4

door open

As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn. With their own nobleness, (which could have If that thy gentry, Britain, go before

turn'd This lout, as he exceeds our lords, the odds A distaff to a lance,) gilded pale looks, Is, that we scarce are men, and you are gods. Part, shame, part, spirit renew'd; that some,

[Exit.

turn'd coward

But by example (0, a sin in war, The Battle continues; the Britons fly; CYMBE- Damn'd in the first beginners!; 'gan to look

LINE is taken: then enter to his rescue, BE- The way that they did, and to grin like lions LARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.

Upon the pikes o'the hunters. Then began Bel. Stand, stand! We have the advantage A stop i’the chaser, a retire; anon, of the ground;

A rout, confusion thick: Forthwith they fiy The lane is guarded: nothing routs us, but Chickens, the way which they stoop'd eagles; The villany of our fears.

slaves,

[cowards Gui. Arů. Stand, stand, and fight!

The strides they victors made: and now our

(Like fragments in hard voyages,) became Enter PostHUMUS, and seconds the Britons: The life o'the need; having found the backThey rescue CYMBELINE, and exeunt. Then,

(wound! enter Lucius, IACHIMO, and IMOGEN. Of the unguarded hearts, Heavens, how they Luc. Away, hoy, from the troops, and save Some, slain before ; some, dying; some, their

friends

(one, thyself: For friends kill friends, and the disorder's such O'erborne i’the former wave: ten, chaca by As war were hood-wink'd.

Are now each one the slaughter-man of twenty: lach. 'Tis their fresh supplies.

Those, that would die or ere resist, are grown Luc. It is a day turn'd strangely: or betimes. The mortal bugs* o'the field. Let's re-enforce, or fly.

Lord. This was strange chance: [Exeunt.

A narrow lane! an old man, and two boys! SCENE INI.- Another Part of the Field. Post. Nay, do not wonder at it: You are

made Enter PosTHUMUS and a British LORD.

Rather to wonder at the things you hear, Lord. Cam’st thou from where they made Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon't, the stand ?

And vent it for a mockery? Here is one: Post. I did :

Two boys, un old man tuice a boy, a lane, Though you, it seems, come from the fliers.

Preserv'd the Britons, was the Romans' bane. Lord, I did.

Lord. Nay, be not angry, Sir. Post. No blame be to you, Sir; for all was Post. 'Lack, to what end? lost,

Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his triend: But that the heavens fought: The king himselt For if he'll do, as he is made to do, Of his wings destitute, the army broken, I know, he'll quickly fly my friendship too. And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying You have put me into rhyme. Through a strait lane; the enemy full-hearted, Lord. Farewell, you are angry. (E.rit. Lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having Post. Still going?—This is a lord! O'noble work

misery! More plentiful than tools to do't, struck down To be i'the field, and ask, what news, of me! Some mortally, some slightly touch'd, some To-day, how many would have given their falling

[damnd*
honours

[do't, Merely through fear; that the strait pass was To have sav'd their carcasses? took heel tó With dead men, hurt behind, and cowards liv- | And yet died too? I, in mine own woe charm'd, To die with lengthen'd shame.

[ing Could not find death, where I did hear him Lord. Where was this lane?

groan; Post. Close by the battle, ditch'd, and walla Nor feel him where he struck: Being an ugly with turf;

monster,

(beds, Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier,— \ 'Tis strange, he hides him in fresh cups, solt An honest one, I warrant; who deserved Sweet words; or hath more ministers than we So long a breeding, as his white beard came to, That draw his knives i’the war.–Well, I will In doing this for his country ;-athwart the

find him: lane,

For being now a favourer to the Roman, He, with two striplings, (lads more like to run No more a Briton, I have re-sum'd again The country base,t than to commit such slaugh- The part I came in: Fight I will no more, ter;

But yield me to the veriest hind, that shall [is With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter Than those for preservation cas'd, or shame,) Here made by the Roman; great the answer be Made good the passage ; cry'd to those that Britons must take; for me my ransom's death; fled,

On either side I come to spend my breath, Our Brituin's harts die flying, not our men: Which neither here I'll keep, nor bear again, To darkness fleet, souls that ty backwards. But end it by some means for Imogen.

