1596The freezing houres away? We haue seene nothing:

1597We are beastly; subtle as the Fox for prey,

1598Like warlike as the Wolfe, for what we eate:

1599Our Valour is to chace what flyes: Our Cage

1600We make a Quire, as doth the prison'd Bird,

1601And sing our Bondage freely.

1602Bel. How you speake.

1603Did you but know the Citties Vsuries,

1604And felt them knowingly: the Art o'th' Court,

1605As hard to leaue, as keepe: whose top to climbe

1606Is certaine falling: or so slipp'ry, that

1607The feare's as bad as falling. The toyle o'th' Warre,

1608A paine that onely seemes to seeke out danger

1609I'th' name of Fame, and Honor, which dyes i'th' search,

1610And hath as oft a sland'rous Epitaph,

1611As Record of faire Act. Nay, many times

1612Doth ill deserue, by doing well: what's worse

1613Must curt'sie at the Censure. Oh Boyes, this Storie

1614The World may reade in me: My bodie's mark'd

1615With Roman Swords; and my report, was once

1616First, with the best of Note. Cymbeline lou'd me,

1617And when a Souldier was the Theame, my name

1618Was not farre off: then was I as a Tree

1619Whose boughes did bend with fruit. But in one night,

1620A Storme, or Robbery (call it what you will)

1621Shooke downe my mellow hangings: nay my Leaues,

1622And left me bare to weather.

1623Gui. Vncertaine fauour.

1624Bel. My fault being nothing (as I haue told you oft)

1625But that two Villaines, whose false Oathes preuayl'd

1626Before my perfect Honor, swore to Cymbeline,

1627I was Confederate with the Romanes: so

1628Followed my Banishment, and this twenty yeeres,

1629This Rocke, and these Demesnes, haue bene my World,

1630Where I haue liu'd at honest freedome, payed

1631More pious debts to Heauen, then in all

1632The fore-end of my time. But, vp to'th' Mountaines,

1633This is not Hunters Language; he that strikes

1634The Venison first, shall be the Lord o'th' Feast,

1635To him the other two shall minister,

1636And we will feare no poyson, which attends

1637In place of greater State:

1638Ile meete you in the Valleyes. Exeunt.

1639How hard it is to hide the sparkes of Nature?

1640These Boyes know little they are Sonnes to'th' King,

1641Nor Cymbeline dreames that they are aliue.

1642They thinke they are mine,

1643And though train'd vp thus meanely

1644I'th' Caue, whereon the Bowe their thoughts do hit,

1645The Roofes of Palaces, and Nature prompts them

1646In simple and lowe things, to Prince it, much

1647Beyond the tricke of others. This Paladour,

1648The heyre of Cymbeline and Britaine, who

1649The King his Father call'd Guiderius. Ioue,

1650When on my three-foot stoole I sit, and tell

1651The warlike feats I haue done, his spirits flye out

1652Into my Story: say thus mine Enemy fell,

1653And thus I set my foote on's necke, euen then

1654The Princely blood flowes in his Cheeke, he sweats,

1655Straines his yong Nerues, and puts himselfe in posture

1656That acts my words. The yonger Brother Cadwall,

1657Once Aruiragus, in as like a figure

1658Strikes life into my speech, and shewes much more

1659His owne conceyuing. Hearke, the Game is rows'd,

1660Oh Cymbeline, Heauen and my Conscience knowes

1661Thou didd'st vniustly banish me: whereon

1662At three, and two yeeres old, I stole these Babes,

1663Thinking to barre thee of Succession, as

1664Thou refts me of my Lands. Euriphile,

1665Thou was't their Nurse, they took thee for their mother,

1666And euery day do honor to her graue:

1667My selfe Belarius, that am Mergan call'd

1668They take for Naturall Father. The Game is vp. Exit.

1671Imo. Thou told'st me when we came frõ horse, y^e place

1672Was neere at hand: Ne're long'd my Mother so

1673To see me first, as I haue now. Pisanio, Man:

1674Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind

1675That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that sigh

1676From th' inward of thee? One, but painted thus

1677Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd

1678Beyond selfe-explication. Put thy selfe

1679Into a hauiour of lesse feare, ere wildnesse

1680Vanquish my stayder Senses. What's the matter?

1681Why tender'st thou that Paper to me, with

1682A looke vntender? If't be Summer Newes

1683Smile too't before: if Winterly, thou need'st

1684But keepe that count'nance stil. My Husbands hand?

1685That Drug-damn'd Italy, hath out-craftied him,

1686And hee's at some hard point. Speake man, thy Tongue

1687May take off some extreamitie, which to reade

1688Would be euen mortall to me.

1689Pis. Please you reade,

1690And you shall finde me (wretched man) a thing

1691The most disdain'd of Fortune.

1703Pis. What shall I need to draw my Sword, the Paper

1704Hath cut her throat alreadie? No, 'tis Slander,

1705Whose edge is sharper then the Sword, whose tongue

1706Out-venomes all the Wormes of Nyle, whose breath

1707Rides on the posting windes, and doth belye

1708All corners of the World. Kings, Queenes, and States,

1709Maides, Matrons, nay the Secrets of the Graue

1710This viperous slander enters. What cheere, Madam?

1711Imo. False to his Bed? What is it to be false?

1712To lye in watch there, and to thinke on him?

1713To weepe 'twixt clock and clock? If sleep charge Nature,

1714To breake it with a fearfull dreame of him,

1715And cry my selfe awake? That's false to's bed? Is it?

1716Pisa. Alas good Lady.

1717Imo. I false? Thy Conscience witnesse: Iachimo,

1718Thou didd'st accuse him of Incontinencie,

1719Thou then look'dst like a Villaine: now, me thinkes