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Which once a day with his embossed* froth
The turbulent surge shall cover; thither come,
And let my grave-stone be your oracle,-
Lips, let sour words go by, and language end:
What is amiss, plague and infection mend!

Graves only be men's works; and death, their gain!

Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign. [Exit TIMON. 1 Sen. His discontents are unremoveably

Coupled to nature.

2 Sen. Our hope in him is dead: let us return,

And strain what other means is left unto us

In our deart peril.

1 Sen. It requires swift foot.

SCENE III-The Walls of Athens.

Enter two SENATORS, and a MESSENGER.

1 Sen. Thou hast painfully discover'd; are his files As full as thy report?

Mess. I have spoke the least: Besides, his expedition promises

Present approach.

[Exeunt.

2 Sen. We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon. Mess. I met a courier, one mine ancient friend;

Whom, though in general part we were opposed,

Yet our old love made a particular force,

And made us speak like friends:-this man was riding
From Alcibiades to Timon's cave,

With letters of entreaty, which imported

His fellowship i' the cause against your city,
In part for his sake moved.

Enter SENATORS from TIMON

1 Sen. Here come our brothers.

2 Sen. No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect.The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring Doth choke the air with dust: in and prepare ; Ours is the fall, I fear, our foes the snare.

SCENE IV.-The Woods.

[Exeunt.

TIMON'S Cave, and a Tomb-stone

seen.

Enter a SOLDIER, seeking TIMON.

Sol. By all description, this should be the place.

Who's here? speak, ho!-No answer ?-What is this?
Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span:

Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a man.

Dead, sure; and this his grave.

What's on this tomb I cannot read; the character
I'll take with wax.

Our captain hath in every figure skill;

An aged interpreter, though young in days:
Before proud Athens he's set down by this,
Whose fall the mark of his ambition is.

[blocks in formation]

Exit

I. e. his army as large.

SCENE V-Before the Walls of Athens.
Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES, and Forces.
Alcib. Sound to this coward and lascivious town
Our terrible approach.

A parley sounded.

Enter SENATORS on the Walls.
Till now you have gone on, and fill'd the time
With all licentious measure, making your wills
The scope of justice; till now, myself, and such
As slept within the shadow of your power,

Have wander'd with our traversed arms,* and breathed
Our sufferance vainly: Now the time is flush,†
When crouching marrow, in the bearer strong,
Cries, of itself, No more: now breathless wrong,,
Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease;
And pursy insolence shall break his wind,
With fear and horrid flight.

1 Sen. Noble and young,

When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit,
Ere thou hadst power, or we had cause of fear,
We sent to thee; to give thy rages balm,
To wipe out our ingratitude with loves
Above their quantity.

2 Sen. So did we woo

Transformed Timon to our city's love,

By humble message, and by promised means;
We were not all unkind, nor all deserve
The common stroke of war.

1 Sen. These walls of ours

Were not erected by their hands, from whom

You have received your griefs: nor are they such,

Than these great towers, trophies, and schools should fall

For private faults in them.

2 Sen. Nor are they living,

Who were the motives that you first went out;

Shame that they wanted cunning, in excess

Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord,

Into our city with thy banners spread :

By decimation, and a tithed death

(If thy revenges hunger for that food,

Which nature loathes), take thou the destined tenth;
And by the hazard of the spotted die,

Let die the spotted.

1 Sen. All have not offended;

For those that were, it is not square, to take,
On those that are, revenges: crimes, like lands,
Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman,
Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage:
Spare thy Athenian cradle, and those kin,
Which, in the bluster of thy wrath, must fall,
With those that have offended: like a shepherd,
+ Mature.

*Arms across.

+ Equitable.

Approach the fold, and cull the infected forth,
But kill not all together.

2 Sen. What thou wilt,

Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile,
Than hew to't with thy sword.

1 Sen. Set but thy foot

Against our rampired gates, and they shall ope;
So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before,
To say, thou❜lt enter friendly.

2 Sen. Throw thy glove;

Or any token of thine honour else,

That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress,
And not as our confusion, all thy powers
Shall make their harbour in our town, till we
Have seal'd thy full desire.

Alcib. Then there's my glove;

Descend, and open your uncharged ports;
Those enemies of Timon's, and mine own,
Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof,
Fall, and no more: and,-to atone † your fears
With my more noble meaning,—not a man
Shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream
Of regular justice in your city's bounds,
But shall be render'd to your public laws
At heaviest answer.

Both. 'Tis most nobly spoken.

Alcib. Descend, and keep your words.

The SENATORS descend, and open the Gates.
Enter a SOLDIER.

