DRAMATIS PERSONE'.

CYMBELINE, King of Britain.

CLOTEN, Son to the Queen by a former Husband.

LEONATUS POSTHUMUS, Husband to Imogen.

BELARIUS, a banished Lord, disguised under the name of Morgan. GUIDERIUS, J Sons to Cymbeline, disguised under the names of ARVIRAGUS, Polydore and Cadwal, supposed Sons to Belarius. PHILARIO, Friend to Posthumus,

IACHIMO, Friend to Philario,

}

Italians.

A French Gentleman, Friend to Philario.

CAIUS LUCIUS, General of the Roman Forces.

A Roman Captain.

Two British Captains.

PISANIO, Servant to Posthumus.

CORNELIUS, a Physician.

Two Gentlemen.

Two Jailors.

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.

SCENE, sometimes in Britain, sometimes in Italy.

No list of characters is found in any of the old editions, and it was first added by Rowe.

CYMBELINE.

ACT I. SCENE I.

Britain. The Garden behind CYMBELINE'S Palace.

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'.

2 Gent.

But what's the matter?

1 Gent. His daughter, and the heir of's 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
That most desir'd the match; but not a courtier,
Although they wear their faces to the bent

queen,

1 Still seem as does the KING.] All the commentators have stumbled at the threshold of this play: the difficulty has been occasioned by an apparent error in the folio, 1623, (repeated in the later folios) where "king" is printed kings : omit a single letter, as Tyrwhitt proposed, and the passage is then sufficiently perspicuous. Coleridge (Lit. Rem. vol. ii. p. 126) conjectured that "courtiers" might be a misprint for countenances, but the measure would thereby be destroyed, and the meaning not much elucidated.

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 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 far2.

1 Gent. I do extend him, sir, within himself; Crush him together, rather than unfold

His measure duly.

His father

2 Gent.
What's his name, and birth?
1 Gent. I cannot delve him to the root.
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 his 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 Leonatus;
Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber,

2 You speak him FAR.] We might suspect that "far" is a misprint for fair; but as the sense of "far" is not only clear, but stronger than that afforded by fair, we of course adhere to the old reading. The gentleman does more than speak Posthumus fair; he speaks him "far," or carries his praise to an extreme. The next speech confirms this explanation, if confirmation be needed.

Puts to him 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,
(Which rare it is to do) most prais'd, most lov'd;
A sample to the youngest, to the more mature,
A glass that feated them; and to the graver,
A child that guided dotards: to his mistress,
For whom he now is banish'd, her own price
Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue;
By her election may be truly read

What kind of man he is.

2 Gent.

Even out of your report.
Is she sole child to the king?

I honour him,

But, pray you,

tell me,

His only child.

1 Gent. He had two sons, (if this be worth your hearing, Mark it) the eldest of them at three years old, I' the swathing clothes the other, from their nursery Were stolen; and to this hour no guess in knowledge Which way they went.

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!

1 Gent.

Howsoe'er 'tis strange,

Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,

› A glass that FEATED them ;] Possibly "feated," as Mr. Barry thinks, is a misprint for featur'd; but "feated" may be easily understood as made them " feat," i. e. according to Minsheu, fine, neat, brave.

SCENE II.

The Same.

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

That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
So soon as I can win th' 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 patience
Your wisdom may inform you.

Post.

I will from hence to-day.

Queen.

Please your highness,

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, I something fear my father's wrath; but nothing (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; not comforted to live,

But that there is this jewel in the world,
That I may see again.

Post.

My queen! my mistress!

O, lady! weep no more, lest I give cause