They think they are mine; and though train' d

up thus meanly

I' the cave wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit
The roofs of palaces, and nature prompts them
In simple and low things to prince it much
Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore,
The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, who
The king his father call'd Guiderius, Jove !
When on my three-foot stool I sit and tell
The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out
Into my story : say Thus mine enemy fell,
And thus I set my foot on 's neck ; even then
The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,
Strains his young nerves and puts himself in

posture
That acts my words. The younger brother.,

Cadwal,



ACT III., Sc. 4.



GYMBELINE.



973



Once Arviragus, in as like a figure,

Strikes life into my speech and shows much more

His own conceiving. Hark, the game is roused !

O Cymbeline ! heaven and my conscience knows

Thou did'st unjustly banish me : whereon,

At three and two years old, I stole these babes ;

Thinking to bar thee of succession, as

Thou reft'st me of my lands. Euriphile,

Thou wast their nurse ; they took thee for their

mother,

And every day do honour to her grave :
Myself, Belarius, that am Morgan call'd,
They take for natural father. The game is up.

Exit.

Scene IV. Country near Mil ford-Haven.
Enter Pisanio and Imogen.

Imo. Thou told'st me, when we came from

horse, the place

Was near at hand : ne'er long'd my mother so
To see me first, as I have now. Pisanio ! man !
Where is Posthumus ? What is in thy mind,
That makes thee stare thus ? Wherefore breaks

that sigh

From the inward of thee ? One, but painted thus,
Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd
Beyond self-explication : put thyself
Into a haviour of less fear, ere wildness
Vanquish my staider senses. What 's the matter ?
Why tender 'st thou that paper to me, with
A look untender ? If 't be summer news,
Smile to 't before ; if winterly, thou ueed'st
But keep that countenance still. My husband's

hand !

That drug-damn' d Italy hath out-craftied him,
And he 's at some hard point. Speak, man : thy

tongue

May take off some extremity, which to read
Would be even mortal to me.

Pis. Please you, read ;

And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing
The most disdain' d of fortune.

Imo. [Reads. ,] Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath
played the strumpet in, my led ; the testimonies
whereof lie Heeding in me. I speak not out of
weak surmises, but from proof as strong as my
grief and as certain as I expect my revenge.
That part thou,, Pisanio, must act for me, if thy
fniih be not tainted with the breach of her*. Let
thine own hands take away her life : I shall give
thee opportunity at Mil ford-Haven. Slie hath
my letter for the purpose : where, if thou fear to
strike find to make me certain it is done, thou art
the partdar to her dishonour and equally to me
disloyal.

Pis. What shall I need to draw my sword ? the

paper

Hath cut her throat already. No, 'tis slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose

tongue

Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
Rides on the posting winds and doth belie
Allcomers of the world : kings, queens and states,
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters. What cheer,

madam ?
Inn: False to his bed ! What is it to be false ?



To lie in watch there and to think on him ?

To weep 'twixt clock and clock r if sleep charge

nature,

To break it with a fearful dream of him
And cry myself awake ? that 's false to 's bed, is it?
Pis. Alas, good lady !

Imo. I false ! Thy conscience witness : lachimo.
Thou didst accuse him of incontinency ;
Thou then look'dst like a villain ; now methinks
Thy favour 's good enough. Some jay of Italy
Whose mother was her painting, hath betray'd

him :

Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion ;
And, for I am richer than to hang by the walls,
I must be ripp'd : to pieces with me ! O,
Men's vows are women's traitors ! All good

seeming,

By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought
Put on for villainy ; not born where 't grows,
But worn a bait for ladies.
Pis. Good madam, hear me.

Imo. True honest men being heard, like false

^Eneas,
Were in his time thought false, and Siuon's

weeping

Did scandal many a holy tear, took pity
From most true wretchedness : so thou, Post-
humus,

Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men ;
Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjured
From thy great fail. Come, fellow, be thou

honest :
Do thou thy master's bidding : when thou see'st

him,

A little witness my obedience : look !
I draw the sword myself : take it, and hit
The innocent mansion of my love, my heart :
Fear not ; 'tis empty of all things but grief :
Thy master is not there, who was indeed
The riches of it : dp his bidding ; strike.
Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause ;
But now thou seem'st a coward.

Pis. Hence, vile instrument !

Thou shalt not damn my hand.

Imo. Why, I must die ;

And if I do not by thy hand, thou art
No servant of thy master's. Against self -slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine
That cravens my weak hand. Come, here 's my

heart.

