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Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can,
A Room in Cymbeline's Palace.
Enter CYMBELINE, Lords, and PISANIO. Cym. Again; and bring me word, how 'tis with her. A fever with the absence of her son ; A madness, of which her life's in danger :-Heavens, How deeply you at once do touch me! Imogen, The great part of my comfort, gone : my queen Upon a desperate bed; and in a time When fearful wars point at me; her son gone, So needful for this present : It strikes me, past The hope of comfort.-But for thee, fellow, Who needs must know of her departure, and Dost seem so ignorant, we'll enforce it from thee By a sharp torture.
Pis. I humbly set it at your will: But, for my mistress, I nothing know where she remains, why gone, Nor when she purposes return. 'Beseech your high
Good, my liege,
life is yours,
All parts of his subjection loyally.
The time's troublesome : We'll slip you for a season ; but our jealousy
[To PISANIO. Does yet depend. 1 Lord.
So please your majesty, The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn, Are landed on your coast ; with a supply Of Roman gentlemen, by the senate sent.
Cym. Now for the counsel of my son, and queen! I am amaz'd with matter. 8 i Lord.
Good my liege,
I thank you : Let's withdraw :
8 Confounded by a variety of business.
Wherein I am false, I am honest ; not true, to be true. These present wars shall find I love my country, Even to the notez o'the king, or I'll fall in them. All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd : Fortune brings in some boats, that are not steer'd.
Before the Cave.
Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.
Let us from it.
Nay, what hope
This is, sir, a doubt, In such a time, nothing becoming you,
4 An account.
Nor satisfying us.
It is not likely,
0, I am known
Than be so,
By this sun that shines,
the holy sun, to have
S Noticing us.
So long a poor unknown.
By heavens, I'll go :
So say I; Amen.
you set So slight a valuation, should reserve My crack'd one to more care. Have with you, boys: If in your country wars you chance to die, That is my bed too, lads, and there I'll lie : Lead, lead. The time seems long; their blood thinks scorn,
[Aside. Till it fly out, and show them princes born.
SCENEI. A Field between the British and Roman
Enter Posthumus, with a bloody Handkerchief.
Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for I wish'd Thou should'st be colour'd thus. You married ones, If each of you would take this course, how many Must murder wives much better than themselves, For wrying but a little ?-O, Pisanio! Every good servant does not all commands : No bond, but to do just ones.-Gods ! if you Should have ta’en vengeance on my faults, I never
6 Deviating from the right way.