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: bbb4r - Tragedies, p. 395

Left Column


The Tragedie of Cymbeline.

[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.
Scena Quinta. [Act 5, Scene 5] Enter Cymbeline, Bellarius, Guiderius, Arui­ ragus, Pisanio, and Lords. Cym.
[3120]
Stand by my side you, whom the Gods haue made Preseruers of my Throne: woe is my heart, That the poore Souldier that so richly fought, Whose ragges, sham'd gilded Armes, whose naked brest Stept before Targes of proofe, cannot be found:
[3125]
He shall be happy that can finde him, if Our Grace can make him so.
Bel. I neuer saw Such Noble fury in so poore a Thing; Such precious deeds, in one that promist nought
[3130]
But beggery, and poore lookes.
Cym. No tydings of him? Pisa. He hath bin search'd among the dead, & liuing; But no trace of him. Cym. To my greefe, I am
[3135]
The heyre of his Reward, which I will adde To you (the Liuer, Heart, and Braine of Britaine) By whom (I grant) she liues. 'Tis now the time To aske of whence you are. Report it.
Bel. Sir,
[3140]
In Cambria are we borne, and Gentlemen: Further to boast, were neyther true, nor modest, Vnlesse I adde, we are honest.
Cym. Bow your knees: Arise my Knights o'th'Battell, I create you
[3145]
Companions to our person, and will fit you With Dignities becomming your estates. Enter Cornelius and Ladies. There's businesse in these faces: why so sadly Greet you our Victory? you looke like Romaines, And not o'th'Court of Britaine.
Corn.
[3150]
Hayle great King, To sowre your happinesse, I must report The Queene is dead.
Cym. Who worse then a Physitian Would this report become? But I consider,
[3155]
By Med'cine life may be prolong'd, yet death Will seize the Doctor too. How ended she?
Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life, Which (being cruell to the world) concluded Most cruell to her selfe. What she confest,
[3160]
I will report, so please you. These her Women Can trip me, if I erre, who with wet cheekes Were present when she finish'd.
Cym. Prythee say. Cor. First, she confest she neuer lou'd you: onely
[3165]
Affected Greatnesse got by you: not you: Married your Royalty, was wife to your place:

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[full image]

Right Column


Abhorr'd your person. Cym. She alone knew this: And but she spoke it dying, I would not
[3170]
Beleeue her lips in opening it. Proceed.
Corn. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to loue With such integrity, she did confesse Was as a Scorpion to her sight, whose life (But that her flight preuented it) she had
[3175]
Tane off by poison.
Cym. O most delicate Fiend! Who is't can reade a Woman? Is there more ? Corn. More Sir, and worse. She did confesse she had For you a mortall Minerall, which being tooke,
[3180]
Should by the minute feede on life, and ling'ring, By inches waste you. In which time, she purpos'd By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to Orecome you with her shew; and in time (When she had fitted you with her craft, to worke
[3185]
Her Sonne into th'adoption of the Crowne: But fayling of her end by his strange absence, Grew shamelesse desperate, open'd (in despight Of Heauen, and Men) her purposes: repented The euils she hatch'd, were not effected: so
[3190]
Dispayring, dyed.
Cym. Heard you all this, her Women? La. We did, so please your Highnesse. Cym. Mine eyes Were not in fault, for she was beautifull:
[3195]
Mine eares that heare her flattery, nor my heart, That thought her like her seeming. It had beene vicious To haue mistrusted her: yet (Oh my Daughter) That it was folly in me, thou mayst say, And proue it in thy feeling. Heauen mend all. Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and other Roman prisoners, Leonatus behind, and Imogen.
[3200]
Thou comm'st not Caius now for Tribute, that The Britaines haue rac'd out, though with the losse Of many a bold one: whose Kinsmen haue made suite That their good soules may be appeas'd, with slaughter Of you their Captiues, which our selfe haue granted,
[3205]
So thinke of your estate.
Luc. Consider Sir, the chance of Warre, the day Was yours by accident: had it gone with vs, We should not when the blood was cool, haue threatend Our Prisoners with the Sword. But since the Gods
[3210]
Will haue it thus, that nothing but our liues May be call'd ransome, let it come: Sufficeth, A Roman, with a Romans heart can suffer: Augustus liues to thinke on't: and so much For my peculiar care. This one thing onely
[3215]
I will entreate, my Boy (a Britaine borne) Let him be ransom'd: Neuer Master had A Page so kinde, so duteous, diligent, So tender ouer his occasions, true, So feate, so Nurse‑like: let his vertue ioyne
[3220]
With my request, which Ile make bold your Highnesse Cannot deny: he hath done no Britaine harme, Though he haue seru'd a Roman. Saue him (Sir) And spare no blood beside.
Cym. I haue surely seene him:
[3225]
His fauour is familiar to me: Boy, Thou hast look'd thy selfe into my grace, And art mine owne. I know not why, wherefore, To say, liue boy: ne're thanke thy Master, liue; And aske of Cymbeline what Boone thou wilt,
[3230]
Fitting my bounty, and thy state, Ile giue it: Y

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Scena Quinta. [Act 5, Scene 5] Enter Cymbeline, Bellarius, Guiderius, Arui­ ragus, Pisanio, and Lords. Cym.
[3120]
Stand by my side you, whom the Gods haue made Preseruers of my Throne: woe is my heart, That the poore Souldier that so richly fought, Whose ragges, sham'd gilded Armes, whose naked brest Stept before Targes of proofe, cannot be found:
[3125]
He shall be happy that can finde him, if Our Grace can make him so.
Bel. I neuer saw Such Noble fury in so poore a Thing; Such precious deeds, in one that promist nought
[3130]
But beggery, and poore lookes.
Cym. No tydings of him? Pisa. He hath bin search'd among the dead, & liuing; But no trace of him. Cym. To my greefe, I am
[3135]
The heyre of his Reward, which I will adde To you (the Liuer, Heart, and Braine of Britaine) By whom (I grant) she liues. 'Tis now the time To aske of whence you are. Report it.
Bel. Sir,
[3140]
In Cambria are we borne, and Gentlemen: Further to boast, were neyther true, nor modest, Vnlesse I adde, we are honest.
Cym. Bow your knees: Arise my Knights o'th'Battell, I create you
[3145]
Companions to our person, and will fit you With Dignities becomming your estates. Enter Cornelius and Ladies. There's businesse in these faces: why so sadly Greet you our Victory? you looke like Romaines, And not o'th'Court of Britaine.
Corn.
[3150]
Hayle great King, To sowre your happinesse, I must report The Queene is dead.
Cym. Who worse then a Physitian Would this report become? But I consider,
[3155]
By Med'cine life may be prolong'd, yet death Will seize the Doctor too. How ended she?
Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life, Which (being cruell to the world) concluded Most cruell to her selfe. What she confest,
[3160]
I will report, so please you. These her Women Can trip me, if I erre, who with wet cheekes Were present when she finish'd.
Cym. Prythee say. Cor. First, she confest she neuer lou'd you: onely
[3165]
Affected Greatnesse got by you: not you: Married your Royalty, was wife to your place: Abhorr'd your person.
Cym. She alone knew this: And but she spoke it dying, I would not
[3170]
Beleeue her lips in opening it. Proceed.
Corn. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to loue With such integrity, she did confesse Was as a Scorpion to her sight, whose life (But that her flight preuented it) she had
[3175]
Tane off by poison.
Cym. O most delicate Fiend! Who is't can reade a Woman? Is there more ? Corn. More Sir, and worse. She did confesse she had For you a mortall Minerall, which being tooke,
[3180]
Should by the minute feede on life, and ling'ring, By inches waste you. In which time, she purpos'd By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to Orecome you with her shew; and in time (When she had fitted you with her craft, to worke
[3185]
Her Sonne into th'adoption of the Crowne: But fayling of her end by his strange absence, Grew shamelesse desperate, open'd (in despight Of Heauen, and Men) her purposes: repented The euils she hatch'd, were not effected: so
[3190]
Dispayring, dyed.
Cym. Heard you all this, her Women? La. We did, so please your Highnesse. Cym. Mine eyes Were not in fault, for she was beautifull:
[3195]
Mine eares that heare her flattery, nor my heart, That thought her like her seeming. It had beene vicious To haue mistrusted her: yet (Oh my Daughter) That it was folly in me, thou mayst say, And proue it in thy feeling. Heauen mend all. Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and other Roman prisoners, Leonatus behind, and Imogen.
[3200]
Thou comm'st not Caius now for Tribute, that The Britaines haue rac'd out, though with the losse Of many a bold one: whose Kinsmen haue made suite That their good soules may be appeas'd, with slaughter Of you their Captiues, which our selfe haue granted,
[3205]
So thinke of your estate.
