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  • Title: Cymbeline (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editor: Jennifer Forsyth

    • ISBN: 1-55058-300-X

    Copyright Jennifer Forsyth. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Jennifer Forsyth
    Peer Reviewed

    Cymbeline (Folio 1, 1623)

    The Tragedie of Cymbeline. 387
    that made the Taylor, not be fit too? The rather (sauing
    reuerence of the Word) for 'tis saide a Womans fitnesse
    comes by fits: therein I must play the Workman, I dare
    2225speake it to my selfe, for it is not Vainglorie for a man,
    and his Glasse, to confer in his owne Chamber; I meane,
    the Lines of my body are as well drawne as his; no lesse
    young, more strong, not beneath him in Fortunes, be-
    yond him in the aduantage of the time, aboue him in
    2230Birth, alike conuersant in generall seruices, and more re-
    markeable in single oppositions; yet this imperseuerant
    Thing loues him in my despight. What Mortalitie is?
    Posthumus, thy head (which now is growing vppon thy
    shoulders) shall within this houre be off, thy Mistris in-
    2235forced, thy Garments cut to peeces before thy face: and
    all this done, spurne her home to her Father, who may
    (happily) be a little angry for my so rough vsage: but my
    Mother hauing power of his testinesse, shall turne all in-
    to my commendations. My Horse is tyed vp safe, out
    2240Sword, and to a sore purpose: Fortune put them into my
    hand: This is the very description of their meeting place
    and the Fellow dares not deceiue me. Exit.


    Scena Secunda.


    Enter Belarius, Guiderius, Aruiragus, and
    2245Imogen from the Caue.
    Bel. You are not well: Remaine heere in the Caue,
    Wee'l come to you after Hunting.
    Arui. Brother, stay heere:
    Are we not Brothers?
    2250Imo. So man and man should be,
    But Clay and Clay, differs in dignitie,
    Whose dust is both alike. I am very sicke,
    Gui. Go you to Hunting, Ile abide with him.
    Imo. So sicke I am not, yet I am not well:
    2255But not so Citizen a wanton, as
    To seeme to dye, ere sicke: So please you, leaue me,
    Sticke to your Iournall course: the breach of Custome,
    Is breach of all. I am ill, but your being by me
    Cannot amend me. Society, is no comfort
    2260To one not sociable: I am not very sicke,
    Since I can reason of it: pray you trust me heere,
    Ile rob none but my selfe, and let me dye
    Stealing so poorely.
    Gui. I loue thee: I haue spoke it,
    2265How much the quantity, the waight as much,
    As I do loue my Father.
    Bel. What? How? how?
    Arui. If it be sinne to say so (Sir) I yoake mee
    In my good Brothers fault: I know not why
    2270I loue this youth, and I haue heard you say,
    Loue's reason's, without reason. The Beere at doore,
    And a demand who is't shall dye, I'ld say
    My Father, not this youth.
    Bel. Oh noble straine!
    2275O worthinesse of Nature, breed of Greatnesse!
    "Cowards father Cowards, & Base things Syre Bace;
    "Nature hath Meale, and Bran; Contempt, and Grace.
    I'me not their Father, yet who this should bee,
    Doth myracle it selfe, lou'd before mee.
    2280'Tis the ninth houre o'th' Morne.
    Arui. Brother, farewell.
    Imo. I wish ye sport.
    Arui. You health.---- So please you Sir.
    Imo. These are kinde Creatures.
    2285Gods, what lyes I haue heard:
    Our Courtiers say, all's sauage, but at Court;
    Experience, oh thou disproou'st Report.
    Th' emperious Seas breeds Monsters; for the Dish,
    Poore Tributary Riuers, as sweet Fish:
    2290I am sicke still, heart-sicke; Pisanio,
    Ile now taste of thy Drugge.
    Gui. I could not stirre him:
    He said he was gentle, but vnfortunate;
    Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest.
    2295Arui. Thus did he answer me: yet said heereafter,
    I might know more.
    Bel. To'th' Field, to'th' Field:
    Wee'l leaue you for this time, go in, and rest.
    Arui. Wee'l not be long away.
    2300Bel. Pray be not sicke,
    For you must be our Huswife.
    Imo. Well, or ill,
    I am bound to you. Exit.
    Bel. And shal't be euer.
    2305This youth, how ere distrest, appeares he hath had
    Good Ancestors.
    Arui. How Angell-like he sings?
    Gui. But his neate Cookerie?
    Arui. He cut our Rootes in Charracters,
    2310And sawc'st our Brothes, as Iuno had bin sicke,
    And he her Dieter.
    Arui. Nobly he yoakes
    A smiling, with a sigh; as if the sighe
    Was that it was, for not being such a Smile:
    2315The Smile, mocking the Sigh, that it would flye
    From so diuine a Temple, to commix
    With windes, that Saylors raile at.
    Gui. I do note,
    That greefe and patience rooted in them both,
    2320Mingle their spurres together.
    Arui. Grow patient,
    And let the stinking-Elder (Greefe) vntwine
    His perishing roote, with the encreasing Vine.
    Bel. It is great morning. Come away: Who's there?
    2325Enter Cloten.
    Clo. I cannot finde those Runnagates, that Villaine
    Hath mock'd me. I am faint.
    Bel. Those Runnagates?
    Meanes he not vs? I partly know him, 'tis
    2330Cloten, the Sonne o'th' Queene. I feare some Ambush:
    I saw him not these many yeares, and yet
    I know 'tis he: We are held as Out-Lawes: Hence.
    Gui. He is but one: you, and my Brother search
    What Companies are neere: pray you away,
    2335Let me alone with him.
    Clot. Soft, what are you
    That flye me thus? Some villaine-Mountainers?
    I haue heard of such. What Slaue art thou?
    Gui. A thing
    2340More slauish did I ne're, then answering
    A Slaue without a knocke.
    Clot. Thou art a Robber,
    A Law-breaker, a Villaine: yeeld thee Theefe.
    Gui. To who? to thee? What art thou? Haue not I
    2345An arme as bigge as thine? A heart, as bigge:
    Thy words I grant are bigger: for I weare not
    My Dagger in my mouth. Say what thou art:
    Why
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