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Haste thee, for thy life.

[Exit Edgar. Edm. He hath commission from my wife and me To hang Cordelia in the prison, and To lay the blame upon her own despair, That she fordid herself. Alb. The gods defend her 1—Bear him hence a while. (Edmund Ij borne ~

Enter Lear, -uiith Cordelia dead in his arms; Edgar, Officer, and others. Lear. Howl, howl, howl, howl!—O, you are men of stones I

Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so
That heaven's vaults should crack.—She's gone for
ever!—

I know when one is dead, and when one lives;
She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;
If that her breath shall mist or stain the stone,
Why, then she lives,

Kent. Is this the promis'd end?

Edg. Or image of that horror?

Alb. Fall, and cease t

Lear. This feather stirs: she lives I if it be so. It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows That ever I have felt,

Kent [Kneeling. ] O, my good master 1

Lear. Pr'ythee, away.

Edg. , 'Tis noble Kent, your friend.

Lear. A plague upon you, murderers, traitors all 1 I might have sav'd her; now, she's gone for ever l— Cordelia, Cordelia! stay a little Ha 1 What is t thou say'st?—Her voice was ever soft, Gentle, and low; an excellent thing in woman.— I kill'd the slave that was a hanging thee.

Off. 'Tis true, my lord, he did?

Lear. Did I not, fellow t

I have seen the day, with my good biting faulchion
I wou!d have made them skip: I am oldnow.
And these same crosses spoil nie.~Who are you?
Mine eyes are not o' the best:—I'll tell you straight.

Kent. If fortune brag of two she lov'n and hated. One of them we l>ehold.

Lear. This is a dull sight:—are you not Kent?

Kent. The same.

Your servant Kent. Where is your servant CaiusT

Lear. He's a good fellow, I can lell you that; He'll strike, ana quickly too :—He's dead and rotten,

Kent. No. my good lord: I am the very man—

Lear. I'll see that straight.

Kent. That, from your first of difference and decay, Have follow'd your sad steps.

Lear. Yoa are welcome hither.

Kent Nor no man else.—All's cheerless, dark, and

deadly;

Your eldest daughters have fordone themselves,
And desperately are dead.
Lear. Ay, so I think.

Atb. He knows not what he says; and roin is it.
That we present us to him.
Edg. Very bootless.

Enter an Officer.
Off. Edmund is dead, my lord.
Alb. That's but a trifle h

Your lords, and noble friends, know our intent.
What comfort to this great decay may come,
Shall be applied : for us, we will resign.
During the life of this old majesty,
To him our absolute power :—{To Edgar and Kent]

you, to your rights;
With boot, and such addition as your honours
Have more than merited.—All friends shall taste
The wages of their virtue, and all foes
The cup of their deservings.—O, see, see I

Lmr. And my poor fool is hang'dl No, no, no life I
Why should a dog. a horse, a rat, have life.
And thou no breath at all? Thou 'It come no more,
Never, never, never, never, never I—
Piay you, undo this button: thank you, sir.—
Do you sec this? 1-ook on her,—look,—her lips,—
Look there, look there t— \Dies.
Edg. He faints !—My lord, my lordl—

Kent. Break, heart; I pr'ythee, break 1
Edg. Look up, my lord.

Kent. Vex not his ghost: O, let him pass 1 he hates him.

That would upon the rack of this tough world
Stretch him out longer.
Edg. He is gone indeed.

Kent. The wonder Is he hath endured so long:
He but usnrp'd his life.

Alb. Bear them from hence.—Our present business Is general woe. [To Kent and Edgar.] Friends of

my soul, you twain Rule in this realm, and the gorg'd state sustain.

Kent. I have a journey, sir, shortly to go; My master calls me, I must not say no.

Alb. The weight of this sad time we must obey; Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. The oldest hath borne most: we, that are young, Shall never see so much, nor live so long.

[Exeunt, with a dead march.

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r '!•. ACT I.

