Upon this fairest Prifoner.
Imo. O the Gods!

When shall we fee again?

Enter Cymbeline, and Lords.

Poft. Alack, the King!

Cym. Thou bafeft thing, avoid, hence, from my Sight: If after this command thou fraught the Court With thy Unworthiness, thou dy't. Away! Thou'rt Poifon to my Blood.

Poft. The Gods protect you,

And blefs the good Remainders of the Court:

I am gone.

Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death

More (harp than this is.

Cym. O difloyal thing,

That should't repair my Youth, thou heap'st

A Year's age on me.

Imo. I beseech you, Sir,

Harm not your felf with your Vexation,

I am fenfeless of your Wrath; a touch more rare
Subdues all Pangs, all Fears.

Cym. Paft Grace? Obedience ?

[Exit.

Imo. Paft Hope, and in Despair, that way past Grace. Cym. That might't have had the fole Son of my Queen. Imo. O bleffed that I might not : I chofe an Eagle, And did avoid a Puttock.

Cym. Thou took'ft a Beggar, would'st have made my Throne A Seat for Basenefs.

Imo. No, I rather added a Luftre to it.
Cym. O thou vile one!

Imo. Sir,

It is your fault that I have lov'd Pofthumus:
You bred him as my Play-fellow, and he is
A Man, worth any Woman; over-buys me
Almoft the Sum he pays.

Cym. What? art thou Mad?

Imo. Almoft, Sir; Heav'n Reftore me: would I were A Neat-herd's Daughter, and my Leonatus

Our Neighbour-Shepherd's Son.

Enter Queen.

Cym. Thou foolish thing;

They were again together, you have done

Not after our Command. Away with her,
And pen her up.

Queen. Befeech your Patience; Peace,

Dear Lady Daughter, peace. Sweet Sovereign,

Leave us to our felves, and make your felf fome Comfort Out of your belt Advice.

Cym. Nay let her languish

A drop of Blood aday, and being aged

Die of this Folly.

Enter Pifanio.

Queen, Fie, you must give way:

[Exit.

Flere is your Servant. How now, Sir? What News?

Pif. My Lord your Son, drew on my Mafter.
Queen. Hah!

No harm, I truft, is done?

Pif. There might have been,

But that my Master rather play'd than fought,
And had no help of Anger: they were parted
By Gentlemen, at hand.

Queen. I am very glad on't.

Imo. Your Son's my Father's Friend, he takes his part To draw upon an Exile; O brave Sir,

I would they were in Africk both together,

My felf by with a Needle, that I might prick
The goer back. Why came you from your Mafter?
Pif. On his command; he would not fuffer me

To bring him to the Haven: Left thefe Notes
Of what Commands I fhould be fubject to,
When't please you to employ me.

Queen. This hath been

Your faithful Servant: I dare lay mine Honour
He will remain fo,

Pif. I humbly thank your Highness.

Queen. Pray walk a while.

Imo. About fome half Hour hence, pray you speak 'with

me;

You fhall, at least, go fee my Lord aboard.

For this time leave me.

Enter Cloten, and two Lords.

[Exeunt.

1 Lord. Sir, I would advise you to fhift a Shirt; the Vic lence of Action hath made you reek as a Sacrifice: Where

Air comes out, Air comes in: There's none abroad fo whol

Come as that you vent.

Clot. If my Shirt were bloody, then to shift it

Have I hurt him?

2 Lord. No faith: Not fo much as his Patience.

1 Lord. Hurt him? His Body's a passable Carkass if he be not hurt. It is through-fare for Steel if it be not hurt.

2 Lord. His Steel was in debt, it went o'th' Back-fide the Town.

Clo. The Villain would not ftand me.

2 Lord. No, but he fled forward ftill, toward your Face. 1 Lord. Stand you? you have Land enough of yourown: But he added to your having, gave you fome ground.

2 Lord. As many Inches, as you have Ocean, Puppies! Clot. I would they had not come between us.

2 Lord.So would I,'till you had measur'd how long a Fool you were upon the Ground.

Clot. And that he should love this Fellow, and refufe me! 2 Lord. Ifit be a Sin to make a true Election, she is damn'd. I Lord. Sir,as I told you always, her Beauty and her Brain go not together. She's a good Siga, but I have feen fmall reflection of her Wit.

