Woman its pretty self,) to a waggish courage;
Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, faucy, and
As quarrellous as the weafel: nay, you must
Forget that rareft treasure of your cheek,
Expofing it (but, O, the harder heart!
Alack, no remedy!) to the greedy touch
Of common-kiffing Titan; and forget
Your labourfome and dainty trims, wherein
You made great Juno angry.

Imo.

Nay, be brief: I fee into thy end, and am almost

A man already.

Pif.

First, make yourself but like one.

Fore-thinking this, I have already fit

('Tis in iny cloak-bag,) doublet, hat, hose, all
That answer to them: Would you, in their ferving,
And with what imitation you can borrow

From youth of fuch a feafon, 'fore noble Lucius
Present yourself, defire his service, tell him

Wherein you are happy, (which you'll make him know,
If that his head have ear in musick,) doubtless,
With joy he will embrace you; for he's honourable,
And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad
You have me, rich; and I will never fail

Beginning, nor supplyment.

Imo.

Thou art all the comfort
The gods will diet me with. Pr'ythee, away:
There's more to be confider'd; but we'll even
All that good time will give us : This attempt
I'm foldier to, and will abide it with

A prince's courage. Away, I pr'ythee.

Pis. Well, madam, we must take a short farewell; Left, being miss'd, I be suspected of

Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress,

Here

Here is a box; I had it from the queen;
What's in't is precious: if you are fick at sea,
Or ftomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this
Will drive away diftemper.-To some shade,
And fit you to your manhood :-May the gods
Direct you to the best!

Imo.

Amen: I thank thee.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

A Room in Cymbeline's Palace.

Enter CYMBELINE, Queen, CLOTEN, LUCIUS, and

Lords.

Cym. Thus far; and fo farewell.

Luc.

Thanks, royal fir.
My emperor hath wrote; I must from hence;

And am right forry, that I must report ye
My master's enemy.

Cym.

Our fubjects, fir,

Will not endure his yoke; and for ourself
To show less fovereignty than they, must needs
Appear unkinglike.

Luc.

So, fir, I defire of you

A conduct over land, to Milford-Haven.

Madam, all joy befal your grace, and 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.

Luc.

Luc.

Sir, the event

Is yet to name the winner: Fare you well.

Cym. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords, Till he have crofs'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 horfemen be in readiness :
The powers that he already hath in Gallia

Will foon 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,
Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen,
Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd
Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd
The duty of the day : She looks us like
A thing more made of malice, than of duty;
We have noted it.-Call her before us; for
We have been too flight in sufferance.

Queen.

[Exit an Attendant. Royal fir,

Since the exíle of Pofthumus, most retir'd
Hath her life been; the cure whereof, my lord,
'Tis time must do. 'Befeech your majesty,
Forbear fharp fpeeches to her: She's a lady
So tender of rebukes, that words are strokes,
And ftrokes death to her.

Cym.

Re-enter an Attendant.

Where is the, fir? How

Can her contempt be answer'd?

Please you, fir,

Atten.
Her chambers are all lock'd; and there's no answer
That will be given to the loud'ft of noise we make.
Queen. My lord, when lait I went to vifit her,
She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close;
Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity,
She should that duty leave unpaid to you,
Which daily she was bound to proffer: this

She wish'd me to make known; but our great court
Made me to blame in memory.

Cym.

Her doors lock'd?

Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that, which I fear, Prove false!

Queen.

Son, I fay, follow the king.

Clo. That man of hers, Pifanio, her old fervant, I have not seen these two days.

Queen.

[Exit.

Go, look after.

[Exit CLOTEN.

Pifanio, thou that stand'ft fo for Pofthúmus!-
He hath a drug of mine: I pray, his abfence
Proceed by fwallowing that; for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her,
Where is the gone? Haply, defpair hath seiz'd her;
Or, wing'd with fervour of her love, fhe's flown
To her defir'd Pofthúmus: Gone the 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.

How now, my fon?

Re-enter CLOTEN.

Ho

H

'Tis certain, fhe is fled

Clo.
Go in, and cheer the king; he rages; none

Dare come about him.

Queen.

All the better: May

'This night foreftall him of the coming day!

[Exit Queen.
Clo. I love, and hate her: for she's fair and royal;
And that she hath all courtly parts more exquifite
Than lady, ladies, woman;
from every one
The best she hath, and fhe, of all compounded,
Outfells them all: I love her therefore; But,
Difdaining me, and throwing favours on

The low Pofthúmus, flanders fo her judgment,
That what's elfe 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

Enter PISANIO.

Shall-Who is here? What! are you packing, firrah?
Come hither: Ah, you precious pandar! Villain,
Where is thy lady! In a word; or else

Thou art ftraightway with the fiends.
Pif.

O, good my lord!

Clo. Where is thy lady? or, by Jupiter,
I will not ask again. Clofe villain,
I'll have this fecret from thy heart, or rip
Thy heart to find it. Is the with Pofthúmus?
From whofe fo many weights of baseness cannot
A dram of worth be drawn.

Pif.

Alas, my lord,

How