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As I my poor felf did exchange for you,
To your fo infinite lofs; fo, in our trifles
I ftill win of you. For my fake, wear this;
It is a manacle of love, I'll place it

[Putting a bracelet on her arm.

Upon this faireft pris'ner.
Imo. O, the Gods!

When fhall we fee again?


Enter Cymbeline, and Lords.

Poft. Alack, the King!

Cym. Thou bafelt thing avoid! hence! from my

If, after this Command, thou fraught the Court
With thy unworthinefs, thou dy't. Away!
Thou'rt poifon to my


Post. The Gods protect you,

And bless the good remainders of the Court!
I'm gone.

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

Cym. O difloyal thing,

That shouldft repair my youth, thou heap'ft

(7) A year's age on me.

Imo. I befeech you, Sir,

Harm not yourself with your Vexation;

(7) A year's age on me.] Dr. Warburton reads,

Ayare age on me.


It seems to me, even from Skinner, whom he cites, that yare is ufed only as a perfonal quality. Nor is the authority of Skin ner fufficient, without fome example, to juftify the alteration. Hanmer's reading is better, but rather too far from the original copy,

I read,

Thou beapeft many
A year's age on me.

-Thou heap'ft

Years, ages on me.

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I'm fenfeless of your wrath; (8) a touch more rare Subdues all pangs, all fears.

Cym. Paft grace? obedience?

Imo. Paft hope, and in defpair; that way, paft grace.
Cym. Thou might'st have had the fole fon of my

Imo. O, bleft, that I might not! I chose an eagle, And did avoid (9) a puttock.

Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; wouldft have made my Throne

A feat for Bafenefs.

Imo. No, I rather added

A luftre to it.

Cym. O thou vile one!
Imo. Sir,

It is your fault, that I have lov'd Pofthumus:
You bred him as my play-fellow; and he is
A man, worth any woman; over-buys me
Almoft the fum he pays.

Cym. What!-art thou mad ?

Imo. Almoft, Sir; heav'n reftore me! Would I


A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus

Our neighbour-fhepherd's fon!

Enter Queen.

Cym. Thou foolish Thing.

They were again together, you have done


a touch more rare

Subdues all pangs, all fears.

[To the Queen.

Rare is ufed often for eminently good, but I do not remember any paffage in which it ftands for eminently bad. May we read, - a touch more near.

Cura Deam propior luctufque domefticus angit..

Shall we try again,

a touch more rear

Crudum vulnus. But of this I know not any example..


There is yet another interpretation, which perhaps will remove the difficulty. A touch more rare, may mean, a nobler passion. (9) puttock.] A kite.


Not after our Command. Away with her, pen her up.


Queen. Befeech your patience. Peace,

Dear lady daughter, peace. Sweet Sovereign,

Leave us t' ourselves, and make yourself fome comfort Out of your best advice.

Cym. Nay, let her languish

A drop of blood a-day; and, being aged,

Die of this folly.

Enter Pifanio.

Queen. Fy, you must give way.


Here is your fervant. How now, Sir? What news?
Pif. My Lord, your fon drew on my mafter.
Queen. Hah!

No harm, I truft, is done?

Pif. There might have been,

But that my mafter rather play'd, than fought,

And had no help of anger.

By gentlemen at hand.

Queen. I'm very glad on't.

They were parted

Imo. Your fon'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,

Myfelf by with a needle, that I might prick

The goer-back. Why came you from your mafter ?
Pif. On his command. He would not fuffer me
To bring him to the haven; left these notes
Of what commands I fhould be fubject to,
When 't pleas'd you to employ me.

Queen. This hath been

Your faithful fervant; I dare lay mine honour,
He will remain fo.

Pif. I humbly thank your Highness.

Queen. Pray, walk a while.

Imo. About fome half hour hence, pray you, speak

with me;

You fhall, at leaft, go fee my Lord abroad.

For this time leave me.

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Enter Cloten, and two Lords.


1 Lord. Sir, I would advise you to shift a fhirt; violence of action hath made you reek as a facrifice. Where air comes out, air comes in, there's none abroad fo wholefome as that you vent.

Clot. If my fhirt were bloody, then to fhift itHave I hurt him?

2 Lord. No, faith: Not fo much as his patience.

[Afide. 1 Lord. Hurt him? his body's a paffable carcafs, if he be not hurt. It is a thorough-fare for fteel, if it be not hurt.

2 Lord. His fteel was in debt, it went o' th' backfide the town.

Clot. The villain would not ftand me.


2 Lord. No, but he fled forward ftill, toward your


[Afide. 1 Lord. Stand you? you have land enough of your own; but he added to your Having, gave you fome ground.

2 Lord. As many inches, as you have oceans, puppies !


Clot. I would, they had not come between us. 2 Lord. So would I, 'till you had meafur'd how long a fool you were upon the ground.


Clot. And that the fhould love this fellow, and refufe me!

2 Lord. If it be a fin to make a true election, fhe's damn'd. [Afide. 1 Lord. Sir, as I told you always, (1) her beauty and her brain go not together. (2) She's a good Sign,


(1) her beauty and her brain, &c.] I believe the Lord means to speak a sentence. Sir, as I told you always, beauty and brain go not together.

(2) She's a good Sign,] If fign be the true reading, the poet means by it conftellation, and by reflection is meant influence. But I rather

but I have seen fmall reflection of her wit.

2 Lord. She fhines not upon fools, left the reflection fhould hurt her.

Clot. Come, I'll to


my chamber. 'Would there

had been fome hurt done!

2 Lord. I wish not fo, unless it had been the fall of

an afs, which is no great hurt.

Clot. You'll go with us?

1 Lord. I'll attend your Lordship. Clot. Nay, come, let's go together. 2 Lord. Well, my Lord.

Imo. I


Imogen's Apartments.

Enter Imogen, and Pifanio.



Would, thou grew'ft unto the fhores o' th

And question'dft every fail: if he should write,
And I not have it, (3) 'twere a paper


As offer'd mercy is. What was the laft

That he spake with thee?

Pif. "Twas, "His Queen, his Queen!"
Imo. Then wav'd his handkerchief?

Pif. And kifs'd it, Madam.

Imo. Senfelefs linen, happier therein than I!

And that was all?

I rather think, from the anfwer, that he wrote bine. So in his Venus and Adonis,

As if, from thence, they borrowed all their fhine.


There is acutenefs enough in this note, yet I believe the poet meant nothing by fign, but fair outward fhew..


"twere a paper loft.

As offer'd mercy is.

i. e. Should one of his letters mifcarry, the lofs would be as great as that of offer'd mercy. But the Oxford Editor amends it thus,

-'twere a paper left,

With offer'd mercy in it.

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