Scar. Ile halt after.

Exeunt.

Alarum. Enter Anthony againe in a March. Scarrus, with others.

Ant. We haue beate him to his Campe: Runne one Before, & let the Queen know of our guests: to morrow Before the Sun shall see's, wee'l spill the blood That ha's to day escap'd. I thanke you all, For doughty handed are you, and haue fought Not as you seru'd the Cause, but as't had beene Each mans like mine: you haue shewne all Hectors. Enter the Citty, clip your Wiues, your Friends, Tell them your feats, whil'st they with ioyfull teares Wash the congealement from your wounds, and kisse The Honour'd-gashes whole. Enter Cleopatra.

Giue me thy hand, To this great Faiery, Ile commend thy acts, Make her thankes blesse thee. Oh thou day o'th' world, Chaine mine arm'd necke, leape thou, Attyre and all Through proofe of Harnesse to my heart, and there Ride on the pants triumphing

Cleo. Lord of Lords. Oh infinite Vertue, comm'st thou smiling from The worlds great snare vncaught

Ant. Mine Nightingale, We haue beate them to their Beds. What Gyrle, though gray Do somthing mingle with our yonger brown, yet ha we A Braine that nourishes our Nerues, and can Get gole for gole of youth. Behold this man, Commend vnto his Lippes thy fauouring hand, Kisse it my Warriour: He hath fought to day, As if a God in hate of Mankinde, had Destroyed in such a shape

Cleo. Ile giue thee Friend An Armour all of Gold: it was a Kings

Ant. He has deseru'd it, were it Carbunkled Like holy Phoebus Carre. Giue me thy hand, Through Alexandria make a iolly March, Beare our hackt Targets, like the men that owe them. Had our great Pallace the capacity To Campe this hoast, we all would sup together, And drinke Carowses to the next dayes Fate Which promises Royall perill, Trumpetters With brazen dinne blast you the Citties eare, Make mingle with our ratling Tabourines, That heauen and earth may strike their sounds together, Applauding our approach.

Exeunt.

Enter a Centerie, and his Company, Enobarbus followes.

Cent. If we be not releeu'd within this houre, We must returne to'th' Court of Guard: the night Is shiny, and they say, we shall embattaile By'th' second houre i'th' Morne

1.Watch. This last day was a shrew'd one too's

Enob. Oh beare me witnesse night

2 What man is this? 1 Stand close, and list him

Enob. Be witnesse to me (O thou blessed Moone) When men reuolted shall vpon Record Beare hatefull memory: poore Enobarbus did Before thy face repent

Cent. Enobarbus? 2 Peace: Hearke further

Enob. Oh Soueraigne Mistris of true Melancholly, The poysonous dampe of night dispunge vpon me, That Life, a very Rebell to my will, May hang no longer on me. Throw my heart Against the flint and hardnesse of my fault, Which being dried with greefe, will breake to powder, And finish all foule thoughts. Oh Anthony, Nobler then my reuolt is Infamous, Forgiue me in thine owne particular, But let the world ranke me in Register A Master leauer, and a fugitiue: Oh Anthony! Oh Anthony! 1 Let's speake to him

Cent. Let's heare him, for the things he speakes May concerne Caesar

2 Let's do so; but he sleepes

Cent. Swoonds rather, for so bad a Prayer as his Was neuer yet for sleepe

1 Go we to him

2 Awake sir, awake, speake to vs

1 Heare you sir? Cent. The hand of death hath raught him.

Drummes afarre off.

Hearke the Drummes demurely wake the sleepers: Let vs beare him to'th' Court of Guard: he is of note: Our houre is fully out

2 Come on then, he may recouer yet.

Exeunt.

Enter Anthony and Scarrus, with their Army.

Ant. Their preparation is to day by Sea, We please them not by Land

Scar. For both, my Lord

Ant. I would they'ld fight i'th' Fire, or i'th' Ayre, Wee'ld fight there too. But this it is, our Foote Vpon the hilles adioyning to the Citty Shall stay with vs. Order for Sea is giuen, They haue put forth the Hauen: Where their appointment we may best discouer, And looke on their endeuour.

Exeunt.

Enter Caesar, and his Army.

Caes But being charg'd, we will be still by Land, Which as I tak't we shall, for his best force Is forth to Man his Gallies. To the Vales, And hold our best aduantage.

Exeunt.

Alarum afarre off, as at a Sea-fight. Enter Anthony, and Scarrus.

Ant. Yet they are not ioyn'd: Where yon'd Pine does stand, I shall discouer all. Ile bring thee word straight, how 'tis like to go. Enter.

Scar. Swallowes haue built In Cleopatra's Sailes their nests. The Auguries Say, they know not, they cannot tell, looke grimly, And dare not speake their knowledge. Anthony, Is valiant, and deiected, and by starts His fretted Fortunes giue him hope and feare Of what he has, and has not. Enter Anthony.

Ant. All is lost: This fowle Egyptian hath betrayed me: My Fleete hath yeelded to the Foe, and yonder They cast their Caps vp, and Carowse together Like Friends long lost. Triple-turn'd Whore, 'tis thou Hast sold me to this Nouice, and my heart Makes onely Warres on thee. Bid them all flye: For when I am reueng'd vpon my Charme, I haue done all. Bid them all flye, be gone. Oh Sunne, thy vprise shall I see no more, Fortune, and Anthony part heere, euen heere Do we shake hands? All come to this? The hearts That pannelled me at heeles, to whom I gaue Their wishes, do dis-Candie, melt their sweets On blossoming Caesar: And this Pine is barkt, That ouer-top'd them all. Betray'd I am. Oh this false Soule of Egypt! this graue Charme, Whose eye beck'd forth my Wars, & cal'd them home: Whose Bosome was my Crownet, my chiefe end, Like a right Gypsie, hath at fast and loose Beguil'd me, to the very heart of losse. What Eros, Eros? Enter Cleopatra.

Ah, thou Spell! Auaunt

Cleo. Why is my Lord enrag'd against his Loue? Ant. Vanish, or I shall giue thee thy deseruing, And blemish Caesars Triumph. Let him take thee, And hoist thee vp to the shouting Plebeians, Follow his Chariot, like the greatest spot Of all thy Sex. Most Monster-like be shewne For poor'st Diminitiues, for Dolts, and let Patient Octauia, plough thy visage vp With her prepared nailes.

exit Cleopatra.

'Tis well th'art gone, If it be well to liue. But better 'twere Thou fell'st into my furie, for one death Might haue preuented many. Eros, hoa! The shirt of Nessus is vpon me, teach me Alcides, thou mine Ancestor, thy rage. Let me lodge Licas on the hornes o'th' Moone, And with those hands that graspt the heauiest Club, Subdue my worthiest selfe: The Witch shall die, To the young Roman Boy she hath sold me, and I fall Vnder this plot: She dyes for't. Eros hoa? Enter.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, Mardian.

Cleo. Helpe me my women: Oh hee's more mad Then Telamon for his Shield, the Boare of Thessaly Was neuer so imbost

Char. To'th' Monument, there locke your selfe, And send him word you are dead: The Soule and Body riue not more in parting, Then greatnesse going off

Cleo. To'th' Monument: Mardian, go tell him I haue slaine my selfe: Say, that the last I spoke was Anthony, And word it (prythee) pitteously. Hence Mardian, And bring me how he takes my death to'th' Monument.

Exeunt.

Enter Anthony, and Eros.

Ant. Eros, thou yet behold'st me? Eros. I Noble Lord

Ant. Sometime we see a clowd that's Dragonish, A vapour sometime, like a Beare, or Lyon, A toward Cittadell, a pendant Rocke, A forked Mountaine, or blew Promontorie With Trees vpon't, that nodde vnto the world, And mocke our eyes with Ayre. Thou hast seene these Signes, They are blacke Vespers Pageants

Eros. I my Lord

Ant. That which is now a Horse, euen with a thoght the Racke dislimes, and makes it indistinct As water is in water

Eros. It does my Lord

Ant. My good Knaue Eros, now thy Captaine is Euen such a body: Heere I am Anthony, Yet cannot hold this visible shape (my Knaue) I made these warres for Egypt, and the Queene, Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine: Which whil'st it was mine, had annext vntoo't A Million moe, (now lost:) shee Eros has Packt Cards with Caesars, and false plaid my Glory Vnto an Enemies triumph. Nay, weepe not gentle Eros, there is left vs Our selues to end our selues. Enter Mardian.

Oh thy vilde Lady, she has rob'd me of my Sword

Mar. No Anthony, My Mistris lou'd thee, and her Fortunes mingled with thine intirely

Ant. Hence sawcy Eunuch peace, she hath betraid me, And shall dye the death

Mar. Death of one person, can be paide but once, And that she ha's discharg'd. What thou would'st do Is done vnto thy hand: the last she spake Was Anthony, most Noble Anthony. Then in the midd'st a tearing grone did breake The name of Anthony: it was diuided Betweene her heart, and lips: she tendred life Thy name so buried in her

Ant. Dead then? Mar. Dead

Ant. Vnarme Eros, the long dayes taske is done, And we must sleepe: That thou depart'st hence safe Does pay thy labour richly: Go.

exit Mardian.

Off, plucke off, The seuen-fold shield of Aiax cannot keepe The battery from my heart. Oh cleaue my sides. Heart, once be stronger then thy Continent, Cracke thy fraile Case. Apace Eros, apace; No more a Soldier: bruised peeces go, You haue bin Nobly borne. From me awhile.

exit Eros

I will o're-take thee Cleopatra, and Weepe for my pardon. So it must be, for now All length is Torture: since the Torch is out, Lye downe and stray no farther. Now all labour Marres what it does: yea, very force entangles It selfe with strength: Seale then and all is done. Eros? I come my Queene. Eros? Stay for me, Where Soules do couch on Flowers, wee'l hand in hand, And with our sprightly Port make the Ghostes gaze: Dido, and her Aeneas shall want Troopes, And all the haunt be ours. Come Eros, Eros. Enter Eros.

Eros. What would my Lord? Ant. Since Cleopatra dyed, I haue liu'd in such dishonour, that the Gods Detest my basenesse. I, that with my Sword, Quarter'd the World, and o're greene Neptunes backe With Ships, made Cities; condemne my selfe, to lacke The Courage of a Woman, lesse Noble minde Then she which by her death, our Caesar telles I am Conqueror of my selfe. Thou art sworne Eros, That when the exigent should come, which now Is come indeed: When I should see behinde me Th' ineuitable prosecution of disgrace and horror, That on my command, thou then would'st kill me. Doo't, the time is come: Thou strik'st not me, 'Tis Caesar thou defeat'st. Put colour in thy Cheeke

Eros. The Gods with-hold me, Shall I do that which all the Parthian Darts, (Though Enemy) lost ayme, and could not

Ant. Eros, Would'st thou be window'd in great Rome, and see Thy Master thus with pleacht Armes, bending downe His corrigible necke, his face subdu'de To penetratiue shame; whil'st the wheel'd seate Of Fortunate Caesar drawne before him, branded His Basenesse that ensued

Eros. I would not see't

Ant. Come then: for with a wound I must be cur'd. Draw that thy honest Sword, which thou hast worne Most vsefull for thy Country

Eros. Oh sir, pardon me

Ant. When I did make thee free, swor'st y not then To do this when I bad thee? Do it at once, Or thy precedent Seruices are all But accidents vnpurpos'd. Draw, and come

Eros. Turne from me then that Noble countenance, Wherein the worship of the whole world lyes

Ant. Loe thee

Eros. My sword is drawne

Ant. Then let it do at once The thing why thou hast drawne it

Eros. My deere Master, My Captaine, and my Emperor. Let me say Before I strike this bloody stroke, Farwell

Ant. 'Tis said man, and farewell

Eros. Farewell great Chiefe. Shall I strike now? Ant. Now Eros.

