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Dramatis Perfonæ.

CYMBELINE, King of Britaine.
Cloten, Son to the Queen by a former Husband,
Laonatus Posthumus, a Gentleman in love with the

Princess, and privately married to her,
Guiderius

, Disguised under the names of Poladour and Arviragus,

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Cadwal, supposed Sons to Belarius. Belarius, a banish'd Lord, disguis’d under the name of

Morgan.
Philario, an Italian, Friend to Posthumus.
Iachimo, Friend to Philario.
Caius Lucius, Ambasador from Rome.
Pisanio, Servant to Posthumus.
A French Gentleman, Friend to Philario.
Cornelius, a Doctor, Servant to the Queen.
Two Gentlemen.

Queen, Wife to Cymbeline.
Imogen, Daughter to Cymbeline by a former Queen.
Helen, Woman to Imogen.

Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, Ghosts, a

Soothsayer, Captains, Soldiers, Mesengers, and other Attendants.

SCE N E, sometimes in Britaine; Sometimes in

Italy.

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A CT I. SC E N E I.
Cymbeline's Palace in Britaine.

Enter two Gentlemen.
ii. 1 GENTLEMAN,

Our
You do not meet a man, but frowns :
No more obey the heavens than our courtiers;
But seem, as does the King's.

2 Gent. But what's the matter ?
i Gent. His daughter, and the heir of's Kingdom,

(whom,
He purpos'd to his wife's sole fon, a widow
That late he married) hath referr'd herself
Unto a poor, but worthy, gentleman.
She's wedded ;
Her hulband banishd; she imprison'd: All
Is outward sorrow, though, I think, the King
Be touch'd at very heart.
2 Gent. None but the King ?

(Queen, 1 Gent. He, that hath lost her, too: so is the That most desir'd the match. But not a courtier, (Although they wear their faces to the bent Of the King's look) but hath a heart that is Glad at the thing they scoul at. 2 Gent. And why so?

our bloods, No more obey the heavens, &c.] The Thought is this, we are not now (as we were wont) influenced by the weather but by the King's Looks. We no more obey the heavens than our Courtiers obey the Heavens. By which it appears, that the reading—our bloods is wrong. We should read therefore,

--our brows No more obey the heavens, &c.

Warb. Vol. VIII,

I Gent.

i Gent. He that hath miss'd the Princess, is a thing Too bad for bad report: and, he that hath her, (I mean that marry'd her, alack, good man ! And therefore banishd) is a creature such, As, to seek through the regions of the earth For one, his like, there would be something failing In him that should compare. I do not think, So fair an outward, and such stuff within Endows a man but him

2 Gent. You speak him far.

i Gent. I don't extend him, Sir: Within himself Crush him together, rather than unfold His measure fully.

2 Gent. What's his name and birth ?

i Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: his father Was called Sicillius, who did join his honour Against the Romans, with Caffibelan; But had his titles by Tenantius, whom He fery'd with glory and admir'd success; So gain'd the sur-addition, Leonatus : And had, besides this gentleman in question, Two other sons ; who, in the wars o'th' time, Dy'd with their swords in hand: For which, their

father, (Then old and fond of iffue) took such sorrow, That he quit Being; and his gentle lady, Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceas'd, As he was born. The King, he takes the babe To his protection, calls him Posthumus, Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber : Puts to him all the Learnings that his time Could make him the receiver of, which he took As we do air, fait as 'twas ministred. His spring became a haryeft: liv'd in Court (Which rare it is to do.) most prais'd, most lov’d, A sample to the young'st; to th' inore mature, A glass that featur'd them; and to the graver A child that guided dotards. To his mistress,

(For

(For whom he now is banish'd) her own price
Proclaims, how she esteem'd him and his virtue.
By her election may be truly read,
What kind of man he is.

& Gent. I honour him, ev'n out of your report." But lell ine, is she fole child to the King?

i Gent, His only child. He had two sons, (if this be worth your hearing Mark it;) the eldest of them at three years old, I'th' swathing clothes the other, from their nursery Were toll'n; and to this hour, no guess in knowledge Which way they went.

2 Gent. How long is this ago ? 1 Gent. Some twenty years.

(vey'd, 2 Gent. That a King's children should be so conSo flackly guarded, and the search fo flow That could not trace them,

i Gent. Howfoe'er 'tis ftrange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at, Yet is it true, Sir. 2 Gent. I do well believe you.

man, i Gent. We must forbear. Here comes the GentleThe Queen, and Princess.

[Exeunt.

Queen. No

S CE N E II. Enter the Queen, Posthumus, Imogen, and attendants.

O, be afsur'd, you shall not find me,

daughter, After the slander of most step-mothers, I'll-ey'd unto you: You're my pris'ner, but Your goaler shall deliver you the keys That lock up your reftraint. For you, Posthumus, So soon as I can win th' offended King, I will be known your advocate : marry, yet, The fire of rage is in him; and 'twere good, You lean'd unto his Sentence, with what patience Your wisdom may inform you.

Post.

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Post. Please your Highness, I will from hence to-day.

Queen. You know the peril: I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying The pangs of barr'd affections ; though the KingHath charg'd, you should not speak together. (Exit.

Imo. Dissembling courtesy! how fine this tyrant
Can tickle, where the wounds! My deareft husband,
I something fear my father's wrath, but nothing
(Always reserv'd my holy duty) what
His rage can do on me.

You must be gone,
And I shall here abide the hourly shot
Of angry eyes:

: not comforted to live, But that there is this jewel in the world, That I may see again.

Poft. My Queen! my Mistress ! O lady, weep no more, left I give cause To be suspected of more tenderness Than doth become a man. I will remain The loyal'st husband, that did e'er plight troth; My residence in Rome, at one Philario's; Who to my father was a friend, to me Known but by letter; thither write, my Queen, And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send, Though ink be made of gall.

Re-enter Queen. Queen. Be brief, I pray you ; If the King come, I lhall inçur I know not How much of his displeasure yet I'll move him

(Aside. To walk this way; I never do him wrong, But he does buy my injuries : to be friends, Pays dear for my offences.

(Exit. Post. Should we be taking leave, As long a term as yet we have to live, The lothness to depart would grow :----adieu ! Imo. Nay, slay a little

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