Were you but riding forth to air yourself, When Imogen is dead. Post. How, how! another? You gentle gods, give me but this I have, With bonds of death! [Putting on the ring.] Remain, remain thou here While sense can keep it on. And, sweetest, fairest, To your so infinite loss, so in our trifles Upon this fairest prisoner. Imo. [Putting a bracelet upon her arm. When shall we see again? 110 120 Post. Enter CYMBELINE and Lords. Alack, the king! Cym. Thou basest thing, avoid! hence, from my sight! If after this command thou fraught the court Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death More sharp than this is. Harm not yourself with your vexation : I am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare Cym. Past grace? obedience? Imo. Past hope, and in despair; that way, past grace. Cym. That mightst have had the sole son of my queen! Imo. O blest, that I might not! I chose an eagle, And did avoid a puttock. Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; wouldst have made my throne Sir, 130 140 It is your fault that I have loved Posthumus: Cym. What, art thou mad? Imo. Almost, sir: heaven restore me! I were A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus Would Thou foolish thing! 150 137. that way, past grace; 'past grace' as being past blessedness. 129 140. puttock, kite. K Re-enter QUEEN. They were again together: you have done 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. Cym. A drop of blood a day; and, being aged, Nay, let her languish Queen. Ha! 160 There might have been, Here is your servant. Pis. My lord your son drew on my master. No harm, I trust, is done? Pis. But that my master rather play'd than fought Queen. I am very glad on 't. 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? Pis. On his command: he would not suffer me To bring him to the haven; left these notes 168. needle (probably pronounced neeld). 170 Of what commands I should be subject to, This hath been Queen. Pis. I humbly thank your highness. Queen. Pray, walk awhile. Imo. About some half-hour hence, I pray you, speak with me: you shall at least [Exeunt. SCENE II. 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. Clo. If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Have I hurt him? Sec. Lord. [Aside] No, 'faith; not so much as his patience. ΤΟ First Lord. Hurt him! his body's a passable to carcass, if he be not hurt: it is a throughfare for steel, if it be not hurt. Sec. Lord. [Aside] His steel was in debt; it went o' the backside the town. Clo. The villain would not stand me. Sec. Lord. [Aside] No; still, toward your face. 176. walk, walk aside, withdraw. 10. passable, allowing free passage. but he fled forward 13. it went o' the backside the town, i.e. slunk, like a debtor avoiding his creditors, round the outskirts of Cloten's person. First Lord. Stand you! You have land enough of your own but he added to your having; gave you some ground. Sec. Lord. [Aside] As many inches as you have oceans. Puppies! Clo. I would they had not come between us. Sec. Lord. [Aside] So would I, till you had measured how long a fool you were upon the ground. Clo. And that she should love this fellow and refuse me! Sec. Lord. [Aside] If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damned. 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. Sec. Lord. [Aside] She shines not upon fools, lest the reflection should hurt her. Clo. Come, I'll to my chamber. had been some hurt done! Would there Sec. Lord. [Aside] I wish not so; unless it had been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt. Clo. You'll go with us? First Lord. I'll attend your lordship. Clo. Nay, come, let's go together. Sec. Lord. Well, my lord. [Exeunt. SCENE III. A room in Cymbeline's palace. Enter IMOGEN and PISANIO. Imo. I would thou grew'st unto the shores o' And question'dst every sail: if he should write, 33. sign, outward semblance; show. 20 30 40 |