When the does praife me, grieves me. I have done. ] Both field and city ours, he never flood
As you have done; that's what I can; induced To cafe his breaft with panting.
As you have been that's for my country:
He that has but effected his good will

Hath overta'en mine act.

Popularity.

All tongues fpeak of him, and thebleared fights
Are fpectacled to fee him. Your prattling nurf
Into a rapture lets her baby cry,

While the chats him: the kitchen malkin pins
Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck,
Clamb'ring the walls to eye him: ftalls, bulks.
windows,

Are fmother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges hors'
With variable complexions; all agreeing
In earnestnefs to fee him: feld-fhown flamens
Do prefs among the popular throngs, and puff
To win a vulgar ftation: our veil'd dames
Commit the war of white and damask, in
Their nicely-gawded cheeks, to th' wanton fpoil
Of Phoebus' burning kiffes: fuch a pother,
As if that whatsoever god, who leads him,
Were flily crept into his human powers,
And gave him g aceful pofture.

Cominius' Speech in the Senate.

I fhall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus
Should not be utter'd feebly. It is held
That valour is the chiefeft virtue, and
Moft dignifies the haver: if it be,
The man I fpeak of cannot in the world
Be fingly counterpois'd. At fixteen years,
When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought
Beyond the mark of others; cur then dictator,
Whom with all praife I point at, faw him fight,
When with his Amazonian chin he drove
The briftled lips before him: he beftrid
An o'er-preft Roman, and i' the conful's view
Slew three oppofers: Tarquin's felf he met,
And ftruck him on his knee in that day's feats,
When he might act the woman in the fcene,
He prov'd beft man i' the field, and for his meed
Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil-age
Man-enter'd thus, he waxed like a fea;
And, in the brunt of feventeen battles fince,
He lurch'd all fwords o' the garland. For this laft,
Before, and in Corioli, let me fay,

I cannot speak him home: he stopp'd the flyers;
And, by his rare example, made the coward
Turn terror into fport: As weeds before
A veffel under fail, fo men obey'd,
And fell below his ftem: his fword (death's ftamp)
Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot
He was a thing of blood, whofe every motion
Was tim'd with dying cries: alone he enter'd
The mortal gate o' the city, which he painted
With fhunlefs deftiny; aidlefs came off,
And with a fudden reinforcement struck
Corioli, like a planet. Now all's his :
When by and by the din of war 'gan pierce
His ready fenfe, then ftraight his doubled fpirit
Requicken'd what in flesh was fatigate,
And to the battle came he; where he did
Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if
'Twere a perpetual fpoil: and till we call'd

The Mifbief of Anarchy.
My soul aches,

To know, when two authorities are up,
Neither fupreme, how foon confufion
May enter 'twixt the gap of both, and take
The one by the other,

Character of Coriolanus.

His nature is too noble for this world:
He would not flatter Neptune for his trident,
Or Jove for his power to thunder. His heart's his
mouth:

What his breaft forges, that his tongue muft vent;
And, being angry, does forget that ever
He heard the name of death.

Honour and Policy.

I've heard you fay,
Honour and policy, like unfever'd friends, [me
I' the war do grow together: grant that, and tell
In peace, what each of them by th' other lofe,
That they combine not there?

The Method to gain popular Favour.
Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand;
And thus far having ftretch'd it, (here be with
them)

Thy knee buffing the ftones (for in fuch bufinefs
Action is cloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant
More learned than the ears), waving thy head,
Which often, thus, correcting thy flout heart,
Now humbie, as the ripeft mulberry,
That will not hold the handling: or, say to them,
Thou art their foldier, and, being bied in broils,
Haft not the foft way, which, thou doft confefs,
Were fit for thee to ufe, as they to claim,
In afking their good loves; but thou wilt frame
Thyfelf, forfooth, hereafter theirs, so far
As thou haft power and perfon.

Coriolanus bis Abborrence of Flattery.
Well, I must do 't:
Away, my difpofition, and poffefs me
Some harlot's fpirit! my throat of war be turn'd,
Which quired with my drum, into a pipe,
Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice
Tent in my cheeks; and fchool-boy's tears take up
That babies lulls afleep! the fmiles of knaves
The glaffes of my fight! a beggar's tongue
Make motion thro' my lips; and my arm'd knees,
Who bow'd but in my firrup, bend like his

That hath receiv'd an alms-I will not do 't-
Left I furccafe to honour my own truth,
And, by my body's action, teach my mind
A moft inherent baseness.

