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As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn. With their own nobleness, (which could have If that thy gentry, Britain, go before

turn'd This lout, as he exceeds our lords, the odds A distaff to a lance,) gilded pale looks, Is, that we scarce are men, and you are gods. Part, shame, part, spirit renew'd; that some,


turn'd coward

But by example (0, a sin in war, The Battle continues; the Britons fly; CYMBE- Damn'd in the first beginners!) 'gan to look LINE is taken: then enter to his rescue, Be- The way that they did, and to grin like lions LARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS. Upon the pikes o'the hunters. Then began Bel. Stand, stand! We have the advantage A stop i'the chaser, a retire ; anon, of the ground;

A rout, confusion thick: Forthwith they fly The lane is guarded: nothing routs us, but Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles; The villany of our fears.


[cowards Gui. Ari. Stand, stand, and fight!

The strides they victors made: and now our

(Like fragments in hard voyages,) became Enter POSTHUMUS, and seconds the Britans: The life o'the need; having tound the backThey rescue CYMBELINE, and exeunt. Then,

door open

[Wound! enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, and IMOGEN.

Of the unguarded hearts, Heavens, how they Luc. Away, boy, from the troops, and save

Some, slain before ; some, dying; some, their thyself:


friends For friends kill friends, and the disorder's such

O’erborne i'the former .wave : ten, chac'd by As war were hood-wink'd.

Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty: lach. 'Tis their fresh supplies.

Those, that would die or ere resist, are grown Luc. It is a day turn'd strangely: or betimes

The mortal bugs* o'the field. Let's re-enforce, or fly.

Lord. This was strange chance: [Exeunt.

| A narrow lane! an old man, and two boys! SCENE 111.-Another Part of the Field. Post. Nay, do not wonder at it: You are Enter Posthumus and a British Lord.


Rather to wonder at the things you bear, Lord. Cam'st thou from where they made Than to work any, Will you rhyme upon't, the stand ?

And vent it for a mockery? Here is one: Post. I did :

Two boys, un old man twice a boy, a lane, Though you, it seems, come from the fiers.

Presero'd the Britons, was the Romans' bane. Lord. I did.

Lord. Nay, be not angry, Sir. Post. No blame be to you, Sir; for all was Post. 'Lack, to what end ? lost,

Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his friend: But that the heavens fought: The king himself For if he'll do, as he is made to do, Of his wings destitute, the army broken, I know, he'll quickly fly my friendship too. And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying You have put me into rhyme. Through a strait lane; the enemy full-hearted, Lord. Farewell, you are angry. (Erit. Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having Post. Still going?- This is a lord! O noble

misery! More plentiful than tools to do't, struck down To be i'the field, and ask, what news, of me! Some mortally, some slightly touch’d, some To-day, how many would have given their falling


[do't, Merely through fear; that the strait pass was To have sav'd their carcasses? took heel to With dead men, hurt behind, and cowards liv. And yet died too? I, in mine own woe charm'd. To die with lengthen'd shame.

[ing Could not find death, where I did hear him Lord, Where was this lane? Post. Close by the battle, ditch'd, and wall’d Nor feel him where he struck: Being an ugly with turf;


(beds, Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier;- 'Tis strange, be hides bim in fresh cups, soft An honest one, I warrant; who deserved Sweet words; or hath more ministers than we So long a breeding, as his white beard came to, That draw his knives i'the war. Well, I will In doing this for his country ;-athwart the

find him: lane,

For being now a favourer to the Roman, He, with two striplings, (lads more like to run No more a Briton, I have re-sum'd again The country base,t than to commit such slaugh- The part I came in: Fight I will no more, ter;

But yield me to the veriest hind, that shall [is With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter Than those for preservation cas'd, or shame,) Here made by the Roman; great the answer be Made good the passage ; cry'd to those that Britons must take; for me my ransom's death;

On either side I come to spend my breath, Our Britain's harts die flying, not our men: Which neither here I'll keep, nor bear again, To darkness fleet, souls that fly backwards! But end it by some means for Imogen.

