« PreviousContinue »
• What air's from home. Haply this life is best,
your Aiff age : but unto us, it is
Arv. · What should we speak of, When we are old as you ? when we shall hear • The rain and wind beat dark December ? how, ' In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse 'The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing; "We're beastly ; subtle as the fox for prey, • Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat, "Our valour is to chase what flies ; our cage " We make a choir, as doth the prison's bird, ' And fing our bondage freely. Bel. · How you speak !
you but know the cities usuries, And felt them knowingly; the art o'th'court, • As hard to leave, as keep ; whose top to climb, • Is certain falling ; or so flipp’ry, that 'The fear's as bad as falling: the toil of war ; ' A pain that only seems to seek out danger 'P'th' name of fame and honour ; which dies i' the ' And hath as oft a sland'rous epitaph, [search, • As record of fair act; nay, many time, • Doth ill deserve, by doing well; what's worse, * Mult curt'fy at the censure.--"Oh, boys, this story " The world may read in me: my.body's mark'd “ With Roman swords ; and my report was once
First with the best of note. Cyın beline lov'd me ; " And when a' foldier was the theme, my name " Was not far off : then was I as a tree, " Whose boughs did bend with fruit. But, in one night, " A storm, or robbery, call it what you will, " Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves ; « And left me bare to weather,
Guid. Uncertain favour !
Bel. My fault being nothing, as I have told you oft, But that two villains (whose false oaths prevailed Before my Perfect honour) swore to Cymbeline,
I was confed’rate with the Romans : fo Follow'd my banishment; and, this twenty years, This rock and these demesnes have been my world; Where I have liv.'d at honelt freedom ; paid More pious debts to heaven, than in allThe fore-end of my time:But, up to th' mountains ! This is not hunters' language; he that strikes The venison first, shall be the lord oth' feast.; To him, the other two shall miniller, And we will fear no poison, which attends. In place of greater Itate. I'll meet you in the valleys. [Ēxeunt Guid, and Arvir. How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature ! Thele boys know little they are fons to the King ; Nor Cymbeline dreams that they're alive. They think they're mine, tho' trained up thus meanly, 1'th' cave, wherein they bow, their thoughts do hic The roof of palaces; and nature prompts them In fimple and low things, to prince it, much Beyond the trick *. of others. This Paladour, (The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, whom The King his father call'd Guiderius), Jove ! " When on my three-foot stool I fit, and tell • The warlike feats I've done, his spirits fly out • Into my story: fay, thus mine enemy fell, - And thus I fet my foot on's neck-even then “ The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats, “ Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in posture «That ads, my words-The younger brother Cad. (Once Arviragus), in as like a figure
[wall, Strikes life into my speech, and Thewsmuch more His own conceiving. Hark, the
Thou reft'st me of my lands. Euriphile,
* trick, for custom, habito
SCENE IV. Enter Pisanio and Imogen.
Pif. Please you, read; And you
shall find me, wretched man, a thing The most disdain'd. of fortune.
Imogen reads. Thy mistrefs, Pifanio, bath play'd the strumpet in my bed; the testimonies whereof lie bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak furmises, but from proof as strong as my grief, and as certain as I expect my revenge. That part thou, Pifanio, muft alt for me. If thy faith be not tainted with the breach of her's, let thine own hands take away her life. I shall give thee opportunity at Milford-naven. She hath my letter for the purpose; where, if thou fear 10ftrike, and to make me certain it is done, thou art the pander to her ai honour, and equally to we disloyal.
Pif. 'What shall I need to draw my sword ? the paper “Hath cut her throat already_No, 'uis slander ; "Whose edge is sharper than the tword, whole tongue : Outvenoms all the worms of Nile; whore breath • Rides on the posting winds, and doch belye · 6.Al.corners of the world. Kings, Queens, and ftates,,
• Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave, • This viperous flander enters. What chear, Madam?
Imo. False to his bed ! what is it to be false ?
To lie in watch there, and to think on him? • To weep 't wixt clock and clock ? if sleep.charge na"To break it with a fearful dream of him, [ture, . And cry myself awake ? that false to’s bed!
Pis. Alas, good lady!
Imo. I false? thy conscience witness, lachimy,-Thou didit accuse him of incontinency, Thou then look dst like a villain ; now methinks Thy favour's good enough. Some jay of Italy (Whose meether was her painting) hath betray'd him :: Poor I am Itale, a garment out of fashion; And, for I'm richer than to hang by th' walls, I must be ript: to pieces with me.: oh, Mens' vows are womens' traitors.---All good feeming By thy revolt, ch husband, shall be thought Put on for villainy: not born, where't grows; But worn, a bait for ladies.
Pif. Madam, hear me
Imo. • True honest men being heard, like false Æneas, • Were in his time thought falle: and Sinon's weeping • Did scandal many a boly tear ; took pity. • From most true wretchedness, so thou, Pofthumus, • Wilt lay the leaven to all proper men; • Goodly, and gallant, shall be false and perjur'd, • From thy great fail. Come; fellow, bę thou honest, Do thou thy master's bidding: when thou feeft him, A little witness my obedience. Look! I draw the sword myself, take it, and hit The innocent mansion of my Fear: not, 'tis empty of all things, but grief ;Ihy master is not there ; who was indeed: The riches of it. Do his bidding, strike; Thou may'st be valiant in a better cause, But now thou seem'st a coward.
Pis: Hence, vile instrument !
Imo. Why, I must die ;
There is a prohibition so divine, That cravens my weak hand.* : come, here's my heart, (Something's afore't)- soft, foft, we'll no defence ;
[Opening her breast. Obedient as the scabbard ! What is here? The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus All turn'd to heresy? away, away,
[Pulling his letters out of her bofom.
Pili o gracious Lady!
Imo, Do't, and to bed then..
Imo. Ah, wherefore then
Pis. But to win time
in C makes me a cowardo.