He is a man; I'll love him as my brother: After long abfence, fuch is yours. Moft welcome! If brothers-Would it had been fo that they To thee, Pofthumus. Bel. He wrings at some distress. 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 Bel. It fhall be fo: in; Boys, we'll go drefs our hunt. Fair youth, come in ; So far as thou wilt fpeak. Guid. I pray draw near. Arv. The night to th' owl, and morn to th' lark, lefs welcome! [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. 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! When fearful wars point at me! her fon gone, Pif. Sir, my life is yours, I fet it at your will: but for my mistress, I nothing know where fhe remains, why gone, Hold me your loyal fervant. Lord. Good my Liege, M 2 Befeech you, The Full weak to undertake our war against 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; Cym. The time is troublesome ; We'll flip you for a season, but our jealoufie Lord. So pleafe your Majefty, The Roman legions all from Gallia drawn, Cymb. Now for the counsel of my fon and Queen: 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 Perplext in all. The heavens ftill muft work; 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, Guid. Go you to hunting, I'll abide with him. But not fo citizen a wanton, as To feem to die, ere fick: fo please you, leave me, Since I can reafon of't. Pray you truft me here, Guid. I love thee: I have spoke it; How much the quantity, the weight as much, Bel. What? how? how? Arv. If it be fin to fay fo, Sir, I yoak me Bel. Oh noble strain! |