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temper of your lordship; You are most hot, and furious, when you win.
Clo. Winning would put any man into courage : Jf I could get this foolish Imogen, I should have gold enough: It's almost morning, is't not?
1 Lord. Day, my lord.
Clo: I would this music would come: I am advised to give her music o’mornings; they say it will penetrate.
Enter Musicians. Come on; tune: If you can penetrate her with your fingering, so; we'll try with tongue too: if none will do, let her remain; but I'll never give o'er. First, a very excellent good-conceited thing; after, a wonderful sweet air, with admirable rich words to it,—and then let her consider.
And Phæbus 'gins arise,
On chalic'd flowers that lies;
To ope their golden eyes ;
Arise, arise. So, get you gone: If this penetrate, I will consider your music the better: if it do pot, it is a vice in her ears, which horse-hairs, and cats-guts, nor the voice of unpaved eunuch to boot, can never amend.
[Exeunt Musicians. Enter CYMBELINE and QUEEN. 2 Lord. Here comes the king.
Clo. I am glad, I was up so late, for that's the reason I was up so early: He cannot choose but take this service I have done, fatherly. Good morrow to your inajesty, and to my gracious another.
Cym. Attend you here the door of our stern daughter? Will she not forth?
Clo. I have assailed her with music, but she vouchsafes no notice.
Cym. The exile of her minion is too new;
You are most bound to the king;
es: so seem, as if
Senseless? not so.
Enter a Messenger.
A worthy fellow,
[Exeunt Cym. Queen, Lords, and Mess. Clo. If she be up, I'll speak with ber; if not, Let her lie still, and dream.-By your leave, ho!
[Knocks. I know her women are about her; What If I do line one of their hands? 'Tis gold Which buys admittance; oft it doth; yea, and makes Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up Their deer to the stand of the stealer; and 'lis gold Which makes the true man kill'd, and saves the thief;
Nay, sometime, hangs both thief and true man: What
for I yet not understand the case myself. By your leave.
[Knocks. Enter a Lady. Lady. Who's there, that knocks? Clo.
A gentleman. Lady:
No more? Clo. Yes, and a gentlewoman's son. Lady.
Clo. Your lady's person: Is she ready
Clo. There's gold for you; sell me your good report,
Lady. How!"my good name? or to report of you What I shall think is good?—The princess
Enter IMOGEN. Clo. Good morrow, fairest sister: Your sweet hand.
Imo. Good morrow, sir: You lay out too much pains For purchasing bnt trouble: the thanks I give, Is telling you that I am poor of thanks, And scarce can spare them. Clo.
Still, I swear, I love you. Imo. If you but said so, 'twere as deep with me: If you swear still, your recompense is still That I regard it not. Clo.
This is no answer. Imo. But that you shall not say I yield, being silent, I would not speak. I pray you, spare me: i'faith, I shall unfold equal discourtesy To your best kindness; one of your great knowing Should learn, being taught, forbearance.
Clo. To leave you in your madness, 'twere my sin : I will not.
Imo. Fools are not mad folks.
Do you call me fool? Imo. As I am mad, I do: If you'll be patient, I'll no more be mad; That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir, You put me to forget a lady's manners, By being so verbal: and learn now, for all, That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce, By the very truth of it, I care not for you; And am so near the lack of charity (To accuse myself), I hate you : which I had rather You felt, than make't my boast. Clo.
You sin against
The south-fog rot bim!
I am sprighted with a fool;
'Twill not be lost. Imo. I hope so: go, and search, [Exit Pisanio. Clo.
You have abus'd me:-,
Ay; I said so, sir.
Your mother too : She's my good lady; and will conceive, I hope, But the worst of me. SoʻI leave you, sir, To the worst of discontent.
I'll be reveng'd :His meanest garment?-Well.
Enter PostHUMUS and PHILARIO,
What means do you make to him?