Killes himselfe.

Eros. Why there then: Thus I do escape the sorrow of Anthonies death

Ant. Thrice-Nobler then my selfe, Thou teachest me: Oh valiant Eros, what I should, and thou could'st not, my Queene and Eros Haue by their braue instruction got vpon me A Noblenesse in Record. But I will bee A Bride-groome in my death, and run intoo't As to a Louers bed. Come then, and Eros, Thy Master dies thy Scholler; to do thus I learnt of thee. How, not dead? Not dead? The Guard, how? Oh dispatch me. Enter a Guard.

1.Guard. What's the noise? Ant. I haue done my worke ill Friends: Oh make an end of what I haue begun

2 The Starre is falne

1 And time is at his Period

All. Alas, and woe

Ant. Let him that loues me, strike me dead

1 Not I

2 Nor I

3 Nor any one.

Exeunt.

Decretus. Thy death and fortunes bid thy folowers fly This sword but shewne to Caesar with this tydings, Shall enter me with him. Enter Diomedes.

Dio. Where's Anthony? Decre. There Diomed there

Diom. Liues he: wilt thou not answer man? Ant. Art thou there Diomed? Draw thy sword, and giue mee, Suffising strokes for death

Diom. Most absolute Lord: My Mistris Cleopatra sent me to thee

Ant. When did shee send thee? Diom. Now my Lord

Anth. Where is she? Diom. Lockt in her Monument: she had a Prophesying feare Of what hath come to passe: for when she saw (Which neuer shall be found) you did suspect She had dispos'd with Caesar, and that your rage Would not be purg'd, she sent you word she was dead: But fearing since how it might worke, hath sent Me to proclaime the truth, and I am come I dread, too late

Ant. Too late good Diomed: call my Guard I prythee

Dio. What hoa: the Emperors Guard, The Guard, what hoa? Come, your Lord calles. Enter 4. or 5. of the Guard of Anthony.

Ant. Beare me good Friends where Cleopatra bides, 'Tis the last seruice that I shall command you

1 Woe, woe are we sir, you may not liue to weare All your true Followers out

All. Most heauy day

Ant. Nay good my Fellowes, do not please sharp fate To grace it with your sorrowes. Bid that welcome Which comes to punish vs, and we punish it Seeming to beare it lightly. Take me vp, I haue led you oft, carry me now good Friends, And haue my thankes for all.

Exit bearing Anthony

Enter Cleopatra, and her Maides aloft, with Charmian & Iras.

Cleo. Oh Charmian, I will neuer go from hence

Char. Be comforted deere Madam

Cleo. No, I will not: All strange and terrible euents are welcome, But comforts we dispise; our size of sorrow Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great As that which makes it. Enter Diomed.

How now? is he dead? Diom. His death's vpon him, but not dead. Looke out o'th other side your Monument, His Guard haue brought him thither. Enter Anthony, and the Guard.

Cleo. Oh Sunne, Burne the great Sphere thou mou'st in, darkling stand The varrying shore o'th' world. O Antony, Antony, Antony Helpe Charmian, helpe Iras helpe: helpe Friends Below, let's draw him hither

Ant. Peace, Not Caesars Valour hath o'rethrowne Anthony, But Anthonie's hath Triumpht on it selfe

Cleo. So it should be, That none but Anthony should conquer Anthony, But woe 'tis so

Ant. I am dying Egypt, dying; onely I heere importune death a-while, vntill Of many thousand kisses, the poore last I lay vpon thy lippes

Cleo. I dare not Deere, Deere my Lord pardon: I dare not, Least I be taken: nor th' Imperious shew Of the full-Fortun'd Caesar, euer shall Be brooch'd with me, if Knife, Drugges, Serpents haue Edge, sting, or operation. I am safe: Your Wife Octauia, with her modest eyes, And still Conclusion, shall acquire no Honour Demuring vpon me: but come, come Anthony, Helpe me my women, we must draw thee vp: Assist good Friends

Ant. Oh quicke, or I am gone

Cleo. Heere's sport indeede: How heauy weighes my Lord? Our strength is all gone into heauinesse, That makes the waight. Had I great Iuno's power, The strong wing'd Mercury should fetch thee vp, And set thee by Ioues side. Yet come a little, Wishers were euer Fooles. Oh come, come, come,

They heaue Anthony aloft to Cleopatra.

And welcome, welcome. Dye when thou hast liu'd, Quicken with kissing: had my lippes that power, Thus would I weare them out

All. A heauy sight

Ant. I am dying Egypt, dying. Giue me some Wine, and let me speake a little

Cleo. No, let me speake, and let me rayle so hye, That the false Huswife Fortune, breake her Wheele, Prouok'd by my offence

Ant. One word (sweet Queene) Of Caesar seeke your Honour, with your safety. Oh

Cleo. They do not go together

Ant. Gentle heare me, None about Caesar trust, but Proculeius

Cleo. My Resolution, and my hands, Ile trust, None about Caesar

Ant. The miserable change now at my end, Lament nor sorrow at: but please your thoughts In feeding them with those my former Fortunes Wherein I liued. The greatest Prince o'th' world, The Noblest: and do now not basely dye, Not Cowardly put off my Helmet to My Countreyman. A Roman, by a Roman Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my Spirit is going, I can no more

Cleo. Noblest of men, woo't dye? Hast thou no care of me, shall I abide In this dull world, which in thy absence is No better then a Stye? Oh see my women: The Crowne o'th' earth doth melt. My Lord? Oh wither'd is the Garland of the Warre, The Souldiers pole is falne: young Boyes and Gyrles Are leuell now with men: The oddes is gone, And there is nothing left remarkeable Beneath the visiting Moone

Char. Oh quietnesse, Lady

Iras. She's dead too, our Soueraigne

Char. Lady

Iras. Madam

Char. Oh Madam, Madam, Madam

Iras. Royall Egypt: Empresse

Char. Peace, peace, Iras

Cleo. No more but in a Woman, and commanded By such poore passion, as the Maid that Milkes, And doe's the meanest chares. It were for me, To throw my Scepter at the iniurious Gods, To tell them that this World did equall theyrs, Till they had stolne our Iewell. All's but naught: Patience is sortish, and impatience does Become a Dogge that's mad: Then is it sinne, To rush into the secret house of death, Ere death dare come to vs. How do you Women? What, what good cheere? Why how now Charmian? My Noble Gyrles? Ah Women, women! Looke Our Lampe is spent, it's out. Good sirs, take heart, Wee'l bury him: And then, what's braue, what's Noble, Let's doo't after the high Roman fashion, And make death proud to take vs. Come, away, This case of that huge Spirit now is cold. Ah Women, Women! Come, we haue no Friend But Resolution, and the breefest end.

Exeunt., bearing of Anthonies body.

Enter Caesar, Agrippa, Dollabella, Menas, with his Counsell of Warre.

Caesar. Go to him Dollabella, bid him yeeld, Being so frustrate, tell him, He mockes the pawses that he makes

Dol. Caesar, I shall. Enter Decretas with the sword of Anthony.

Caes Wherefore is that? And what art thou that dar'st Appeare thus to vs? Dec. I am call'd Decretas, Marke Anthony I seru'd, who best was worthie Best to be seru'd: whil'st he stood vp, and spoke He was my Master, and I wore my life To spend vpon his haters. If thou please To take me to thee, as I was to him, Ile be to Caesar: if y pleasest not, I yeild thee vp my life

Caesar. What is't thou say'st? Dec. I say (Oh Caesar) Anthony is dead

Caesar. The breaking of so great a thing, should make A greater cracke. The round World Should haue shooke Lyons into ciuill streets, And Cittizens to their dennes. The death of Anthony Is not a single doome, in the name lay A moity of the world

Dec. He is dead Caesar, Not by a publike minister of Iustice, Nor by a hyred Knife, but that selfe-hand Which writ his Honor in the Acts it did, Hath with the Courage which the heart did lend it, Splitted the heart. This is his Sword, I robb'd his wound of it: behold it stain'd With his most Noble blood

Caes Looke you sad Friends, The Gods rebuke me, but it is Tydings To wash the eyes of Kings

Dol. And strange it is, That Nature must compell vs to lament Our most persisted deeds

Mec. His taints and Honours, wag'd equal with him

Dola. A Rarer spirit neuer Did steere humanity: but you Gods will giue vs Some faults to make vs men. Caesar is touch'd

Mec. When such a spacious Mirror's set before him, He needes must see him selfe

Caesar. Oh Anthony, I haue followed thee to this, but we do launch Diseases in our Bodies. I must perforce Haue shewne to thee such a declining day, Or looke on thine: we could not stall together, In the whole world. But yet let me lament With teares as Soueraigne as the blood of hearts, That thou my Brother, my Competitor, In top of all designe; my Mate in Empire, Friend and Companion in the front of Warre, The Arme of mine owne Body, and the Heart Where mine his thoughts did kindle; that our Starres Vnreconciliable, should diuide our equalnesse to this. Heare me good Friends, But I will tell you at some meeter Season, The businesse of this man lookes out of him, Wee'l heare him what he sayes. Enter an aegyptian.

Whence are you? aegyp. A poore Egyptian yet, the Queen my mistris Confin'd in all, she has her Monument Of thy intents, desires, instruction, That she preparedly may frame her selfe To'th' way shee's forc'd too

Caesar. Bid her haue good heart, She soone shall know of vs, by some of ours, How honourable, and how kindely Wee Determine for her. For Caesar cannot leaue to be vngentle aegypt. So the Gods preserue thee. Enter.

Caes Come hither Proculeius. Go and say We purpose her no shame: giue her what comforts The quality of her passion shall require; Least in her greatnesse, by some mortall stroke She do defeate vs. For her life in Rome, Would be eternall in our Triumph: Go, And with your speediest bring vs what she sayes, And how you finde of her

Pro. Caesar I shall.

Exit Proculeius.

Caes Gallus, go you along: where's Dolabella, to second Proculeius? All. Dolabella

Caes Let him alone: for I remember now How hee's imployd: he shall in time be ready. Go with me to my Tent, where you shall see How hardly I was drawne into this Warre, How calme and gentle I proceeded still In all my Writings. Go with me, and see What I can shew in this.

Exeunt.

Enter Cleopatra, Charmian, Iras, and Mardian.

Cleo. My desolation does begin to make A better life: Tis paltry to be Caesar: Not being Fortune, hee's but Fortunes knaue, A minister of her will: and it is great To do that thing that ends all other deeds, Which shackles accedents, and bolts vp change; Which sleepes, and neuer pallates more the dung, The beggers Nurse, and Caesars. Enter Proculeius.

