Cymbeline (Folio 1, 1623)
Peer Reviewed
The Tragedie of Cymbeline.
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¶Is falne into thy eare? What false Italian,
¶(As poysonous tongu'd, as handed) hath preuail'd
¶On thy too ready hearing? Disloyall? No.
1475She's punish'd for her Truth; and vndergoes
¶Thy mind to her, is now as lowe, as were
¶Thy Fortunes. How? That I should murther her,
1480Vpon the Loue, and Truth, and Vowes; which I
¶Haue made to thy command? I her? Her blood?
¶Let me be counted seruiceable. How looke I,
1485So much as this Fact comes to? Doo't: The Letter.
¶That I haue sent her, by her owne command,
¶Shall giue thee opportunitie. Oh damn'd paper,
¶Art thou a Fœdarie for this Act; and look'st
1490So Virgin-like without? Loe here she comes.
¶
Enter Imogen.
¶I am ignorant in what I am commanded.
¶Pis. Madam, heere is a Letter from my Lord.
1495Imo. Who, thy Lord? That is my Lord Leonatus?
¶Oh, learn'd indeed were that Astronomer
¶That knew the Starres, as I his Characters,
¶Heel'd lay the Future open. You good Gods,
¶Let what is heere contain'd, rellish of Loue,
1500Of my Lords health, of his content: yet not
¶That we two are asunder, let that grieue him;
¶Some griefes are medcinable, that is one of them,
¶For it doth physicke Loue, of his content,
¶All but in that. Good Wax, thy leaue: blest be
¶And men in dangerous Bondes pray not alike,
¶You claspe young Cupids Tables: good Newes Gods.
¶
IVstice and your Fathers wrath (should he take me in his
1510Dominion) could not be so cruell to me, as you: (oh the dee-¶rest of Creatures) would euen renew me with your eyes. Take¶notice that I am in Cambria at Milford-Hauen: what your
¶He is at Milford-Hauen: Read, and tell me
¶How farre 'tis thither. If one of meane affaires
¶May plod it in a weeke, why may not I
1520Glide thither in a day? Then true Pisanio,
¶(Oh let me bate) but not like me: yet long'st
¶But in a fainter kinde. Oh not like me:
¶Tell me how Wales was made so happy, as
1530How we may steale from hence: and for the gap
¶That we shall make in Time, from our hence-going,
¶Weele talke of that heereafter. Prythee speake,
1535How many store of Miles may we well rid
¶Twixt houre, and houre?
¶Madam's enough for you: and too much too.
¶Imo. Why, one that rode to's Execution Man,
¶Where Horses haue bin nimbler then the Sands
¶That run i'th'_Clocks behalfe. But this is Foolrie,
¶She'le home to her Father; and prouide me presently
1545A Riding Suit: No costlier then would fit
¶A Franklins Huswife.
¶Nor what ensues but haue a Fog in them
1550That I cannot looke through. Away, I prythee,
¶Do as I bid thee: There's no more to say:
Exeunt.
¶
Scena Tertia.
¶
Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Aruiragus.
¶Whose Roofe's as lowe as ours: Sleepe Boyes, this gate
¶Instructs you how t'adore the Heauens; and bowes you
¶To a mornings holy office. The Gates of Monarches
¶Are Arch'd so high, that Giants may iet through
1560And keepe their impious Turbonds on, without
¶Good morrow to the Sun. Haile thou faire Heauen,
¶As prouder liuers do.
¶Guid. Haile Heauen.
1565Aruir. Haile Heauen.
¶When you aboue perceiue me like a Crow,
1570And you may then reuolue what Tales, I haue told you,
¶Of Courts, of Princes; of the Tricks in Warre.
¶This Seruice, is not Seruice; so being done,
¶But being so allowed. To apprehend thus,
¶Drawes vs a profit from all things we see:
1575And often to our comfort, shall we finde
¶Then is the full-wing'd Eagle. Oh this life,
¶Is Nobler, then attending for a checke:
¶Richer, then doing nothing for a Babe:
1580Prouder, then rustling in vnpayd-for Silke:
¶Such gaine the Cap of him, that makes him fine,
¶Yet keepes his Booke vncros'd: no life to ours.
1585What Ayre's from home. Hap'ly this life is best,
¶With your stiffe Age; but vnto vs, it is
¶A Cell of Ignorance: trauailing a bed,
1590A Prison, or a Debtor, that not dares
¶To stride a limit.
¶When we are old as you? When we shall heare
¶The Raine and winde beate darke December? How
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