Luc. Consider Sir, the chance of Warre, the day Was yours by accident: had it gone with vs, We should not when the blood was cool, haue threatend Our Prisoners with the Sword. But since the Gods
[3210]
Will haue it thus, that nothing but our liues May be call'd ransome, let it come: Sufficeth, A Roman, with a Romans heart can suffer: Augustus liues to thinke on't: and so much For my peculiar care. This one thing onely
[3215]
I will entreate, my Boy (a Britaine borne) Let him be ransom'd: Neuer Master had A Page so kinde, so duteous, diligent, So tender ouer his occasions, true, So feate, so Nurse‑like: let his vertue ioyne
[3220]
With my request, which Ile make bold your Highnesse Cannot deny: he hath done no Britaine harme, Though he haue seru'd a Roman. Saue him (Sir) And spare no blood beside.
Cym. I haue surely seene him:
[3225]
His fauour is familiar to me: Boy, Thou hast look'd thy selfe into my grace, And art mine owne. I know not why, wherefore, To say, liue boy: ne're thanke thy Master, liue; And aske of Cymbeline what Boone thou wilt,
[3230]
Fitting my bounty, and thy state, Ile giue it: Yea, though thou do demand a Prisoner The Noblest tane.
Imo. I humbly thanke your Highnesse. Luc. I do not bid thee begge my life, good Lad,
[3235]
And yet I know thou wilt.
Imo. No, no, alacke, There's other worke in hand: I see a thing Bitter to me, as death: your life, good Master, Must shuffle for it selfe. Luc.
[3240]
The Boy disdaines me, He leaues me, scornes me: briefely dye their ioyes, That place them on the truth of Gyrles, and Boyes. Why stands he so perplext?
Cym. What would'st thou Boy?
[3245]
I loue thee more, and more: thinke more and more What's best to aske. Know'st him thou look'st on? speak Wilt haue him liue? Is he thy Kin? thy Friend?
Imo. He is a Romane, no more kin to me, Then I to your Highnesse, who being born your vassaile
[3250]
Am something neerer.
Cym. Wherefore ey'st him so? Imo. Ile tell you (Sir) in priuate, if you please To giue me hearing. Cym. I, with all my heart,
[3255]
And lend my best attention. What's thy name?
Imo. Fidele Sir. Cym. Thou'rt my good youth: my Page Ile be thy Master: walke with me: speake freely. Bel. Is not this Boy reuiu'd from death? Arui.
[3260]
One Sand another Not more resembles that sweet Rosie Lad: Who dyed, and was Fidele: what thinke you ?
Gui. The same dead thing aliue. Bel. Peace, peace, see further: he eyes vs not, forbeare
[3265]
Creatures may be alike: were't he, I am sure He would haue spoke to vs.
Gui. But we see him dead. Bel. Be silent: let's see further. Pisa. It is my Mistris:
[3270]
Since she is liuing, let the time run on, To good, or bad.
Cym. Come, stand thou by our side, Make thy demand alowd. Sir, step you forth, Giue answer to this Boy, and do it freely,
[3275]
Or by our Greatnesse, and the grace of it (Which is our Honor) bitter torture shall Winnow the truth from falshood. One speake to him.
Imo. My boone is, that this Gentleman may render Of whom he had this Ring. Post.
[3280]
What's that to him?
Cym. That Diamond vpon your Finger, say How came it yours ? Iach. Thou'lt torture me to leaue vnspoken, that Which to be spoke, wou'd torture thee. Cym.
[3285]
How? me?
Iach. I am glad to be constrain'd to vtter that Which torments me to conceale. By Villany I got this Ring: 'twas Leonatus Iewell, Whom thou did'st banish: and which more may greeue (thee,
[3290]
As it doth me: a Nobler Sir, ne're liu'd 'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou heare more my Lord?
Cym. All that belongs to this. Iach. That Paragon, thy daughter, For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits
[3295]
Quaile to remember. Giue me leaue, I faint.
Cym. My Daughter? what of hir? Renew thy strength I had rather thou should'st liue, while Nature will, Then dye ere I heare more: striue man, and speake. Iach. Vpon a time, vnhappy was the clocke
[3300]
That strooke the houre: it was in Rome, accurst The Mansion where: 'twas at a Feast, oh would Our Viands had bin poyson'd (or at least Those which I heau'd to head:) the good Posthumus, (What should I say ? he was too good to be
[3305]
Where ill men were, and was the best of all Among'st the rar'st of good ones) sitting sadly, Hearing vs praise our Loues of Italy For Beauty, that made barren the swell'd boast Of him that best could speake: for Feature, laming
[3310]
The Shrine of Venus, or straight‑pight Minerua, Postures, beyond breefe Nature. For Condition, A shop of all the qualities, that man Loues woman for, besides that hooke of Wiuing, Fairenesse, which strikes the eye.
Cym.
[3315]
I stand on fire. Come to the matter.
Iach. All too soone I shall, Vnlesse thou would'st greeue quickly. This Posthumus, Most like a Noble Lord, in loue, and one That had a Royall Louer, tooke his hint,
[3320]
And (not dispraising whom we prais'd, therein He was as calme as vertue) he began His Mistris picture, which, by his tongue, being made, And then a minde put in't, either our bragges Were crak'd of Kitchin‑Trulles, or his description
[3325]
Prou'd vs vnspeaking sottes.
Cym. Nay, nay, to'th'purpose. Iach. Your daughters Chastity, (there it beginnes) He spake of her, as Dian had hot dreames, And she alone, were cold: Whereat, I wretch
[3330]
Made scruple of his praise, and wager'd with him Peeces of Gold, 'gainst this, which then he wore Vpon his honour'd finger) to attaine In suite the place of's bed, and winne this Ring By hers, and mine Adultery: he (true Knight)
[3335]
No lesser of her Honour confident Then I did truly finde her, stakes this Ring, And would so, had it beene a Carbuncle Of Phœbus Wheele; and might so safely, had it Bin all the worth of's Carre. Away to Britaine
[3340]
Poste I in this designe: Well may you (Sir) Remember me at Court, where I was taught Of your chaste Daughter, the wide difference 'Twixt Amorous, and Villanous. Being thus quench'd Of hope, not longing; mine Italian braine,
[3345]
Gan in your duller Britaine operare Most vildely: for my vantage excellent. And to be breefe, my practise so preuayl'd That I return'd with simular proofe enough, To make the Noble Leonatus mad,
[3350]
By wounding his beleefe in her Renowne, With Tokens thus, and thus: auerring notes Of Chamber‑hanging, Pictures, this her Bracelet (Oh cunning how I got) nay some markes Of secret on her person, that he could not
[3355]
But thinke her bond of Chastity quite crack'd, I hauing 'tane the forfeyt. Whereupon, Me thinkes I see him now.
Post. I so thou do'st, Italian Fiend. Aye me, most credulous Foole,
[3360]
Egregious murtherer, Theefe, any thing That's due to all the Villaines past, in being To come. Oh giue me Cord, or knife, or poyson, Some vpright Iusticer. Thou King, send out For Torturors ingenious: it is I
[3365]
That all th'abhorred things o'th'earth amend By being worse then they. I am Posthumus, That kill'd thy Daughter: Villain‑like, I lye, That caus'd a lesser villaine then my selfe, A sacrilegious Theefe to doo't. The Temple
[3370]
Of Vertue was she; yea, and she her selfe. Spit, and throw stones, cast myre vpon me, set The dogges o'th'street to bay me: euery villaine Be call'd Posthumus Leonatus, and Be villany lesse then 'twas. Oh Imogen!
[3375]
My Queene, my life, my wife: oh Imogen, Imogen, Imogen.
Imo. Peace my Lord, heare, heare. Post. Shall's haue a play of this? Thou scornfull Page, there lye thy part. Pis.
[3380]
Oh Gentlemen, helpe, Mine and your Mistris: Oh my Lord Posthumus, You ne're kill'd Imogen till now: helpe, helpe, Mine honour'd Lady.
Cym. Does the world go round? Posth.
[3385]
How comes these staggers on mee?
Pisa. Wake my Mistris. Cym. If this be so, the Gods do meane to strike me To death, with mortall ioy. Pisa. How fares my Mistris? Imo.
[3390]
Oh get thee from my sight, Thou gau'st me poyson: dangerous Fellow hence, Breath not where Princes are.
Cym. The tune of Imogen. Pisæ. Lady, the Gods throw stones of sulpher on me, if
[3395]
That box I gaue you, was not thought by mee A precious thing, I had it from the Queene.
Cym. New matter still. Imo. It poyson'd me. Corn. Oh Gods!
