The Bodleian First Folio

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Reference: aaa1r - Tragedies, p. 377

Left Column


The Tragedie of Cymbeline.
[935]

Winning will put any man into courage: if I could get

this foolish Imogen, I should haue Gold enough: it's al­

most morning, is't not?

1

Day, my Lord.

Clot.

I would this Musicke would come: I am adui­

[940]

sed to giue her Musicke a mornings, they say it will pene­

trate.

Enter Musitians.

Come on, tune: If you can penetrate her with your fin­

gering, so: wee'l try with tongue too: if none will do, let

her remaine: but Ile neuer giue o're. First, a very excel­

[945]

lent good conceyted thing; after a wonderful sweet aire,

with admirable rich words to it, and then let her consi­

der.

SONG. Hearke, hearke, the Larke at Heauens gate sings, and Phœbus gins arise,
[950]
His Steeds to water at those Springs on chalic'd Flowres that lyes: And winking Mary‑buds begin to ope their Golden eyes With euery thing that pretty is, my Lady sweet arise: Arise, arise.
[955]

So, get you gone: if this pen trate, I will consider your

Musicke the better: if it do not, it is a voyce in her eares

which Horse‑haires, and Calues‑guts, nor the voyce of

vnpaued Eunuch to boot, can neuer amed.

Enter Cymbaline, and Queene. 2

Heere comes the King.

Clot.
[960]

I am glad I was vp so late, for that's the reason

I was vp fo so earely: he cannot choose but take this Ser­

uice I haue done, fatherly. Good morrow to your Ma­

iesty, and to my gracious Mother.

Cym. Attend you here the doore of our stern daughter
[965]
Will she not forth?
Clot.

I haue assayl'd her with Musickes, but she vouch­

safes no notice.

Cym. The Exile of her Minion is too new, She hath not yet forgot him, some more time
[970]
Must weare the print of his remembrance on't, And then she's yours.
Qu. You are most bound t/o'th'King, Who let's go by no vantages, that may Preferre you to his daughter: Frame your selfe
[975]
To orderly solicity, and be friended With aptnesse of the season: make denials Encrease your Seruices: so seeme, as if You were inspir'd to do those duties which You tender to her: that you in all obey her,
[980]
Saue when command to your dismission tends, And therein you are senselesse.
Clot.

Senselesse? Not so.

Mes. So like you (Sir) Ambassadors from Rome; The one is Caius Lucius. Cym.
[985]
A worthy Fellow, Albeit he comes on angry purpose now; But that's no fault of his: we must receyue him According to the Honor of his Sender, And towards himselfe, his goodnesse fore‑spent on vs
[990]
We must extend our notice: Our deere Sonne, When you haue giuen good morning to your Mistris, Attend the Queene, and vs, we shall haue neede T'employ you towards this Romane. Come our Queene.
Exeunt. Clot.
[995]
If she be vp, Ile speake with her: if not Let her lye still, and dreame: by your leaue hoa, I know her women are about her: what

Image


[full image]

