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If that his head have ear in musick,) doubtless,
With joy he will embrace you; for he's honourable,
And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad9
You have me, rich; and I will never fail

Beginning, nor supplyment.

Imo.

Thou art all the comfort

The gods will diet me with.1 Pr'ythee, away:
There's more to be consider'd; but we 'll even
All that good time will give us :2 This attempt
I'm soldier to,3 and will abide it with

A prince's courage. Away, I pr'ythee.

Pis. Well, madam, we must take a short farewel; Lest, being miss'd, I be suspected of

4

Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress,
Here is a box: I had it from the queen ;*
What's in 't is precious; if you are sick at sea,
Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this
Will drive away distemper.-To some shade,

He is followed by Dr. Warburton. Johnson.

The words were probably written at length in the manuscript, you will, and you omitted at the press: or will was printed for we'll. Malone.

9

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your means abroad &c.] As for your subsistence abroad, you may rely on me. So, in sc v: thou should'st neither want my means for thy relief, nor my voice for thy preferment."

Malone.

to

diet me with.] Alluding to the spare regimen prescribed in some diseases. So, in The Two Gentlemen of Verona: " fast, like one that takes diet." Steevens.

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All that good time will give us:] We'll make our work even with our time; we'll do what time will allow. Johnson.

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This attempt

I'm soldier to,] i. e. I have inlisted and bound myself to it. Warburton. Rather, I think, I am equal to this attempt; I have enough of ardour to undertake it. Malone.

Mr. Malone's explanation is undoubtedly just. I'm soldier to, is equivalent to the modern cant phrase-I am up to it, i. e. I have ability for it. Steevens.

4 Here is a box; I had it from the queen;] Instead of this box, the modern editors have in a former scene made the Queen give Pisanio a vial, which is dropped on the stage, without being broKen. See Act I, sc. vi.

In Pericles, Cerimon, in order to recover Thaisa, calls for all the boxes in his closet. Malone.

And fit you to your manhood:-May the gods

Direct you to the best!

Imo.

Amen: I thank thee. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.

A Room in Cymbeline's Palace.

Enter CYMBELINE, Queen, CLOTEN, LUCIUS, and

Lords.

Cym. Thus far; and so farewel.

Luc.

Thanks, royal sir.

My emperor hath wrote; I must from hence;
And am right sorry, that I must report ye
My master's enemy.

Сут.

Our subjects, sir,

Will not endure his yoke; and for ourself
To show less sovereignty than they, must needs
Appear unkinglike.

Luc.

So, sir, I desire of you5

A conduct over land, to Milford-Haven.—

Madam, all joy befal your grace, and you!

Cym. My lords, you are appointed for that office; The due of honour in no point omit:

So, farewel, noble Lucius.

Luc.

Your hand, my lord.

Clo. Receive it friendly: but from this time forth I wear it as your enemy.

Luc.

Sir, the event

Is yet to name the winner: Fare you well.

Cym. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords, Till he have cross'd the Severn.-Happiness!

[Exeunt Luc. and Lords. Queen. He goes hence frowning: but it honours us,

5 So, sir, I desire of you] The two last words are, in my opinion, very probably omitted by Sir Thomas Hanmer, as they only serve to derange the metre.

6

Steevens.

all joy befal your grace, and you!] I think we should read -his grace, and you. Malone.

Perhaps our author wrote:

your grace, and yours!

i. e. your relatives. So, in Macbeth:

"And beggar'd yours for ever." Steevens.

That we have given him cause.

'Tis all the better;

Clo.
Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.

Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the emperor
How it goes here. It fits us therefore, ripely,
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness:
The powers that he already hath in Gallia

Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves
His war for Britain.

Queen.
'Tis not sleepy business;
But must be look'd to speedily, and strongly.
Cym. Our expectation that it would be thus,
Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen,
Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd
Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd
The duty of the day: She looks us like

A thing more made of malice, than of duty;
We have noted it.-Call her before us; for

We have been too slight in sufferance. [Exit an Attend.
Queen.

