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A strain of rareness: and I grieve myself,
Pis. O gracious lady I
Imo. Do’t, and to bed then.
Pis. I'll wake mine eye-balls blind first.
Imo. Wherefore then
Pis. But to win time
Ino, Talk thy tongue weary; speak: 41 O
A'is. Then, madam,
I thought you would not back again.
In a great pool, a swan's nest: Pr'ythee, think
Pis. I am most glad
Imo. O, for such means ! Though peril to my modesty, not death on't, 460 I would adventure.
Pis. Well, then here's the point: You must forget to be a woman; change Command into obedience; fear, and niceness (The handmaids of all women, or, more truly, Woman its pretty self), into a waggish courage; Ready in gybes, quick-answer'd, saucy, and As quarrellous as the weazel : may, you must Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek, Exposing it (but, O, the harder heart 1 47o Alack, no remedy) to the greedy touch Of common-kissing Titan; and forget Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein You made great Juno angry. • *
Imo. Nay, be brief: I see into thy end, and am almost A man already. Pis. First, make yourself but like one. Fore-thinking this, I have already fit ('Tis in my cloke-bag), doublet, hat, hose, all 48o That answer to them : Would you in their serving, And with what imitation you can borrow From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucius Present yourself, desire his service, tell him Wherein you are happy (which you'll make him know, o 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 supply ment. 495 Imo. Thou art all the comfort The gods will diet me with. Pr'ythee, away : There's more to be consider'd ; but we’ll even All that good time will give us : This attempt I am soldier to, and will abide it with A prince's courage. Away, I pr’ythee. Pis. Well, madam, we must take a short farewel : 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; 5oo 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, r G i j And And fit you to your manhood:—May the gods
Direct you to the best! -
The Palace of CYMBE LINE. Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Clot EN, Lucius, and Lords.
Cym. Thus far; and so farewel.
Iuc. Thanks, royal sir.
Cym. Our subjects, sir,
Luc. So, sir, I desire of you
Cym. My lords, you are appointed for that office; The due of honour in no point omit :- 52O So, farewel, noble Lucius.
Luc. Your hand, my lord.
Clot. Receive it friendly : but from this time forth I wear it as your enemy.
Luc. Sir, the event