SCENE I.—Britain. The Garden of Cymbeline's
- Palace.
Enter two Gentlemen,
i Gen. You do not meet a man but frowns: our
bloods

No more obey the heavens, than our courtiers
Srill seem as does the king.

a Gen. 'But what's the matter?

i Gen. His daughter, and the heir of s kingdom, whom ^ He purpos'd 10 his wife's sole son, (a widowThat 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.

s Gen. None but the king I

1 Gen. He that hath lost her, too: so is the queen, That most desir*d the match: but not a courtier, Although 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 Gen. And why so?

1 Gen. He that hath miss'd ttie 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 ft"
In him that should compare. I do not think
So fair an outward, ana such stuff within.
Endows a man but he.

2 Gen: You speak him far,

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

His measure duly.

2 Gen.. What's his name, and birth f

i Gen. I cannot delve him to the root: his father Was called Sicilius. who did join his honour. Against the Romans, with Cassibelan; But had his titles by Tenantius, whom H;e serv'd with glory and admir"d success; So gain'd the sur-additioh, 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: 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 rate it is to do) most prais'd, most lov'd:
A sampfe to the youngest; tothe 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 Gen. I honour him,

Even out of ypur report. But, pray you, tell me,
Is she sole child to the king? a

1 Gen. . * His only child.
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 Gen. How long is this ago?

1 Gen. Some twenty years.

2 Gen. That a king's children should be so con-'

vey'd"!

So slackly guarded 1 and the search so slow.
That could not trace theml r ,

Gen. Hbwsoe'er 'tis strange.

Or that the negligence may well be Iaugh'd at, Vet is it true, sir. 2 Gen. I do well believe you. i Gen. We must forbear:. here comes the gentle

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SCENE ll.— TheSame.
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 gaoler shall deliver you the keys
That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
So soon as I can win the offended King,
I wilt 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. , r , Please your highness,

I will from hence to-day.

Queen. You know the peril:—

I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying
The panes of barr'd affections; though the king
Hath cliarg'd you should not speak together.

L£x0'Queen.

Imo. O
Dissembling courtesy I How fine this tyrant
Can tickle where she wounds 1—My dearest hu
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 j
And I shall here abide the hourly shot

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Of angry eyes; not comforted to live,
But that there is this jewel in the world.
That 1 may sec again.
Post. My queen t my

0 lady, weep no more, lest 1 give cause
To be suspected of more tenderness
Than doth become a man I 1 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 IH drink the words you send,
Though ink be made of galL

Re-enter O/ieen.
Queen. Be brief, I pray you

If the king come, I shall incur I know not How much of his displeasure.—\ Aside.] Yet 111 move 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 1

Imo. Nay, stay a little:
Were you but riding forth to air yourself,
Sulii parting were too petty. Look here, love }
This diamond w
But keep it till you woo 1
When Imogen is dead.

Post. How. how 1 another?—

You gentle gods, give me but this 1 have.
And sear up my embraccments from a next
With bonds of death 1—Remain, remain thou here

{Fatting on the ring.
While sense can keep it on? And, sweetest, fairest.
As I my poor self did exchange for you.
To your so infinite loss; so in our trifles

1 still win of you! for my sake, wear this;
It is a manacle of love; III place it
Upon this fairest prisoner*

\PHi ting a bracelet on her arm. Imo. O the Gods I

When shall we see again?

Enter Cymbeline and Lords. Post. Alack, the king!

Cym. Thou basest thing, avoid 1 hence, from my sight I

If after this command thou fraught the court
With thy unworthiness, thou d est: away I
Thou 'it poison to my blood.

Post. The gods protect you

And bless the good remainders of the court 1
I am gone. [Exit.

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

Cym. O disloyal thing,

That shouldst repair my youth ; thou heapest
A year's age on me I

Imo I beseech you, sir.

Harm not yourself with your vexation:
I am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare
Subdues all pangs, all Wats.

Cym. Past grace ? obedience t

Into. Past hope, and in despair; that way, past grace.

Cym. That mightst have had the sole son of my

queen I

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

Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; wouldst have made my throne A seat for baseness.

Imo. No; I rather added

A lustre to it

Cym. O thou vile one 1

Imo. Sir.
It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus:
You bred him as my play-fellow; and he Is
A man worthy any woman; overbuys me
Almost the sum he pays.