Right Column


If I do line one of their hands, 'tis Gold Which buyes admittance (oft it doth) yea, and makes
[1000]
Diana's Rangers false themselues, yeeld vp Their Deere to'th'stand o'th'Stealer: and 'tis Gold Which makes the True‑man kill'd, and saues the Theefe: Nay, sometime hangs both Theefe, and True‑man: what Can it not do, and vndoo? I will make
[1005]
One of her women Lawyer to me, for I yet not vnderstand the case my selfe. By your leaue.
Knockes. Enter a Lady. La. Who's there that knockes? Clot. A Gentleman. La.
[1010]
No more.
Clot. Yes, and a Gentlewomans Sonne. La. That's more Then some whose Taylors are as deere as yours, Can iustly boast of: what's your Lordships pleasure? Clot.
[1015]
Your Ladies person, is she ready?
La. I, to keepe her Chamber. Clot. There is Gold for you, Sell me your good report. La. How, my good name? or to report of you
[1020]
What I shall thinke is good. The Princesse.
Enter Imogen. Clot. Good morrow fairest, Sister your sweet hand. Imo. Good morrow Sir, you lay out too much paines For purchasing but trouble: the thankes I giue, Is telling you that I am poore of thankes,
[1025]
And scarse can spare them.
Clot. Still I sweare I loue you. Imo. If you but said so, 'twere as deepe with me: If you sweare still, your recompence is still That I regard it not. Clot.
[1030]
This is no answer.
Imo. But that you shall not say, I yeeld being silent, I would not speake. I pray you spare me, 'faith I shall vnfold equall discourtesie To your best kindnesse: one of your great knowing
[1035]
Should learne (being taught) forbearance.
Clot. To leaue you in your madnesse, 'twere my sin, I will not. Imo. Fooles are not mad Folkes. Clot. Do you call me Foole? Imo.
[1040]
As I am mad I do: If you'l be patient, Ile no more be mad, That cures vs both. I am much sorry (Sir) You put me to forget a Ladies manners By being so verball: and learne now, for all,
[1045]
That I which know my heart, do heere pronounce By th'very truth of it, I care not for you, And am so neere the lacke of Charitie To accuse my selfe, I hate you: which I had rather You felt, then make't my boast.
Clot.
[1050]
You sinne against Obedience, which you owe your Father, for The Contract you pretend with that base Wretch, One, bred of Almes, and foster'd with cold dishes, With scraps o'th'Court: It is no Contract, none;
[1055]
And though it be allowed in meaner parties (Yet who then he more meane) to knit their soules (On whom there is no more dependancie But Brats and Beggery) in selfe‑figur'd knot, Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement, by aaa The

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Scena Tertia. [Act 2, Scene 3] Enter Clotten, and Lords. 1.

Your Lordship is the most patient man in losse, the

[930]

most coldest that euer turn'd vp Ace.

Clot.

It would make any man cold to loose.

1.

But not euery man patient after the noble temper

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

you winne.

[935]

Winning will put any man into courage: if I could get

this foolish Imogen, I should haue Gold enough: it's al­

most morning, is't not?

1

Day, my Lord.

Clot.

I would this Musicke would come: I am adui­

[940]

sed to giue her Musicke a mornings, they say it will pene­

trate.

Enter Musitians.

Come on, tune: If you can penetrate her with your fin­

gering, so: wee'l try with tongue too: if none will do, let

her remaine: but Ile neuer giue o're. First, a very excel­

[945]

lent good conceyted thing; after a wonderful sweet aire,

with admirable rich words to it, and then let her consi­

der.

SONG. Hearke, hearke, the Larke at Heauens gate sings, and Phœbus gins arise,
[950]
His Steeds to water at those Springs on chalic'd Flowres that lyes: And winking Mary‑buds begin to ope their Golden eyes With euery thing that pretty is, my Lady sweet arise: Arise, arise.
[955]

So, get you gone: if this pen trate, I will consider your

Musicke the better: if it do not, it is a voyce in her eares

which Horse‑haires, and Calues‑guts, nor the voyce of

vnpaued Eunuch to boot, can neuer amed.

Enter Cymbaline, and Queene. 2

Heere comes the King.

Clot.
[960]

I am glad I was vp so late, for that's the reason

I was vp fo so earely: he cannot choose but take this Ser­

uice I haue done, fatherly. Good morrow to your Ma­

iesty, and to my gracious Mother.

Cym. Attend you here the doore of our stern daughter
[965]
Will she not forth?
Clot.

I haue assayl'd her with Musickes, but she vouch­

safes no notice.

Cym. The Exile of her Minion is too new, She hath not yet forgot him, some more time
[970]
Must weare the print of his remembrance on't, And then she's yours.
Qu. You are most bound t/o'th'King, Who let's go by no vantages, that may Preferre you to his daughter: Frame your selfe
[975]
To orderly solicity, and be friended With aptnesse of the season: make denials Encrease your Seruices: so seeme, as if You were inspir'd to do those duties which You tender to her: that you in all obey her,
[980]
Saue when command to your dismission tends, And therein you are senselesse.
Clot.

Senselesse? Not so.