Stand; Or we are Romans, and will give you that (sare, Enter two British CAPTAINS, and Soldiers. Like beasts, which you shun beastly; and may But to look back in frown: stand, stand.-These

1 Cap. Great Jupiter be prajs'd! Lucius is three,


(angels. Three thousand confident, in act as many,

'Tis thought, the old man and his sons were (For three performers are the file, when all

2 Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly

a That gave the affrontt with them. The rest do nomin8,) with Mis word, sand,

(habit, stand,

1 Cap. So 'tis reported : Accommodated by the place, more charming, Bu

charming | But none of them can be found.-Stand! who

is there? * Blocked up. + A country game called prison-bars, vulgarly prison-Dase,


+ Encounter,




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Post. A Roman;

| Whose father then (as men report, Who had not now been drooping here, if se- Thou orphans' father art, Had answer'd him.

[conds | Thou should'st have been, and shielded him 2 Cap. Lay handy on him; a dog!

From this earth-vexing smart. A leg of Rome shall not return to tell

Moth. Lucina lent not me her aid, What crows have peck'd them here: He brags But took me in my throes ; his service

That from me was Posthumus ript, As if he were of note: bring him to the king. Came crying 'mongst his foes,

A thing of pity! Enter CYMBELINE, attended; Belarius, Gui

Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry, DERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, Pisanio, and ROMAN

Moulded the stuff so fair, CAPTIVES. The CAPTAINS present Posthu

That he deserv'd the praise o'the world, MUS to CYMBELINE, who delivers him over to

As great Sicilius' heir. U JAILER: after which, all go out.

| 1 Bro. When once he was mature for man,

In Britain where was he
SCENE IV.-A Prison.

That could stand up his parallel ;

Or fruitful object be
Enter Posthumus, and two JAILERS.

In eye of Imogen, that best
1 Jail. You shall not now be stolen, you Could deem his dignity?
have looks upon you;

Moth. With marriage wherefore was he So, graze, as you find pasture.

To be exil'd and thrown [mock'd, 2 Jail. Ay, or a stomach. [Exeunt JAILERS. | From Leonati' seat, and cast Post. Most welcome, bondage! for thou art From her his dearest one,

Sweet Imogen?
I think, to liberty: Yet am I better

Sici, Why did you suffer lachimo,
Than one that's sick o'the gout: since he had Slight thing of Italy,
Groan so in perpetuity, than be curd (rather | To taint his nobler heart and brain
By the sure physician, death; who is the key

With needless jealousy;
To unbar these locks. My conscience! thou And to become the geck* and scorn
art fetter'd

O'the other's villany? More than my shanks, and wrists: You good

2 Bro. For this, from stiller seats we came, gods, give me

Our parents, and us twain,
The penitent instrument, to pick that bolt,

That, striking in our country's cause,
Then, free for ever! Is't enough, I am sorry? Fell bravely, and were slain;
So children temporal fathers do appease: Our fealty, and Tenantius' right,
Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent? With honour to maintain.
I cannot do it better than in gyves,*

1 Bre. Like hardiment Posthumus hath Desir'd, more than constrain'd: to satisfy,

To Cymbeline perform'd:
If of my freedom tis the main part, take Then Jupiter, thou king of gods,
No stricter render of me, than my all.

Why hast thou thus adjourn'd
I know, you are more clement than vile men, The graces for his merits due;
Who of their broken debtors take a third,

Being all to dolours turn'd? A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again

Sici. Thy crystal window ope; look out; On their abatement; that's not my desire:

No longer exercise, For Imogen's dear life, take mine; and though Upon a valiant race, thy harsh "Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coin'd it:

And potent injuries: "Tween man and man, they weigh not every Moth. Since, Jupiter, our son is good, stamp;

Take off his miseries. Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake: Sici. Peep through thy marble mansion; help! You rather mine, being yours: And so, great Or we poor ghosts will cry powers,