[3400]
I left out one thing which the Queene confest, Which must approue thee honest. If Pasanio Haue (said she) giuen his Mistris that Confection Which I gaue him for Cordiall, she is seru'd, As I would serue a Rat.
Cym.
[3405]
What's this, Cornelius?
Corn. The Queene (Sir) very oft importun'd me To temper poysons for her, still pretending The satisfaction of her knowledge, onely In killing Creatures vilde, as Cats and Dogges
[3410]
Of no esteeme. I dreading, that her purpose Was of more danger, did compound for her A certaine stuffe, which being tane, would cease The present powre of life, but in short time, All Offices of Nature, should againe
[3415]
Do their due Functions. Haue you tane of it?
Imo. Most like I did, for I was dead. Bel. My Boyes, there was our error. Gui. This is sure Fidele. Imo. Why did you throw your wedded Lady fro you ?
[3420]
Thinke that you are vpon a Rocke, and now Throw me againe.
Post. Hang there like fruite, my soule, Till the Tree dye. Cym. How now, my Flesh? my Childe?
[3425]
What, mak'st thou me a dullard in this Act? Wilt thou not speake to me?
Imo. Your blessing, Sir. Bel. Though you did loue this youth, I blame ye not, You had a motiue for't. Cym.
[3430]
My teares that fall Proue holy‑water on thee; Imogen, Thy Mothers dead.
Imo. I am sorry for't, my Lord. Cym. Oh, she was naught; and long of her it was
[3435]
That we meet heere so strangely: but her Sonne Is gone, we know not how, nor where.
Pisa. My Lord, Now feare is from me, Ile speake troth. Lord Cloten Vpon my Ladies missing, came to me
[3440]
With his Sword drawne, foam'd at the mouth, and swore If I discouer'd not which way she was gone, It was my instant death. By accident, I had a feigned Letter of my Masters Then in my pocket, which directed him
[3445]
To seeke her on the Mountaines neere to Milford, Where in a frenzie, in my Masters Garments (Which he inforc'd from me) away he postes With vnchaste purpose, and with oath to violate My Ladies honor, what became of him,
[3450]
I further know not.
Gui. Let me end the Story: I slew him there. Cym. Marry, the Gods forefend. I would not thy good deeds, should from my lips Plucke a hard sentence: Prythee valiant youth
[3455]
Deny't againe.
Gui. I haue spoke it, and I did it. Cym. He was a Prince. Gui. A most inciuill one. The wrongs he did mee Were nothing Prince‑like; for he did prouoke me
[3460]
With Language that would make me spurne the Sea, If it could so roare to me. I cut off's head, And am right glad he is not standing heere To tell this tale of mine.
Cym. I am sorrow for thee:
[3465]
By thine owne tongue thou art condemn'd, and must Endure our Law: Thou'rt dead.
Imo. That headlesse man I thought had bin my Lord Cym. Binde the Offender, And take him from our presence. Bel.
[3470]
Stay, Sir King. This man is better then the man he slew, As well descended as thy selfe, and hath More of thee merited, then a Band of Clotens Had euer scarre for. Let his Armes alone,
[3475]
They were not borne for bondage.
Cym. Why old Soldier: Wilt thou vndoo the worth thou art vnpayd for By tasting of our wrath? How of descent As good as we? Arui.
[3480]
In that he spake too farre.
Cym. And thou shalt dye for't. Bel. We will dye all three, But I will proue that two one's are as good As I haue giuen out him. My Sonnes, I must
[3485]
For mine owne part, vnfold a dangerous speech, Though haply well for you.
Arui. Your danger's ours. Guid. And our good his. Bel. Haue at it then, by leaue
[3490]
Thou hadd'st (great King) a Subiect, who Was call'd Belarius.
Cym. What of him? He is a banish'd Traitor. Bel. He it is, that hath Assum'd this age: indeed a banish'd man, This page has been torn and creased, obscuring any catchword.
[3495]
I know not how, a Traitor.
Cym. Take him hence, The whole world shall not saue him. Bel. Not too hot; First pay me for the Nursing of thy Sonnes,
[3500]
And let it be confiscate all, so soone As I haue receyu'd it.
Cym. Nursing of my Sonnes? Bel. I am too blunt, and sawcy: heere's my knee: Ere I arise, I will preferre my Sonnes,
[3505]
Then spare not the old Father. Mighty Sir, These two young Gentlemen that call me Father, And thinke they are my Sonnes, are none of mine, They are the yssue of your Loynes, my Liege, And blood of your begetting.
Cym.
[3510]
How? my Issue.
Bel. So sure as you, your Fathers: I (old Morgan) Am that Belarius, whom you sometime banish'd: Your pleasure was my neere offence, my punishment It selfe, and all my Treason that I suffer'd,
[3515]
Was all the harme I did. These gentle Princes (For such, and so they are) these twenty yeares Haue I train'd vp; those Arts they haue, as I Could put into them. My breeding was (Sir) As your Highnesse knowes: Their Nurse Euriphile
[3520]
(Whom for the Theft I wedded) stole these Children Vpon my Banishment: I moou'd her too't, Hauing receyu'd the punishment before For that which I did then. Beaten for Loyaltie, Excited me to Treason. Their deere losse,
[3525]
The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shap'd Vnto my end of stealing them. But gracious Sir, Heere are your Sonnes againe, and I must loose Two of the sweet'st Companions in the World. The benediction of these couering Heauens
[3530]
Fall on their heads like dew, for they are worthie To in‑lay Heauen with Starres.
Cym. Thou weep'st, and speak'st: The Seruice that you three haue done, is m re Vnlike, then this thou tell'st. I lost my Children,
[3535]
If these be they, I know not how to wish A payre of worthier Sonnes.
Bel. Be pleas'd awhile; This Gentleman, whom I call Polidore, Most worthy Prince, as yours, is true Guiderius:
[3540]
This Gentleman, my Cadwall, Aruiragus. Your yonger Princely Son, he Sir, was lapt In a most curious Mantle, wrought by th'hand Of his Queene Mother, which for more probation I can with ease produce.
Cym.
[3545]
Guiderius had Vpon his necke a Mole, a sanguine Starre, It was a marke of wonder.
Bel. This is he, Who hath vpon him still that naturall stampe:
[3550]
It was wise Natures end, in the donation To be his euidence now.
Cym. Oh, what am I A Mother to the byrth of three? Nere Mother Reioyc'd deliuerance more: Blest, pray you be,
[3555]
That after this strange starting from your Orbes, You may reigne in them now: Oh Imogen, Thou hast lost by this a Kingdome.
Imo. No, my Lord: I haue got two Worlds by't. Oh my gentle Brothers,
[3560]
Haue we thus met? Oh neuer say heereafter But I am truest speaker. You call'd me Brother When I was but your Sister: I you Brothers, When we were so indeed.
Cym. Did you ere meete? Arui.
[3565]
I my good Lord.
Gui. And at first meeting lou'd, Continew'd so, vntill we thought he dyed. Corn. By the Queenes Dramme she swallow'd. Cym. O rare instinct!
[3570]
When shall I heare all through? This fierce abridgment, Hath to it Circumstantiall branches, which Distinction should be rich in. Where? how liu'd you? And when came you to serue our Romane Captiue? How parted with your Brother? How first met them?
[3575]
Why fled you from the Court? And whether these? And your three motiues to the Battaile? with I know not how much more should be demanded, And all the other by‑dependances From chance to chance? But nor the Time, nor Place
[3580]
Will serue our long Interrogatories. See, Posthumus Anchors vpon Imogen; And she (like harmlesse Lightning) throwes her eye On him: her Brothers, Me: her Master hitting Each obiect with a Ioy: the Counter‑change
[3585]
Is seuerally in all. Let's quit this ground, And smoake the Temple with our Sacrifices. Thou art my Brother, so wee'l hold thee euer.
Imo. You are my Father too, and did releeue me: To see this gracious season. Cym.
[3590]
All ore‑ioy'd Saue these in bonds, let them be ioyfull too, For they shall taste our Comfort.
Imo. My good Master, I will yet do you seruice. Luc. Happy be you. Cym.
[3595]
The forlorne Souldier, that so Nobly fought He would haue well becom'd this place, and grac'd The thankings of a King.
Post. I am Sir The Souldier that did company these three
[3600]
In poore beseeming: 'twas a fitment for The purpose I then follow'd. That I was he, Speake Iachimo, I had you downe, and might Haue made you finish.
Iach. I am downe againe:
[3605]
But now my heauie Conscience sinkes my knee, As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you Which I so often owe: but your Ring first, And heere the Bracelet of the truest Princesse That euer swore her Faith.
Post.