Something 'saf ore 't. Soft, soft! we '11 no defence;
Obedient as the scabbard. What is here ?
The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus,
All turn'd to heresy ? Away, away,
Corrupters of my faith ! you shall no more
Be stomachers to my heart. Thus may poor fools
Believe false teachers : though those that are be-
tray'd

Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
Stands in worse case of woe.
And thou, Posthumus, thou that didst set up
My disobedience 'gainst the king my father
And make me put into contempt the suits
Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find
It is no act of common passage, but
A strain of rareness : and I grieve myself
To think, when thou shalt be disedged by her
That now thou tirest on, how thy memory
Will then be pang'd by me. Prithee, dispatch :



974



GYMSELINE.



ACT III., Sc. o.



The lamb entreats the butcher: where 's thy

knife ?

Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding,
When I desire it too.

Pis. O gracious lady,

Since I received command to do this business
I have not slept one wink.

Imo. Do 't, and to bed then.

Pis. I '11 wake mine eye-balls blind first.

Imo. Wherefore then

Didst undertake it ? Why hast thou abused
So many miles with a pretence ? this place H
Mine action and thine own ? our horses' labour ?
The time inviting thee ? the perturb' d court,
For my being absent ? whereunto I never
Purpose return. Why hast thou gone so far,
To be unbent when thou hast ta'en thy stand,
The elected deer before thee ?

Pis. But to win time

To lose so bad employment ; in the which
I have consider' d of a course. Good lady,
Hear me with patience.

Imo. Talk thy tongue weary ; speak :

I have heard I am a strumpet ; and mine ear,
Therein false struck, can take no greater wound,
Nor tent to bottom that. But speak.

Pis. Then, madam,

I thought you would not back again.

Imo. Most like;

Bringing me here to kill me.

Pis. Not so, neither :

But if I were as wise as honest, then
My purpose would prove well. It cannot be
But that my master is abused :
Some villain, ay, and singular in his art,
Hath done you both this cursed injury.

Imo. Some Roman courtezan.

Pis. No, on my life.

I '11 give but notice you are dead and send him
Some bloody sign of it ; for 'tis commanded
I should do so : you shall be miss'd at court,
And that will well confirm it.

Imo. Why, good fellow

What shall I do the while ? where bide ? how live ?
Or in my life what comfort, when I am
Dead to my husband ?

Pis. If you 'H back to the court

Imo. No court, no father ; nor no more ado
With that harsh, noble, simple nothing,
That Cloten, whose love-suit hath been to me
As fearful as a siege.

Pi's. If not at court,

Then not in Britain must you bide.

Where then ?



In a great pool a swan's nest : prithee, think
There 's livers out of Britain.

Pis. I am most glad

You think of other place. The ambassador,
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford-Haven
To-morrow : now, if you could wear a mind
Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
That which, to appear itself, must not yet be
But by self -danger, you should tread a course
Pretty and full of view ; yea, haply, near
The residence of Posthumus ; so nigh at least
That though his actions were not visible, yet



Report should render him hourly to your ear
As truly as he moves.

Imo. O, for such means !

Though peril to my modesty, not death on 't,
I would adventure.

Pis. Well, then, here 's the point :

You must forget, to be a woman ; change
Command into obedience : fear and niceness
(The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
Woman its pretty self) into a waggish courage ;
Ready in gibes, quick-answer' d, saucy, and
As quarrelous as the weasel ; nay, you must
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,
Exposing it (but, O, the harder heart !
Alack, no remedy !) to the greedy touch
Of common-kissing Titan, and forget
Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein
You made great Juno angry.

Imo. Nay, be brief :

I see into thy end, and am almost
A man already.

Pis. First, make yourself but like one.

Fore-thinking this, I have already fit
'Tis in my cloak-bag doublet, hat, hose, all
That answer to them : would you in their serving,
And with what imitation you can borrow
From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucius
Present yourself, desire his service, tell him
Wherein you 're happy, which you '11 make him

know,

If that his head have ear in music, doubtless
With joy he will embrace you, for he's honour-

able,
And doubling that, most holy. Your mean*

abroad,

You have me, rich ; and I will never fail
Beginning nor supplyment.

Imo. Thou art all the comfort

The gods will diet me with. Prithee, away :
There 's more to be cpnsider'd ; but we '11 even
All that good time will give us : this attempt
I am soldier to, and will abide it with
A prince's courage. Away, I prithee.

Pis. Well, madam, we must take a short fare-

well,

Lest, being miss'd, I be suspected of
Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress,
Here is a box ; I had it from the queen :
What 's in 't is precious ; if you are sick at sea,
Or stomach-qualm 'd at land, a dram of this
Will drive away distemper. To some shade,
And fit you to your manhood. May the gods
Direct you to the best !

