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The boy disdains me.
He leaves me, scorns me: Briefly die their joys,
That place them on the truth of girls and boys.-
Why stands he so perplex'd?


What wouldst thou, boy?
I love thee more and more; think more and more
What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st on?

Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? thy friend?
Imo. He is a Roman; no more kin to me,
Than I to your highness; who, being born your
Am something nearer.

Wherefore ey'st him so?
Imo. I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please
To give me hearing.
Ay, with all my heart,
And lend my best attention. What's thy name?
Imo. Fidele, sir.
Thou art, my good youth, my page;
I'll be thy master: Walk with me; speak freely.
[CYMBELINE and IMOGEN converse apart.
Bel. Is not this boy revived from death?
One sand another
Not more resembles: That sweet rosy lad,
Who died, and was Fidele :-What think you?

Gui. The same dead thing alive.

Bel. Peace, peace! see further, he eyes us not;

Creatures may be alike: were't he, I am sure
He would have spoke to us.

But we saw him dead.
Bel. Be silent; let's see further.

It is my mistress:

Since she is living, let the time run on,
To good, or bad.

[CYMBELINE and IMOGEN come forward. Cym. Come, stand thou by our side; Make thy demand aloud.-Sir, [To IACH.] step you forth;

Give answer to this boy, and do it freely:
Or, by our greatness, and the grace of it,
Which is our honor, bitter torture shall
Winnow the truth from falsehood.-On, speak to


Imo. My boon is, that this gentleman may render Of whom he had this ring.


As it doth me) a nobler sir ne'er liv'd
'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my

Cym. All that belongs to this.

That paragon, thy daughte:
For whom my heart drops blood,and my false spirits
Quail to remember,-Give me leave; I faint.
Cym. My daughter! what of her! Renew thy

I had rather thou shouldst live while nature will,
Than die ere I hear more: strive, man, and speak.
Iach. Upon a time, (unhappy was the clock
That struck the hour!) it was in Rome, (accurs'd
The mansion where!) 'twas a feast, (0, would
Our viands had been poison'd! or, at least,
Those which I heav'd to head!) the good Posthú


(What should I say? he was too good to be
Where ill men were; and was the best of all
Amongst the rar'st of good ones,) sitting sadly,
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast
Of him that best could speak: for feature, laming
The shrine of Venus, or straight-pight Minerva
Postures beyond brief nature: for condition,
A shop of all the qualities that man
Loves women for; besides, that hook of wiving,
Fairness which strikes the eye :-


I stand on fire:

Come to the matter.

All too soon I shall, Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly.-This Posthúmus

(Most like a noble lord in love, and one
That had a royal lover) took his hint:
And, not dispraising whom we prais'd, (therein
He was as calm as virtue,) he began

His mistress' picture; which by his tongue being

And then a mind put in't, either our brags
Were crack'd of kitchen trulls, or his description
Prov'd us unspeaking sots.


Nay, nay, to the purpose
Iach. Your daughter's chastity-there it begins
He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams,
And she alone were cold: Whereat, I, wretch!
Made scruple of his praise; and wager'd with him
Pieces of gold, 'gainst this which then he wore
Upon his honor'd finger, to attain

In suit the place of his bed, and win this ring
By her's and mine adultery: he, true knight,
No lesser of her honor confident
Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring;
And would so, had it been a carbuncle
Of Phoebus' wheel, and might so safely, had it
Been all the worth of his car. Away to Britain
Post I in this design: Well may you, sir,
Remember me at court, where I was taught
Of your chaste daughter the wide difference
"Twixt amorous and villanous. Being thus quench'd
Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
'Gan in your duller Britain operate
Most vilely; for my 'vantage, excellent;
And, to be brief, my practice so prevail'd,
That I return'd with simular proof enough
To make the noble Leonatus mad,
By wounding his belief in her renown
With tokens thus, and thus; averring notes
Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet,
(0, cunning, how I got it!) nay, some marks
Of secret on her person, that he could not
But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd,
I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon,-
Methinks I see him now,-


What's that to him?
Cym. That diamond upon your finger, say,
How came it yours?
Iach. Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken that
Which, to be spoke, would torture thee.

Ay, so thou dost
[Coming forwara.
Italian fiend!-Ah me, most credulous fool,
Egregious murderer, thief, any thing
That's due to all the villains past, in being,
To come!-0, give me cord, or knife, or poison,
Some upright justicer! Thou, king, send out
For torturers ingenious: It is I
That all the abhorred things o' the earth amend,
By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,
That kill'd thy daughter:-villain-like, I lie
That caus'd a lesser villain than myself,
A sacrilegious thief, to do't: the temple


How! me?
Iach.I am glad to be constrain'd to utter that which
Torments me to conceal. By villany
I got this ring; 'twas Leonatus' jewel;

Whom thou didst banish; and (which more may Of virtue was she; yea, and she herself.3

grieve thee, Ready, dexterous.


