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Cym. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords,

'Till he have crost the Severn.

-Happiness!

[Exit LUCIUS, &c.

Queen. He goes hence frowning: but it honours us,

That we have given him cause.

Clot. 'Tis all the better;

Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.

580

Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the emperor How it goes here. It fits us therefore, ripely, Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness: The powers that he already hath in Gallia Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves His war for Britain.

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Queen. 'Tis not sleepy business;
But must be look'd to speedily, and strongly.

Cym. Our expectation that it should 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 light in sufferance.

Queen. Royal sir,

540

[Exit a Servant.

Since the exile of Posthumus, most retir'd
Hath her life been; the cure whereof, my lord, --
"Tis time must do. 'Beseech your majesty,
Forbear sharp speeches to her: She's a lady
Giij

550

So

So tender of rebukes, that words are strokes,

And strokes death to her.

Re-enter the Servant.

Cym. Where is she, sir? How Can her contempt be answer'd?

Seru. Please you, sir,

Her chambers are all lock'd; and there's no answer
That will be given to the loud of noise we make. 560
Queen. My lord, when last I went to visit 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 say, follow the king.

[Exit.

571

Clot. That man of her's, Pisanio her old servant,

I have not seen these two days.

Queen. Go, look after.

[Exit.,

Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus!-
He hath a drug of mine: I pray, his absence
Proceed by swallowing that; for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her,
Where is she gone? Haply, despair hath seiz'd her
Or, wing'd with fervour of her love, she's flown 580
To her desir'd Posthumus: Gone she is

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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.

Re-enter CLOTEN.

How now, my son ?

Clot. 'Tis certain, she is filed:

Go in, and cheer the king; he rages, none
Dare come about him.

Queen. All the better: May

This night forestall him of the coming day!

590

[Exit Queen.

Clot. I love, and hate her: for she's fair and

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And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite

Than lady, ladies, woman; from every one
The best she hath, and she, of all compounded,
Outsells them all: I love her therefore; But
Disdaining me, and throwing favours on

The low Posthumus, slanders so her judgment,
That what's else 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

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Enter PISANIO.

600

Shall-Who is here? What are you packing, sirrah?

Come hither: Ah, you precious pandar! Villain,

Where is thy lady? In a word; or else

Thou art straightway with the fiends.

Pis. O, good my lord!

Clot. Where is thy lady? or, by Jupiter, I will not ask again. Close villain,

I'll have this secret from thy heart, or rip
Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus?
From whose so many weights of baseness cannot
A dram of worth be drawn.

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611

How can she be with him? When was she miss'd? He is in Rome.

Clot. Where is she, sir? Come nearer;

No further halting: satisfy me home,
What is become of her?

Pis. O, my all-worthy lord!

Clot. All-worthy villain!

Discover where thy mistress is, at once,

620

At the next word-No more of worthy lord

Speak, or thy silence on the instant is

Thy condemnation and thy death.

Pis. Then, sir,

This paper is the history of my knowledge
Touching her flight.

Clot. Let's see't:-I will pursue her

Even to Augustus' throne.

Pis. Or this, or perish.

She's far enough; and what he learns by this, [Aside. May prove his travel, not her danger.

Chot. Humh!

632

Pis. I'll write to my lord, she's dead. O, Imogen,.

[Aside.

Safe

Safe may'st thou wander, safe return again !
Clot. Sirrah, is this letter true?

Pis. Sir, as I think.

Clot. It is Posthumus' hand; I know't.-Sirrah, if thou wouldst not be a villain, but do me true service; undergo those employments, wherein I should have cause to use thee, with a serious industry—that is, what villany soe'er I bid thee do, to perform it, directly and truly-I would think thee an honest man : thou should'st neither want my means for thy relief, nor my voice for thy preferment. 644

Pis. Well, my good lord.

Clot. Wilt thou serve me? For since patiently and constantly thou hast stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar Posthumus, thou can'st not in the course of gratitude but be a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou serve me?

Pis. Sir, I will.

Clot. Give me thy hand, here's my purse. Hast any of thy late master's garments in thy possession ? Pis. I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit he wore when he took leave of my lady and mistress.

Clot. The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit hither: let it be thy first service; go.

Pis. I shall, my lord.

658 [Exit.

Clot. Meet thee at Milford-Haven :- -I forgot to ask him one thing; I'll remember't anon :- -Even there, thou villain Posthumus, will I kill thee.-I Would, these garments were come. She said upon a

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