To the shining synod of the rest, If you will take this audit, take this life,

Against thy deity. And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen! 2 Bro. Help, Jupiter; or we appeal, I'll speak to thee in silence. [He sleeps. And from thy justice fly. Solemn music.t Enter, as an Apparition, SICI- Jupiter descends in Thunder and Lightning, sit

LIUS LEONATUS, Father to POSTHUMUS, an ting upon an Eagle: he throws a Thunder-bolt. old Man, attired like a Warrior; leading in his The Ghosts fall on their knees. hand an ancient Matron, his Wife, and Mother to POSTHUMUS, with music before them. Then, Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region after other music, follow the two young LEO


(ghosts, NATI, Brothers to POSTHUMUS, with Wounds, Offend our hearing; hush !How dare you as they died in the Wars. They circle POSTHU Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt you know, MUS round, as he lies sleeping

Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts?

Poor shadows of Elysium, hence, and rest Sici. No more, thou thunder master, show

Upon your never-withering banks of flowers: Thy spite on mortal flies:

Be not with mortal accidents opprest; With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,

No care of yours it is, you know, 'tis ours. That thy adulteries

Whom best I love, I cross; to make my gift, Rates and revenges.

The more delay'd, delighted. Be content; Hath my poor boy done aught but well,

| Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift : Whose face I never saw?

His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent. I died, whilst in the womb he stay'd

Our jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in Attending Nature's law.

Our temple was he married.-Rise, and

He shall be lord of lady Imogen, [fade! * Fetters, + This Scene is supposed not to be Shakspeare's, but foisted in by the Players for mere show.

The fool.


And happier much by his affliction made. what's past, is, and to come, the discharge : This tablet lay upon his breast; wherein Your neck, Sír, is pen, book, and counters;

Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine; so the acquittance follows.
And so, away: no further with your din Post. I am merrier to die, than thou art to

Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.- | live.
Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline. 1 Juil. Indeed, Sir, he that sleeps feels not the

(Ascends. tooth-ache : But a man that were to sleep your Sici. He came in thunder ; his celestial sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I breath

think, he would change places with his officer: Was sulphurous to smell: the holy eagle for, look you, Sir, you know not which way Stoop'd, as to foot us: his ascension is

you shall go. More sweet than our bless'd fields : his royal | Post. Yes, indeed, do I, fellow. bird

Jail. Your death has eyes in's head then; I Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak, have not seen him so pictured: you must either As when his god is pleas'd.

be directed by some that take upon them to AU. Thanks, Jupiter!

know; or take upon yourself that, which I am Sici. The marble pavement closes, he is ensure you do not know; or jump* the alter-inter'd

quiry on your own peril: and how you shall His radiant roof:-Away! and, to be blest, speed in your journey's end, I think you li Let us with care perform his great behest. never return to tell one.'

(Ghosts vanish. Post. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want Post. [Waking:] Sleep, thou hast been a eyes to direct them the way I am going, but grandsire, and begot

such as wink, and will not use them. A father to me: and thou hast created

Juil. What an infinite mock is this, that a A mother and two brothers: But (O scorn!) man should have the best use of eyes, to see Gone! they went hence so soon as they were the way of blindness! I am sure, hanging's born.

[pend the way of winking. And so I am awake.-Poor wretches that deOn greatness' favour, dream as I have done ;

Enter a MF.SSENGER. Wake, and find nothing.-But, alas, I swerve: Mess. Knock off his manacles; bring your Many dream not to find, neither deserve, prisoner to the king. And yet are steep'd in favours ; so am I, Post. Thou bringest good news;-I am called That have this golden chance, and know not to be made free. why.

