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Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night,
Pis. I am most glad
You think of other place. The embassador,
Imo. O, for such means!
Though peril to my modesty, not death on't,
Pis. Well then, here's the point:
Pis. First, make yourself but like one. Fore-thinking this, I have already fit, ('Tis in my cloak-bag,) doublet, hat, hose, all
That answer to them: Would you, in their serving,
From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucius
Imo. Thou art all the comfort
The gods will diet me with. Pr'ythee, away:
A prince's courage. Away, I pr'ythee.
Pis. Well, madam, we must take a short farewell; Lest, being miss'd, I be suspected of Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress, Here is a box: I had it from the queen; What's in't is precious; if you are sick at sea, Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this Will drive away distemper.-To some shade, And fit you to your manhood:-May the gods Direct you to the best!
Imo. Amen: I thank thee.
SCENE V.-A Room in CYMBELINE'S Palace.
Enter CYMBELINE, Queen, CLOTEN, LUCIUS, and Lords.
Cym. Thus far; and so farewell. ·
My emperor hath wrote; I must from hence;
Cym. Our subjects, sir,
Will not endure his yoke; and for ourself
Luc. So, sir, I desire of you
A conduct over land, to Milford-Haven.-
Cym. My lords, you are appointed for that office,
Luc. Your hand, my lord.
Clo. Receive it friendly but from this time forth I wear it as your enemy.
Luc. Sir, the event
Is yet to name the winner: Fare you well.
Cym. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords,
Till he hath 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.
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. Royal sir,
Since the exile of Posthumus, most retir'd
Re-enter an Attendant.
Cym. Where is she, sir? How
Can her contempt be answer'd?
Atten. Please you, sir,
Her chambers are all lock'd; and there's no answer That will be given to the loudest of noise we make.
Queen. My lord, when last I went to visit her, She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close; Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity,
She should that duty leave unpaid to you,
Cym. Her doors lock'd?
Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that, which I fear, Prove false ! [Exit.
Queen. Son, I say, follow the king.
Clo. That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant, I have not seen these two days.
Queen. Go, look after.
[Exit CLOTEN. Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthúmus!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 Posthúmus: Gone she is
To death, or to dishonour; and my end
How now, my son?
Clo. Tis certain she is fled:
Go in, and cheer the king; he rages; none
Queen. All the better: May
This night forestall him of the coming day!
[Exit Queen. Clo. I love, and hate her: for she's fair and royal;