Stand;
Or we are Romans, and will gire you that (sare, ;

Enter tuo British CAPTAINS, and Soldiers.
Like beusts, which you shun beastly; and may
But to look back in froun: stand, stand.—These

1 Cap. Great Jupiter be prais'd! Lucius is three,

taken;

(angels. Three thousand confident, in act as many,

'Tis thought, the old man and his sons were (For three performers are the file, when all

2 Cap. There was a fourth man, in a silly The rest do nothing,) with this 'word, stand, That gave the affrontt with them. (habit, stand,

I Cap. So 'tis reported : Accommodated by the place, more charming,

But none of them can be found.-Stand! who

793

Post. A Roman,

Whose father then (as men report, Who had not now been drooping here, if se- Thou orphans' father art,). Had answer'd him.

[conds Thou should'st have been, and shielded him 2 Cap. Lay hands on him; a dog!

From this eartb-vexing smart. A leg of Rome shall not return to tell

Moth. Lucina lent not me her aid, What crows have peck'd them here: He brags But took me in my throes ; his service

That from me was Posthumus ript,
As if he were of note: bring him to the king. Came crying 'mongst his foes,

A thing of pity!
Enter CYMBELINE, uttended; BELARIUS, Gui- Sici. Great nature, like his ancestry,
DERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, Pisanio, and ROMAN

Moulded the stuff so fair,
CAPTIVES. The Captains present Posthu. That he deserv'd the praise o'the world,
Mus to CYMBELINE, who delivers him over to

As great Sicilius' heir. a Jailer: after which, ull go out.

1 Bro. When once he was mature for man,

In Britain where was he
SCENE IV.-A Prison.

That could stand up his parallel;
Enter POSTHUMUS, and two JAILERS.

Or fruitful object be

In eye of Imogen, that best 1 Jail. You shall not now be stolen, you Could deem his dignity? have looks upon you;

Moth. With marriage wherefore was he So, graze, as you find pasture.

To be exil'd and thrown [mock'd, 2 Jail. Ay, or a stomach. [Exeunt JAILERS. From Leonati' seat, and cast Post. Most welcome, bondage! for thou art From her his dearest one, a way,

Sweet Imogen?
I think, to liberty: Yet am I better

Sici. Why did you suffer Iachimo,
Than one that's sick o'the gout: since he had Slight thing of Italy,
Groan so in perpetuity, than be cur'd [rather To taini his nobler heart and brain
By the sure physician, death; who is the key With needless jealousy ;
To unbar these locks. My conscience! thou And to become the geck* and scorn
art fetter'd

O'the other's villany? More than my shanks, and wrists: You good 2 Bro. For this, from stiller seats we came, gods, give me

Our parents, and us twain,
The penitent instrument, to pick that bolt, That, striking in our country's cause,
Then, free for ever! Is't enough, I am sorry? Fell bravely, and were slain;
So children temporal fathers do appease; Our fealty, and Tenantius' right,
Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent? With honour to maintain.
I cannot do it better than in syves, *

1 Bro. Like hardiment Posthumus hath Desir'd, more than constrain'd: to satisfy,

To Cymbeline perform’d:
If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take Then Jupiter, thou king of gods,,
No stricter render of me, than my all.

Why hast thou thus adjourn'd
I know, you are more clement than vile men, The graces for his merits due;
Who of their broken debtors take a third,

Being all to dolours turn'd ?
A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again Sici. Thy crystal window ope; look out;
On their abatement; that's not my desire:

No longer exercise,
For Imogen's dear life, take mine; and though Upon a valiant race, thy harsh
"Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coin'd it: And potent injuries :
'Tween man and man, they weigh not every Moth. Since, Jupiter, our son is good,
stamp;

Take off his miseries. Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake: Sici. Peep through thy marble mansion; help! You rather mine, being yours : And so, great Or we poor ghosts will cry powers,