Mes. So like you (Sir) Ambassadors from Rome; The one is Caius Lucius. Cym.
[985]
A worthy Fellow, Albeit he comes on angry purpose now; But that's no fault of his: we must receyue him According to the Honor of his Sender, And towards himselfe, his goodnesse fore‑spent on vs
[990]
We must extend our notice: Our deere Sonne, When you haue giuen good morning to your Mistris, Attend the Queene, and vs, we shall haue neede T'employ you towards this Romane. Come our Queene.
Exeunt. Clot.
[995]
If she be vp, Ile speake with her: if not Let her lye still, and dreame: by your leaue hoa, I know her women are about her: what If I do line one of their hands, 'tis Gold Which buyes admittance (oft it doth) yea, and makes
[1000]
Diana's Rangers false themselues, yeeld vp Their Deere to'th'stand o'th'Stealer: and 'tis Gold Which makes the True‑man kill'd, and saues the Theefe: Nay, sometime hangs both Theefe, and True‑man: what Can it not do, and vndoo? I will make
[1005]
One of her women Lawyer to me, for I yet not vnderstand the case my selfe. By your leaue.
Knockes. Enter a Lady. La. Who's there that knockes? Clot. A Gentleman. La.
[1010]
No more.
Clot. Yes, and a Gentlewomans Sonne. La. That's more Then some whose Taylors are as deere as yours, Can iustly boast of: what's your Lordships pleasure? Clot.
[1015]
Your Ladies person, is she ready?
La. I, to keepe her Chamber. Clot. There is Gold for you, Sell me your good report. La. How, my good name? or to report of you
[1020]
What I shall thinke is good. The Princesse.
Enter Imogen. Clot. Good morrow fairest, Sister your sweet hand. Imo. Good morrow Sir, you lay out too much paines For purchasing but trouble: the thankes I giue, Is telling you that I am poore of thankes,
[1025]
And scarse can spare them.
Clot. Still I sweare I loue you. Imo. If you but said so, 'twere as deepe with me: If you sweare still, your recompence is still That I regard it not. Clot.
[1030]
This is no answer.
Imo. But that you shall not say, I yeeld being silent, I would not speake. I pray you spare me, 'faith I shall vnfold equall discourtesie To your best kindnesse: one of your great knowing
[1035]
Should learne (being taught) forbearance.
Clot. To leaue you in your madnesse, 'twere my sin, I will not. Imo. Fooles are not mad Folkes. Clot. Do you call me Foole? Imo.
[1040]
As I am mad I do: If you'l be patient, Ile no more be mad, That cures vs both. I am much sorry (Sir) You put me to forget a Ladies manners By being so verball: and learne now, for all,
[1045]
That I which know my heart, do heere pronounce By th'very truth of it, I care not for you, And am so neere the lacke of Charitie To accuse my selfe, I hate you: which I had rather You felt, then make't my boast.
Clot.
[1050]
You sinne against Obedience, which you owe your Father, for The Contract you pretend with that base Wretch, One, bred of Almes, and foster'd with cold dishes, With scraps o'th'Court: It is no Contract, none;
[1055]
And though it be allowed in meaner parties (Yet who then he more meane) to knit their soules (On whom there is no more dependancie But Brats and Beggery) in selfe‑figur'd knot, Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement, by
[1060]
The consequence o'th'Crowne, and must not foyle The precious note of it; with a base Slaue, A Hilding for a Liuorie, a Squires Cloth, A Pantler; not so eminent.
Imo. Prophane Fellow:
[1065]
Wert thou the Sonne of Iupiter, and no more, But what thou art besides: thou wer't too base, To be his Groome: thou wer't dignified enough Euen to the point of Enuie. If 'twere made Comparatiue for your Vertues, to be stil'd
[1070]
The vnder Hangman of his Kingdome; and hated For being prefer'd so well.
Clot. The South‑Fog rot him. Imo. He neuer can meete more mischance, then come To be but nam'd of thee. His mean'st Garment
[1075]
That euer hath but clipt his body; is dearer In my respect, then all the Heires aboue thee, Were they all made such men: How now Pisanio?
Enter Pisanio, Clot. His Garments? Now the diuell. Imo. To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently. Clot.
[1080]
His Garment?
Imo. I am sprighted with a Foole, Frighted, and angred worse: Go bid my woman Search for a Iewell, that too casually Hath left mine Arme: it was thy Masters. Shrew me
[1085]
If I would loose it for a Reuenew, Of any Kings in Europe. I do think, I saw't this morning: Confident I am. Last night 'twas on mine Arme; I kiss'd it, I hope it be not gone, to tell my Lord
[1090]
That I kisse aught but he.
Pis. 'Twill not be lost. Imo. I hope so: go and search. Clot. You haue abus'd me: His meanest Garment? Imo.
[1095]
I, I said so Sir, If you will make't an Action, call witnesse to't.
Clot. I will enforme your Father. Imo. Your Mother too: She's my good Lady; and will concieue, I hope
[1100]
But the worst of me. So I leaue you Sir, To'th'worst of discontent.
Exit. Clot. Ile be reueng'd: His mean'st Garment? Well. Exit.
 

