Lords, and other Attendants.
Cym.
Again; and bring me word, how 'tis with her.
[to an Attendant; who goes out.
A fever with the absence of her son;
Madness note, of which her life's in danger:—Heavens,
How deeply you at once do touch me! Imogen,
The great note part of my comfort, gone: my queen
Upon a desperate bed; and in a time
When fearful wars point at me: her son gone,
So needful for this present: note It strikes me, past
The hope of comfort.—But for thee, thee, fellow,
Who needs must know of her departure, and
Dost seem so ignorant, we'll enforce it from thee
By a sharp torture.
Pis.
Sir, my life is yours,
I humbly set note it at your will: But, for my mistress,
I nothing know where she remains, why gone,
-- 92 --
Nor when she purposes return. Beseech your highness,
Hold me your loyal servant.
1. L.
Good my liege,
The day that she was missing, he was here:
I dare be bound he's true, and shall perform
All parts of his subjection loyally.
For Cloten,—
There wants no diligence in seeking him;
And he'll, no note doubt, be found.
Cym.
The time is troublesome;
We'll slip you for a season; but our jealousy note
Does yet depend.
2. L.
So please your majesty,
The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn,
Are landed on your coast; with a supply note
Of Roman gentlemen, by the senate sent.
Cym.
Now for the counsel of my son, and queen!—
I am amaz'd with matter.
1. L.
Good my liege,
Your preparation can affront no less
Than what you hear of: come more, for more you're ready:
The want is, but to put those powers note in motion,
That long to move.
Cym.
I thank you: Let's withdraw;
And meet the time,14Q1292 as it seeks us. We fear not
What can from Italy annoy us; but
We grieve at chances here. Away.
[Exeunt Cymbeline, Lords, and Attendants.
Pis.
I have had no note letter from my master, since
I wrote him, Imogen was slain: 'Tis strange:
Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise
To yield me often tidings: Neither know I
-- 93 --
What is betid to Cloten; but remain
Perplext in all. The heavens still must work:
Wherein I am false, I am honest; not true, true note:
These present wars shall find I love my country,
Even to the note of the king, or I'll fall in them.
All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd:
Fortune brings in some boats, that are not steer'd.
[Ex.
Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
