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Murder in heaven?-How?-'Tis gone.-Pisanio,
All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks,
And mine to boot, be darted on thee! Thou,
Conspir'd with that irregulous 40 devil, Cloten,
Hast here cut off my lord.-To write, and read,
Be henceforth treacherous !-Damn'd Pisanio
Hath with his forged letters,-damn'd Pisanio-
From this most bravest vessel of the world
Struck the main-top!-O, Posthumus! alas,
Where is thy head? where's that? Ah me! where's

Pisanio might have kill'd thee at the heart,

And left this head on 41.-How should this be? Pisanio?


'Tis he, and Cloten: malice and lucre in them
Have laid this woe here, O, 'tis pregnant, pregnant 42
The drug he gave me, which, he said, was precious
And cordial to me, have I not found it
Murd'rous to the senses? That confirms it home:
This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten's! O!—
Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood,
That we the horrider may seem to those
Which chance to find us: O, my lord, my lord!

Jove. The epithet is frequently so used in the old dramatic writers; particularly Heywood:

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Alcides here will stand

To plague you all with his high Jovial hand.'

The Silver Age,

40 Irregulous must mean lawless, licentious, out of rule. The word has not hitherto been met with elsewhere: but in Reinolds's God's Revenge against Adultery, ed. 1671, p. 121, we have 'irregulated lust.'

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41 This is another of the poet's lapses, unless we attribute the error to the old printers, and read, thy head on.' We must understand by this head,' the head of Posthumus; the head that did belong to this body.

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42 i. e. 'tis a ready, apposite conclusion.

Enter LUCIUS, a Captain, and other Officers, and a


Cap. To them the legions garrison'd in Gallia, After your will, have cross'd the sea; attending You here at Milford Haven, with your ships: They are here in readiness.


But what from Rome?

Cap. The senate hath stirr'd up the confiners, And gentlemen of Italy; most willing spirits, That promise noble service: and they come Under the conduct of bold Iachimo,

Sienna's brother 43.


When expect you them? Cap. With the next benefit o' the wind.


This forwardness Makes our hopes fair. Command, our present


Be muster'd; bid the captains look to't.—Now, sir, What have you dream'd, of late, of this war's purpose? Sooth. Last night the very gods show'd me a vision 44:

(I fast 45, and pray'd, for their intelligence), Thus :I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd

From the spungy 46 south to this part of the west, There vanish'd in the sunbeams: which portends

43 Shakspeare appears to have meant brother to the prince of Sienna. He was not aware that Sienna was a republic, or possibly did not heed it.

44 It was no common dream, but sent from the very gods, or the gods themselves.

45 Fast for fasted, as we have in another place of this play lift for lifted. In King John we have heat for heated, waft for wafted, &c. Similar phraseology will be found in the Bible, Mark, i. 31; John, xiii. 18; Exodus, xii. 8, &c.

46 Milton has availed himself of this epithet in Comus :

Thus I hurl

My dazzling spells into the spungy air.'



Unless my sins abuse my divination),
Success to the Roman host.

Dream often so,

And never false.-Soft, ho! what trunk is here,
Without his top? The ruin speaks, that sometime
It was a worthy building.-How! a page!—
Or dead, or sleeping on him? But dead, rather:
For nature doth abhor to make his bed

With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead.—
Let's see the boy's face.


He is alive, my lord. Luc. He'll then instruct us of this body.-Young


Inform us of thy fortunes: for it seems,

They crave to be demanded: Who is this,
Thou mak'st thy bloody pillow? Or who was he,
That, otherwise than noble nature did 47,

Hath alter'd that good picture? What's thy interest
In this sad wreck? How came it? Who is it?
What art thou?


I am nothing: or if not, Nothing to be were better. This was my master, A very valiant Briton, and a good,

That here by mountaineers lies slain:-Alas! There are no more such masters: I may wander From east to occident, cry out for service,

Try many, all good, serve truly, never

Find such another master.


'Lack, good youth! Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining, than Thy master in bleeding: Say his name, good friend. Imo. Richard du Champ 48. If I do lie, and do

47 Who has altered this picture, so as to make it otherwise than nature did it? Olivia, speaking of her own beauty as of a picture, asks Viola if it is not well done?'

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48 Shakspeare was indebted for his modern names (which sometimes are mixed with ancient ones), as well as for his ana

No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope


Thy name?

Fidele, sir.

They'll pardon it. Say you, sir?



Luc. Thou dost approve thyself the very same: Thy name well fits thy faith; thy faith, thy name. Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say, Thou shalt be so well master'd; but, be sure, No less belov'd. The Roman emperor's letters, Sent by a consul to me, should not sooner Than thine own worth prefer thee: Go with me. Imo. I'll follow, sir. But first, an't please the gods, I'll hide my master from the flies, as deep

As these poor pickaxes 49 can dig; and when With wild wood-leaves and weeds I have strew'd his grave,

And on it said a century of


Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep, and sigh;
And, leaving so his service, follow you,

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 daisied plot we can,
And make him with our pikes and partizans
A grave: Come, arm him 50.-Boy, he is preferr'd

chronisms, to the fashionable novels of his time. Steevens cites some amusing instances from A Petite Palace of Pettie his Pleasure, 1576. But the absurdity was not confined to novels; the drama would afford numerous examples.

49 Meaning her fingers.

50 That is, 'take him up in your arms.' So in Fletcher's Two Noble Kinsmen :

4- Arm your prize,

I know you will not lose her.'

The prize was Emilia.

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.

SCENE III. A Room in Cymbeline 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:-Hea


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.


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

Hold me your loyal servant.

Good, my liege,

1 Lord.
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 will1, no doubt, be found.

1 Perhaps we should read, he'll no doubt be found.' But this omission of the personal pronoun was by no means uncommon in Shakspeare's age. There are several other instances in

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