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That thou art even natural in thine art.-
But, for all this, my honest-natur'd friends,
I must needs say, you have a little fault:
Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you; neither wish
You take much pains to mend.

Both. Beseech your honour,

To make it known to us.
Tim. You'll take it ill.

Both. Most thankfully, my lord.
Tim. Will you, indeed?

Both. Doubt it not, worthy lord.

[I,

[knave,

Tim. There's ne'er a one of you but trusts a That mightily deceives you. Both. Do we, my lord?

Tim. Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble,

Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him,
Keep in your bosom: yet remain assur'd,
That he's a made-up villain.t

Pain. I know none such, my lord.
Poet. Nor I.

Tim. Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold,

Rid me these villains from your companies: Hang them, or stab them, drown them in a draught,+ Confound them by some course, and come to I'll give you gold enough. [me, Both. Name them, my lord, let's know them. Tim. You that way, and you this, but two in company:

Each man apart, all single and alone, Yet an arch-villain keeps him company. If, where thou art, two villains shall not be. [To the PAINTER. Come not near him.If thou would'st not reside [To the POET. But where one villain is, then him abandon.Hence! pack! there's gold, ye came for gold, ye slaves: [Hence! You have done work for me, there's payment: You are an alchymist, maké gold of that:Out, rascal dogs!

[Exit, beating and driving them out. SCENE 11.-The sume. Enter FLAVIUS, and two SENATORS. Flav. It is in vain that you would speak with For he is set so only to himself, [Timon; That nothing but himself, which looks like Is friendly with him.

1 Sen. Bring us to his cave:

[man,

It is our part, and promise to the Athenians, To speak with Timon.

2 Sen. At all times alike

Men are not still the same: 'Twas time, and griefs,

[hand, That fram'd him thus: time, with his fairer Offering the fortunes of his former days, The former man may make him: Bring us to And chance it as it may. [him,

A portrait was so called.
A complete, a finished villain,

+ In a jakes,

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Tim. I thank them; and would send them back the plague,

Could I but catch it for them.

1 Sen. O, forget

What we are sorry for ourselves in thee.
The senators, with one consent of love,*
Entreat thee back to Athens; who have
thought

On special dignities, which vacant lie
For thy best use and wearing.

2 Sen. They confess,

Toward thee, forgetfulness too general, gross:
Which now the public body,-which doth sel-
Play the recanter,-feeling in itself [dom

A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal
Of its own fall, restraining aid to Timon;
And send forth us, to make their sorrowed
render,t

Together with a recompense more fruitful
Than their offence can weigh down by the
dram;
[wealth,
Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and
As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were
theirs,

And write in thee the figures of their love,
Ever to read them thine.

Tim. You witch me in it;
Surprise me to the very brink of tears:
Lend me a fool's heart, and a woman's eyes,
And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy sena-

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Live with authority:-so soon we shall drive
Of Alcibiades the approaches wild; [back
Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up
His country's peace.

2 Sen. And shakes his threat'ning sword Against the walls of Athens.

1 Sen. Therefore, Timon,

Tim. Well, Sir, I will; therefore, I will, Sir; Thus,

If Alcibiades kill my countrymen,

Let Alcibiades know this of Timon, [Athens, That-Timon cares not. But if he sack fair And take our goodly aged men by the beards, Giving our holy virgins to the stain

Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war; Then, let him know,-and tell him, Timon speaks it,

I cannot chuse but tell him, that I care not,
In pity of our aged, and our youth,

* With one united voice of affection.
+ Confession. Licensed, uncontrolled.

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And let him tak't at worst; for their knives care not,

[you

While you have throats to answer: for myself,
There's not a whittle* in the unruly camp,
But I do prize it at my love, before
The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave
To the protection of the prosperous gods,t
As thieves to keepers.

Flav. Stay not, all's in vain.

Tim. Why, I was writing of my epitaph, It will be seen to-morrow; My long sickness Of health, and living, now begins to mend, And nothing brings me all things. Go, live Be Alcibiades your plague, you his, And last so long enough!

1 Sen. We speak in vain.

[still;

Tim. But yet I love my country; and am not One that rejoices in the common wreck, As common bruit doth put it.

1 Sen. That's well spoke.

Tim. Commend me to my loving country.

men,

1 Sen. These words become your lips as they pass through them.

2.Sen. And enter in our ears like great triúmphers

In their applauding gates.