2 Sink into dejection.

Not only the temple of virtue, but virtue he self

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It poison'd me. Cor. O gods!I left out one thing which the queen confess'd, Which must approve thee honest: If Pisanio Have, said she, given his mistress that confection Which I gave him for a cordial, she is serv'd As I would serve a rat.


What's this, Cornelius? Cor. The queen, sir, very oft importun'd me To temper poisons for her; still pretending The satisfaction of her knowledge only In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs, Of no esteem: I, dreading that her purpose Was of more danger, did compound for her A certain stuff, which being ta'en, would cease The present power of life; but in short time, All offices of nature should again Do their due functions.-Have you ta'en of it? Imo. Most like I did, for I was dead. Bel.

My boys,

There was our error.

This is sure, Fidele. Imo. Why did you throw your wedded lady from you? Think, that you are upon a rock; and now Throw me again. [Embracing him. Hang there like fruit, my soul,

Till the tree die!
How now, my flesh, my child?
What, mak'st thou me a dullard in this act?
Wilt thou not speak to me?

Your blessing, sir. [Kneeling.
Bel. Though you did love this youth, I blame

you not; You had a motive for't.

[To GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGUS. Cym. My tears that fall, Prove holy-water on thee! Imogen, Thy mother's dead.

Imo. I am sorry for't, my lord. Cym. O, she was naught; and 'long of her it was, That we meet here so strangely: But her son Is gone, we know not how nor where.


My lord, Now fear is from me, I'll speak truth. Lord Cloten, Upon my lady's missing, came to me With his sword drawn; foam'd at the mouth, and


If I discover'd not which way she was gone,
It was my instant death: By accident,
I had a feigned letter of my master's
Then in my pocket; which directed him
To see her on the mountains near to Milford;
Where, in a frenzy, in my master's garments,
Which he enforced from me, away he posts
With unchaste purpose, and with oath to violate
My lady's honor: what became of him,
I further know not.

Let me end the story:


I slew him there.

Mix, compound.


Marry, the gods forefend !5

I would not thy good deeds should from my lips
Pluck a hard sentence: pr'ythee, valiant youth,
Deny't again.

I have spoke it, and I did it.
Cym. He was a prince.

Gui. A most uncivil one: The wrongs he did me
Were nothing prince-like; for he did provoke me
With language that would make me spurn the sea,
If it could so roar to me: I cut off's head;
And am right glad, he is not standing here
To tell this tale of mine.


I am sorry for thee: By thine own tongue thou art condemn'd, and mut Endure our law: Thou art dead.


That headless man

I thought had been my lord.
Bind the offender,
And take him from our presence.

Stay, sir king:
This man is better than the man he slew,
As well descended as thyself; and hath
More of thee merited, than a band of Clotens
Had ever scar for.-Let his arms alone;

[To the Guard.

They were not born for bondage.
Why, old soldier,
Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for,
By tasting of our wrath? How of descent
As good as we? *

In that he spake too far.
Cym. And thou shalt die for't.
We will die all three:
But I will prove, that two of us are as good
As I have given out him.-My sons, I must,
For mine own part, unfold a dangerous speech,
Though, haply, well for you.

Your danger is


Gui. And our good his.

Have at it, then.By leave:-Thou hadst, great king, a subject, who Was call'd Belarius. Cym.

What of him? he is

A banish'd traitor.
He it is that hath
Assumed this age: indeed, a banish'd man;
I know not how, a traitor.
Take him hence;
The whole world shall not save him.

Not too hot
First pay me for the nursing of thy sons;
And let it be confiscate all, so soon
As I have receiv'd it.


Nursing of my sons?

Bel. I am too blunt and saucy: Here's my knee; Ere I arise, I will prefer my sons; Then, spare not the old father. Mighty sir, These two young gentlemen, that call me father, And think they are my sons, are none of mine; They are the issue of your loins, my liege, And blood of your begetting.