[3610]
Kneele not to me: The powre that I haue on you, is to spare you: The malice towards you, to forgiue you. Liue And deale with others better.
Cym. Nobly doom'd:
[3615]
Wee'l learne our Freenesse of a Sonne‑in‑Law: Pardon's the word to all.
Arui. You holpe vs Sir, As you did meane indeed to be our Brother, Ioy'd are we, that you are. Post.
[3620]
Your Seruant Princes. Good my Lord of Rome Call forth your Sooth‑sayer: As I slept, me thought Great Iupiter vpon his Eagle back'd Appear'd to me, with other sprightly shewes Of mine owne Kindred. When I wak'd, I found
[3625]
This Labell on my bosome; whose containing Is so from sense in hardnesse, that I can Make no Collection of it. Let him shew His skill in the construction.
Luc. Philarmonus. Sooth.
[3630]
Heere, my good Lord.
Luc. Read, and declare the meaning. 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,

[3635]

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

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

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

tie.

Thou Leonatus art the Lyons Whelpe,
[3640]
The fit and apt Construction of thy name Being Leonatus, doth import so much: The peece of tender Ayre, thy vertuous Daughter, Which we call Mollis Aer, and Mollis Aer We terme it Mulier; which Mulier I diuine
[3645]
Is this most constant Wife, who euen now Answering the Letter of the Oracle, Vnknowne to you vnsought, were clipt about With this most tender Aire.
Cym. This hath some seeming. Sooth.
[3650]
The lofty Cedar, Royall Cymbeline Personates thee: And thy lopt Branches, point Thy two Sonnes forth: who by Belarius stolne For many yeares thought dead, are now reuiu'd To the Maiesticke Cedar ioyn'd; whose Issue
[3655]
Promises Britaine, Peace and Plenty.
Cym. Well, My Peace we will begin: And Caius Lucius, Although the Victor, we submit to Cæsar, And to the Romane Empire; promising
[3660]
To pay our wonted Tribute, from the which We were disswaded by our wicked Queene, Whom heauens in Iustice both on her, and hers, Haue laid most heauy hand.
Sooth. The fingers of the Powres aboue, do tune
[3665]
The harmony of this Peace: the Vision Which I made knowne to Lucius ere the stroke Of yet this scarse‑cold‑Battaile, at this instant Is full accomplish'd. For the Romaine Eagle From South to West, on wing soaring aloft
[3670]
Lessen'd her selfe, and in the Beames o'th'Sun So vanish'd; which fore‑shew'd our Princely Eagle Th'Imperiall Cæsar, should againe vnite His Fauour, with the Radiant Cymbeline, Which shines heere in the West.
Cym.
[3675]
Laud we the Gods, And let our crooked Smoakes climbe to their Nostrils From our blest Altars. Publish we this Peace To all our Subiects. Set we forward: Let A Roman, and a Brittish Ensigne waue
[3680]
Friendly together: so through Luds‑Towne march, And in the Temple of great Iupiter Our Peace wee'l ratifie: Seale it with Feasts. Set on there: Neuer was a Warre did cease (Ere bloodie hands were wash'd) with such a Peace.
Exeunt.
 

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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="5">
   <head rend="italic center">Scena Quinta.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 5, Scene 5]</head>
   <stage rend="center" type="entrance">Enter Cymbeline, Bellarius, Guiderius, Arui­
      <lb/>ragus, Pisanio, and Lords.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3120">Stand by my side you, whom the Gods haue made</l>
      <l n="3121">Preseruers of my Throne: woe is my heart,</l>
      <l n="3122">That the poore Souldier that so richly fought,</l>
      <l n="3123">Whose ragges, sham'd gilded Armes, whose naked brest</l>
      <l n="3124">Stept before Targes of proofe, cannot be found:</l>
      <l n="3125">He shall be happy that can finde him, if</l>
      <l n="3126">Our Grace can make him so.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3127">I neuer saw</l>
      <l n="3128">Such Noble fury in so poore a Thing;</l>
      <l n="3129">Such precious deeds, in one that promist nought</l>
      <l n="3130">But beggery, and poore lookes.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3131">No tydings of him?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-pis">
      <speaker rend="italic">Pisa.</speaker>
      <l n="3132">He hath bin search'd among the dead, &amp; liuing;</l>
      <l n="3133">But no trace of him.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3134">To my greefe, I am</l>
      <l n="3135">The heyre of his Reward, which I will adde</l>
      <l n="3136">To you (the Liuer, Heart, and Braine of Britaine)</l>
      <l n="3137">By whom (I grant) she liues. 'Tis now the time</l>
      <l n="3138">To aske of whence you are. Report it.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3139">Sir,</l>
      <l n="3140">In Cambria are we borne, and Gentlemen:</l>
      <l n="3141">Further to boast, were neyther true, nor modest,</l>
      <l n="3142">Vnlesse I adde, we are honest.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3143">Bow your knees:</l>
      <l n="3144">Arise my Knights o'th'Battell, I create you</l>
      <l n="3145">Companions to our person, and will fit you</l>
      <l n="3146">With Dignities becomming your estates.</l>
      <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Cornelius and Ladies.</stage>
      <l n="3147">There's businesse in these faces: why so sadly</l>
      <l n="3148">Greet you our Victory? you looke like Romaines,</l>
      <l n="3149">And not o'th'Court of Britaine.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Corn.</speaker>
      <l n="3150">Hayle great King,</l>
      <l n="3151">To sowre your happinesse, I must report</l>
      <l n="3152">The Queene is dead.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3153">Who worse then a Physitian</l>
      <l n="3154">Would this report become? But I consider,</l>
      <l n="3155">By Med'cine life may be prolong'd, yet death</l>
      <l n="3156">Will seize the Doctor too. How ended she?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cor.</speaker>
      <l n="3157">With horror, madly dying, like her life,</l>
      <l n="3158">Which (being cruell to the world) concluded</l>
      <l n="3159">Most cruell to her selfe. What she confest,</l>
      <l n="3160">I will report, so please you. These her Women</l>
      <l n="3161">Can trip me, if I erre, who with wet cheekes</l>
      <l n="3162">Were present when she finish'd.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3163">Prythee say.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cor.</speaker>
      <l n="3164">First, she confest she neuer lou'd you: onely</l>
      <l n="3165">Affected Greatnesse got by you: not you:</l>
      <l n="3166">Married your Royalty, was wife to your place:</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="3167">Abhorr'd your person.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3168">She alone knew this:</l>
      <l n="3169">And but she spoke it dying, I would not</l>
      <l n="3170">Beleeue her lips in opening it. Proceed.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Corn.</speaker>
      <l n="3171">Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to loue</l>
      <l n="3172">With such integrity, she did confesse</l>
      <l n="3173">Was as a Scorpion to her sight, whose life</l>
      <l n="3174">(But that her flight preuented it) she had</l>
      <l n="3175">Tane off by poison.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3176">O most delicate Fiend!</l>
      <l n="3177">Who is't can reade a Woman? Is there more<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Corn.</speaker>
      <l n="3178">More Sir, and worse. She did confesse she had</l>
      <l n="3179">For you a mortall Minerall, which being tooke,</l>
      <l n="3180">Should by the minute feede on life, and ling'ring,</l>
      <l n="3181">By inches waste you. In which time, she purpos'd</l>
      <l n="3182">By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to</l>
      <l n="3183">Orecome you with her shew; and in time</l>
      <l n="3184">(When she had fitted you with her craft, to worke</l>
      <l n="3185">Her Sonne into th'adoption of the Crowne:</l>
      <l n="3186">But fayling of her end by his strange absence,</l>
      <l n="3187">Grew shamelesse desperate, open'd (in despight</l>
      <l n="3188">Of Heauen, and Men) her purposes: repented</l>
      <l n="3189">The euils she hatch'd, were not effected: so</l>
      <l n="3190">Dispayring, dyed.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3191">Heard you all this, her Women?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lad">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <l n="3192">We did, so please your Highnesse.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3193">Mine eyes</l>
      <l n="3194">Were not in fault, for she was beautifull:</l>
      <l n="3195">Mine eares that heare her flattery, nor my heart,</l>
      <l n="3196">That thought her like her seeming. It had beene vicious</l>
      <l n="3197">To haue mistrusted her: yet (Oh my Daughter)</l>
      <l n="3198">That it was folly in me, thou mayst say,</l>
      <l n="3199">And proue it in thy feeling. Heauen mend all.</l>
      <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Lucius, Iachimo, and other Roman prisoners,
      <lb/>Leonatus behind, and Imogen.</stage>
      <l n="3200">Thou comm'st not<hi rend="italic">Caius</hi>now for Tribute, that</l>
      <l n="3201">The Britaines haue rac'd out, though with the losse</l>
      <l n="3202">Of many a bold one: whose Kinsmen haue made suite</l>
