Classic Audiobook Collection - Cymbeline by William Shakespeare ~ Full Audiobook [drama]

Episode Date: April 26, 2025

Cymbeline by William Shakespeare audiobook. Genre: drama In ancient Britain and imperial Rome, a royal household becomes a tinderbox of jealousy, ambition, and divided loyalties. Cymbeline, King of Britain, has remarried, and his new Queen is determined to secure power for her own son, Cloten. Standing in her way is Cymbeline's daughter, Imogen, who has secretly married the honorable but low-born Posthumus Leonatus and is swiftly separated from him by the court's intrigues. Exiled and vulnerable, Posthumus is drawn into a dangerous wager that puts Imogen's faithfulness on trial, while Imogen faces escalating pressure, deceit, and threats within the palace. Beyond Britain, Rome demands tribute, testing the kingdom's pride and stirring the possibility of war. Disguises, lost identities, and shifting alliances carry the story from candlelit chambers to wild landscapes, where questions of honor, love, and forgiveness collide with the brutal realities of politics. As accusations harden into betrayal and the stakes rise from private heartbreak to national conflict, Imogen must navigate a world determined to rewrite her future and uncover what is true before everything she values is destroyed. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 0 (00:04:06) Chapter 1 (00:51:29) Chapter 2 (01:21:44) Chapter 3 (02:12:06) Chapter 4 (02:49:26) Chapter 5 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Act 1 of Symbeline by William Shakespeare. Act 1. Scene 1. Britain. The Garden of Symbeline's Palace. Enter two gentlemen. You do not meet a man but frowns. Our bloods no more obey the heavens than our courteous. Still seem as does the king.

But what's the matter? His daughters and the age. heir of's kingdom, whom he purpose to his wife's sole son, a widow that late he married hath referred herself unto a poor but worthy gentleman. She's wedded. Her husband banished, she imprisoned all his outward sorrow, though I think the king be touched at very heart. None but the king? He that hath lost her too, so is the queen, that most desire the match, but not a courtier, although they wear their faces to the bent

of the king's looks, at the heart that is not glad at the thing they scowl at. And why so? He that hath missed the princesses a thing too bad for bad report. And he that hath her, I mean, that married her,

alack, good man, and therefore banished is a creature such as to seek through the regions of the earth, for one he's like, there would be something failing in him that should compare. I do not think so fair and outward, and such stuff within endows a man but he. You speak him far? I do extend him, sir, within himself, crush him together rather than unfold his measure duly.

What's his name and birth? I cannot delve him to the root. His father was called Cecilius, who did join his honour against the Romans with Cassibellen, but had his titles by Tenantius, whom he served with glory and admired success. So gained the surredition Leonatus, and had, besides this gentleman in question, two other sons,

who in the wars of the time died with their swords in hand, for which their father, then old and fond of 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, cause impostumous Leonatus, breeds him and makes him of his bedchamber, puts to him all the learnings that his time could make him the receiver of, which he took, as we do wear, fast as twas ministered, An in spring became a harvest, lived 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 them,

and to the graver, a child that guided Daltards, to his mistress for whom he now is banished, her own price proclaims how she esteemed him and his virtue. by her election may be truly read what kind of man he is. I honour him even out of your report, but pray you, tell me, is she sole child to the king? His only child, he had two sons, if this be worth your hearing, mark it. The eldest of them, at three years old, either swathing clothes the other from their nursery was stolen,

and to this hour no guess in knowledge, which way they went. How long is this ago? Some twenty years. That a king's children should be so conveyed, so slackly guarded, and the search so slow, that could not trace them. How so ere tis strange, or that the negligence may well be laughed at, yet it is true, sir. I do well believe you. We must forbear. Here comes the gentleman, the queen and princess.

Exaunt. Enter the queen, posthumous, and Imogen. No, to be assured, you shall not find me, daughter, after the slender of most stepmothers, evil-eyed unto you. You're my prisoner, but your jader shall deletor. deliver you the keys that lock up your restrained. For you, posthumus, so soon as I can win the offended king, I will be known your advocate. Mary, yet the fire of rages in him, and were good you leaned unto his sentence, with what patience your wisdom may inform you.

Please, your highness, I will from hence to-day. You know the peril. I'll fetch a turn about the guard. pitying the pangs of barterfactions though the king hath charged you should not speak together exit o disembling 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 hereby the hourly shot of angry eyes not comforted to live but that there is this jewel in the world that i may see again my queen my mistress o lady weep no more lest i give cause to be suspected of more tenderness than doth become a man i will remain the loyal's husband that did e'er plight troth my residence in rome at one filario who to my father was a friend, to me known but by letter. To the right, my queen, and with my eyes I'll drink the words you send,

though ink be made of gall. Re-enter, Queen. Be brief, I pray you. If the king come, I shall incur, I know not how much of his displeasure. Aside, Yet I'll move him to walk this way. I never do him wrong. But he does buy my injuries to be friends, pays dear for my offences.

Exit. Should we be taking leave as long a term as yet we have to live? The loathness to depart would grow. Adieu. 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 Imurgeon is dead. How? How? Another! You gentle gods, give me but this I have, and stir up my embracements from a next with bonds of death. Putting on the ring. Remain, remain thou here, while sense can keep it on. and sweetest, fairest, as I my poor self 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 upon her arm.

Oh, the gods, when shall we see again? Enter Symbeline and Lords Alack the king Thou becest thing avoid Hence from my sight If after this command Thou wroth the court with thy unworthiness Thou diest away

Thou are poisoned to my blood The gods protect you And bless the good remainders of the court I am gone. Exit. There cannot be a pinch in death More sharp than this is. Oh, just loyal thing

That should repair my youth. Thou heapsed a year's age on me. 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 past grace abedian past hope and in despair that way past grace but mightst have had the sole son of my queen how blessed i might not i chose an eagle and did avoid a pottock

Thou took'st a beggar. What's not made my throne a seat for bishness? No, I rather added a luster to it. Oh, do one! Sir, it is your fault that I have loved posthumus. You bred him as my playfellow, and he is a man worth any woman, overbys me almost the sum he pays.

What of them? almost sir heaven restore me would i were a needherd's daughter and my leonatus our neighbour shepherd's son thou foolish thing re-enter queen they were again together you have not done after i command away with her and put her up beseech your patience peace dear lady daughter peace sweet sovereign leave us to ourselves and make yourself some comfort out of your best advice nay let her long was a drop of blood a day and being a die of this bully excellent cymbaline and lords fie you must give way enter pisanio here is your servant how now sir what news my lord your son drew on my master ah no harm my trust is done there might have been but that my master rather played than fought and had no help of anger They were parted, by gentlemen at hand.

I am very glad on it. Your son's my father's friend. He takes his part. To draw upon an exile, oh, brave, sir. I would they were in Africa both together, myself by with a needle, that I might prick the goer back.

Why came you from your master? On his command, he would not suffer me to bring him to the head, Haven, left these notes, of what commands I should be subject to, went pleased you to employ me. This have been your faithful servant. I dare lay mine honour, he will remain so. A humbly thank you, Your Highness. Pray, walk a while. About some half our hands, I pray you, speak with me. You shall at least go see my lord aboard, for this time leave me.

Exxioned. Scene two. The same. A public place. Enter Clotton and two lords. Sir, I would advise to shift a shirt. The violence of action hath made you weak as a sacrifice. Where air comes out, air comes in.

Is none abroad so wholesome as that you vent? If my shirt were bloody, Despected. No, Faith, not so much as his patience. Hurt him. His body is a passable carcass if he be not hurt. It is a through-fair for steel if it be not hurt. His steel was in debt.

It went to the backside the town. The villain would not stand. No, but he fled forward still towards your face. Stand you? You have learned enough of your own, but he added to your having, gave you some ground. As many inches as you have oceans, puppies. Oh, would they have not come between us? So would I, till you had measured how long a fool you were upon the ground. And that she should love this fella refuse me.

If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damned. Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not together. She is a good sign, but I have seen small reflection of her way. She shines not upon fools, lest the reflection should hurt her. Come out of my chamber, would there have been sooner done? I wish not so, unless it had been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt. You'll go with us. Oh, I'll attend your lordship.

well my lord exeunt scene three a room in simbelline's palace and the imogen and pisanio i would thou grus'd unto the shores of the haven and question'st every sail if he should write and i not have it twere paper lost as of what mercy is what was the last that he spake to thee It was his queen, his queen. Then waved his handkerchief. And kissed it, madam. Oh, senseless linen. Happier therein than I. And that was all?

No, madam, for so long as he could make me with this eye or ear, distinguish him from others, he did keep the deck with glove, or hats, or handkerchief, still waving, as the fits and stirs of his mind could best express how slow his soul sailed on. "'How swift his ship! "'Thou shouldst have made him as little as a crow, or less,

"'eer left to after-eye him.' "'Madam, so I did.' "'I would have broke my eye-strings, cracked them, "'but to look upon him till the diminution of space "'had pointed him sharp as my needle. "'Nay, followed him till he had melted from the smallness of a net to air, "'and then have turned mine eye and wept. But good Pisano, when shall we hear from him?

Be assured, madam, with his next vantage. I did not take my leave of him, but had most pretty things to say. Ere could tell him how I would think on him at certain hours, such thoughts and such, or I could make him swear the shees of Italy should not betray my interest and his honour, or have charged him at the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight, to encounter me with orisons, for then I am in heaven for him, or here I could give him that parting kiss

which I had said betwixt two charming words, comes in my father, and like the tyrannous breathing of the north, shakes all our buds from growing. Enter a lady. The queen, madam, desires your highness' company. Those things I bid you do, get them dispatched.

I will attend the queen. Madam, I shall. Exceunt. Scene four. Rome. Philarius House. Enter Philario, Yakimo, a Frenchman, a Dutchman, and a Spaniard. Believe it, sir, I have seen him in Britain.

He was then of a crescent note, expected to prove so worthy, as since he had been allowed. the name of but i could then have looked on him without the help of admiration though the catalogue of his endermints had been tabled by his side and i to peruse him by items you speak of him when he was less furnished than now he is with that which makes him both without and within i have seen him in france we had very many there could be old a son with as firm eyes as he. This matter of marrying his king's daughter wherein he must be weighed rather by her value than his

own, words him, I doubt not, a great deal from the matter. And then his banishment. I, and the approbation of those that weep this lamentable divorce under her colours are wonderfully to extend him,

be it but to fortify her judgment which else an easy battery might play flat for taking a beggar without less quality but how comes it tears to sojourn with you how creeps his father and i were soldiers together to whom i have been often bound for no less than my life here comes the britain let him be so entertained amongst you a suits with gentlemen of your knowing to a stranger of his quality. Enter posthumus. I beseech you all. Be better known to this gentleman, whom I commend to you as a noble friend of mine. How worthy he is I will leave to appear hereafter, rather than story him, in his own hearing. Sir, we have known together in Orleon. Since when I have been debtor to you for courtesies, which I will be ever to be ever to

pay, and yet pay still. Sir, you overweight my poor kindness. I was glad I did atone my countrymen and you. It had been pity you should have been put together with so mortal a purpose as then each ball, upon importance of so slight and trivial a nature. My pardon, sir, I was then a young traveller, rather shone to go even with what I heard.

heard than in my every action to be guided by others' experiences. But upon my mended judgment, if I offend not to say it is mended, my quarrel was not altogether slight. Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitralment of swords, and by such too that would by all likelihood have confounded one the other, or have fallen both. Can we, with manners, are what was the different safely i think twas a contention in public which may without contradiction suffered the report it was much like an argument that fell out last night where each of us fell in praise of our country mistresses this gentleman at that time vouching and upon warrant of bloody affirmation his to be more fair, virtuous, wise, chaste, constant qualified, and less attemptable than any the rarest of our ladies in France.

That lady is not now living, or this gentleman's opinion by this worn-out. She holds her virtue still, and I, my mind. You must not so far prefer her for hours of Italy. Being so far provoked as I was in France, I would debate her nothing, though I professed myself her adorer, not her friend. As fair and as good, a kind of hand-in-hand comparison, had been something too fair and too good for any lady in Britain. If she went before others I have seen, as that diamond of yours outlusters many I have

behold, I could not but believe she excelled many, but I have not seen the most precious diamond that is, nor you, the lady. I praised her as I rated her. So do I, my stone. What do you esteem it at? More than the world enjoys. Either your unparagoned mistress is dead, or she's outpriced by a trifle. You are mistaken. The one may be sold, or given, if there were wealth enough for the purchase, or merit for the gift, the other is not a thing for sale, and only the gift of the gods. Which the gods have given you. Which, by their graces, I will keep.

You may were entitled yours, but you know, strange foul, light upon neighbouring ponds. Your ring may be stolen too. So your brace of unprisable estimations, the one is but frail, and the other casual, a cunning thief, or a that-way accomplished courtier, would hazard the winning both of first and last. Your Italy contains none so accomplished a courtier to convince the honour of my mistress, if, in the holding or loss of that, you term her frail. I do nothing doubt you have store of thieves. Notwithstanding, I fear not my ring. Let us leave here, gentlemen. Sir, with all my heart, this worthy signor, I thank him, makes no stranger of me.

We are familiar at first. With five times so much conversation, I could get ground of your fair mistress, make a go back, even to the yielding, had I admittance and opportunity to friend. No, no. I dare bear upon pawn the moiety of my estate to your ring, which, in my opinion, overvalues it's something. But I make my wager rather against your confidence than her reputation, and to bar your offence herein, too. I durst attempted against any lady in the world.

You are a great deal abused and too bold a persuasion, and I doubt not you sustain what you're worthy of by your attempt. What's that? A repulse, though your attempt, as you call it, deserve more. A punishment, too. gentlemen enough of this it came in too suddenly let it die as it was born and i pray you be better acquainted would i had put my estate and my neighbours on the approbation of what i have spoke what lady would you choose to assail yours whom in constancy you think stands so safe i will lay you ten thousand ducats to your ring that commend me to the court where your lady is with no more advantage than the opportunity of a second conference and i will bring from thence that honour of hers which you imagine so reserved

I will wage against your gold. Gold to it. My ring I hold dear as my finger. It is part of it. You are afraid, and the in the wiser. If you buy ladies' plush at a million a dram, you cannot preserve it from tainting, but I see you have some religion in you that you fear. This is but a custom in your tongue. You bear a grave a purpose, I hope. I am the master of my speeches, and would undergo what spoken, I swear. Will you? I shall but lend my diamond till your return. Let there be covenants drawn betweens. My mistress exceeds in goodness the hugueness of your unworthy thinking. I dare you to this match. Here's my ring. I will have it no lay. By the gods, it is one.

