some that take vpon them to know, or to take vpon your
      <lb n="3094"/>selfe that which I am sure you do not know: or iump the
      <lb n="3095"/>after‑enquiry on your owne perill: and how you shall
      <lb n="3096"/>speed in your iournies end, I thinke you'l neuer returne
      <lb n="3097"/>to tell one.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <p n="3098">I tell thee, Fellow, there are none want eyes, to
      <lb n="3099"/>direct them the way I am going, but such as winke, and
      <lb n="3100"/>will not vse them.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gao">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gao.</speaker>
      <p n="3101">What an infinite mocke is this, that a man shold
      <lb n="3102"/>haue the best vse of eyes, to see the way of blindnesse: I
      <lb n="3103"/>am sure hanging's the way of winking.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter a Messenger.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-mes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mes.</speaker>
      <p n="3104">Knocke off his Manacles, bring your Prisoner to
      <lb n="3105"/>the King.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <p n="3106">Thou bring'st good newes, I am call'd to bee
      <lb n="3107"/>made free.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gao">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gao.</speaker>
      <p n="3108">Ile be hang'd then.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <p n="3109">Thou shalt be then freer then a Gaoler; no bolts<pb facs="FFimg:axc0905-0.jpg" n="395"/>
         <cb n="1"/>
         
      <lb n="3110"/>for the dead.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gao">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gao.</speaker>
      <p n="3111">Vnlesse a man would marry a Gallowes, &amp; be­
      <lb n="3112"/>get yong Gibbets, I neuer saw one so prone: yet on my
      <lb n="3113"/>Conscience, there are verier Knaues desire to liue, for all
      <lb n="3114"/>he be a Roman; and there be some of them too that dye
      <lb n="3115"/>against their willes; so should I, if I were one. I would
      <lb n="3116"/>we were all of one minde, and one minde good: O there
      <lb n="3117"/>were desolation of Gaolers and Galowses: I speake a­
      <lb n="3118"/>gainst my present profit, but my wish hath a preferment
      <lb n="3119"/>in't.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
</div>

                                
                            

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