      <l n="3203">That their good soules may be appeas'd, with slaughter</l>
      <l n="3204">Of you their Captiues, which our selfe haue granted,</l>
      <l n="3205">So thinke of your estate.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-luc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Luc.</speaker>
      <l n="3206">Consider Sir, the chance of Warre, the day</l>
      <l n="3207">Was yours by accident: had it gone with vs,</l>
      <l n="3208">We should not when the blood was cool, haue threatend</l>
      <l n="3209">Our Prisoners with the Sword. But since the Gods</l>
      <l n="3210">Will haue it thus, that nothing but our liues</l>
      <l n="3211">May be call'd ransome, let it come: Sufficeth,</l>
      <l n="3212">A Roman, with a Romans heart can suffer:</l>
      <l n="3213">
         <hi rend="italic">Augustus</hi>liues to thinke on't: and so much</l>
      <l n="3214">For my peculiar care. This one thing onely</l>
      <l n="3215">I will entreate, my Boy (a Britaine borne)</l>
      <l n="3216">Let him be ransom'd: Neuer Master had</l>
      <l n="3217">A Page so kinde, so duteous, diligent,</l>
      <l n="3218">So tender ouer his occasions, true,</l>
      <l n="3219">So feate, so Nurse‑like: let his vertue ioyne</l>
      <l n="3220">With my request, which Ile make bold your Highnesse</l>
      <l n="3221">Cannot deny: he hath done no Britaine harme,</l>
      <l n="3222">Though he haue seru'd a Roman. Saue him (Sir)</l>
      <l n="3223">And spare no blood beside.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3224">I haue surely seene him:</l>
      <l n="3225">His fauour is familiar to me: Boy,</l>
      <l n="3226">Thou hast look'd thy selfe into my grace,</l>
      <l n="3227">And art mine owne. I know not why, wherefore,</l>
      <l n="3228">To say, liue boy: ne're thanke thy Master, liue;</l>
      <l n="3229">And aske of<hi rend="italic">Cymbeline</hi>what Boone thou wilt,</l>
      <l n="3230">Fitting my bounty, and thy state, Ile giue it:</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0906-0.jpg" n="396"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="3231">Yea, though thou do demand a Prisoner</l>
      <l n="3232">The Noblest tane.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3233">I humbly thanke your Highnesse.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-luc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Luc.</speaker>
      <l n="3234">I do not bid thee begge my life, good Lad,</l>
      <l n="3235">And yet I know thou wilt.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3236">No, no, alacke,</l>
      <l n="3237">There's other worke in hand: I see a thing</l>
      <l n="3238">Bitter to me, as death: your life, good Master,</l>
      <l n="3239">Must shuffle for it selfe.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-luc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Luc.</speaker>
      <l n="3240">The Boy disdaines me,</l>
      <l n="3241">He leaues me, scornes me: briefely dye their ioyes,</l>
      <l n="3242">That place them on the truth of Gyrles, and Boyes.</l>
      <l n="3243">Why stands he so perplext?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3244">What would'st thou Boy?</l>
      <l n="3245">I loue thee more, and more: thinke more and more</l>
      <l n="3246">What's best to aske. Know'st him thou look'st on? speak</l>
      <l n="3247">Wilt haue him liue? Is he thy Kin? thy Friend?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3248">He is a Romane, no more kin to me,</l>
      <l n="3249">Then I to your Highnesse, who being born your vassaile</l>
      <l n="3250">Am something neerer.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3251">Wherefore ey'st him so?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3252">Ile tell you (Sir) in priuate, if you please</l>
      <l n="3253">To giue me hearing.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3254">I, with all my heart,</l>
      <l n="3255">And lend my best attention. What's thy name?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3256">
         <hi rend="italic">Fidele</hi>Sir.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3257">Thou'rt my good youth: my Page</l>
      <l n="3258">Ile be thy Master: walke with me: speake freely.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3259">Is not this Boy reuiu'd from death?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-arv">
      <speaker rend="italic">Arui.</speaker>
      <l n="3260">One Sand another</l>
      <l n="3261">Not more resembles that sweet Rosie Lad:</l>
      <l n="3262">Who dyed, and was<hi rend="italic">Fidele:</hi>what thinke you<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gui">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gui.</speaker>
      <l n="3263">The same dead thing aliue.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3264">Peace, peace, see further: he eyes vs not, forbeare</l>
      <l n="3265">Creatures may be alike: were't he, I am sure</l>
      <l n="3266">He would haue spoke to vs.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gui">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gui.</speaker>
      <l n="3267">But we see him dead.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3268">Be silent: let's see further.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-pis">
      <speaker rend="italic">Pisa.</speaker>
      <l n="3269">It is my Mistris:</l>
      <l n="3270">Since she is liuing, let the time run on,</l>
      <l n="3271">To good, or bad.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3272">Come, stand thou by our side,</l>
      <l n="3273">Make thy demand alowd. Sir, step you forth,</l>
      <l n="3274">Giue answer to this Boy, and do it freely,</l>
      <l n="3275">Or by our Greatnesse, and the grace of it</l>
      <l n="3276">(Which is our Honor) bitter torture shall</l>
      <l n="3277">Winnow the truth from falshood. One speake to him.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3278">My boone is, that this Gentleman may render</l>
      <l n="3279">Of whom he had this Ring.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <l n="3280">What's that to him?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3281">That Diamond vpon your Finger, say</l>
      <l n="3282">How came it yours<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-iac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iach.</speaker>
      <l n="3283">Thou'lt torture me to leaue vnspoken, that</l>
      <l n="3284">Which to be spoke, wou'd torture thee.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3285">How? me?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-iac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iach.</speaker>
      <l n="3286">I am glad to be constrain'd to vtter that</l>
      <l n="3287">Which torments me to conceale. By Villany</l>
      <l n="3288">I got this Ring: 'twas<hi rend="italic">Leonatus</hi>Iewell,</l>
      <l n="3289">Whom thou did'st banish: and which more may greeue
      <lb rend="turnunder"/>
         <pc rend="turnunder">(</pc>thee,</l>
      <l n="3290">As it doth me: a Nobler Sir, ne're liu'd</l>
      <l n="3291">'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou heare more my Lord?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3292">All that belongs to this.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-iac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iach.</speaker>
      <l n="3293">That Paragon, thy daughter,</l>
      <l n="3294">For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits</l>
      <l n="3295">Quaile to remember. Giue me leaue, I faint.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3296">My Daughter? what of hir? Renew thy strength</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="3297">I had rather thou should'st liue, while Nature will,</l>
      <l n="3298">Then dye ere I heare more: striue man, and speake.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-iac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iach.</speaker>
      <l n="3299">Vpon a time, vnhappy was the clocke</l>
      <l n="3300">That strooke the houre: it was in Rome, accurst</l>
      <l n="3301">The Mansion where: 'twas at a Feast, oh would</l>
      <l n="3302">Our Viands had bin poyson'd (or at least</l>
      <l n="3303">Those which I heau'd to head:) the good<hi rend="italic">Posthumus</hi>,</l>
      <l n="3304">(What should I say<c rend="italic">?</c>he was too good to be</l>
      <l n="3305">Where ill men were, and was the best of all</l>
      <l n="3306">Among'st the rar'st of good ones) sitting sadly,</l>
      <l n="3307">Hearing vs praise our Loues of Italy</l>
      <l n="3308">For Beauty, that made barren the swell'd boast</l>
      <l n="3309">Of him that best could speake: for Feature, laming</l>
      <l n="3310">The Shrine of<hi rend="italic">Venus</hi>, or straight‑pight<hi rend="italic">Minerua</hi>,</l>
      <l n="3311">Postures, beyond breefe Nature. For Condition,</l>
      <l n="3312">A shop of all the qualities, that man</l>
      <l n="3313">Loues woman for, besides that hooke of Wiuing,</l>
      <l n="3314">Fairenesse, which strikes the eye.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3315">I stand on fire. Come to the matter.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-iac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iach.</speaker>
      <l n="3316">All too soone I shall,</l>
      <l n="3317">Vnlesse thou would'st greeue quickly. This<hi rend="italic">Posthumus</hi>,</l>