Sol. My noble general, Timon is dead;

Entomb'd upon the very hem o' the sea:

And on his grave-stone, this insculpture; which

With wax I brought away, whose soft impression

Interprets for my poor ignorance.

Alcib. [reads]. Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft:

Seek not my name: A plague consume you wicked caitiffs left! Here lie I, Timon; who, alive, all living men did hate:

Pass by, and curse thy fill; but pass, and stay not here thy gait.

These well express in thee thy latter spirits:

Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs,

Scorn'dst our brain's flow, ‡ and those our droplets which

From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit

Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye

On thy low grave, on faults forgiven

Is noble Timon; of whose memory

Dead

Hereafter more.-Bring me into your city

And I will use the olive with my sword:

Make war breed peace; make peace stint § war; make each

Prescribe to other, as each other's leech.

Let our drums strike.

* Unattacked gates.

[Exeunt.

+ Reconcile.

I. e. our tears.

Stop.

|| Physician.

CYMBELINE.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

CYMBELINE, King of Britain. CLOTEN, Son to the Queen by a former husband.

LEONATUS POSTHUMUS, a Gentleman, Husband to Imogen. BELARIUS, a banished Lord, disguised under the name of Morgan. GUIDERIUS, Sons to Cymbeline, ARVIRAGUS, I disguised under the names of POLYDORE and CADWAL, supposed sons to Belarius. PHILARIO, Friend to

}

Posthumus, IACHIMO, Friend to Philario,

Italians.

A FRENCH GENTLEMAN, Friend
to Philario.

CAIUS LUCIUS, General of the
Roman Forces.

A ROMAN CAPTAIN.

Two BRITISH CAPTAINS.
PISANIO, Servant to Posthumus.
CORNELIUS, a Physician.
Two GENTLEMEN.
Two JAILERS.

QUEEN, Wife to Cymbeline. IMOGEN, Daughter to Cymbeline, by a former Queen.

HELEN, Woman to Imogen.

LORDS, LADIES, Roman SENATORS, TRIBUNES, APPARITIONS, a SOOTHSAYER, a Dutch GENTLEMAN, a Spanish GENTLEMAN, MUSICIANS, OFFICERS, CAP. TAINS, SOLDIERS, MESSENGERS, and other ATTENDANTS.

SCENE.-Sometimes in Britain; sometimes in Italy.

ACT I.

SCENE I-Britain. The Garden behind CYMBELINE'S

Palace.

Enter two GENTLEMEN.

1 Gent. You do not meet a man, but frowns: our bloods No more obey the heavens, than our courtiers;

Still seem, as does the king's.*

2 Gent. But what's the matter?

1 Gent. His daughter, and the heir of his kingdom, whom He purposed to his wife's sole son (a widow,

That late he married), hath referr'd herself

Unto a poor but worthy gentleman: She's wedded;
Her husband banish'd; she imprison'd: all

Is outward sorrow; though I think, the king

Be touch'd at very heart.

2 Gent. None but the king?

1 Gent. He, that hath lost her, too: so is the queen,

That most desired the match: But not a courtier,

* This difficult passage should, I think, be construed thus: our counte. nances, regulated by the blood, do not obey natural impulses, but, as cour tiers, imitate that of the king.

Although they wear their faces to the bent
Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not
Glad at the thing they scowl at.

2 Gent. And why so?

1 Gent. He that hath miss'd the princess, is a thing
Too bad for bad report: and he that hath her
(I mean, that married her,-alack, good man!—
And therefore banish'd) 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 he.

2 Gent. You speak him far.*

1 Gent. I do extend him, Sir, within himself; Crush him together, rather than unfold His measure duly.†

2 Gent. What's his name and birth?

1 Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: His father

Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honour,

Against the Romans, with Cassibelan;
But had his titles by Tenantius, whom
He served with glory and admired success:
So gain'd the sur-addition, Leonatus:
And had, besides this gentleman in question,
Two other sons, who, in the wars o' the time,

Died with their swords in hand; for which their father
(Then old and fond of issue) took such sorrow,
That he quit being; and this gentle lady,
Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceased
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 him to all the learnings that his time
Could make him the receiver of; which he took,
As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd; and
In his spring became a harvest: Lived in court
(Which rare it is to do), most praised, most loved:
A sample to the youngest; to the more mature,
A glass that feated § them; and to the graver,
A child that guided dotards: to his mistress,
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.

2 Gent. I honour him

Even out of your report. But, 'pray you, tell me,
Is she sole child to the king?

1 Gent. His only child.

He had two sons (if this be worth your hearing,

* Praise him extensively.

The father of Cymbeline.

† My praise is within his mertt.

§ I. e. a model that formed their manners.

As to.

1

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