To the shining synod of the rest, If you will take this audit, take this life,

Against thy deity. And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen! 2 Bro. Help, Jupiter; or we appeal, I'll speak to thee in silence. [He sleeps. And from thy justice fly. Solemn music.t Enter, as an Apparition, Sici- | Jupiter descends in Thunder and Lightning, sitLIUS LEONATUS, Father to PostHUMUS, an

ting upon an Eagle: he throws a Thunder-bolt. old Man, attired like a Warrior; leading in his The Ghosts fall on their knces. hand an ancient Matron, his Wife, and Mother to PosTHUMUS, with music before them. Then, Jup. No more, you petty spirits of region after other music, follow the two young Leo

low,

(ghosts, NATI, Brothers to Posthumus, with Wounds, Offend our hearing; hush!-How dare you as they died in the Wars. They circle Posthus | Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt you know, Mus round, as he lies sleeping.

Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts ?

Poor shadows of Elysium, hence; and rest Sici. No inore, thou thunder master, show

Upon yot s never-withering banks of flowers: Thy spite on mortal flies:

Be not with mortal accidents opprest; With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,

No care of yours it is, you know, 'tis ours.
That thy adulteries

Whom best I love, I cross; to make my gift,
Rates and revenges.

The more delay'd, delighted. Be content;
Hath my poor boy done aught but well,

Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift: Whose face I never saw?

His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent. I died, whilst in the womb he stay'd

Our jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in Attending Nature's law.

Our temple was he married.--Rise, and He shall be lord of lady Imogen,

(fade!Fetters. + This Scene is supposed not to be Shakspeare's, but foisted in by the Players for mere ebow.

The fool

And happier much by his affliction made. what's past, is, and to come, the discharge:This tablet lay upon his breast; wherein Your neck, Sir, is pen, book, and counters

Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine; so the acquittance follows. And so, away: no further with your din

Post. I'ani merrier to die, than thou art is Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.- live. Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline. Juil. Indeed, Sir, he that sleeps feels not the

(Ascends. tooth-ache : But a man that were to sleep your Sici. He came in thunder; his 'celestial sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, i breath

think, he would change places with his officer: Was sulphurous to smell: the holy eagle for, look you, Sir, you know not which way Stoop'd, as to foot us : his ascension is you shall go. More sweet than our bless'd fields: his royal Post. Yes, indeed, do I, fellow. bird

Jail. Your death has eyes in's head then ; 1 Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak, have not seen him so pictured: you must either As when his god is pleas'd.

be directed by some that take upon them to All. Thanks, Jupiter!

know; or take upon yourself that, which i diu Sici. The marble pavement closes, he is en- sure you do not know, or jump* the after-ister'd

quiry on your own peril: and how you shall His radiant roof:-Away! and, to be blest, speed in your journey's end, I think you'il Let us with care perform his great behest. never return to tell one.

[Ghosts vanish. Post. I tell thee, fellow, there are none vani Post. (Waking.) Sleep, thou hast been a eyes to direct them the way I am going, but grandsire, and begot

such as wink, and will not use them. A father to me: and thou hast created

Juil. What an infinite mock is this, that a A mother and two brothers: But (0) scorn!) man should have the best use of eyes, to see Gone! they went hence so soon as they were the way of blindness! I am sure, hanging's born.

(pend the way of winking. And so I am awake,-Poor wretches that deOn greatness' favour, dream as I have done;

Enter a Mr.SSENGER. Wake, and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve: Mess. Knock off his manacles; bring your Many dream not to find, neither deserve, prisoner to the king. And yet are steep'd in favours; so am I, Post. Thou bringest good news;-I am called That have this golden chance, and know not to be made free. why.

Jail. I'll be hang'd then. What fairies haunt this ground ? A book? 0, Post. Thou shalt be then freer than a jailer; rare one!

no bolts for the dead. Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment

[Exeunt POSTHUMUS und MESSENGER. Nobler than that it covers : let thy effects Jail. Unless a man would marry a gallows, So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers, and beget young gibbets, I never saw one sa As good as promise.

prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are verier TReads.] When as a lion's whelp shall, to him-knaves desire to live, for all he be a Roman:

self unknown, without seeking find, und be em- and there be some of them too, that die againsi braced by a piece of tender air ; and when from their wills; so should I, if I were one. I woul. a stately cedur shall be lopped branches, which, we were all of one mind, and one mind good. being dead muny years, shall after rerire, belo, there were desolation of jailers, and galjointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then low ses! I speak against my present prost; shull Posthumus end his miseries, Britain bc but my wish hati a preferment in't. [Ercunt. fortunate, and fiourish in peace and plenty.

