I kissed the jack upon an up-cast, to be hit away! I had a hundred pound on't: And then a whoreson jackanapes must take me up for swearing; as if I borrowed mine oaths of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure. 1 Lord. What got he by that? You have broke his pate with your bowl. 2 Lord. If his wit had been like him that broke it, it would have run all out. [Aside. Clo. When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths: Ha? 2 Lord. No, my lord; nor [Aside.] crop the ears of them. Clo. Whoreson dog!-I give him satisfaction? 'Would, he had been one of my rank! 2 Lord. To have smelt like a fool. [Aside. Clo. I am not more vexed at any thing in the earth,-A pox on't! I had rather not be so noble as I am; they dare not fight with me, because of the queen my mother: every jack-slave hath his 'belly full of fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock that nobody can match. 2 Lord. You are a cock and capon too; and you crow, cock, with your comb on. Clo. Sayest thou? [Aside. 1 Lord. It is not fit, your lordship should undertake every companion2 that you give offence to. Clo. No, I know that: but it is fit, I should commit offence to my inferiors. 2 Lord. Ay, it is fit for your lordship only. Clo. Why, so I say. 1 Lord. Did you hear of a stranger, that's come to court to-night? Clo. A stranger! and I not know on't! it not. 2 Lord. He's a strange fellow himself, and knows [Aside. 1 Lord. There's an Italian come; and, 'tis thought, one of Leonatus' friends. Clo. Leonatus? a banished rascal; and he's another, whatsoever he be. Who told you of this stranger? 1 Lord. One of your lordship's pages. Clo. Is it fit I went to look upon him? Is there no derogation in't! 1 Lord. You cannot derogate, my lord. Clo. Not easily, I think. 2 Lord. You are a fool granted; therefore your issues being foolish, do not derogate. [Aside. Clo. Come, I'll go see this Italian: What I have lost to-day at bowls, I'll win to-night of him. Come, go. that 2 Lord. I'll attend your lordship. [Exeunt Cloten and first Lord. That such a crafty devil as is his mother Should yield the world this ass! a woman, Bears all down with her brain; and this her son Cannot take two from twenty for his heart, And leave eighteen. Alas, poor princess, Thou divine Imogen, what thou endur'st! Betwixt a father by thy step-dame govern'd; A mother hourly coining plots; a wooer, More hateful than the foul expulsion is Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act Of the divorce he'd make! The heavens hold firm The walls of thy dear honour; keep unshak'd That temple, thy fair mind; that thou may'st stand, To enjoy thy banish'd lord, and this great land! [Exit. (1) He is describing his fate at bowls; the jack is the small bowl at which the others are aimed. (2) Fellow. (3) i. c. Degrade yourself. sense Repairs itself by rest: Our Tarquin thus The adornment of her bed;-The arras,6 figures, Why, such, and such:-And the contents o'the story, Ah, but some natural notes about her body, Above ten thousand meaner moveables sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her! ta'en The treasure of her honour. No more.-To what end? Why should I write this down, that's riveted, May bare the raven's eye: I lodge in fear; One, two, three,-Time, time! [Goes into the trunk. The scene closes. (4) It was anciently the custom to strew chambers with rushes. (5) i. e. The white skin laced with blue veins. (6) Tapestry. SCENE III-An ante-chamber adjoining Imogen's apartment. Enter Cloten and Lords. 1 Lord. Your lordship is the most patient man in loss, the most coldest that ever turn'd up ace. Clo. It would make any man cold to lose. 1 Lord. But not every man patient, after the noble temper of your lordship; You are most hot, and furious, when you win. Clo Winning would put any man into courage: If I could get this foolish Imogen, I should have gold enough: It's almost morning, is't not? 1 Lord. Day, my lord. Clo. I would this music would come: I am advised to give her music o'mornings; they say, it will penetrate. Enter Musicians. Come on ; tune : If you can penetrate her with your fingering, so; we'll try with tongue too: if none will do, let her remain; but I'll never give o'er. First, a very excellent good-conceited thing; after, a wonderful sweet air, with admirable rich words to it, and then let her consider. SONG. Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings, His steeds to water at those springs On chalic'd flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin With every thing that pretty bin : So, get you gone: If this penetrate, I will consider Enter Cymbeline and Queen. 2 Lord. Here comes the king. Clo. I am glad, I was up so late; for that's the reason I was up so early: He cannot choose but take this service I have done, fatherly.-Good morrow to your majesty, and to my gracious mother. Cym. Attend you here the door of our stern daughter? Will she not forth? Clo. I have assailed her with music, but she vouchsafes no notice. Cym. The exile of her minion is too new; She hath not yet forgot him: 'some more time Must wear the print of his remembrance out, And then she's yours. Queen. You are most bound to the king; Who lets go by no vantages, that may Prefer you to his daughter: Frame yourself To orderly solicits; and be friended With aptness of the season :3 make denials Increase your services : : so seem, as if You were inspir'd to do those duties which You tender to her; that you in all obey her, Save when command to your dismission tends, And therein you are senseless. Clo. || Albeit he comes on angry purpose now; tress, [Exeunt Cym. Queen, Lords, and Mess. Clo. If she be up, I'll speak with her; if not, Let her lie still, and dream.-By your leave ho!I know her women are about her; What [Knocks. If I do line one of their hands? 'Tis gold Which buys admittance; oft it doth; yea, and makes Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up Nay, sometime, hangs both thief and true man: Can it not do, and undo? I will make Enter a Lady. [Knocks. Senseless? not so. I will not. Imo. Fools are not mad folks. Do you call me fool? (3) With solicitations not only proper, but welltimed. 3 D That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir, (To accuse myself,) I hate you: which I had rather Imo. Clo. The south fog rot him! Imo. He never can meet more mischance, than come To be but nam'd of thee. His meanest garment, Clo. His garment? Now, the devil- Imo. Hath left mine arm; it was thy master's: 'shrew me, Pis. "Twill not be lost. Imo. I hope so go, and search. [Exit Pis. Clo. You have abus'd me : His meanest garment? Imo. Ay; I said so, sir. If you will make't an action, call witness to't. Clo. I will inform your father. Imo. Your mother too: She's my good lady; and will conceive, I hope, But the worst of me. So I leave you, sir, I barely gratify your love; they failing, If I have lost it, I should have lost the worth of it in gold. I'll make a journey twice as far, to enjoy A second night of such sweet shortness, which Was mine in Britain; for the ring is won. Post. The stone's too hard to come by. lach. Your lady being so easy. Post. Not a whit, Make not, sir, [Exit. Your loss your sport: I hope, you know that we I'll be reveng'd: Must not continue friends. : To the worst of discontent. [Exit. SCENE IV.-Rome. An apartment in Philario's house. Enter Posthumus and Philario. Post. Fear it not, sir: I would, I were so sure (1) So verbose, so full of talk. If Iach. Good sir, we must, you keep covenant: Had I not brought The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant We were to question further: but I now Profess myself the winner of her honour, Together with your ring: and not the wronger Of her, or you, having proceeded but (4) Haunted. (5) Statesman, (6) To those who try them. By both Post. your wills. If you can make't apparent That you have tasted her in bed, my hand, And ring, is yours: If not, the foul opinion You had of her pure honour, gains, or loses, Your sword, or mine; or masterless leaves both To who shall find them. Iach. Sir, my circumstances, Being so near the truth, as I will make them, Must first induce you to believe: whose strength I will confirm with oath; which, I doubt not, You'll give me leave to spare, when you shall find You need it not. Post. Proceed. Iach. First, her bed-chamber (Where, I confess, I slept not; but, profess, Had that was well worth watching,) it was hang'd With tapestry of silk and silver; the story, Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman, And Cydnus swell'd above the banks, or for The press of boats, or pride: A piece of work So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive In workmanship, and