Tim. Commend me to them;

And tell them, that, to ease them of their griefs, Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses,

Their pangs of love, with other incident throes
That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain
In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kind-
ness do them:

I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath.

2 Sen. I like this well, he will return again. Tim. I have a tree, which grows here:inimy close,

That mine own use invites me to cut down,
And shortly must I fell it; Tell my friends,
Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree,||
From high to low throughout, that whoso
please

To stop affliction, let him take his haste,
Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe,
And hang himself:-I pray you, do my greet.
ing.

Fluv. Trouble him no further, thus you still shall find him.

Tim. Come not to me again: but say to
Athens,

Timon hath made his everlasting mansion
Upon the beached'verge of the salt flood;
Which once a day with his embossed froth
The turbulent surge shall cover; thither come,
And let my grave-stone be your oracle,-
Lips, let sour words go by, and language end:
What is amiss, plague and infection mend!
Graves only be men's works; and death, their
gain!

Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his
reign.
[Exit TIMON.
1 Sen. His discontents are unremoveably
Coupled to nature.

2 Sen. Our hope in him is dead: let us return, And strain what other means is left unto us In our dear** peril.

8 Sen. It requires swift foot.

*A clasp knife.

[Exeunt.

+1. c. The gods who are the authors of the prosperity of

mankind.

He means the disease of life begins to promise me a period. Report, rumour. Methodically, from highest to lowest. Swollen froth. **Dreadful

SCENE III.-The Walls of Athens. Enter two SENATORS, and a MESSENGER.

1 Sen. Thou hast painfully discover'd; are his files

As full as thy report?

Mess. I have spoke the least: Besides, his expedition promises Present approach.

2 Sen. We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon.

Mess. I met a courier, one mine ancient friend ;[pos'd, Whom, though in general part we were opYet our old love made a particular force, And made us speak like friends:-this man was riding

From Alcibiades to Timon's cave,
With letters of entreaty, which imported
His fellowship i'the cause against your city,
In part for his sake mov❜d.

Enter SENATORS from TIMON.

1 Sen. Here come our brothers.

2 Sen. No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect.[ing The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scourDoth choke the air with dust: in and prepare ; Ours is the fall, I fear, our foes, the snare.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-The Woods.-TIMON'S Cave, and a Tomb-stone seen.

Enter a SOLDIER, seeking TIMON.

Sol. By all description this should be the place.

Who's here? speak, ho!-No answer?-What is this?

Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span:
Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a
Dead, sure; and this his grave.—
What's on this tomb I cannot read; the cha-
I'll take with wax.
[racter

[man.

Our captain hath in every figure skill;
An ag'd interpreter, though young in days:
Before proud Athens he's set down by this,
Whose fall the mark of his ambition is. [Exit.

SCENE V.-Before the Walls of Athens.
Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES, and
Forces.

Alcib. Sound to this coward and lascivious town Our terrible approach. [A Parley sounded. Enter SENATORS on the Walls.

Till now you have gone on, and fill'd the time With all licentious measure, making your wills The scope of justice; till now, myself, and

such

As slept within the shadow of your power, Have wander'd with our travers'd arms, and breath'd

Our sufferance vainly: Now the time is flush,t When crouching marrow, in the bearer strong, Cries, of itself, No more: now breathless wrong, Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease; And pursy insolence shall break his wind, With fear and horrid flight.

1 Sen. Noble and young, When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit, Ere thou hadst power, or we had cause of fear We sent to thee; to give thy rages balm, + Mature.

» Arma across.

To wipe out our ingratitude with loves

Above their quantity.

2 Sen. So did we woo

Transformed Timon to our city's love,

Shall make their harbour in our town, till we Have seal'd thy full desire.

Alcib. Then there's my glove; Descend, and open your uncharged ports;"

By humble message, and by promis'd means ;* Those enemies of Timon's, and mine own,

We were not all unkind, nor all deserve
The common stroke of war.

1 Sen. These walls of ours

Were not erected by their hands, from whom You have receiv'd your griefs: nor are they such,

Than these great towers, trophies, and schools should fall

For private faults in them.

