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IMOGEN. No; I rather added A lustre to it.

CYMBELINE. O thou vile one!

IMOGEN. Sir, It is your fault that I have lov'd Posthumus. You bred him as my playfellow, and he is A man worth any woman; overbuys me Almost the sum he pays.

CYMBELINE. What, art thou mad?

IMOGEN. Almost, sir; heaven restore me! Would I were A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus Our neighbour shepherd's son!

[Re-enter QUEEN.]

CYMBELINE. Thou foolish thing! --They were again together; you have done Not after our command. Away with her, And pen her up.

QUEEN. Beseech your patience. Peace, Dear lady daughter, peace! Sweet sovereign, Leave us to ourselves, and make yourself some comfort Out of your best advice.

CYMBELINE. Nay, let her languish A drop of blood a day; and, being aged, Die of this folly!


[Enter PISANIO.]

QUEEN. Fie! you must give way. Here is your servant. How now, sir! What news?

PISANIO. My lord your son drew on my master.

QUEEN. Ha! No harm, I trust, is done?

PISANIO. 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.

QUEEN. I am very glad on't.

IMOGEN. Your son'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; Myself by with a needle, that I might prick The goer-back. Why came you from your master?

PISANIO. On his command. He would not suffer me To bring him to the haven; left these notes Of what commands I should be subject to, When't pleas'd you to employ me.

QUEEN. This hath been Your faithful servant. I dare lay mine honour He will remain so.

PISANIO. I humbly thank your Highness.

QUEEN. Pray, walk a while.

IMOGEN. 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.



The same. A public place.

[Enter CLOTEN and two LORDS.]

FIRST LORD. Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt; the violence of action hath made you reek as a sacrifice. Where air comes out, air comes in; there's none abroad so wholesome as that you vent.

CLOTEN. If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Have I hurt him?



No, faith; not so much as his patience.

FIRST LORD. Hurt him! His body's a passable carcass, if he be not hurt; it is a throughfare for steel, if it be not hurt.



His steel was in debt; it went o' the backside the town.

CLOTEN. The villain would not stand me.



No; but he fled forward still, toward your face.

FIRST LORD. Stand you! You have land enough of your own; but he added to your having, gave you some ground.



As many inches as you have oceans. Puppies!

CLOTEN. I would they had not come between us.



So would I, till you had measur'd how long a fool you were upon the ground.

CLOTEN. And that she should love this fellow and refuse me!



If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damn'd.

FIRST LORD. Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not together. She's a good sign, but I have seen small reflection of her wit.



She shines not upon fools, lest the reflection should hurt her.

CLOTEN. Come, I'll to my chamber. Would there had been some hurt done!



I wish not so; unless it had been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt.

CLOTEN. You'll go with us?

FIRST LORD. I'll attend your lordship.

CLOTEN. Nay, come, let's go together.

SECOND LORD. Well, my lord.



A room in CYMBELINE'S palace.


IMOGEN. I would thou grew'st unto the shores o' the haven, And question'dst every sail. If he should write And I not have it, 'twere a paper lost, As offer'd mercy is. What was the last That he spake to thee?

PISANIO. It was his queen, his queen!

IMOGEN. Then wav'd his handkerchief?

PISANIO. And kiss'd it, madam.

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