value; which, I wonder'd, Could be so rarely and exactly wrought, Since the true life on't was Post. This is true; And this you might have heard of here, by me, Or by some other. Iach. More particulars Must justify my knowledge. Post. Or do your honour injury. Iach. So they must, Of one The chimney The roof o'the chamber With golden cherubins is fretted: Her andirons (I had forgot them,) were two winking Cupids Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely Depending on their brands.1 Post. persuaded well of She hath been colted by him. Iach. Sir, be patient: Never talk on't; If you seek For further satisfying, under her breast I kiss'd it; and it gave me present hunger Post. This is her honour!-Once, Let it be granted, you have seen all this (and praise Be given to your remembrance,) the description The wager you have laid. Iach. Then if you can, Once more let me behold it: Is it that Jove! Iach: Sir (I thank her,) that: She stripp'd it from her arm; I see her yet; Her pretty action did outsell her gift, And yet enrich'd it too: She it gave me, and said, She priz'd it once. Post. May be, she pluck'd it off, To send it me. lach. She writes so to you? doth she? Post. O, no, no, no; 'tis true. Here, take this [Gives the ring. too; It is a basilisk unto mine eye, Kills me to look on't :-Let there be no honour, (1) Torches in the hands of Cupids. Will you turns; and a million! I'll be sworn,—— Iach. Post. No swearing. If you will swear you have not done't, you lie ; And I will kill thee, if thou dost deny Thou hast made me cuckold. Iach. I will deny nothing. Post. O, that I had her here, to tear her limbmeal! I will go there, and do't; i'the court; before Her father:-I'll do something— Phi. [Exit. Quite beside The government of patience!-You have won: Let's follow him, and pervert the present wrath He hath against himself. Iach. With all my heart. [Exeunt. SCENE V-The same. Another room in the same. Enter Posthumus. Post. Is there no way for men to be, but women Must be half workers? We are bastards all; And that most venerable man, which I Did call my father, was I know not where When I was stamp'd; some coiner with his tools Made me a counterfeit: Yet my mother seem'd (2) The badge; the token. From off our coast, twice beaten; and his shipping Clo. Come, there's no more tribute to be paid: Our kingdom is stronger than it was at that time; and, as I said, there is no more such Cæsars: other of them may have crooked noses; but, to owe such straight arms, none. Cym. Son, let your mother end. As chaste as unsunn'd snow :-O, all the devils-And Britons strut with courage. All faults that may be nam'd, nay that hell knows, They are not constant, but are changing still ACT III. Clo. We have yet many among us can gripe as hard as Cassibelan: I do not say, I am one; but I have a hand.-Why tribute? why should we pay tribute? If Cæsar can hide the sun from us with a blanket, or put the moon in his pocket, we will pay him tribute for light; else, sir, no more tribute, pray you now. Cym. You must know, Till the injurious Romans did extort This tribute from us, we were free: Cæsar's am- (Which swell'd so much, that it did almost stretch Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed, SCENE I.-Britain. A room of state in Cym-Though Rome be therefore angry ;) Mulmutius, beline's palace. Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Clo- Who was the first of Britain, which did put ten, and Lords, at one door; and at another, His brows within a golden crown, and call'd Caius Lucius, and Attendants. Himself a king. There be many Cæsars, Ere such another Julius. Britain is A world by itself; and we will nothing pay, Queen. con Cæsar made here; but made not here his brag, Luc. I am sorry, Cymbeline, Luc. Let proof speak. Clo. His majesty bids you welcome. Make pastime with us a day, or two, longer: If you seek us afterwards in other terms, you shall find us in our salt-water girdle: if you beat us out of it, it is yours; if you fall in the adventure, our crows shall fare the better for you; and there's an end. Luc. So, sir. Cym. I know your master's pleasure, and he mine: All the remain is, welcome. [Exeunt. SCENE II-Another room in the same. Enter Pisanio. Pis. How! of adultery? Wherefore write you not What monster's her accuser?-Leonatus! (3) Extremity of defiance. (4) Well informed. |