The riches of it. Do his Bidding, ftrike;
Thou may'st be valiant in a better cause,
But now thou feem'ft a coward.
Pif. Hence, vile instrument!
Thou shalt not damn my hand.
Imo. Why, I must die;

And, if I do not by thy hand, thou art
No fervant of thy mafter's.

'Gainft self-slaughter

There is a prohibition fo divine,

That cravens my weak hand : come, here's my

heart

(Something's afore't-soft, foft, we'll no defence;

[Opening her breast.

Obedient as the fcabbard !-What is here ?

The Scriptures of the loyal Leonatus

All turn'd to Herefie? away, away,

[Pulling his letters out of her bosom.

Corrupters of my faith! you shall no more

Be ftomachers to my heart: thus may poor fools
Believe falfe teachers: tho' thofe, that are betray'd,
Do feel the treafon fharply, yet the traitor
Stands in worse cafe of woe. And thou, Pofthumus,
That fet my disobedience 'gainst the King,
And mad'ft me put into contempt the fuits
Of princely fellows, fhalt hereafter find,
It is no act of common paffage, but
A strain of rareness: and I grieve my felf,
To think, when thou shalt be dif-edg'd by her
Whom now thou tir'ft on, how thy memory

Will then be pang'd by me.-Pr'ythee, dispatch;
The lamb entreats the butcher. Where's thy knife
Thou art too flow to do thy master's bidding,
When I defire it too.

Pif. O gracious lady!

Since I receiv'd command to do this business,

I have not flept one wink.

Imo. Do't, and to bed then.

Pif. I'll break mine eye-balls first.
Imo. Ah, wherefore then

Didft undertake it? why haft thou abus'd

So

So many miles, with a pretence? this place?
Mine action? and thine own? our horfes' labour?
The time inviting thee? the perturb'd Court,
For my being absent ? whereunto I never
Purpose Return. Why haft thou gone so far,
To be unbent, when thou haft ta'en thy ftand,
Th' elected deer before thee?

Pif. But to win time

To lofe fo bad employment, in the which
I have confider'd of a courfe; good lady,
Hear me with patience.

Imo. Talk thy tongue weary, speak,
I've heard, I am a ftrumpet; and mine ear
(Therein falfe ftruck) can take no greater wound,
Nor tent to bottom That. But, fpeak.

Pif. Then, Madam,

I thought, you would not back again.
Imo. Moft like,

Bringing me here to kill me.

Pif. Not fo neither;

But if I were as wife as honeft, then

My purpose would prove well; it cannot be,
But that my mafter is abus'd; fome villain,
And fingular in his art, hath done you both
This curfed injury.

Imo. Some Roman Curtezan

Pif. No, on my life.

I'll give him notice you are dead, and send him
Some bloody fign of it: for "tis commanded,

I fhould do fo. You fhall be mifs'd at Court,
And that will well confirm it.

Imo. Why, good fellow,

What fhall I do the while? where 'bide? how live? Or in my life what comfort, when I am

Dead to my husband ?

Pif. If you'll back to th' Court

Imo. No Court, no Father; nor no more ado With that harfh, noble, fimple, Nothing, Clotea: That Cloten, whofe love-fuit hath been to me As fearful as a fiege.

Hath Britaine all the Sun that shines? Day, night,
Are they not but in Britaine? I'th' world's volume
Our Britaine seems as of it, but not in it;

In a great pool, a fwan's neft.
There's living out of Britaine.
Pif. I'm moft glad,

Pr'ythee, think,

You think of other place: th' Ambassador,

Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford-Haven

To morrow. (15) Now, if you could wear a Mien
Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
That, which, t'appear it felf, muft not yet be,
But by felf-danger; you fhould tread a course
Pretty, and full of view; yea, haply, near
The refidence of Pofthumus; fo nigh, at least,
That though his actions were not visible,
Report fhould render him hourly to your ear,
As truly as he moves.

Imo. Oh! for fuch means,

(Though peril to my modefty, not death on't) I would adventure.