SCENE V.-CYMBELINE's Tent. "Tis still a dream; or else such stuff as madmen Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDErirs, Tongue, and brain not: either both, or nothing :

ARVIRAGUS, Pisanio, Lords, Officers, and Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such

Attendunts. As sense cannot untie.

Be what it is, The action of my life is like it, which

Cym. Stand by my side, you whom the gods I'll keep, if but for sympathy.

have made

Preservers of my throne. Woe my heart, Re-enter JAILERS.

That the poor soldier, that so richly fought, Jail. Come, Sir, are you ready for death ?

Whose rags sham'd gilded arms, whose naked Post. Over-roasted rather: ready long ago.

breast Jail. Hanging is the word, Sir; if jou be Stepp'd before target of proof, cannot be found: ready for that, you are well cooked.

He shall be happy that can find him, if Post. So, if I prove a good repast to the Our grace can make him so.

Bel. I never saw spectators, the dish pays the shot.

Jail. A heavy reckoning for you, Sir: But Such noble fury in so poor a thing; [nough the comfort is, you shall be called to no more such precious deeds in one that promisu payments, fear no more tavern bills; which But beggary and poor looks. are often the sadness of parting, as the pro

Cym. No tidings of him?

Pís. He hath been search'd among the dead curing of mirth: you come in faint for want of meat, depart reeling with too much drink; But no trace of him.

and living, sorry that you have paid too much, and sorry that you are paid too much; purse and

Cym. To my grief, I am brain bolii empty : the brain the heavier for The heir of his reward; which I will add being too light, the purse too light, being drawn To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain. of heaviness: O! of this contradiction you By whom, I grant, she lives; "Tis now the time

(To BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, und ARVIRAG", shall now be quit.-0 the charity of a penny | To ask of whence you are :-report it. cord! it sums up thousands in a trice: you hare on true debitor and creditor but it; of

* Hazard, + Forward * Target, shia

a

Bel. Sir,

Of many a bold one; whose kinsmen have In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen:

made suit,

(slaughter Further to boast, were neither true nor modest, That their good souls may be appeas’d with Unless I add, we are honest.

Of you their captives, which ourself have Cym. Bow your knees:

So, think of your estate.

[granted; Arise my knights o'the battle : I create you Luc. Consider, Sir, the chance of war; the Companions to our person, and will fit you

day. With dignities becoming your estates.

Was yours by accident; had it gone with us,

We should not, when the blood was cool, have Enter CORNELIUS and LADIES.

threaten'd

(gods There's business in these faces :-Why so sadly Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives

Our prisoners with the sword. But since the Greet you our victory? You look like Romans, May be call’d ransom, let it come: sufficeth, And not o'the court of Britain.

A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer: Cor. Hail, great king!

Augustus lives to think on't: And so much To suur your happiness, I must report

For my peculiar care. This one thing only The queen is dead.

I will entreat; My boy, a Briton born, Cym. Whom worse than a physician

Let him be ransom’d: never master had Would this report become? But I consider,

A page so kind, so duteous, diligent, By medicine life may be prolong'd, yet death

So tender over his occasions, true, Will seize the doctor too. -How ended she?

So feat, ** so nurse-like: let his virtue join Cor. With horror, madly dying, like her life ; | With my request, which, I'll make bold, your Which, being cruel to the world, concluded

highness Most cruel to herself. What she confess’d,

Cannot deny; he hath done no Briton harın, I will report, so please you: These her women Though he have serv'd a Roman: save him, Can trip me, if I err: who, with wet cheeks,

And spare no blood beside.

[Sir, Were present when she finish’d.

Cym. I have surely seen him: Cym. Pr'ythee, say.

