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Is nobler, than attending for a check ;
of him, that makes them fine,
your stiff age ; but, unto us, it is
What should we speak of,
How you speak !
The fear's as bad as falling : the toil of the war,
Uncertain favour ! Bel. My fault being nothing (as I have told you
oft,). But that two villains, whose false oaths prevail'd Before my perfect honour, swore to Cymbeline, I was confederate with the Romans : so, Follow'd my banishment; and, this twenty years, This rock, and these demesnes, have been my world: Where I have liv'd at honest freedom; paid More pious debts to heaven, than in all The fore-end of my time. But, up to the mountains; This is not hunters language :-He, that strikes The venison first, shall be the lord o'the feast; To him the other two shall minister; And we will fear no poison, which attends
In place of greater state. I'll meet you in the valleys.
[Ereunt Gur, and Arv. How hard it is, to hide the sparks of nature ! These boys know little, they are sons to the king ; Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive. They think, they are mine : and, though train'd up
thus meanly I’the cave, wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit The roofs of palaces; and nature prompts them, In simple and low things to prince it, much Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore, The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, whom The king his father call'd Guiderius,- Jove! When on my three-foot stool I sit, and tell The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out Into my story: say,--Thus mine enemy fell; And thus I set my foot on his neck; even then The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats, Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in posture That acts my words. The younger brother, Cadwal, (Once, Arvirágus,) in as like a figure, Strikes life into my speech, and shows much more His own conceiving. Hark! the game is rous'd! O Cymbeline! heaven, and my conscience, knows, Thou didst unjustly banish me: whereon, At three, and two years old, I stole these babes; Thinking to bar thee of succession, as Thou reft'st me of my lands. Euriphile, Thou wast their nurse; they took thee for their mother, And every day do honour to her grave : Myself, Belarius, that am Morgan callid, They take for natural father. The game is up. [Erit.
Enter PISANIO and IMOGEN.
Imo. Thou told'st me, when we came from horse,
the place Was near at hand:-Ne'er long'd my mother so To see me first, as I have now:-Pisanio! Man! Where is Posthumus ? What is in thy mind, That makes thee stare thus ? Wherefore breaks that
Please you, read;
shall find me, wretched man, a thing The most disdain'd of fortune.
Imp. [Reads.] Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played
8 For behaviour,
the strumpet in my bed; the testimonies whereof lie bleeding in me, I speak not out of weak surmises; from proof as strong as my grief, and as certain as I expect my revenge. That part, thou Pisanio, must act for me, if thy faith be not tainted with the breach of hers. Let thine own hands take away her life; I shall give thee opportunities at Milford-Haven: she hath my letter for the purpose: Where, if thou fear to strike, and to make me certain it is done, thou art the pandar to her dishonour, and equally to me disloyal, Pis. What shall I need to draw my sword? the
paper Hath cut her throat already. No, 'tis slander; Whose edge is sharper than the sword; whose tongue Outvenoms all the worms of Nile; whose breath Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie All corners of the world: kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave This viperous slander enters.-What cheer, madam?
Imo. False to his bed! What is it, to be false ?
Pis. Alas, good lady!
Imo. I false? Thy conscience witness :-Iachimo, Thou didst accuse him of incontinency; Thou then look’dst like a villain; now, methinks, Thy favour's good enough. --Some jay' of Italy,
9 Putta, in Italian, signifies both a jay and a whore.