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So please you entertain me.

Ay, good youth;
And rather father thee, than master thee.-
My friends,
The boy hath taught us manly duties: Let us
Find out the prettiest daizied plot we can,
And make him with our pikes and partisans
A grave: Come, arm him.-Boy, he is preferr'd
By thee to us; and he shall be interr’d,
As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes:
Some falls are means the happier to arise. (Exeunt.

A Room in Cymbeline's Palace.

Enter CYMBELINE, Lords, and Pisanio. Cym. Again; and bring me word, how 'tis with her. A fever with the absence of her son; A madness, of which her life's in danger:-Heavens, How deeply you at once do touch me! Imogen, The great part of my comfort, gone; my queen Upon a desperate bed; and in a time When fearful wars point at me; her son gone, So needful for this present: It strikes me, past The hope of comfort. But for thee, fellow, Who needs must know of her departure, and Dost seem so ignorant, we'll enforce it from thee By a sharp torture. Pis.

Sir, my life is yours, I humbly set it at your will: But, for my mistress, I nothing know where she remains, why gone, Nor when she purposes return. 'Beseech your high


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arm him.] That is, Take him up in your arms.

Hold me your loyal servant.
i Lord.

Good, my liege,
The day that she was missing, he was here:
I dare be bound he's true, and shall perform
All parts of his subjection loyally.
For Cloten,-
There wants no diligence in seeking him,
And will, no doubt, be found.

The time's troublesome: We'll slip you for a season; but our jealousy

[To Pisanio. Does yet depend. ] Lord.

So please your majesty,
The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn,
Are landed on your coast; with a supply
Of Roman gentlemen, by the senate sent.

Cym. Now for the counsel of my son, and queen! I am amaz'd with matter. i Lord.

Good my liege, Your preparation can affront no less Than what you hear of:8 come more, for more

you're ready: The want is, but to put those powers in motion, That long to move.

I thank you: Let's withdraw: And meet the time, as it seeks us. We fear not What can from Italy annoy us; but We grieve at chances here.—Away. (Exeunt.

Pis. I heard no letter from my master, since I wrote him, Imogen was slain: 'Tis strange: Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise To yield me often tidings; Neither know I What is betid to Cloten; but remain

? I am amaz'd with matter.] i. e. confounded by a variety of business.

* Your preparation can affront, &c.] Your forces are able to face such an army as we hear the enemy will bring against us.

Perplex'd in all. The heavens still must work: Wherein I am false, I am honest; not true, to be

true. These present wars shall find I love my country, Even to the note o'the king,' or I'll fall in them. All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd: Fortune brings in some boats, that are not steer'd.



Before the Cave. Enter BelarIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS. Gui. The noise is round about us. Bel.

Let us from it.
Arv. What pleasure, sir, find we in life, to lock it
From action and adventure?

Nay, what hope
Have we in hiding us? this way, the Romans
Must or for Britons slay us; or receive us
For barbarous and unnatural revolts'
During their use, and slay us after.

We'll higher to the mountains; there secure us.
To the king's party there's no going: newness
Of Cloten's death (we being not known, not mus-

ter'd Among the bands) may drive us to a render Where we have liv'd;and so extort from us

i — to the note o'the king,] I will so distinguish myself, the king shall remark my valour. 1 revolts-] i, e, revolters.

- a render Where we have liv'd;] An account of our place of abode. This dialogue is a just representation of the superfluous caution of an old man.

That which we've done, whose answer would be

Drawn on with torture.

This is, sir, a doubt,
In such a time, nothing becoming you,
Nor satisfying us.

It is not likely,
That when they hear the Roman horses neigh,
Behold their quarter'd fires, have both their eyes
And ears so cloy'd importantly as now,
That they will waste their time upon our note,
To know froin whence we are.

O, I am known Of many in the army: many years, Though Cloten then but young, you see, not wore

From my remembrance. And, besides, the king
Hath not desery'd my service, nor your loves;
Who find in my exíle the want of breeding,
The certainty of this hard life; aye hopeless
To have the courtesy your cradle promis'd,
But to be still hot summer's tanlings, and
The shrinking slaves of winter.

Than be so,
Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to the army:
I and my brother are not known; yourself,
So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown,
Cannot be question’d.

By this sun that shines,
I'll thither: What thing is it, that I never
Did see man die? scarce ever look'd on blood,
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison?
Never bestrid a horse, save one, that had
A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel

'— their quarter'd fires,] Quarter'd fires, I believe, ineans no more than fires in the respective quarters of the Roman army.



Nor iron on his heel? I am asham'd
To look upon the holy sun, to have
The benefit of his bless'd beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.

By heavens, I'll go:
If you will bless me, sir, and give me leave,
I'll take the better care; but if you will not,
The hazard therefore due fall on me, by
The hands of Romans!

So say I; Amen.
Bel. No reason I, since on your lives you set
So slight a valuation, should reserve
My crack'd one to more care. Have with you, boys:
If in your country wars you chance to die,
That is my bed too, lads, and there I'll lie:
Lead, lead.—The time seems long; their blood

thinks scorn, Till it fly out, and show them princes born.


ntoo, lads, anons long: the


ACT V. SCENE I. A Field between the British and Roman

Camps. Enter Posthumus, with a bloody Handkerchief." Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for I


- bloody handkerchief.] The bloody token of Imogen's death, which Pisanio in the foregoing Act determined to send.

5 Yea, bloody cloth, &c.] This is a soliloquy of nature, uttered when the effervescence of a mind agitated and perturbed, spontaneously and inadvertently discharges itself in words. The speech throughout all its tenor, if the last conceit be excepted, seems to issue warm from the heart. He first condemns his own violence ;

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