Document:  All > Shakespeare > Comedies > Cymbeline > Act II, scene I

	[Enter CLOTEN and two Lords]

CLOTEN: Was there ever man had such luck! when I kissed the
	jack, upon an up-cast to be hit away! I had a
	hundred pound on't: and then a whoreson jackanapes
	must take me up for swearing; as if I borrowed mine
	oaths of him and might not spend them at my pleasure.

First Lord: What got he by that? You have broke his pate with
	your bowl.

Second Lord: [Aside]  If his wit had been like him that broke it,
	it would have run all out.

CLOTEN: When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for
	any standers-by to curtail his oaths, ha?

Second Lord: No my lord;


	nor crop the ears of them.

CLOTEN: Whoreson dog! I give him satisfaction?
	Would he had been one of my rank!

Second Lord: [Aside]  To have smelt like a fool.

CLOTEN: I am not vexed more at any thing in the earth: a
	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 bellyful of
	fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock that
	nobody can match.

Second Lord: [Aside]  You are cock and capon too; and you crow,
	cock, with your comb on.

CLOTEN: Sayest thou?

Second Lord: It is not fit your lordship should undertake every
	companion that you give offence to.

CLOTEN: No, I know that: but it is fit I should commit
	offence to my inferiors.

Second Lord: Ay, it is fit for your lordship only.

CLOTEN: Why, so I say.

First Lord: Did you hear of a stranger that's come to court to-night?

CLOTEN: A stranger, and I not know on't!

Second Lord: [Aside]  He's a strange fellow himself, and knows it

First Lord: There's an Italian come; and, 'tis thought, one of
	Leonatus' friends.

CLOTEN: Leonatus! a banished rascal; and he's another,
	whatsoever he be. Who told you of this stranger?

First Lord: One of your lordship's pages.

CLOTEN: Is it fit I went to look upon him? is there no
	derogation in't?

Second Lord: You cannot derogate, my lord.

CLOTEN: Not easily, I think.

Second Lord: [Aside]  You are a fool granted; therefore your
	issues, being foolish, do not derogate.

CLOTEN: Come, I'll go see this Italian: what I have lost
	to-day at bowls I'll win to-night of him. Come, go.

Second Lord: I'll attend your lordship.

	[Exeunt CLOTEN and First 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 endurest,
	Betwixt a father by thy step-dame govern'd,
	A mother hourly coining plots, a wooer
	More hateful than the foul expulsion is
	Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act
	Of the divorce he'ld make! The heavens hold firm
	The walls of thy dear honour, keep unshaked
	That temple, thy fair mind, that thou mayst stand,
	To enjoy thy banish'd lord and this great land!



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