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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="3">
   <head rend="italic center">Scena Tertia.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 2, Scene 3]</head>
   <stage rend="center" type="entrance">Enter Clotten, and Lords.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.1">
      <speaker>1.</speaker>
      <p n="929">Your Lordship is the most patient man in losse, the
      <lb n="930"/>most coldest that euer turn'd vp Ace.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <p n="931">It would make any man cold to loose.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.1">
      <speaker>1.</speaker>
      <p n="932">But not euery man patient after the noble temper
      <lb n="933"/>of your Lordship; You are most hot, and furious when
      <lb n="934"/>you winne.</p>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0887-0.jpg" n="377"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <p n="935">Winning will put any man into courage: if I could get
      <lb n="936"/>this foolish<hi rend="italic">Imogen</hi>, I should haue Gold enough: it's al­
      <lb n="937"/>most morning, is't not?</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.1">
      <speaker>1</speaker>
      <p n="938">Day, my Lord.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <p n="939">I would this Musicke would come: I am adui­
      <lb n="940"/>sed to giue her Musicke a mornings, they say it will pene­
      <lb n="941"/>trate.</p>
      <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Musitians.</stage>
      <p n="942">Come on, tune: If you can penetrate her with your fin­
      <lb n="943"/>gering, so: wee'l try with tongue too: if none will do, let
      <lb n="944"/>her remaine: but Ile neuer giue o're. First, a very excel­
      <lb n="945"/>lent good conceyted thing; after a wonderful sweet aire,
      <lb n="946"/>with admirable rich words to it, and then let her consi­
      <lb n="947"/>der.</p>
      <stage rend="italic center" type="business">SONG.</stage>
      <lg>
         <l rend="italic" n="948">Hearke, hearke, the Larke at Heauens gate sings,</l>
         <l rend="italic" n="949">and Phœbus gins arise,</l>
         <l rend="italic" n="950">His Steeds to water at those Springs</l>
         <l rend="italic" n="951">on chalic'd Flowres that lyes:</l>
         <l rend="italic" n="952">And winking Mary‑buds begin to ope their Golden eyes</l>
         <l rend="italic" n="953">With euery thing that pretty is, my Lady sweet arise:</l>
         <l rend="italic" n="954">Arise, arise.</l>
      </lg>
      <p n="955">So, get you gone: if this pen<gap extent="1"
              unit="chars"
              reason="illegible"
              agent="uninkedType"
              resp="#ES"/>trate, I will consider your
      <lb n="956"/>Musicke the better: if it do not, it is a voyce in her eares
      <lb n="957"/>which Horse‑haires, and Calues‑guts, nor the voyce of
      <lb n="958"/>vnpaued Eunuch to boot, can neuer amed.</p>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Cymbaline, and Queene.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lor.2">
      <speaker>2</speaker>
      <p n="959">Heere comes the King.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <p n="960">I am glad I was vp so late, for that's the reason
      <lb n="961"/>I was vp<choice>
            <orig>fo</orig>
            <corr>so</corr>
         </choice>earely: he cannot choose but take this Ser­
      <lb n="962"/>uice I haue done, fatherly. Good morrow to your Ma­
      <lb n="963"/>iesty, and to my gracious Mother.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="964">Attend you here the doore of our stern daughter</l>
      <l n="965">Will she not forth?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <p n="966">I haue assayl'd her with Musickes, but she vouch­
      <lb n="967"/>safes no notice.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="968">The Exile of her Minion is too new,</l>
      <l n="969">She hath not yet forgot him, some more time</l>
      <l n="970">Must weare the print of his remembrance on't,</l>
      <l n="971">And then she's yours.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-que">
      <speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
      <l n="972">You are most bound t/o'th'King,</l>
      <l n="973">Who let's go by no vantages, that may</l>
      <l n="974">Preferre you to his daughter: Frame your selfe</l>
      <l n="975">To orderly solicity, and be friended</l>
      <l n="976">With aptnesse of the season: make denials</l>
      <l n="977">Encrease your Seruices: so seeme, as if</l>
      <l n="978">You were inspir'd to do those duties which</l>
      <l n="979">You tender to her: that you in all obey her,</l>
      <l n="980">Saue when command to your dismission tends,</l>