If I bring you no sufficient to testimony, my ten thousand ducats are yours, so is your diamond too. If I come off and leave her in such honour as you have trust in, she, your duel, this your duel and my gold are yours. Provided I have your commendation for my more free entertainment. I embrace these conditions. Let us have articles betwixt us. Only thus far you shall answer. If you make your voyage upon her and give me directly to understand you have prevailed, I am no further your enemy. She is not worth our debate. If she remain unsiduced, you not making it appear otherwise, for your ill opinion and the assault you have made to her chastity, you shall answer me with your sword. a covenant we will have these things set down by lawful counsel and straight away for britain lest the bargain should catch cold and starve i will fetch my gold and have our two wages recorded agreed axiunt posthumus and yakimo will these hold think you signor signor yekimo will not from it pray let us follow em Exxient. Scene 5.

Britain. A room in Symbelin's Palace. Enter Queen, Ladies, and Cornelius. While she had the Jews on ground, gather those flowers. Make haste. Who has the note of them? Aye, madam. Dispatch.

Axiom ladies. Now, Master, Doctor, have you brought those drugs? Please, as your highness, I? Here they are, madam. Presenting a small box. But I beseech your grace, without offence, my conscience bids me ask, whether you have commended of me these most poisonous compounds,

which are the movers of a languishing death, but though slow, deadly? I wonder, doctor, thou asked me such a question. Have I not been thy pupil long? Has thou not learned me how, to make perfumes, distill, preserve, yea, so that our great king himself doth woo me oft for my confections. Having thus far proceeded, unless thou think'st me devilish, is not meet that I did amplify my judgment in other conclusions. I will try the forces of these thy compounds on such creatures

as we count not worth the hanging, but none human, to try to try to force. the vigour of them and apply a layments to their act and by them gather their several virtues and effects your highness shall from this practice but make hard your heart besides seeing these effects would be both noisome and infectious oh contenty and the pisanio here comes a flattering rascal upon him will i first work he is for his master and enemy to my son. How now, Pisano? Doctor, your service for this time is ended. Take your own way. Cornelius aside.

I do suspect you, madam, but you shall do no harm. Queen to Pisano. Hark, D, a word. I do not like her. She does all think she has strange lingering poisons. I do know her spirit, and will not trust one of her malice with a drug of such damned nature. Though she has so stupefy and dull this in so while, which first, perchance, she approve on cats and dogs, then afterward up higher,

but there is no danger in what show of death it makes, more than the locking-out the spirits a time, to be more fresh, reviving. She is fooled with a most false effect, and I the truer, so to be false with her. No further service, doctor, until I send for thee. I humbly take my leave. Exit. Weeps she still, says thou.

Dost thou think in time she will not quench and let instructions enter where folly now possesses. Do thy work. When thou shalt bring me word she loves my son, I'll tell thee on the in the instance. instant thou art then as great as thy master greater for his fortunes all lies speechless and his name is at last gasp return he cannot no continue where he is to shift his being is to exchange one misery with another and every day that comes comes to decay a day's work in him what shall thou expect to be depender on a thing that leans who cannot be new build nor has no friends, so much as but to prop him.

The queen drops the box. Pisanyo takes it up. Thou takest up, thou know'st not what. But take it for thy labour. It is a thing I made, which hath the king five times redeemed from death. I do not know what is more cordial. Nayaprithee, take it. It is an earnest of a father good that I may not.

mean to thee tell thy mistress how the case stands with her do it as from thyself think what a chance thou changest on but think thou hast thy mistress still to boot my son who shall take notice of thee i'll move the king to any shape of thy preferment such as thou wilt desire and then myself i chiefly that set thee on to this desert am bound to load thy merit richly call my women think on my words exit a sly and constant knave not to be shaked the agent for his master and the remembrance of her to hold the hand fast to her lord i have given him that which if he take shall quite unpeople her of liegers for her sweet and which she after except she bent her humour shall be assured to taste of two Re-enter, Pisano and ladies. So, so, well done, well done. The violet's cowslips and the primroses spare to my closet.

Ferry well, Pisano. Think on my words. Exxient Queen and ladies. Anne shall do. But when to my good lord I prove untrue, I'll choke myself. That's all I'll do for you. Exit Scene 6 The same, another room in the palace And the Imogen

A father cruel and a step-dame falls A foolish suitor to a wedded lady That has her husband banished Oh, that husband My supreme crown of grief And those repeated vexations of it Had I been thieves stolen as my two brothers happy, but most miserable is the desire that's glorious. Blessed be those, how mean soever,

that have their honest wills which seasons comfort. Who may this be? Faye! Enter Pizano and Yakimo. Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome comes from my lord with letters. Change you, madam. The worthy Leonatus is, in safety, and greets your highness dearly. Presents a letter. Thanks, good sir. You're kindly welcome. Yakimo, aside. All of her that is out of dumbest rich, if she be punished with a mind so rare,

she is alone the Arabian bird, and I have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend, arm me audacity from head to foot, or like the parthian, I shall flying fight. Rather directly fly. Imogen reads, He is one of the noblest note, to whose kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Reflect upon him accordingly as you value your trust.

Leonatus. So far I read aloud, but even the very middle of my heart is warmed by the rest and takes it thankfully. You are as welcome, worthy, sir, as I have words to bid you, and shall find it so in all that I can do. Fang, fairest lady,

What are men mad? At nature given them eyes To see this vaulted arch And the rich crop of sea and land Which can distinguish twixt the fiery orbs above And the twin stones upon the numbered beach And can we not partition make With spectacle so precious twixt fair and foul?

What makes your adieu? It cannot be, in the eye, for apes and monkeys twixt two such shees would chatter this way, and contend with mouths the other, nor is the judgment, for idiots in this case of favour would be wisely definite, nor it the appetite, sluttory to such neat excellence opposed, should make desire vomit emptiness, not so allured to feed. What is the matter, Trow? the cloyed will that satiate yet unsatisfied desire that tub both filled and running ravening first the lamb longs after for the garbage what dear sir does reps you are you well thanks madam well to pisano besie you sir desire my man's abode where i did leave him he is strange and peevish I was going, sir, to give him welcome. Exit.

Continues well, my lord. His health beseech you. Well, madam. Is he disposed to mirth? I hope he is. Exceeding pleasant. None a stranger there so merry and so gamesome, he is called the Breton Reveler.

When he was here he did incline to sadness, and of times not knowing why. I never saw him sad. There is a Frenchman, his companion, one an eminent monsieur, that, it seems, much loves a galleon girl at home. He furnaces the thick size from him, whilst the jolly Britain,

your lord, I mean, laughs from his free lungs, cries, oh, can my side's horse, hold to think that man who knows by history report or his own proof what woman is, yea, what she cannot choose but must be, will his free hours language for assured bondage? Will my lord say so? Aye, madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter.

It is a recreation to be by and hear him mock the Frenchman. But heavens know, some men are much to blame. Not he, I hope. Not he, but yet heaven's bounty towards him might be used more thankfully. In himself tis much, in you, which I account his beyond all talent. Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound to pity to. What do you pity, sir? Two creatures heartily.

Am I one, sir? You look on me. What wreck discern you in me deserves your pity? Lamentable what, to hide me from the radiant sun and solace of the dungeon by a snuff. I pray you, sir, deliver with more openness your answers to my demands. Why do you pity me? That others do, I was about to say, enjoy you. But it is an opposite of the gods to be. avenge it not mine to speak on it.

You do seem to know something of me, or what concerns me. Pray you, since doubting things go ill often hurts more than to be sure they do, for certainties either are past remedies, or timely knowing the remedy then born. Discover to me what both you spur and stop. Had I this cheek to bathe my lips upon, this hand whose touch whose every touch would force the fearless soul to the oath of loyalty this object which takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye fixing it only here should i damned them slavre with lips as common as the stairs that mount the capital join gripes with hands made hard with hourly falsehood falsehood as with labour them by peeping in an eye base and unlustrous as the smoky light that sped with stinking it were fit that all the plagues of hell should at one time encounter such revolt my lord i fear has forgot britain

and him saw not i incline to this intelligence pronounce the beggary of his change but tis your graces that from my mutest conscience to my tongue charms this report out ah let me hear no more o dearest soul your cause doth strike my heart with pity that hath made me sick her lady so fair and fastened to an emperry would make the greatest king double to be partner'd with with tombways hired with that self-exhibition which your own coppers yield be revenged, while she that poor you was no queen, and do recoil from your great stock. Revenged? How should I be revenged? If this be true, as I have such a heart that both mine ears must not in haste abuse, if it be true, how should I be revenged? I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure, more noble,

They'll not run agate to your bed, and will continue fast to your affection, still close as sure. Whato, Pisaño! Let me my service tender on your lips. Away! I do condemn mine ears that have so long attended thee. If thou were honourable thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not for such an end thou seagest, as base as strange. thou wrongs the gentleman who is as far from thy report as thou from honour, and solicitest here a lady that disdains thee, and the devil alike.

What ho, Pisanyo! The king, my father, shall be made acquainted of thy assault. If he shall think it fit a saucy stranger in his court to expound his beastly mind to us, he has a court he little cares for, and a daughter who he not respects at all. Whato? Pisaan you. Oh, happy Leonatus. I may say, the credit that thy lady hath of thee deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect goodness, her a sheer credit.

Blessed, live you long, a lady to the worthiest sir that ever country called his, and you his mistress only for the most worthiest pit, give me your pardon. I have spoke this to know if your apiance were deeply rooted, and shall make your lord that which he is new o'er and he is one the truest mannard such a holy witch that he enchant societies into him half all men's hearts are his you make amends he sits amongst men like a descended god he hath a kind of honour sets him up more than a mortal seeming be not angry most mighty princess that i have adventured to try your taking off a false report which hath honoured with confirmation your great judgment in the election of a sir so rare which you know cannot err the love i bear him made me to fan you thus but the gods made you unlike all others chaplests pray your pardon all swell sir take my power in the court for yours my humble thanks i had almost forgot to in the court for yours my humble thing i had almost forgot to in Treat your grace, but in a small request, and yet at moment too, for it concerns your lord.

Myself and other noble friends are partners in the business. Pray, what is it? Some dozen Romans of us and your lord, the best feather of our wing, have mingled sums to buy a present for the emperor which I, the factor for the rest, have done in France. Tis plate of red device and jewels of rich and exquisite form, their value is great, and i am something curious being strange to have them in safe storage may it please you to take them in protection willingly and pawn mine honour for their safety since my lord has interest in them i will keep them in my bed-chamber they are in a trunk attended by my men i will make bold to send them to you only for this night i must aboard to-morrow oh no no yes i beseech or i shall short my word by lengthening my return from gallia i cross the seas on purpose and on promise to see your grace i thank you for your pains but not away to-morrow

oh i must madam therefore i shall beseech you if you please to greet your lord with writing do it to-night i have outstead my time which is material to the tender of our present i will write send your trust you to your lord with writing do it to-night i will write send your trust to me. It shall safe be kept and truly yielded you. You're very welcome. Exeunt. End of Act 1. Act 2 of Symbeline by William Shakespeare. This is a Libreivox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Act 2. Scene 1. Britain before Symbeline's palace. Enter Clotten and two lords. Was there ever, ma'am, had such luck.

When I kissed the Jack, upon an up-cad, to be hit away, I had a hundred pound on it, and then a horse-and-jack-nate must take me up for swearing, as if I borrowed my notes of him, I might not spend them at my pleasure. But got he by that, you have broke his paint with your bowl. If his wit had been like him that broke it, it would have run all out. When a gentleman is disposed to swam,

it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths. no my lord nor crop the years of them horseen dog i give him satisfaction what he have been one of my rank to have smelt like a fool i am not bet more than anything in the earth a pox on it i'd rather not be so noble as i am they do not fight with me because of the queen my mother Every jack's lame at the belly full of fighting, and I must go up and down, like a cock that nobody can match. You are a cock, and a cape on too, and you crow cock with your comb on.

Say it's down. It is not fit your lordship should undertake every companion that you give offence to. Nah, I know that, but it is meant I should commit offence to my... period. Aye, it is fit for your lordship only. Why, so I say. Did you hear of a stranger that comes to court tonight? A stranger, and I not know of it? He's a strange fellow himself, and knows it not. Oh, there's an Italian come, and tis thought one of Leonatus's friends. They are not as

Vech A banished Raskolman, he's another whatsoever he been Who told you of this stranger? One of your lordship's pages Is it fit I went to look upon him? Is there no derogation in it?

You cannot derogate, my lord? No, easily, I think. You are a a fool granted. Therefore your issues being foolish, do not derogate. Come, I'll go see this Italian. What I have lost today at Bowles, I went to-night of him. Come down. I'll attend your lordship. Exxiant clotten and first lord. That such a crafty devil as his mother should yield the world this ass, a woman that bears all down with her brain, and this her son, cannot take two from twenty for his heart and leave eighteen. Alas, poor princess, thou divine imageon, what thou

endurest. Betwixt a father, by thy step-dain governed, a mother, owly coining plots, a wooer, more hateful than the foul expulsion is of thy dear husband than that horrid act of the divorce he'll make. The heavens hold firm, the walls of thy dear honour, keep unshaked, that temple, thy fair mind, that thou may stand, to enjoy thy banished lord and this great land. Exit Scene two, Imogen's bedding,

chamber in Simmeline's palace, a trunk in one corner of it. Imogen in bed reading, a lady attending. Who's there? My woman Helen? Please you, madam. What hour is it? Almost midnight, madam. I have read three hours, then. My eyes are weak. Fold down the leaf where I have left. To bed. Take not. away the taper, leave it burning. And if thou canst awake by four of the clock, I prithee call me. Sleep has seized me wholly. Exit, lady. To your protection, I commend me, gods. From fairies and the tempters of the night, guard me, beseech ye. Sleeps. Yakimo comes from the trunk. The crickets sing,

And man's or laboured sense Repairs itself by rest. Ah, Tarquim, Thus did softly press the rushes, Ereakened the chastity he wounded, Sither ear, How bravely thou becomesst thy bed, Fresh, lily,

And whiter than the sheets, That I might touch but kiss, One kiss, Rubies, unparagoned, how dearly they do it tis her breathing that perfumes the chamber thus the flame of the taper bows to water and would under peep her lids to see the enclosed lights now canopied under these windows white and azure laced with blue of heaven's own thing but my design to note the chamber i will write all down such and such pictures there the window such the adornment of her bed the arras figures why such and such and the contents of the story ah but some natural notes about her body above ten thousand mean immovable would testify to enrich mine inventory or sleep thou ape of death lie dull upon her and be her sense but as a monument, thus in a chapel lying.