Pro. Caesar sends greeting to the Queene of Egypt, And bids thee study on what faire demands Thou mean'st to haue him grant thee

Cleo. What's thy name? Pro. My name is Proculeius

Cleo. Anthony Did tell me of you, bad me trust you, but I do not greatly care to be deceiu'd That haue no vse for trusting. If your Master Would haue a Queene his begger, you must tell him, That Maiesty to keepe decorum, must No lesse begge then a Kingdome: If he please To giue me conquer'd Egypt for my Sonne, He giues me so much of mine owne, as I Will kneele to him with thankes

Pro. Be of good cheere: Y'are falne into a Princely hand, feare nothing, Make your full reference freely to my Lord, Who is so full of Grace, that it flowes ouer On all that neede. Let me report to him Your sweet dependancie, and you shall finde A Conqueror that will pray in ayde for kindnesse, Where he for grace is kneel'd too

Cleo. Pray you tell him, I am his Fortunes Vassall, and I send him The Greatnesse he has got. I hourely learne A Doctrine of Obedience, and would gladly Looke him i'th' Face

Pro. This Ile report (deere Lady) Haue comfort, for I know your plight is pittied Of him that caus'd it

Pro. You see how easily she may be surpriz'd: Guard her till Caesar come

Iras. Royall Queene

Char. Oh Cleopatra, thou art taken Queene

Cleo. Quicke, quicke, good hands

Pro. Hold worthy Lady, hold: Doe not your selfe such wrong, who are in this Releeu'd, but not betraid

Cleo. What of death too that rids our dogs of languish Pro. Cleopatra, do not abuse my Masters bounty, by Th' vndoing of your selfe: Let the World see His Noblenesse well acted, which your death Will neuer let come forth

Cleo. Where art thou Death? Come hither come; Come, come, and take a Queene Worth many Babes and Beggers

Pro. Oh temperance Lady

Cleo. Sir, I will eate no meate, Ile not drinke sir, If idle talke will once be necessary Ile not sleepe neither. This mortall house Ile ruine, Do Caesar what he can. Know sir, that I Will not waite pinnion'd at your Masters Court, Nor once be chastic'd with the sober eye Of dull Octauia. Shall they hoyst me vp, And shew me to the showting Varlotarie Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt. Be gentle graue vnto me, rather on Nylus mudde Lay me starke-nak'd, and let the water-Flies Blow me into abhorring; rather make My Countries high pyramides my Gibbet, And hang me vp in Chaines

Pro. You do extend These thoughts of horror further then you shall Finde cause in Caesar. Enter Dolabella.

Dol. Proculeius, What thou hast done, thy Master Caesar knowes, And he hath sent for thee: for the Queene, Ile take her to my Guard

Pro. So Dolabella, It shall content me best: Be gentle to her, To Caesar I will speake, what you shall please, If you'l imploy me to him.

Exit Proculeius

Cleo. Say, I would dye

Dol. Most Noble Empresse, you haue heard of me

Cleo. I cannot tell

Dol. Assuredly you know me

Cleo. No matter sir, what I haue heard or knowne: You laugh when Boyes or Women tell their Dreames, Is't not your tricke? Dol. I vnderstand not, Madam

Cleo. I dreampt there was an Emperor Anthony. Oh such another sleepe, that I might see But such another man

Dol. If it might please ye

Cleo. His face was as the Heau'ns, and therein stucke A Sunne and Moone, which kept their course, & lighted The little o'th' earth

Dol. Most Soueraigne Creature

Cleo. His legges bestrid the Ocean, his rear'd arme Crested the world: His voyce was propertied As all the tuned Spheres, and that to Friends: But when he meant to quaile, and shake the Orbe, He was as ratling Thunder. For his Bounty, There was no winter in't. An Anthony it was, That grew the more by reaping: His delights Were Dolphin-like, they shew'd his backe aboue The Element they liu'd in: In his Liuery Walk'd Crownes and Crownets: Realms & Islands were As plates dropt from his pocket

Dol. Cleopatra

Cleo. Thinke you there was, or might be such a man As this I dreampt of? Dol. Gentle Madam, no

Cleo. You Lye vp to the hearing of the Gods: But if there be, not euer were one such It's past the size of dreaming: Nature wants stuffe To vie strange formes with fancie, yet t' imagine An Anthony were Natures peece, 'gainst Fancie, Condemning shadowes quite

Dol. Heare me, good Madam: Your losse is as your selfe, great; and you beare it As answering to the waight, would I might neuer Ore-take pursu'de successe: But I do feele By the rebound of yours, a greefe that suites My very heart at roote

Cleo. I thanke you sir: Know you what Caesar meanes to do with me? Dol. I am loath to tell you what, I would you knew

Cleo. Nay pray you sir

Dol. Though he be Honourable

Cleo. Hee'l leade me then in Triumph

Dol. Madam he will, I know't.

Flourish.

Enter Proculeius, Caesar, Gallus, Mecenas, and others of his Traine.

All. Make way there Caesar

Caes Which is the Queene of Egypt

Dol. It is the Emperor Madam.

Cleo. kneeles.

Caesar. Arise, you shall not kneele: I pray you rise, rise Egypt

Cleo. Sir, the Gods will haue it thus, My Master and my Lord I must obey, Caesar. Take to you no hard thoughts, The Record of what iniuries you did vs, Though written in our flesh, we shall remember As things but done by chance

Cleo. Sole Sir o'th' World, I cannot proiect mine owne cause so well To make it cleare, but do confesse I haue Bene laden with like frailties, which before Haue often sham'd our Sex

Caesar. Cleopatra know, We will extenuate rather then inforce: If you apply your selfe to our intents, Which towards you are most gentle, you shall finde A benefit in this change: but if you seeke To lay on me a Cruelty, by taking Anthonies course, you shall bereaue your selfe Of my good purposes, and put your children To that destruction which Ile guard them from, If thereon you relye. Ile take my leaue

Cleo. And may through all the world: tis yours, & we your Scutcheons, and your signes of Conquest shall Hang in what place you please. Here my good Lord

Caesar. You shall aduise me in all for Cleopatra

Cleo. This is the breefe: of Money, Plate, & Iewels I am possest of, 'tis exactly valewed, Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus? Seleu. Heere Madam

Cleo. This is my Treasurer, let him speake (my Lord) Vpon his perill, that I haue reseru'd To my selfe nothing. Speake the truth Seleucus

Seleu. Madam, I had rather seele my lippes, Then to my perill speake that which is not

Cleo. What haue I kept backe

Sel. Enough to purchase what you haue made known Caesar. Nay blush not Cleopatra, I approue Your Wisedome in the deede

Cleo. See Caesar: Oh behold, How pompe is followed: Mine will now be yours, And should we shift estates, yours would be mine. The ingratitude of this Seleucus, does Euen make me wilde. Oh Slaue, of no more trust Then loue that's hyr'd? What goest thou backe, y shalt Go backe I warrant thee: but Ile catch thine eyes Though they had wings. Slaue, Soule-lesse, Villain, Dog. O rarely base! Caesar. Good Queene, let vs intreat you

Cleo. O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this, That thou vouchsafing heere to visit me, Doing the Honour of thy Lordlinesse To one so meeke, that mine owne Seruant should Parcell the summe of my disgraces, by Addition of his Enuy. Say (good Caesar) That I some Lady trifles haue reseru'd, Immoment toyes, things of such Dignitie As we greet moderne Friends withall, and say Some Nobler token I haue kept apart For Liuia and Octauia, to induce Their mediation, must I be vnfolded With one that I haue bred: The Gods! it smites me Beneath the fall I haue. Prythee go hence, Or I shall shew the Cynders of my spirits Through th' Ashes of my chance: Wer't thou a man, Thou would'st haue mercy on me

Caesar. Forbeare Seleucus

Cleo. Be it known, that we the greatest are mis-thoght For things that others do: and when we fall, We answer others merits, in our name Are therefore to be pittied

Caesar. Cleopatra, Not what you haue reseru'd, nor what acknowledg'd Put we i'th' Roll of Conquest: still bee't yours, Bestow it at your pleasure, and beleeue Caesars no Merchant, to make prize with you Of things that Merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd, Make not your thoughts your prisons: No deere Queen, For we intend so to dispose you, as Your selfe shall giue vs counsell: Feede, and sleepe: Our care and pitty is so much vpon you, That we remaine your Friend, and so adieu

Cleo. My Master, and my Lord

Caesar. Not so: Adieu.

Flourish. Exeunt Caesar, and his Traine.

Cleo. He words me Gyrles, he words me, That I should not be Noble to my selfe. But hearke thee Charmian

Iras. Finish good Lady, the bright day is done, And we are for the darke

Cleo. Hye thee againe, I haue spoke already, and it is prouided, Go put it to the haste

Char. Madam, I will. Enter Dolabella.

Dol. Where's the Queene? Char. Behold sir

Cleo. Dolabella

Dol. Madam, as thereto sworne, by your command (Which my loue makes Religion to obey) I tell you this: Caesar through Syria Intends his iourney, and within three dayes, You with your Children will he send before, Make your best vse of this. I haue perform'd Your pleasure, and my promise

Cleo. Dolabella, I shall remaine your debter

Dol. I your Seruant: Adieu good Queene, I must attend on Caesar.

Exit

Cleo. Farewell, and thankes. Now Iras, what think'st thou? Thou, an Egyptian Puppet shall be shewne In Rome aswell as I: Mechanicke Slaues With greazie Aprons, Rules, and Hammers shall Vplift vs to the view. In their thicke breathes, Ranke of grosse dyet, shall we be enclowded, And forc'd to drinke their vapour

Iras. The Gods forbid

Cleo. Nay, 'tis most certaine Iras: sawcie Lictors Will catch at vs like Strumpets, and scald Rimers Ballads vs out a Tune. The quicke Comedians Extemporally will stage vs, and present Our Alexandrian Reuels: Anthony Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see Some squeaking Cleopatra Boy my greatnesse I'th' posture of a Whore

Iras. O the good Gods! Cleo. Nay that's certaine

Iras. Ile neuer see't? for I am sure mine Nailes Are stronger then mine eyes

Cleo. Why that's the way to foole their preparation, And to conquer their most absurd intents. Enter Charmian.

Now Charmian. Shew me my Women like a Queene: Go fetch My best Attyres. I am againe for Cidrus, To meete Marke Anthony. Sirra Iras, go (Now Noble Charmian, wee'l dispatch indeede,) And when thou hast done this chare, Ile giue thee leaue To play till Doomesday: bring our Crowne, and all.

A noise within.

Wherefore's this noise? Enter a Guardsman.

Gards. Heere is a rurall Fellow, That will not be deny'de your Highnesse presence, He brings you Figges

Cleo. Let him come in.

Exit Guardsman.

What poore an Instrument May do a Noble deede: he brings me liberty: My Resolution's plac'd, and I haue nothing Of woman in me: Now from head to foote I am Marble constant: now the fleeting Moone No Planet is of mine. Enter Guardsman, and Clowne.

Guards. This is the man

Cleo. Auoid, and leaue him.

Exit Guardsman.

Hast thou the pretty worme of Nylus there, That killes and paines not? Clow. Truly I haue him: but I would not be the partie that should desire you to touch him, for his byting is immortall: those that doe dye of it, doe seldome or neuer recouer

Cleo. Remember'st thou any that haue dyed on't? Clow. Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of them no longer then yesterday, a very honest woman, but something giuen to lye, as a woman should not do, but in the way of honesty, how she dyed of the byting of it, what paine she felt: Truely, she makes a verie good report o'th' worme: but he that wil beleeue all that they say, shall neuer be saued by halfe that they do: but this is most falliable, the Worme's an odde Worme

Cleo. Get thee hence, farewell

Clow. I wish you all ioy of the Worme

Cleo. Farewell

Clow. You must thinke this (looke you,) that the Worme will do his kinde

Cleo. I, I, farewell

Clow. Looke you, the Worme is not to bee trusted, but in the keeping of wise people: for indeede, there is no goodnesse in the Worme

Cleo. Take thou no care, it shall be heeded

Clow. Very good: giue it nothing I pray you, for it is not worth the feeding

Cleo. Will it eate me? Clow. You must not think I am so simple, but I know the diuell himselfe will not eate a woman: I know, that a woman is a dish for the Gods, if the diuell dresse her not. But truly, these same whorson diuels doe the Gods great harme in their women: for in euery tenne that they make, the diuels marre fiue

Cleo. Well, get thee gone, farewell

Clow. Yes forsooth: I wish you ioy o'th' worm.