His favourt is familiar to me.Cor. First, she confess'd she never lov'd Boy, thou hast look'd thyself into my grace, you; only

And art mine own.-I know not why, nor Affected greatness got by you, not you:

wherefore,

[live: Married your royalty, was wile to your place; | To say, live, boy: ne'er thank thy master; Abhorr'd your person.

And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt, Cym. She alone knew this:

Fitting my bounty, and thy state, I'll give it;
And, but she spoke it dying, I would not
Believe her lips in opening it.

Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner,
Proceed.

The noblest ta'en.
Cor. Your daughter, whom she bore in hand

Imo. I humbly thank your highness. to love

Luc. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad; With such integrity, she did confess

And yet, I know, thou wilt. Was as a scorpion to her sight; whose life,

Imo. No, no: alack, But that her tight prevented it, she had There's other work in hand; I see a thing Ta'en off by poison.

Bitter to me as death: your life, good mastery Cym. ( most delicate fiend !

Must sbutlle for itself. Who is't can read a woman !- Is there more?

Luc. The boy disdains me,

(joys, Cor. More, Sir, and worse. She did contess, He leaves me, scorns me: Briefly die their

she had For you a mortal mineral; which, being took, Why stands he so perplex'd ?

That place them on the truth of girls and

[boys.Should by the minute feed on life, and,

Cym. What would'st thou, boy? (more ling'ring,

(pos’d, I love thee more and more; think more and By inches waste you: In which time she pur- What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to

on? speak, O’ercome you with her show:yes, and in time, Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? thy friend? (When she had fitted you with her craft,) to

Imo. He is a Roman; no more kin to me, work

Than I to your highness; who, being born your Her son into the adoption of the crown.

(vaseal, But failing of ber end by his strange absence,

Am something nearer, Grew shameless desperate; open'd, in despite

Cym. Wherefore ey'st him so? Of heaven and men, her purposes ; repented

Imo. I'll tell you, Sir, in private, if you please

To give me hearing. The evils she hatch'd were not eflected; so,

Cym. Ay, with all my heart, Despairing, died.

And lend my best attention. What's thy name? Cym. Heard you all this, her women ?

Imo. Fidele, Sir. Lady. We did so, please your highness.

Cym. Thou art my good youth, my page; Cym. Mine eyes Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;

I'll be thy master: Walk with me; speak freely.

[CYMBELINE and IMOGEN converse apart. Mine ears, that heard her flattery; nor my

Bel. Is not this boy reviv'd from death? heart,

[vicious,

Art. One sand another That thought her like her seeming; it had been Not more resembles: That sweet rosy lad, To have mistrusted her: yet, O my daughter! Who died, and was Fidele :-What think you? That it was folly in me, thou may'st say,

Gui. The same dead tbing alive. And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all!

Bel. Peace, peace! see further; he eyes us Enter Lucius, IAChino, the SooTHSAYEP, and Creatures may be alike: were't he, I am sure

not; forbear; other Roman Prisoners, guarded; POSTHUMUS He would have spoke to us. behind, and IMOGEN,

Gui. But we saw him dea]. Thou com’st not, Caius, now for tribute; that

Bel. Be silent; let's see further. The Britons have raz'd out, though with the

Pis. It is my mistress :

(Arida loss

* Ready, dextroup

Countenanca

my lord ?

Since she is living, let the time run on, Made scruple of his praise; and wager'd with To good, or bad.

him (CYMBELINE and IMOGEN come forward. Pieces of gold, 'gainst this which then he wore Cym. Come, stand thou by our side; Upon his honour'd finger, to attain Make thy demand aloud.—Sir, (To lach.) step In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring you forth;

By hers and mine adultery: he, true knight, Give answer to this boy, and do it freely; No lesser of her honour confident Or, by our greatness, and the grace of it, Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring; Which is our honour, bitter torture shall And would so, had it been a carbuncle Winnow the truth from falsehood.-On, speak |Of Phoebus' wheel; and might so safely, had it to him.

Been all the worth of his car. Away to Smo. My boon is, that this gentleman may

Britain Or whom he had this ring.

(render Post I in this design: Well may you, Sir, Post. What's that to him ?