Come up, come off. Taking off her bracelet. As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard, tis mine, and this will witness outwardly as the conscience does within to the madding of her load. On her left breast, a mole sank spotted, like the crimson drop, near the bottom of a cast up, here's a virtue, stronger than ever law could make. This secret will force him think I have picked the lock, and tame the treasure of her honour, no more, to what end? Why should I write this down, that's riveted, screwed to my memory? She hath been reading, like,

the tale of Toreus, here the leaps turned down, where Fulamilome gave up. I have enough, to the trunk again, and shut the spring of it. Swip! Swip! You dragons of the night! That dawning may bear the raven's eye, I lodge in fear, though this a heavenly angel, hell, he's here. Clock strikes. One, two, three. Time, time, time. Goes into the trunk, the scene closes. Scene three, an antechamber adjoining Imogen's apartments.

enter Clotten and Lords Your Lordship Is the most patient man in loss The most coldest it ever turned up eight It would make any man cold to lose But not every man patient After the noble temper of your lordship You are most hot and furious

When you win Winning We'll put any man into courage If I could get this foolish image, I should have told enough. It's almost morning, is it not? Day, my lord. Oh, would this music would come. I am advised to give a music a morning.

They say it will penetrate. Enter musicians. Come on. tune if you can penetrate heart with your fingering so we'll try with tongue too if none will do let her remain but i'll never give off then a very excellent good conceited thing after a wonderful sweet air we admirable rich words to it. And then let her consider. Hark, hark the lark at Heaven's Gate sings,

And fever skins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chalist flowers that lies. And winking, Mary, buts begin To hope golden eyes with everything that pretty is my lady's sweet arise arise arise arise so get your gum it's this penetrate i will consider your music the better if it do not it is a vice in her ears which horse has and Carves guts, nor the voice of eunuch to boot, can never amend.

Exeunt musicians Here comes the king. I am glad I was up so late, for that's the reason I was up so worthy. It cannot choose but take this service I have done bathily. Enter Symbeline and Queen. Good, Mara, to your majesty. unto my gracious mother attend you hear the door of our stern daughter will she not forth i have assailed her with music but she vouchsakes down the exile of her minion is too new she hath not yet forgot him some more time must wear the print of his remembrance found and then she's yours you are most bound to the king who lets go by no vantages that may prefer you to his daughter frame yourself to orderly soliciting and be friended with aptness of the season

make denials increase your services so seem as if you were inspired to do those duties which you tender to her that you in all obey her save when command to your dismission tense and therein you are senseless thanks and so not so enter a messenger so like you sir ambassadors from rome the one is caius lucius a worthy fellow i'll be it come on angry purpose now but that's no fault of his we must receive him according to the honour of his sender and towards himself his goodness was spent on us we must extend our notice our dear son when you have given good morning to your mistress attend the queen and us we shall have need to employ you towards this roman come our queen exeunt all but clotten if she be up i'll speak with her if not well let her lie still and dream boy you leave ho ho i know where women are about her what if i do line one of their hands tis gold which buys admittance of it doth gay and makes diana's rangers false themselves yield up their deer to the stand of the stealer and tis gold which makes the true man killed and saves the thief nay sometime hangs both thief and true man what can it not do and undo i will make one of a women lawyer to me for I yet not understand the case myself.

By your leave! Enter a lady. Who's there that knocks? A gentleman? No more? Yes, and a gentlewoman, son! That's more than some, whose tailors are as dear as yours can justly boast of. What's your lordship's pleasure?

Your lady's person, is she ready? ay to keep a chamber there is gone for you so me your good report how my good name ought to report of you what i shall think is good the princess enter imogen good morrow fairest sister your sweet hand exit lady good morrow good morrow sir your sweet hand exit lady good morrow sir you lay out too much pains for purchasing but trouble the thanks i give is telling you that i am poor of thanks and scarce can spare them still i swear i love you if you but said so twere as deep with me if you swear still your recompense is still that i regard it not this is no answer but that you shall not say i yield being silent i would not speak. I pray you, spare me. Faith I shall unfold equal discourtesy to your best kindness. One of your great knowing should learn being taught forbearance. To leave you in your madness twirl my sin, I will not. Fools cure not mad, folks. Do you call me? Pooh! As I am mad, I do, as I am mad,

I do. If you'll be patient, I'll no more be mad. That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir, you put me to forget a lady's manners by being so verbal, and learn now for all that I, which know my heart, do here pronounce by the very truth of it, I care not for you. And I am so near the lack of charity to accuse myself. I hate you. I hate you. which I had rather you felt than make it my boast. You sing against obedient, which you owe your father. For the contract you pretend with that base wretch, one bread of arms,

and fostered with cold dishes with scraps of the court, it is no contract none, though it be allowed in meaner parties. Yay, who than he more mean. to knit their souls on whom there is no more dependency but brats and beggary in so figure not yet you are curbed from that enlargement by the consequence of the cram and must not soil the precious note of it with a base slave a hilding for a livery a squire's cloth a pant-land not so eminent Were thou the son of Jupiter, and no more but what thou art besides. Thou were too base to be his groom.

Thou were dignified enough even to the point of envy, if it were made comparative for your virtues to be styled the under-hengman of his kingdom, and hated for being preferred so well. The sound-pog rotten! He never can meet more mischance than come to be but named of thee. his meanest garment that ever hath but clipped his body is dearer in my respect than all the hairs above thee were they all made such men how now pisanyo enter he's garment ohoho now the devil to dorothy my woman hydie presently he's garment i am sprighted with a fool frighted and angered worse go bid my woman search for a jewel that too casually hath left my arm it was thy masters

shrew me if i would lose it for a revenue of any kings in europe i do think i saw it this morning confident i am last night was on mine arm i kissed it i hope it be not gone to tell my lord that i kiss aught but ye twill not be lost i hope so go and search exit you have abused me is meanest garment i i said so sir if you will make it in action call witness to it i will inform your father Your mother, too. She's my good lady, and will conceive, I hope, but the worst of me. So, I'll leave you, sir, to the worst of discontent. Exit. Opie revenge. He's seen as common.

Well. Exit. Scene four. Rome. Philario's house And the posthumus and Philario Fear it not, sir. I would I were so sure to win the king

As I am bold, her honour will remain hers. What means do you make to him? Not any, but abide the change of time, Quake in the present winter's state, And wish that warmer days would come. In these feared hopes, I barely gratify your love. They failing, I must die much, sure that her. Your very goodness and your company, or pays all I can do, by this your king hath

heard of great Augustus. Caius Lusius will do's commission throughly, and I think he'll grant the tribute, send their eerieges, or look upon our Romans, whose remembrance is yet fresh in their grief. I do believe, status though I have none, no like to be, that this will be approve a war, and you shall hear the legions now in Gallia sooner landed and are not fearing Britain than have tidings of any penny tribute paid. Our countrymen are men more ordered than when Julius Caesar smiled at their lack of skill, but found their courage worthy his frowning at. Their discipline, now mingled with their courage, will make known to their approvers they are people such that mend upon the world. Enter Yakimo. See, Yakimo!

The swiftest hearts have posted you by land, and winds of all the colonists kissed your sails to make your vessel nimble. Welcome, sir! I hope the briefness of your answer made the speediness of your return. Your lady, is one of the fairest that I have looked upon. And there with all the best, or let your beauty look through a casement to allure false hearts and be false with them. Here are letters for you. Their ten are good, I trust. tis very like was caius lucius in the briton court when you were there he was expected them but not approached all is well yet sparkles a stone as it was wont or is not too dull for your good wearing if i had lost it i should have lost the worth of it in gold i'll make a journey twice as far to enjoy a second night of such sweet shortness which was my

in Britain for the ring is won. The stone's too hard to come by. Not a wit, your lady, being so easy. Make not, sir, you'll lost your sport. I hope you know that we must not continue friends. Good, sir, we must, if you keep covenant. Had I not brought the knowledge of your mistress home, I grant, we were to question further,

but I now profess myself the winner of her honour, together with your ring, and not the wronger of her, or you, having proceeded but by both your will. If you can make apparent my hand, and ring is yours. If not, the foul opinion you heard of her pure honour gains or loses your sword, or mine, or masterless leaves both to who shall find them. sir my circumstances being so near the truth as i will make them must first induce you to believe whose strength i will confirm with oath which i doubt not you'll give me leave to spare when you shall find you need it not proceed thus her bed-chamber where i confess i slept not but profess that was well worth watching it was hanged with tapestry of silk and silver the story proud cleopatra when she met her roman and sydna swelled above the banks or for the press of boats or pride a piece of work so bravely dumb so rich that it did strive in workmanship and value which I wondered, could be so rarely and exactly wrote, since the true life one it was. This is true, and this you might have heard of here, by me or by some other. More particulars must justify my knowledge.

So they must, or do your honour injury. The chimney is south the chamber, and the chimney-piece chased Diane bathing. Never saw eye-figures so likely to report themselves, the cutter was as another nature dumb outwinter motion and breath left out this is a thing which you might from relation likewise reap being as it is much spoke of the roof of a chamber with golden cherubins is fretted her and irons i had forgot them were two winking cupids of silver each on one foot standing nicely depending on their brands this is her honour let it be grant that you have seen all this and praise be given to your remembrance the description of what is in her chamber nothing saves the wager you have laid then if you can showing the bracelet be pale i beg you leave to air this duel see and now it is up again it must be married to that your diamond i'll keep them jove once more let me behold it is it that which i left with her sir i thank her that she stripped it from her arm i see her yet her pretty action did outsell her gift and yet enriched it too she gave it me and said she prized it once

maybe she plucked it off descended me as she writes so to you doth she oh no no no tis true here take this too. Gives the ring. It is a basilis unto mine eye. Cills me to look on. Let there be no honour where there is beauty. Truth, wear semblance, love where there's another man. The vows of women of no more bondage be

to where they are made than they are to their virtues, which is nothing. Oh, above measure false. Help patience, sir, and take your ring again. It is not yet one. It may be probable she lost it, or who knows, if one of her women being corrupted hath stolen it from her. Very true, and so I hope he came by it. Back my ring, ran it to me some corporal sign about her, more evident than this, for this was stolen. By Jupiter, I heard it from her arm.

Hark you, he swears, by Jupiter he swears. Tis true. Nay, keep the ring, tis true. I am sure she would not lose it. Her attendants are all sworn and honourable. They induced to steal it. And by a stranger, no, he hath enjoyed her. There, take thy hire, and all the fiends of hell divide themselves between you.

Sir, be patient. This is not strong enough to be believed it, of one persuaded well of... Never talk on't. If you seek for further satisfying, under her breast, worthy the pressing, lies a mole, right proud at that most delicate lodging. By my life I kissed it, and it gave me present hunger to feed again, though full. You do remember this stain upon her. and it doth confirm another stain as big as hell can hold were there no more but it will you hear more spare your arithmetic never count the turns once and a million I'll be sworn no swearing if you will swear you have not done to you lie oh that I had her here to tear her limb meal I will go there and do it in the

court before her father. I'll do something. Exit. Quite besides the government of patience, you have won. Let's follow him and pervert the present wrath he has against himself. With all my heart. Exeunt Scene 5. Another room in Philarius' house. Enter posthumus.

Could I find out the woman's part in me? For there's no emotion that tends to vice in man, but I affirm it is the woman's part. Be it lying, note it to the woman's. Flattering, hers, deceiving, hers, lust and the rank thoughts. Hers, hers, revengers, hers. Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain, nice longing, slanders, mutability of faults that may be named. Nay, that hell knows,

are like hairs and part or all. But rather all, for even to vice, they are not constant, but are changing still one vice, but of a minute old, for one not half so old as that. I'll write against them, detest them, curse them.

Yet is greater. skill and a true hate, to pray they have their will. The very devils cannot plague them better. Exit End of Act 2. Act 3 of Symbalin by William Shakespeare. This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain.

For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Act 3. Scene 1 Britain, a hall in Symbeline's palace. Enter in state, Symbeline, Queen, Clotten and Lords at one door, and at another, Cias Lucius and Attendance. Now say, What would Augustus Caesar with us?

When Julius Caesar, whose remembrance yet lives in men's eyes, and will to ears and tongues be theme and hearing ever, was in this Britain and conquered it. Cusibion, thine uncle, famous in Caesar's praises, now it left and in his feet deserving it. The hymn and his succession granted Rome a tribute,

yearly three thousand pounds, which by thee lately is left undendered. And to kill the mother, shall be so ever there be many caesars there's such another julius britain is a world by itself and we will nothing pay for wearing our own noses that opportunity which then they had to take from us to resume we have again remember sir my liege the kings your ancestors together with the natural bravery of your ire which stands as neptune's park ribbed and paled in with rocks unscalable and roaring waters with sands that will not bear your enemy's boats but suck them up to the top mast a kind of conquest caesar made here but made not hear his brag of came and saw and overcame with shame the first that ever touched him he was carried from off our coast twice beaten and his shipping poor ignorant baubles on our terrible seas like egg-shells moved upon their surges cracked as easily against our rocks

for joy whereof the famed casibulan who was once at point o jiggled fortune to master caesar's sword made ludstown with rejoicing fires bright and britain strut with courage come there's no more tribute to be paid our kingdom is stronger than it was at that time and as i said there is no more such scissors other of them may have crooked noses but to owe such straight arms son let your mother end we have yet many among us can group as hard as Casabellan. I do not say I am one, but I have a hand. Why, tribute? Why should we pay tribute? If Caesar can hide the sun from us with a blanket

or put the moon in his pocket, we will pay him tribute for light. Else, sir, no more tribute. you pray you now you must know till the injurious romans did extort this tribute from us we were free caesar's ambition which swelled so much that it did almost stretch the sides of the world against all colour here did put the yoke upon us which to shake off becomes a warlike people which we reckon ourselves to be we do say then to caesar our ancestor was that mulmuteus which ordained our laws whose use the sword of caesar hath too much mangled whose repair and franchise shall by the power we hold be a good deed though rome be therefore angry more mutius made our laws who was the first of britain which did put his brows within a golden crown and called himself a king

i am sorry simbelin that i am to pronounce augustus caesar caesar that hath more kings his servants than thyselfdomestic officers thine enemy received from me then war and confusion in caesar's name pronounce i against thee look for fury not to be resisted thus defied i thank thee for myself thou art welcome caius thy caesar knighted me my youth i spent much under him of him had gathered honour which he to seek of me again perforce behoves me keep at utterance i am perfect that the pannonians and dalmatians for their liberties are now in arms a precedent which not to read would show the britons cold so caesar shall not find them let proof speak his majesty bids you welcome make past time with us a day or two or longer if you seek us afterwards in other terms here shall find us in a salt-water girdle ha ha ha ha ha ha if you beat us out of it it is yours if you fall in the adventure a crow shall bear the better for you and there's an end. So, sir, I know your master's pleasure and he mine. All the remain is welcome. Exxuned. Scene two. Another room in the palace, and a Pisanyo with a letter.

How? Of a adultery? Wherefore write you not? What monsters here accuser? Leonatus? Oh, master, what a strange infection Is fallen into thy ear What false Italian As poisonous tongueed as handed Hath prevailed On thy too ready hearing Disloyal? No!