Jail. I'll be hang’d then. What fairies haunt this ground ? A book ? 0, Post. Thou shall be then freer than a jailer; rare one!

no bolts for the dead. Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment

(Exeunt PostHUMUS and MESSENGER. Nobler than that it covers : let thy effects Jail. Unless a man would marry a gallows, So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers, and beget young gibbets, I never saw one so As good as promise.

prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are verier [Reads.) When as a lion's whelp shall, to him-knaves desire to live, for all he be a Roman:

self unknown, without seeking find, and be em- and there be some of them too, that die against braced by a piece of tender air ; and when from their wills; so should I, if I were one. I would a stately cedar shall be lopped branches, which, we were all of one mind, and one mind good; being dead many years, shall after revive, bé 10, there were desolation of jailers, and gal jointed to the olă stock, and freshly grow ; then lowses! I speak against my present profit; shall Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be but my wish hath a preferment in't. (Exeun. fortunate, and flourish in peace and plenty

SCENE V.-CYMBELINE's Tent. "Tis still a dream; or else such stuff as madmen

Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIES, Tongue, and brain not: either both, or nothing:

ARVIRAGUS, Pisanio, Lords, Officers, and Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such

As sense cannot untie. Be what it is,
The action of my life is like it, wbich

Cym. Stand by my side, you whom the gods I'll keep, if but for sympathy.

have made

Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart, Re-enter JAILERS.

That the poor soldier, that so richly fought, Jail. Come, Sir, are you ready for death?

Whose rags sham'd gilded arms, whose naked Post. Over-roasted rather: ready long ago.

breast Jail. Hanging is the word, Sir; if you bel Stepp'd before target of proof, cannot be found: ready for that, you are well cooked.

He shall be happy that can find him, if Post. So, if I prove a good repast to the

Our grace can make him so.

Bel. I never saw spectators, the dish pays the shot. *Jail. A heavy reckoning for you, Sir: But

Such noble fury in so poor a thing; [nought the comfort is, you shall be called to no more

Such precious deeds in one that promis'd payments, fear no more tavern bills; which But beggary and poor looks. are often the sadness of parting, as the pro

| Cym. No tidings of him?

Pis. He hath been search'd among the dead curing of mirth: you come in faint for want of meat," depart reeling with too much drink ;

and living,

But no trace of him. sorry that you have paid too much, and

Cym. To my grief, I am sorry that you are paid too much; purse and

The heir of his reward; which I will add brain both empty : the brain the heavier for being too light, the purse too light, being drawn

| To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain, of heaviness : O! of this contradiction you

(To BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS. shall now be quit.-0 the charity of a penny

By whom, I grant, she lives; 'Tis now the time cord! it sums up thousands in a trice : you

To ask of whence you are :-report it. have no true debitor and creditor but it; of Hazard, + Forward

Target, shield.

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Bel. Sir,

Of many a bold one; whose kinsmen have In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen:

[slaughter Further to boast, were neither true nor modest, That their good souls may be appeas'd with Unless I add, we are honest.

Of you their captives, which ourself have Cym. Bow your knees:

So, think of your estate.

[granted; Arise my knights o'the battle: I create you Luc. Consider, Sir, the chance of war: the Companions to our person, and will fit you

day With dignities becoming your estates.

Was yours by accident; had it gone with us,

We should not, when the blood was cool, have Enter CORNELIUS and LADIES.



Our prisoners with the sword. But since the There's business in these faces :- Why so sadly

Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives Greet you our victory? You look like Romans,

May be call'd ransom, let it come: sufficeth, And not o'the court of Britain.

A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer: Cor. Hail, great king!

Augustus lives to think on't: And so much To suur y appiness, I must report

For my peculiar care. This one thing only The queen is dead.. Cym. Whom worse than a physician

I will entreat; My boy, a Briton born,

Let him be ransom'd: never master had Would this report become? But I consider,

| A page so kind, so duteous, diligent, By medicine life may be prolong'd, yet death Will seize the doctor too.-How ended she?

So tender over his occasions, true, Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life;l With

So feat,* so nurse-like: let his virtue join Which, being cruel to the world, concluded

With my request, which, I'll make bold, your

highness Most cruel to herself. What she confess'd,

Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harm, I will report, so please you: These her women

Though he have serv'd a Roman: save him, Can trip me, if I err: who, with wet cheeks,

And spare no blood beside. Were present when she finish'd.

Cym. I have surely seen him: Cym. Pr'ythee, say.

