What air's from home. Haply this life is best, That have a sharper known, well corresponding Arv. What should we speak of, When we are old as you? when we shall hear Bel. How you speak ! And felt them knowingly: the art o' the court, The fear's as bad as falling: the toil of the war, A pain that only seems to seek out danger I' the name of fame, and honour; which dies i' the search, And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph, As record of fair act; nay, many times, Doth ill deserve by doing well; what's worse, 5 A prison for a debtor,] All the old copies read," A prison or a debtor”— Pope's correction. Whose boughs did bend with fruit; but, in one night, Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, Gui. 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! And we will fear no poison, which attends In place of greater state. I'll meet you in the valleys. [Exeunt GUI. 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 In simple and low things, to prince it, much 6 I' the cave WHEREIN THEY BOW,] The folios read, whereon the bow. burton amended the text, in consistency with what has gone before. War And thus I set my foot on's neck;" even then Strikes life into my speech, and shows much more At three, and two years old, I stole these babes, 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 call'd, They take for natural father.-The game is up. [Exit. SCENE IV. Near Milford-Haven. 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! What is in thy mind, To see ME first, as I have now,] The folio, 1632, misprints "see me," of the folio, 1623, seeme, and it stands seem in the two later folios. Southern altered his copy of the folio, 1685, thus : "Ne'er long'd his mother so To see him first, as I have now ;" which certainly is more consistent with Imogen's state of mind, and renders the words "as I have now " more relative. It may have been an original misprint in the folio, 1623. That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that sigh From th' inward of thee? One, but painted thus, Beyond self-explication: put thyself Into a haviour of less fear, ere wildness But keep that countenance still.—My husband's hand! And he's at some hard point.-Speak, man: thy tongue May take off some extremity, which to read Pis. Imo. [Reads.] [Reads.] "Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played the strumpet in my bed; the testimonies whereof lie bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak surmises, but 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 opportunity 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, All corners of the world: kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave To lie in watch there, and to think on him? To weep 'twixt clock and clock? if sleep charge nature, To break it with a fearful dream of him, And cry myself awake? that's false to his bed: 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, Pis. Good madam, hear me. Imo. True honest men being heard, like false Æneas, Were in his time thought false; and Sinon's weeping Did scandal many a holy tear; took pity From most true wretchedness: so thou, Posthumus, Goodly, and gallant, shall be false, and perjur'd, From thy great fail.-Come, fellow, be thou honest: I draw the sword myself: take it; and hit |