Pisan. 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 are happy, (which you'll make him know,

If that his head have ear in music) doubtless, With joy he will embrace you; for he's honourable, And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad You have me, rich; and I will never fail Beginning, nor supplyment.

5

10

Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.
Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the emperos
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
His war for Britain.
[moves

Queen. 'Tis not sleepy business;

But must be look'd to speedily, and strongly. Cym. Our expectation that it should be thus, Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd The duty of the day: She looks us like 15A thing more made of malice than of duty; We have noted it.-Call her before us; for We have been too light in sufferance.

Imo. Thou art all the comfort The gods will diet me with. Pr'ythee, away: There's more to be consider'd; but we'll 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 pr'ythee. Pisan. Well, madam, we must take a short fareLest, 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 drain 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.

SCENE

[Exit a Servant. Queen. Royal sir, Since the exile of Posthumus, most retir'd 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, 25 And strokes death to her.

V.

The Palace of Cymbeline.

Re-enter the Servant.

Cymb. Where is she, sir? How Can her contempt be answer'd? Serv. Please you, sir,

{swer

Cym. Our subjects, sir,

Luc. Sir, the event

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
Made me to blame in memory.

40. Cym. Her doors lock'd?

[fear,

Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that, which I

Prove false!

[Exit.

Queen. Son, I say, follow the king.

Clot. That man of hers, Pisanio her old servant, I have not seen these two days. Queen. Go, look after.

[Exit.

145

50

Clot. 'Tis all the better;

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, [her:
Where is she gone? Haply, despair hath seiz'd
Or, wing'd with fervour of her love, she's flown
To her desir'd 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?

Clot. 'Tis certain, she is fled:

Go in, and cheer the king; he rages, none Dare come about him.

? i, e. I have

Дисеп

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 judgement,
That what's else rare, is choak'd; and, in that
I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed, [point,
To be reveng'd upon her. For, when fools
Enter Pisanio.

Shall-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.

Pisan. O, good my lord!

Clot. Where is thy lady? or, by Jupiter,

I will not ask again. Close villain,

I'll 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.

Pisan. Alas, my lord,

Clot. Give me thy hand, here's my purse. Hast any of thy late master's garments in thy possession? Pisan. I have, my lord, at my lodging, the 10 same suit he wore when he took leave of my lady and mistress.

15

Clot. The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit hither: let it be thy first service; go. Pisan. I shall, my lord.

[Erit. Clot. Meet thee at Milford-Haven: forgot to ask him one thing; I'll 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 20belch from my heart) that she held the very gar

ment 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 25 eyes; there shall she see my valour, which will then be a torment 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 30 the clothes that she so prais'd) to the court I'll knock her back, foot her home again. She hath despis'd me rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in my

revenge.

Re-enter Pisanio, with the clothes. 35 Be those the garments?

40

Pisan. Ay, my noble lord.

Clot. How long is 't since she went to MilfordHaven?

Pisan. She can scarce be there yet.

Clot. 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 45 at Milford; would I had wings to follow it!Come, and be true.

[Exit. Pisan. Thou bidd'st me to my loss: for, true to thee,

Were to prove false, which I will never be,

Flow,

Safe may'st thou wander, safe return again! Clot. Sirrah, is this letter true?

Pisan. Sir, as I think.

SCENE VI.

The Forest and Cave.

Enter Imogen, in boy's clothes.

Imo. I see, a man's life is a tedious one:

I have tir'd 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 Pisanio shew'd thee, Thou wast within a ken: Joye ! I think,

Foundations

Foundations fly the wretched: such, I mean, Where they should be reliev'd. Two beggars

told me,

I could not miss my way: Will poor folk lye, That have afflictions on them; knowing 'tis A punishment, or trial? Yes: no wonder, When rich ones scarce tell true: Tolapse in fullness Is sorer', than to lye in need; and falsehood Is worse in kings, than beggars.-My dear lord!| *Thou art one of the false ones: Now I think on 10

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 it: '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 lend3.-Ho!-No answer; then

enter.

15

Imo. I see, you are angry:

Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should
Have dy'd, had I not made it.
Bel. Whither bound?
Imo. To Milford-Haven.
Bel. What's your name?

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

Bel. Pr'ythee, fair youth,

Best draw my sword; and if mine enemy
But fear the sword like me,he'll scarcely look on't.
Such a foe, good heavens! [She goes into the cave.
Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.
Bel. You, Polydore, have prov'd best wood-
man, and

Are master of the feast: 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 keeps thyself!

[tite.

Guid. I am thoroughly weary.
Arv. I am weak with toil, yet strong in appe-
Guid. There is cold meat i' the cave; we'll
brouze on that,

Whilst what we have kill'd be cook'd.

Bel. Stay; come not in:

30

Guid. Were you a woman, youth,

[nesty

I should woo hard, but be your groom.-In hobid for you, as I'd buy.

Arv. I'll make 't my comfort,

He is a man; I'll love him as my brother:

And such a welcome as I'd give to him,

After long absence, such is yours:-Most welBe sprightly, for you fall 'mongst friends. [come! Imo. 'Mongst friends!

If brothers? Would it had been so,that

[Looking in.

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

Guid. What's the matter, sir?

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

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: [had found

good troth,

I have stolen nought; nor would not, though I Gold strew'd o' the floor. Here's money for my

meat :

I would have left it on the board, so soon

Bel. He wrings at some distress.

Guid. 'Would, I could free't!

Arv. Or I; whate'er it be,

What pain it cost, what danger! Gods!

Bel. Hark, boys.

Imo. Great men,

Aside.

[Whispering.

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155

Bel. It shall be so :

[in! Boys, we'll go dress our hunt.-Fair youth, come Discourse is heavy, fasting: when we have supp'd, We'll mannerly demand thee of thy story, So far as thou wilt speak it.

Guid. Pray, draw near. [lark, less welcome. Arv. The night to the owl, and morn to the 3 Dr. Johnson suspects