Exit

Cleo. Giue me my Robe, put on my Crowne, I haue Immortall longings in me. Now no more The iuyce of Egypts Grape shall moyst this lip. Yare, yare, good Iras; quicke: Me thinkes I heare Anthony call: I see him rowse himselfe To praise my Noble Act. I heare him mock The lucke of Caesar, which the Gods giue men To excuse their after wrath. Husband, I come: Now to that name, my Courage proue my Title. I am Fire, and Ayre; my other Elements I giue to baser life. So, haue you done? Come then, and take the last warmth of my Lippes. Farewell kinde Charmian, Iras, long farewell. Haue I the Aspicke in my lippes? Dost fall? If thou, and Nature can so gently part, The stroke of death is as a Louers pinch, Which hurts, and is desir'd. Dost thou lye still? If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world, It is not worth leaue-taking

Char. Dissolue thicke clowd, & Raine, that I may say The Gods themselues do weepe

Cleo. This proues me base: If she first meete the Curled Anthony, Hee'l make demand of her, and spend that kisse Which is my heauen to haue. Come thou mortal wretch, With thy sharpe teeth this knot intrinsicate, Of life at once vntye: Poore venomous Foole, Be angry, and dispatch. Oh could'st thou speake, That I might heare thee call great Caesar Asse, vnpolicied

Char. Oh Easterne Starre

Cleo. Peace, peace: Dost thou not see my Baby at my breast, That suckes the Nurse asleepe

Char. O breake! O breake! Cleo. As sweet as Balme, as soft as Ayre, as gentle. O Anthony! Nay I will take thee too. What should I stay-

Dyes.

Char. In this wilde World? So fare thee well: Now boast thee Death, in thy possession lyes A Lasse vnparalell'd. Downie Windowes cloze, And golden Phoebus, neuer be beheld Of eyes againe so Royall: your Crownes away, Ile mend it, and then play- Enter the Guard rustling in; and Dolabella.

1.Guard. Where's the Queene? Char. Speake softly, wake her not

1 Caesar hath sent Char. Too slow a Messenger. Oh come apace, dispatch, I partly feele thee

1 Approach hoa, All's not well: Caesar's beguild

2 There's Dolabella sent from Caesar: call him

1 What worke is heere Charmian? Is this well done? Char. It is well done, and fitting for a Princesse Descended of so many Royall Kings. Ah Souldier.

Charmian dyes.

Enter Dolabella.

Dol. How goes it heere? 2.Guard. All dead

Dol. Caesar, thy thoughts Touch their effects in this: Thy selfe art comming To see perform'd the dreaded Act which thou So sought'st to hinder. Enter Caesar and all his Traine, marching.

All. A way there, a way for Caesar

Dol. Oh sir, you are too sure an Augurer: That you did feare, is done

Caesar. Brauest at the last, She leuell'd at our purposes, and being Royall Tooke her owne way: the manner of their deaths, I do not see them bleede

Dol. Who was last with them? 1.Guard. A simple Countryman, that broght hir Figs: This was his Basket

Caesar. Poyson'd then

1.Guard. Oh Caesar: This Charmian liu'd but now, she stood and spake: I found her trimming vp the Diadem; On her dead Mistris tremblingly she stood, And on the sodaine dropt

Caesar. Oh Noble weakenesse: If they had swallow'd poyson, 'twould appeare By externall swelling: but she lookes like sleepe, As she would catch another Anthony In her strong toyle of Grace

Dol. Heere on her brest, There is a vent of Bloud, and something blowne, The like is on her Arme

1.Guard. This is an Aspickes traile, And these Figge-leaues haue slime vpon them, such As th' Aspicke leaues vpon the Caues of Nyle

Caesar. Most probable That so she dyed: for her Physitian tels mee She hath pursu'de Conclusions infinite Of easie wayes to dye. Take vp her bed, And beare her Women from the Monument, She shall be buried by her Anthony. No Graue vpon the earth shall clip in it A payre so famous: high euents as these Strike those that make them: and their Story is No lesse in pitty, then his Glory which Brought them to be lamented. Our Army shall In solemne shew, attend this Funerall, And then to Rome. Come Dolabella, see High Order, in this great Solemnity.

Exeunt. omnes

FINIS. THE TRAGEDIE OF Anthonie, and Cleopatra.

The Tragedie of Cymbeline

Actus Primus. Scoena Prima.

Enter two Gentlemen.

1.Gent. You do not meet a man but Frownes. Our bloods no more obey the Heauens Then our Courtiers: Still seeme, as do's the Kings

2 Gent. But what's the matter? 1. His daughter, and the heire of's kingdome (whom He purpos'd to his wiues sole Sonne, a Widdow That late he married) hath referr'd her selfe Vnto a poore, but worthy Gentleman. She's wedded, Her Husband banish'd; she imprison'd, all Is outward sorrow, though I thinke the King Be touch'd at very heart

2 None but the King? 1 He that hath lost her too: so is the Queene, That most desir'd the Match. But not a Courtier, Although they weare their faces to the bent Of the Kings lookes, hath a heart that is not Glad at the thing they scowle at

2 And why so? 1 He that hath miss'd the Princesse, is a thing Too bad, for bad report: and he that hath her, (I meane, that married her, alacke good man, And therefore banish'd) is a Creature, such, As to seeke through the Regions of the Earth For one, his like; there would be something failing In him, that should compare. I do not thinke, So faire an Outward, and such stuffe Within Endowes a man, but hee

2 You speake him farre

1 I do extend him (Sir) within himselfe, Crush him together, rather then vnfold His measure duly

2 What's his name, and Birth? 1 I cannot delue him to the roote: His Father Was call'd Sicillius, who did ioyne his Honor Against the Romanes, with Cassibulan, But had his Titles by Tenantius, whom He seru'd with Glory, and admir'd Successe: So gain'd the Sur-addition, Leonatus. And had (besides this Gentleman in question) Two other Sonnes, who in the Warres o'th' time Dy'de with their Swords in hand. For which, their Father Then old, and fond of yssue, tooke such sorrow That he quit Being; and his gentle Lady Bigge of this Gentleman (our Theame) deceast As he was borne. The King he takes the Babe To his protection, cals him Posthumus Leonatus, Breedes him, and makes him of his Bed-chamber, Puts to him all the Learnings that his time Could make him the receiuer of, which he tooke As we do ayre, fast as 'twas ministred, And in's Spring, became a Haruest: Liu'd in Court (Which rare it is to do) most prais'd, most lou'd, A sample to the yongest: to th' more Mature, A glasse that feated them: and to the grauer, A Childe that guided Dotards. To his Mistris, (For whom he now is banish'd) her owne price Proclaimes how she esteem'd him; and his Vertue By her electio[n] may be truly read, what kind of man he is

2 I honor him, euen out of your report. But pray you tell me, is she sole childe to'th' King? 1 His onely childe: He had two Sonnes (if this be worth your hearing, Marke it) the eldest of them, at three yeares old I'th' swathing cloathes, the other from their Nursery Were stolne, and to this houre, no ghesse in knowledge Which way they went

2 How long is this ago? 1 Some twenty yeares

2 That a Kings Children should be so conuey'd, So slackely guarded, and the search so slow That could not trace them

1 Howsoere, 'tis strange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at: Yet is it true Sir

2 I do well beleeue you

1 We must forbeare. Heere comes the Gentleman, The Queene, and Princesse.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter the Queene, Posthumus, and Imogen.

Qu. No, be assur'd you shall not finde me (Daughter) After the slander of most Step-Mothers, Euill-ey'd vnto you. You're my Prisoner, but Your Gaoler shall deliuer you the keyes That locke vp your restraint. For you Posthumus, So soone as I can win th' offended King, I will be knowne your Aduocate: marry yet The fire of Rage is in him, and 'twere good You lean'd vnto his Sentence, with what patience Your wisedome may informe you

Post. 'Please your Highnesse, I will from hence to day

Qu. You know the perill: Ile fetch a turne about the Garden, pittying The pangs of barr'd Affections, though the King Hath charg'd you should not speake together.

Exit

Imo. O dissembling Curtesie! How fine this Tyrant Can tickle where she wounds? My deerest Husband, I something feare my Fathers wrath, but nothing (Alwayes reseru'd my holy duty) what His rage can do on me. You must be gone, And I shall heere abide the hourely shot Of angry eyes: not comforted to liue, But that there is this Iewell in the world, That I may see againe

Post. My Queene, my Mistris: O Lady, weepe no more, least I giue cause To be suspected of more tendernesse Then doth become a man. I will remaine The loyall'st husband, that did ere plight troth. My residence in Rome, at one Filorio's, Who, to my Father was a Friend, to me Knowne but by Letter; thither write (my Queene) And with mine eyes, Ile drinke the words you send, Though Inke be made of Gall. Enter Queene.

Qu. Be briefe, I pray you: If the King come, I shall incurre, I know not How much of his displeasure: yet Ile moue him To walke this way: I neuer do him wrong, But he do's buy my Iniuries, to be Friends: Payes deere for my offences

Post. Should we be taking leaue As long a terme as yet we haue to liue, The loathnesse to depart, would grow: Adieu

Imo. Nay, stay a little: Were you but riding forth to ayre your selfe, Such parting were too petty. Looke heere (Loue) This Diamond was my Mothers; take it (Heart) But keepe it till you woo another Wife, When Imogen is dead

Post. How, how? Another? You gentle Gods, giue me but this I haue, And seare vp my embracements from a next, With bonds of death. Remaine, remaine thou heere, While sense can keepe it on: And sweetest, fairest, As I (my poore selfe) did exchange for you To your so infinite losse; so in our trifles I still winne of you. For my sake weare this, It is a Manacle of Loue, Ile place it Vpon this fayrest Prisoner

Imo. O the Gods! When shall we see againe? Enter Cymbeline, and Lords.

Post. Alacke, the King

Cym. Thou basest thing, auoyd hence, from my sight: If after this command thou fraught the Court With thy vnworthinesse, thou dyest. Away, Thou'rt poyson to my blood

Post. The Gods protect you, And blesse the good Remainders of the Court: I am gone

Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death More sharpe then this is

Cym. O disloyall thing, That should'st repayre my youth, thou heap'st A yeares age on mee

Imo. I beseech you Sir, Harme not your selfe with your vexation, I am senselesse of your Wrath; a Touch more rare Subdues all pangs, all feares

Cym. Past Grace? Obedience? Imo. Past hope, and in dispaire, that way past Grace

Cym. That might'st haue had The sole Sonne of my Queene

Imo. O blessed, that I might not: I chose an Eagle, And did auoyd a Puttocke

Cym. Thou took'st a Begger, would'st haue made my Throne, a Seate for basenesse

Imo. No, I rather added a lustre to it

Cym. O thou vilde one! Imo. Sir, It is your fault that I haue lou'd Posthumus: You bred him as my Play-fellow, and he is A man, worth any woman: Ouer-buyes mee Almost the summe he payes

Cym. What? art thou mad? Imo. Almost Sir: Heauen restore me: would I were A Neat-heards Daughter, and my Leonatus Our Neighbour-Shepheards Sonne. Enter Queene.

