CYMBELINE
Page: 5

What, art thou mad?

IMOGEN.
Almost, sir; heaven restore me! Would I were
A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus
Our neighbour shepherd's son!

[Re-enter QUEEN.]

CYMBELINE. Thou foolish thing!
--They were again together; you have done
Not after our command. Away with her,
And pen her up.

QUEEN.
Beseech your patience. Peace,
Dear lady daughter, peace! Sweet sovereign,
Leave us to ourselves, and make yourself some comfort
Out of your best advice.

CYMBELINE.
Nay, let her languish
A drop of blood a day; and, being aged,
Die of this folly!

[Exeunt CYMBELINE and LORDS.]

[Enter PISANIO.]

QUEEN.
Fie! you must give way.
Here is your servant. How now, sir! What news?

PISANIO.
My lord your son drew on my master.

QUEEN.
Ha! No harm, I trust, is done?

PISANIO.
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.

IMOGEN.
Your son's my father's friend; he takes his part
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
The goer-back. Why came you from your master?

PISANIO.
On his command. He would not suffer me
To bring him to the haven; left these notes
Of what commands I should be subject to,
When't pleas'd you to employ me.

QUEEN.
This hath been
Your faithful servant. I dare lay mine honour
He will remain so.

PISANIO.
I humbly thank your Highness.

QUEEN.
Pray, walk a while.

IMOGEN.
About some half-hour hence,
I Pray you, speak with me; you shall at least
Go see my lord aboard. For this time leave me.

[Exeunt.]



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 vent.

CLOTEN.
If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Have I hurt him?

SECOND LORD.

[Aside.]

No, faith; not so much as his patience.