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He is a man; I'll love him as my brother:
And fuch a welcome as I'd give to him,

After long abfence, fuch is yours. Moft welcome!
Be fprightly, for you fall 'mongst friends.
Imo. 'Mongft friends,

If brothers-Would it had been fo that they
Had been my father's fons; then had my price
Been lefs, and fo more equal balancing

To thee, Pofthumus.

Bel. He wrings at some distress.
Guid. Would I could free't!
Arv. Or I, whate'er it be,

What pain it coft, what danger; Gods!

Bel. Hark, boys.

Imo. Great men,

That had a Court no bigger than this cave,

Afide,

[Whispering:

That did attend themselves, and had the virtue
Which their own confcience feal'd them, laying by
That nothing-gift of 'defering multitudes,
Could not out-peer these twain. Pardon me, Gods,
I'd change my fex to be companion with them,
Since Leonatus is falfe.

Bel. It fhall be fo:

in;

Boys, we'll go drefs our hunt. Fair youth, come in ;
Difcourfe is heavy, fafting; when we've fupp'd,
We'll mannerly demand thee of thy ftory,

So far as thou wilt fpeak.

Guid. I pray draw near.

Arv. The night to th' owl, and morn to th' lark, lefs

welcome!

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[Exeunt. SCENE

[Exeunt,

1 Sen.

SCENE VIII. Rome.

Enter two Roman Senators, and Tribunes.

His is the tenor of the Emperor's writ ;

TH

That fince the common men are now in action

'Gainst the Pannonians and Dalmatians,

And that the legions now in Gallia, are

Full

3 prize 4 ballafting 5 differing... old edit. Theob, emend.

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CYMBELIN E's Palace.

Enter Cymbeline, Lords, and Pifanio:

Cym. A Gain; and bring me word how 'tis with her ;

A fever with the abfence of her fon;

Madness, of which her life's in danger; heav'ns!
How deeply you at once do touch me! Imogen,
The great part of my comfort, gone! my Queen
Upon a defperate bed, and in a time

When fearful wars point at me! her fon gone,
So needful for this prefent! it ftrikes me, paft
The hope of comfort. But for thee, fellow,
Who needs must know of her departure, and
Doft feem fo ignorant, we'll force it from thee
By a fharp torture.

Pif. Sir, my life is yours,

I fet it at your will: but for my mistress,

I nothing know where fhe remains, why gone,
Nor when the purposes return.

Hold me your loyal fervant.

Lord. Good my Liege,

M 2

Befeech you,

The

Full weak to undertake our war against
The fall'n off Britons; that we do incite
The gentry to this bufinefs. He creates
Lucius Pro-conful: and to you the Tribunes
For this immediate levy, he commands
His abfolute commiffion. Long live Cafar!
Tri. Is Lucius Gen'ral of the forces?
2 Sen. Ay.

Tri. Remaining now in Gallia ?

1 Sen. With those legions

Which I have spoke of, whereunto your levy

Must be fappliant: the words of your commiffion

Will tie you to the numbers and the time

Of their difpatch.

Tri. We will discharge our duty.

6 your highness

[Exeunt.

The day that she was miffing, he was here;
I dare be bound he's true, and fhall perform
All parts of his fubjection loyally. For Cloten,
There wants no diligence in feeking him,
7' He will no doubt be found.

Cym. The time is troublesome ;

We'll flip you for a season, but our jealoufie
Do's yet depend.

Lord. So pleafe your Majefty,

The Roman legions all from Gallia drawn,
Are landed on your coaft, with large fupply
Of Roman Gentlemen, by th' Senate fent.

Cymb. Now for the counsel of my fon and Queen:
I am amaz'd with matter.

Lord. Good my Liege,

Your preparation can affront no lefs

Than what you hear of. Come more, for more you're ready;

The want is, but to put these powers in motion,

That long to move.

Cym. I thank you; let's withdraw
And meet the time, as it feeks us. We fear not
What can from Italy annoy us, but
We grieve at chances here. 'Come, let's away.
[Exeunt Cymbeline and Lords.
Pif. I've had no letter from my mafter, fince
I wrote him Imogen was flain. 'Tis strange;
Nor hear I from my miftrefs, who did promife
To yield me often tidings. Neither know I
What is betid to Cloten, but remain

Perplext in all. The heavens ftill muft work;
Wherein I'm false, I'm honeft; not true, true.`
These present wars fhall find I love my country,
Ev'n to the note o'th' King, or I'll fall in them;
All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd;
Fortune brings in fome boats that are not fteer'd. [Exit.

ACT

7 And

8 Away.

9 I heard

I not true, to be true.

ACT IV.

I Am

SCENE I.

The FOREST.

Enter Cloten alone.

Am near to th' place where they fhould meet, if Pifanio have mapp'd it truly. How fit his garments ferve me! why fhould his miftrefs, who was made by him that made the tailor, not be fit too? the rather, (faving reverence of the word,) because 'tis faid, a woman's fitness comes by fits. Therein I muft play the workman; I dare fpeak it to my felf, for it is no vainglory for a man and his glafs to confer in his own chamber; I mean, the lines of my body are as well drawn as his; no lefs young, more ftrong, not beneath him in fortunes, beyond him in the advantage of the time, above him in birth, alike converfant in general services, and more remarkable in fingle oppofitions; yet this 'ill-perfeverant thing loves him in my defpight. What mortality is! Pofthumus, thy head which is now growing upon thy fhoulders, fhall within this hour be off, thy mistress enforc'd, thy garments cut to pieces before' 'her face; and all this done, 'I'll fpurn her home to her father, who may, happily, be a little angry for my fo rough ufage; but my mother having power of his teftinefs, fhall turn all into my commendations. My horfe is ty'd up fafe: out, fword, and to a fore purpose! fortune put them into my hand! this is the very defcription of their meeting-place, and the fellow dares not deceive [Exit.

me.

2 imperfeverant 3 thy.... old edit. Warb, emend.

M 3

4 spurn

SCENE

SCENE II.

The Front of the Cave.

Enter Bellarius, Guiderius, Arviragus, and Imogen, from the Cave.

Bel. You are not well: remain here in the cave We'll come t' you after hunting.

Arv. Brother, stay here:

Are we not brothers?

Imo. So man and man fhould be,
But clay and clay differs in dignity,
Whofe duft is both alike. I'm very fick.

Guid. Go you to hunting, I'll abide with him.
Imo. So fick I am not, yet I am not well,

But not fo citizen a wanton, as

To feem to die, ere fick: fo please you, leave me,
Stick to your journal courfe; the breach of cuftom,
Is breach of all. I'm ill, but your being by me
Cannot amend me. Society is no comfort
To one not fociable: I'm not very fick,

Since I can reafon of't. Pray you truft me here,
I'll rob none but my felf, and let me die
Stealing fo poorly.

Guid. I love thee: I have spoke it;

How much the quantity, the weight as much,
As I do love my father.

Bel. What? how? how?

Arv. If it be fin to fay fo, Sir, I yoak me
In my good brother's fault: I know not why
I love this youth, and I have heard you fay,
Love reasons without reafon. The bier at door,
And a demand who is't fhall die, I'd fay
My father, not this youth.

Bel. Oh noble strain!

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