How! my issue'

Bel. So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan Am that Belarius whom you sometime banish'd Your pleasure was my mere offence,my punishmat Itself, and all my treason: that I suffer'd, Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes (For such, and so they are) these twenty years Have I train'd up: those arts they have, as I Could put into them; my breeding was, sir, as Your highness knows. Their nurse, Euriphile, Whom for the theft I wedded, stole these children Upon my banishment: I mov'd her to't: Having receiv'd the punishment before, For that which I did then: Beaten for loyalty Excited me to treason: Their dear loss, The more of you 'twas felt, the more it shaped Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir, Here are your sons again; and I must lose Two of the sweet'st companions in the world :— The benediction of these covering heavens Fall on their heads like dew! for they are worthy To inlay heaven with stars.


Thou weep'st, and speak'st. The service, that you three have done, is more Unlike than this thou tell'st: I lost my children If these be they, I know not how to wish A pan of worthier sons.

• Forbid.

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O, what am I A mother to the birth of three? Ne'er mother Rejoiced deliverance more:-Bless'd may you be, That, after this strange starting from your orbs, You may reign in them now!-O Imogen, Thou hast lost by this a kingdom.


No, my lord; I have got two worlds by't.-O my gentle brother, Have we thus met? O never say hereafter, But I am truest speaker: you call'd me brother, When I was but your sister; I you brothers, When you were so indeed.


Did you e'er meet?

Arv. Ay, my good lord. Gui. And at first meeting lov'd; Continued so, until we thought he died. Cor. By the queen's dram she swallow'd. Cym. O rare instinct! When shall I hear all through? This fierce abridge

ment Hath to it circumstantial branches, which Distinction should be rich in.Where? how liv'd you?

And when came you to serve our Roman captive? How parted with your brothers? how first met them?

Why fled you from the court? and whither? These,
And your three motives to the battle, with
I know not how much more, should be demanded;
And all the other by-dependencies,
From chance to chance; but nor the time, nor place,
Will serve long interrogatories. See,
Posthumus anchors upon Imogen;
And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brothers, me, her master; hitting
Each object with joy; the counterchange
Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground.
And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.-
Thou art my brother; So we'll hold thee ever.
Imo. You are my father too, and did relieve mc,
To see this gracious season.

All o'erjoyed,
Save these in bonds: let them be joyful too,
For they shall taste our comfort.

My good master,

I will yet do you service.


Happy be you!

Cym. The forlorn soldier, that so nobly fought, He would have well becom'd this place, and graced The thankings of a king.

Post. I am, sir, The soldier that did company these three In poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for The purpose I then follow'd;-That I was he, Speak, Iachimo: I had you down, and might Have made you finish.


I am down again:

[Kneeling. But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee, As then your force did. Take that life, 'beseech you, Which I so often owe: but, your ring first; And here the bracelet of the truest princess, That ever swore her faith.


Kneel not to me: The power that I have on you, is to spare you; The malice towards you, to forgive you: Live, And deal with others better.


Nobly doom'd: We'll learr, our freeness of a son-in-law; Pardon's the word to all.


You holp us, sir,

i. e. Which ought to be rendered distinct by an ample


As you did mean indeed to be our brother;
Joy'd are we, that you are.

Post. Your servant, princes.-Good my lord of

Call forth your soothsayer. As I slept, methought,
Great Jupiter, upon his eagle back.
Appear'd to me, with other sprightly shows?
Of mine own kindred: when I waked, I found
This label on my bosom; whose containing
Is so from sense and hardness, that I can
Make no collection of it; let him show
His skill in the construction.



Sooth. Here, my good lord. Luc. Read, and declare the meaning. Sooth. [Reads.] When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be lopp'd branches, which being dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then shall Post humus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate, and flourish in peace and plenty.

Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp;
The fit and apt construction of thy name,
Being Leo-natus, doth import so much :
The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,
Which we call mollis aër; and mollis aër
We term it mulier: which mulier I divine,
Is this most constant wife; who, even now,
Unknown to you, unsought, were clipp'ds about
Answering the letter of the oracle,
With this most tender air.


This hath some seeming Sooth. The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline, Personates thee: and thy lopp'd branches point Thy two sons forth: who, by Belarius stolen, For many years thought dead, are now reviv'd, Promises Britain peace and plenty. To the majestic cedar join'd; whose issue


Cym. My peace we will begin :-And, Caius Lucius, Although the victor, we submit to Cæsar, And to the Roman empire; promising To pay our wonted tribute, from the which We were dissuaded by our wicked queen; Whom heavens, in justice, (both on her and hers,} Have laid most heavy hand.

Sooth. The fingers of the powers above do tune The harmony of this peace. The vision Which I made known to Lucius, ere the stroke Of this yet scarce-cold battle, at this instant Is full accomplish'd: For the Roman eagle, From south to west on wing soaring aloft, Lessen'd herself, and in the beams o' the sun So vanish'd: which foreshow'd our princely eagle, The imperial Cæsar, should again unite His favor with the radiant Cymbeline, Which shines here in the west.

