A figure of truth, of faith, of loyalty:
In reverend Cerimon there well appears
The worth that learned charity aye wears:
For wicked Cleon and his wife, when fame

Had spread their cursed deed and honour'd name
Of Pericles, to rage the city turn,

That him and his they in his palace burn;
The gods for murder seemed so content
To punish, although not done, but meant.
So, on your patience evermore attending,
New joy wait on you! Here our play has ending.

[Exit.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

CYMBELINE, king of Britain.
CLOTEN, son to the Queen by a former hus
band.

POSTHUMUS LEONATUS, a gentleman, hus-
band to Imogen.
BELARIUS, a banished lord, disguised
under the name of Morgan.
GUIDERIUS, sons to Cymbeline, dis-
guised under the names
of Polydors and Cadwal,
supposed sons to Morgan.
[friend to Posthu-

ARVIRAGUS,

PHILARIO,

Mario, Italians.

CAIUS LUCIUS, General of the Roman

forces.

PISANIO, servant to Posthumus.
CORNELIUS, a physician.
A Roman Captain.
Two British Captains.

A Frenchman, friend to Philario.
Two Lords of Cymbeline's court.
Two Gentlemen of the same.
Two Gaolers.

Queen, wife to Cymbeline.

IMOGEN, daughter to Cymbeline by a former queen.

HELEN, a lady attending on Imogen.

Lords, Ladies, Roman Senators, Tribunes, a Soothsayer, a Dutchman, a Spaniard, Musicians, Officers, Captains, Soldiers, Messengers, and other Attendants.

Apparitions.

SCENE: Britain: Rome.

ACT I-SCENE I

Britain.

The garden of Cymbeline's palace.
Enter two Gentlemen.

First Gent. You do not meet a man but frowns: our bloods No more obey the heavens than our courtiers

Still seem as does the king.

Sec. Gent.

First Gent. His daughter, and the heir of 's kingdom, whom
He purposed to his wife's sole son—a widow

That late he married-hath referr'd herself
Unto a poor but worthy gentleman: she's wedded;
Her husband banish'd; she imprison'd: all

Is outward sorrow; though I think the king

Be touch'd at very heart.

Sec. Gent.

None but the king?

First Gent. He that hath lost her too: so is the queen,
That most desired the match: but not a courtier,
Although they wear their faces to the bent

Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not
Glad at the thing they scowl at.

Sec. Gent.

And why so?

First Gent. He that hath miss'd the princess is a thing
Too bad for bad report: and he that hath her,

I mean, that married her,-alack, good man!—
And therefore banish'd, is a creature such
As, to seek through the regions of the earth

For one his like, there would be something failing

In him that should compare. I do not think
So fair an outward and such stuff within

Endows a man but he.

Sec. Gent.

You speak him fair.

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

His measure duly.

Sec. Gent.

What's his name and birth?

First Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: his father
Was call'd Sicilius, who did join his honour
Against the Romans with Cassibelan,
But had his titles by Tenantius, whom
He served with glory and admired success,
So gain'd the sur-addition Leonatus:
And had, besides this gentleman in question,
Two other sons, who in the wars o' the time

Died with their swords in hand; for which their father,
Then old and fond of issue, took such sorrow
That he quit being, and his gentle lady,
Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceased
As he was born. The king he takes the babe
To his protection, calls him Posthumus Leonatus,
Breeds him and makes him of his bed-chamber:
Puts to him all the learnings that his time
Could make him the receiver of; which he took,
As we do air, fast as 'twas minister'd,

And in 's spring became a harvest: lived in court-
Which rare it is to do-most praised, most loved:
A sample to the youngest, to the more mature
A glass that feated them, and to the graver
A child that guided dotards; to his mistress,
For whom he now is banish'd, her own price
Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue;
By her election may be truly read

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

First Gent.

His only child.

He had two sons,-if this be worth your hearing,
Mark it, the eldest of them at three years old,

I' the swathing clothes the other, from their nursery
Were stolen, and to this hour no guess in knowledge
Which way they went.

Sec. Gent.

How long is this ago?

First Gent. Some twenty years.

Sec. Gent. That a king's children should be so convey'd!
So slackly guarded! and the search so slow,

That could not trace them!

First Gent.

Howsoe'er 'tis strange,

Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,
Yet it is true, sir.

Sec. Gent.

I do well believe you.

First Gent. We must forbear: here comes the gentleman,
The queen and princess.

Enter the Queen, Posthumus and Imogen.

[Exeunt.

Queen. No, be assured you shall not find me, daughter,
After the slander of most stepmothers,

Evil-eyed unto you: you're my prisoner, but
Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys

That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
So soon as I can win the offended king,

I will be known your advocate: marry, yet
The fire of rage is in him, and 'twere good

You lean'd unto his sentence with what patience
Your wisdom may inform you.

Post.

I will from hence to-day.

Please your highness,

You know the peril.

Queen.
I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying

The pangs of barr'd affections, though the king
Hath charged you should not speak together.

Imo.

Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant

Can tickle where she wounds! My dearest husband,
I something fear my father's wrath; but nothing-
Always reserved my holy duty-what

His rage can do on me: you must be gone,
And I shall here abide the hourly shot
Of angry eyes, not comforted to live,
But that there is this jewel in the world
That I may see again.

Post.

My queen! my mistress !

O lady, weep no more, lest I give cause

To be suspected of more tenderness

Than doth become a man! I will remain

The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth:
My residence in Rome at one Philario's,
Who to my father was a friend, to me

Known but by letter: thither write, my queen,

[Exit

And with mine eyes I ll drink the words you send,
Though ink be made of gall.

Queen.

Re-enter Queen.

Be brief, I pray you :

If the king come, I shall incur I know not

How much of his displeasure. [Aside] Yet I'll move him
To walk this way: I never do him wrong

But he does buy my injuries, to be friends;
Pays dear for my offences.

Post.

Should we be taking leave As long a term as yet we have to live,

The loathness to depart would grow. Adieu!

Imo. Nay, stay a little :

Were you but riding forth to air yourself,

Such parting were too petty.

Look here, love;

This diamond was my mother's: take it, heart;
But keep it till you woo another wife,

When Imogen is dead.

Post.

How, how! another?

You gentle gods, give me but this I have,

And sear up my embracements from a next

[Exit.

[thou here

With bonds of death! [Putting on the ring.] Remain, remain

While sense can keep it on! And, sweetest, fairest,

As I my poor self did exchange for you

To your so infinite loss, so in our trifles
I still win of you: for my sake wear this;
It is a manacle of love; I'll place it

Upon this fairest prisoner. [Putting a bracelet on her arm.
O the gods !

Imo.

When shall we see again?

Post.

Enter Cymbeline and Lords.

Alack, the king!

Cym. Thou basest thing, avoid! hence, from my sight!
If after this command thou fraught the court

With thy unworthiness, thou diest: away!
Thou 'rt poison to my blood.

Post.
And bless the good remainders of the court!

I am gone.

Imo.

The gods protect you,

[Exit.

There cannot be a pinch in death

More sharp than this is.

Cym.

O disloyal thing,

That shouldst repair my youth, thou heap'st
A year's age on me!

Imo.

I beseech you, sir,