I kissed the jack upon an up-cast, to be hit away! I had a hundred pound on't: And then a whoreson jackanapes must take me up for swearing; as if I borrowed mine oaths of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure.

1 Lord. What got he by that? You have broke his pate with your bowl.

2 Lord. If his wit had been like him that broke it, it would have run all out.

[Aside. Clo. When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths: Ha? 2 Lord. No, my lord; nor [Aside.] crop the ears

of them.

Clo. Whoreson dog!-I give him satisfaction? 'Would, he had been one of my rank!

2 Lord. To have smelt like a fool. [Aside. Clo. I am not more vexed at any thing in the earth,-A pox on't! I had rather not be so noble as I am; they dare not fight with me, because of the queen my mother: every jack-slave hath his 'belly full of fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock that nobody can match.

2 Lord. You are a cock and capon too; and you crow, cock, with your comb on.

Clo. Sayest thou?

[Aside.

1 Lord. It is not fit, your lordship should undertake every companion2 that you give offence to. Clo. No, I know that: but it is fit, I should commit offence to my inferiors.

2 Lord. Ay, it is fit for your lordship only. Clo. Why, so I say.

1 Lord. Did you hear of a stranger, that's come to court to-night?

Clo. A stranger! and I not know on't!

it not.

2 Lord. He's a strange fellow himself, and knows [Aside. 1 Lord. There's an Italian come; and, 'tis thought, one of Leonatus' friends.

Clo. Leonatus? a banished rascal; and he's another, whatsoever he be. Who told you of this stranger?

1 Lord. One of your lordship's pages. Clo. Is it fit I went to look upon him? Is there no derogation in't!

1 Lord. You cannot derogate, my lord. Clo. Not easily, I think.

2 Lord. You are a fool granted; therefore your issues being foolish, do not derogate. [Aside. Clo. Come, I'll go see this Italian: What I have lost to-day at bowls, I'll win to-night of him. Come, go.

that

2 Lord. I'll attend your lordship. [Exeunt Cloten and first Lord. That such a crafty devil as is his mother Should yield the world this ass! a woman, Bears all down with her brain; and this her son Cannot take two from twenty for his heart, And leave eighteen. Alas, poor princess, Thou divine Imogen, what thou endur'st! Betwixt a father by thy step-dame govern'd; A mother hourly coining plots; a wooer, More hateful than the foul expulsion is Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act

Of the divorce he'd make! The heavens hold firm

The walls of thy dear honour; keep unshak'd That temple, thy fair mind; that thou may'st stand,

To enjoy thy banish'd lord, and this great land!

[Exit.

(1) He is describing his fate at bowls; the jack is the small bowl at which the others are aimed. (2) Fellow. (3) i. c. Degrade yourself.

sense

Repairs itself by rest: Our Tarquin thus
Did softly press the rushes,4 ere he waken'd
The chastity he wounded.--Cytherea,
How bravely thou becom'st thy bed! fresh lily!
And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch!
But kiss; one kiss!—Rubies unparagon'd,
How dearly they do't!--'Tis her breathing that
Perfumes the chamber thus: The flame o'the taper
Bows toward her; and would under-peep her lids,
To see the enclosed lights, now canopied
Under these windows: White and azure, lac'd
With blue of heaven's own tinct.5-But my design?
To note the chamber :--I will write all down:-
Such, and such, pictures:-There the window :—
Such

The adornment of her bed;-The arras,6 figures, Why, such, and such:-And the contents o'the story,

Ah, but some natural notes about her body,

Above ten thousand meaner moveables
Would testify, to enrich mine inventory:

sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her!
And be her sense but as a monument,
Thus in a chapel lying!-Come off, come off;-
[Taking off her bracelet.
As slippery, as the Gordian knot was hard!
'Tis mine; and this will witness outwardly,
As strongly as the conscience does within,
To the madding of her lord. On her left breast
A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops
I'the bottom of a cowslip: Here's a voucher,
Stronger than ever law could make this secret
Will force him think I have pick'd the lock, and

ta'en

The treasure of her honour. No more.-To what end?

Why should I write this down, that's riveted,
Screw'd to my memory? She hath been reading late
The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turn'd down,
Where Philomel gave up ;-I have enough:
To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it.
Swift, swift, you dragons of the night!—that dawn-
ing

May bare the raven's eye: I lodge in fear;
Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here.
[Clock strikes.

One, two, three,-Time, time!

[Goes into the trunk. The scene closes.

(4) It was anciently the custom to strew chambers with rushes.

(5) i. e. The white skin laced with blue veins. (6) Tapestry.

SCENE III-An ante-chamber adjoining Imogen's apartment. Enter Cloten and Lords.

1 Lord. Your lordship is the most patient man in loss, the most coldest that ever turn'd up ace. Clo. It would make any man cold to lose. 1 Lord. But not every man patient, after the noble temper of your lordship; You are most hot, and furious, when you win.