She's punished for her truth And undergoes more goddess-like than wife-like Such assults as would take in some virtue Oh, my master Thy mind to her is now as low, as were thy fortunes. How, that I should murder her upon the love and truth and vows

which I have made to thy command? I her, her blood! If it be so to do good service, never let me be counted serviceable. How look I that I should seem to lack humanity? So much as this fact comes to. Do it, the letter that I have. have sent her, by her own command

she'll give the opportunity. Oh, damn it paper, black as the ink that's on the senseless bauble! Art thou a fieodori for this act? And looks'dst so virgin like without. Lo, here she comes, I am ignorant in what I am commanded.

Enter Imogen. How now, Pisanyu? Madam, here is a letter from my lord. Who? Thy lord? That is my lord. Leonatus. O learned indeed were that astronomer

That knew the stars as I his characters. He'd laid a future open. You good gods, Let what is here contained relish of love, Of my lord's health, Of his content. Yet not that we two are asunder. Let that grieve him.

Some grieves are medicineable. That is one of them. for it doth physic love of his content all but in that good wax thy leave blessed be you beasts that make these locks of counsel lovers and men in dangerous bonds pray not alike though forfeiters you cast in prison yet you clasp young cupid's tables good news gods reads justice and your father's wrath should he take me in his dominion could not be so cruel to me as you, oh, the dearest of creatures, would even renew me with your eyes. Take notice that I am in Cambria, at Milford Haven, what your own love will out of this advice you follow, so he wishes you all happiness that remains loyal to his vow, and you're increasing in love, Leonatus posthumous.

oh for a horse with wings here'st thou pisanyo he is at milford haven read and tell me how far this thither if one of mean affairs may plod it in a week why may not i glide thither in a day then true pisanyo who longst like me to see thy lord who longst o let me bait but not like me yet longst but in a fainter kind oh not like me for minds beyond beyond say and speak thick love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing to the smothering of the sense how far it is to this same blessed milford and by the way tell me how wales was made so happy as to inherit such a haven but first of all how we may steal from hands and for the gap that we shall make in time from our hands going and our return to excuse but first how get hands why should excuse be born or ear be got we'll talk of that hereafter. Preety speak. How many score of miles may we well ride twixt hour and hour? One score twixt son and son, madam, it's enough for you. And too much too. Why, one that road to his execution man could never go so slow. I have heard of riding wages, where horses have been nimbler than the sands that run in the clock's behalf. But this is

foolery. Go bid my woman feign a sickness. say she'll home to her father, and provide me presently a riding suit, no costlier than would fit a Franklin's housewife. Madam, you'll best consider. I see before me, man, nor here, nor here, nor what ensues, but have a fog in them that I cannot look through. Away, I prithee, do as I bid thee. There's no more to say.

Accessible is none but Milford way. Exxient Scene 3 Wales A mountainous country with a cave Enter from the cave Ballarius, Gvidarius and Arvaregas following

A goodly day Not to keep house, with such whose roofs as low as ours Stoop boys This gate instructs you how To adore the heavens and bows you To a morning's holy office The gates of monarchs are arched so high

That giants may jet through And keep their impious turbans on Without good morrow to the sun Hail thou fair heaven We house thither rocks Yet use thee not so hardly As prouder livers do Hail heaven

Hail heaven Now for our mountain sport Up to yonder hill your legs are young, I'll tread these flats. Consider, when you above perceive me like a crow, that is a place which lessens and sets off. And you may then revolve what tales I have told you, of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war. This service is not service, so being done, but being so allowed To apprehend thus

Draws us A profit from all things we see And often To our comfort shall we find The sharded beagle In a safer hold Than is the full winged eagle Or this life is nobler than attending

For a cheque Richer than doing nothing for a bribe Prouder than rustling In unpaid for silk Such gain the cap of him that makes him fine, yet keeps his book uncrossed, no life to ours.

Out of your proof, you speak, we poor unfledged, have never winged from view of the nest, nor know not what airs from home. Happily this life is best, if quiet life be best, sweeter to you that have a sharper known, well, corresponding with your stiff age,

but unto us it is a cell of ignorance, travelling a bed, a prison for a debtor, that not dares to stride a limit. What should we speak of when we are old as you? When we shall hear the rain and wind be dark December, how, in this hour pinching cave, shall we discourse the freezing hours away? We have seen nothing.

We are beastly, subtle as the fox will prey, like warlike as the wolf for what we eat. our ballad is to chase what flies Arcade we make a choir Stop the present bird And sing our bondage freely How you speak Did you but know the city's usuries

And felt them knowingly The art of the court As hard to leave as keep Whose top to climb is certain Falling Or so slippery that the fears as bad as falling The toil of the war A pain that only seems

To seek out danger In the name of fame And honour Which dies in 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? Must courtesy at the censure Oh boys This story the world may read in me My body's marked with Roman swords, and my report was once, first, with the best of note. Symbeline loved me, and when a soldier was the theme, my name was not far off. Then was I as a tree whose bows did bend with fruit. But in one night, a storm of robbery,

call it what you will, shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, and left me bare to weather. Uncertain favour My fault being nothing, As I have told you oft, But that two villains Whose false oaths prevailed Before my perfect honour Swore to Symbaline

I was confederate With the Romans So followed my banishment And this twenty years This rock And these domains have been my world Where I have lived At honest freedom

paid more pious debts to heaven than in all the fore-end of my time. But up to the mountains, this is not hunter's language. He that strikes, the venison thirst shall be the lord of the feast. To him the other two shall minister. And we will fear no poison, which attends in place of greater state. I'll meet you in the valleys. Exeunt with Arias and Avaregous how hard it is to hide the sparks of nature.

These boys know little they are sons to the king, nor symboline dreams that they are alive. They think they are mine, and they'll train it up thus meanly, either cave wherein they bow their thoughts do hit the roofs of palaces, and nature prompts them in simple, and low things to prince it much beyond the tricks of others. This Polydor, the air of Symbeline and Britain,

Who the king his father called Giderius. Jove, when on my three-foot stool I sit and tell The warlike feats I have done, His spirits fly out into my stories. Say, Thus mine enemy fell, and thus I set my foot on his neck. Even then, the princely blood flows in his cheek. He sweats, strains his young nerves and puts himself in posture that acts my words.

The younger brother Cadwell, once Aviragas, Inas like a figure strikes life into my speech and shows much more, his own conceiving. Hark, the game is roused. Oh, Symboline, heaven and my conscience knows thou didst unjustly banish me. Whereon, at three and two years old I stupt. these babes, thinking to bar thee of succession, as thou refts me of my lands. Urethelie, thou wast their nurse. They took thee for their mother, and every day to honour to her grave. Myself, Belerius, that Am Morgan call it, they take for natural father.

The game is up. Exit Scene 4. Country near Milford Haven and the pisano and imogen thou toldst me when we came from horse the place was near at hand never longed my mother so to see me first as i have now pisano man where is posthumus what is in thy mind that makes thee stare thus wherefore breaks that sigh from the inward of thee one but painted thus would be interpreted a thing perplexed beyond self-explication put thyself into a behavior of less fear e'er wildness vanquish my stater senses what is the matter why tendrous thou that paper to me with a look untender if be some on use smiled to it before. If winterly, thou needst but keep that countenance still. My husband's hand. That drug damned Italy has outcrafted him, and he's at some hard point.

Speak, man. Thy tongue may take off some extremity, which to read would be even mortal to me. Please you, read, and you shall find me wretched, man. A thing, the most disdainee of fortune. Imogen reads, Thy mistress Pisanyo Had played the trumpet in my bed The testimonies were of 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 Pisano 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 the 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 pender to her dishonour And equally to me disloyal What shall I need to draw my sword The paper hath cut her throat already No, tis slander, Whose edge is sharper than the sword, Whose tongue out venems all the worms of Nile, Whose breath rides on the posting winds, And doth belie all corners of the world. Kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave, This viprous slander enters. What cheer, madam!

Falls to his bed? What is it to be false? To lie in watch there and to think on him? To weep, twixt clock and clock? If sleep charged nature, to break it with a fearful dream of him, and cry myself awake, that's false to his bed, is it? The last good lady. Aye, false.

Thy conscience witness. Yekimo, thou didst accuse him of incontinency. Thou then looks like a vizabeth. villain, now me thinks thy favours good enough. Some J. of Italy, whose mother was her painting, hath betrayed him. Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion, and, for I am richer than to hang by the walls, I must be ripped, to pieces with me. O man's vows are women's traitors, all good seeming, by thy revolt or husband,

shall be thought put on for villainy. Not born where it grows, But worn, abate for ladies. Good madam, hear me! True honest man being heard, Like false Ineus, Were in his time thought false, And Sinan, sweeping did scandal many a holy tear,

Took pity from most true wretchedness. So thou posthumous Will lay the leaven on all proper men. Goodly and gallant shall be false and purge, from thy great fail come fellow be thou honest do thou thy master's bidding when thou seest him a little witness my obedience look i draw the sword myself take it and hit the innocent mansion of my love my heart fear not tis empty of all things but grief thy master is not there who was indeed the riches of it do his bidding strike Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause, but now thou seem'st the coward. Hence, vile instrument, thou shalt not damn my hand. Why, I must die, and if I do not by thy hand, thou art no servant of thy masters.

Against self-slaughter there is a prohibition so divine that cravence my weak hand. Come, here's my heart, something's afore it, soft, soft, will no defaithful, hence, obedient as the scabbard. What is here? The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus all turned to heresy. Away, away corruptors of my faith. You shall no more be stomacus to my heart. Thus may poor fools believe false teachers. Though those that are betrayed do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor stands in worse case of woe. And thou posthumous, thou that didst set up my disobedience against the king my father, and make me put into contempt the suits of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find it is no act of common passage but a strain of rareness.

And I grieve myself to think, when thou shalt be desegged by her that now thou tithed on, how thy memory will then be panked by me. Pretty, dispatch, the lemon treats the butcher. Where's thy knife? thou are too slow to do thy master's bidding when I desire it too. Oh, gracious lady, since I received this command to do this business, I have not slept one wink. Do it, and to bed then.

I'll wake mine eyeballs blind first. Wherefore then didst undertake it? Why hast thou abused so many miles with a pretense? This place, mine action and thine own. Our horse is labour, the time inviting thee, the perturbed court for my being absent, whereunto I never purpose return, why hast thou gone so far

to be unbent when thou hast taken thy stand, the elected dear before thee? But to win time, to lose so bad employment, in the which I have considered of a course, good lady, hear me with patience. Talk thy tongue weary. Speak. I have heard I am a strumpet, and mine ear, therein fall struck, can take no greater wound, nor tend to bottom that. But speak.

Then, madam, I thought you would not back again. Most like, bringing me here to kill me. Not so, neither. But if I were as wise as honest, then my purpose would prove well. It cannot be. but that my master is abused. Some villain, aye, and singular in his art, hath done you both this cursed injury. Some Roman courtesan. No, on my life, I'll give,

but notice you are dead and sent him, some bloody sign of it. For tis commanded I should do so, you shall be missed at court, and that will well confirm it. Why, good fellow, what shall I? do the while, where bide, how live, or in my life what comfort when I am dead to my husband? If you're back to the court?

No court, no father, nor no more ado with that hush, noble, simple, nothing, that clotten, whose love suit has been to me as fearful as a siege. If not at court, then not in Britain, must you bide? Where then? Has Britain all the son that she shall? shines. Day, night, are they not but in Britain? In the world's volume our Britain seems as of it, but not in it. In a great pool a swan's nest. Pretty, think their slivers out of Britain. I am most glad you think of other place. The ambassador, Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford Haven tomorrow. Now, if you could wear a mind dark as your fortune is, and but disguise, that which

To appear itself must not yet be, but by self-danger, you should tread a course, pretty and full of view, yea, happily near the residence of posthumous. So nigh at least that though his actions were not visible, yet report should render him hourly to your ear, as truly as he moves. Oh, for such means, though peril to my modesty, not death on it, I would adventure. Well then here's the point. You must forget to be a woman. Change command into obedience, fear and niceness. The handmaids of all women, all more truly, woman in pretty self, into a waggish courage. Ready and jibes, quick-answered, saucy, and as quarreless as the weasel. Nay, you must forget that rarest treasure of your cheek. Exposing it, but oh, the harder heart. Alack, no remedy, to the greedy touch of common kissing Titan, And forget your laborsome and dainty trims, wherein you made great Juno angry. May be brief, I see into thy end, and I'm almost a man already.

First, make yourself but like one, for thinking this I have already fit. It is in my club bag, doublet, hat, holes, all the answers to them. would you in their serving, and with what imitation you can borrow, from youth of such a season, for noble Lucius, present yourself, desire his service, tell him we're in your happy, which you'll make him know, if that his head have eerie music, doubtless with joy he will embrace you, for he is honourable, and doubling that most holy. Your means abroad, you have me rich, and I will never fail, beginning nor supplyment. Thou art all the comfort the gods will diet with me.

Prithee, away, there's more to be considered, but we'll even all that good time will give us. This attempt I am soldier to, and will abide it with a prince's courage. Away, I pray thee. Well, madam, we must take a short farewell. lest being missed I be suspected of your carriage from the court. My noble mistress, here is a box. I had it from the queen. What's in it is precious.

If you are sick at sea or stomach qualmed at land, a dram of this would drive away distemper. To some shade and fit you to your manhood. May the gods direct you to the best. Amen. I thank thee. Exxon severally. scene five a room in simberline's palace enter cymbeline queen clotten luscious lords and attendants

thus far and so farewell thanks royal sir my emperor hath wrote i must from hence and i'm right sorry that i must report ye my master's enemy our subjects sir will not endure his yoke and for ourselves to show less sovereignty than they must needs appear unkinglike so sir i desire of you a conduct overland to milford haven madam all joy before your grace and you my lord you are appointed for that office the jew of honour in no point omit so farewell noble lucius your hand my lord receive it friendly but from this time, Paul, I wear it as your enemy. Sir, the event is yet to name the winner. There you will. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good, my lord,

till he have crossed the seven. Happiness! Exxient Lucius and Lords. He goes hence frowning, but it honors us that we have given him cause. Tis all the better. You valiant Britons have their wishes in it. Lucius hath wrote already to the Emperor how it goes here.

It fits us therefore rightly 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. Tis not sleepy business. but must be looked too speedily and strongly. Our expectation that it would be thus hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen, where is our daughter?