Pif. Well then, here's the point:

You must forgot to be a woman; change
Command into obedience; fear and nicenefs
(The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
Woman its pretty felf,) to waggish courage;
Ready in gybes, quick-answer'd, fawcy, and

(15)

Now, if you could wear a Mind

Dark as your Fortune is,] But the Disguise of her Perfon is the only Thing which Pifanio is here advifing; not that She fhould ftifle any Qualifications or Beauties of her Mind. I therefore think, we may safely read;

Now, if you could wear a Mien

Dark as your Fortune is,

Or, according to the French Orthography, from whence, I pre

fume, arofe the Corruption;

Now, if you could wear a Mine,

Mr. Warburton..

Ast

As quarrellous as the weazel: (16) nay, you must
Forget that rareft treafure of your cheek;
Expofing it (but, oh, the harder Hap!
Alack, no remedy) to the greedy touch
Of common-kiffing Titan; and forget
Your labourfome and dainty trims, wherein
You made great Juno angry.

Imo. Nay, be brief:

I fee into thy end, and am almost
A man already.

Pif. First, make your felf but like one.
Fore-thinking this, I have already fit,

('Tis in my cloak-bag) doublet, hat, hofe, all
That answer to them. 'Would you in their ferving,
And with what Imitation you can borrow
From youth of fuch a season, 'fore noble Lucius
Prefent your felf, defire his fervice, (17) tell him

Wherein

(16)

-nay, you must

Forget that rareft Treasure of your Cheek;
Expofing it, (but oh the harder Heart,

Alack no Remedy.] Now, who does This harder Heart relate to Pofthumus is not here talk'd of, befides, he knew Nothing of her being thus expos'd to the Inclemencies of Weather: He had enjoyn'd a Course, which would have fecur'd her from these incidental Hardships. I think, common Sense obliges us to read:

But, oh, the harder Hap!

i. e. the more cruel your Fortune, that you must be oblig❜d to fuch Shifts. Mr. Warburton.

(17)

tell him,

Wherein you're happy, which will make him know,

If that his Head have ear in Mufick, doubtless

With joy he will embrace you ;] Thus, all the Editions: But, furely, the Passage is faulty both in the Text and Pointing. Which will make him know, what? What Connection has This with the Reft of the Sentence? Shakespeare can't be fufpected, certainly, of fo bald a Meaning as this; If you'll tell him wherein you are happy, That will make hire know wherein you're happy: and yet, This is the only Meaning, I think, the Words can carry, as they now ftand. I take the Poet's Senfe to be This. Pifania

Wherein you're happy; (which will make him fo,
If that his head have ear in mufick ;) doubtless,
With joy he will embrace you; for he's honourable,
And, doubling That, moft holy. Your means abroad,
You have me rich; and I will never fail

Beginning, nor fupply.

Imo. Thou'rt all the comfort

The Gods will diet me with.

Pr'ythee, away.

There's more to be confider'd; but we'll even

All that good time will give us.

This attempt

I'm foldier to, and will abide it with

A Prince's courage. Away, I pr'ythee.

Pif. Well, Madam, we must take a short farewel;
Left, being mifs'd, I be fufpected 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're fick at fea,
Or ftomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this
Will drive away distemper - -To fome fhade,
And fit you to your manhood; may the Gods
Direct you to the best!

Imo. Amen: I thank thee.

[Exeunt, feverally.

SCENE changes to the Palace of Cymbeline.

Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, Lucius, and Lords. HUS far, and fo farewel.

Cym!

Luc. Thanks, royal Sir.

My Emperor hath wrote; I must from hence;

Pifanio tells Imogen, if She would disguise herself in the Habit of a Youth, prefent herself before Lucius the Roman General, offer her Service, and tell him wherein She was happy, i. e. what an excellent Talent She had in Singing; this would make him happy, if he had an Ear for Mufick, and he would gladly receive her. For, afterwards, Belarius and Arviragus, talking of Imogen, giving this Description of her, whom they take for a Boy.

Bel. This Touth, howe'er diftreft, feems to have had

Good Ancestors.

Arv. How Angel-like he fings!

And