2 Sen. Nor are they living,

Who were the motives that you first went out;
Shame, that they wanted cunning, in excess
Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord,
Into our city with thy banners spread:
By decimation, and a tithed death,
(If thy revenges hunger for that food,
Which nature loaths,) take thou the destin'd
tenth;

And by the hazard of the spotted die,
Let die the spotted.

1 Sen. All have not offended;

For those that were, it is not square,t to take, On those that are, revenges: crimes, like lands,

Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman, Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy

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Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof,
Fall, and no more: and,-to atonet your fears
With my more noble meaning,-not a man
Shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream
Of regular justice in your city's bounds,
But shall be remedied, to your public laws
At heaviest answer.

Both. 'Tis most nobly spoken.

Alcib. Descend, and keep your words.

The SENATORS descend, and open the Gates. Enter a SOLdier.

Sold. My noble general, Timon is dead; Entomb'd upon the very hem o'the sea: And on his grave-stone, this insculpture; which [sion With wax I brought away, whose soft impres Interprets for my poor ignorance.

Alcib. [Reads.] Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft:

Seek not my name: A plague consume you wicked caitiff's left!

Here lie I Timon; who, alive, all living men did hate:

Pass by, and curse thy fill; but pass, and stay not here thy gait.

These well express in thee thy latter spirits: Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs, Scorn'dst our brain's flow, and those our droplets which

From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for

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CYMBELINE.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

CYMBELINE, King of Britain. CLOTEN, Son to the Queen by a former husband.

LEONATUS POSTHUMUS, a Gentleman, Husband to Imogen.

BELARIUS, a banished Lord, disguised under the name of MORGAN.

GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS,

Sons to Cymbeline, disguised under the names of POLYDORE and CADWAL, supposed Sons to Belarius.

PHILARIO, Friend to Posthumus, Italians. IACHIMO, Friend to Philario,

A FRENCH GENTLEMAN, Friend to Philario. CAIUS LUCIUS, General of the Roman Forces.

CORNELIUS, a Physician.
Two GENTLEMEN.
Two JAILERS.

QUEEN, Wife to Cymbeline.
IMOGEN, Daughter to Cymbeline, by a former
Queen.

HELEN, Woman to Imogen.

Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, Apparitions, a Soothsayer, a Dutch Gentleman, a Spanish Gentleman, Musicians, Officers, Captains, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.

A ROMAN CAPTAIN. Two British CAPTAINS. SCENE, Sometimes in Britain; sometimes in PISANIO, Servant to Posthumus.

Italy.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-Britain.-The Garden behind
CYMBELINE'S Pulace.

Enter two Gentlemen.

1 Gent. You do not meet a man, but frowns: our bloods*

No more obey the heavens, than our courtiers; Still seem, as does the king's.

2 Gen. But what's the matter?

1 Gent. His daughter, and the heir of his kingdom, whom He purpos'd to his wife's sole son, (a widow, That late he married,) hath referr'd herself Unto a poor but worthy gentleman: She's wedded;

Her husband banish'd; she imprison'd: all Is outward sorrow; though I think, the king Be touch'd at very heart.

2 Gent. None but the king?

1 Gent. He, that hath lost her, too: so is the [tier, queen, That most desir'd the match: But not a courAlthough they wear their faces to the bent Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not Glad at the thing they scowl at.

2 Gent. And why so?

1 Gent. He that hath miss'd the princess, is a thing

Too bad for bad report: and he that hath her,
(I mean, that married her,-alack, good man!—
And therefore banish'd) is a creature such
As, to seek through the regions of the earth

Inclination, natural disposition.

For one his like, there would be something failing

In him that should compare. I do not think, So fair an outward, and such stuff within, Endows a man but he.

2 Gent. You speak him far.*

1 Gent. I do extend him, Sir, within himself; Crush him together, rather than unfold His measure duly.t

2 Gent. What's his name, and birth?

1 Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: His

father

Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honour,
Against the Romans, with Cassibelan;
But had his titles by Tenantius, whom
He serv'd with glory and admir'd success:
So gain'd the sur-addition, Leonatus:
And had, besides this gentleman in question,
Two other sons, who, in the wars o'the time,
Died with their swords in hand; for which their
father

(Then old and fond of issue,) took such sorrow,
That he quit being; and this gentle lady,
Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceas'd
As he was born. The king, he takes the babe
To his protection; calls him Posthumus;
Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-cham-
ber:

Puts him to all the learnings that his time
Could make him the receiver of; which he
took,
As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd; and
In his spring became a harvest: Liv'd in court,

I. e. You praise him extensively.

My praise, however extensive, is within his ment.
The fathor of Cymbeline.