His Mother's Refolution on his ftubborn Pride.
At thy choice then:

To beg of thec, it is ny more dishonour
Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let
Thy mother rather feel thy pride, than fear
Thy dang'rous floutnefs; for I mock at death
With as big heart as thou. Do as thou lift.
Thy valiantnefs was mine,thou fuck'dft it from me;
But own thy pride thy self.
His

-The noble fifter of Publicola, The moon of Rome; chafte as the icicle, That's curdied by the froft from purcft fnow, And hangs on Dian's temple.

Coriolanus's Prayer for his Son. -The god of foldiers, With the confent of the fupreme Jove, inform firft,Thythoughts with noblenefs.that thou may't prove To fhame invulnerable, and stick i' the wars Like a great fea-mark, ftanding every flaw, And faving thofe that eye thee!

Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us
Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort
That all but we enjoy.

-We must find

An evident calamity, though we had

Iach. Had I this cheek

593

To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whoft touch,
Whofe every touch would force the feeler's foul
To the oath of loyalty; this object, which
Takes prifoner the wild motion of mine eye,

Our with which fide fhould win: for either thou Fixing it only here: fhould I (damn'd then)

Muft, as a foreign recreant, be led

With manacles along our streets; or elfe
Triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin;
And bear the palm, for having bravely fhed
Thy wife and children's blood. For myfelf, fon,
I purpose not to wait on fortune, till
Thefe wars determine: if I cannot perfuade thee,
Rather to fhew a noble grace to both parts,
Than feek the end of one, thou shalt no fooner
March to affault thy country, than to tread
(Truft to 't, thou shalt not) on thy mother's womb,
That brought thee to this world.

To after-eye him.

Pif. Madam, fo I did.

Imo. I would have broken mine eye-ftrings;
crack'd 'em, but

To look upon him; till the diminution
Of space had pointed him as tharp as my needle:
Nay, follow'd him, till he had melted from
The finalinets of a gnat, to air; and then [nio,
Have turn'd mine eye and wept. But, good Pifa-
When thall we hear from him?

Pf. Be affur'd, madam,
With his next vantage.

Imo. I did not take my leave of him, but had Moft pretty things to fay: ere I could tell him, How I would think of him, at certain hours, Such thoughts, and fuch; or Icould make himfwear, The fhes of Italy fhould not betray

Mine intereft, and his honour; or have charg'd
him,

At the fixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight,
To encounter me with orifons, for then
I am in heaven for him; or ere I could
Give him that parting kifs, which I had fet
Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father,
And, like the tyrannous breathing of the north,
Shakes all our buds from growing.

The Bafenefs of Falfebood to a Wife.
Since doubting things go ill, often hurts more
Than to be fure they do for certainties
Either are pift remedies; or, timely knowing,
The remedy then born, discover to me
What both you fpur and stop.

Slaver with lips as common as the stairs
That mount the capitol, join gripes with hands
Made hard with hourly falfehood (as
With labour), then lie peeping in an eye,
Bafe and unluftrous as the fioky light
That's fed with ftinking tailow: it were fit,
That all the plagues of hell fhould at one time
Encounter fuch revolt.

Imogen's Bed-chamber; in one Part of it a large
Trunk.
Imogen is difcovered reading.
Imo.
-Mine eyes are weak:
Fold down the leaf where I have left: to bed:
And if thou canft awake by four o' th' clock,
Take not away the taper, leave it burning;
pr'ythee, call me.-Sleep hath feiz'd me wholly.
[Exit Lady.

I

To your protection I commend me, gods!
From fairies, and the tempters of the night,
Guard me befeech ye!

[Sleeps. [Tachimo rifes from the Trunk. Iach. The crickets fing, and man's o'er

labour'd fenfe

Repairs itself by reft: our Tarquin thus
Did foftly prefs the rushes, ere he waken'd
The chastity he wounded. Cytherea,
How bravely thou becom'ft thy bed! fresh lily!
And whiter than the fheets! That I might touch!
How dearly they do 't!-'Tis her breathing that
But kifs; one kifs !—Rubies unparagon'd,
Perfumes the chamber thus: the flame o' the taper
To fee th' inclofed lights, now canopied
Bows toward her; and would under-peep her lids,
With blue of heaven's own tin&t--but my delign?
Under thefe windows: white and azure, lac'd;
To note the chamber:-I will write all down-
Such, and fuch, pictures; there the window: fuch
Th' adornment of her bed the arias, figures,
Why, fuch, and fuch-and the contents of the

ftory.