Clo Winning would put any man into courage: If I could get this foolish Imogen, I should have gold enough: It's almost morning, is't not?

1 Lord. Day, my lord.

Clo. I would this music would come: I am advised to give her music o'mornings; they say, it will penetrate.

Enter Musicians.

Come on ; tune : If you can penetrate her with your fingering, so; we'll try with tongue too: if none will do, let her remain; but I'll never give o'er. First, a very excellent good-conceited thing; after, a wonderful sweet air, with admirable rich words to it, and then let her consider.

SONG.

Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phabus 'gins arise,

His steeds to water at those springs

On chalic'd flowers that lies;

And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes;

With every thing that pretty bin :
My lady sweet, arise;
Arise, arise.

So, get you gone: If this penetrate, I will consider
your music the better 2 if it do not, it is a vice in
her
ears, which horse-hairs, and cats-guts, nor the
voice of unpaved eunuch to boot, can never amend.
[Exeunt Musicians.

Enter Cymbeline and Queen.

2 Lord. Here comes the king. Clo. I am glad, I was up so late; for that's the reason I was up so early: He cannot choose but take this service I have done, fatherly.-Good morrow to your majesty, and to my gracious mother.

Cym. Attend you here the door of our stern daughter?

Will she not forth?

Clo. I have assailed her with music, but she vouchsafes no notice.

Cym. The exile of her minion is too new; She hath not yet forgot him: 'some more time Must wear the print of his remembrance out, And then she's yours. Queen. You are most bound to the king; Who lets go by no vantages, that may Prefer you to his daughter: Frame yourself To orderly solicits; and be friended With aptness of the season :3 make denials Increase your services : : so seem, as if You were inspir'd to do those duties which You tender to her; that you in all obey her, Save when command to your dismission tends, And therein you are senseless. Clo.

tress,

[Exeunt Cym. Queen, Lords, and Mess. Clo. If she be up, I'll speak with her; if not, Let her lie still, and dream.-By your leave ho!I know her women are about her; What [Knocks. If I do line one of their hands? 'Tis gold Which buys admittance; oft it doth; yea, and makes

Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up
Their deer to the stand of the stealer; and 'tis gold
Which makes the true man kill'd, and saves the
thief;

Nay, sometime, hangs both thief and true man:
What

Can it not do, and undo? I will make
One of her women lawyer to me; for
I yet not understand the case myself.
By your leave

Enter a Lady.

[Knocks.

Imo. Fools are not mad folks.
Clo.

Do you call me fool?
Imo. As I am mad, I do :
If you'll be patient, I'll no more be mad;

(3) With solicitations not only proper, but welltimed.

3 D

That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir,
You put me to forget a lady's manners,
By being so verbal and learn now, for all,
That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce,
By the very truth of it, I care not for you;
And am so near the lack of charity

(To accuse myself,) I hate you: which I had rather
You felt, than make't my boast.
Clo.
You sin against
Obedience, which you owe your father.
For
The contract you pretend with that base wretch,
(One, bred of alms, and foster'd with cold dishes,
With scraps o'the court,) it is no contract, none :
And though it be allow'd in meaner parties,
(Yet who, than he, more mean?) to knit their souls
(On whom there is no more dependency
But brats and beggary) in self-figur'd knot ;2
Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement by
The consequence o'the crown; and must not soil
The precious note of it with a base slave,
A hilding for a livery, a squire's cloth,
A pantler, not so eminent.

Imo.
Profane fellow !
Wert thou the son of Jupiter, and no more,
But what thou art, besides, thou wert too base
To be his groom: thou wert dignified enough,
Even to the point of envy, if 'twere made
Comparative for your virtues, to be styl'd
The under-hangman of his kingdom; and hated
For being preferr'd so well.

Clo.

The south fog rot him! Imo. He never can meet more mischance, than

come

To be but nam'd of thee. His meanest garment,
That ever hath but clipp'd his body, is dearer,
In my respect, than all the hairs above thee,
Were they all made such men.-How now, Pisanio?
Enter Pisanio.

Clo. His garment? Now, the devil-
Imo. To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently :-
Clo. His garment?

Imo.
I am sprited4 with a fool;
Frighted, and anger'd worse :-Go, bid my woman
Search for a jewel, that too casually

Hath left mine arm; it was thy master's: 'shrew me,
If I would lose it for a revenue
Of any king's in Europe. I do think,
I saw't this morning: confident I am,
Last night 'twas on mine arm; I kiss'd it:
I hope, it be not gone, to tell my lord
That I kiss aught but he.

Pis.

"Twill not be lost. Imo. I hope so go, and search. [Exit Pis. Clo. You have abus'd me :

His meanest garment?

Imo.

Ay; I said so, sir.

If you will make't an action, call witness to't. Clo. I will inform your father.