Cym. What, art thou mad?

Jmo. Almost, sir: heaven restore me 1—Would I were

A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus
Our neighbour shepherd's son I

_ Re-enUr Queen.

cj>m. Thou foolish thing 1—

They were again together: you have done
Not after our command. Away with her,
And pen her up.

Queen. Beseech your patience.—Peace.

Dear lady daughter, peace 1—Sweet sovereign.
Leave us to ourselves. and make yourself some
Out of your best advice. I comfort

Cym. Nay, let her anguish

A arop of blood a day; and, being aged.
Die of this folly 1 [Exeunt Cym. and Lords.

Queen. Fie I you must give way:

Enter Pisanio. Here is your servant—How now, sir! What news?

Pis. My lord your son drew on my master.

Queen, Ha I

No harm, I trust, is done?

Pis. There might have teen.

But that my master rather play'd than fought,
And had no help of anger: they were parted
By gentlemen at hand.

Queen. I am very glad on *t.

Imo. Your son 's my father's fnend; he takes his To draw upon an exile I—U brave sir I— [part.—

I would they were in Afric both together;
Myself by with a needle, that I might prick
The goer back.—Why came you from your master?

Pis. On his command : -he would not suffer me
To bring him to the haven: left these notes
Of what commands I should be subject to.
When it pleas'd you to employ me.

Queen. This hath been

Your faithful servant: I dare lay mine honour.
He will remain so.

Pis. I humbly thank your highness.

Queen. Pray, walk a while.

Imo. [ To Pis. J About some half hour hence,

I pray you, speak with me: you shall at least
Go see my lord abroad: for this time, leave me.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.—Britain. A Public Place.
Enter Cloten and two Lords.

1 Lord. Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt; the violence of action hath made you reek as a sacrifice: where air comes out, air comes in; there's none abroad so wholesome as that you vent.

Clo. If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it—Have I hurt him? [patience.

2 Lord. [Aside.] No faith; not so much as his

1 Lord. Hurt him? his body's a passable carcass, ifhehenot hurt: it is a thoroughfare for steel, if it be not hurt.

2 Lord. [Aside.] His steel was in debt; it wento* the backside the town.

Clo. The villain would not stand me. 2 Lord. [.-/....'Vj. No; but he tied forward stuL toward your face.

1 Lord. Stand you I You have land enough of your own: but he added to your having; gave you some ground.

2 Lord, [Aside], As many inches as you have oceans. Puppies I

Clo. I would they had not come between us.

2 Lord. [Aside, f So would I till you had measured how long a fool you were upon the ground.

Clo. And that she should love this fellow, and refuse me 1

2 Lord. [Aside.] If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damned.

1 Lord. Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not together: she's a good sign, but I 1 ive seen small reflection of her wit

2 Lord. [Aside.] She shines not upon fools, test the reflection should hurt her,

Clo. Come, 111 to my chamber. Would there had been some hurt done I

2 Lord. [Aside.] I wish not so; unless it had been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt,

Clo. You 'II go with us?

1 Lord. I'll attend your lordship. Clo. Nay, come, let's go together.

2 Lord. Well, my lord. [Exeunt, SCENE IV.—Britain. A Room in Cymbeline's

Palace. Enter Imogen and Pisanio. Imo. I would thou grew'st unto the shores of the haveii,

And question'dst every sail: if he should write,
And I not have it, 'twere a paper lost,
As offer'd mercy is. What was the last
That he spake to thee?

pis. It was, His queen, his queen I

Inio. Then wav'd his handkerchief?

Pis. And kissed it, madam.

Imo. Senseless linen 1 happier therein than 1! And that was all?

pis. No, madam ; for so long

As he could make me with his eye or car
Distinguish him from others, lie did kucp
The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief,
Still waving, as the fits and stirs of his mind
Could best express how slow his soul sail'd on,
How swift his ship.

Imo. Thou shouldst have made him

As little as a crow, or less, ere left
To after-eye him.

Pis. Madam, so I did.

