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ACT I.

SCENE I-Britain. The garden behind Cym-
beline's palace. Enter Two Gentlemen.
1 Gentleman.

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.
But what's the matter?
2 Gent.
1 Gent. His daughter, and the heir of his king-
dom, whom

He purpos'd 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.
None but the king?

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

His measure duly.3
What's his name, and birth?
2 Gent.
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,4 whom
He serv'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'the time,
Died with their swords in hand; for which then
father

(Then old and fond of issue,) took such sorrow,
That he quit being; and his gentle lady,
Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceas'd
To his protection; calls him Posthumus;
As he was born. The king, he takes the babe
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,
In his spring became a harvest: Liv'd in court,
As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd; and

That most desir'd the match: But not a courtier,(Which rare it is to do,) most prais'd, most lov'd
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.

And why so?
2 Gent.
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 dike, there would be something failing
I do not think
In him that should compare.

So fair an outward, and such stuff within,
Endows a man but he.

2 Gent.

You speak him far.2
1 Gent. I do extend him, sir, within himself;
Crush him together, rather than unfold

(1) Inclination, natural disposition.
(2) i. e. You praise him extensively.

(3) My praise, however extensive, is within his

merit.

VOL. II

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
By her election may be truly read,
Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue;
What kind of man he is.

2 Gent.

I honour him
But, 'pray you, tell me,

Even out of your report.
Is she sole child to the king?

1 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'the swathing clothes the other, from their nursery
Were stolen: and to this hour, no guess in knowledge
Which way they went.

2 Gent.

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

(4) The father of Cymbeline.
(5) Formed their manners.

2 Gent. That a king's children should be so con- || You gentle gods, give me but this I have,
vey'd!

So slackly guarded! And the search so slow,
That could not trace them!
1 Gent.

Howsoe'er 'tis strange,
Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,
Yet is it true, sir.
2 Gent.

I do well believe

you.

1 Gent. We must forbear: Here comes the queen, and princess.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same. Enter the Queen, Posthumus, and Imogen.

Queen. No, be assur'd, you shall not find me,
daughter,

After the slander of most step-mothers,
Evil-ey'd unto you: you are my prisoner, but
Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys

That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
So soon as I can win the 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.

I will from hence to-day.
Queen.

Please your highness,

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

Imo.

[Exit Queen.
0,
Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant
Can tickle where she wounds!-My dearest hus-
band,

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.

Post.
My queen! my mistress!
O, lady, weep no more; lest 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 shall incur 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 loathness to depart would grow: Adieu!
Imo. Nay, stay a little:

Were you but riding forth to air yourself,
Such parting were too petty. Look here, love;
This diamond was my mother's: take it, heart;
But keep it till you woo another wife,
When Imogen is dead.
Post.

And sear up my embracements from a next
With bonds of death!-Remain thou here

[Putting on the ring.
While sense2 can keep it on! And sweetest, fairest,
As I my poor self did exchange for you,
To your so infinite loss; so, in our trifles
I still win of you: For my sake, wear this;
It is a manacle of love; I'll place it
Upon this fairest prisoner.

Imo.

[Putting a bracelet on her arm. O, the gods!

When shall we see again?

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Out of your best advice.8
Cym.

Nay, let her languish

How! how! another?-A drop of blood a day; and, being aged,

(1) Close up.

(2) Sensation. (4) A more exquisite ferling

(3) Fill. (5) Only.

(6) A kite.
8) Consideration.

(7) Cattle-keeper's.

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