She hath not appeared before the Roman, nor to us has tended the duty of the day. She looks us like a thing more made of malice than a duty. We have noted it. call her before us for we have been too slight insufferance exit and attendant royal sir since the exile of posthumus most retired 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

re-enter attendant Where is she, sir? How can her contempt to be answered? Please you sir, her chambers are all locked And there's no answer That will be given To the loudest of noise we make

My lord When Lester went to visit her She prayed me to excuse her Keeping close were too constrained by her infirmity, she should that duty leave unpaid to you which daily she was bound to proffer. This she wished me to make known,

but our great court made me to blame in memory. The doors locked, not seenably, grant heavens, that which I fear prooffuls. Exit. Son, I say, follow the king. that man of hers pisanio are old servant i've not seen these two days go look after exit clotten pizanio thou that stands so for posthumus 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 will Where is she gone?

Happily despair has seized her, or winged with fervor of her love, she's flown to her desired posthumus. Gone she is, to death or to dishonor. And my end can make good use of either. She being down, I have the placing of the British crown. Re-enter Clotten.

How now, my son? Tid certain, she is flagged. Go in and cheer the king, he rages. None there come about him. Queen, aside, All the better, may this knight forestall him of the coming day. Exit. Oh, love, am data.

for she's fair and royal and that she had all courtly parts more exquisite than lady ladies woman from every one the best she had and she have all compounded out-soules them all i love her therefore but disdaining me and throwing favours on the low posthumous slander so a judgment that what else rare is choked and in that point i will conclude to hater nay indeed to be revenged a father for an fool shope enter pisanio who is here what are you packing sirrah come ato no ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha You, percious panda, Bullion, where is thy lady? In a wood, or else they are straightway with the beans.

Oh, good, my lord. Where is thy lady? Oh, poor Jupiter, I won't not ask again, close villain, half of this secret from the heart, or rep thy heart to find it. Is she with posthumous?

Removes so many weights of bishness, cannot a dram of worth be drawn. alas my lord how can she be with him when was she miss it he is in rome where is she sir come near her oh no further halting satisfy me home what is become of her oh my all-worthy lord all-worthy villain discover whether mistress is at once of the next word no more of who worthy Lord, speak, or thy silence on the instant is thy condemnation and thy death. Then, sir, this paper is the history of my knowledge touching her flight. Presenting a letter. Matt, see it.

I will pursue her, even to Augustus throne. Pisano aside. Or this or perish. She is far enough, and what he learned by this may prove his travel, not her. danger. Hmm. I'll write to my lord, she's dead. Oh, Imogen,

safe mayest thou wander, safe return again. Sir, is this that a true? Sir, as I think. It is, boss, deemus hand. I know it. Sir,

sir, if I would not be a bullum, but do me true service, undergo those employments, wherein I should have cause to use thee With a serious industry That is, what villainy So ere I bid thee do To perform it directly and truly

I would think thee an honest, ma'am Thou should neither want my means For thy relief, nor my voice For thy procurement. Well, my good lord! Will thou serve me, For since, patiently and constantly Thou hast ducked to the bare fortune

Of that beggar posthumous thou canst not in the cause of gratitude, but be a diligent follower of mine, wilt thou serve me? Sir, I will. Give me thy hand. Here's my purse. Asked any of thy late master's garments in thy possession.

Now have, my lord, at my lodgings, the same suit he wore when he took leave of my lady and mistress. The first service thou dost me. Fetch that suit hither. Let it be thy first service. go. I shall, my lord. Exit.

Meet thee at Milford Haven. I forgot to ask him one thing. I remember it an nun. Even their... The villain, posthumous. Will I kill thee? I would these garments were come. She said upon a time,

the bitterness of it on her pelt from my heart. the cheater held the buried garment of posthumus in more respect for my noble and natural person together with the adornment of my qualities with that suit upon my back will i ravish her first kill him and in her eyes there shall she see my valour which will then be a torment to her contend he on the ground my speech of insultment ended on his dead body to the court i'll knock her back foot her home again she hath despised me rejoicingly and i'll be merry in my revenge re-enter pisanyo with the clothes be those the garments ay my noble lord how long is it since she went to milford aben she can scarce be there yet bring this apparel to my chamber that is the second thing that i have commanded thee the third is that thou would be a voluntary mute to my design be but dutious and true purpurement shall tender itself to thee my revenge is now at milford wood i had wings to follow it come and be true exit Thou bids me to my loss,

For true to thee were to prove false, Which I will never be. To him, that is most true to Milford go, And find not her whom thou pursuest, Flow, flow, You heavenly blessings on her, This full speed, Be cross it with slowness,

Labour be his mead. Exit Scene 6 Wales before the cave of Ballarius. Enter Imogen in boys' clothes. I see a man's life is a tedious one. I have tired myself, and for two nights together have made the ground my bed.

I should be sick, but that my resolution helps me. Milford, when from the mountaintop Pisano showed thee, thou wast within a ken. O Jove, I think foundations fly the wretched, Such, I mean, where they should be relieved. Two beggars told me I could not miss my way. Will poor folks lie, that have afflictions on them, knowing tis a punishment or trial?

Yes, no wonder, when which one scarce tell true, To lapse in fullness is soarer than to lie for need, and falsehood is worse in kings than beggars. My dear Lord, thou art one of the false ones. Now I think on thee my hunger's gone. But even before I was at point to sink for food. But what is this? Here is a path to it.

Tis some savage hold? I will best not call. I dare not call. Yet famine, ear clean it over throw nature, makes it valiant. Plenty and peace breeds cowards. Hardness ever of hardiness is mother. Ho! Who's here? If anything that civil, speak? If savage, take or lend? Ho? No answer. Then I'll enter. Best draw my sword. And if mine enemy but fear the sword like me, he'll scarcely look on it. Such a foe, good heavens.

Exit to the cave. Enter Ballarius, Guiderius and Arviraegus. You, Polydor, have proved best woodman and our master of the feast. Cadwell and I will play the cook and servant. Tis our match. The sweat of industry would dry and die, but for the end it works too. Come, our stomachs will make what's homely savoury. weariness can snore upon the flint when resty sloth finds the down pillow hard now peace be here poor house that keeps thyself i am truly weary i am weak with toil yet strong in appetite

there is called me to the cave we'll browse on that whilst what we have killed be cooked valerius looking into the cave stay come not in. But that it eats our victuals, I should think here were a fairy. What's the matter, sir? By Jupiter, an angel, or if not an earthly paragon. Behold, divineness no elder than a boy.

Re-enter Imogen. Good masters, harm me not. Before I entered here, I called, and thought to have begged or bought what I have took. good troth i have stole naught nor would not though i had found gold strewed in the floor here's money for my meat i would have left it on the board so soon as i had made my meal and parted with prayers for the provider money youth all gold and silver rather tend to dirt has tis no better reckoned but of those who worship dirty gods i see you're angry no if you kill me for my fault i should have died had i not made it with a bound to milford haven what's your name fidele sir i have a kinsman who is bound for italy he embarked at milford to whom being going almost spent with hunger I am fallen in this offence. Pretty fair youth, think us no churls nor measure our good

minds by this rude place we live in. Well encountered. Tis almost night you shall have better cheer here you depart, and thanks to stay and eat it. Boys, bid him welcome. Where are you a woman, youth, I should woo hard but be your groom and honesty. I bid for you they do by i'll make it my comfort he is a man i'll love him as my brother and such a welcome as i'd give to him after long absence such is yours most welcome i'll be spright before you fall mongst friends mongst friends if brothers would it had been so that they had been my father's sons then had my price been less and so more equal ballasting to the posthumous. He rings at some distress. What I could free it.

Are I, what e'er it be, what pain it cost, what danger, gods? Hark, boys! Whispering. Great man that had a court no bigger than this cave, that did attend themselves and had the virtue which their own conscience sealed them, laying by that nothing gift of differing multitudes could not out peer these twain. Pardon me, gods, I change my sex to be companion with them, since Leonatus falls. It shall be so. Boys, we'll go dress our hunt. Fair youth come in. Discourse is heavy, fasting.

When we have supped, we'll mannerly demand thee of thy story, so far as thou will speak it. Pray Dronier. The knight to the owl and mourn to the luck, less welcome. Thanks, sir. I pray drawn near. Exxon Scene 7. Rome, a public place.

Enter two senators and tribunes. This is a tenor of the Emperor's writ, that since the common men are now in action against the Penorians and and Dalmatians, and that the legions now in Galia are full weak to undertake our wars against the fallen our Britons, that we do incite the gentry to this business. He creates Lucius Pro-Counsel, and to you the tribunes, for this immediate levy, he commends his absolute commission. Long live Caesar. Is Lucius a general of the forces? I. Remaining now, in Galia?

With those legions which I have spoke of, whereunto your levy must be. be suppliant. The words of your commission will tie you to the numbers in the time of their dispatch. We will discharge our duty. Exeunt. End of Act 3. Act 4 of Symbeline by William Shakespeare. This is a Librivox recording. All Librivox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org. Scene 1. Wales, near the cave of Ballarius. Enter Clotten.

I am near to the place where they should meet. If Pisonio have mapped it truly. How fit his garment served me! Why should his mistress, who was made by him that made the tailor not be fit too? the rather saving reverence of the word for tis said a woman's fitness comes for fits they're in i must play the work man i dare speak it to myself for it is not vain-glory for a man and his glass to confer in his own chamber i mean the lines of my body as well drawn as his no less young

more strong not beneath him in fortunes beyond him in the advantage of the time of him in birth are like conversant in general services and more remarkable in single oppositions yet this impercivorant thing loves him in my despite what mortality is posthumous thy head which now is growing upon thy shoulders shall within this hour be off thy mistress enforced the garments cut to pieces before thy face and all this done Spurna home to her father Who may Halfley be a little angry For my so rough usage But my mother

Having power of his testinacy Shall turn all into my commendations My horse is tied up safe out, sword, and to a sore purpose. Fortune, put them into my hand. This is the very description of their meeting place, and the fellow dares not deceive me. Exit

Scene 2 Before the Cave of Ballarius Enter from the cave, Ballarius, Guiderius, Arviraeus and Imogen. Ballarius to Imogen. You are not well. Remain here in the cave. We'll come to you after hunting.

Brother, stay here. Are we not, brothers? So man and man should be. But clay and clay differs in dignity, whose dust is both alike. I am very sick. Go you to hunting. I'll abide with him.

so sick i am not yet i am not well but not so citizen a wanton as to seem to die he is sick so please you leave me stick to your journal course the breach of custom is breach of all i am ill but your being by me cannot amend me society is no comfort to one not sociable i am not very sick since i can reason of it pray you trust me here i am not very sick since i can reason of it pray you trust me here i am I'll rob none but myself, and let me die stealing so poorly. I love thee. I have spoke it. How much the quantity, the weight as much as I do love my father. What? How, how, how? If it be sinned to say so, sir, I yoked me and my good brother's fault.

I know not why I love this youth, and I have heard you say love's reasons without reason. the bea at door, and a demand to which shall die, I'd say, my father, not this youth. O noble strain, O worthiness of nature, breed of greatness. Cowards, father, cowards, and base things sire base. Nature hath meal and bran contempt and grace. I'm not their father. Yet who this should be doth miracle itself loved before me. Tis the ninth hour of the morn.

brother farewell i wish you sport you health so please you sir these are kind creatures gods what lies i have heard our courtiers say all savage but at court experience oh thou disprovest report the imperious seas breed monsters for the dish poor tributary rivers as sweet fish i am sick still heart sick pisan you i'll no taste of thy drug i could not stir him he said he was gentle but unfortunate dishonestly afflicted but yet honest thus did he answer me yet said hereafter i might no more to the field to the field we'll leave you for this time go in and rest we'll not be long away Pray be not sick, for you must be our housewife. Well or ill, I am bound to you. And shout be ever. Exit Imogen to the cave.

This youth, how he distressed, appears he hath had good ancestors. How angel like he sings. But his neat cookery, He cut our roots and characters, And sauced our broths, as Juno had been sick. and he heard diator nobly he yokes a smiling with a sigh as if the sigh was that it was for not being such a smile the smile mocking the sigh that it would fly from so divine a temple to mix with winds that sailors i do note that grief and patience rooted in him both mingle their spurs together grow patience and let the stinking elder grief untwine his perils

rushing group with the increasing vine. It is great morning. Come away. Who's there? Enter Clotton. I cannot find those runigates. That villain has mocked me. I am fine.

Those runnegates? Means ye not us? I partly know him. It is Clotan, the son of the queen. I fear some ambush. I saw him not these many years, and yet I know tis he. We are held as outclothes hence. He is but one. You and my brother search what companies are near. Pray you away. Let me alone with him.

Exxio and Belarius and Arvregus. So, what are you that fly me thus? Some Bill and Mountaineers, I have heard of such. what slave are thou a thing more slaveish did i nearer than answering a slave without a knock thou are a robber a low breaker a villain you be to who to thee what art though have not i an arm as big as thine a heart is big thy words i grant are bigger for i wear not my dagger in my mouth see what thou art thou art Why I should yield to thee. Thou villain bays, Nost me not

For my clothes. No, nor thy tailor, rascal, Who is thy grandfather. He made those clothes, Which, as it seems, make thee. Thou, precious bollet, Mar-Taylor made them not. Hence then,

And thank the man that gave them thee. Thou art some fool. I am loath to bait thee. Thou injurious thee. here but my name and tremble What's thy name? Clotten, thou villain. Clotten, thou double villain, be thy name.

I cannot tremble at it. Where it towed or at her, spider, to unmoved me sooner. To thy further feared name, to thy mere confusion For I shall know I am son to the queen I am sorry for it

Not seeming so worthy as thy birth O'n't not a fear Those that I reverence Those I fear The wise At fools I laugh Not fear them Die the death

When I am slain to With my proper hand I'll follow those that even now fled, Hems, and on the gates of Ludd's town, set your head. Yeald, rustic mountaineer. Exeunt, fighting. Reenter Bilarius and Arvigus. No companies abroad.

None in the world. You did mistake him, sure. I cannot tell. Long is... it since I saw him, but time hath nothing blurred those lines of favour, which then he wore. The snatches in his voice, and bursts of speaking were as his. I am absolute. T'was very clotin. In this place we left them. I wish my brother made good time with him. He'll say he is so foul. Being scarce made up, I mean, to man. He had not apprehension of roaring terrors, for the effect of

judgment is off the cause of fear. But see, thy brother. Re-enter Guderias with Clotten's head. This Clotten was a fool, an empty purse. There was no money in it. Not Terculaes could have knocked out his brains, for he had none. Yet, I not doing this. The fool had borne my head as I do his.

What hast thou done? I am perfect what Cut off one clotton's head Sond to the queen After his own report You called me traitor Mountaineer And swore with his own single hand

He take us in Displace our heads where Thank the gods They grow And sit them on Luddstone We are all undone Why were the father What have we to lose

but that he swore to take our lives. The law protects not us. Then why should we be tender to let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us? Play judge and executioner all himself, for we do fear the law. What company discover you abroad? No single soul can we set eye on, but in all safe reason he must have some attendance.

