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Behind our rock, and let it to the sea,

Arr. Stark, as you see:

And tell the fishes, he's the queen's son, Cloten: Thus smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber,
That's all I reck.
Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at: his right

[Exit.

Bel. I fear 'twill be reveng'd: "Would, Polydore, thou had'st not done't! though valour

Becomes thee well enough.

Arv. 'Would I had done't,

So the revenge alone pursued me!-Polydore,
I love thee brotherly; but envy much,

Thou hast robb'd me of this deed: I would

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Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon'st In these two princely boys! They are as gentle As zephyrs, blowing below the violet,

Not wagging his sweet head and yet as rough,
Their royal blood enchaf'd, as the rud'st wind,
That by the top doth take the mountain pine,
And make him stoop to the vale. 'Tis won-
derful,

That an invisible instinct should frame them
To royalty unlearn'd; honour untaught;
Civility not seen from other; valour,
That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop
As if it had been sow'd! Yet still it's strange
What Cloten's being here to us portends;
Or what his death will bring us.

Re-enter GUIDERIUS.

Gui. Where's my brother?

I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream,
In embassy to his mother; his body's hostage
For his return.
[Solemn Music.

Bel. My ingenious instrument!
Hark, Polydore, it sounds! But what occasion
Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark!

Gui. Is he at home?

Bel. He went hence even now.

cheek

Reposing on a cushion.

Gui. Where ?

Arv. O'the floor;

His arms thus leagu'd: I thought he slept; and put

My clouted brogues + from off my feet, whose rudeness

Answer'd my steps too loud.

Gui. Why, he but sleeps.

If he be gone, he'll make his grave a bed;
With female fairies will his tomb be haunted,
And worms will not come to thee.

Arv. With fairest flowers,

Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,
I'll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lack
The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose;

nor

The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veius; no, uor
The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,
Out-sweeten'd not thy breath: the ruddock
would,

With charitable bill (O bill, sore-shaming
Those rich-left heirs, that let their fathers lie
Without a monument!) bring thee all this;
Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are

none

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I cannot sing: I'll weep, and word it with thee:
For notes of sorrow, out of tune, are worse
Thau priests and faues that lie.

Art. We'll speak it then.

Bel. Great griefs, I see, medicine the less for Cloten

Is quite forgot. He was a queen's son, boys:

Gui. What does he mean? since death of my And, though he came our enemy, remember,

dear'st mother.

It did not speak before. All solemn things
Should answer solemn accidents. The matter?
Triumphs for nothing, and lamenting toys,
Is jollity for apes, and grief for boys.
Is Cadwal mad?

Re-enter ARVIRAGUS, bearing IMOGEN, as dead in his Arms.

Bel. Look, here he comes,

And brings the dire occasion in his arms,
Of what we blame him for 1

Arv. The bird is dead,

That we have made so much on. I had rather Have skipp'd from sixteen years of age to sixty, To have turn'd my leaping time into a crutch, Than have seen this.

Gui. O sweetest, fairest lily!

My brother wears thee not the one half so well, As when thou grew'st thyself.

Bel. O melancholy!

Who ever yet could sound thy bottom? find

The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish

crare

Might easiliest harbour in ?-Thon blessed thing! Jove knows what man thou might'st have made! but 1,

Thou diedst a most rare boy of metancholy !— How found you him?

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The red-prenst ing, for, wither round thy corse.

Arv. Fear no more the frown o'the great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
Care no more to clothe, and eat;

To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.

Gui. Fear no more the lightning flash,
Arv. Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Gui. Fear not slander, censure* rash ;
Arv. Thou hast finish'd joy and moan:
Both. All lovers young, all lovers must

Consign to thee and come to dust.

Gui. No exorciser harm thee!
Arv. Nor witchcraft charm thee.
Gui. Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Arv. Nothing ill come near thee!
Both. Quiet consummation have;

And renowned be thy grave!

Re-enter BELARIUS, with the Body of CLOTEN. Gui. We have done our obsequies; Come, lay him down.

Bel. Here's a few flowers, but about mid-
night more:
[night,
The herbs, that have on them cold dew o'the
Are strewings fitt'st for graves.-Upon their
faces :-

You were as flowers, now wither'd even so
These herb'lets shall, which we upon you

strew.

Come on, away: apart upon our knees.
The ground that gave them first, has them
again;

Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain.
[Exeunt BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and
ARVIRAGUS.