Ah, but fome natural notes about her body,
Above ten thoufand meaner movcables

Would teftify t' enrich mine inventory:
And be her fenfe but as a monument,
O fleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her!
Thus in a chapel lying! Come off, come off;
[Taking off ber Bracelet.
As flippery, as the Gordian knot was hard!
'Tis mine; and this will witnefs outwardly,
To the madding of her lord.
As ftrongly as the confcience does within,

On her left breaft
A mole cinque-fpotted, like the crimson drops
I' the bottom of a cowflip: Here's a voucher,
Stronger than ever law could make this fecret
Will force him think I have pick'd the lock and
[end?
The treature of her honour. No more.-To what
Why fhould I write this down, that's riveted,
Screw'd to my memory? She hath been reading late
The

૧૧

ta'en

The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turn'd down,
Where Philomel gave up ;-I have enough:
To the trunk again, and fhut the fpring of it.
Swift, fwift, you dragons of the night! that dawn-
May bare the raven's eye: I lodge in fear; [ing
Tho' this a heavenly angel, hell is here.

[He goes into the Trunk; the Scene clofes.

Gold.

'Tis gold
Which buys admittance: oft it doth; yea, and makes
Diana's rangers falfe themfelves, and yield up
Their deer to the ftand o' the stealer: and 'tis gold
Which makes the true man kill'd, and faves the
thief;

Nav, fometime hangs both thief and true man: what
Can it not do, and undo?

A Satire on Women.

Is there no way for men to be, but women
Must be half-workers? We are all baftards;
And that moft venerable man, which I
Did call my father, was I know not where
When I was stamp'd; fome coiner with his tools
Made me a counterfeit: yet my mother feem'd
The Dian o' that time: fo doth my wife
The nonpareil of this.-O, vengeance, vengeance!
Me of my lawful pleasure the restrain'd,
And pray'd me, oft, forbearance; did it with
A pudency fo rofy, the fweet view on 't

How may we fteal from hence; and, for the gap
That we fhall make in time, from our hence-going,
And our return, t'excufe: but first, how get hence?
Why fhould excufe be born, or e'er begot?
We'll talk of that hereafter. Pr'ythee, speak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
Twixt hour and hour?

Pif. One fcore 'twixt fun and fun,
Madam, 's enough for you; and too much too.

Imo. Why, one that rode to his execution, man,
Could never go fo flow: I have heard of riding

wagers,

Where horfes have been nimbler than the fands
That run i' the clock's behalf. But this is foolery.
Go, bid my woman feign a sickness; say,
She'll home t' her father: and provide me prefently
A riding fuit; no coftlier than would fit
A franklin's housewife.

Pif. Madam, you 're best confider.

Imo. I fee before me, man, nor here, nor here,
Nor what enfues; but have a fog in them,
That I cannot look thro'. Away, I pr'ythee;
Do as I bid thee: there's no more to fay;
Acceffible is none but Milford way.

A Foreft, with a Cave, in Wales.
Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.
Bel. A goodly day not to keep house, with such
Whofe roof's as low as ours. Stoop, boys: this gate

Might well have warm'd old Saturn;-that I Inftructs you how t'adore the heavens; and bows

thought her

As chafte as unfunn'd fnow.

Could I find out

The woman's part in me !-for there's no motion
That tends to vice in man, but I affirm
It is the woman's part: be it lying, note it,
The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers;
Luft, and rank thoughts, hers, hers; revenges hers;
Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, difdain,
Nice-longings, flanders, mutability: [hers,
All faults that name, nay, that hell knows, why,
In part, or all; but, rather, all: for even to vice
They are not conftant, but are changing ftill;
One vice, but of a minute old, for one
Not half fo old as that. I'll write against them,
Deteft them, curfe them:-yet 'tis greater skill
In a true hate, to pray they have their will:
The very devils cannot plague them better.

AWife's Impatience to meet her Husband. O, for a horfe with wings!-Hear'ft thou, fanio?

When you above perceive me like a crow,
That it is place which leffens, and sets off.
And you may then revolve what tales I've told you,
Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war:
This fervice is not fervice, fo being done,
But being fo allow'd: To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we fee:
And often, to our comfort, shall we find
Pi-The fharded beetle in a fafer hold

Than is the full-wing'd eagle. O, this life
Is nobler, than attending for a check;
Richer, than doing nothing for a babe;
Prouder, than rustling in unpaid-for filk:
Such gain the cap of him that makes them fine,
keeps his book uncrofs'd: no life to ours.
Guid. Out of your proof you speak; we, poor,
unfledg'd,
[know not

. He is at Milford-Haven: read, and tell me
How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs
May plod it in a week, why may not I
Glide thither in a day? Then, true Pifanio,
(Who long 'ft, like me, to fee thy lord,wholong'ft-Yet
O, let me bate-but not like me :-yet long ft
But in a fainter kind:-O, not like me;
Formine's beyond, beyond)-fay, and fpeak thick,
(Love's counsellor fhould fill the bores of hearing
To the fmothering of the fenfe)-how far it is
To this fame blefied Milford: And, by th' way.
Tell me how Wales was made fo happy, as
I inherit fuch a haven: But, firft of all,

Have never wing'd from view o' the neft; nor
What air 's from home. Fiaply, this life is beft,
If quiet life be beft; fweeter to you,
That have a tharper known; well correfponding
With your ftiff age: but, unto us, it is
A cell of ignorance; travelling a-bed;

A prifon

A prifon for a debtor, that not dares
To ftride a limit.

