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A prince's courage. Away, I pr’ythee.
Pis. Well, madam, we must take a short farewell
A Room in CYMBELINE's Palace. Enter CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, Lucius, and Lords.
Cym. Thus far; and so farewell.
Thanks, royal sir.
Our subjects, sir,
So, sir. I desire of you
Cym. My lords, you are appointed for that office; The due of honour in no point omit. So, farewell, noble Lucius. Luc.
Your hand, my lord. Clo. Receive it friendly; but from this time forth
I wear it as your enemy.
Sir, the event
Cym. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords, Till he have cross'd the Severn.—Happiness !
[Exeunt Lucius and Lords. Queen. He goes hence frowning; but it honours us, That we have given him cause. Clo.
'Tis all the better : 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 horsemen be in readiness : The powers that he already hath in Gallia Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves His war for Britain. Queen.
'Tis not sleepy business, But must be look'd to speedily, and strongly.
Cym. Our expectation that it would be thus
[Exit an Attendant. Queen.
Re-enter an Attendant.
Where is she, sir ? How
Can her contempt be answer'd ?
Please you, sir,
Queen. My lord, when last I went to visit her,
Her doors lock'd ?
Son, I say, follow the king.
Go, look after.
[Exit CLOTEN. Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus, He hath a drug of mine : I pray, his absence Proceed by swallowing that, for he believes It is a thing most precious. But for her, Where is she gone? Haply, despair hath seiz'd her; Or, wing’d with fervour of her love, she's flown To her desir'd Posthumus. Gone she is To death, or to dishonour; and my end Can make good use of either: she being down, I have the placing of the British crown.
Re-enter CLOTEN. How now, my son!
4 — to the loud noise we make.] The preposition of is mistakenly inserted after “loud” in the folio, 1623 : it is clearly needless to the sense, and injurious to the metre ; but modern editors have usually printed the passage, (without notice) “ to the loud'st of noise we make,” in order to preserve what in fact ought on all accounts to be removed.
'Tis certain, she is fled.
All the better: may
[Exit Queen. Clo. I love, and hate her, for she's fair and royal ; And that she hath all courtly parts, more exquisite Than lady, ladies, woman: from every one The best she hath, and she, of all compounded, Outsells them all. I love her therefore; but, Disdaining me, and throwing favours on The low Posthumus, slanders so 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
O, good my lord !
Alas, my lord !
Where is she, sir? Come nearer;
Pis. O, my all-worthy lord !
All-worthy villain !
Discover where thy mistress is, at once,
[Presenting a Letter. Clo.
Let's see't.—I will pursue her
Or this, or perish.
Clo. Sirrah, is this letter true?
Clo. It is Posthumus' hand; I know't.—Sirrah, if thou would'st not be a villain, but do me true service, undergo those employments, wherein I should have cause to use thee, with a serious industry,—that is, what villany so'er I bid thee do, to perform it directly and truly. I would think thee an honest man: thou shouldest neither want my means for thy relief, nor my voice for thy preferment.
Pis. Well, my good lord.
Clo. Wilt thou serve me? For since patiently and constantly thou hast stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar Posthumus, thou canst not in the course of gratitude but be a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou serve me?
Pis. Sir, I will.
Clo. Give me thy hand; here's my purse. Hast any of thy late master's garments in thy possession?
Pis. I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit he wore when he took leave of my lady and mistress.