Imo. [Awaking.] Yes, Sir, to Milford-Haven;
Which is the way?-

I thank you. By you bush ?- Pray, how far
thither ?

'Ods pittikins! --can it be six miles yet?
I have gone all night :-'Faith, I'll lie down
and sleep.

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This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten's: O!-
Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood,
That we the horrider may seem to those
Which chance to find us: O my lord, my lord!
Enter LUCIUS, a CAPTAIN, and other OFFI-
CERS, and a SOOTHSAYER.

Cap. To them the legions garrison'd in Gallia,
After your will, have cross'd the sea attending
You here at Milford-Haven, with your ships:
They are here in readiness.

Luc. But what from Rome ?

Cap. The senate hath stirr'd up the confiners,
And gentlemen of Italy; most willing spirits,
That promise noble service and they come
Under the conduct of bold Iachimo,
Sienna's brother.

Luc. When expect you them?

Cap. With the next benefit o'the wind.
Luc. This forwardness

Makes our hopes fair. Command our present
numbers
[Sir,
Be muster'd; bid the captains look to't.-Now,
What have you dream'd, of late, of this war's
purpose?

Sooth. Last night the very gods show'd me a
vision:

(I fast, and pray'd for their intelligence,)
Thus :-

I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd
From the spongy south to this part of the west,
There vanish'd in the sunbeams: which por-
tends,

(Unless my sins abuse my divination,) But, soft! no bedfellow :-O gods and god-Success to the Roman host.

desses ! [Seeing the Body. These flowers are like the pleasures of the world;

This bloody man, the care on't.-I hope, dream:

For, so, I thought I was a cave-keeper,

And cook to honest creatures: But 'tis not so; 'Twas but a bolt of nothing, shot at nothing, Which the brain makes of fumes:

eyes

Our very

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Luc. Dream often so,

And never false.-Soft, hoi what trunk is here,
Without his top? The ruin speaks, that some-

time

It was a worthy building.-How! a page!-
Or dead, or sleeping on him? But dead, rather:
For nature doth abhor to make his bed
With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead.-
Let's see the boy's face.

Cap. He is alive, my lord.

Luc. He'll then instruct us of this body.--
Young one,

Inform us of thy fortunes; for, it seems,
They crave to be demanded: Who is this,
Thou mak'st thy bloody pillow? Or who was he
That, otherwise than noble nature did,
Hath alter'd that good picture? What's thy
interest

In this sad wreck? How came it? Who is it?
What art thou?

:

Imo. I am nothing or if not,
Nothing to be were better. This was my mas
face-A very valiant Briton, and a good,
[ter,

That here by mountaineers lies slain :-Alas!
There are no more such masters: I may wander
From east to occident, † cry out for service,
Try many, all good, serve truly, never
Find such another master.

I know the shape of his leg: this is his hand;
His foot Mercurial; his Martial thigh;
The brawns of Hercules: but his Jovial
Murder in heaven ?-How?-'Tis gone.-Pisanio,
All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks,
And mine to boot, be darted on thee! Thou,
Conspir'd with that irregulous devil, Cloten,
Hast here cut off my lord.-To write and read,
Be henceforth treacherous!-Damn'd Pisanio
Hath with his forged letters, damn'd Pisanio-Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining,
From this most bravest vessel of the world
Struck the main top -O Posthumus! alas,
Where is thy head? where's that? Ah me!
where's that?

Pisanio might have kill'd thee at the heart,

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Luc. 'Lack, good youth

than

Thy master in bleeding: Say his name, good friend.

Imo. Richard du Champ.-If I do lie, and do No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope

They'll pardon it.-Say you, Sir ?

[Aside.

1. e. Tis a ready, apposite conclusion.
The west.
* iler fingers.

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Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say,
Thou shalt be so well master'd; but be sure,
No less belov'd. The Roman emperor's letters,
Sent by a consul to me, should not sooner
Than thine own worth prefer thee: Go with me.
Imo. I'll follow, Sir. But first, an't please
the gods,

I'll hide my master from the flies, as deep
As these poor pickaxes* can dig aud when
With wild wood-leaves and weeds I have strew'd
his grave,

And on it said a century of prayers,

Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep and sigh;
And, leaving so his service, follow you,
So please you entertain me.

