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Were you but riding forth to air yourself,
Such parting were too petty. Look here, love;
When Imogen is dead.
How, how! another?
You gentle gods, give me but this I have,
And sear up my embracements from a next
While sense can keep it on. And, sweetest, fairest,
To your so infinite loss, so in our trifles
I still win of you: for my sake wear this;
Upon this fairest prisoner.
Cym. Thou basest thing, avoid! hence, from
If after this command thou fraught the court
The gods protect you!
And bless the good remainders of the court!
I am gone.
116. sear up, wither, shrivel away. Grant White proposed cere, Singer seal, for sear; but the bonds of death 'bind' by wasting away. Probably, however, the associations of 'cere' and cere-cloth (the waxed linen
shroud) suggested the latter
124. see, see each other.
129. the good remainders the 'good' whom I leave behind me.
Imo. There cannot be a pinch in death More sharp than this is.
O disloyal thing,
That shouldst repair my youth, thou heap'st
I beseech you, sir,
Harm not yourself with your vexation :
I am senseless of your wrath; a touch more rare
Past grace? obedience? Imo. Past hope, and in despair; that way, past
Cym. That mightst have had the sole son of my queen!
Imo. O blest, that I might not! I chose an eagle, And did avoid a puttock.
Cym. Thou took'st a beggar; wouldst have made my throne
O thou vile one!
It is your fault that I have loved Posthumus:
What, art thou mad? Imo. Almost, sir: heaven restore me!
A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus
Thou foolish thing! 150
137. that way, past grace; 'past grace' as being past blessedness.
140. puttock, kite.
They were again together: you have done
Leave us to ourselves; and make yourself some
Out of your best advice.
A drop of blood a day; and, being aged,
Die of this folly!
Nay, let her languish
[Exeunt Cymbeline and Lords.
Fie! you must give way.
How now, sir! What
Here is your servant.
Pis. My lord your son drew on my master.
No harm, I trust, is done?
There might have been,
But that my master rather play'd than fought
I am very glad on 't.
Imo. Your son's my father's friend; he takes
To draw upon an exile ! O brave sir!
I would they were in Afric both together;
Myself by with a needle, that I might prick
Why came you from your master ? Pis. On his command: he would not suffer
To bring him to the haven; left these notes
168. needle (probably pronounced neeld).
Of what commands I should be subject to,
This hath been
I humbly thank your highness.
Queen. Pray, walk awhile.
About some half-hour hence,
I pray you, speak with me: you shall at least
SCENE II. The same. A public place.
Enter CLOTEN and two Lords.
First Lord. Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt; the violence of action hath made you reek as a sacrifice where air comes out, air comes in : there's none abroad so wholesome as that you
Clo. If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Have I hurt him?
Sec Lord. [Aside] No, 'faith; not so much as his patience.
First Lord. Hurt him! his body's a passable carcass, if he be not hurt: it is a throughfare for steel, if it be not hurt.
Sec. Lord. [Aside] His steel was in debt; it went o' the backside the town.
Clo. The villain would not stand me.
Sec. Lord. [Aside] No; but he fled forward still, toward your face.
176. walk, walk aside, withdraw.
10. passable, allowing free passage.
13. it went o' the backside the town, i.e. slunk, like a debtor avoiding his creditors, round the outskirts of Cloten's person.
First Lord. Stand you! You have land enough of your own but he added to your having; gave you some ground.
Sec. Lord. [Aside] As many inches as you have Oceans. Puppies!
Clo. I would they had not come between us.
Sec. Lord. [Aside] So would I, till you had measured how long a fool you were upon the ground.
Clo. And that she should love this fellow and refuse me!
Sec. Lord. [Aside] If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damned.
First Lord. Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not together: she's a good sign, but I have seen small reflection of her wit. Sec. Lord. [Aside] She shines not upon fools,
lest the reflection should hurt her.
Clo. Come, I'll to my chamber.
had been some hurt done!
Sec. Lord. [Aside] I wish not so; unless it had been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt.
Clo. You'll go with us?
First Lord. I'll attend your lordship.
Clo. Nay, come, let's go together.
Sec. Lord. Well, my lord.
SCENE III. A room in Cymbeline's palace.
Enter IMOGEN and PISANIO.
Imo. I would thou grew'st unto the shores o' the haven,
And question'dst every sail: if he should write,
33. sign, outward semblance; show.