Imo. I would have broke mine eye-strings; crack'd them, but To look upon him; till the diminution Of space had pointed him sharp as ray needle; Nay, follow'd him, till he had melted from The smallness of a gnat to air; and then Have turn d mine eye, and wept.—But, good Pisanio, "When shall we hear from hiiuf

Pis. Be assur'd, madam,

With his next vantage.

Imo. I did not take my leave of him. but had Most pretty things to say: ere I could tell him How I would think on him, at certain hours. Such thoughts and such; or'I could make him swear The slies of Italy should not betray Mine interest, and his honour; or have charg'd him, At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight, To encounter me with orisons, for then I am in heaven for him; or ere I could Give him that parting kiss, which I had set Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father, And, like the tyrannous breathing of the north. Shakes alt our buds from growing.

Enter a Lady.

Lcuty. The queen, madam,

Desires your highness' company.

Imo. Those things 1 bid you do, get them de> spatch'd.— I will attend the queen.

Pts. , Madam, I shall. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.—Rome. An Apartment in Philario's House.

Enter Philario, Iachimo, a Frenchman.

Iach. Believe it, sir, I have seen him in Britain: he was then of a crescent note; expected to prove s< worthy, a> since he hath been allowed the name of but I could then have looked on him without the help of admiration; though the catalogue of his endowments had been tabled by his side, and I to peruse him by items.

Phi. Yoa speak of him when he was less furnished, than now he is, with that which makes him both without and within.

French. I have seen him in France: we had very many there could behold the sun with as firm eyes as he.

iach. This matter of marrying his king's daughter (wherein he must be weighed rather by her value than his own) words him, 1 doubt not, a great deal from the matter.

French. And, then, his banishment,—

Iach. Ay, and the approbation of those, that weep this lamentable divorce, under her colours, are wonderfully to extend him; be it but to fortify her judgment, which else an easy battery might lay flat, for taking a beggar without less quality. But how comes it, he is to sojourn with you? How creeps acquaintance?

Phi. His father and 1 were soldiers together ; to whom I have been often bound for no less than my life. [Enter Posthumus.] Here comes the Briton; let him be so entertained amongst you as suits, with gentlemen of your knowing, to a stranger of his quality. I beseech you all, be better known to this gentleman; whom I commend to you. as a noble friend of mine: how worthy he is, I will leave tv

appear hereafter, rather than story him In his own

hearing.

French. Sir, we have known together in Orleans.

Post. Since when I have been debtor to you for courtesies, which 1 will be ever to pay, and yet pay still.

French. Sir, you o'er-rate my poor kindness: I was glad 1 did atone my countryman and you; it had been pity you should have been put together with so mortal a purpose, as then each bore, upon importance of so slight and trivial a nature. .

Post. By your pardon, sir, I was then a young traveller; rather shunned to go even with what I heard, than in my every action to be guided by others' experiences: but, upon my mended judgment, (if [ otfend not to say it is mended,) my quarrel was not altogether slight.

French. Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitrement of swords; and by such two, that would, by all likelihood, have confounded one the other, or have fallen both.

Iach. Can we, with manners, ask what was the difference?

French. Safely, I think: 'twas a contention in public, which may, without contradiction, suffer the report. It was much like an argument that fell out last night, where each of us fell in praise of our country mistresses; this gentleman at that time vouching (and upon warrant of bloody affirmation) his to be more fair, virtuous, wise, chaste, constantqualified, and less at temp table, than any the rarest of our ladies in France.

Iach. That lady is not now living; or this gentleman's opinion, by this, worn out.

Post. She holds her virtue still, and I my mind.

Iach. You must not so far prefer her 'fore ours of Italy.

Post. Being so far provoked as I was in France, I would abate her nothing; thougli I profess myself her adorer, not her friend.

Iach. As fair, and as good, (a kind of hand-in-hand comparison,) had been something too fair,.and too good, for any lady in Brittany. If she went before others I have seen, as that diamond of yours outlustres many I have beheld, I could not but believe she excelled many: but I have not seen the most precious diamond that is, nor you the lady.

Post. I praised her as I rated her; so do I my stone,

Iach. What do you esteem it at?

Post. More than the world enjoys.