Cym. Thou foolish thing; They were againe together: you haue done Not after our command. Away with her, And pen her vp

Qu. Beseech your patience: Peace Deere Lady daughter, peace. Sweet Soueraigne, Leaue vs to our selues, and make your self some comfort Out of your best aduice

Cym. Nay, let her languish A drop of blood a day, and being aged Dye of this Folly. Enter.

Enter Pisanio.

Qu. Fye, you must giue way: Heere is your Seruant. How now Sir? What newes? Pisa. My Lord your Sonne, drew on my Master

Qu. Hah? No harme I trust is done? Pisa. There might haue beene, But that my Master rather plaid, then fought, And had no helpe of Anger: they were parted By Gentlemen, at hand

Qu. I am very glad on't

Imo. Your Son's my Fathers friend, he takes his part To draw vpon an Exile. O braue Sir, I would they were in Affricke both together, My selfe by with a Needle, that I might pricke The goer backe. Why came you from your Master? Pisa. On his command: he would not suffer mee To bring him to the Hauen: left these Notes Of what commands I should be subiect too, When't pleas'd you to employ me

Qu. This hath beene Your faithfull Seruant: I dare lay mine Honour He will remaine so

Pisa. I humbly thanke your Highnesse

Qu. Pray walke a-while

Imo. About some halfe houre hence, Pray you speake with me; You shall (at least) go see my Lord aboord. For this time leaue me.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Clotten, and two Lords.

1. Sir, I would aduise you to shift a Shirt; the Violence of Action hath made you reek as a Sacrifice: where ayre comes out, ayre comes in: There's none abroad so wholesome as that you vent

Clot. If my Shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Haue I hurt him? 2 No faith: not so much as his patience

1 Hurt him? His bodie's a passable Carkasse if he bee not hurt. It is a through-fare for Steele if it be not hurt

2 His Steele was in debt, it went o'th' Backe-side the Towne

Clot. The Villaine would not stand me

2 No, but he fled forward still, toward your face

1 Stand you? you haue Land enough of your owne: But he added to your hauing, gaue you some ground

2 As many Inches, as you haue Oceans (Puppies.) Clot. I would they had not come betweene vs

2 So would I, till you had measur'd how long a Foole you were vpon the ground

Clot. And that shee should loue this Fellow, and refuse mee

2 If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damn'd

1 Sir, as I told you alwayes: her Beauty & her Braine go not together. Shee's a good signe, but I haue seene small reflection of her wit

2 She shines not vpon Fooles, least the reflection Should hurt her

Clot. Come, Ile to my Chamber: would there had beene some hurt done

2 I wish not so, vnlesse it had bin the fall of an Asse, which is no great hurt

Clot. You'l go with vs? 1 Ile attend your Lordship

Clot. Nay come, let's go together

2 Well my Lord.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Imogen, and Pisanio.

Imo. I would thou grew'st vnto the shores o'th' Hauen, And questioned'st euery Saile: if he should write, And I not haue it, 'twere a Paper lost As offer'd mercy is: What was the last That he spake to thee? Pisa. It was his Queene, his Queene

Imo. Then wau'd his Handkerchiefe? Pisa. And kist it, Madam

Imo. Senselesse Linnen, happier therein then I: And that was all? Pisa. No Madam: for so long As he could make me with his eye, or eare, Distinguish him from others, he did keepe The Decke, with Gloue, or Hat, or Handkerchife, Still wauing, as the fits and stirres of's mind Could best expresse how slow his Soule sayl'd on, How swift his Ship

Imo. Thou should'st haue made him As little as a Crow, or lesse, ere left To after-eye him

Pisa. Madam, so I did

Imo. I would haue broke mine eye-strings; Crack'd them, but to looke vpon him, till the diminution Of space, had pointed him sharpe as my Needle: Nay, followed him, till he had melted from The smalnesse of a Gnat, to ayre: and then Haue turn'd mine eye, and wept. But good Pisanio, When shall we heare from him

Pisa. Be assur'd Madam, With his next vantage

Imo. I did not take my leaue of him, but had Most pretty things to say: Ere I could tell him How I would thinke on him at certaine houres, Such thoughts, and such: Or I could make him sweare, The Shees of Italy should not betray Mine Interest, and his Honour: or haue charg'd him At the sixt houre of Morne, at Noone, at Midnight, T' encounter me with Orisons, for then I am in Heauen for him: Or ere I could, Giue him that parting kisse, which I had set Betwixt two charming words, comes in my Father, And like the Tyrannous breathing of the North, Shakes all our buddes from growing. Enter a Lady.

La. The Queene (Madam) Desires your Highnesse Company

Imo. Those things I bid you do, get them dispatch'd, I will attend the Queene

Pisa. Madam, I shall.

Exeunt.

Scena Quinta.

Enter Philario, Iachimo: a Frenchman, a Dutchman, and a Spaniard.

Iach. Beleeue it Sir, I haue seene him in Britaine; hee was then of a Cressent note, expected to proue so woorthy, as since he hath beene allowed the name of. But I could then haue look'd on him, without the help of Admiration, though the Catalogue of his endowments had bin tabled by his side, and I to peruse him by Items

Phil. You speake of him when he was lesse furnish'd, then now hee is, with that which makes him both without, and within

French. I haue seene him in France: wee had very many there, could behold the Sunne, with as firme eyes as hee

Iach. This matter of marrying his Kings Daughter, wherein he must be weighed rather by her valew, then his owne, words him (I doubt not) a great deale from the matter

French. And then his banishment

Iach. I, and the approbation of those that weepe this lamentable diuorce vnder her colours, are wonderfully to extend him, be it but to fortifie her iudgement, which else an easie battery might lay flat, for taking a Begger without lesse quality. But how comes it, he is to soiourne with you? How creepes acquaintance? Phil. His Father and I were Souldiers together, to whom I haue bin often bound for no lesse then my life. Enter Posthumus.

Heere comes the Britaine. Let him be so entertained among'st you, as suites with Gentlemen of your knowing, to a Stranger of his quality. I beseech you all be better knowne to this Gentleman, whom I commend to you, as a Noble Friend of mine. How Worthy he is, I will leaue to appeare hereafter, rather then story him in his owne hearing

French. Sir, we haue knowne togither in Orleance

Post. Since when, I haue bin debtor to you for courtesies, which I will be euer to pay, and yet pay still

French. Sir, you o're-rate my poore kindnesse, I was glad I did attone my Countryman and you: it had beene pitty you should haue beene put together, with so mortall a purpose, as then each bore, vpon importance of so slight and triuiall a nature

Post. By your pardon Sir, I was then a young Traueller, rather shun'd to go euen with what I heard, then in my euery action to be guided by others experiences: but vpon my mended iudgement (if I offend to say it is mended) my Quarrell was not altogether slight

French. Faith yes, to be put to the arbiterment of Swords, and by such two, that would by all likelyhood haue confounded one the other, or haue falne both

Iach. Can we with manners, aske what was the difference? French. Safely, I thinke, 'twas a contention in publicke, which may (without contradiction) suffer the report. It was much like an argument that fell out last night, where each of vs fell in praise of our Country-Mistresses. This Gentleman, at that time vouching (and vpon warrant of bloody affirmation) his to be more Faire, Vertuous, Wise, Chaste, Constant, Qualified, and lesse attemptible then any, the rarest of our Ladies in Fraunce

Iach. That Lady is not now liuing; or this Gentlemans opinion by this, worne out

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

Iach. You must not so farre preferre her, 'fore ours of Italy

Posth. Being so farre prouok'd as I was in France: I would abate her nothing, though I professe my selfe her Adorer, not her Friend

Iach. As faire, and as good: a kind of hand in hand comparison, had beene something too faire, and too good for any Lady in Britanie; if she went before others. I haue seene as that Diamond of yours out-lusters many I haue beheld, I could not beleeue she excelled many: but I haue not seene the most pretious Diamond that is, nor you the Lady

Post. I prais'd her, as I rated her: so do I my Stone

Iach. What do you esteeme it at? Post. More then the world enioyes

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

Post. You are mistaken: the one may be solde or giuen, or if there were wealth enough for the purchases, or merite for the guift. The other is not a thing for sale, and onely the guift of the Gods

Iach. Which the Gods haue giuen you? Post. Which by their Graces I will keepe

Iach. You may weare her in title yours: but you know strange Fowle light vpon neighbouring Ponds. Your Ring may be stolne too, so your brace of vnprizeable Estimations, the one is but fraile, and the other Casuall; A cunning Thiefe, or a (that way) accomplish'd Courtier, would hazzard the winning both of first and last

Post. Your Italy, containes none so accomplish'd a Courtier to conuince the Honour of my Mistris: if in the holding or losse of that, you terme her fraile, I do nothing doubt you haue store of Theeues, notwithstanding I feare not my Ring

Phil. Let vs leaue heere, Gentlemen? Post. Sir, with all my heart. This worthy Signior I thanke him, makes no stranger of me, we are familiar at first

Iach. With fiue times so much conuersation, I should get ground of your faire Mistris; make her go backe, euen to the yeilding, had I admittance, and opportunitie to friend

Post. No, no

Iach. I dare thereupon pawne the moytie of my Estate, to your Ring, which in my opinion o're-values it something: but I make my wager rather against your Confidence, then her Reputation. And to barre your offence heerein to, I durst attempt it against any Lady in the world

Post. You are a great deale abus'd in too bold a perswasion, and I doubt not you sustaine what y'are worthy of, by your Attempt

Iach. What's that? Posth. A Repulse though your Attempt (as you call it) deserue more; a punishment too

Phi. Gentlemen enough of this, it came in too sodainely, let it dye as it was borne, and I pray you be better acquainted

Iach. Would I had put my Estate, and my Neighbors on th' approbation of what I haue spoke

Post. What Lady would you chuse to assaile? Iach. Yours, whom in constancie you thinke stands so safe. I will lay you ten thousands Duckets to your Ring, that commend me to the Court where your Lady is, with no more aduantage then the opportunitie of a second conference, and I will bring from thence, that Honor of hers, which you imagine so reseru'd

Posthmus. I will wage against your Gold, Gold to it: My Ring I holde deere as my finger, 'tis part of it

Iach. You are a Friend, and there in the wiser: if you buy Ladies flesh at a Million a Dram, you cannot preserue it from tainting; but I see you haue some Religion in you, that you feare

Posthu. This is but a custome in your tongue: you beare a grauer purpose I hope

Iach. I am the Master of my speeches, and would vnder-go what's spoken, I sweare

Posthu. Will you? I shall but lend my Diamond till your returne: let there be Couenants drawne between's. My Mistris exceedes in goodnesse, the hugenesse of your vnworthy thinking. I dare you to this match: heere's my Ring

Phil. I will haue it no lay

Iach. By the Gods it is one: if I bring you no sufficient testimony that I haue enioy'd the deerest bodily part of your Mistris: my ten thousand Duckets are yours, so is your Diamond too: if I come off, and leaue her in such honour as you haue trust in; Shee your Iewell, this your Iewell, and my Gold are yours: prouided, I haue your commendation, for my more free entertainment

Post. I embrace these Conditions, let vs haue Articles betwixt vs: onely thus farre you shall answere, if you make your voyage vpon her, and giue me directly to vnderstand, you haue preuayl'd, I am no further your Enemy, shee is not worth our debate. If shee remaine vnseduc'd, you not making it appeare otherwise: for your ill opinion, and th' assault you haue made to her chastity, you shall answer me with your Sword

Iach. Your hand, a Couenant: wee will haue these things set downe by lawfull Counsell, and straight away for Britaine, least the Bargaine should catch colde, and sterue: I will fetch my Gold, and haue our two Wagers recorded

Post. Agreed

French. Will this hold, thinke you

Phil. Signior Iachimo will not from it. Pray let vs follow 'em.