      <l n="3318">Most like a Noble Lord, in loue, and one</l>
      <l n="3319">That had a Royall Louer, tooke his hint,</l>
      <l n="3320">And (not dispraising whom we prais'd, therein</l>
      <l n="3321">He was as calme as vertue) he began</l>
      <l n="3322">His Mistris picture, which, by his tongue, being made,</l>
      <l n="3323">And then a minde put in't, either our bragges</l>
      <l n="3324">Were crak'd of Kitchin‑Trulles, or his description</l>
      <l n="3325">Prou'd vs vnspeaking sottes.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3326">Nay, nay, to'th'purpose.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-iac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iach.</speaker>
      <l n="3327">Your daughters Chastity, (there it beginnes)</l>
      <l n="3328">He spake of her, as<hi rend="italic">Dian</hi>had hot dreames,</l>
      <l n="3329">And she alone, were cold: Whereat, I wretch</l>
      <l n="3330">Made scruple of his praise, and wager'd with him</l>
      <l n="3331">Peeces of Gold, 'gainst this, which then he wore</l>
      <l n="3332">Vpon his honour'd finger) to attaine</l>
      <l n="3333">In suite the place of's bed, and winne this Ring</l>
      <l n="3334">By hers, and mine Adultery: he (true Knight)</l>
      <l n="3335">No lesser of her Honour confident</l>
      <l n="3336">Then I did truly finde her, stakes this Ring,</l>
      <l n="3337">And would so, had it beene a Carbuncle</l>
      <l n="3338">Of Phœbus Wheele; and might so safely, had it</l>
      <l n="3339">Bin all the worth of's Carre. Away to Britaine</l>
      <l n="3340">Poste I in this designe: Well may you (Sir)</l>
      <l n="3341">Remember me at Court, where I was taught</l>
      <l n="3342">Of your chaste Daughter, the wide difference</l>
      <l n="3343">'Twixt Amorous, and Villanous. Being thus quench'd</l>
      <l n="3344">Of hope, not longing; mine Italian braine,</l>
      <l n="3345">Gan in your duller Britaine operare</l>
      <l n="3346">Most vildely: for my vantage excellent.</l>
      <l n="3347">And to be breefe, my practise so preuayl'd</l>
      <l n="3348">That I return'd with simular proofe enough,</l>
      <l n="3349">To make the Noble<hi rend="italic">Leonatus</hi>mad,</l>
      <l n="3350">By wounding his beleefe in her Renowne,</l>
      <l n="3351">With Tokens thus, and thus: auerring notes</l>
      <l n="3352">Of Chamber‑hanging, Pictures, this her Bracelet</l>
      <l n="3353">(Oh cunning how I got) nay some markes</l>
      <l n="3354">Of secret on her person, that he could not</l>
      <l n="3355">But thinke her bond of Chastity quite crack'd,</l>
      <l n="3356">I hauing 'tane the forfeyt. Whereupon,</l>
      <l n="3357">Me thinkes I see him now.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <l n="3358">I so thou do'st,</l>
      <l n="3359">Italian Fiend. Aye me, most credulous Foole,</l>
      <l n="3360">Egregious murtherer, Theefe, any thing</l>
      <l n="3361">That's due to all the Villaines past, in being</l>
      <l n="3362">To come. Oh giue me Cord, or knife, or poyson,</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0907-0.jpg" n="397"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="3363">Some vpright Iusticer. Thou King, send out</l>
      <l n="3364">For Torturors ingenious: it is I</l>
      <l n="3365">That all th'abhorred things o'th'earth amend</l>
      <l n="3366">By being worse then they. I am<hi rend="italic">Posthumus</hi>,</l>
      <l n="3367">That kill'd thy Daughter: Villain‑like, I lye,</l>
      <l n="3368">That caus'd a lesser villaine then my selfe,</l>
      <l n="3369">A sacrilegious Theefe to doo't. The Temple</l>
      <l n="3370">Of Vertue was she; yea, and she her selfe.</l>
      <l n="3371">Spit, and throw stones, cast myre vpon me, set</l>
      <l n="3372">The dogges o'th'street to bay me: euery villaine</l>
      <l n="3373">Be call'd<hi rend="italic">Posthumus Leonatus</hi>, and</l>
      <l n="3374">Be villany lesse then 'twas. Oh<hi rend="italic">Imogen</hi>!</l>
      <l n="3375">My Queene, my life, my wife: oh<hi rend="italic">Imogen</hi>,</l>
      <l n="3376">
         <hi rend="italic">Imogen, Imogen</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3377">Peace my Lord, heare, heare.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <l n="3378">Shall's haue a play of this?</l>
      <l n="3379">Thou scornfull Page, there lye thy part.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-pis">
      <speaker rend="italic">Pis.</speaker>
      <l n="3380">Oh Gentlemen, helpe,</l>
      <l n="3381">Mine and your Mistris: Oh my Lord<hi rend="italic">Posthumus</hi>,</l>
      <l n="3382">You ne're kill'd<hi rend="italic">Imogen</hi>till now: helpe, helpe,</l>
      <l n="3383">Mine honour'd Lady.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3384">Does the world go round?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Posth.</speaker>
      <l n="3385">How comes these staggers on mee?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-pis">
      <speaker rend="italic">Pisa.</speaker>
      <l n="3386">Wake my Mistris.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3387">If this be so, the Gods do meane to strike me</l>
      <l n="3388">To death, with mortall ioy.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-pis">
      <speaker rend="italic">Pisa.</speaker>
      <l n="3389">How fares my Mistris?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3390">Oh get thee from my sight,</l>
      <l n="3391">Thou gau'st me poyson: dangerous Fellow hence,</l>
      <l n="3392">Breath not where Princes are.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3393">The tune of<hi rend="italic">Imogen</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-pis">
      <speaker rend="italic">Pisæ.</speaker>
      <l n="3394">Lady, the Gods throw stones of sulpher on me, if</l>
      <l n="3395">That box I gaue you, was not thought by mee</l>
      <l n="3396">A precious thing, I had it from the Queene.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3397">New matter still.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3398">It poyson'd me.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Corn.</speaker>
      <l n="3399">Oh Gods!</l>
      <l n="3400">I left out one thing which the Queene confest,</l>
      <l n="3401">Which must approue thee honest. If<hi rend="italic">Pasanio</hi>
      </l>
      <l n="3402">Haue (said she) giuen his Mistris that Confection</l>
      <l n="3403">Which I gaue him for Cordiall, she is seru'd,</l>
      <l n="3404">As I would serue a Rat.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3405">What's this,<hi rend="italic">Cornelius</hi>?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Corn.</speaker>
      <l n="3406">The Queene (Sir) very oft importun'd me</l>
      <l n="3407">To temper poysons for her, still pretending</l>
      <l n="3408">The satisfaction of her knowledge, onely</l>
      <l n="3409">In killing Creatures vilde, as Cats and Dogges</l>
      <l n="3410">Of no esteeme. I dreading, that her purpose</l>
      <l n="3411">Was of more danger, did compound for her</l>
      <l n="3412">A certaine stuffe, which being tane, would cease</l>
      <l n="3413">The present powre of life, but in short time,</l>
      <l n="3414">All Offices of Nature, should againe</l>
      <l n="3415">Do their due Functions. Haue you tane of it?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3416">Most like I did, for I was dead.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3417">My Boyes, there was our error.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gui">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gui.</speaker>
      <l n="3418">This is sure<hi rend="italic">Fidele</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3419">Why did you throw your wedded Lady fro you<c rend="italic">?</c>
      </l>
      <l n="3420">Thinke that you are vpon a Rocke, and now</l>
      <l n="3421">Throw me againe.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <l n="3422">Hang there like fruite, my soule,</l>
      <l n="3423">Till the Tree dye.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3424">How now, my Flesh? my Childe?</l>
      <l n="3425">What, mak'st thou me a dullard in this Act?</l>
      <l n="3426">Wilt thou not speake to me?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3427">Your blessing, Sir.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3428">Though you did loue this youth, I blame ye not,</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="3429">You had a motiue for't.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3430">My teares that fall</l>
      <l n="3431">Proue holy‑water on thee;<hi rend="italic">Imogen</hi>,</l>
      <l n="3432">Thy Mothers dead.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3433">I am sorry for't, my Lord.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3434">Oh, she was naught; and long of her it was</l>
      <l n="3435">That we meet heere so strangely: but her Sonne</l>
      <l n="3436">Is gone, we know not how, nor where.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-pis">
      <speaker rend="italic">Pisa.</speaker>
      <l n="3437">My Lord,</l>
      <l n="3438">Now feare is from me, Ile speake troth. Lord<hi rend="italic">Cloten</hi>
      </l>
      <l n="3439">Vpon my Ladies missing, came to me</l>
      <l n="3440">With his Sword drawne, foam'd at the mouth, and swore</l>
      <l n="3441">If I discouer'd not which way she was gone,</l>
