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Two Gaolers.

Appear, Act V. sc. 4.

QUEEN, wife to Cymbeline.

Appears, Act I. sc. 2; sc. 6. Act II. sc. 3. Act III. sc. 1; sc. 5.

IMOGEN, daughter to Cymbeline, by a former Queen.

Appears, Act I. sc. 2; sc. 4; sc. 7. Act II. sc. 2; sc. 3.
Act III. sc. 2; sc. 4; sc. 6. Act IV. sc. 2.

HELEN, woman to Imogen.

Appears, Act II. sc. 2.

Act V. sc. 5.

Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, Apparitions, a Soothsayer, Musicians, Officers, Captains, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.

SCENE, SOMETIMES IN BRITAIN; SOMETIMES IN ROME

'The Tragedie of Cymbeline' was first printed in the folio collection of 1623. The play is very carefully divided into acts and scenes-ar arrangement which is sometimes wanting in other plays of this edition. Printed as Cymbeline' must have been from a manuscript, the text, although sometimes difficult, presents few examples of absolute error.

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CYMBELINE.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Britain. The Garden behind Cymbeline's Palace.

Enter Two Gentlemen.

1 GENT. You do not meet a man but frowns: our bloods No more obey the heavens, than our courtiers

Still seem as does the king.

2 GENT.

But what 's the matter?

1 GENT. His daughter, and the heir of his kingdom, whom He purpos'd to his wife's sole son, (a widow,

That late he married,) hath referr'd herself

Unto a poor but worthy gentleman: She's wedded;
Her husband banish'd; she imprison'd: all

Is outward sorrow; though, I think, the king
Be touch'd at very heart.

2 GENT.

None but the king?

1 GENT. He that hath lost her, too: so is the queen, That most desir'd the match: But not a courtier Although they wear their faces to the bent

Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not
Glad at the thing they scowl at.

2 GENT.

And why so?

1 GENT. He that hath miss'd the princess is a thing Too bad for bad report: and he that hath her, (I mean, that married her,—alack, good man!— And therefore banish'd,) is a creature such As to seek through the regions of the earth For one his like, there would be something failing In him that should compare. I do not think

So fair an outward, and such stuff within,
Endows a man but he.

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1 GENT. I do extend him, sir, within himself; Crush him together, rather than unfold

His measure duly.

2 GENT.

What's his name, and birth?

1 GENT. I cannot delve him to the root: His father

Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honour,

Against the Romans, with Cassibelan;
But had his titles by Tenantius, whom
He serv'd with glory and admir'd success:
So gain'd the sur-addition, Leonatus:
And had, besides this gentleman in question,
Two other sons, who, in the wars o' the time,

Died with their swords in hand; for which, their father
(Then old and fond of issue,) took such sorrow
That he quit being; and his gentle lady,
Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceas'd
As he was born. The king, he takes the babe
To his protection; calls him Posthumus Leonatus;
Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber:
Puts to him all the learnings that his time
Could make him the receiver of; which he took,
As we do air, fast as 't was minister'd,
And in 's spring became a harvest: Liv'd in court,
(Which rare it is to do,) most prais'd, most lov'd:
A sample to the youngest; to th' more mature
A glass that feated them; and to the graver,
A child that guided dotards: to his mistress-
For whom he now is banish'd- her own price
Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue;
By her election may be truly read

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He had two sons, (if this be worth your hearing,
Mark it,) the eldest of them at three years old,

I' the swathing clothes the other, from their nursery
Were stolen; and to this hour no guess in knowledge
Which way they went.

2 GENT.

How long is this ago?

1 GENT. Some twenty years.

2 GENT. That a king's children should be so convey'd! So slackly guarded! And the search so slow,

That could not trace them!

1 GENT.

Howsoe'er 't is strange,

Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,

Yet is it true, sir.

2 GENT.

I do well believe you.

1 GENT. We must forbear: Here comes the gentleman, The queen, and princess.

SCENE II-The same.

Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN.

[Exeunt.

QUEEN. No, be assur'd, you shall not find me, daughter,

After the slander of most step-mothers,

Evil-ey'd unto you: you are my prisoner, but

Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys

That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
So soon as I can win the offended king,

I will be known your advocate: marry, yet
The fire of rage is in him; and 't were good,
You lean'd unto his sentence, with what patience
Your wisdom may inform you.

POST.

I will from hence to-day.

QUEEN.

Please your highness,

You know the peril :

I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying

The pangs of barr'd affections; though the king
Hath charg'd you should not speak together.

[Exit QUEEN.

IMO. O dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant
Can tickle where she wounds!-My dearest husband,
I something fear my father's wrath; but nothing
(Always reserv'd my holy duty) what

His rage can do on me: You must be gone;
And I shall here abide the hourly shot

Of angry eyes; not comforted to live,
But that there is this jewel in the world,
That I may see again.

POST. My queen! my mistress!

O, lady, weep no more; lest I give cause
To be suspected of more tenderness

Than doth become a man! I will remain
The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth.
My residence in Rome, at one Philario's ;
Who to my father was a friend, to me

Known but by letter: thither write, my queen,

And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send,
Though ink be made of gall.

QUEEN.

Re-enter QUEEN.

Be brief, I pray you:

[Aside.

[Exit.

If the king come, I shall incur I know not
How much of his displeasure: Yet I'll move him
To walk this way: I never do him wrong,
But he does buy my injuries to be friends;
Pays dear for my offences.

POST.

Should we be taking leave
As long a term as yet we have to live,
The loathness to depart would grow: Adieu!

IMO. Nay, stay a little:

Were you but riding forth to air yourself,
Such parting were too petty. Look here, love;
This diamond was my mother's: take it, heart;
But keep it till you woo another wife,
When Imogen is dead.

POST. How! how! another?

You gentle gods, give me but this I have,
And sear up my embracements from a next

With bonds of death!-Remain, remain thou here.
[Putting on the ring.

While sense can keep it on! And sweetest, fairest,
As I my poor self did exchange for you,

To your so infinite loss; so, in our trifles,
I still win of you: For my sake wear this;
It is a manacle of love; I'll place it

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