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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 Tragedy of Cymbeline. 371
    220Qu. Pray walke a-while.
    Imo. About some halfe houre hence,
    Pray you speake with me;
    You shall (at least) go see my Lord aboord.
    For this time leaue me. Exeunt.


    225Scena Tertia.


    Enter Clotten, and two Lords.
    1. Sir, I would aduise you to shift a Shirt; the Vio-
    lence of Action hath made you reek as a Sacrifice: where
    ayre comes out, ayre comes in: There's none abroad so
    230wholesome as that you vent.
    Clot. If my Shirt were bloody, then to shift it.
    Haue I hurt him?
    2 No faith: not so much as his patience.
    1 Hurt him? His bodie's a passable Carkasse if he bee
    235not hurt. It is a through-fare for Steele if it be not hurt.
    2 His Steele was in debt, it went o'th' Backe-side the
    Towne.
    Clot. The Villaine would not stand me.
    2 No, but he fled forward still, toward your face.
    2401 Stand you? you haue Land enough of your owne:
    But he added to your hauing, gaue you some ground.
    2 As many Inches, as you haue Oceans (Puppies.)
    Clot. I would they had not come betweene vs.
    2 So would I, till you had measur'd how long a Foole
    245you were vpon the ground.
    Clot. And that shee should loue this Fellow, and re-
    fuse mee.
    2 If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damn'd.
    1 Sir, as I told you alwayes: her Beauty & her Braine
    250go not together. Shee's a good signe, but I haue seene
    small reflection of her wit.
    2 She shines not vpon Fooles, least the reflection
    Should hurt her.
    Clot. Come, Ile to my Chamber: would there had
    255beene some hurt done.
    2 I wish not so, vnlesse it had bin the fall of an Asse,
    which is no great hurt.
    Clot. You'l go with vs?
    1 Ile attend your Lordship.
    260Clot. Nay come, let's go together.
    2 Well my Lord. Exeunt.


    Scena Quarta.


    Enter Imogen, and Pisanio.
    Imo. I would thou grew'st vnto the shores o'th' Hauen,
    265And questioned'st euery Saile: if he should write,
    And I not haue it, 'twere a Paper lost
    As offer'd mercy is: What was the last
    That he spake to thee?
    Pisa. It was his Queene, his Queene.
    270Imo. Then wau'd his Handkerchiefe?
    Pisa. And kist it, Madam.
    Imo. Senselesse Linnen, happier therein then I:
    And that was all?
    Pisa. No Madam: for so long
    275As he could make me with his eye, or eare,
    Distinguish him from others, he did keepe
    The Decke, with Gloue, or Hat, or Handkerchife,
    Still wauing, as the fits and stirres of's mind
    Could best expresse how slow his Soule sayl'd on,
    280How swift his Ship.
    Imo. Thou should'st haue made him
    As little as a Crow, or lesse, ere left
    To after-eye him.
    Pisa. Madam, so I did.
    285Imo. I would haue broke mine eye-strings;
    Crack'd them, but to looke vpon him, till the diminution
    Of space, had pointed him sharpe as my Needle:
    Nay, followed him, till he had melted from
    The smalnesse of a Gnat, to ayre: and then
    290Haue turn'd mine eye, and wept. But good Pisanio,
    When shall we heare from him.
    Pisa. Be assur'd Madam,
    With his next vantage.
    Imo. I did not take my leaue of him, but had
    295Most pretty things to say: Ere I could tell him
    How I would thinke on him at certaine houres,
    Such thoughts, and such: Or I could make him sweare,
    The Shees of Italy should not betray
    Mine Interest, and his Honour: or haue charg'd him
    300At the sixt houre of Morne, at Noone, at Midnight,
    T' encounter me with Orisons, for then
    I am in Heauen for him: Or ere I could,
    Giue him that parting kisse, which I had set
    Betwixt two charming words, comes in my Father,
    305And like the Tyrannous breathing of the North,
    Shakes all our buddes from growing.
    Enter a Lady.
    La. The Queene (Madam)
    Desires your Highnesse Company.
    310Imo. Those things I bid you do, get them dispatch'd,
    I will attend the Queene.
    Pisa. Madam, I shall. Exeunt.


    Scena Quinta.


    Enter Philario, Iachimo: a Frenchman, a Dutch-
    315man, and a Spaniard.
    Iach. Beleeue it Sir, I haue seene him in Britaine; hee
    was then of a Cressent note, expected to proue so woor-
    thy, as since he hath beene allowed the name of. But I
    could then haue look'd on him, without the help of Ad-
    320miration, though the Catalogue of his endowments had
    bin tabled by his side, and I to peruse him by Items.
    Phil. You speake of him when he was lesse furnish'd,
    then now hee is, with that which makes him both with-
    out, and within.
    325French. I haue seene him in France: wee had very ma-
    ny there, could behold the Sunne, with as firme eyes as
    hee.
    Iach. This matter of marrying his Kings Daughter,
    wherein he must be weighed rather by her valew, then
    330his owne, words him (I doubt not) a great deale from the
    matter.
    French. And then his banishment.
    Iach. I, and the approbation of those that weepe this
    lamentable diuorce vnder her colours, are wonderfully
    to
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