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Cymbeline

A Tragedy
  
  
  

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 1. 
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SCENE II.
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SCENE II.

A Palace.
Enter Cloten, and two Lords.
Clot.

Was there ever Man had such luck! when I
kiss'd the Jack upon an Up-cast, to be hit away! I had
an hundred Pound on't; and then a whorson Jack-an-Apes
must take up for Swearing, as if I had borrow'd
mine Oaths of him, and might not spend them at my
Pleasure.


1 Lord.

What got he by that? you have broke his
Pate with your Bowl.


2 Lord.

If his Wit had been like him that broke it; it
would have run all out.


[Aside.
Clot.

When a Gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not
for any Standers by to curtail his Oaths. Ha?


2 Lord.

No, my Lord: Nor crop the Ears of them.


Clot.

Whoreson Dog! I give him Satisfaction? Would
he had been one of my Rank. Pox on't. I had rather not
be so Noble as I am; they dare not fight with me, because
of the Queen my Mother; every Jack-slave hath
his belly full of Fighting, and I must go up and down
like a Cock, that no body can match.


2 Lord.

It is not fit your Lordship should undertake
every Companion, that you give Offence to.


Clot.

No: I know that: But it is fit I should commit
Offence to my Inferiors.


2 Lord.

Ay, it is fit for your Lordship only.


Cot.

Why, so I say.


2 Lord.

Here comes the King.



26

Enter Cymbeline and Queen.
Clot.

Good-night to your Majesty, and gracious Mother.


Cymb.

Attend you here the Door of our stern Daughter?
Will she not forth?


Clot.

She vouchsafes no Notice; but I will assail
her before Morning with Mask and Music.


Cym.
The Exile of her Minion is too new,
She hath not yet forgot him; some more time
Must wear the print of his Remembrance out,
And then she's yours.

Enter Messenger, and whispers the first Lord.
Queen.
You are most bound to the King,
Who lets go by no 'Vantages, that may
Prefer you to his Daughter.

1 Lord.
So like you, Sir, Ambassadors from Rome,
The one is Caius Lucius.

Cymb.
A worthy Fellow,
Albeit, he comes on angry Purpose now;
But that's no Fault of his; our dear Son,
When you have given good Morning to your Mistress,
Attend the Queen and us, we shall have need
T'employ you towards this Roman.
Betimes To-morrow we'll hear th'Embassy.
Come our Queen.

[Exeunt King and Queen.
1 Lord.

Did you hear of another Stranger that's
come to Court To-night?


Clot.

Another Stranger, and I not know on't?


2 Lord.

He's a strange Fellow himself, and knows
it not.


[Aside.
1 Lord.

There's an Italian come, and 'tis thought
one of Leonatus' Friends.


Clot.

Leonatus! A banish'd Rascal; and he's another,
wheresoever he be. Who told you of this Stranger?


1 Lord.

One of your Lordship's Pages.


Clot.

Is it fit I went to look upon him? Is there no
Derogation in't?


2 Lord.

You cannot derogate, my Lord.


Clot.

Not easily, I think.


2 Lord.

You are a Fool granted, therefore cannot
derogate.


[Aside.

27

Clot.
Come I'll go see this Italian, and if he'll play,
I'll game with him, and to-morrow with our
Father, we'll hear th'Ambassador—come let's go.

1 Lord.
I'll attend your Lordship.

[Exit Clot. and 1 Lord.
2 Lord.
That such a crafty Devil as is his Mother,
Should yield the World this Ass; a Woman that
Bears all down with her Brain, and this her Son,
Cannot take two from Twenty for his Heart
And leave Eighteen. Alas, poor Princess,
Thou divine Imogen, what thou endur'st.

[Exit.