      <l n="981">And therein you are senselesse.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <p n="982">Senselesse? Not so.</p>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-mes">
      <speaker rend="italic">Mes.</speaker>
      <l n="983">So like you (Sir) Ambassadors from Rome;</l>
      <l n="984">The one is<hi rend="italic">Caius Lucius</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-cym">
      <speaker rend="italic">Cym.</speaker>
      <l n="985">A worthy Fellow,</l>
      <l n="986">Albeit he comes on angry purpose now;</l>
      <l n="987">But that's no fault of his: we must receyue him</l>
      <l n="988">According to the Honor of his Sender,</l>
      <l n="989">And towards himselfe, his goodnesse fore‑spent on vs</l>
      <l n="990">We must extend our notice: Our deere Sonne,</l>
      <l n="991">When you haue giuen good morning to your Mistris,</l>
      <l n="992">Attend the Queene, and vs, we shall haue neede</l>
      <l n="993">T'employ you towards<gap extent="1"
              unit="chars"
              reason="nonstandardCharacter"
              agent="inkedSpacemarker"
              resp="#ES"/>this Romane.</l>
      <l n="994">Come our Queene.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="995">If she be vp, Ile speake with her: if not</l>
      <l n="996">Let her lye still, and dreame: by your leaue hoa,</l>
      <l n="997">I know her women are about her: what</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="998">If I do line one of their hands, 'tis Gold</l>
      <l n="999">Which buyes admittance (oft it doth) yea, and makes</l>
      <l n="1000">
         <hi rend="italic">Diana</hi>'s Rangers false themselues, yeeld vp</l>
      <l n="1001">Their Deere to'th'stand o'th'Stealer: and 'tis Gold</l>
      <l n="1002">Which makes the True‑man kill'd, and saues the Theefe:</l>
      <l n="1003">Nay, sometime hangs both Theefe, and True‑man: what</l>
      <l n="1004">Can it not do, and vndoo? I will make</l>
      <l n="1005">One of her women Lawyer to me, for</l>
      <l n="1006">I yet not vnderstand the case my selfe.</l>
      <l n="1007">By your leaue.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Knockes.</stage>
   <stage rend="center" type="entrance">Enter a Lady.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lad">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <l n="1008">Who's there that knockes?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1009">A Gentleman.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lad">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <l n="1010">No more.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1011">Yes, and a Gentlewomans Sonne.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lad">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <l n="1012">That's more</l>
      <l n="1013">Then some whose Taylors are as deere as yours,</l>
      <l n="1014">Can iustly boast of: what's your Lordships pleasure?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1015">Your Ladies person, is she ready?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lad">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <l n="1016">I, to keepe her Chamber.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1017">There is Gold for you,</l>
      <l n="1018">Sell me your good report.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-lad">
      <speaker rend="italic">La.</speaker>
      <l n="1019">How, my good name? or to report of you</l>
      <l n="1020">What I shall thinke is good. The Princesse.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Imogen.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1021">Good morrow fairest, Sister your sweet hand.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="1022">Good morrow Sir, you lay out too much paines</l>
      <l n="1023">For purchasing but trouble: the thankes I giue,</l>
      <l n="1024">Is telling you that I am poore of thankes,</l>
      <l n="1025">And scarse can spare them.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1026">Still I sweare I loue you.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="1027">If you but said so, 'twere as deepe with me:</l>
      <l n="1028">If you sweare still, your recompence is still</l>
      <l n="1029">That I regard it not.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1030">This is no answer.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="1031">But that you shall not say, I yeeld being silent,</l>
      <l n="1032">I would not speake. I pray you spare me, 'faith</l>
      <l n="1033">I shall vnfold equall discourtesie</l>
      <l n="1034">To your best kindnesse: one of your great knowing</l>
      <l n="1035">Should learne (being taught) forbearance.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1036">To leaue you in your madnesse, 'twere my sin,</l>
      <l n="1037">I will not.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="1038">Fooles are not mad Folkes.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1039">Do you call me Foole?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="1040">As I am mad I do:</l>