Royal sir,
Since the exíle of Posthumus, most retir'd
Hath her life been; the cure whereof, my lord,
'Tis time must do. 'Beseech your majesty,
Forbear sharp speeches to her: She's a lady
So tender of rebukes, that words are strokes,
And strokes death to her.

Cym.

Re-enter an Attendant.

Where is she, sir? How

Please you, sir,

Can her contempt be answer'd?

Atten.

Her chambers are all lock'd; and there's no answer
That will be given to the loud'st of noise we make.
Queen. My lord, when last I went to visit her,
She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close;
Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity,

She should that duty leave unpaid to you,
Which daily she was bound to proffer: this

She wish'd me to make known; but our great court
Made me to blame in memory.

Cym.

Her doors lock'd?

Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that, which I fear, Prove false!

Queen. Son, I say, follow the king."

[Exit.

Clo. That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant, I have not seen these two days.

Queen.
Go, look after.- [Exit CLo.
Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthúmus!

He hath a drug of mine: I pray, his absence
Proceed by swallowing that; for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her,

Where is she gone? Haply, despair hath seiz'd her;
Or, wing'd with fervour of her love, she 's flown
To her desir'd Posthúmus: Gone she is

To death, or to dishonour; and my end

Can make good use of either: She being down,
I have the placing of the British crown.

How now, my son?

Clo.

Re-enter CLOTEN.

'Tis certain, she is fled:

Go in, and cheer the king; he rages; none
Dare come about him.

Queen.

All the better: May

This night forestall him of the coming day!

[Exit Queen. Clo. I love, and hate her: for she 's fair and royal; And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite Than lady, ladies, woman;9 from every one

1

The best she hath, and she, of all compounded,
Outsells them all: I love her therefore; But,
Disdaining me, and throwing favours on

The low Posthúmus, slanders so her judgment,
That what's else rare, is chok'd; and, in that point,

7 Son, I say, follow the king.] Some word, necessary to the metre, is here omitted. We might read:

8

Go, son, I say; follow the king. Steevens.

May

This night forestall him of the coming day!] i. e. May his grief this night prevent him from ever seeing another day, by an anticipated and premature destruction! So, in Milton's Masque :

"Perhaps fore-stalling night prevented them." Malone.

9 And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite Than lady, ladies, woman;] She has all courtly parts, says he, more exquisite than any lady, than all ladies, than all womankind. Johnson.

There is a similar passage in All's Well that Ends Well, Act II, sc. iii:"To any count; to all counts; to what is man." Tollet.

I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed,
To be reveng❜d upon her. For, when fools

Enter PISANIO.

Shall-Who is here? What! are you packing, sirrah?
Come hither: Ah, you precious pandar! Villain,
Where is thy lady! In a word; or else
Thou art straightway with the fiends.

Pis.

O, good my lord!

Clo. Where is thy lady? or, by Jupiter,

I will not ask again. Close villain,2

I'll have this secret from thy heart, or rip
Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus?

From whose so many weights of baseness cannot
A dram of worth be drawn.

Pis.

Alas, my lord,

How can she be with him? When was she miss'd?

He is in Rome.

Clo.

Where is she, sir? Come nearer;

No further halting: satisfy me home,

What is become of her?

Pis. O, my all-worthy lord!

Clo.

All-worthy villain!

Discover where thy mistress is, at once,

At the next word,-No more of worthy lord,—
Speak, or thy silence on the instant is

Thy condemnation and thy death.

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2

Pis.

- from every one

Or this, or perish.3 [Aside.

The best she hath,] So, in The Tempest:

66

but you, O you,

"So perfect, and so peerless, are created

"Of every creature's best." Malone.

Close villain,] A syllable being here wanting to complete

the measure, perhaps we ought to read:

Close villain, thou,

Steevens.

3 Or this, or perish.] These words, I think, belong to Cloten, who, requiring the paper, says:

Let's see't:-I will pursue her

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