Imo. Amen : I thank thee. Exeunt severally.



Scene V. A Room in Cymbelim's

Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, Lucius, 'Lord*
and Attendants.

Cym. Thus far ; and so farewell.

Luc. Thanks, royal sir.

My emperor hath wrote, I must from hence 4
And am right sorry that I must report ye
My master's enemy.

Cym. Our subjects, sir,

Will not endure his yoke ; and for ourself
To show less sovereignty than they, must needs
Appear unkinglike.

Luc. So, sir : I desire of you



ACT III., Sc. 5.



CYMBELINE.



975



A conduct over-land to Milford-Haven.
Madam, all joy befall your grace !

Qneen. And you !

C ;i in. My lords, you are appointed for that

office ;

The due of honour in no point omit.
So farewell, noble Lucius.

Luc. Your hand, my lord.

( '//>. Receive it friendly ; but from this time

forth
I \vonr it as your enemy.

Luc. Sir, the event

Is >vt to name the winner: fare you well.

Ci/tH. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my

lords,
Till he have cross'd the Severn. Happiness !

Exeunt Lucius and Lords.

Queen. He goes hence frowning : but it hon-
ours us
That we have given him cause.

Clo. 'Tis all the better;

Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.

Gym. Lucius hath wrote already to the emperor,
How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness :
The powers that he already hath in Gallia
Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he

moves
His war for Britain.

Queen. 'Tis not sleepy business ;

But must be look'd to speedily and strongly.

( 'inn. Our expectation that it would be thus
Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen,
Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd
Befoi-e the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd
The duty of the day : she looks us like
A thing more made of malice than of duty :
We have noted it. Call her before us ; for
We have been too slight in sufferance.

Exit an Attendant.

fyu-een. Royal sir,

Since the exile of Posthumus, most retired
Hath her life been ; the cure whereof, my lord,
'Tis time must do. Beseech your majesty,
Forbear sharp speeches to her : she 's a lady
So tender of rebukes that words are strokes
And strokes death to her.

Re-enter Attendant.

Cijm. Where is she, sir ? How

Can her contempt be answer' d ?

Att. Please you, sir,

Her chambers are all lock'd; and there's no

answer
That will be given to the loudest noise we make.

Queen. My lord, when last I went to visit her,
She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close,
Whereto constrained by her infirmity,
She should that duty leave unpaid to you,
Which daily she was bound to proffer : this
She wish'd me to make known ; but our great

court
M:idc me to blame in memory.

C?/m. Her doors lock'd?

Not seen of late ? Grant, heavens, that which I fear
Prove false ! Exit.

Qneen. Son, I say, follow the king.

do. That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant,
I have not seen these two days.



Queen. Go, look after. Exit Cloten.

Pisanio, thou that stand' st so for Posthumus !
He hath a drug of mine : I pray his absence
Proceed by swallowing that, for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her,
Where is she gone ? Haply, despair hath seized

her,

Or, wing'd with fervour of her love, she 's flown
To her desired Posthumus : gone she is
To death or to dishonour ; and my end
Can make good use of either : she being down,
I have the placing of the British crown.

Re-enter Cloten.
How now, my son !

Clo. 'Tis certain she is fled.

Go hi and cheer the king : he rages ; none
Dare come about him.

Queen. [Amde.l All the better : may
This night forestall him of the coming day ! Exit.

Clo. I love and hate her: for she's" fair and

royal,

And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite
Than lady, ladies, woman ; from every one
The best she hath, and she, of all compounded,
Outsells them all ; I love her therefore : but
Disdaining me and throwing favours on
The low Posthumus slanders so her judgment
That what's else rare is choked; and in that

point

I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed,
To be revenged npon her. For when fools
Shall

Enter Pisanio.

Who is here ? What, are you packing, sirrah ?
Come hither : ah, you precious pandar ! Villain,
Where is thy lady ? In a word ; or else
Thou art straightway with the fiends.

Pis. 0, good my lord !

Clo. Where is thy lady ? or, by Jupiter,
I will not ask again. Close villain,
I '11 have this secret from thy heart, or rip
Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus ?
From whose so many weights of baseness cannot
A dram of worth be drawn.

Pis. Alas, my lord,

How can she be with him ? When was she miss'd ?
He is in Rome.

Clo. Where is she, sir ? Come nearer;

No further halting : satisfy me home
What is become of her.

Pis. O, my all-worthy lord !

Clo. All-worthy villain !

Discover where thy mistress is at once,
At the next word : no more of worth i/ lord !
Speak, or thy silence on the instant is
Thy condemnation and thy death.

