University of Virginia Library

Enter behind Cymbeline, Queen, a Purse, Pisanio, Doctor and Guards, a Viol, Mrs. Holten, Sue.
Cym.
Not seen, nor to be spoke with?

Queen.
She's too haughty,
And since the exile of her abject Minion,
Proves a stranger both to Manners and Obedience.

Cym.
She shall be forc'd to Duty.
What disobey her Father, slight her Queen?
Now by the awful Powers that sway the Heavens,
Paternal Love and Mildness I disclaim,
And as a Corrasive to my sick heart,
Hold her for ever.

Pisan.
Please your Majesty.

Cym.
Pisanio, do not speak.
I have with watchful eye observ'd thy actions,
Oft prob'd thy heart, and found it still corrupted,
Still link'd and fetter'd to that banish'd Fellow,
Maugre our strict Commands, and deep Resentments.
Why dost thou shame thy Age, and smile upon us?
Bend low thy knees as loyal, that art known
A Rebel to our Peace—Come, this is not well.

Pisan.
Royal Sir, and my most honour'd Master,
In whose bless'd favour I was ever happy,
Whom I have lov'd from my hearts core, obey'd with joy,
As King, and Genius of the War, followed through death,
And as a God ador'd for Clemency.

Queen.
O smooth-tongu'd Vice, O Flatterer!

[Aside to the King.
Pisan.
Brand not your poor old Souldier, I beseech you,
With breach of Loyalty. I rebel to your Peace?
These Cheeks that have been furrow'd in your Service;
This Body scarr'd with wounds; these low sunk Tapers
Now dully shining in their wither'd Sockets,
And spent with watching in cold Winter Camps,
Have still been careful to preserve your Peace,
Not to disturb it. How then am I a Rebel?
Plebeian Sound it freezes all my bloud,
And adds a sharper Winter to my Age.

Queen.
The silver Hairs that grace thy Reverend Head,
Should grow in Wisdoms Soyl, thou shouldst be
Loyal: But who can tell a Murderer by his Face,
Or know when Treason's candi'd o're with Vertue?
'Tis said you love Ursaces, wish him King,
In hopes to make your self and Daughter mighty:
But these are but Reports, and claim small credit.

Pisan.
Slanders, hellish Slanders.
The poys'nous Bite of some detracting Villain,
That thinks my glass of Life has run too long:
So may my better part, my immortal Soul,
That guides the Orders of this aged Body,
And dignifies it from the sordid Bruit,
Return to its first Seat, its primitive Glory,
As I have always wish'd my Soveraign's Life,
And oft with hazard of my own defended it.
'Tis true I love Ursaces.

Queen.
Ha, mind that Sir!

Cymb.
You love him then, and tho' your enervate power
Dare not oppose our rage, you wish him well.

Pisan.
As he deserves Sir, modestly I think.
His Vertues merit some small approbation;
He's honest, valiant, and what's more, judicious;
Wise to his Youth, and temperate to his Judgement.
I once remember Sir, when the great Cassibelan
Sent me against the stubborn Cambria Rebels,
Then up in Arms, headed by old Bellarius,
At Milford-haven, I took Ursaces with me,
Who tho' a beardless Boy of 16 years,
Show'd many signal proofs of manly Valour,
Flesh'd his young Arm, and dy'd his virgin Sword,
In the best bloud of your proud Enemies.
This was some proof of Vertue, and deserves
Sure some applause.

Queen.
He was rewarded for it.
His Majesty heap'd daily favours on him,
Bless'd him with smiles, and gave him the permission
Like a young Bird to wanton in his shine,
And grow even till he grew insolent,
And like a Bruit,
Sullied the Royal Spring that quench'd his thirst.

Pisan.
The Bonds of Love and Nature.

Cym.
Speak no more.
Upon thy Life no more in his defence.
Rash headlong Fool—how dar'st thou shock my will,
Or stand betwixt his sentence and my power?
Your service past pleads for you; but a second Crime
Of this curs'd nature rends thee from my Clemency.

[Exit.
Queen.
My Lord, You were to blame t'enrage the King,
With lavish praise of that desertless Exile:
But be not troubled, I will appear your Friend,
And stand between his anger and your fault.
Doctor, a word; my Lord, for a time leave us.

Pisan.
Thank your Majesty.
She's kind o'th' sudden, pray Heaven it portend good:
Such Flashes from her, like Etherial fire,
Are followed with a Thunder-bolt; I must be watchful.

[Exit.
Queen.
Yes, I will stand thy Friend, and such a one,
As fire to Cities, kindl'd by some Traitors;
Or the long-wing'd Hawk, to the weak prey she trusses.
Now, Doctor, have you brought the Drugs?

Doctor.
They are here, Madam.

Queen.
Well, there's your reward: Lock up your lips with the Key of
Secresie; whatever thou know'st, say nothing;
Do this; I'le load thy merit richly, move the King
To any shape for thy preferment: fare thee well;
Be faithful, then be great, thou hast my power.

[Exeunt.
Doctor.
That is, be a Rogue, and thrive; no Idol Greatness,
Thou guilded Pill, swallow'd by many thousands,
Ne're shalt thou infect my honesty.—She thinks she has
Strange lingring poyson; but I well knew her spirit,
And wou'd not trust one of her malice with a Drug
Of that damn'd nature: Those she has
Will stupifie and dull the sence a while,
And seemingly destroy; but there is
No danger in what show of death it makes,
More than the locking up the spirits a while,
To be more fresh reviving.—She is gull'd
With a most false Effect, and I the truer,
Hindring her black design with honesty.

[Exit.