Cym. Laud we the gods. And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils From our bless'd altars! Publish we this peace To all our subjects. Set we forward: Let A Roman and a British ensign wave Friendly together: so through Lud's town march: And in the temple of great Jupiter Our peace we'll ratify; seal it with feasts.Set on there:-Never was a war did cease, Ere bloody hands were wash'd, with such a peace [Exeunt

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No wither'd witch shall here be seen,
No goblins lead their nightly crew:
The female fays shall haunt the green,
And dress thy grave with pearly dew.

The red-breast oft at evening hours
Shall kindly lend his little ait,
With hoary moss, and gather'd flowers,
To deck the ground where thou art luid

When howling winds, and beating rain,
In tempests shake the sylvan cell;
Or midst the chase on every plain,

The tender thought on thee shall dwell,

Each lonely scene shall thee restore; For thee the tear be duly shed: Belon'd, till life cou charm no more; And mourr'd, till pity's seid be dead.




SATURNINUS, Son to the late Emperor of Rome, and afterwards declared Emperor himself. BASSIANUS, Brother to Saturninus; in love with


TITUS ANDRONICUS, a noble Roman, General
against the Goths.
MARCUS ANDRONICUS, Tribune of the People;
and Brother to Titus.


Sons to Titus Andronicus.

Young LUCIUS, a Boy, Son to Lucius.
PUBLIUS, Son to Marcus the Tribune.

SCENE I-Rome. Before the Capitol. The Tomb of the Andronici appearing: the Tribunes and Senators aloft, as in the Senate.Enter, below, SATURNINUS and his Followers, on one side; and BASSIANUS and his Followers, on the other; with Drum and Colors.

Sat. Noble patricians, patrons of my right, Defend the justice of my cause with arms; And, countrymen, my loving followers, Plead my successive title' with your swords; I am his first-born son, that was the last That ware the imperial diadem of Rome; Then let my father's honors live in me, Nor wrong mine age with this indignity. Bas. Romans,-friends, followers, favorers my right,

i. e. My title to the succession.

SCENE, Rome; and the Country near it.


If ever Bassianus, Cæsar's son,

Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
Keep then this passage to the Capitol;
And suffer not dishonor to approach
The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,
To justice, continence, and nobility:
But let desert in pure election shine;
And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.
Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS aloft, with the Crown.
Marc. Princes that strive by factions, and by


EMILIUS, a noble Roman.


AARON, a Moor, beloved by Tamora.

Ambitiously for rule and empery,-
Know, that the people of Rome, for whom we stand
A special party, have by their common voice,
In election for the Roman empery,
Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Píus,

For many good and great deserts to Rome;
A nobler man, a braver warrior,
Lives not this day within the city walls:
He by the senate is accited2 home,
From weary wars against the barbarous Goths;

a Summoned.

Sons to Tamora

A Captain, Tribune, Messenger, and Clown; Ro


Goths, and Romans.

TAMORA, Queen of the Goths.

LAVINIA, Daughter to Titus Andronicus.
A Nurse, and a black Child.

Kinsmen of Titus, Senators, Tribunes, Officers,
Soldiers, and Attendants.

And now at last, laden with honor's spoils,
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms.
Let us entreat,-By honor of his name,
Whom, worthily, you would have now succeed,
And in the Capitol and senate's right,
Whom you pretend to honor and adore,-
That you withdraw you, and abate your strength:
of Dismiss your followers, and, as suitors should,
Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.
Sat. How fair the tribune speaks to calm my

That, with his sons, a terror to our foes,
Hath yok'd a nation strong, train'd up in arms.
Ten years are spent, since first he undertook
This cause of Rome, and chastised with arms
Our enemies' pride: Five times he hath return'd
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
In coffins from the field;

Bas. Marcus Andronicus, so do I affy In thy uprightness and integrity, And so I love and honor thee and thine, Thy nobler brother Titus and his sons, And her, to whom my thoughts are humbled all Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament, That I will here dismiss my loving friends; And to my fortunes, and the people's favor, Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd. [Exeunt the Followers of BASSIANTS. Sat. Friends, that have been thus forward in my right,

I thank you all, and here dismiss you all; And to the love and favor of my country Commit myself my person, and the cause. [Exeunt the Followers of SATURNINUS. Rome, be as just and gracious unto me, As I am confident and kind to thee.Open the gates, and let me in. Bas. Tribunes! and me, a poor competitor. [SAT. and BAS. go into the Capitol, and exeunt with Senators, MARCUS &

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