Iach. Either your unparagoned mistress is dead, or she's out-priz'd by a trifle.

Post. You are mistaken: the one may be sold, or given, if there were wealth enough for the purchase, or merit for the gift: the other is not a thing for sale, and only the gift of the gods.

Iach. Which the gods have given you?

Post. Which, by their graces, I will keep.

Iach. You may wear ner in title yours: but, you know, strange fowl light upon neighbouring ponds. Your ring may be stolen, too: so, your brace of unprizeable estimations, the one is but frail, and the other casual; a cunning thief, or a that-way-accomplished courtier, would hazard the winning both of first and last.

Post. Your Italy contains none so accomplished a courtier to convince the honour of my mistress; if, in the holding or loss of that, you term her frail. 1 do nothing doubt, you have store of thieves; notwithstanding, 1 fear not my ring.

Phi. T-et us leave here, gentlemen.

Post. Sir, with all my heart. This worthy signior, I thank him, makes no stranger of ine , we are familiar at first.

Iach. With five times so much conversation, I should get ground of your fair mistress; make her go back, even to the yielding, had I admittance, and opportunity to friend.

Post. No. no.

Iach. I dare thereupon pawn the moiety of my estate to your ring; which, in my opinion, o'ervahies it something: but I make my wager rather against your confidence than her reputation: and, to bar your offence herein too, 1 durst attempt it against any lady in the world.

Post. You a great deal abused in too bold a persuasion; and 1 doubt not you Susluh what you 're wurthy ul'by your alumni,

a in your tongue ; you bear

lack. What'stharJ

Post. A repulse: though your attempt, as you call ft, deserves more ; a punishment, too.

Phi. GemLeinen, enough of this : it came in too suddenly; let it die as it was born, and, 1 pray you be better acquainted.

Inch. Would I had put my estate, and my neighbour's, on the approbation of what I have spoke 1

Post. What lady would you chouse to assail?

loch. Yours; whom in constancy, you think, stands Co safe. I will lay you ten thousand ducats to your ring, that, commend me to the court where your lady Is, with no more advantage than the opportunity of a second conference, and [will bring from thence that honour of hers, which you imagine so reserved.

Post. 1 will wage against your gold, gold to it: my ring I hold dear as my finger; 'tis part of it.

lack. You are a friend, and therein the wiser. If you buy ladies' flesh at a million a dram, you cannot preserve it from tainting; but I sec you have some religion in you, that you fear.

Post. This is but a custom i a graver purpose, I hope.

Inch. I am the master of my speeches; and would undergo what's spoken, I swear.

Post. Will you?—I shall but lend my diamond till your return:—let there be covenants drawn between us: my mistress exceeds in goodness the hugeness of your unworthy thinking: I dare you to this match: here's my ring. ■ Phi. 1 will have it no lay.

lack. By the gods, it is one.—If I bring you no sufficient testimony that I have enjoyed the dearest bodily part of your mistress, my ten thousand ducats are yours; so is your diamond too: if I come off, and leave her in such honour as you have trust in, she your Jewel, this your jewel, and my gold are yours;—provided I have your commendation for my more Free entertainment.

Post. 1 embrace these conditions: let us have articles betwixt us.—Only, thus far you shall answer: if you make your voyage upon her, and give nie directly to understand that you have prevail'd, I am no further your enemy: she is not worth our debate : if she remain unseuueed (you not making it appear otherwise), for your ill opinion, and the assault y.u have made to her chastity, you shall answer me with your sword.

lack. Your band ; a covenant: wc will have these things set down by lawful counsel, and straight away for Britain, lest the bargain should catch cold, and starve: 1 will fetch my gold, and have our two wagers recorded.

Post. Agreed.

[Exeunt Posthumus and Iachimo. French. Will this hold, think youT Phi. Signior Iachimo will not from it. Pray, let us follow 'em. [ Exeunt.

SCENE VI.—Britain. A Room in Cymbelme's Palace.

Enter Queen, Ladies, and Cornelms

Queen. Whiles yet the dew s on ground, gather those flowers: Make haste: who has the note of them?