2 Lord. She shines not upon Fools, left the reflection Should hurt her.

Clot. Come, I'll to my Chamber: would there had been fome hurt done.

2 Lord. I with not fo, unless it had been the fall of an Afs, which is no great hurt.

Clot. You'll go with us?

1 Lord. I'll attend your Lordship. Clot. Nay come, let's go together.

2 Lord. Well, my Lord.

Enter Imogen, and Pifanio.

[Exeunt.

Imo. I would thou grew'It unto the Shores o'th' Haven, And questioned'ft every Sil: If he fhould write,

And I not have it, 'twere a Paper loft

As offer'd Mercy is: What was the last

That he spake to thee?

Pif. It was his Queen, his Queen.
Imo. Then wav'd his Handkerchief?
Pif. And kiss'd it, Madam.

Imo. Senfelefs Linnen, happier therein than I: And that was all?

Pif. No, Madam; for fo long

And as he could make me with his Eyes, or Ear,
Diftinguish him from others, he did keep

The Deck, with Glove, or Hat, or Handkerchief,
Still waving, as the fit and ftirs of's mind

Could best express how flow his Sɔul fail'd on,
How fwift his Ship.

Imo. Thou fhould'ft have made him

As little as a Crow, or lefs, e'er left

To after-eye him.

Pif. Madam, fo I did.

Imo. I would have broke mine Eye-ftrings;

Crack'd them, but to look upon him; 'till the Diminution Offpace, had pointed him sharp as my Needle;

Nay, followed him, 'till he had melted from

The fmallness of a Gnat, to air; and then
Have turn'd mine Eye, and wept. But, good Pifanio,
When fhall we hear from him?.

Pif. Be affur'd, Madam,

With his next Vantage.

Imo. I did not take my leave of him, but had
Moft pretty things to fay; E'er I could tell him
How I would think on him at certain Hours,
Such thoughts, and fuch; or I could make him fwear,
The She's of Italy fhould not betray

Mine Intereft, and his Honuor; or have charg'd him
At the fixth Hour of Morn, at Ncon, at Midnight,
T'encounter me with Oraifons, for then

I am in Heav'n for him; or e'er I could,
Give him that parting Kifs, which I had fet
Betwixt two charming words, comes in my Father,
And like the tyrannous breathing of the North,

Shakes all our buds from growing,

Enter a Lady.

Lady. The Queen, Madam,

Defires your Highnefs Company.

Imo. Thofe things I bid you do, get them difpatch'd,

I will attend the Queen.

Pif. Madam, I fhall.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

Enter Philario, Iachimo, and a French Man.

Iach. Believe it, Sir, I have feen him in Britain; he was then of a Crescent, none expected to prove fo worthy, as fince he hath been allowed the name of. But I could then have look'd on him, without the help of Admiration, though the Catalogue of his endowments had been tabled by his fide, and I to perufe him by Items.

Phil. You speak of him when he was lefs furnish'd, than now he is, with that which makes him both without and within.

French. I have feen him in France; we had very many there, could behold the Sun, with as firm Eyes as he.

lach. This matter of marrying his King's Daughter, wherein he must be weighed rather by her value, than his own, words him, I doubt not, a great deal from the matter. French. And then his banishment.

Iach. Ay, and the approbation of thofe, that weep this lamentable Divorce under her Colours, are wonderfully to extend him; be it but to fortifie her Judgment, which elle an cafie Battery might lay flat, for taking a Beggar without more Quali y. But how comes it, he is to fojourn with you? how creeps acquaintance?

Phil. His Father and I were Soldiers together, to whom I have been often bound for no less than my Life.

Enter Pofthumus.

Here comes the Britain. Let him be fo entertainnd amongst you, as fuits with Gentlemen of your knowing, to a ftranger of his quality. I beseech you all be better known to this Gentleman, whom I commend to you, as a noble Friend of mine. How worthy he is, I will leave to appear hereafter, rather than ftory him in his own hearing.

French. Sir, we have known together in Orleance. Post. Since when I have been debter to you for courte fies, which I will be ever to pay, and yet pay ftill.

French. Sir, you o'er-rate my poor kindness; I was glad I did atone my Countryman and you; it had been pity you should have been put together, with fo mortal a purpofe, as then each bore, upon importance of fo flight and trival a nature.

Poft.