      <l n="3442">It was my instant death. By accident,</l>
      <l n="3443">I had a feigned Letter of my Masters</l>
      <l n="3444">Then in my pocket, which directed him</l>
      <l n="3445">To seeke her on the Mountaines neere to Milford,</l>
      <l n="3446">Where in a frenzie, in my Masters Garments</l>
      <l n="3447">(Which he inforc'd from me) away he postes</l>
      <l n="3448">With vnchaste purpose, and with oath to violate</l>
      <l n="3449">My Ladies honor, what became of him,</l>
      <l n="3450">I further know not.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gui">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gui.</speaker>
      <l n="3451">Let me end the Story: I slew him there.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3452">Marry, the Gods forefend.</l>
      <l n="3453">I would not thy good deeds, should from my lips</l>
      <l n="3454">Plucke a hard sentence: Prythee valiant youth</l>
      <l n="3455">Deny't againe.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gui">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gui.</speaker>
      <l n="3456">I haue spoke it, and I did it.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3457">He was a Prince.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gui">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gui.</speaker>
      <l n="3458">A most inciuill one. The wrongs he did mee</l>
      <l n="3459">Were nothing Prince‑like; for he did prouoke me</l>
      <l n="3460">With Language that would make me spurne the Sea,</l>
      <l n="3461">If it could so roare to me. I cut off's head,</l>
      <l n="3462">And am right glad he is not standing heere</l>
      <l n="3463">To tell this tale of mine.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3464">I am sorrow for thee:</l>
      <l n="3465">By thine owne tongue thou art condemn'd, and must</l>
      <l n="3466">Endure our Law: Thou'rt dead.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3467">That headlesse man I thought had bin my Lord</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3468">Binde the Offender,</l>
      <l n="3469">And take him from our presence.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3470">Stay, Sir King.</l>
      <l n="3471">This man is better then the man he slew,</l>
      <l n="3472">As well descended as thy selfe, and hath</l>
      <l n="3473">More of thee merited, then a Band of<hi rend="italic">Clotens</hi>
      </l>
      <l n="3474">Had euer scarre for. Let his Armes alone,</l>
      <l n="3475">They were not borne for bondage.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3476">Why old Soldier:</l>
      <l n="3477">Wilt thou vndoo the worth thou art vnpayd for</l>
      <l n="3478">By tasting of our wrath? How of descent</l>
      <l n="3479">As good as we?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-arv">
      <speaker rend="italic">Arui.</speaker>
      <l n="3480">In that he spake too farre.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3481">And thou shalt dye for't.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3482">We will dye all three,</l>
      <l n="3483">But I will proue that two one's are as good</l>
      <l n="3484">As I haue giuen out him. My Sonnes, I must</l>
      <l n="3485">For mine owne part, vnfold a dangerous speech,</l>
      <l n="3486">Though haply well for you.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-arv">
      <speaker rend="italic">Arui.</speaker>
      <l n="3487">Your danger's ours.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gui">
      <speaker rend="italic">Guid.</speaker>
      <l n="3488">And our good his.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3489">Haue at it then, by leaue</l>
      <l n="3490">Thou hadd'st (great King) a Subiect, who</l>
      <l n="3491">Was call'd<hi rend="italic">Belarius</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3492">What of him? He is a banish'd Traitor.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3493">He it is, that hath</l>
      <l n="3494">Assum'd this age: indeed a banish'd man,</l>
      <note resp="#ES">This page has been torn and creased, obscuring any catchword.</note>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0908-0.jpg" n="398"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="3495">I know not how, a Traitor.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3496">Take him hence,</l>
      <l n="3497">The whole world shall not saue him.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3498">Not too hot;</l>
      <l n="3499">First pay me for the Nursing of thy Sonnes,</l>
      <l n="3500">And let it be confiscate all, so soone</l>
      <l n="3501">As I haue receyu'd it.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3502">Nursing of my Sonnes?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3503">I am too blunt, and sawcy: heere's my knee:</l>
      <l n="3504">Ere I arise, I will preferre my Sonnes,</l>
      <l n="3505">Then spare not the old Father. Mighty Sir,</l>
      <l n="3506">These two young Gentlemen that call me Father,</l>
      <l n="3507">And thinke they are my Sonnes, are none of mine,</l>
      <l n="3508">They are the yssue of your Loynes, my Liege,</l>
      <l n="3509">And blood of your begetting.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3510">How? my Issue.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3511">So sure as you, your Fathers: I (old<hi rend="italic">Morgan</hi>)</l>
      <l n="3512">Am that<hi rend="italic">Belarius</hi>, whom you sometime banish'd:</l>
      <l n="3513">Your pleasure was my neere offence, my punishment</l>
      <l n="3514">It selfe, and all my Treason that I suffer'd,</l>
      <l n="3515">Was all the harme I did. These gentle Princes</l>
      <l n="3516">(For such, and so they are) these twenty yeares</l>
      <l n="3517">Haue I train'd vp; those Arts they haue, as I</l>
      <l n="3518">Could put into them. My breeding was (Sir)</l>
      <l n="3519">As your Highnesse knowes: Their Nurse<hi rend="italic">Euriphile</hi>
      </l>
      <l n="3520">(Whom for the Theft I wedded) stole these Children</l>
      <l n="3521">Vpon my Banishment: I moou'd her too't,</l>
      <l n="3522">Hauing receyu'd the punishment before</l>
      <l n="3523">For that which I did then. Beaten for Loyaltie,</l>
      <l n="3524">Excited me to Treason. Their deere losse,</l>
      <l n="3525">The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shap'd</l>
      <l n="3526">Vnto my end of stealing them. But gracious Sir,</l>
      <l n="3527">Heere are your Sonnes againe, and I must loose</l>
      <l n="3528">Two of the sweet'st Companions in the World.</l>
      <l n="3529">The benediction of these couering Heauens</l>
      <l n="3530">Fall on their heads like dew, for they are worthie</l>
      <l n="3531">To in‑lay Heauen with Starres.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3532">Thou weep'st, and speak'st:</l>
      <l n="3533">The Seruice that you three haue done, is m<gap extent="1"
              unit="chars"
              reason="illegible"
              agent="inkBlot"
              resp="#ES"/>re</l>
      <l n="3534">Vnlike, then this thou tell'st. I lost my Children,</l>
      <l n="3535">If these be they, I know not how to wish</l>
      <l n="3536">A payre of worthier Sonnes.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3537">Be pleas'd awhile;</l>
      <l n="3538">This Gentleman, whom I call<hi rend="italic">Polidore</hi>,</l>
      <l n="3539">Most worthy Prince, as yours, is true<hi rend="italic">Guiderius</hi>:</l>
      <l n="3540">This Gentleman, my<hi rend="italic">Cadwall, Aruiragus</hi>.</l>
      <l n="3541">Your yonger Princely Son, he Sir, was lapt</l>
      <l n="3542">In a most curious Mantle, wrought by th'hand</l>
      <l n="3543">Of his Queene Mother, which for more probation</l>
      <l n="3544">I can with ease produce.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3545">
         <hi rend="italic">Guiderius</hi>had</l>
      <l n="3546">Vpon his necke a Mole, a sanguine Starre,</l>
      <l n="3547">It was a marke of wonder.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-bel">
      <speaker rend="italic">Bel.</speaker>
      <l n="3548">This is he,</l>
      <l n="3549">Who hath vpon him still that naturall stampe:</l>
      <l n="3550">It was wise Natures end, in the donation</l>
      <l n="3551">To be his euidence now.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3552">Oh, what am I</l>
      <l n="3553">A Mother to the byrth of three? Nere Mother</l>
      <l n="3554">Reioyc'd deliuerance more: Blest, pray you be,</l>
      <l n="3555">That after this strange starting from your Orbes,</l>
      <l n="3556">You may reigne in them now: Oh<hi rend="italic">Imogen</hi>,</l>
      <l n="3557">Thou hast lost by this a Kingdome.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3558">No, my Lord:</l>
      <l n="3559">I haue got two Worlds by't. Oh my gentle Brothers,</l>
      <l n="3560">Haue we thus met? Oh neuer say heereafter</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="3561">But I am truest speaker. You call'd me Brother</l>
      <l n="3562">When I was but your Sister: I you Brothers,</l>
      <l n="3563">When we were so indeed.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3564">Did you ere meete?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-arv">
      <speaker rend="italic">Arui.</speaker>
      <l n="3565">I my good Lord.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-gui">
