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By her election may be truly read,
Even out of your report.
His only child.
He had two sons (if this be worth your hearing, Mark it,) the eldest of them at three years old, I'the swathing clothes the other, from their nursery Were stolen and to this hour, no guess in knowledge
Which way they went. 2 Gent.
I honour him
But, 'pray you, tell me,
How long is this ago?
1 Gent. Some twenty years.
2 Gent. That a king's children should be so convey'd !
So slackly guarded! And the search so slow,
Howsoe'er 'tis strange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at, Yet is it true, sir. 2 Gent.
I do well believe you.
1 Gent. We must forbear: Here comes the
Enter the Queen, Posthumus, and Imogen.
Queen. No, be assur'd, you shall not find me, daughter,
After the slander of most step-mothers,
I will be known your advocate: marry, yet
You lean'd unto his sentence, with what patience
Please your highness,
I will from hence to-day.
Dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant
I something fear my father's wrath; but nothing (Always reserv'd my holy duty,) what
His rage can do on me: You must be gone;
To walk this way: I never do him wrong,
Should we be taking leave
As long a term as yet we have to live,
Were you but riding forth to air yourself,
How how! another?
[Putting on the ring. While senset can keep it on! And sweetest, fairest, As I my poor self did exchange for you, To your so infinite loss; so, in our trifles I still win of you: For my sake, wear this; It is a manacle of love; I'll place it Upon this fairest prisoner.
[Putting a bracelet on her arm. O, the gods!
Enter Cymbeline and Lords.
Alack, the king! Cym. Thou basest thing, avoid! hence, from my sight!
If, after this command, thou fraught the court
The gods protect you! And bless the good remainders of the court! I am gone. Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death More sharp than this is.
O disloyal thing,
* Close up.
I beseech you, sir, + Sensation.
Harm not yourself with your vexation; I
Past grace? obedience? Imo. Past hope, and in despair; that way, past
A seat for baseness.
Cym. That might'st have had the sole† son of my queen!
Imo. O bless'd, that I might not! I chose an eagle,
And did avoid a puttock ‡.
Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; would'st have made my throne
A lustre to it.
; a touch more rare
No; I rather added
O thou vile one!
It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus:
What!-art thou mad! Imo. Almost, sir: Heaven restore me!-'Would I were
A neat-herd's § daughter! and my Leonatus
Cym. Thou foolish thing!They were again together: you have done
[To the Queen.
Not after our command. Away with her,
*A more exquisite feeling.
'Beseech your patience :-Peace, Dear lady daughter, peace ;-Sweet sovereign, Leave us to ourselves; and make yourself some
Out of your best advice*,
A drop of blood a day; and, being aged,
Nay, let her languish
Fye! you must give way:
Here is your servant. How now, sir? What news? Pis. My lord your son drew on my master. Queen.
No harm, I trust, is done?
Pis. There might have been, But that my master rather play'd than fought, And had no help of anger: they were parted By gentlemen at hand.
I am very glad on't.
Imo. Your son's my father's friend; he takes his
To draw upon an exile !-O brave sir !—
Pis. >Queen. Pray, walk a while.
About some half hour hence, I pray you, speak with me: you shall, at least, Go see my lord aboard: for this time, leave me.
I humbly thank your highness.