You lean'd unto his fentence, with what patience Queen. You know the peril : I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying [Exit. Poft. My Queen! my mistress! O Lady, weep no more, left I give cause Than doth become a man, I will remain The loyall'ft husband, that did e'er plight troth; Who to my father was a friend, to me Re-enter Queen. Queen. Be brief, I pray you; If the King come, I fhall incur I know not How much of his difpleasure -yet I'll move him [Afide. To walk this way; I never do him wrong, 8 But he buys off my injuries to be friends, Pays dear for my offences. Pot. Should we be taking leave As long a term as yet we have to live, 8 does buy [Exit. The The lothness to depart would grow: adieu. Were you but riding forth to air your felf, Look here, love, 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 sweetest, fairest, [Putting a bracelet on her arm. ENE Enter Cymbeline, and Lords. Poft. Alack, the King! III. Cym. Thou bafeft thing, avoid, hence, from my fight: If after this command thou fraught the Court With thy unworthiness, thou dy't. Away! Poft. The Gods protect you, And bless the good remainders of the Court! I'm gone. Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death More fharp than this is. Cym. O difloyal thing, 9 [Exit. That should't repair my youth, thou 'heapest many 9 heap'ft a year's H 4 A year's A year's age on me. Imo. I beseech you, Sir, Harm not your felf with your vexation; I'm fenfelefs of your wrath; Subdues all pangs, all fears. a touch more rare Cym. Patt grace? obedience? Imo. Paft hope, and in defpair; that way paft grace. And did avoid a puttock. [throne Cym. Thou took'ft a beggar; woud'ft have made my A feat for bafenefs. 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 restore 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 And pen her up. Queen. 'Befeech your patience; peace, Dear lady daughter, peace. Sweet Sovereign, Leave us t' ourselves, and make your felf fome comfort Out of your beft advice, Cym. Nay, let her languish A drop of blood a-day, and being aged Die of this folly. [Exit. Enter Enter Pifanio. Queen. Fie, you must give way: Here is your fervant. How now, Sir? what news? No harm, I trust, is done? Pif. There might have been, But that my mafter rather play'd than fought, Queen. I'm very glad on't. 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 Africk both together, My felf by with a needle, that I might prick The goer-back. Why came you from your mafter? To bring him to the haven: left these notes Of what commands I fhould be fubject to, 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 speak with me; You fhall, at leaft, go fee my Lord aboard. For this time leave me. I Lord. SCENE IV. Enter Cloten, and two Lords. SIR, [Exeunt. R, I would advise you to fhift a hirt; the violence of action hath made you reek Where air comes out, air comes in: there's none abroad fo wholesome as that you vent. as a facrifice. Clot. Clot. If my fhirt were bloody, then to shift it Have I hurt him? 2 Lord No, 'faith: not fo much as his patience,[Afide. 1 Lord. Hurt him? his body's a paffable carcafs 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' back[Afide. fide the town. Clot. The villain would not stand me. 2 Lord. No, but he fled forward ftill, toward your face. [Afide. 1 Lord. Stand you? you have land enough of your own; but he added to your having, gave you fome ground. 2 Lord. As many inches as you have oceans, puppies! [Afide Clot. I would they had not come between us. 2 Lord. So would I, till you had measur'd how long [Afide Clot. And that the fhould love this fellow, and refufe a fool you were upon the ground. me! 2 Lord. If it be a fin to make a true election, fhe's damn'd. [Afide 1 Lord. Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not together. She's a good fign, but I have feen small reflection of her wit. 2 Lord. She fhines not upon fools, left the reflection fhould hurt her. [Afide Clot. Come, I'll to my chamber: would there had been fome hurt done! 2 Lord. I with not fo; unless it had been the fall of an afs, which is no great hurt. Clot. You'll go with us? 1 Lord. I'll attend your Lordship. [Afide. [Exeunt. SCENE |