Imo. Your mother too: She's my good lady; and will conceive, I hope, But the worst of me. So I leave you, sir,

I barely gratify your love; they failing,
I must die much your debtor.
Phi. Your very goodness, and your company,
O'erpays all I can do. By this, your king
Hath heard of great Augustus: Caius Lucius
Will do his commission throughly: And, I think,
He'll grant the tribute, send the arrearages,
Or look upon our Romans, whose remembrance
Is yet fresh in their grief.
Post.
I do believe
(Statist5 though I am none, nor like to be,)
That this will prove a war; and you shall hear
The legions, now in Gallia, sooner landed.
In our not-fearing Britain, than have tidings
Of any penny tribute paid. Our countrymen
Are men more order'd, than when Julius Cæsar
Smil'd at their lack of skill, but found their courage
Worthy his frowning at: Their discipline
(Now mingled with their courages) will make known
To their approvers,6 they are people, such
That mend upon the world.

If I have lost it, I should have lost the worth of it in gold. I'll make a journey twice as far, to enjoy A second night of such sweet shortness, which Was mine in Britain; for the ring is won. Post. The stone's too hard to come by. lach. Your lady being so easy.

Post.

Not a whit,

To the worst of discontent.
Clo.
His meanest garment?-Well.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.-Rome. An apartment in Philario's

house. Enter Posthumus and Philario. Post. Fear it not, sir: I would, I were so sure

(1) So verbose, so full of talk.
(2) In knots of their own tying.
(3) A low fellow, only fit to wear a livery.

If

Iach.

Good sir, we must, you keep covenant: Had I not brought The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant We were to question further: but I now Profess myself the winner of her honour, Together with your ring: and not the wronger Of her, or you, having proceeded but

(4) Haunted. (5) Statesman, (6) To those who try them.

By both Post.

your wills.

If you can make't apparent That you have tasted her in bed, my hand, And ring, is yours: If not, the foul opinion You had of her pure honour, gains, or loses, Your sword, or mine; or masterless leaves both To who shall find them.

Iach. Sir, my circumstances, Being so near the truth, as I will make them, Must first induce you to believe: whose strength I will confirm with oath; which, I doubt not, You'll give me leave to spare, when you shall find You need it not. Post. Proceed.

Iach.

First, her bed-chamber (Where, I confess, I slept not; but, profess, Had that was well worth watching,) it was hang'd With tapestry of silk and silver; the story, Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman, And Cydnus swell'd above the banks, or for The press of boats, or pride: A piece of work So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive In workmanship, and value; which, I wonder'd, Could be so rarely and exactly wrought, Since the true life on't was

Post.

This is true; And this you might have heard of here, by me, Or by some other.

Iach.

More particulars

Must justify my knowledge.

Post.

Or do your honour injury. Iach.

So they must,

Of one

The chimney

The roof o'the chamber With golden cherubins is fretted: Her andirons (I had forgot them,) were two winking Cupids Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely Depending on their brands.1

Post.

persuaded well of

She hath been colted by him.

Iach.

Sir, be patient:

Never talk on't;

If you seek

For further satisfying, under her breast
(Worthy the pressing,) lies a mole, right proud
Of that most delicate lodging: by my life,

I kiss'd it; and it gave me present hunger
To feed again, though full. You do remember
This stain upon her?

Post.
Ay, and it doth confirm
Another stain, as big as hell can hold,
Were there no more but it.
Iach.
hear more?
Post. Spare your arithmetic: never count the

Iach.

Then if you can,
[Pulling out the bracelet.
Be pale; I beg but leave to air this jewel: See!-
And now 'tis up again: It must be married
To that your diamond; I'll keep them.
Post.

Once more let me behold it: Is it that
Which Ideft with her?

Jove!

Iach: Sir (I thank her,) that: She stripp'd it from her arm; I see her yet; Her pretty action did outsell her gift, And yet enrich'd it too: She it gave me, and said, She priz'd it once. Post.

May be, she pluck'd it off,

To send it me. lach. She writes so to you? doth she? Post. O, no, no, no; 'tis true.

Here, take this [Gives the ring.

too;

It is a basilisk unto mine eye,

Kills me to look on't :-Let there be no honour,

(1) Torches in the hands of Cupids.

Will

you

turns; and a million!

I'll be sworn,——

Iach. Post. No swearing. If you will swear you have not done't, you lie ; And I will kill thee, if thou dost deny Thou hast made me cuckold.

Iach.

I will deny nothing.

Post. O, that I had her here, to tear her limbmeal!

I will go there, and do't; i'the court; before Her father:-I'll do something—

Phi.

[Exit. Quite beside The government of patience!-You have won: Let's follow him, and pervert the present wrath He hath against himself. Iach.

With all my heart. [Exeunt.

SCENE V-The same. Another room in the same. Enter Posthumus.

Post. Is there no way for men to be, but women Must be half workers? We are bastards all; And that most venerable man, which I Did call my father, was I know not where When I was stamp'd; some coiner with his tools Made me a counterfeit: Yet my mother seem'd

(2) The badge; the token.