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2 Gent. How long is this ago?

1 Gent. Some twenty years.

2 Gent. That a king's children should be so
convey'd!

So slackly guarded! And the search so slow,
That could not trace them!

Gent. Howsoe'er 'tis strange,

Re-enter QUEEN.

Queen. Be brief, I pray you:

769

If the king come, I shall incur I know not How much of his displeasure :-Yet I'll move [Aside.

him

To walk this way: I never do him wrong, But he does buy my injuries, to be friends; Pays dear for my offences.

[Exit.

Post. Should we be taking leave
As long a term as yet we have to live,
The loathness to depart would grow: Adieu!
Imo. Nay, stay a little: I

Were you but riding forth to air yourself,
Such parting were too petty. Look here, love;
This diamond was my mother's: take it, heart;
But keep it till you woo another wife,
When Imogen is dead.

Post. How! how! another?You gentle gods, give me but this I have, And sear up my embracements from a next With bonds of death!-Remain thou here While senset can keep it on! And sweetest, [Putting on the Ring. fairest,

As I my poor self did exchange for you,

Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at, To your so infinite loss; so, in our trifles Yet is it true, Sir.

2 Gent. I do well believe you.

1 Gent. We must forbear: Here comes the queen and princess.

SCENE II.-The same.

[Exeunt.

Enter the QUEEN, Posthumus, and IMOGEN. Queen. No, be assur'd, you shall not find me,

daughter,

After the slander of most step-mothers,
Evil-ey'd unto you: you are my prisoner, but
Your jailer shall deliver you the keys [mus,
That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthú.
So soon as I can win the offended king,

I will be known your advocate: marry, yet
The fire of rage is in him; and 'twere good,
You lean'd unto his sentence, with what pa-
Your wisdom may inform you.
Post. Please your highness,

I will from hence to-day.

[tience

Queen. You know the peril :I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying The pangs of barr'd affections; though the king

Hath charg'd you should not speak together.
[Exit QUEEN.
Imo. O
Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant
Can tickle where she wounds !-My dearest
husband,
[thing,

I something fear my father's wrath; but no-
Always reserv'd my holy duty,) what
His rage can do on me: You must be gone;
And I shall here abide the hourly shot
Of angry eyes; nor comforted to live,
But that there is this jewel in this world,
That I may see again.

Post. My queen! my mistress!

O, lady, weep no more; lest I give cause
To be suspected of more tenderness
Than doth become a man! I will remain
The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth.
My residence in Rome at one Philario's;
Who to my father was a friend, to me
Known but by letter: thither write, my queen,
And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you
Though ink be made of gall.

Formed their manners.

[send,

I still win of you: For my sake, wear this;
It is a manacle of love; I'll place it
Upon this fairest prisoner.

[Putting a Bracelet on her Arm.

Imo. O, the gods!

When shall we see again?

Enter CYMBELINE and LORDS.

Post. Alack, the king!

Cym. Thou basest thing, avoid! hence, from

my sight!

If, after this command, thou fraught the court With thy unworthiness, thou diest: Away! Thou art poison to my blood.

Post. The gods protect you! And bless the good remainders of the court! I am gone.

Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death More sharp than this is.

Cym. O disloyal thing,

[Exit.

That should'st repair my youth; thou heapest A year's age on me!

Imo. I beseech you, Sir,

Harm not yourself with your vexation; I
Am senseless of your wrath; a touch more
Subdues all pangs, all fears.

Cym. Past grace? obedience?

[rares

Imo. Past hope, and in despair; that way,

past grace.

Cym. That might'st have had the sole son of

my queen!

Imo. O bless'd, that I might not! I chose an eagle, And did avoid a puttock.T

Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; would'st have made my throne

A seat for baseness.

Imo. No; I rather added
A lustre to it.

Cym. thou vile one!
Imo. Sir,

It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus:
You bred him as my playfellow; and he is
A man, worth any woman; overbuys me
Almost the sum he pays.

Cym. What!-art thou mad?

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