Pis. Then, sir,

This paper is the history of my knowledge
Touching her flight. Presenting a letter.

Clo. Let 's see 't. I will pursue her

Even to Augustus' throne.

Pi's. [Aside.'] Or this, or perish.

She 's far enough ; and what he learns by this
Mav prove his travel, not her danger.

Clo. Hum !

Pis. [Aside.'] I'M write to my lord she 's dead.

O Imogen,
Safe mayst thou wander, safe return again !



976



CYMBELINE.



ACT III., Sc. G.



Clo. Sirrah, is this letter true ?

Pis. Sir, as I think.

Clo. It is Posthumus' hand ; I know 't. Sir-
rah, if thou would^t not be a villain, but do me
true service, undergo those employments wherein
I should have cause to use thee with a serious in-
dustry, that is, what villainy soe'er I bid thee do,
to perform it directly and truly, I would think
thee an honest man : thou shouldst neither want
my means for thy relief nor my voice for thy pre-
ferment.

Pis. Well, my good lord.

Clo. Wilt thou serve me? for since patiently
and constantly thou hast stuck to the bare fortune
of that beggar Posthumus, thou canst not, in the
course of gratitude, but be a diligent follower of
mine : wilt thou serve me ?

Pis. Sir, I will.

Clo. Give me thy hand ; here 's my purse.
Hast any of thy late master's garments in thy
possession ?

.Pis. I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same
suit he wore when he took leave of my lady and
mistress.

Clo. The first service thou dost me. fetch that
suit hither : let it be thy first service; go.

Pis. I shall, my lord. Ki-lt.

Clo. Meet thee at Milford- Haven ! I forgot to
ask him one thing ; I '11 remember 't anon : even
there, thou villain Posthumus, will I kill thee.
I would these garments were come. She said
upon a time (the bitterness of it I now belch
from my heart) that she held the very garment
of Posthumus in more respect than my noble and
natural person, together with the adornment of
my qualities. With that suit upon my back, will
I ravish her : first kill him, and in her eyes ; thei-e
shall she see my valour, which will then be a tor-
ment to her contempt. He on the ground, my
speech of insultment ended on his dead body, and
when my lust hath dined, (which, as I say, to
vex her I will execute in the clothes that she so
praised,) to the court I '11 knock her back, foot
her home again. She hath despised me rejoic-
ingly, and I '11 be merry in my i*evenge.

Re-enter Pisanio, with the clothes.

Be those the garments ?

Pis. Ay, my noble lord.

Clo. How long is 't since she went to Milford-
Haven ?

Pis. She can scarce be there yet.

Clo. Bring this apparel to my chamber ; that
is the second thing that I have commanded thee :
the third is, that thou wilt be a voluntary mute to
my design. Be but duteous, and true preferment
shall tender itself to thee. My revenge is now at
Milford : would I had wings to follow it ! Come,
and be true. Exit .

Pis. Thou bid'st me to my loss : for true to

thee

Were to prove false, which I will never be,
To him that is most true. To Milford go,
And find not her whom thou pursuest. Flow,

flow,
You heavenly blessings, on her ! This fool's

speed
Be cross'd with slowness ; labour be his meed !

Exit.



Scene FL Wales. Before the Cave of Bdariu*.

Enter Imogen, in boy's clothes.
Inio. I see a man's life is a tedious one :
I have tired myself, and for two nights together
Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick,
But that my resolution helps me. Milford,
When from the mountain-top Pisanio show'd thee,
Thou wast within a ken : O Jove ! I think
Foundations fly the wretched ; such, I mean,
Where they should be relieved. Two beggars

told me

I could not miss my way : will poor folks lie,
That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis
A punishment or trial ? Yes ; no wonder,
When rich ones scarce tell true. To lapse in

fulness

Is sorer than to lie for need, and falsehood
Is worse in kings than beggars. My dear lord !
Thou art one o' the false ones. Now I think on

thee,

My hunger 's gone ; but even before, I was
At point to sink for food. But what is this ?
Here is a path to 't : 'tis some savage hold :
I were best not call ; I dare not call : yet famine,
Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant.
Plenty and peace breeds cowards : hardness ever
Of hardiness is mother. Ho ! who 's here ?
If any thing that 's civil, speak ; if savage,
Take or lend. Ho ! No answer ? Then I '11 enter.
Best draw my sword ; and if mine enemy
But fear the sword like me, he '11 scarcely look

on 't.

Such a foe, good heavens ! Exit, to the cave.