Exeunt.

Scena Sexta.

Enter Queene, Ladies, and Cornelius.

Qu. Whiles yet the dewe's on ground, Gather those Flowers, Make haste. Who ha's the note of them? Lady. I Madam

Queen. Dispatch.

Exit Ladies.

Now Master Doctor, haue you brought those drugges? Cor. Pleaseth your Highnes, I: here they are, Madam: But I beseech your Grace, without offence (My Conscience bids me aske) wherefore you haue Commanded of me these most poysonous Compounds, Which are the moouers of a languishing death: But though slow, deadly

Qu. I wonder, Doctor, Thou ask'st me such a Question: Haue I not bene Thy Pupill long? Hast thou not learn'd me how To make Perfumes? Distill? Preserue? Yea so, That our great King himselfe doth woo me oft For my Confections? Hauing thus farre proceeded, (Vnlesse thou think'st me diuellish) is't not meete That I did amplifie my iudgement in Other Conclusions? I will try the forces Of these thy Compounds, on such Creatures as We count not worth the hanging (but none humane) To try the vigour of them, and apply Allayments to their Act, and by them gather Their seuerall vertues, and effects

Cor. Your Highnesse Shall from this practise, but make hard your heart: Besides, the seeing these effects will be Both noysome, and infectious

Qu. O content thee. Enter Pisanio.

Heere comes a flattering Rascall, vpon him Will I first worke: Hee's for his Master, And enemy to my Sonne. How now Pisanio? Doctor, your seruice for this time is ended, Take your owne way

Cor. I do suspect you, Madam, But you shall do no harme

Qu. Hearke thee, a word

Cor. I do not like her. She doth thinke she ha's Strange ling'ring poysons: I do know her spirit, And will not trust one of her malice, with A drugge of such damn'd Nature. Those she ha's, Will stupifie and dull the Sense a-while, Which first (perchance) shee'l proue on Cats and Dogs, Then afterward vp higher: but there is No danger in what shew of death it makes, More then the locking vp the Spirits a time, To be more fresh, reuiuing. She is fool'd With a most false effect: and I, the truer, So to be false with her

Qu. No further seruice, Doctor, Vntill I send for thee

Cor. I humbly take my leaue. Enter.

Qu. Weepes she still (saist thou?) Dost thou thinke in time She will not quench, and let instructions enter Where Folly now possesses? Do thou worke: When thou shalt bring me word she loues my Sonne, Ile tell thee on the instant, thou art then As great as is thy Master: Greater, for His Fortunes all lye speechlesse, and his name Is at last gaspe. Returne he cannot, nor Continue where he is: To shift his being, Is to exchange one misery with another, And euery day that comes, comes to decay A dayes worke in him. What shalt thou expect To be depender on a thing that leanes? Who cannot be new built, nor ha's no Friends So much, as but to prop him? Thou tak'st vp Thou know'st not what: But take it for thy labour, It is a thing I made, which hath the King Fiue times redeem'd from death. I do not know What is more Cordiall. Nay, I prythee take it, It is an earnest of a farther good That I meane to thee. Tell thy Mistris how The case stands with her: doo't, as from thy selfe; Thinke what a chance thou changest on, but thinke Thou hast thy Mistris still, to boote, my Sonne, Who shall take notice of thee. Ile moue the King To any shape of thy Preferment, such As thou'lt desire: and then my selfe, I cheefely, That set thee on to this desert, am bound To loade thy merit richly. Call my women.

Exit Pisa.

Thinke on my words. A slye, and constant knaue, Not to be shak'd: the Agent for his Master, And the Remembrancer of her, to hold The hand-fast to her Lord. I haue giuen him that, Which if he take, shall quite vnpeople her Of Leidgers for her Sweete: and which, she after Except she bend her humor, shall be assur'd To taste of too. Enter Pisanio, and Ladies.

So, so: Well done, well done: The Violets, Cowslippes, and the Prime-Roses Beare to my Closset: Fare thee well, Pisanio. Thinke on my words.

Exit Qu. and Ladies

Pisa. And shall do: But when to my good Lord, I proue vntrue, Ile choake my selfe: there's all Ile do for you. Enter.

Scena Septima.

Enter Imogen alone.

Imo. A Father cruell, and a Stepdame false, A Foolish Suitor to a Wedded-Lady, That hath her Husband banish'd: O, that Husband, My supreame Crowne of griefe, and those repeated Vexations of it. Had I bin Theefe-stolne, As my two Brothers, happy: but most miserable Is the desires that's glorious. Blessed be those How meane so ere, that haue their honest wills, Which seasons comfort. Who may this be? Fye. Enter Pisanio, and Iachimo.

Pisa. Madam, a Noble Gentleman of Rome, Comes from my Lord with Letters

Iach. Change you, Madam: The Worthy Leonatus is in safety, And greetes your Highnesse deerely

Imo. Thanks good Sir, You're kindly welcome

Iach. All of her, that is out of doore, most rich: If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare She is alone th' Arabian-Bird; and I Haue lost the wager. Boldnesse be my Friend: Arme me Audacitie from head to foote, Or like the Parthian I shall flying fight, Rather directly fly

Imogen reads. He is one of the Noblest note, to whose kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Reflect vpon him accordingly, as you value your trust. Leonatus. So farre I reade aloud. But euen the very middle of my heart Is warm'd by'th' rest, and take it thankefully. You are as welcome (worthy Sir) as I Haue words to bid you, and shall finde it so In all that I can do

Iach. Thankes fairest Lady: What are men mad? Hath Nature giuen them eyes To see this vaulted Arch, and the rich Crop Of Sea and Land, which can distinguish 'twixt The firie Orbes aboue, and the twinn'd Stones Vpon the number'd Beach, and can we not Partition make with Spectacles so pretious Twixt faire, and foule? Imo. What makes your admiration? Iach. It cannot be i'th' eye: for Apes, and Monkeys 'Twixt two such She's, would chatter this way, and Contemne with mowes the other. Nor i'th' iudgment: For Idiots in this case of fauour, would Be wisely definit: Nor i'th' Appetite. Sluttery to such neate Excellence, oppos'd Should make desire vomit emptinesse, Not so allur'd to feed

Imo. What is the matter trow? Iach. The Cloyed will: That satiate yet vnsatisfi'd desire, that Tub Both fill'd and running: Rauening first the Lambe, Longs after for the Garbage

Imo. What, deere Sir, Thus rap's you? Are you well? Iach. Thanks Madam well: Beseech you Sir, Desire my Man's abode, where I did leaue him: He's strange and peeuish

Pisa. I was going Sir, To giue him welcome. Enter.

Imo. Continues well my Lord? His health beseech you? Iach. Well, Madam

Imo. Is he dispos'd to mirth? I hope he is

Iach. Exceeding pleasant: none a stranger there, So merry, and so gamesome: he is call'd The Britaine Reueller

Imo. When he was heere He did incline to sadnesse, and oft times Not knowing why

Iach. I neuer saw him sad. There is a Frenchman his Companion, one An eminent Monsieur, that it seemes much loues A Gallian-Girle at home. He furnaces The thicke sighes from him; whiles the iolly Britaine, (Your Lord I meane) laughes from's free lungs: cries oh, Can my sides hold, to think that man who knowes By History, Report, or his owne proofe What woman is, yea what she cannot choose But must be: will's free houres languish: For assured bondage? Imo. Will my Lord say so? Iach. I Madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter, It is a Recreation to be by And heare him mocke the Frenchman: But Heauen's know some men are much too blame

Imo. Not he I hope

Iach. Not he: But yet Heauen's bounty towards him, might Be vs'd more thankfully. In himselfe 'tis much; In you, which I account his beyond all Talents. Whil'st I am bound to wonder, I am bound To pitty too

Imo. What do you pitty Sir? Iach. Two Creatures heartyly

Imo. Am I one Sir? You looke on me: what wrack discerne you in me Deserues your pitty? Iach. Lamentable: what To hide me from the radiant Sun, and solace I'th' Dungeon by a Snuffe

Imo. I pray you Sir, Deliuer with more opennesse your answeres To my demands. Why do you pitty me? Iach. That others do, (I was about to say) enioy your- but It is an office of the Gods to venge it, Not mine to speake on't

Imo. You do seeme to know Something of me, or what concernes me; pray you Since doubting things go ill, often hurts more Then to be sure they do. For Certainties Either are past remedies; or timely knowing, The remedy then borne. Discouer to me What both you spur and stop

Iach. Had I this cheeke To bathe my lips vpon: this hand, whose touch, (Whose euery touch) would force the Feelers soule To'th' oath of loyalty. This obiect, which Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye, Fiering it onely heere, should I (damn'd then) Slauuer with lippes as common as the stayres That mount the Capitoll: Ioyne gripes, with hands Made hard with hourely falshood (falshood as With labour:) then by peeping in an eye Base and illustrious as the smoakie light That's fed with stinking Tallow: it were fit That all the plagues of Hell should at one time Encounter such reuolt

Imo. My Lord, I feare Has forgot Brittaine

Iach. And himselfe, not I Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce The Beggery of his change: but 'tis your Graces That from my mutest Conscience, to my tongue, Charmes this report out

Imo. Let me heare no more

Iach. O deerest Soule: your Cause doth strike my hart With pitty, that doth make me sicke. A Lady So faire, and fasten'd to an Emperie Would make the great'st King double, to be partner'd With Tomboyes hyr'd, with that selfe exhibition Which your owne Coffers yeeld: with diseas'd ventures That play with all Infirmities for Gold, Which rottennesse can lend Nature. Such boyl'd stuffe As well might poyson Poyson. Be reueng'd, Or she that bore you, was no Queene, and you Recoyle from your great Stocke

Imo. Reueng'd: How should I be reueng'd? If this be true, (As I haue such a Heart, that both mine eares Must not in haste abuse) if it be true, How should I be reueng'd? Iach. Should he make me Liue like Diana's Priest, betwixt cold sheets, Whiles he is vaulting variable Rampes In your despight, vpon your purse: reuenge it. I dedicate my selfe to your sweet pleasure, More Noble then that runnagate to your bed, And will continue fast to your Affection, Still close, as sure

Imo. What hoa, Pisanio? Iach. Let me my seruice tender on your lippes

Imo. Away, I do condemne mine eares, that haue So long attended thee. If thou wert Honourable Thou would'st haue told this tale for Vertue, not For such an end thou seek'st, as base, as strange: Thou wrong'st a Gentleman, who is as farre From thy report, as thou from Honor: and Solicites heere a Lady, that disdaines Thee, and the Diuell alike. What hoa, Pisanio? The King my Father shall be made acquainted Of thy Assault: if he shall thinke it fit, A sawcy Stranger in his Court, to Mart As in a Romish Stew, and to expound His beastly minde to vs; he hath a Court He little cares for, and a Daughter, who He not respects at all. What hoa, Pisanio? Iach. O happy Leonatus I may say, The credit that thy Lady hath of thee Deserues thy trust, and thy most perfect goodnesse Her assur'd credit. Blessed liue you long, A Lady to the worthiest Sir, that euer Country call'd his; and you his Mistris, onely For the most worthiest fit. Giue me your pardon, I haue spoke this to know if your Affiance Were deeply rooted, and shall make your Lord, That which he is, new o're: And he is one The truest manner'd: such a holy Witch, That he enchants Societies into him: Halfe all men hearts are his

