Hear me with patience. Imo. Talk thy tongue weary, fpeak, I've heard I am a strumpet; and mine ear (Therein false struck) can take no greater wound, Pif. Then, Madam, I thought you would not back again. Imo. Moft like, Bringing me here to kill me. Pif. Not fo neither; But if I were as wife as honest, then My purpose would prove well; it cannot be, Imo. Some Roman courtezan Pif. No, on my life. I'll give him notice you are dead, and send him Imo. Why, good fellow, What fhall I do the while? where 'bide? how live? Dead to my husband? Pif. If you'll back to th' court Imo. No court, no father; nor no more ado. Pif. If not at court, Then not in Britain muft you 'bide. Imo. Where then? Hath Britain all the fun that fhines? day, night, Are they not but in Britain? I' th' world's volume: Our Britain feems as of it, but not in it; In a great pool, a fwan's neft. There's living out of Britain. Pif. I'm moft glad, Pr'ythee think You think of other place: th' ambaffador, To-morrow. Now, if you could wear a mien Dark as your fortune is, and but difguise Imo. Oh! for fuch means, Thongh peril to my modefty, not death on't Pif. Well then, here's the point. You must forget to be a woman; change 'Command into obedience; fear and nicenefs (The handmaids of all women, or, more truly, • Woman its pretty felf) to waggish courage; Ready in gibes, quick-anfwer 'd, faucy, and, 'As quarrellous as the weazel: nay, you must Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek; Expofing it (but, oh, the harder hap! Alack, no remedy) to the greedy touch Of common-kiffing Titan; and forget Your labourfome and dainty trims, wherein 'You made great Juno angry. Imo. Nay, be brief. I fee into thy end, and am almost A man already. Pif. First, make yourself but like one Fore-thinking this, I have already fit, (Tis in my cloak-bag), doublet, hat, hofe, all From youth of fuch a feafon, 'fore noble Lucius Beginning, nor fupply. Imo. hou'rt all the comfort i.e. likely to prove fuccessful. The gods will diet me with. Pr'ythee, away. I'm foldier to, and will abide it with A prince's courage. Away, 1 pr'ythee. Pif. Well, Madam, we must take a fhort farewel; Left, being mifs'd, I be fufpected of Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress, Imo. Amen. I thank thee. [Exeunt feverally. SCENE V. Changes to the palace of Cymbeline. Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, Lucius, Lords, and Attendants. Cym. Thus far, and fo farewel. Luc. Thanks, Royal Sir. My Emperor hath wrote; I muft from hence; My master's enemy. Cym. Our fubjects, Sir, Will not endure his yoke; and for ourself Luc. So, Sir. I defire of you A conduct over land, to Milford-haven, Madam, all joy befal your Grace, and you! Cym. My Lords, you are appointed for that office; The due of honour in no point omit. So, farewel, Noble Lucius. Luc. Your hand, my Lord. Clot. Receive it friendly; but from this time forth I wear it as your enemy. Luc. Th' event Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well, Cym. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my Lords, Till he have crofs'd the Severn. Happiness! [Exit Lucius, &û. Queen. He goes hence frowning; That we have giv'n him cause. Clot. 'Tis all the better; but it honours us, Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it. Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the Emperor, How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely, Our chariots and our horfemen be in readiness; The powers that he already hath in Gallia, Will foon be drawn to head, from whence he moves His war for Britain. Queen. 'Tis not fleepy business; But must be look'd to speedily, and strongly. Queen. Royal Sir, [Exit a Servant. Since the exile of Pofthumus, most retir'd Re-enter the Servant. Cym. Where is fhe, Sir? how Can her contempt be anfwer'd? Her chambers are all lock'd, and there's no answer She wifh'd me to make known; but our great court Cym. Her doors lock'd? Not feen of late? grant heav'ns, that which I fear Prove falfe! [Exit. [Exit. [To the Servant. Queen. Son, I fay, follow the King. Clot That man of her's, Pifanio, her old fervant, I have not seen these two days. Queen. Go, look after Pifanio, thou that stand'ft fo for Pofthumus ! Where is the gone? haply despair hath fiez'd her; Can make good use of either. She being down, How now, my fon? Re-enter Cloten. 'Glot. 'Tis certain fhe is fled; Go in and cheer the King, he rages, none Queen. All the better; may This night fore-stall him of the coming day! [Exit Queen Glot. I love and hate her ;-for fhe's fair and royal, And that the hath all courtly parts more exquifite Than lady ladies *; winning from each one The best the hath, and the of all compounded Outfells them all: I love her therefore. But, Difdaining me, and throwing favours on The low Polthumus, flanders fo her judgment, That what's else rare is chok'd; and in that point I will conclude to hate her, nay indeed To be reveng'd upon her. For when fools Shall SCENE VI. Enter Pifanio. Who is here? what! are you packing, firrah? lady is a plural verb, and ladies a noun governed of it. |