      <l n="1041">If you'l be patient, Ile no more be mad,</l>
      <l n="1042">That cures vs both. I am much sorry (Sir)</l>
      <l n="1043">You put me to forget a Ladies manners</l>
      <l n="1044">By being so verball: and learne now, for all,</l>
      <l n="1045">That I which know my heart, do heere pronounce</l>
      <l n="1046">By th'very truth of it, I care not for you,</l>
      <l n="1047">And am so neere the lacke of Charitie</l>
      <l n="1048">To accuse my selfe, I hate you: which I had rather</l>
      <l n="1049">You felt, then make't my boast.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1050">You sinne against</l>
      <l n="1051">Obedience, which you owe your Father, for</l>
      <l n="1052">The Contract you pretend with that base Wretch,</l>
      <l n="1053">One, bred of Almes, and foster'd with cold dishes,</l>
      <l n="1054">With scraps o'th'Court: It is no Contract, none;</l>
      <l n="1055">And though it be allowed in meaner parties</l>
      <l n="1056">(Yet who then he more meane) to knit their soules</l>
      <l n="1057">(On whom there is no more dependancie</l>
      <l n="1058">But Brats and Beggery) in selfe‑figur'd knot,</l>
      <l n="1059">Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement, by</l>
      <pb facs="FFimg:axc0888-0.jpg" n="378"/>
      <cb n="1"/>
      <l n="1060">The consequence o'th'Crowne, and must not foyle</l>
      <l n="1061">The precious note of it; with a base Slaue,</l>
      <l n="1062">A Hilding for a Liuorie, a Squires Cloth,</l>
      <l n="1063">A Pantler; not so eminent.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="1064">Prophane Fellow:</l>
      <l n="1065">Wert thou the Sonne of<hi rend="italic">Iupiter</hi>, and no more,</l>
      <l n="1066">But what thou art besides: thou wer't too base,</l>
      <l n="1067">To be his Groome: thou wer't dignified enough</l>
      <l n="1068">Euen to the point of Enuie. If 'twere made</l>
      <l n="1069">Comparatiue for your Vertues, to be stil'd</l>
      <l n="1070">The vnder Hangman of his Kingdome; and hated</l>
      <l n="1071">For being prefer'd so well.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1072">The South‑Fog rot him.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="1073">He neuer can meete more mischance, then come</l>
      <l n="1074">To be but nam'd of thee. His mean'st Garment</l>
      <l n="1075">That euer hath but clipt his body; is dearer</l>
      <l n="1076">In my respect, then all the Heires aboue thee,</l>
      <l n="1077">Were they all made such men: How now<hi rend="italic">Pisanio</hi>?</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Pisanio,</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1078">His Garments? Now the diuell.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="1079">To<hi rend="italic">Dorothy</hi>my woman hie thee presently.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1080">His Garment?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="1081">I am sprighted with a Foole,</l>
      <l n="1082">Frighted, and angred worse: Go bid my woman</l>
      <l n="1083">Search for a Iewell, that too casually</l>
      <l n="1084">Hath left mine Arme: it was thy Masters. Shrew me</l>
      <l n="1085">If I would loose it for a Reuenew,</l>
      <l n="1086">Of any Kings in Europe. I do think,</l>
      <l n="1087">I saw't this morning: Confident I am.</l>
      <l n="1088">Last night 'twas on mine Arme; I kiss'd it,</l>
      <l n="1089">I hope it be not gone, to tell my Lord</l>
      <l n="1090">That I kisse aught but he.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-pis">
      <speaker rend="italic">Pis.</speaker>
      <l n="1091">'Twill not be lost.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="1092">I hope so: go and search.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1093">You haue abus'd me:</l>
      <l n="1094">His meanest Garment?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="1095">I, I said so Sir,</l>
      <l n="1096">If you will make't an Action, call witnesse to't.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1097">I will enforme your Father.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-cym-imo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Imo.</speaker>
      <l n="1098">Your Mother too:</l>
      <l n="1099">She's my good Lady; and will concieue, I hope</l>
      <l n="1100">But the worst of me. So I leaue you Sir,</l>
      <l n="1101">To'th'worst of discontent.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-cym-clo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Clot.</speaker>
      <l n="1102">Ile be reueng'd:</l>
      <l n="1103">His mean'st Garment? Well.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
</div>

        
        

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