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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; Ambitious, covetings, change of prides, disdain, Nice longings, slanders, mutability, All faults that may be nam’d, nay, that hell knows, Why, hers, in part, or all; but, rather, all: For ev'n 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’tis greater skill In a true hate, to pray they have their will: The very devils cannot plague them better.
IMPATIENCE OF A WIFE TO MEET HER HUSBAND.
O, FOR a horse with wings !-Hear'st thou, Pisanio? 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 Pisanio, (Who long'st, like me, to see thy lord; who longost,0, let me bate,-but not like me:-yet long'st,But in a fainter kind ;-0, not like me; For mine's 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 hence; and, for the gap,
* Crowd one word on another, as fast as possible.
That we shall make in time, from our hence-going,
One score, 'twixt sun and sun, Madam, 's enough for you; and too much too.
Imo. Why, one that rode to his execution, man, Could never go so slow: I have heard of riding wagers, Where horses have been nimbler than the sands That run i'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. Pisa.
Madam, you're best consider. Imo. 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 prythee: Do as I bid thee: There's no more to say; Accessible is none but Milford way. [Exeunt.
SCENE. Wales. A mountainous Country, with a Cave.
Enter BelARIUS, Guiderius, and ARVIRAGUS.
* A freeholder.
+ Strut, walk proudly,
Bel. Now, for our mountain sport: Up to yon hill, Your legs are young; I'll tread these flats. Consider, When you above perceive me like a crow, That it is 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 allow'd: To apprehend thus, Draws us a profit from all things we see: And often, to our comfort, shall we find The shaj ded* beetle in a safer 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 silk: Such gain the cap of him, that makes them fine, Yet keeps his book uncross'd: no life to ourst. Gui. Out of your proof you speak: we, poor unfledg’d,
[not Have never wing'd from view o' the nest; nor know What air's from home. Haply, this life is best, If quiet life be best; sweeter to you, That have a sharper known; well corresponding With your stiff age: but, anto us, it is A cell of ignorance; travelling abed ; A prison for a debtor, that not dares To stride a limiti Arv.
What should we speak of, When we are old as you? when we shall hear The rain and wind beat dark December, how In this our pioching cave, shall we discourse The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing: We are beastly; subtle as the fox, for prey ; Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat: Our valour is, to chase what flies; our cage We make a quire, as doth the prison bird, And sing our bondage freely.
Scaly-winged. ti. e. Compared with ours. # To overpass his bound.
How you speak! Did you but know the city's usuries, And felt them knowingly: the art o'the court, As hard to leave, as keep; whose top to climb Is certain falling, or so slippery, that The fear's as bad as falling : the toil of the war, A pain that only seems to seek out danger I’ the name of fame, and honour; which dies i’ the And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph, [search; As record of fair act; nay, many times, Doth ill deserve by doing well ; what's worse, Must court'sey at the censure:-0, boys, this story The world may read in me: My body's mark'd With Roman swords : and my report was once First with the best of note : Cymbeline lovd me; And when a soldier was the theme, my name Was not far off: Then was I as a tree, Whose boughs did bend with fruit: but in one night, A storm, or robbery, call it what you will, Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, And left me bare to weather. Gui.
Uncertain favour ! Bel. My fault being nothing as (I have told you oft,) But that two villains, whose false oaths prevailid Before my perfect honour, swore to Cymbeline, I was confederate with the Romans: so, Follow'd my banishment; and, this twenty years, This rock, and these demesnes, have been my world: Where I have liv'd 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 first, shall be the lord o' the feast; To him the other two shall minister; And we will fear no poison, which attends In place of greater state.
THE FORCE OF NATURE. How hard it is, to hide the sparks of nature! These boys know little, they are sons to the king;
Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive.
WOMAN IN MAN'S APPAREL.
Weariness Can snore upon the flint, when restive sloth Finds the down pillow hard.
* The san.