      <speaker rend="italic">Gui.</speaker>
      <l n="3566">And at first meeting lou'd,</l>
      <l n="3567">Continew'd so, vntill we thought he dyed.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Corn.</speaker>
      <l n="3568">By the Queenes Dramme she swallow'd.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3569">O rare instinct!</l>
      <l n="3570">When shall I heare all through? This fierce abridgment,</l>
      <l n="3571">Hath to it Circumstantiall branches, which</l>
      <l n="3572">Distinction should be rich in. Where? how liu'd you?</l>
      <l n="3573">And when came you to serue our Romane Captiue?</l>
      <l n="3574">How parted with your Brother? How first met them?</l>
      <l n="3575">Why fled you from the Court? And whether these?</l>
      <l n="3576">And your three motiues to the Battaile? with</l>
      <l n="3577">I know not how much more should be demanded,</l>
      <l n="3578">And all the other by‑dependances</l>
      <l n="3579">From chance to chance? But nor the Time, nor Place</l>
      <l n="3580">Will serue our long Interrogatories. See,</l>
      <l n="3581">
         <hi rend="italic">Posthumus</hi>Anchors vpon<hi rend="italic">Imogen</hi>;</l>
      <l n="3582">And she (like harmlesse Lightning) throwes her eye</l>
      <l n="3583">On him: her Brothers, Me: her Master hitting</l>
      <l n="3584">Each obiect with a Ioy: the Counter‑change</l>
      <l n="3585">Is seuerally in all. Let's quit this ground,</l>
      <l n="3586">And smoake the Temple with our Sacrifices.</l>
      <l n="3587">Thou art my Brother, so wee'l hold thee euer.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3588">You are my Father too, and did releeue me:</l>
      <l n="3589">To see this gracious season.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3590">All ore‑ioy'd</l>
      <l n="3591">Saue these in bonds, let them be ioyfull too,</l>
      <l n="3592">For they shall taste our Comfort.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="3593">My good Master, I will yet do you seruice.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-luc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Luc.</speaker>
      <l n="3594">Happy be you.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3595">The forlorne Souldier, that so Nobly fought</l>
      <l n="3596">He would haue well becom'd this place, and grac'd</l>
      <l n="3597">The thankings of a King.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <l n="3598">I am Sir</l>
      <l n="3599">The Souldier that did company these three</l>
      <l n="3600">In poore beseeming: 'twas a fitment for</l>
      <l n="3601">The purpose I then follow'd. That I was he,</l>
      <l n="3602">Speake<hi rend="italic">Iachimo</hi>, I had you downe, and might</l>
      <l n="3603">Haue made you finish.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-iac">
      <speaker rend="italic">Iach.</speaker>
      <l n="3604">I am downe againe:</l>
      <l n="3605">But now my heauie Conscience sinkes my knee,</l>
      <l n="3606">As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you</l>
      <l n="3607">Which I so often owe: but your Ring first,</l>
      <l n="3608">And heere the Bracelet of the truest Princesse</l>
      <l n="3609">That euer swore her Faith.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <l n="3610">Kneele not to me:</l>
      <l n="3611">The powre that I haue on you, is to spare you:</l>
      <l n="3612">The malice towards you, to forgiue you. Liue</l>
      <l n="3613">And deale with others better.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3614">Nobly doom'd:</l>
      <l n="3615">Wee'l learne our Freenesse of a Sonne‑in‑Law:</l>
      <l n="3616">Pardon's the word to all.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-arv">
      <speaker rend="italic">Arui.</speaker>
      <l n="3617">You holpe vs Sir,</l>
      <l n="3618">As you did meane indeed to be our Brother,</l>
      <l n="3619">Ioy'd are we, that you are.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-leo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Post.</speaker>
      <l n="3620">Your Seruant Princes. Good my Lord of Rome</l>
      <l n="3621">Call forth your Sooth‑sayer: As I slept, me thought</l>
      <l n="3622">Great Iupiter vpon his Eagle back'd</l>
      <l n="3623">Appear'd to me, with other sprightly shewes</l>
      <l n="3624">Of mine owne Kindred. When I wak'd, I found</l>
      <l n="3625">This Labell on my bosome; whose containing</l>
      <l n="3626">Is so from sense in hardnesse, that I can</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0909-0.jpg" n="993"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="3627">Make no Collection of it. Let him shew</l>
      <l n="3628">His skill in the construction.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-luc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Luc.</speaker>
      <l rend="italic" n="3629">Philarmonus.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-soo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Sooth.</speaker>
      <l n="3630">Heere, my good Lord.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-luc">
      <speaker rend="italic">Luc.</speaker>
      <l n="3631">Read, and declare the meaning.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="business">Reades.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-soo">
      <p rend="italic" n="3632">
         <c rend="droppedCapital">W</c>Hen as a Lyons whelpe, shall to himselfe vnknown, with­
      <lb n="3633"/>out seeking finde, and bee embrac'd by a peece of tender
      <lb n="3634"/>Ayre: And when from a stately Cedar shall be lopt branches,
      <lb n="3635"/>which being dead many yeares, shall after reuiue, bee ioynted to
      <lb n="3636"/>the old Stocke, and freshly grow, then shall Posthumus end his
      <lb n="3637"/>miseries, Britaine be fortunate, and flourish in Peace and Plen­
      <lb n="3638"/>tie.</p>
      <l n="3639">Thou<hi rend="italic">Leonatus</hi>art the Lyons Whelpe,</l>
      <l n="3640">The fit and apt Construction of thy name</l>
      <l n="3641">Being<hi rend="italic">Leonatus</hi>, doth import so much:</l>
      <l n="3642">The peece of tender Ayre, thy vertuous Daughter,</l>
      <l n="3643">Which we call<hi rend="italic">Mollis Aer</hi>, and<hi rend="italic">Mollis Aer</hi>
      </l>
      <l n="3644">We terme it<hi rend="italic">Mulier</hi>; which<hi rend="italic">Mulier</hi>I diuine</l>
      <l n="3645">Is this most constant Wife, who euen now</l>
      <l n="3646">Answering the Letter of the Oracle,</l>
      <l n="3647">Vnknowne to you vnsought, were clipt about</l>
      <l n="3648">With this most tender Aire.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3649">This hath some seeming.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-soo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Sooth.</speaker>
      <l n="3650">The lofty Cedar, Royall<hi rend="italic">Cymbeline</hi>
      </l>
      <l n="3651">Personates thee: And thy lopt Branches, point</l>
      <l n="3652">Thy two Sonnes forth: who by<hi rend="italic">Belarius</hi>stolne</l>
      <l n="3653">For many yeares thought dead, are now reuiu'd</l>
      <l n="3654">To the Maiesticke Cedar ioyn'd; whose Issue</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="3655">Promises Britaine, Peace and Plenty.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3656">Well,</l>
      <l n="3657">My Peace we will begin: And<hi rend="italic">Caius Lucius</hi>,</l>
      <l n="3658">Although the Victor, we submit to<hi rend="italic">Cæsar</hi>,</l>
      <l n="3659">And to the Romane Empire; promising</l>
      <l n="3660">To pay our wonted Tribute, from the which</l>
      <l n="3661">We were disswaded by our wicked Queene,</l>
      <l n="3662">Whom heauens in Iustice both on her, and hers,</l>
      <l n="3663">Haue laid most heauy hand.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-soo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Sooth.</speaker>
      <l n="3664">The fingers of the Powres aboue, do tune</l>
      <l n="3665">The harmony of this Peace: the Vision</l>
      <l n="3666">Which I made knowne to<hi rend="italic">Lucius</hi>ere the stroke</l>
      <l n="3667">Of yet this scarse‑cold‑Battaile, at this instant</l>
      <l n="3668">Is full accomplish'd. For the Romaine Eagle</l>
      <l n="3669">From South to West, on wing soaring aloft</l>
      <l n="3670">Lessen'd her selfe, and in the Beames o'th'Sun</l>
      <l n="3671">So vanish'd; which fore‑shew'd our Princely Eagle</l>
      <l n="3672">Th'Imperiall Cæsar, should againe vnite</l>
      <l n="3673">His Fauour, with the Radiant<hi rend="italic">Cymbeline</hi>,</l>
      <l n="3674">Which shines heere in the West.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="3675">Laud we the Gods,</l>
      <l n="3676">And let our crooked Smoakes climbe to their Nostrils</l>
      <l n="3677">From our blest Altars. Publish we this Peace</l>
      <l n="3678">To all our Subiects. Set we forward: Let</l>
      <l n="3679">A Roman, and a Brittish Ensigne waue</l>
      <l n="3680">Friendly together: so through<hi rend="italic">Luds‑Towne</hi>march,</l>
      <l n="3681">And in the Temple of great Iupiter</l>
      <l n="3682">Our Peace wee'l ratifie: Seale it with Feasts.</l>
      <l n="3683">Set on there: Neuer was a Warre did cease</l>
      <l n="3684">(Ere bloodie hands were wash'd) with such a Peace.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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