First Gent. ^note
You do not meet a man but frowns: our bloods ^note
No more ^note obey the heavens ^note than ^note our ^note courtiers ^{note note}
Still ^note seem as does the king ^{note note}.

Sec. Gent. ^note
But what's the matter?

First Gent. ^note
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 ^note herself
Unto ^note a poor but worthy gentleman: she's wedded; ^note
Her husband banish'd; she imprison'd: all ^note
Is ^note outward sorrow; though I think the king
Be touch'd at very heart.

Sec. Gent. ^note
None but the king?

First Gent. ^note
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 ^note, hath ^note a heart that is not ^note
Glad at the thing they scowl at.

Sec. Gent. ^note
And why so?

First Gent. ^note
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, ^note 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 ^note.

Sec. Gent. ^note
You speak him far ^note.

First Gent. ^note
I do extend him, sir, within ^note himself,
Crush ^note him together rather than unfold
His measure duly ^note.

Sec. Gent. ^note
What's his name and birth?

First Gent. ^note
I cannot delve him to the root: his father
Was call'd Sicilius, who did join ^note his honour ^note
Against the Romans with Cassibelan ^note,
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 ^note 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 ^note,
Breeds him and makes him of his bed-chamber:
Puts to him ^note all the learnings ^note 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 ^note became a harvest: lived ^note 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 ^note them, and to the graver
A child that guided dotards; to ^note his mistress,
For whom he now is banish'd, her own price
Proclaims how she esteem'd him and his virtue;
By ^note her election may be truly read
What kind of man he is. ^note

Sec. Gent. ^note
I honour him

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

First Gent. ^note
His only child. ^note
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 ^note their nursery
Were stolen, and to this hour no guess in knowledge
Which way they went.

Sec. Gent. ^note
How long is this ago?

First Gent. ^note
Some twenty years.

Sec. Gent. ^note
That a ^note king's children should be so convey'd!
So slackly guarded! and the search so slow,
That could not trace them!

First Gent. ^note
Howsoe'er 'tis strange,
Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,
Yet is it ^note true, sir.

Sec. Gent. ^note
I do well believe you.

First Gent. ^note
We must forbear: here comes the gentleman, ^note
The queen and princess. [Exeunt. Enter the Queen, Posthumus and Imogen. ^note

Queen.
No, be assured you shall not find me, daughter,
After the slander of most stepmothers,
Evil-eyed ^note unto you: you're ^note 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.
Please your highness,
I will from hence to-day.

Queen.
You know the peril.
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. [Exit.

Imo.
O ^note
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 ^note doth become a man! I will remain
The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth:
My residence in Rome ^note at one Philario's ^note,
Who to my father was a friend, to me
Known but by letter: thither write, my queen,
And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send,
Though ink be made of gall. Re-enter ^note Queen.

Queen.
Be brief, I pray you:
If the king come, I shall incur I know not

How much of his displeasure. [Aside ^note] Yet I'll move him
To walk this way: I never do him wrong
But he does buy ^note my injuries, to be friends;
Pays ^note dear for my offences. [Exit. ^note

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 ^note up my embracements from ^note a next
With bonds ^note of death! [Putting on the ring. ^note] Remain, remain thou here
While sense can keep it on ^note! And, sweetest, fairest,
As I my poor self ^note 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. ^note

Imo.
O the gods! ^note
When shall we see again? Enter Cymbeline and Lords.

Post.
Alack, the king!

Cym.
Thou basest thing, avoid! hence, ^note from my sight!
If after this command thou fraught ^note the court
With thy unworthiness, thou diest: away!
Thou'rt ^note poison to my blood.

Post.
The gods protect you,
And bless the good remainders of the court!
I am ^note gone. [Exit.

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

Cym.
O disloyal thing,
That shouldst repair my youth, thou heap'st
A year's age ^note on ^note me!

Imo.
I beseech you, sir,
Harm not yourself with your vexation:
I am ^note senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare ^note
Subdues all pangs, all fears.

Cym.
Past grace? obedience?

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

Cym.
That ^note mightst have had the sole son of my queen! ^note

Imo.
O blessed ^note, that I might not! I chose an eagle,
And did avoid a puttock.

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

Imo.
No; I rather added
A lustre to it. ^note

Cym.
O thou vile ^note one!

Imo.
Sir,
It is your fault that I have loved Posthumus:
You bred him as my playfellow, and ^note he is
A man worth any woman, overbuys me
Almost the sum he pays.

Cym.
What, art thou mad!

Imo.
Almost, sir: heaven restore me! Would I were
A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus
Our neighbour-shepherd's son!

Cym.
Thou foolish thing! Re-enter Queen. ^{note note}
They were again together: you have done
Not after our command. Away with her,
And pen her up.

Queen.
Beseech your ^note patience. Peace,
Dear lady daughter, peace! Sweet sovereign,
Leave us to ourselves, and make yourself some comfort
Out of your best advice.

Cym.
Nay, let her languish
A drop of blood a day; and, being aged,
Die of this folly! [Exeunt ^note Cymbeline and Lords.

Queen.
Fie! you must give way. Enter Pisanio. ^note
Here is your servant. How now sir! What news?

Pis.
My lord your son drew on my master.

Queen.
Ha!

No harm, I trust, is done?

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

Queen.
I am ^note very glad on't.

Imo.
Your son's my father's friend; he takes his part.
To draw upon an exile! ^note O brave sir!
I would they were in Afric both together;
Myself by with a needle, that I might prick
The goer-back ^note. Why came you from your master?

Pis.
On his command: he would not suffer me
To bring him to the haven: left these notes
Of what commands I should be subject to ^note
When't pleased ^note you to employ me.

Queen.
This hath been
Your faithful servant: I dare lay mine honour
He will remain so.

Pis.
I humbly thank your highness.

Queen.
Pray, walk awhile.

Imo.
About some half-hour hence,
I pray you ^note, speak with me: you shall at least
Go see my lord aboard: for ^note this time leave me. ^note [Exeunt.

^note

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