Though his humour was nothing but mutation, I, and that from one bad thing to worse. Not frenzy, not absolute madness could so far have raved to bring him here alone. Although, perhaps, it may be heard at court that such as we, cave here, hunt here, our outlaws, and in time may make some stronger head. The which, he hearing, as it is like him, might break out and swear, he'll fetch us in, yet is not probable To come alone

Either he so undertaking Or they so suffering Then on good ground we fear If we do fear this body hath a tail More perilous than the head Let ordnance come as the gods For say it Howso were my brother hath done well

I had no mind to hunt this day The boy Fidelis sickness Did make my way long forth With his own sword, which he did wave against my throat, I have taken his head from him. I'll throw it into the creek behind our rock, and let it to the sea, and tell the fishes he is the queen's son, Clarton.

That's all I wreck. Exit. I fear it will be revenged. Would Polydor thou hadst not done't, though valour becomes thee well enough. Would I had done it, so the revenge alone pursued may, Polydor, I lot thee brotherly, but envy much thou hast robbed me of this deed.

I would revenges that possible strength might meet, would seek us through and put us to our answer. Well, tis done. We'll hunt no more today, no seek for danger, where there's no profit. I prithy to our rock. You and Fidel play the cooks. I'll stay till hasty Polidore returns, and bring him to dinner presently. sick, Fidelic. I'll willingly to him, to gain his colour, I'd let a parish of such Clinton's blood, and praise myself for

charity. Exit. Oh, thou goddess, thou divine nature, how thyself thou blazest, in these two princely boys. They are as gentle as zephyrs blowing below the violet, not wagging

his sweet head, and yet as rough their royal blood in shape as the rudest wind. that by the top doth take the mountain pine and make him stoop to the veil tis wonder that an invisible instinct should frame them to royalty and learn it honour and taught civility not seen from other valour that wildly grows in them but yields a crop as if it had been sowed yet still it's strange what cloton's being here to us portends or what is death will bring us. Re-enter Gvidarius. Where's my brother?

I have sent Clatton's clappole down the stream, an embassy to his mother. His body is hostage for his return. Solem music. My ingenious instrument! Hark, Polidor, it sounds! But what occasion hath cad will now to give it motion, hark! Is he at home?

He went hence even now. What does he mean? since death of my dearest mother it did not speak before all solemn things should answer solemn accidents the matter triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys is jollity for apes and grief for boys is cadwell mad re-enter averygis with imogen as stead bearing her in his arms look here he comes and brings the dire occasion in his arms of what we blame him for the bird is dead that we have made so much on i had rather have skipped from sixteen years of age to sixty to have turned my leaping time into a crutch than have seen this oh sweetest fairest lily my brother where'st they not the one half so well is when thou grewst thyself oh melancholy whoever yet could sound thy bottom find the ooze to show what colour thy sluggish creer might easilyest a harbouring thou blessed thing jove knows what man thou mustst have made but i thou didst a most rare boy of melancholy how found you him stark as you see thus smiling as some fly had tickled slumber not as death's dart being laughed at his right cheek

reposing on the cushion where other floor his arms thus lead i thought he slept and put my clouted brooks from up my feet whose rudeness answered my steps too loud why he but sleeps if he be gone he'll make his grave a bed with female fairies will his tomb be haunted and worms will not come to thee with fairest flowers whilst summer lasts and i live here fideally i'll sweeten thy sad grave thou shalt not lack the flower that like thy face pale primrose nor the asiate herval like thy vein no nor the leaf of eglandtine whom not to slander out-sweetened not thy breath the rudok wood with charitable bill o bill so shaming those rich left heirs that let their fathers lie without a monument bring thee all this yea and fir'd moss besides and flowers are none to winter ground thy course pray thee ye have done and do not play in wench like words with that which is so serious let his bury him and not protract with admiration what is no due debt to the grave say where shall slay him my good euryphaly our mother be it so and let us pollydor thou know our voices have got the manish track sing him to the ground as once our mother use like note and words save that euryfully must be fidelity cadwell i cannot sing i'll weep and worded with thee

For knots of sorrow out of tomb are worse than priests and fains that lie. We'll speak at them. Great griefs, I see medicine the less, for Clotin is quite forgotten. He was a queen's son, boys, and though he came our enemy, remember, he was paid for that. Though mean and mighty, rotting together, have won dust, yet reverence, that angel of the world doth make distinction, of place between high and low. Our foe was princely, and though you took his life as being our foe,

yet bury him as a prince. Pray you fetch him hither. Thercet his body is as good as Ajax when neither are alive. If you go fetch him, we'll say our song the while. For the begin. Exit, Belarus. Nay, God will.

I must lay his head to the east My father hath a reason for it It's true Come on then And remove him So Begin Fear no more

The heat of the sun Nor the furious winters Rages Thou thy worldly task Has done Home art gone And tain thy wages Golden lats and girls oh must

His chimney-sweepers Come to dust Fear no more The frown of the great Thou art past the tyrant stroke Care no more to clothe and eat To thee the readers asly owe The sceptre learning physics must

All follow this and come to dust Fear no more The lightning flash nor the all-dreaded thunderstone Fear not slander Sense your rash Thou hast finished joy and moan All lovers young

All lovers must Consign to thee and come to dust No exerciser harm thee No no which crop charm thee Ghost unlaid forbear thee Nothing ill come near thee Quiet consummation should have and renown it be thy grave.

Re-enter Ballarius with the body of Clotten. We have done our obsequies. Come, lay him down. Here's a few flowers, but about midnight more. The herbs that have on them cold due the knights are strewing's fittest for graves. Upon their faces you were as flowers, now withered. Even so, these herblets shell Which we upon you strow Come on, away

Apart upon your knees The ground that gave them first Has them again. Their pleasures here are past So is their pain. Exeunt Ballarius, Guiderius And Avioregus Imogen, Awaking

Yes, sir, To Milford Haven Which is the way i thank you by yond bush pray how far thither art's pitticans can it be six mile yet i have gone all night faith i'll lie down and sleep but soft no bad fellow oh gods and goddesses seeing the body of clotten these flowers are like the pleasures of the world this bloody man the king on it. Oh, I hope I dream, for so I thought I was a cave-keeper, and cooked to honest creatures. But this not so, twas but a bold of nothing, shot at nothing, which the brain makes a fumes. Our very eyes are sometimes like our judgments, blind. Good faith, I trembled still with fear.

But if there be yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity as a wren's eye, feared gods a part of it. The dreams here still. Even when I wake, it is without me as within me, not imagined, felt. A headless man. The garments of posthumous. I know the shape of his leg.

This is his hand. His foot mercurial, his martial thigh, the bronze of Hercules. But his jovial face. Murder in heaven! How! Tis gone! pizanio all curses matted hecuba gave the greeks and mine to boot be darted on thee thou conspired with that irregular stavil clotten hast here cut off my lord

to write and read be henceforth treacherous damn pizanio hath with his forged letters damn pizanio from this most bravest vessel of the world struck the main top oh posthumus alas where is thy head where's that i'm me where is that pizania might have killed thee at the heart and left this head on how should this be pizanio tis he and clotten melis and lucre in them have laid this woe here oh tis pregnant pregnant the drug he gave me which he's said was precious and cordial to me, have I not found it murderous to the senses? That confirms it home. This is Pusanius deed, and clotons. Oh, give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood, that we the horridor may seem to those which chance to find us. Oh, my lord, my lord! falls on the body and Alusius a captain and other officers and a soothsayer

To them the legions garrisoned in Gallio after your will Have crossed the sea attending you here at Milford Haven With your ships they are in readiness But what from Rome The Senate has stirred up the confiners and gentlemen of Italy most willing spirits That promised noble service And they come under the conduct to bold yakim Sayyna's brother.

We'll expect you them. Would the next benefit of the wind? This foalness makes our hopes fair. Command our prison numbers be mustered. Be mustered. Now, sir, what have you dreamed of late of this war's purpose? Last night, the very gods showed me a vision. I fast and prayed for their intelligence.

Thus I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle winged from the spongy south to this part of the west. There vanished in the sunbeams, which portends, unless my sins abuse my divination, success to the Roman host. Dream often so and never false. Soft. Oh, while Tronk is here without his top, the ruin speaks at some time it was a worthy building. Oh, a page, or dead, or sleeping on him. But dead, rather, for nature doth abhor to make his bed,

for the defunct, or sleep upon the dead. Let's see the boy's face. he's alive my lord hale then instruct us of this body young one inform us of thy fortunes for it seems they crave to be demanded who is this thou makest thy bloody pillow or who is he that otherwise a noble nature did hath altered that good picture what's thy interest in this sad wreck how came it who is it What are, though? I am nothing, or if not, nothing to be were better. This was my master, a very valiant Britain and the good, that here by Mountaineers lies slain. Alas, there is no more such masters.

I may wander from east to Occident, cry out for service, try many, all good, serve truly, never find such another master. That good youth! How movest no less with thy complaining than thy master and bleeding? Say his name, good friend. Richard Duchon, if I do lie and do no harm by it, though the gods here, I hope they'll pardon it.

Say you, sir? Thy name? Fidele sir. Thou dost approve thyself. the very same. Thy name well fits thy faith, thy faith, thy name. We'll take thy chance with me. I will not say thou shalt be so well mastered,

but be sure, no less beloved. The Roman emperor's letters sent by a consul to me should not sooner than thine own worth prefer thee. Go with me. I'll follow, sir, but first and please the gods. I'll hide my master from the flies, as deep as these poor pig-axis can dig, and when with wild wood-leaves and weeds I have strewed his grave, and on it said a century of prayers, such as I can, twice over,

I'll weep and sigh, and leaving so his service, follow you. So please you entertain me. Aye, good youth, and rather farther thee than master thee. my friends The boy Has taught us manly duties Let us find out the prettiest daisied plot we can And make him with our pikes

And partisans of grief Come, arm him Boy, he is preferred by the tas And he shall be interred as soldiers can Be cheerful Wipe thine eyes Some falls are means The happier to arise

Exxion Scene 3 A room in Symbeline's palace Enter Simbeline, Lords Pisanio and Attendance Again And bring me word her tis with her Exit and attendant

A fever With the absence of her son A madness Of which her life's in danger Heavens How deeply you at once do touch me. Imogen, the great part

of my comfort gone, my queen upon a desperate bed, and in a time when fearful wars point at me her son gone, so needful for this present, it strikes me past the hope of comfort, but for thee

fellow, who needs must know of her departure, and just seem so ignorant, we'll enforce it from thee by a sharp torture. sir my life is yours i humbly set it at your will but for my mistress i nothing know where she remains why gone nor when she purposes return beseech your highness hold me your loyal servant good my liege the day that she was missing he was here i dare be bound he is true and shall perform all parts of his subjection loyally for glarton there wants no diligence in seeking him, and will no doubt be found.

The time is troublesome. To Pisanio. We'll slip you for a season, but our jealousy does yet depend. Sir, please, your majesty, the Roman legions, off from Gallaudron, are landed on your coast, with a supply of Roman gentlemen by the Senate sent. Now for the council of my son and queen, I am amazed with matter. good my liege your preparation can affront no less than what you hear of come more for more you're ready the wand is but to put those powers in motion that long to move i thank you let's withdraw and meet the time as it seeks us we fear not what can from italy annoys but we grieve at chances here away

Exxio and all, but Pisano. I heard no letter from my master since I wrote him, Imogen was slain, tis strange. Nor hear I from my mistress who did promise to yield me often tidings. Neither know I what is betide to clotten, but remain perplexed in all. The heaven still must work, wherein I am false, I am honest, not true to be true. These present wars shall find I love my love my heart. country, even to the note of the king, or our fall in them. All other doubts by time, let them be cleared. Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered. Exit. Scene four. Wales

before the cave of Belarus. And the Belarus, Guiderius and Arve-Regas. The noise is round about us. Let us from it. What pleasures are find we in life to luck at action and adventure. Nay, what hope have we in hiding us? This way the Romans must oar for Britons slay us, or receive us for barbarous and unnatural revolts during their use, in slay us after. Sons, we'll hire to the mountains, there secure us.

To the king's party there's no going, newness of Cloton's death. We being not known, not mustered, among the bands, may drive us to a render where we have lived and so extort from that which we have done whose answer would be death drawn on with torture this is sir a doubt in such a time nothing becoming you nor of satisfying us it is not likely that when they hear the roman horses nay behold their courted fires above that eyes and ears so cloyed importantly as now that they will waste their time upon our no tunnel from whence we are or i am known of many in the army many years though cloton then but young you see not wore him from my remembrance and besides the king has not deserved my service nor your loves who find in my exile a want of breeding the certainty of this hard life i hopeless to have the courtesy your cradle promised,

but to be still hot summer's tanlings and the shrinking slaves of winter. Then be so better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to the army. I and my brother are not known. Yourself so out of thought, and thereto so are grown cannot be questioned. By the sun that shines by you thither,

What thing is it that I never did see man die? scarce ever looked on blood but that of coward hairs hot goats and venison never be strayed a horse save one that had a rider like myself who ne'er wore a ral nor iron on his heel i am ashamed to look upon the holy sum to have the benefit of his blessed beams remaining so long a poor unknown my heavens i'll go if you will bless me sir and give me leave i'll take the better care but if you will not The hazard therefore do Follow me by the hands of Romans So say I Amen No reason I

Since of your lies you set So slight evaluation Should reserve my crackied one To more care Have with you boys If in your country wars You chance to die That is my bed too lads

And there I'll lie Lead Lead Aside. The time seems long. Their blood thinks scorn till it fly out and shows them princes born.

Exxon End of Act 4. Act 5 of Symbeline by William Shakespeare. This is the Librivox recording. All Librevox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librevox.org.

Act 5. Scene 1. Britain, the Roman camp. Enter posthumers with a bloody handkerchief. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee, for I wished thou shouldst be coloured thus. You married ones, if each of you should take this course, how many must murder wives much better than themselves for wrying but a little? Oh, Pisanyo, every good servant does.

not all commands, no bond but to do just ones. Gods, if you should have taken vengeance for my faults, I never had lived to put on this. So had you saved the noble, Imagint, to repent, and struck me, wretch more worth your vengeance. But to lack, you snatch some henceful little faults. That's love, to have them fall no more. You, some, permit, to second ills with ills, each elder worse, and make them dread it to the doers' thrift.

But imagine is your own. Do your best wills, and make me blessed to obey. I am brought hither among the Italian gentry, and to fight against my lady's kingdom. Tis enough that, Britain, I have killed thy mistress. Peace, I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good heavens, hear patiently my purpose. I'll disrobe me of these Italian weeds, and suit myself as does a Britain peasant. So I'll fight against the part I come with. So I'll die for thee, O Imogen, even for whom my life is every breath at death.

And thus, unknown, pity it nor hated, to the face of peril myself I'll dedicate. Let me make men know more valourn me than my habits show. Gods put the strength or the Leonati in me. To shame the guise of the world, that will begin the fashion, less without and more within. Exit Scene 2 Field of battle between the British and Roman camps.