Luc. Ay, good youth;

And rather father thee, than master thee.-
My friends,

The boy hath taught us manly duties: Let us
Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can,
And make him with our pikes and partizans
A grave: Come, arm him.-Boy, he is pre-
ferr'd

By thee to us; and he shall be interr'd,

As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes :
Some falls are means the happier to arise.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III-A Room in CYM BELINE'S
Palace.

Enter CYMBELINE, LORDS, and PISANIO.
Cym. Again; and bring me word how 'tis
with her.

A fever with the absence of her son;

A madness, of which her life's in danger
Heavens,

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These present wars shall find I love my country,
Even to the note t o'the king, or I'll fall in
them.

All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd:
Fortune brings in some boats, that are not
steer'd.
[Exit.

SCENE IV.-Before the Cave.

Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.
Gui. The noise is round about us.
Bel. Let us from it.

Arv. What pleasure, Sir, find we in life, to
lock it

From action and adventure?

Gui. Nay, what hope

Have we in hiding us ? this way, the Romans
Must or for Britons slay us, or receive us
For barbarous and unnatural revolts
During their use, and slay us after.

Bel. Sons,

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Among the bands) may drive us to a render Where we have liv'd; and so extort from us :-That which we have done, whose answer would

How deeply you at once do touch me! Imogen,
The great part of my comfort, gone: my queeu
Upon a desperate bed; and in a time

When fearful wars point at me, her son gone,
So needful for this present:
It strikes ine,

past

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For Cloten,

There wants no diligence in seeking him,
And will no doubt, be found.

Cym. The time's troublesome :

We'll slip you for a season; but our jealousy
Does yet depend.
[To PISANIO.

1 Lord. So please your majesty,
The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn,
Are landed on your coast with a supply
Of Roman gentlemen, by the senate sent.

be death

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Better to cause to be. Pray, Sir, to the army :
I and my brother are not known ; yourself,
So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown,
Cannot be question'd.

Arv. By this sun that shines,

I'll thither: What thing is it, that I never
Did see man die? scarce ever look'd on blood,
But that of coward hares, hot goa's, and veni-
son?

Cym. Now for the counsel of my son and Never bestrid a horse, save one that had

queen!

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A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel
Nor iron on his heel? I am asham'd
To look upon the holy sun, to have
The benefit of his bless'd beams remaining
So long a poor unknown.
Gui. By heavens, I'll go :

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Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for I wish'd [ones, Thou should'st be colour'd thus. You married If each of you would take this course, how many [selves,

Must murder wives much better than them-
For wrying but a little ?-0 Pisanio!
Every good servant does not all commands:
No bond, but to do just ones.-Gods! if you

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Bel. Stand, stand! We have the advantage of the ground;

The lane is guarded, nothing routs us, but
The villany of our fears.

Gui. Arv. Stand, stand, and fight!
Enter POSTHUMUS, and seconds the Britons :
They rescue CYMBELINE, and exeunt. Then,
enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, and IMOGEN.

Luc. Away, boy, from the troops, and save thyself:

For friends kill friends, and the disorder's such As war were hood-wink'd.

Iach. 'Tis their fresh supplies.

Luc. It is a day turn'd strangely: or betimes Let's re-enforce or fly. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.—Another Part of the Field.
Enter POSTHUMUS and a British LORD.
Lord. Cam'st thou from where they made
the stand?
Post. I did:

Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I Though you, it seems, come from the fliers.

never

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Among the Italian gentry, and to fight
Against my lady's kingdom: 'Tis enough
That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistress; peace!
I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good
heavens,

Hear patiently my purpose: I'll disrobe me
Of these Italian weeds, and suit myself
As does a Briton peasant: so I'll fight
Against the part I come in; so I'll die
For thee, O Imogen, even for whom my life
Is, every breath, a death and thus, unknown,
Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril
Myself I'll dedicate. Let me make men know
More valour in me, than my habits show.
Gods, put the strength o'the Leonati in me!
To shame the guise o'the world, I will begin
The fashion, less without, and more within.

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Lord. I did.

