Were you but riding forth to air yourself, Poft. How, how, another! You gentle Gods, give me but this I have, With bonds of death. Remain, remain thou here, [Putting on the ring. While fenfe can keep thee on! and Sweeteft, Faireft, As I my poor felf did exchange for you, To your fo infinite lofs; fo, in our trifles I ftill win of you. For my fake, wear this; It is a manacle of love, I'll place it Upon this faireft pris'ner. [Putting a bracelet on her arm. When fhall we fee again? SCENE III. Enter Cymbeline, and Lords. Post. A LACK, the King Thir Cym. Thou basfest Thing, avoid; hence, from my fight: If, after this Command, thou fraught the Court Thou'rt poifon to my blood. Poft. The Gods protect you, And blefs the good remainders of the Court! I'm gone. Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death More sharp than this is. Cym. O difloyal thing, That fhould't repair my youth, thou heap'ft A yare age on me. [Exit. Imo. I beseech you, Sir, Harm not yourself with your Vexation; Cym. Paft grace? obedience? Imo. Paft hope, and in defpair; that way, paft grace, Cym. Thou might'ft have had the fole fon of my Queen. Imo. O, bleft, that I might not! I chose an eagle, And did avoid a puttock. Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; would'ft have made my Throne A Seat for Bafeness. Imo. No, I rather added A luftre to it. Cym. O thou vile one! Imo. Sir, It is your fault, that I have lov'd Pofthumus : Cym. What! -art thou mad? Imo. Almoft, Sir; heav'n reftore me! 'would I were A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus Our neighbour-fhepherd's fon! Enter Queen. Cym. Thou foolish Thing; They were again together, you have done [To the Queen. Not after our Command. Away with her, And pen her up. Queen. Befeech you patience; peace, Dear lady daughter, peace. Sweet Sovereign, Leave us t'ourselves, and make yourself fome.comfort Out of your beft advice. Cym. A drop of blood a-day; and, being aged, Die of this folly. Enter Pifanio. Queen. Fie, you must give way: [Exit. Here is your fervant. How now, Sir? what news? Pif. My lord your fon drew on my mafter. No harm, I truft, is done? Pif. There might have been, a But that my master rather play'd, than fought, Queen. I'm very glad on't. 1. Imo. Your fon's my father's friend, he takes his part. To draw upon an exile: O brave Sir! I would they were in Afric both together, Queen. This hath been Your faithful fervant: I dare lay mine honour, Pif. I humbly thank your Highness. Queen. Pray, walk a while. Imo. About fome half hour hence, pray you, fpeak with me; You shall, at leaft, go fee my Lord aboard. From this time leave me. 1 Lord. [Exeunt. IR, I would advise you to shift a shirt; the violence of action hath made you reek as a facrifice. Where air comes out, air comes in : there's none abroad so wholesome as That you vent. Clot. If my fhirt were bloody, then to shift itHave I hurt him? 2 Lord. No, faith: Not fo much as his patience. [Afide. 1 Lord. Hurt him? his body's a paffable carcass, if he be not hurt. It is a thorough-fare for fteel, if it be not hurt. 2 Lord. His fteel was in debt, it went o' th' backfide the town. Clot. The villain would not ftand me. o Afide. 2 Lord. No, but he fled forward ftill, towards your face. [Afide. 1 Lord. Stand you? you have land enough of your own; but he added to your Having, gave you fome ground. pies! 2 Lord. As many inches as you have oceans, pupAfide. Clot. I would, they had not come between us. 2 Lord. So would I, 'till you had meafur'd how long a fool you were upon the ground. o Clot. And that fhe fhould love this fellow, and refufe me! Afide. 2 Lord. If it be a fin to make a true election, she's damn'd. [Afide.. 1 Lord. Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not together. She's a good Shine, but I have feen fmall reflexion of her wit. 2 Lord. She fhines not upon fools, left the reflexion fhould hurt her. [Afide. Clot. Come, I'll to my chamber: 'would, there had been fome hurt done! Lord. I wifh not fo; unless it had been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt. Clot. You'll go with us? • Lord. I'll attend your Lordship.: Clot. Nay, come, let's go together. 2 Lord. Well, my Lord.` [Afide. [Exeunt. Imogen's Apartment. Enter Imogen, and Pifanio. Would, thou grew'ft unto the fhores o'th' ha ven, And queftion'd't every fail: if he fhould write, As offer'd mercy is. What was the last Pif. 'Twas, His Queen, his Queen! Imo. Senfelefs linen, happier therein than I! Pif. No, Madam; for fo long As he could make me with this eye, or ear, Imo. Thou should't have made him As little as a crow, or lefs, ere left To after-eye him. Pif. Madam, fo I did. Imo. I would have broke mine eye ftrings; crackt 'em, but To look upon him; 'till the diminution Of's fpace had pointed him fharp as my needle; The fmallness of a gnat, to air; and then Have turn'd mine eye, and wept.-But, good Pifanio, When fhall we hear from him? Pif. Be affur'd, Madam, With his next vantage. 05 Imo. |