His favourt is familiar to me.Cor. First, she confess'd she never lov'd

Boy, thou hast look'd thyself into my grace, you; only

And art mine own.-I know not why, nor Affected greatness got by you, not you:


[live: Married your royalty, was wife to your place; To sav live

To say, live, boy: ne'er thank thy master; Abhorr'd your person.

And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt, Cym. She alone knew this: And, but she spoke it dying, I would not

Fitting my bounty, and thy state, I'll give it;

| Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner, Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed.

The noblest ta'en. Cor. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand

Imo. I humbly thank your highness. to love

Luc. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad; With such integrity, she did confess

And yet, I know, thou wilt. Was as a scorpion to her sight; whose life,

Imo. No, no: alack, But that her flight prevented it, she had

There's other work in hand; I see a thing Ta'en off by poison.

Bitter to me as death: your life, good master, Cym. O most delicate fiend !

Must shuffle for itself. Who is't can read a woman ?-Is there more?

Luc. The boy disdains me,

[joys, Cor. More, Sir, and worse. She did confess,

He leaves me, scorns me: Briefly die their she had For you a mortal mineral; which, being took,

That place them on the truth of girls and Should by the minute feed on life, and,

Why stands he so perplex'd ? [boys.

Cym. What would'st thou, boy? (more ling'ring,

[pos’d, By inches waste you: In which time she pur- What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st

I love thee more and more; think more and

in By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to

on? speak, O’ercome you with her show:yes, and in time, | Wilt have him live í Is he thy kin? thy friend? (When she had fitted you with her craft,) to Imo. He is a Roman; no more kin to me, work .

Than I to your highness; who, being born your Her son into the adoption of the crown.

Am something nearer. But failing of her end by his strange absence,

(vassal, Grew shameless desperate ; open'd, in despite

Cym. Wherefore ey'st him so ?

Imo. I'll tell you, Sir, in private, if you please Of heaven and men, her purposes; reperted To give me hearing. The evils she hatch'd were not effected; so,

Cym. Ay, with all my heart, Despairing, died.

And lend my best attention. What's thy name? Cym. Heard you all this, her women? Lady. We did so, please your highness.

| Imo. Fidele, Sir.

Cym. Thou art my good youth, my page; Cym. Mine eyes Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;

I'll be thy master: Walk with me; speak freely.

(CYMBELINE and I MOGEN converse apart. Mine ears, that heard her fattery; nor my

Bel. Is not this boy reviv'd from death ? heart,


Ary. One sand another
That thought her like her seeming; it had been
To have mistrusted her: yet, O my daughter!

Not more resembles: That sweet rosy lad,

Who died, and was Fidele :- What think you? That it was folly in me, thou may'st say,

Gui. The same dead thing alive. And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all!

Bel. Peace, peace! see further; he eyes us Enter Lucius, IACHIMO, the SOOTHSAYER, and

not; forbear; other Roman Prisoners, guarded; PosthuMUS

Creatures may be alike: were't he, I am sure

He would have spoke to us. behind, and Imogen.

Gui. But we saw him dead. Thou com’st not, Caius, now for tribute; that

Bel. Be silent; let's see further. The Britons have raz'd out, though with the

Pis. It is my mistress :

[Aside. loss

* Ready, dextrous.

+ Countenance,

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Since she is living, let the time run on, Made scruple of his praise; and wager'd with To good, or bad.

him (Cymbeling and IMOGEN come forward. Pieces of gold, 'gainst this which then be ware Cym. Come, stand thou by our side; Upon his honour'd finger, to attain Make thy demand aloud.Sir, (To Iach.) step In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring you forth;

| By hers and mine adultery: he, true knight, Give answer to this boy, and do it freely; No lesser of her honour confident Or, by our greatness, and the grace of it, Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring; Which is our honour, bitter torture shall And would so, had it been a carbuncle Winnow the truth from falsehood.-On, speak Of Phoebus' wheel; and might so safely, had it to him.

Been all the worth of his car. Away ta Imo. My boon is, that this gentleman may

Britain Of whom he had this ring.

(render Post I in this design: Well may you, Sir, Post. What's that to him?

