Sidor som bilder
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May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty.
My resolution's plac'd, and I have nothing
Of woman in me: Now from head to foot
I am marble-constant: now the fleeting moon
No planet is of mine.

Re-enter Guard, with a Clown bringing a basket. Guard. This is the man. Cleo. Avoid, and leave him. [Exit Guard. Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there, That kills and pains not?

Clown. Truly I have him but I would not be the party that should desire you to touch him, for his biting is immortal; those, that do die of it, do seldom or never recover.

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Cleo. Remember'st thou any that have died on't? Clown. Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, but something given to lie; as a woman should not do, but in the way of honesty: how she died of the biting of it, what pain she felt, Truly, she makes a very good report o' the worm : But he that will believe all that they say, shall never be saved by half that they do: But this is most fallible, the worm's an odd worm.

Cleo. Get thee hence; farewell.

Clown. I wish you all joy of the worm. Cleo. Farewell. [Clown sets down the basket. Clown. You must think this, look you, that the worm will do his kind.

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Cleo. Ay, ay; farewell.

Clown. Look you, the worm is not to be trusted, but in the keeping of wise people: for, indeed, there is no goodness in the worm.

Cleo. Take thou no care; it shall be heeded.

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

Cleo. Will it eat me?

Clown. You must not think I am so simple, but I know the devil himself will not eat a woman: I know, that a woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her not. But, truly, these same whoreson devils do the gods great harm in their women; for in every ten that they make, the devils mar five.

Cleo. Well, get thee gone; farewell. Clown. Yes, forsooth; I wish you joy of the [Exit.

worm.

Re-enter IRAs, with a robe, crown, &c. Cleo. Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me: Now no more The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip : — Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. - Methinks, I hear Antony call; I see him rouse himself To praise my noble act; I hear him mock The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men To excuse their after wrath: Husband, I come : Now to that name my courage prove my title! I am fire, and air; my other elements I give to baser life. So, have you done? Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. Farewell, kind Charmian; - Iras, long farewell. [Kisses them. IRAS falls and dies. Have I the aspick in my lips? Dost fall? If thou and nature can so gently part, The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, Which hurts, and is desir'd. Dost thou lie still? If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world It is not worth leave-taking.

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Peace, peace! Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, That sucks the nurse asleep?

―――

Char. O, break! O, break . Cleo. As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle, O Antony! - Nay, I will take thee too : [Applying another asp to her arm. What should I stay[Falls on a bed, and dies. Char. In this wide world? So, fare thee well. Now boast thee, death! in thy possession lies A lass unparallel'd. Downy windows, close; And golden Phoebus never be beheld Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry ; I'll mend it, and then play.

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Have slime upon them, such as the aspick leaves
Upon the caves of Nile.

Cæs.

Most probable,
That so she died; for her physician tells me,
She hath pursu'd conclusions infinite
Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed;
And bear her women from the monument: -
She shall be buried by her Antony:

No grave upon the earth shall clip in it

A pair so famous. High events as these
Strike those that make them; and their story is
No less in pity, than his glory, which
Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall,
In solemn show, attend this funeral;
Come, Dolabella, see
High order in this great solemnity.

[Exeunt

Cæs.
O noble weakness'
If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear
By external swelling: but she looks like sleep,
As she would catch another Antony
In her strong toil of grace.

Dol.
Here, on her breast,
There is a vent of blood, and something blown :
The like is on her arın.

1 Guard. This is an aspick's trail: and these fig- And then to Rome.

leaves

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father

(Then old and fond of issue,) took such sorrow, That he quit being; and his gentle lady, Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceas'd

As he was born. The king, he takes the babe
To his protection; calls him Posthumus;
Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber:
Puts him to 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 his spring became a harvest: Liv'd in court,
(Which rare it is to do,) most prais'd, most lov'd:
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.
What kind of man he is.

2 Gent.

I honour him

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

Which way they went.

2 Gent.

How long is this ago? i Gent. Some twenty years.

2 Gent. That a king's children snould be so con

vey'd !

So slackly guarded! And the search so slow,
That could not trace them!

1 Gent.

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

2 Gent.

I do well believe you. 1 Gent. We must forbear: Here comes the and princess. [Exeunt.

queen,

SCENE 11. The same.

Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS, and IMOGEN.

Queen. No, be assur'd, you shall not find me, daughter,

After the slander of most step-mothers,
Evil-ey'd unto you: you are my prisoner, but
Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys
That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthúmus,
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.

Please your highness,

Post.

-

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 charg'd you shou' not speak together.
[Exit QUEEN.
0

Im
Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant
Can tickle where she wounds! - My dearest hus-

band,

I something fear my father's wrath; but nothing,
(Always reserv'd 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.

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If, after this command, thou fraught the court With thy unworthiness, thou diest: Away! Thou art poison to my blood.

Post. The gods protect you! And bless the good remainders of the court! I am gone.

[Exit.

Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death
More sharp than this is.
Cym.
O disloyal thing,
That should'st repair my youth; thou heapest
A year's age on me!
Imo.
I beseech you, sir,
Harm not yourself with your vexation; I
Am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare
Subdues all pangs, all fears.

Cym.
Past grace? obedience >
Imo. Past hope, and in despair; that way, past
grace.

Cym. That might'st have had the sole son of my queen!

Imo. O bless'd, that I might not! I chose an eagle,

And did avoid a puttock.

cym.

Thou took'st a beggar; would'st have | fice: Where air comes out, air comes in there's made my throne

none abroad so wholesome as that you vent.

A seat for baseness.

Clo. If my shirt were bloody, then to shift itHave I hurt him?

Imo.

A lustre to it.
Cym.

Imo.

No;

O thou vile one!

Sir,

It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus:
You bred him as my playfellow; and he is
A man, worth any woman; overbuys me
Almost the sum he pays.

I rather added

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 !

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Ha!

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 very glad on't.

Imo. Your son's my father's friend; he takes his part. To draw upon an exile! - O brave sir! I would they were in Africk both together; Myself by with a needle, that I might prick The goer back. 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, When it pleas'd 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 a while.

Imo.

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

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. — A publick Place.

Enter CLOTEN and Two Lords.

1 Lord. Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt ; the violence of action hath made you reek as a sacri

2 Lord. No, faith; not so much as his patience. [Aside.

1 Lord. Hart him? his body's a passable carcass, if he be not hurt it is a thoroughfare for steel, if it be not hurt.

2 Lord. His steel was in debt: it went o'the back side the town. [Aside

Clo. The villain would not stand me.

2 Lord. No; but he fled forward still, toward your face. [Aside.

1 Lord. Stand you! You have land enough of your own but he added to your having; gave you some ground.

2 Lord. As many inches as you have oceans: Puppies! [Aside.

Clo. I would, they had not come between us. 2 Lord. So would I, till you had measured how long a fool you vere upon the ground. [Aside. Clo. And that she should love this fellow, and refuse me!

2 Lord. If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damned. [Aside.

1 Lord. Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not together: She's a good sign, but I have seen small reflection of her wit.

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