Enter from one side, Lucius, Yakimo and the Roman army. From the other side, the British army. army. Leonatus posthumus following like a poor soldier. They march over and go out. Then enter again in skirmish, Yakimo and posthumus. He vanquisheth and disarmeth Yakimo, and then leaves him. The heaviness and guilt within my bosom takes off my manhood. I have belied a lady the princess of this country, hand the air on it revengingly enfeebles me. How could this cow? your very judge of natures have subdued me in my profession knighthoods and honours born as i wear mine are titles but have scorn if that thy gentry britain go before this light as he exceeds our lords the odds is that we scarce a man and you are gods Exit.

The battle continues. The Britons fly. Symboline is taken. Then enter to his rescue, Ballarius, Guiderius and Arviraeus. Stand! Stand! We have the advantage of the ground.

The lane is guarded. Nothing grouts us but the villainy of our fears. Stand, stand and fight. Re-enter posthumers and seconds the, Britons, they rescue Symberline and Exeond. Then re-enter Lucius and Yakimo with Imogen. Away, boy, from the troops and save thyself. For friends kill friends, and the disoard as such as war-word winked. Get their fresh supplies. Here's a day turned strangely, or by times let's reinforce or fly. Exxon. Seenth. Seen

three another part of the field enter posthumus and the british lord cameest thou from where they made the stand i did though you it seems come from the flyers i did no blame be to you sir for all was lost but that the heavens fought the king himself of his wings destitute the army broken and but the backs of britain's scene all fly lying through a straight lane. The enemy, full-hearted, lolling the tongue with slaughtering, having work more plentiful than tools to do it, struck down some mortally, some slightly touched, some falling merely through fear, that the straight pass was damned with dead men hurt behind, and cowards living to die with length and shame. Where was this, lane? close by the battle ditched and walled with turf which gave advantage to an ancient soldier an honest one i want who deserved so long a breeding as his white beard came to in doing this for his country

Thwart the lane, he, with two striplings, lads more like to run the country base than to commit such slaughter, with faces fit for masks, or rather fairer than those for preservation cased or shame, made good the passage, cried to those that fled. Our Britain's heartless die flying, not our men, to darkness fleet, souls that fly backwards. Stand, or we are Romans, and will give you that like beast. which you shun beastly and may save but to look back and frown stand stand these three three thousand confident in act as many for three performers are the file when all the rest do nothing with this word stand stand accommodated by the place more charming with their own nobleness which could have turned a distaff to a lance gilded bale looks part shame, part spirit renewed, that some turned coward but by example. Oh, a sin in war, damned in the first beginners, began to look the way that they did, and to grin like lines upon the pikes of the hunters. Then began a stop with the chaser, a retire, and on the route, confusion thick,

forthwith they fly chickens, the way which they stooped eagles. Slaves, the slays, the slough Thriads they victors made, and now our cowards, like fragments and hard voyages, became the life of the need. Having found the back door open of the unguarded huts, heavens how they wound some slain before, some dying, some their friends are born in the former wave. Ten, chased by one, are now each one the slaughter man of twenty. Those that would die or ere resist are grown the mortal bugs of the field. This was strange, chant. A narrow limb, an old man, and two boys.

Nay, do not want at it. You are made rather to want at the things you hear than to work any. Will you rhyme upon it, and vent it for a mockery? Here is one. Two boys, an old man, twice a boy, a lane, preserved the Britons, was the Romans' vain. Nay, be not angry, sir. Lark, to what end? Who dares not stand his foe?

I'll be his friend. For if he'll do as he is made to do, I know he'll quickly fly my friendship too. You have put me into rhyme. Farewell, you're angry. Exit. Still going? This is a lord.

Her noble misery, to be in the field and ask what news of me. Today, how many would have given their honours to have saved their carcasses? Took heel to do it, and yet died too. I, in my own world charmed, could not find death where I did hear him groan, nor feel him where he struck. Being an ugly monster, to his strangely hides him in fresh cups, soft beds, sweet words,

were half the more ministers than we that draw his knives of the war. Well, I will find him, for, being now a favourer to the Briton, no more a Briton, I have resumed again the part I came in. Fight I will no more, but yield me to the veriest hind that shall once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is here made by the Roman, great the answer be Britons must take. For me, my ransom's death. On either side I come to spend my breath Which neither here I'll keep No bear again

But ended by some means for Imogen Enter two British captains and soldiers Great Jupiter be praised Lucius is taken Tis thought the old man and his sons were angels There was a fourth man in a silly habit That gave the affront with them So tis reported, but none of them can be found.

Stand? Who's there? Roman, who had not now been drooping here, if seconds had answered him? Lay hands on him, a dog. A leg of Rome shall not return to tell what crows have pecked them here. He brags his service as if he were of note. Bring him to the king. Enter Symbeline, Ballarius, Quedarius, Aviverego.

pizanio soldiers attendants and roman captives the captains present posthumus to cymbalin who delivers him over to a jailer then exeunt omnes scene four a british prison enter posthumus and two jailers ah you shall not now be stolen you have locks upon you so grace as you find past No, or his stomach. Exxune, Jail us. Most welcome, bondage. For thou art away, I think, to liberty. Yet am I better than one that sick of the gout, since he had rather grown so in perpetuity than be cured by the sure physician.

Death, who is the key to unbar these locks? My conscience, thou art fettered more than my shawl. shanks and wrists. You good gods. Give me the penitent instrument to pick that boat, then. Free? Forever. Is it enough?

I am sorry. So children, temporal fathers, do appease. Guards are more full of mercy. Must I repent? I cannot do it better than in Jive's, desired more than constrained. to satisfy, if of my freedom tis the main part, take no stricter end of me than my all. I know you are more clement than wild men,

who of their broken debtors take a third, the sixth, the tenth, letting them thrive again on their abatement. That's not my desire. For Imogen's dear life, take mine, And though tis not so dear, yet tis a life, you coined it. Between man and man they weigh not every stamp. Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake.

You rather mine being yours. And so great powers, if you will take this audit, take this life, and cancel these cold bombs. Oh, Imogen, I'll speak to thee in silence. Sleaps Solem music Enter, as in an apparition, Cecilius Leonatus, father to posthumus, an old man, attired like a warrior, leading in his hand an ancient matron,

his wife and mother to posthumus, with music before them. Then, after some music, follow the two young Leonati. brothers to posthumers with wounds as they died in the wars. They circle posthumers round as he lies sleeping. No more thou thunder master's show. Thy spite on mortal flies, with mards pull out, with Juno chide. That thy doubt rules, rates and revenges

hath my poor boy done ought but well. Whose face I never saw, I died whilst in the womb he stayed, attending nature's law. Whose father then, as men report, thou awful, father art, thou shouldest have been and shielded him. From this earth vexing smart. Colossino let not be a aid, but took me in my throes. That crumbed me was lost, you must rep. I must disprove a thing of pity. Great nature, like his ancestry,

moulded the stuff so fair, that he deserved the praise of the world as great Sicilius heir. When once he was mature for man, in Britain where was he that could stand up or fruitful object be, an eye of imagery, that best, could do this dignity.

With marriage, wherefore was he monk? To be exiled and thrown from the unnotty seat and cast from out his dearest one sweet, Imogen? Why did you suffer, Yakimo? Slight thing of Italy to taint his nobler heart and brain with needless jealousy and to become the geck and scorn are the other's villainy.

For this, from still a seat's we came, our parents and us quake. That striking in our country's core fell crazily and was slain. Our beauty and tantinthia's right with honour to maintain. Like hardened, portions have to symbol in the foreword. Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods, why hast thou thus adieu the graces for his merit to? being odd to Dermostan. Thy crystal window o'clock, No longer exercise

Upon a valiant race, Thy harsh and potent injuries. Send Jupiter Her son is good. Take off his miseries. Peep through thy marble mansion, help Or we poor ghosts will cry to the shining synod of the red.

sin and of the rest against thy deity. Help Jupiter from the truth of view. From thy justice for light. Jupiter descends in thunder and lightning, sitting upon an eagle. He throws a thunderbolt. The ghosts fall on their knees. No more you have his spirits of region low, offend our hearing. Hush!

How day. ghosts accuse the D'Hondra, who spoke, you know, sky-planted Bettos all rebelling ghosts. Poor shadows of Elysia, hence, and rest upon your never with ring banks of flowers. Be not with mortal accidents oppressed. No care of yours is, you know, tis ours. Whom best I love, I cross, to make. Make my gift the more delayed, delighted.

Be content, your low-laid son of our Godhead will uplift. His comfort's life, his trials well are spent. Our joyous star reigned at his birth, and in our temple was he married. Rise and fade. He shall be a lord of lame the image, and be a march by his affliction made. This heaven lay upon his breast, wherein our pleasure is full fortune not confined, and so, away, no further with your din, expressy patience, lest you stir up mine. Mount Eagle to my palace crystalline. He came in thunder.

His celestial breath was self-for us to smell the Holy Eagle. stooped us to foot us. His ascension is more sweet than our blessed fields. His royal bird, prunes the immortal wing, and clois his beak, as when his god is pleased. The marble pavement closes. He is entered. His radiant youth, away and,

And stupidest, let us with care perform his great pre-est. Thanks, Jupiter, Thank you, Jupiter, thank you, God, thanks, Jupiter, thank you, David, and, thank you, David, and... I've been a grandsire, and they got a father to me, and thou hast created a mother.

and two brothers, but, oh, scorn, gone! They went hence so soon as they were born, and so I am awake. Poor wretches that depend on greatness, favour, dream as I have done. Wake and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve, many dream not to find, neither deserve and yet are steeped in favours. So am I, that have this golden chance, and know not why.

What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O rare one, be not, as is our thankled world, a garment nobler than that it covers. Let thy effects so follow, to be most unlike our courtiers, as good as promise. reads When has

A lion's well Shall, to himself Unknown, without seeking find And be embraced By a piece of tender air And when from a stately cedar Shall be lopped branches Which, being dead many years,

Shall after revive, Be jointed to the old stock And freshly grow Then shall pop costumes end his miseries Britain be fortunate and flourish in peace and plenty It is still a dream or else such as tough as manned tongue brain not Either both or nothing or senseless speaking or is speaking such a sense cannot untie Be what it is the action of my life is like it which I keep if but for sympathy

We enter Jailers. Come, sir. Are you ready for death? Over-roasted, rather. Ready long ago. Hanging is the word, sir. If you be ready for that, you are well cooked.

So, if I prove a good repast to the spectators, the dish pays the shot. a heavy reckoning for you sir but the comfort is you shall be called to no more payments fear no more talent bills which are often the sadness of parting as the procuring of mirth ah you come in faint for want of meat depart reeling with too much drink sorry that you have paid too much and sorry that you are pay too much. Purs and brain, both empty. The brain the heavier for being too light, the purse too light, being drawn of heaviness. Of this contradiction, you shall now be quit. Oh, the charity of a penny cord. It sums up thousands in a trice. You have no true and creditor but it of what's past is and to come the discharge your neckser is pen book and counters so the acquittance follows i am merrier to die than thou art to live

indeed sir he that sleeps feels not the toothache ah but a man that were to sleep your sleep, and the hangman to help him to bed, I think he would change places with his officer. For, look you, sir, you know not which way you shall go. Yes, indeed do I, fellow. Ah, ill death has eyes in his head, then. I have not seen him so pictured. You must either be directed by some that take upon them to know, or to take upon yourself that which I am sure you do not know, or jump the after inquiry on your own peril. And how you shall speed in your journey's end, I'll think you'll never return to tell one. I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to direct them the way I am going, but such is wink and will not use them.

What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best of eyes to see the way of blindness. I am sure hangings the way of winking. Enter a messenger. Doc off his miracles. Bring your prisoner to the king. Thou bring'st good news. I am called to be made free. I'll be hanged, then.

shall be then freer than a jailer. No boats for the dead. Exy and all but the first jailer. Ah, unless a man would marry a gallows and beget young gibberts, I never saw one so prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are various knave's desire to live, for all he be a Roman, and there be some of them too that die against them. their wills. So should I if I were one. I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good.

Oh, there were desolation of jailers and gallowses. I speak against my present prophet, but my wish hath a preferment in it. Exit. Scene five. Symbeline's Tent, Enter Symbeline, Belerius, Guiderius, Arviraeus, Pisano, Lords, Officers, and Attendance. Stand by my sight, you, whom the gods have made preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart, that the poor soldier that so richly fought, whose rag shamed gilded arms, whose naked breast stepped before targes of proof cannot be found

He shall be happy That can find him If our grace can make himself I never saw such noble fury In so poor a thing Such precious deeds in one that promised naught But beggary And poor looks

No tidings of him He hath been searched Among the dead and the living But no trace of him To my grief, I am the heir of his reward. To Ballarius, Squidarius and Arviraegus. Which I will add to you, the liver, heart and brain are bitten by whom high ground she lived. Tis now the time to ask of whence you are reported.

Sir, in Cambria are we born, and gentlemen. Further to boast Were neither true nor modest Unless I add we are honest Bow your knees Arise My knight of the battle I create you

Companions to our person And will fit you With dignitar is becoming your estates Enter Cornelius and ladies There's business In these faces Why so sadly greet you a victory. You look like Romans. I'm not of the

Court of Britain. Hail great king. To sour your happiness, I must report the Queen is dead. Who worse than a position would this report become? But I consider, by medicine, life may be prolonged, yet death will seize the doctor

too. how ended she? That horror, madly dying, Like her life, which, Being cruel to the world, Concluded most cruel to herself, What she confessed, I will report so please you, These her women can trip me if I err,

Who, with their cheeks, were present when she finished? Pretty, say, First, she confessed she never loved you. only affected greatness got by you not you married your royalty for a wife to your place aboard your person she alone knew this and but she spoke it dying i would not believe her lips in opening it proceed your daughter whom she bar in hand to love with such integrity she did confess was as a scorpion to her sight whose life but that her flight prevented it she attained off by poison O most delicate fiend! Who is, can read, a woman?

Is there more? More, sir, and verse. She did confess she had for you a mortal mineral, which being took should by the minute feed on life, and lingering by inches, faced you, in which time she purposed by watching, weeping, tendons, kissing, to our come you at our shore, and in time when she had fitted you with her craft,

to work her son into the adoption of the crown. But, failing of her end by this strange absence, grew shameless desperate, opened in despite of heaven and men her purposes, repented the evil she hatched were not affected, It so despairing, died. Heard you all this, her woman. We did, so please, Your Highness.