( Aside. Remember me at court, where I was taught Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say, Of your chaste daughter the wide difference How came it yours?

"Twixt amorous and villanous. Being thes Tach. Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken

quench'd Which, to be spoke, would torture thee."(that of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain Cym. How! me?

'Gan in your duller Britain operate läch. I am glad to be constrain'd to utter Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent; that which

| And, to be brief, my practice so prevail'd, Torments me to conceal. By villany

That I returo'd with simular proof enough I got this ring; 'twas Leonatus' jewel :

To make the noble Leonatus mad, Whom thou didst banish; and (which more By wounding his belief in her renown may grieve thee,

With tokens thus, and thus; averring notes As it doth me,) a nobler Sir ne'er liv'd

Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her brace"Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, . let, my lord ?

(0, cupping, how I got it!) nay, some marks Cym. All that belongs to this.

Of secret on her person, that he could not Täch. That paragon, thy daughter,-- | But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd, For whom my heart drops blood, and my false I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon,spirits

Methinks, I see him now, Quail* to remember,Give me leave; I faint. Post. Ay, so thou dost, (Coming forward. Cym. My daughter! what of heri Renew Italian fiend !-Ah me, most credulous fool, thy strength:

[will, Egregious murderer, thief, any thing I had rather thou should'st live while nature That's due to all the villains past, in being, Than die ere I hear more : strive man, and speak. To come!–0, give me cord, or knife,or poison,

luch. Upon a time, (unhappy was the clock Some upright justicer! Thou, king, send out That struck the hour!) it was in Rome, (ac-For torturers ingenious: it is I curs'd

'would | That all the abhorred things o'the earth annend, The mansion where!) 'twas at a feast, (O By being worse than they. I am Posthumus, Our viands had been poison'd! or at least, That kill'd thy daughter:- villain like, I lie; Those which I heav'd to head !) the good That caus'd a lesser villain than myself, Posthumus,

A sacrilegious thief, to do't:--the temple
(What should I say? he was too good to be Of virtue was she; yea, and she herself.*
Where ill men were; and was the best of all Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
Amongst the rar'st of good ones,) sitting sadly, The dogs o'the street to bay me: every villan
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy

Be call'd Posthumus Leonatus ; and
For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast Be villany less than 'twas! O Imogen!
Of him that best could speak; for feature, My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen,

[erva, Imogen, Imogen!
The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Min- Imo. Peace, my lord; hear, hear-
Postures beyond brief nature; for condition, Post. Shall's have a play of this? Thou
A shop of all the qualities that man

scornful page, Loves woman for; besides, that hook of wiving, There lie thy part. [Striking her: she falls. Fairness which strikes the eye :

Pis. O gentlemen, help, help [húmus! Cym. I stand on fire:

Mine, and your mistress :-0, my lord PostCome to the matter. Iach. All too soon I shall,

Mine honour'd lady!

[help! Unless thou would'st grieve quickly. This Cym. Does the world go round? Posthumus,

Post. How come these staggers on me? (Most like a noble lord in love, and one

Pis. Wake, my mistress? That had a royal lover,) took his hint;

Cym. If this be so, the gods do mean to And, not dispraising whom he prais'd, (therein

strike me He was as calm as virtue) he began

To death with mortal joy. His mistress' picture; which by his tongue be- Pis. How fares my mistress? ing made,

Imo. O, get thee from my sight; And then a mind put in't, either our brags Thou gav'st me poison : dangerous fellow, Were crack'd of kitchen trulls, or his descrip- Breathe not where princes are.

Thence! Prov'd us unspeaking sots.

[tion Cym. The tune of Imogen! Cym. Nay, nay, to the purpose.

Pis. Lady, lach. Your daughter's chastity-there it be- The gods throw stones of sulphur on me, if gins.

That box I gave you was not thought by me He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams, A precious thing; I had it from the queen. And she alone were cold: Whereat, I, wretch!! Cym. New matter still? • Sink into dejection.

* Not only the temple of virtue, but virtue hersell

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