Cymbeline（#2269）
Cymbeline（#2269）
作者：Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616
体例：题 章数：147
字数：127,719 来源：Project Gutenberg
版本与结构
- 来源版本
- 本站收录 1 个来源：Project Gutenberg（127,719 字）。
- 分章依据
- 按「题」标记切分为 147 题（Gutenberg 卷册标记）。
- 篇幅分布
- 平均每题 868 字。
- 原文溯源
cache/epub/2269/pg2269.txt（Project Gutenberg）
章节目录
共 147 题- Bar. Long liue the King
- David Reed
- The Tragedie of Cymbeline
- 2 You speake him farre
- 2 I do well beleeue you
- Exit
- Post. Alacke, the King
- Imo. No, I rather added a lustre to it
- Qu. I am very glad on't
- Pisa. I humbly thanke your Highnesse
- Qu. Pray walke a-while
- Clot. The Villaine would not stand me
- 2 No, but he fled forward still, toward your face
- 2 If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damn'd
- Clot. Nay come, let's go together
- 2 Well my Lord.
- Pisa. Madam, so I did
- French. And then his banishment
- French. Sir, we haue knowne togither in Orleance
- Post. She holds her Vertue still, and I my mind
- Post. I prais'd her, as I rated her: so do I my Stone
- Post. No, no
- Phil. I will haue it no lay
- Post. Agreed
- French. Will this hold, thinke you
- Qu. Hearke thee, a word
- Exit Qu. and Ladies
- Imo. Is he dispos'd to mirth? I hope he is
- Imo. Not he I hope
- Imo. Let me heare no more
- Imo. You make amends
- Imo. O no, no
- 2. To haue smell'd like a Foole
- 2. I, it is fit for your Lordship onely
- Clot. Why so I say
- Clot. Not easily I thinke
- Clocke strikes
- Clot. It would make any man cold to loose
- SONG.
- 2 Heere comes the King
- Clot. Senselesse? Not so
- La. No more
- Clot. Yes, and a Gentlewomans Sonne
- Clot. Good morrow fairest, Sister your sweet hand
- Clot. Still I sweare I loue you
- Clot. This is no answer
- Imo. Fooles are not mad Folkes
- Clot. The South-Fog rot him
- Clot. His Garments? Now the diuell
- Imo. To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently
- Pis. 'Twill not be lost
- Imo. I hope so: go and search
- Clot. I will enforme your Father
- Phi. See Iachimo
- Phil. Welcome Sir
- Iachi. Heere are Letters for you
- Post. Their tenure good I trust
- Iach. 'Tis very like
- Post. The Stones too hard to come by
- Post. Proceed
- Iach. By Iupiter, I had it from her Arme
- Iach. Ile be sworne
- Iach. Ile deny nothing
- Cym. Son, let your Mother end
- Luc. Let proofe speake
- Luc. So sir
- I am ignorant in what I am commanded
- Pisa. Madam, you're best consider
- Guid. Haile Heauen
- Aruir. Haile Heauen
- Gui. Vncertaine fauour
- Pisa. Good Madam, heare me
- Imo. Doo't, and to bed then
- Pis. Ile wake mine eye-balles first
- Cym. Thus farre, and so farewell
- Luc. Your hand, my Lord
- Qu. Sonne, I say, follow the King
- Pis. Oh, good my Lord
- Clo. Humh
- Pis. Well, my good Lord
- Exit
- Exit
- Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Aruiragus
- Gui. I am throughly weary
- Arui. I am weake with toyle, yet strong in appetite
- Gui. Money? Youth
- Bel. He wrings at some distresse
- Gui. Would I could free't
- Gui. Pray draw neere
- Imo. Thankes Sir
- Arui. Brother, farewell
- Imo. I wish ye sport
- Arui. You health. - So please you Sir
- Arui. Wee'l not be long away
- But see thy Brother
- Bel. We are all vndone
- Arui. Wee'l speake it then
- Arui. 'Tis true
- Gui. Come on then, and remoue him
- SONG.
- Guid. Feare no more the Lightning flash
- Arui. Nor th' all-dreaded Thunderstone
- Gui. Feare not Slander, Censure rash
- Arui. Thou hast finish'd Ioy and mone
- Guid. Ghost vnlaid forbeare thee
- Arui. Nothing ill come neere thee
- Cap. Hee's aliue my Lord
- Gui. The noyse is round about vs
- Bel. Let vs from it
- Arui. So say I, Amen
- Iac. 'Tis their fresh supplies
- Lord. Nay, be not angry Sir
- 2.Gao. I, or a stomacke
- Ascends
- All. Thankes Iupiter
- Vanish
- Post. I am merrier to dye, then thou art to liue
- Post. Yes indeed do I, fellow
- Gao. Ile be hang'd then
- Cym. Prythee say
- Imo. I humbly thanke your Highnesse
- Gui. But we see him dead
- Bel. Be silent: let's see further
- Cym. I stand on fire. Come to the matter
- Cym. Nay, nay, to'th' purpose
- Imo. Peace my Lord, heare, heare
- Cym. The tune of Imogen
- Cym. New matter still
- Imo. It poyson'd me
- Bel. My Boyes, there was our error
- Gui. This is sure Fidele
- Imo. I am sorry for't, my Lord
- Gui. Let me end the Story: I slew him there
- Gui. I haue spoke it, and I did it
- Cym. He was a Prince
- Cym. And thou shalt dye for't
- Arui. Your danger's ours
- Guid. And our good his
- Cym. What of him? He is a banish'd Traitor
- Cym. How? my Issue
- Corn. By the Queenes Dramme she swallow'd
- Imo. My good Master, I will yet do you seruice
- Luc. Happy be you
- Luc. Philarmonus
- Sooth. Heere, my good Lord
- Cym. This hath some seeming
- FINIS.