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Were crack'd of kitchen trulls, or his description Prov'd us unspeaking sots.
Cym. Nay, nay, to the purpose.
lach. Your daughter's chastity--there it begins. He spake of her, as Dian had hot dreams, And she alone were cold: Whereat, I, wretch! Made scruple of his praise; and wager'd with him Pieces of gold, 'gainst this which then he wore Upon his honour'd finger, to attain In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring By hers and mine adultery: he, true knight, No leffer of her honour confident Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring; And would so, had it been a carbuncle 2 Of Phæbus' wheel; and might so safely, had it Been all the worth of his car. Away to Britain Poft I in this design: Well may you, sir, Remember me at court, where I was taught Of your chaste daughter the wide difference 'Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quench'd Of hope, not longing, inine Italian brain 'Gan in your duller Britain operate Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent; And, to be brief, my practice so prevailid, That I return’d with simular proof enough To make the noble Leonatus mad, By wounding his belief in her renown With tokens thus, and thus; } averring notes Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet, (0, cunning, how I got it !) nay, some marks Of secret on her person, that he could not But think her bond of chastity quite crack's,
a carbuncle, &c.] So in Antony and Cleopatra :
-averring notes] Such marks of the chamber and pictures, as averred or confirmed my report. JOHNSON,
I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon,
Poft. Ay, so thou do'st. [Coming forward.
Imo. Peace, my lord; hear, hear
page, There lie thy part.
[Striking her, she falls. Pif. O, gentlemen, help Mine, and your mistress--0, my lord Posthumus!
* Some upright justicer !) I meet with this antiquated word in The Tragedy of Darius, 1603 :
“ Th' eternal justicer sees through the stars." Again, in Law Tricks, &c. 1608 :
« No: we must have an upright jufficer.” Again, in Warner's Albion's England, 1602, book x. chap. 54. “ Precelling his progenitors, a justicer upright.”
STEEVENS. and she herself.] That is, She was not only the temple of virtue, but virtue herself. JOHNSON. Vol. IX.
You ne'er kill'd Imogen 'till now:-Help, help!
Cym. Does the world go round?
Cym. If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me To death with mortal joy.
Pif. How fares my mistress?
Imo. O, get thee from my sight;
Cym. The tune of Imogen!
That box I gave you was not thought by me
Cyın. New matter still ?
Cor. O gods !
Cym. What's this, Cornelius?
Cor. The queen, fir, very oft importun'd me
.these flaggers-] This wild and delirious perturbazion. Staggers is the horse's apoplexy. JOHNSON.
Imo. Most like I did, for I was dead.
Bel. My boys, There was our error.
Guid. This is sure Fidele.
Imo. Why did you throw your wedded lady from ? Think, that you are upon a rock; and now Throw me again.
Poft. Hang there like fruit, my soul, 'Till the tree die !
Cym. How now, my flesh, my child ?
[Kneeling Bel. Though you did love this youth, I blame you
not; You had a motive for't. [To Guiderius and Arviragus.
Cym. My tears, that fall,
7 Think, that you are upon a rock ;-] In this speech, or in the answer, there is little meaning. I suppose, she would say, Consider such another act as equally fatal to me with precipitation from a rock, and now let me see whether you will repeat it.
JOHNSON. Perhaps only a stage direction is wanting to clear this paffage from obscurity. Imogen first upbraids her husband for the violent treatment she had just experienced; then confident of the rcturn of passion which she knew must succeed to the discovery of her innocence, the poet might have meant her to rush into his arms, and while the clung about him faft, to dare him to throw her off a second time, lest that precipitation should prove as fatal to them both, as if the place where they stood had been a rock. To which he replies, hang there, i. e. round my neck, till the frame that now supports you thall decay. STEEVENS.
-a dullard-] In this place means a person stupidly unconcern'd. So in Hifriomaflix, or the Player whipt, 1610 :
“ What dullard! would'st thou doat in rusty art ?" Again, Stanyhurst in his version of the first book of Virgil, 1592: “ We Moores, lyke dullards, are not to wytles abyding.”.
Imo. I'm sorry for’t, my lord.
Cym. O, she was naught; and ’long of her it was,
Pif. My lord,
Guid. Let me end the story :
Cym. Marry, the gods forefend !
lips Pluck a hard sentence: pr’ythee, valiant youth, Deny't again.
Guid. I have spoke it, and I did it.
Guid. A most incivil one : The wrongs he did me
Cym. I am sorry for thee:
Imo. That headless man