[ Aside. Remember me at court, where I was taught Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say, Of your chaste daughter the wide difference How came it yours?

'Twixt amorous and villanous. Being thus lach. Thou'st torture me to leave unspoken quench'd Which, to be spoke, would torture thee. [that of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain Cym. How! me?

'Gan in your duller Britain operate luch. I am glad to be constrain'd to utter Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent; that which

And, to be brief, my practice so prevaild, Torments me to conceal. By villany

That I returo'd with simular proof enough I got this ring; 'twas Leonatus' jewel : To make the noble Leonatus mad, Whom thou didst banish; and (which more By wounding his belief in her renown may grieve thee,

With tokens thus, and thus; averring notes As it doth me,) a nobler Sir ne'er liv'd Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her brace. Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more,

let,

(0, cunning, how I got it!) nay, some marks Cym. All that belongs to this.

Of secret on her person, that he could not lach. That paragon, thy daughter,-- But think her bond of chastily quite crack’d, For whom my heart drops blood, and my false I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon,spirits

Methinks, I see him now, Quail* to remember, Give me leave; I faint. Post. Ay, so thou dost, [Coming forward. Cym. My daughter! what of her? Renew Italian fiend !-Ah me, most credulous fool, thy strength:

(will, Egregious murderer, thief, any thing I had rather thou should’st live while nature That's due to all the villains past, in being, Than die ere I hear more: strive man, and speak. To come!-0, give me cord, or knife, or poison,

Juch. L'pon a time, (unhappy was the clock Some upright justicer! Thou, king, send out That struck the hour!) it was in Rome, (ac. For torturers ingenious: it is I curs'd

'would That all the abhorred things o'the earth amend, The mansion where!) 'twas at a feast, (O By being worse than they. I am Posthúmus, Our viands had been poison'd! or at least, That kili'd thy daughter:- villain like, I lie; Those which I heav'd to head!) the good That caus'd a lesser villain than myself, Posthumus,

A sacrilegious thief, to do't:-the temple
(What should I say? he was too good to be Of virtue was she ; vea, and she herself.*
Where ill men were; and was the best of all Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
Amongst the rar'st of good ones,) sitting sadly, The dogs o'the street to bay me: every villain
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy

Be call's Posthumus Leonatus; and
For beauty that made barren the swell's boast Be villany less than 'twas! 0 Imogen!
Of bim that best could speak: for feature, My queen, my life, my wife! O Imogen,
laming

(erva, Imogen, Imogen!
The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight' Min- Imo. Peace, my lord; hear, hear-
Postures beyond brief nature; for condition, Post. Shall's have a play of this? Thou
A shop of all the qualities that man

scornful page, Loves woman for; besides, that hook of wiving, There lie thy part. [Striking her: she falls. Fairness which strikes the eye :

Pis. O gentlemen, help, help [húmus! Cym. I stand on fire:

Mine, and your mistress :-0, my lord Post. Come to the matter.

You ne'er kill'd Imogen till now:-Help, lach. All too soon I shall,

Mine honour'd lady!

[help! Unless thou would'st grieve quickly.-- This Cym. Does the world go round? Posthumus,

Post. How come these staggers on me? (Most like a noble lord in love, and one

Pis. Wake, my mistress ? That had a royal lover,) took his hint;

Cym. If this be so, the gods do mean to And, not dispraising whom he prais’d, (therein

strike me He was as calm as virtue) he began

To death with mortal joy. His mistress' picture; which by his tongue be- Pis. How fares my mistress? ing made,

Imo. O, get thee from my sight; And then a mind put in't, either our brags Thou gav'st me poison : dangerous fellow, Were crack'd of kitchen trulls, or his descrip- Breathe not where princes are.

(hence! Prov'd us unspeaking sots.

[tion Cym. The tune of Imogen! Cym. Nay, nay, to the purpose.

Pis. Lady, lach. Your daughter's chastity-there it be. The gods throw stones of sulphur on me, if gins.

That box I gave yon was not thought by me He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams, A precious thing; I had it from the queen. And she alone were cold: Whereat, 1, wretch! Cym. New matter still?