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He with two striplings, (lads more like to run The country base, than to commit such slaughter;

With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer
Than those for preservation cas'd, or shame,)
Made good the passage; cry'd to those that fled,
Our Britain's harts die flying, not our men :
To darkness ficet, souls that fly backwards!
Stand;

Or we are Romans, and will give you that
Like beasts, which you shun beastly; and may

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But by example (O a sin in war, Damn'd in the first beginners!) 'gan to look The way that they did, and to grin like lions pon the pikes o'the hunters. Then began 4 stop i'the chaser, a retire; anon, A rout, confusion thick: Forthwith they fly thickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles; slaves, [cowards The strides they victors made: and now our 'Like fragments in hard voyages,) became The life o'the need; having found the back-door [wound! open Of the ungaurded hearts, Heavens, how they Some, slain before; some, dying; some, their friends

O'erborne i'the former wave: ten, chas'd by one. Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty: Those, that would die or ere resist, are grown The mortal bugs o'the field.

Lord. This was strange chance:

A narrow lane! an old man, and two boys!
Post. Nay, do not wonder at it: You

made

are

Rather to wonder at the things you hear,
Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon't,
And vent it for a mockery? Here is one :
Two boys, an old man, twice a boy, a lane,
Preserv'd the Britons, was the Romans' bane.
Lord. Nay, be not angry, Sir.
Post. 'Lack, to what end?

Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his friend:
For if he'll do, as he is made to do,

I know, he'll quickly fly my friendship too.
You have put me into rhyme.

Lord. Farewell, you are angry.
Post. Still going?-This is a lord!

misery!

[Exit. O noble

To be the i'the field, and ask, what news, of me! To-day, how many would have given their

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find him:

For being now a favourer to the Roman,
No more a Briton, I have resum'd again
The part I came in: Fight I will no more,
But yield me to the veriest hind, that shall
Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is
Here made by the Roman; great the answer be
Britons must take; for me my ransom's death;
On either side I come to spend my breath,
Which neither here I'll keep, nor bear again,
But end it by some means for Imogen.

Enter two British CAPTAINS, and Soldiers.
1 Cap. Great Jupiter be prais'd!
taken;

'Tis thought, the old man and his 2 Cap. There was a fourth man, That gave the affront+ with them.

1 Cap. So 'tis reported:

Lucius is [angels. sons were in a silly

[habit,

But none of them can be found.-Stand! who is there?

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MUS to CYMBELINE, who delivers him over to a JAILER after which, all go out.

SCENE IV.-A Prison.

Enter POSTHUMUS, and two JAILERS.

1 Jail. You shall not now be stolen, you have looks upon you; So graze as you find pasture.

I

2 Jail. Ay, or a stomach. [Exeunt JAILERS. Post. Most welcome, bondage! for thou art a way, think to liberty: Yet am I better

Than one that's sick o'the gout: since he had rather Groan so in perpetuity, than be cur'd By the sure physcian, death; who is the key To unbar these locks. My conscience! thou art fetter'd

More than my shanks and wrists: You good gods, give me

The penitent instrument, to pick that bolt,
Then, free for ever! Is't enough, I am sorry?
So children temporal fathers do appease ;
Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent?
I cannot do it better than in gyves,
Desir'd, more than constrain'd: to satisfy,
If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take
No stricter render of me, than my all.

I know you are more clement than vile men
Who of their broken debtors take a third,
A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again
On their abatement; that's not my desire:
For Imogen's dear life, take mine; and though
'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coin'd it:
'Tween man and man, they weigh not every
stamp;

powers,

[He sleeps.

Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake:
You rather mine, being your's: And so great
If you will take this audit, take this life,
And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen !
'll speak to thee in silence.
Solemn music. + Enter, as an Apparition,
SICILIUS LEONATUS, Father to POSTHUMUS,
an old Man, attired like a Warrior; lead-
ing in his hand an ancient Matron, his
Wife, and Mother to POSTHUMUS, with
music before them. Then, after other mu-
sic, follow the two young LEONATI, Brothers
to POSTHUMUS, with Wounds, as they died
in the Wars. They circle POSTHUMUS
round, as he lies sleeping.

Sici. No more, thou thunder master show
Thy spite on mortal flies:

With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,
That thy adulteries

Rates and revenges.

Hath my poor boy done aught but well,
Whose face I never saw?

I died, whilst in the womb he stay'd
Attending Nature's law.

Whose father then (as men report,

Thou orphans' father art,)

Thou should'st have been, and shielded him
From this earth-vexing smart.
Moth. Lucina lent not me her aid,
But took me in my throes;

That from me was Posthumus ript,
Came crying 'mongst his foes,
A thing of pity!

Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry,
Moulded the stuff so fair,

That he deserv'd the praise o' the world

As great Sicilius' heir.

1 Bro. When once he was mature for man, In Britain where was he

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