Aru. What should we speak of
When we are as old as you? when we fhall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December, how,
In this our pinching cave, fhall we difcourfe
The freezing hours away? We have feen nothing:
We are beaftly; fubtle as the fox, for prey:
Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat :
Our valour is, to chafe what flies; our cage
We make a quire, as doth the prifon'd bird,
And fing our bondage freely.

Bel. How you speak!

Did you but know the city's ufuries,

And felt them knowingly: the art o' the court,
As hard to leave, as keep; whofe top to climb
Is certain falling, or fo flipp'ry, that
The fear's as bad as falling: The toil of the war,
A pain that only feems to feek out danger
I' the name of fame, and honour; which dies i' the
And hath as oft a fland'rous epitaph, [fearch;
As record of fair act; nay, many times
Doth ill deferve, by doing well; what 's worfe,
Muft curt'fie at the cenfure: O, boys, this ftory
The world may read in me: my body's mark'd
With Roman fwords; and my report was once
First with the best of note: Cymbeline lov'd me,
And when a foldier was the theme, my name
Was not far off: then was I as a tree [night,
Whofe boughs did bend with fruit: but, in one
A ftorm, or robbery, call it what you will,
Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves,
And left me bare to weather.

Guid. Uncertain favour!
[you oft)
Bel. My fault being nothing, (as I have told
But that two villains, whofe falfe oaths prevail'd
Before my perfect honour, fwore to Cymbeline,
I was confederate with the Romans: fo
Follow'd my banishment; and, this twenty years,
This rock, and thefe demefnes, have been my
world :

Where I have liv'd at honeft freedom; paid
More pious debts to Heaven, than in all [tains;

nature,

To break it with a fearful dream of him,
And cry myfelf awake? That's falfe to 's bed?
Woman in Man's Drefs.

You must forget to be a woman; change
Command into obedience; fear and nicenefs,
(The handmaids of all women, or more truly
Woman its pretty felf), into a waggifh courage,
Ready in gibes, quick-anfwered, faucy, and
As quarrellous as the weazel: nay, you must
Forget that rareft treasure of your check,
Expofing it (but O, the harder heart!
Alack, no remedy !) to the greedy touch
Of common kifling Titan; and forget
Your labourfome and dainty trims, wherein
You made great Juno angry.

The Foreft and Cave.
Enter Imogen in Boy's Clothes.
Imo. I fee, a man's life is a tedious one:
I've tir'd myfelf; and for two nights together

The fore-end of my time.-But, up to th' moun-Have made the ground my bed. I thould be fick,

This is not hunters language: he that strikes
The venison firft, fhall be the lord o' th' feaft;
To him the other two fhall minifter;

And we will fear no poifon, which attends
In place of greater state.

The Force of Nature.

How hard it is, to hide the fparks of nature!
Thefe boys know little, they are fons to th' king;
Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive.
They think they're mine: and, though train'd up
thus meanly
[hit
I' the cave, wherein they bow, their thoughts do
The roofs of palaces; and nature prompts them,
In fimple and low things, to prince it, much
Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore,
The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, whom
The king his father call'd Guiderius, Jove!
When on my three-foot ftool I fit, and tell
The warlike feats I've done, his fpirits fly out
Into my ftory: fay-thus mine enemy fell;

But that my refolution helps me.-Milford,
When from the mountain-top Pifanio fhew'd thee,
Thou waft within a ken. O, Jove! I think,
Foundations fly the wretched: fuch, I mean,
Where they should be reliev'd. 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 rich ones fcarce tell true. To lapfe in fulness
Is forer than to lie for need; and falfehood
Is worfe in kings than beggars.-My dear lord!
Thou art one o'the falfe ones: now I think on thee,
My hunger 's gone; but even before, I was
At point to fink for food.-But what is this?
[Seeing the Cave.

Here is a path to it:-'tis fome favage hold;
I were beft not call; I dare not call: yet famine,
Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant.
Plenty, and peace, breed cowards; hardness ever
Of hardinefs is mother.