Imo. You make amends

Iach. He sits 'mongst men, like a defended God; He hath a kinde of Honor sets him off, More then a mortall seeming. Be not angrie (Most mighty Princesse) that I haue aduentur'd To try your taking of a false report, which hath Honour'd with confirmation your great Iudgement, In the election of a Sir, so rare, Which you know, cannot erre. The loue I beare him, Made me to fan you thus, but the Gods made you (Vnlike all others) chaffelesse. Pray your pardon

Imo. All's well Sir: Take my powre i'th' Court for yours

Iach. My humble thankes: I had almost forgot T' intreat your Grace, but in a small request, And yet of moment too, for it concernes: Your Lord, my selfe, and other Noble Friends Are partners in the businesse

Imo. Pray what is't? Iach. Some dozen Romanes of vs, and your Lord (The best Feather of our wing) haue mingled summes To buy a Present for the Emperor: Which I (the Factor for the rest) haue done In France: 'tis Plate of rare deuice, and Iewels Of rich, and exquisite forme, their valewes great, And I am something curious, being strange To haue them in safe stowage: May it please you To take them in protection

Imo. Willingly: And pawne mine Honor for their safety, since My Lord hath interest in them, I will keepe them In my Bed-chamber

Iach. They are in a Trunke Attended by my men: I will make bold To send them to you, onely for this night: I must aboord to morrow

Imo. O no, no

Iach. Yes I beseech: or I shall short my word By length'ning my returne. From Gallia, I crost the Seas on purpose, and on promise To see your Grace

Imo. I thanke you for your paines: But not away to morrow

Iach. O I must Madam. Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please To greet your Lord with writing, doo't to night, I haue out-stood my time, which is materiall To'th' tender of our Present

Imo. I will write: Send your Trunke to me, it shall safe be kept, And truely yeelded you: you're very welcome.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.

Enter Clotten, and the two Lords.

Clot. Was there euer man had such lucke? when I kist the Iacke vpon an vp-cast, to be hit away? I had a hundred pound on't: and then a whorson Iacke-an-Apes, must take me vp for swearing, as if I borrowed mine oathes of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure

1. What got he by that? you haue broke his pate with your Bowle

2. If his wit had bin like him that broke it: it would haue run all out

Clot. When a Gentleman is dispos'd to sweare: it is not for any standers by to curtall his oathes. Ha? 2. No my Lord; nor crop the eares of them

Clot. Whorson dog: I gaue him satisfaction? would he had bin one of my Ranke

2. To haue smell'd like a Foole

Clot. I am not vext more at any thing in th' earth: a pox on't I had rather not be so Noble as I am: they dare not fight with me, because of the Queene my Mother: euery Iacke-Slaue hath his belly full of Fighting, and I must go vp and downe like a Cock, that no body can match

2. You are Cocke and Capon too, and you crow Cock, with your combe on

Clot. Sayest thou? 2. It is not fit your Lordship should vndertake euery Companion, that you giue offence too

Clot. No, I know that: but it is fit I should commit offence to my inferiors

2. I, it is fit for your Lordship onely

Clot. Why so I say

1. Did you heere of a Stranger that's come to Court night? Clot. A Stranger, and I not know on't? 2. He's a strange Fellow himselfe, and knowes it not

1. There's an Italian come, and 'tis thought one of Leonatus Friends

Clot. Leonatus? A banisht Rascall; and he's another, whatsoeuer he be. Who told you of this Stranger? 1. One of your Lordships Pages

Clot. Is it fit I went to looke vpon him? Is there no derogation in't? 2. You cannot derogate my Lord

Clot. Not easily I thinke

2. You are a Foole graunted, therefore your Issues being foolish do not derogate

Clot. Come, Ile go see this Italian: what I haue lost to day at Bowles, Ile winne to night of him. Come: go

2. Ile attend your Lordship. Enter.

That such a craftie Diuell as is his Mother Should yeild the world this Asse: A woman, that Beares all downe with her Braine, and this her Sonne, Cannot take two from twenty for his heart, And leaue eighteene. Alas poore Princesse, Thou diuine Imogen, what thou endur'st, Betwixt a Father by thy Step-dame gouern'd, A Mother hourely coyning plots: A Wooer, More hatefull then the foule expulsion is Of thy deere Husband. Then that horrid Act Of the diuorce, heel'd make the Heauens hold firme The walls of thy deere Honour. Keepe vnshak'd That Temple thy faire mind, that thou maist stand T' enioy thy banish'd Lord: and this great Land.

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Imogen, in her Bed, and a Lady.

Imo. Who's there? My woman: Helene? La. Please you Madam

Imo. What houre is it? Lady. Almost midnight, Madam

Imo. I haue read three houres then: Mine eyes are weake, Fold downe the leafe where I haue left: to bed. Take not away the Taper, leaue it burning: And if thou canst awake by foure o'th' clock, I prythee call me: Sleepe hath ceiz'd me wholly. To your protection I commend me, Gods, From Fayries, and the Tempters of the night, Guard me beseech yee.

Sleepes.

Iachimo from the Trunke.

Iach. The Crickets sing, and mans ore-labor'd sense Repaires it selfe by rest: Our Tarquine thus Did softly presse the Rushes, ere he waken'd The Chastitie he wounded. Cytherea, How brauely thou becom'st thy Bed; fresh Lilly, And whiter then the Sheetes: that I might touch, But kisse, one kisse. Rubies vnparagon'd, How deerely they doo't: 'Tis her breathing that Perfumes the Chamber thus: the Flame o'th' Taper Bowes toward her, and would vnder-peepe her lids. To see th' inclosed Lights, now Canopied Vnder these windowes, White and Azure lac'd With Blew of Heauens owne tinct. But my designe. To note the Chamber, I will write all downe, Such, and such pictures: There the window, such Th' adornement of her Bed; the Arras, Figures, Why such, and such: and the Contents o'th' Story. Ah, but some naturall notes about her Body, Aboue ten thousand meaner Moueables Would testifie, t' enrich mine Inuentorie. O sleepe, thou Ape of death, lye dull vpon her, And be her Sense but as a Monument, Thus in a Chappell lying. Come off, come off; As slippery as the Gordian-knot was hard. 'Tis mine, and this will witnesse outwardly, As strongly as the Conscience do's within: To'th' madding of her Lord. On her left brest A mole Cinque-spotted: Like the Crimson drops I'th' bottome of a Cowslippe. Heere's a Voucher, Stronger then euer Law could make; this Secret Will force him thinke I haue pick'd the lock, and t'ane The treasure of her Honour. No more: to what end? Why should I write this downe, that's riueted, Screw'd to my memorie. She hath bin reading late, The Tale of Tereus, heere the leaffe's turn'd downe Where Philomele gaue vp. I haue enough, To'th' Truncke againe, and shut the spring of it. Swift, swift, you Dragons of the night, that dawning May beare the Rauens eye: I lodge in feare, Though this a heauenly Angell: hell is heere.

Clocke strikes

One, two, three: time, time. Enter.

Scena Tertia.

Enter Clotten, and Lords.

1. Your Lordship is the most patient man in losse, the most coldest that euer turn'd vp Ace

Clot. It would make any man cold to loose

1. But not euery man patient after the noble temper of your Lordship; You are most hot, and furious when you winne. Winning will put any man into courage: if I could get this foolish Imogen, I should haue Gold enough: it's almost morning, is't not? 1 Day, my Lord

Clot. I would this Musicke would come: I am aduised to giue her Musicke a mornings, they say it will penetrate. Enter Musitians.

Come on, tune: If you can penetrate her with your fingering, so: wee'l try with tongue too: if none will do, let her remaine: but Ile neuer giue o're. First, a very excellent good conceyted thing; after a wonderful sweet aire, with admirable rich words to it, and then let her consider.

SONG.

Hearke, hearke, the Larke at Heauens gate sings, and Phoebus gins arise, His Steeds to water at those Springs on chalic'd Flowres that lyes: And winking Mary-buds begin to ope their Golden eyes With euery thing that pretty is, my Lady sweet arise: Arise, arise. So, get you gone: if this penetrate, I will consider your Musicke the better: if it do not, it is a voyce in her eares which Horse-haires, and Calues-guts, nor the voyce of vnpaued Eunuch to boot, can neuer amend. Enter Cymbaline, and Queene.

2 Heere comes the King

Clot. I am glad I was vp so late, for that's the reason I was vp so earely: he cannot choose but take this Seruice I haue done, fatherly. Good morrow to your Maiesty, and to my gracious Mother

Cym. Attend you here the doore of our stern daughter Will she not forth? Clot. I haue assayl'd her with Musickes, but she vouchsafes no notice

Cym. The Exile of her Minion is too new, She hath not yet forgot him, some more time Must weare the print of his remembrance on't, And then she's yours

Qu. You are most bound to'th' King, Who let's go by no vantages, that may Preferre you to his daughter: Frame your selfe To orderly solicity, and be friended With aptnesse of the season: make denials Encrease your Seruices: so seeme, as if You were inspir'd to do those duties which You tender to her: that you in all obey her, Saue when command to your dismission tends, And therein you are senselesse

Clot. Senselesse? Not so

Mes. So like you (Sir) Ambassadors from Rome; The one is Caius Lucius

Cym. A worthy Fellow, Albeit he comes on angry purpose now; But that's no fault of his: we must receyue him According to the Honor of his Sender, And towards himselfe, his goodnesse fore-spent on vs We must extend our notice: Our deere Sonne, When you haue giuen good morning to your Mistris, Attend the Queene, and vs, we shall haue neede T' employ you towards this Romane. Come our Queene.

Exeunt.

Clot. If she be vp, Ile speake with her: if not Let her lye still, and dreame: by your leaue hoa, I know her women are about her: what If I do line one of their hands, 'tis Gold Which buyes admittance (oft it doth) yea, and makes Diana's Rangers false themselues, yeeld vp Their Deere to'th' stand o'th' Stealer: and 'tis Gold Which makes the True-man kill'd, and saues the Theefe: Nay, sometime hangs both Theefe, and True-man: what Can it not do, and vndoo? I will make One of her women Lawyer to me, for I yet not vnderstand the case my selfe. By your leaue.

Knockes.

Enter a Lady.

La. Who's there that knockes? Clot. A Gentleman

La. No more

Clot. Yes, and a Gentlewomans Sonne

La. That's more Then some whose Taylors are as deere as yours, Can iustly boast of: what's your Lordships pleasure? Clot. Your Ladies person, is she ready? La. I, to keepe her Chamber

Clot. There is Gold for you, Sell me your good report

La. How, my good name? or to report of you What I shall thinke is good. The Princesse. Enter Imogen.