Mine eyes were not in full, for she was beautiful. Mine ears that heard her flattery, nor my heart, that thought her like her seeming, it had been vicious to have mistrusted her yet o my daughter that it was folly in me thou mayst say and prove it in thy feeling heaven and all and delusius yekimo the soothsayer and other roman prisoners guarded posthumus behind and imogen thou comes not caius now for tribute that the Britons have raised out, though with the loss of many a bold one, whose kinsmen have made suit,

that their good souls may be appeased with slaughter of you, their captives, which ourselves have granted. So, think of your estate. Consider, sir, the chance of war. The day was yours by accident. had it gone with us We should not When the blood was cool

Half threatened our prisoners with the sword But since the guards Will have it thus Then nothing but our lives may be called ransom Let it come Sufficeeth a Roman Where the Roman's heart can suffer Augustus lives the thing on't

And so much for my peculiar care This one thing only I will enjoy my boy a Britain born let him be ransomed never master had a page so kind so dutious diligence so tender over his occasions true so feet so nurse-like let his virtue join with my request which I'll make bold your highness cannot deny he had done no Britain harm though we have served a Roman. Save him, sir, and spare no blood beside.

I have surely seen him. His favour is familiar to me. Boy, thou hast looked thyself into my grace, and art mine own. I know not why no way for, to sake live, boy. Now thank thy master, live. And ask of cymbaline, what boon thou wilt.

Fitting my bounty and thy state, I'll give it. Ye, though thou do demand a prisoner, the noblest tain. I humbly thank your highness. I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad. Yet I know thou wilt. No, no, alack. There's other work in hand. I see a thing bitter to me as death.

your life good master must chuffle for itself the boy disdains me he leaves me scorns me briefly die their joys that place among the truth of girls and boys why stand thee so perplexed what wouldst thou boy i love thee more and more think more and more what's best to ask know'st him thou look'st on speak won't have him live is he thy kin thy friend he is a roman no more kin to me than i to your highness who being born your vessel am something nearer wherefore iest him so i'll tell you sir in private if you please to give me hearing ay with all my heart and lend my best attention what's thy name fidele sir thou art my good youth my pain i'll be thy master walk with me speak freely cymbeline and imogen converse apart is not this boy revived from death One sand, another not more resembles that sweet rosy lad who died and was with Delhi. What, thank you? The same dead thing alive.

Peace, peace, see further. He hies us not, for bear, creatures may be alike. Weren't he, I am sure, he would have spoken to us. But we saw him dead. Be silent, let's see further. Pizanio, aside. It is my mistress. Since she is living, let the time run on to good or bad.

Symbalina and Imogen come forward. Come, stand thou by our side. Make thy demand aloud. To Yakimo. So, step you part, give answer to this boy and do it freely. Or by our greatness and the grace of it, which is our honor. Bitter torture shall win her the truth from falsehood. un speak to him my boon is that this gentleman may render of whom he had this ring posthumus aside what's that to him

that diamond upon your finger say how came it yours thou torture me to leave unspoken that which to be spoke would torture thee how me i am glad to be constrained to utter that which torments me to conceal by bullany i got this ring twas deon'te's duel whom thou didst banish and which more may grieve thee as it doth me a nobler sir neilip to sky and grand wilt thou hear more my lord oh that belongs to this that paragon thy daughter for whom my heart-chop's blood have my false spirits quail to remember i'll give me leave i faint my daughter what have heard renew thy strength i had rather thou should slive while nature will than die ere i hear more strive man and speak upon a time unhappy was the glut that struck the hour it was in rome it cursed the mansion where twas at a feast oh what a viands had been poisoned or at least those which i heaved ahead the good posthumous what should i say he was too good to be where ill men were and was the best of all amongst the ravest of good one sitting sadly, hearing us praise our loves of Italy, for beauty that made barren the swell boast of him that first could speak, for feature flaming the shrine of Venus, or strike pipe minervor, postures beyond brief nature,

for condition a shelf of all the qualities that man loves woman for, besides that hook of winding, fairness which strikes the eye. I stand on fire. come to the matter all too soon i shall unless thou wouldst grieve quickly this posthumus most like a noble lord in love and one that had a royal lover took his hen i am not dis praising whom we praised therein he was as calm as virtue he began his mistress picture which by his tongue being made and then a mind put in it either our brags were cracked of kitchen trolls or his description proved us unspeaking sots nay nay to the purpose your daughter's chastity there it begins he spake of her as diane had hot dreams and she alone were called whereat i wretch made scruple of his praise and waged within pieces of gold gainst this which then he wore upon his honoured finger to attain in soup the place of his bed, and win this ring by hers and mine adultery. He, true knight, no less of her honour confident, than I did truly find her,

stakes this ring, and would so, had it been a carbuncle of bea's wheel, and might so safely, had it been all the worth of his car. Away to Britain post-eye in this design, well may you, sir, remember me at court, where I was taught of your chase daughter the wide difference twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quenched of hope, not longing, my Italian brain gam in your duller-bitten operate most vileing, for my vantage, excellent.

And to be brief, my practice so prevailed that I returned with simular proof enough to make the noble Leonatus mad, by wounding his belief in her renown with tokens thus and thus averring notes of chamber-hanging pictures this her bracelet o'cunning how i got it nay some marks of secret on her person that he could not but think a bond of chastity quite crack i having tamed the forfeit whereupon o my thinks i see him now posthumus advancing Aye, so thou dost, Italian fiend. I'm me, most credulous fool, egregious murder, thief, anything that's due to all the villains past, in being to come.

Oh, give me court, or knife, or poison, some upright justice, sir. Thou, king, send out for torturous and genius. It is I that all the abhorred things of the earth, amend by being worse than they. I am posthumus that killed thy daughter, villain-like I lie, that caused a lesser villain than myself, a sacrilegious thief to do it. The temple of virtue was she, ye, and she herself. Spit and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set the dogs of the street to obey me. Every villain be called posthumus Leonatus. and be villainy less than twas.

O Imogen, my queen, my life, my wife. O Imogen, Imogen, Imogen. Peace, my lord, here, here. Shall's have a play of this? Thou scorn for page. There lie thy part. Striking her, she falls. Oh, gentlemen, help.

Mine, and your. mistress. Oh, my lord posthumous! You ne'er killed Imogen till now! Help! Help! My honoured lady! Does the world go round? How come they stack us on me?

Wake, my mistress! If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me to death with mortal jug. How fares my mistress? Oh, get thee from my sight. Thou gavest me poison. Dangerous fellow, hence,

breathe not where princes are the tune of imogen lady the gods throw stones of sulphur on me if that box i gave you was not thought by me a precious thing i had it from the queen no matter still it poisoned me oh gods i left out one thing which the queen confessed which must approve the honest if bisoned have said she Given his mistress that confection which I gave him for cordial, she has served as I would serve a rat. What this conalius? The queen, sir, very often importuned meat, temper, poisons for her, still pretending the satisfaction of her knowledge only in killing creatures vile as cats and dogs of no esteem. I, dreading that her purpose was of more danger, did compound for her a certain staff, which, being taken, would cease the present of the present of, power of life, but in short time, all offices of nature

should again do their due functions. Have you taken of it? Most like I did, for I was dead. My boys, there was our error. This is sure, fidelity. Why did you throw your wedded lady from you? Think that you are upon a rock,

and now throw me again. Embracing him. Hang there like fruit, my son. till the tree die. Oh, no, my flesh, my child. What makes thou me a dullard in this act? Will thou not speak to me? Imogen, kneeling.

Your blessing, sir. Valerius, to Guiderius and Avivarius. Though you did love this youth, I blame ye not. You had a motive for it. My tears that fall. Pro holy water on the. Imogen, thy mother's dead. I am sorry for it, my lord.

Oh, she was not, and long of her it was, that we meet here so strangely, but her son is gone, we know not have nowhere. My lord, now fear is from me, I'll speak troth. Lord Cloughton, upon my lady's missing, came to me, with his sword drawn, foamed at the mouth, and swore if I discovered not which way she was gone, it was my instant death.

By accident, I had a feigned letter of my master's, then in my pocket, which directed him to seeker on the mountains near to Milford, where, in a frenzy, in my master's garments, which he enforced from me, away he posts, with unchaste purpose and with oath to violate my lady's honour. What became of him, I further know not. Let me end the story. I slew him there.

Mary, the gods forfend, I would not thy good deeds Shept from my lips pluck a hard sentence, Preg the valiant youth, deny it again. I have spoke it, and I did it. He was a prince? Most incivil one. The wrongs he did me were nothing prince-like,

for it did provoke me with language that would make me sperm the sea, If I could so roar to me, I cut off's head, and I'm right glad he is not standing here to tell this tale of mine. I am sorry for thee. By thine own tongue thou art condemned, and must endure our law. Thou art dead. That headless man I thought had been my lord. Find the offender, and take him from our present. Stay, sir, king. This man is better than the man.

he slew as well descended as thyself and hath more of thee merited than a band of clotens had ever scar for to the guard let his arms alone they were not borne for bondage why old soldier wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for by tasting of our wrath how of descent as good as we in that he spake too far and thou shalt die for it we will die all three but i will prove the two aunts are as good as i have given out to him my sons i must for my own part unfold a dangerous speech though happily well for you your dangerous ours and our good is garrat it then by leave thou hadst great king a subject who was called belarius what of him he is a banished traitor he it is that hath assumed this age indeed a banished man i know not how a traitor take him hence the whole world shall not save him not too hot first pay me for the nursing of thy sons and let it be confiscate all so soon as i have received it nothing of my sons i am too blunt and saucy here's my knee here i rise i will prefer my sons then spare not the old father mighty sir these two young gentlemen that call me father and think they are my sons and none of mine they are the issue of your loins my liege and blood of your begetting how my issue so sure as you your fathers

i old morgan am that bellerius whom you sometime banished your pleasure was my mere offence my punishment itself and all my treason that i suffered was all the harm i did these gentle princes for such and so they are these twenty years have i trained up those arts they have as i could put into them my breeding was sir as your highness knows their nurse euryphaly whom for the theft i wedded stole these children upon my banishment i moved her to it having received the punishment for that which i did then beaten for loyalty to her to it having received the punishment before for that which i did then beaten for loyalty excited me to treason. Their dear loss, the more of you twas felt, the more it shaped, and to my end of stealing them.

But gracious, sir, here are your sons again, and I must lose two of the sweetest companions in the world. The benediction of these covering heavens fall on their heads like dew, for they are worthy to inlay heaven with stars.

Though weep stands, speak the service that you three have done is more unlike than this thou tell's i lost my children if these be they i know not how to wish a pair how worthy a son be pleased a while this gentleman whom i call pollido most worthy prince as yours is true guiderius this gentleman my cadwell avaragas your younger princely son he sir was lapped in a most curious mantle wrought by the hand of his queen-mother which for more probation i can with ease produce goddarius had upon his neck a mole a sanguine star it was a mark of wonder this is he who hath upon him still that natural stamp it was wise nature's end in the donation to be his evidence now oh what am i a mother to the birth to three. Now, Mother, rejoiced deliverance more. Blessed pray you be that after this train starting from your orb, you may reign in them now. Oh, Imogen, thou hast lost by this a kingdom.

Oh, no, my lord, I have got two worlds by it. Oh, my gentle brothers, have we thus met? Oh, never say hereafter, but I am truest speaker. You called me brother When I was but your sister I you brothers When you were so indeed Did you air meet? Aye, my good lord

And at first meeting loved Continued so Until we thought he died By the Queen's charm She's followed O rare instinct When shall I hear all through this fierce abridgment hath to it circumstantial branches which distinction should be rich in where how lived you and when came you to serve our roman captive how parted with your brothers how first met them why fled you from the court and wither these and your three motives to the battle with i know not how much more should be demanded and all the other by dependencies from chance to chance

but nor the time nor place will serve our long interrogatories see ye posthumous anchors upon Imogen and she like harmless lightning throws her eye on him her brothers me her master

hitting each object with a joy the canter change is severally in all let's quit this ground and smoke the temple with our sacrifices to Ballarius thou art my brother so will hold thee ever.

You are my father too, and did relieve me to see this gracious season. All are joyed. Savities in bonds. Let them be joyful too, for they shall taste our comfort. My good master,

I will yet do you service. Happy be you, the forlorn soldier that so nobly thought, he would have well become this place And grace the thankings of a king I am sir The soldier that did company these three

And poor beseeming It was a fitment for the purpose I then followed That I was he, speak Yakimo I had you down and might have made you finish Yekimo kneeling I am down again But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee as then your force did.

Take that life besie to you, which I so often owe, but your ring first, and hear the bracelet of the truest princess that ever saw her fate. Neal not to me. The power that I have on you is to spare you, the malice towards you to forgive you, live and deal with others better. Nobly doomed.

We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law. pardon's the word to all. You help us, sir, as you did mean indeed to be our brother. Or joyed are we that you are? Your servants, princes, good my lord of Rome, call forth your soothsayer. As I slept, methought great Jupiter, upon his eagle-backed, appeared to me, with other sprightly shows of mine own kindred. When I waked, I found.

this labour on my bosom, whose containing is so from a sense and hardness that I can make no collection of it. Let him show his skill in the construction. Philharmonous! Here, my good lord. Read and declare the meaning. Soussaia reads,

When a lion's whelp shell, to himself unknown, without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of tender air, and when from a stately cedar shall be lopped branches which being dead many years shall after revive be jointed to the old stock and freshly grow then shall posthumus end his miseries britain be fortunate and flourish in peace and plenty thou leonatus are the lion's whelp the fit and apt construction of thy name being leonatus thus impart so much to cymbeline the peace of tender air thy virtuous daughter which we call mollis ayre and molly's ire we termed mulier which mulier i divine is this most constant wife who even now answering the letter of the oracle unknown to you unsought were clipped about with this most tender air this had some seeming The lofty cedar, royal cymbaline personates thee,

And thy lopped branches, point thy two sons forth, Who, by B'larius stolen, for many years thought dead, are now revived, To the majestic cedar joined, whose issue promises Britain peace and plenty. Well, my peace we will be able to be. begin. And Caius Lucius, although the victor, we submit to Caesar and to the Roman Empire, promising to pay our wonted tribute from the which we were dissuaded by our wicked queen, whom heaven's injustice both on her and hers have laid most heavy hand. The fingers of the powers above do tune the harmony of the harmony of the

this piece the vision which i made known to lucius ere the stroke of this yet scarce cold battle at this instant is full accomplished for the roman eagle from south to west on wings soaring aloft lessened herself and in the beams of the sun so vanished which foreshowed our princely eagle the imperial Caesar should again unite his favour with the radiant symboline which shines here in the west. Lord we the gods

and let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils from our blessed altars publish we this piece to all our subjects set we forward let a Roman and a British ensign way friendly together So through Ludd's town, March And in the temple of great Jupiter

Her peace will ratify Seal it with feasts, sat on there Never was awarded cease Her bloody hands were washed With such a peace Exeunt End of Act 5 End of Symbeline by William Shakespeare.