William Shakespeare's Cymbeline in the complete original text.
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Cymbeline

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Act V. Scene I.

Act V. Scene I.—Britain. The Roman Camp.

Enter POSTHUMUS, with a bloody handkerchief.

Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee, for I
wish'd
Thou shouldst be colour'd thus. You married
ones,
If each of you should take this course, how
many
Must murder wives much better than them-
selves
For wrying but a little! O Pisanio!
Every good servant does not all commands;
No bond but to do just ones. Gods! if you
Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I
never
Had liv'd to put on this; so had you sav'd
The noble Imogen to repent, and struck
Me, wretch more worth your vengeance. But,
alack!
You snatch some hence for 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 Imogen is your own; do your best wills,
And make me bless'd to obey. I am brought
hither
Among the Italian gentry, and to fight
Against my lady's kingdom; 'tis enough
That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistress-piece!
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 Briton 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, a death: and thus, unknown,
Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril
Myself I'll dedicate. Let me make men know
More valour in me than my habits show.
Gods! put the strength o' the Leonati in me.
To shame the guise o' the world, I will begin
The fashion, less without and more within.
[Exit.
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