Clot. Good morrow fairest, Sister your sweet hand

Imo. Good morrow Sir, you lay out too much paines For purchasing but trouble: the thankes I giue, Is telling you that I am poore of thankes, And scarse can spare them

Clot. Still I sweare I loue you

Imo. If you but said so, 'twere as deepe with me: If you sweare still, your recompence is still That I regard it not

Clot. This is no answer

Imo. But that you shall not say, I yeeld being silent, I would not speake. I pray you spare me, 'faith I shall vnfold equall discourtesie To your best kindnesse: one of your great knowing Should learne (being taught) forbearance

Clot. To leaue you in your madnesse, 'twere my sin, I will not

Imo. Fooles are not mad Folkes

Clot. Do you call me Foole? Imo. As I am mad I do: If you'l be patient, Ile no more be mad, That cures vs both. I am much sorry (Sir) You put me to forget a Ladies manners By being so verball: and learne now, for all, That I which know my heart, do heere pronounce By th' very truth of it, I care not for you, And am so neere the lacke of Charitie To accuse my selfe, I hate you: which I had rather You felt, then make't my boast

Clot. You sinne against Obedience, which you owe your Father, for The Contract you pretend with that base Wretch, One, bred of Almes, and foster'd with cold dishes, With scraps o'th' Court: It is no Contract, none; And though it be allowed in meaner parties (Yet who then he more meane) to knit their soules (On whom there is no more dependancie But Brats and Beggery) in selfe-figur'd knot, Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement, by The consequence o'th' Crowne, and must not foyle The precious note of it; with a base Slaue, A Hilding for a Liuorie, a Squires Cloth, A Pantler; not so eminent

Imo. Prophane Fellow: Wert thou the Sonne of Iupiter, and no more, But what thou art besides: thou wer't too base, To be his Groome: thou wer't dignified enough Euen to the point of Enuie. If 'twere made Comparatiue for your Vertues, to be stil'd The vnder Hangman of his Kingdome; and hated For being prefer'd so well

Clot. The South-Fog rot him

Imo. He neuer can meete more mischance, then come To be but nam'd of thee. His mean'st Garment That euer hath but clipt his body; is dearer In my respect, then all the Heires aboue thee, Were they all made such men: How now Pisanio? Enter Pisanio.

Clot. His Garments? Now the diuell

Imo. To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently

Clot. His Garment? Imo. I am sprighted with a Foole, Frighted, and angred worse: Go bid my woman Search for a Iewell, that too casually Hath left mine Arme: it was thy Masters. Shrew me If I would loose it for a Reuenew, Of any Kings in Europe. I do think, I saw't this morning: Confident I am. Last night 'twas on mine Arme; I kiss'd it, I hope it be not gone, to tell my Lord That I kisse aught but he

Pis. 'Twill not be lost

Imo. I hope so: go and search

Clot. You haue abus'd me: His meanest Garment? Imo. I, I said so Sir, If you will make't an Action, call witnesse to't

Clot. I will enforme your Father

Imo. Your Mother too: She's my good Lady; and will concieue, I hope But the worst of me. So I leaue you Sir, To'th' worst of discontent. Enter.

Clot. Ile be reueng'd: His mean'st Garment? Well. Enter.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Posthumus, and Philario.

Post. Feare it not Sir: I would I were so sure To winne the King, as I am bold, her Honour Will remaine her's

Phil. What meanes do you make to him? Post. Not any: but abide the change of Time, Quake in the present winters state, and wish That warmer dayes would come: In these fear'd hope I barely gratifie your loue; they fayling I must die much your debtor

Phil. Your very goodnesse, and your company, Ore-payes all I can do. By this your King, Hath heard of Great Augustus: Caius Lucius, Will do's Commission throughly. And I think Hee'le grant the Tribute: send th' Arrerages, Or looke vpon our Romaines, whose remembrance Is yet fresh in their griefe

Post. I do beleeue (Statist though I am none, nor like to be) That this will proue a Warre; and you shall heare The Legion now in Gallia, sooner landed In our not-fearing-Britaine, then haue tydings Of any penny Tribute paid. Our Countrymen Are men more order'd, then when Iulius Caesar Smil'd at their lacke of skill, but found their courage Worthy his frowning at. Their discipline, (Now wing-led with their courages) will make knowne To their Approuers, they are People, such That mend vpon the world. Enter Iachimo.

Phi. See Iachimo

Post. The swiftest Harts, haue posted you by land; And Windes of all the Corners kiss'd your Sailes, To make your vessell nimble

Phil. Welcome Sir

Post. I hope the briefenesse of your answere, made The speedinesse of your returne

Iachi. Your Lady, Is one of the fayrest that I haue look'd vpon Post. And therewithall the best, or let her beauty Looke thorough a Casement to allure false hearts, And be false with them

Iachi. Heere are Letters for you

Post. Their tenure good I trust

Iach. 'Tis very like

Post. Was Caius Lucius in the Britaine Court, When you were there? Iach. He was expected then, But not approach'd

Post. All is well yet, Sparkles this Stone as it was wont, or is't not Too dull for your good wearing? Iach. If I haue lost it, I should haue lost the worth of it in Gold, Ile make a iourney twice as farre, t' enioy A second night of such sweet shortnesse, which Was mine in Britaine, for the Ring is wonne

Post. The Stones too hard to come by

Iach. Not a whit, Your Lady being so easy

Post. Make note Sir Your losse, your Sport: I hope you know that we Must not continue Friends

Iach. Good Sir, we must If you keepe Couenant: had I not brought The knowledge of your Mistris home, I grant We were to question farther; but I now Professe my selfe the winner of her Honor, Together with your Ring; and not the wronger Of her, or you hauing proceeded but By both your willes

Post. If you can mak't apparant That you haue tasted her in Bed; my hand, And Ring is yours. If not, the foule opinion You had of her pure Honour; gaines, or looses, Your Sword, or mine, or Masterlesse leaue both To who shall finde them

Iach. Sir, my Circumstances Being so nere the Truth, as I will make them, Must first induce you to beleeue; whose strength I will confirme with oath, which I doubt not You'l giue me leaue to spare, when you shall finde You neede it not

Post. Proceed

Iach. First, her Bed-chamber (Where I confesse I slept not, but professe Had that was well worth watching) it was hang'd With Tapistry of Silke, and Siluer, the Story Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman, And Sidnus swell'd aboue the Bankes, or for The presse of Boates, or Pride. A peece of Worke So brauely done, so rich, that it did striue In Workemanship, and Value, which I wonder'd Could be so rarely, and exactly wrought Since the true life on't was- Post. This is true: And this you might haue heard of heere, by me, Or by some other

Iach. More particulars Must iustifie my knowledge

Post. So they must, Or doe your Honour iniury

Iach. The Chimney Is South the Chamber, and the Chimney-peece Chaste Dian, bathing: neuer saw I figures So likely to report themselues; the Cutter Was as another Nature dumbe, out-went her, Motion, and Breath left out

Post. This is a thing Which you might from Relation likewise reape, Being, as it is, much spoke of

Iach. The Roofe o'th' Chamber, With golden Cherubins is fretted. Her Andirons (I had forgot them) were two winking Cupids Of Siluer, each on one foote standing, nicely Depending on their Brands

Post. This is her Honor: Let it be granted you haue seene all this (and praise Be giuen to your remembrance) the description Of what is in her Chamber, nothing saues The wager you haue laid

Iach. Then if you can Be pale, I begge but leaue to ayre this Iewell: See, And now 'tis vp againe: it must be married To that your Diamond, Ile keepe them

Post. Ioue- Once more let me behold it: Is it that Which I left with her? Iach. Sir (I thanke her) that She stript it from her Arme: I see her yet: Her pretty Action, did out-sell her guift, And yet enrich'd it too: she gaue it me, And said, she priz'd it once

Post. May be, she pluck'd it off To send it me

Iach. She writes so to you? doth shee? Post. O no, no, no, 'tis true. Heere, take this too, It is a Basiliske vnto mine eye, Killes me to looke on't: Let there be no Honor, Where there is Beauty: Truth, where semblance: Loue, Where there's another man. The Vowes of Women, Of no more bondage be, to where they are made, Then they are to their Vertues, which is nothing: O, aboue measure false

Phil. Haue patience Sir, And take your Ring againe, 'tis not yet wonne: It may be probable she lost it: or Who knowes if one her women, being corrupted Hath stolne it from her

Post. Very true, And so I hope he came by't: backe my Ring, Render to me some corporall signe about her More euident then this: for this was stolne

Iach. By Iupiter, I had it from her Arme

Post. Hearke you, he sweares: by Iupiter he sweares. 'Tis true, nay keepe the Ring; 'tis true: I am sure She would not loose it: her Attendants are All sworne, and honourable: they induc'd to steale it? And by a Stranger? No, he hath enioy'd her, The Cognisance of her incontinencie Is this: she hath bought the name of Whore, thus deerly There, take thy hyre, and all the Fiends of Hell Diuide themselues betweene you

Phil. Sir, be patient: This is not strong enough to be beleeu'd Of one perswaded well of

Post. Neuer talke on't: She hath bin colted by him

Iach. If you seeke For further satisfying, vnder her Breast (Worthy her pressing) lyes a Mole, right proud Of that most delicate Lodging. By my life I kist it, and it gaue me present hunger To feede againe, though full. You do remember This staine vpon her? Post. I, and it doth confirme Another staine, as bigge as Hell can hold, Were there no more but it

Iach. Will you heare more? Post. Spare your Arethmaticke, Neuer count the Turnes: Once, and a Million

Iach. Ile be sworne

Post. No swearing: If you will sweare you haue not done't, you lye, And I will kill thee, if thou do'st deny Thou'st made me Cuckold

Iach. Ile deny nothing

Post. O that I had her heere, to teare her Limb-meale: I will go there and doo't, i'th' Court, before Her Father. Ile do something. Enter.

Phil. Quite besides The gouernment of Patience. You haue wonne: Let's follow him, and peruert the present wrath He hath against himselfe

Iach. With all my heart.

Exeunt.

Enter Posthumus.

Post. Is there no way for Men to be, but Women Must be halfe-workers? We are all Bastards, And that most venerable man, which I Did call my Father, was, I know not where When I was stampt. Some Coyner with his Tooles Made me a counterfeit: yet my Mother seem'd The Dian of that time: so doth my Wife The Non-pareill of this. Oh Vengeance, Vengeance! Me of my lawfull pleasure she restrain'd, And pray'd me oft forbearance: did it with A pudencie so Rosie, the sweet view on't Might well haue warm'd olde Saturne; That I thought her As Chaste, as vn-Sunn'd Snow. Oh, all the Diuels! This yellow Iachimo in an houre, was't not? Or lesse; at first? Perchance he spoke not, but Like a full Acorn'd Boare, a Iarmen on, Cry'de oh, and mounted; found no opposition But what he look'd for, should oppose, and she Should from encounter guard. Could I finde out The Womans part in me, for there's no motion That tends to vice in man, but I affirme It is the Womans part: be it Lying, note it, The womans: Flattering, hers; Deceiuing, hers: Lust, and ranke thoughts, hers, hers: Reuenges hers: Ambitions, Couetings, change of Prides, Disdaine, Nice-longing, Slanders, Mutability; All Faults that name, nay, that Hell knowes, Why hers, in part, or all: but rather all. For euen to Vice They are not constant, but are changing still; One Vice, but of a minute old, for one Not halfe so old as that. Ile write against them, Detest them, curse them: yet 'tis greater Skill In a true Hate, to pray they haue their will: The very Diuels cannot plague them better. Enter.

Actus Tertius. Scena Prima.

Enter in State, Cymbeline, Queene, Clotten, and Lords at one doore, and at another, Caius, Lucius; and Attendants.

Cym. Now say, what would Augustus Caesar with vs? Luc. When Iulius Caesar (whose remembrance yet Liues in mens eyes, and will to Eares and Tongues Be Theame, and hearing euer) was in this Britain, And Conquer'd it, Cassibulan thine Vnkle (Famous in Caesars prayses, no whit lesse Then in his Feats deseruing it) for him, And his Succession, granted Rome a Tribute, Yeerely three thousand pounds; which (by thee) lately Is left vntender'd