Enter Belarius, Guiderius an



Bel. You, Polydore, have proved best woodman

and

Are master of the fea,st : Cadwal and I
Will play the cook and servant ; 'tis our match :
The sweat of industry would dry and die,
But for the end it works to. Come ; our stomachs
Will make what's homely savoury : weariness
Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth
Finds the down pillow hard. Now peace be here,
Poor house, that keep'st thyself !

Gui. I am throughly weary.

Arv. I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite.
Gui. There is cold meat i' the cave ; we '11

browse on that,
Whilst what we have kill'd be cook'd.

Bel. [Looking into the care.] Stay ; come not

in.

But that it eats our victuals, I should think
Here were a fairy.

Gui. What 's the matter, sir ?

Bel. By Jupiter, an angel ! or, if not,
An earthly paragon ! Behold divineuess
No elder than, a boy !

Re-enter Imogen.

Imo. Good masters, harm me not :
Before I enter'd here, I call'd ; and thought
To have begg'd or bought what I have took : good

troth,
I have stol'n nought, nor would not, though I

had found
Gold strew'd i' the floor. Here 's money for my

meat :
I would have left it on the board so soon



ACT IV., Sc. 2.



CTMBELINE.



977



As I had made my meal, and parted
With prayers for the provider.

GUI. Money, youth ?

An\ All gold and silver rather turn to dirt !
And 'tis no better reckon'd, but of those
Who worship dirty gods.

Imo. I see you 're angry :

Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should
Have died had I not made it.

Bel. Whither bound?

/TOO. To Milford-IIaven.

Bel. What 's your name ?

Imo. Fidele, sir. I have a kinsman who
Is bound for Italy ; he embarked at Milford ;
To whom being going, almost spent with hunger,
I am fall'n in this offence.

Bel. Prithee, fair youth,

Think us no churls, nor measure our good minds
By this rude place we live in. Well encountered !
'Tis almost night : you shall have better cheer
Ere you depart ; and thanks to stay and eat it.
Boys, bid him welcome.

Gui. Were you a woman, youth,

I should woo hard but be your groom. In honesty,
I bid for you as I 'Id buy.

Arv. I '11 make 't my comfort

He is a man ; I '11 love him as my brother :
And such a welcome as I 'Id give to him
After long absence, such is yours : most welcome !
Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst friends.

Imo. 'Mongst friends,

If brothers. [ Aside. ,] Would it had been so,

that they

Had been my father's sons ! then had my prize
Been less, and so more equal ballasting
To thee, Posthumus.

Bel. He wrings at some distress.

Gui. Would I could free 't !

Arv. Or I, whate'er it be,

What pain it cost, what danger. Gods !

Bel. Hark, boys.

Whispering.

Imo. Great men,

That had a court no bigger than this cave,
That did attend themselves and had the virtue
Which their own conscience seal'd them, (lay ingby
That nothing-gift of differing multitudes,)
Could not out-peer these twain. Pardon me,

gods!

I 'Id change my sex to be companion with them,
Since Leouatus 's false.

Bel. It shall be so.

Boys, we '11 go dress our hunt. Fair youth, come

in :

Discourse is heavy, fasting ; when we have supp'd,
We '11 mannerly demand thee of thy story,
So far as thou wilt speak it.

Gui. P r ay> draw near.

Arv. The night to the owl and morn to the
lark less welcome.

Imo. Thanks, sir.

Arv. I pray, draw near. E <c>nit.

Scene VII. Rome. A PitMic Plur.

Enter two Senators and Tribunes.
1 Sen. This is the tenour of the emperor's

writ :
That since the common men are now in action



'Gainst the Pannonians and Dalmatians,
And that the legions now in Gallia are
Full weak to undertake our wars against
The fall'n-off Britons, that we do incite
The gentry to this business. He creates
Lucius proconsul : and to you the tribunes,
For this immediate levy, he commends
His absolute commission. Long live Caesar !

1 Tri. Is Lucius general of the forces ?

2 Sen. Ay,
1 Tri. Remaining now in Gallia ?

1 Sen. With those legions

Which I have spoke of, whereunto your levy
Must be supplyant : the words of your commission
Will tie you to the numbers and the time
Of their dispatch.

1 Tri. We will discharge our duty.

Exeunt.



Act IV.

Scene I. Wales: near the Cave of Belarius.
Enter Clot en.

Clo. I am near to the place where they should
meet, if Pisanio have mapped it truly. How tit
his garments serve me ! Why should his mistress,
who was made by him that made the tailor, not
be fit too? the rather saving reverence of the
word for 'tis said a woman's fitness comes by fits.
Therein I must play the workman. I dare speak
it to myself for it is not vain-glory for a man and
his glass to confer in his own chamber I mean,