1 Lady. I, madam.

Queen. Despatch. I Exeunt Ladies.

Now, master doctor, have you brought those drugs?

Cor. Pleaseth your highness, ay: here they are, madam: f'Presenting a smalt box. But I beseech your grace, without offence, (My conscience bids me ask.) wherefore you have Commanded of me these most poisonous compounds, Which are the movers of a languishing death: But, though slow, deadly?

Queen I wonder, doctor.

Thou ask'st me such a question. Have I not been
Thy pupil Idng? Hast thou not learn'd ine how
To make perfumes? distil? preserve? yea, so
That our great king himself doth woo ine oft
For my confections? Having thus Car proceeded,
UJntess thou think'st in; dev' ish 1 is't not meet
That I did amplify my judgment in
Other conclusions? I will vry the forces
Ol' these thy compounds on such creatures as
We count not worth the hanging (but none human,)
To try the vigour of them, and apply
Allaymeiilb to their act; and by t.u
Their several virtues and effects.

1 Cor. Your highness

Shall from this practice but make hard your heart:

Besides, the seeing these effects will be
Both noisome and infectious.
Queen. O, content thee.—

Enter Pisanio.
[At .rV.; Here comes a flattering rascal; upon him
Will 1 hrst work: he '& for his master.
And enemy to my son.—How now, Pisanio I—
Doctor, your service for this time is ended;
Take your own wayv

Cor. [Aside.] I do suspect you, madam;

But you shall do no harm.
Queen. \ To Pisanio.] Hark thee, a word.
Cor. [Aside.] I do not tike her. She doth think
she has

Strange lingering poisons: I do know her spirit.
And will not trust one of her malice with
A drug of such damn'd nature. Those she has
WQ1 stupify and dull the sense a while;
Which hrst, perchance, she'll prove on cats and dogs.
Then afterwards up higher: but there is
No danger in what show of death it makes.
More than the locking up the spirits a time,
To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool'd
With a most false effect ; and I the truer.
So to be false with her.

Queen. No further service, doctor.

Until 1 send for thee.
Cor. I humbly take my leave.

[Exit.

Queen. Weeps she still, say'st thouf Dost thou think, in time She will not quench, and let instructions enter Where folly now possesses? Do thou work: When thou shall bring me word she loves my sou, I'll tell thee on the instant thcu art then As great as is thy master : greater; for His fortunes all he speechless, and his name Is at last gasp : return he cannot, nor Continue where he is: to shift his being. Is to exchange one misery with another; And every day that comes-comes to decay A day's work in him. What shalt thou expect, To be dependcron a thing that leans,— Who cannot be new-built, nor has no friends.

( The Queen drops the box: Pisanio
takes it K/.
So much as but to prop him ?—Thou tak'st up
Thou knows't not what: but take it for thy labour:
It is a thing I made, which hath the king
Five times redeem'd from death: I do not know
What is more cordial:—nay, I pr'ythee, take it;
It is an earnest of a further good
That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how
The case stands with her; do t as from thyself.
Think what a chance thou changest on; but think
Thou hast thy mistress still,—to boot, my son.
Who shall take notice of thee: I'll move the king
To any shape of thy preferment, such
As thou 'It desire; and then myself, I chiefly.
That set thee on to this desert, am bound
To load thy merit richly. Call my women:
Think on my words.— [Exit Pisania.

A sly and constant knave;
Not to be shakM: the agent for his master;
And the remembrancer of her, to hold
The handfast to her lord.—1 have given him that.
Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her
Of ieigers for her sweet; and which she after.
Except she bend her humour, shall be assur'd
To taste of too.—

Re-enter Y\sari\^ftnd Ladies.

So, so;—well done, weD done:
The violets, cowslips, and the primroses.
Bear to my closet.—Fare thee well, Pisanio:
Think on my words.

[Exeunt Queen and Ladies. Pis. And shall do:

But when to my good lord I prove untrue,
I'll choke myself: there's all I'll do for you. [Exit.

SCENE VU.—Another Room in the Palace,
Enter Imogen.
Imo. A father cruel, and a step-dame false;
A foolish suitor to a wedded lady,

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