4.3.22738Cymbeline [To Messenger]

Again, and bring me word how 'tis with her.

4.3.42739A fever with the absence of her son,

4.3.52740A madness of which her life's in danger. Heavens,

4.3.62741How deeply you at once do touch me! Imogen,

4.3.72742The great part of my comfort, gone; my Queen

4.3.82743Upon a desperate bed, and in a time

4.3.92744When fearful wars point at me; her son gone,

4.3.102745So needful for this present. It strikes me past

4.3.112746The hope of comfort. But, for thee, fellow,

4.3.122747Who needs must know of her departure and

4.3.132748Dost seem so ignorant, we'll enforce it from thee

4.3.142749By a sharp torture.

By a sharp torture. Sir, my life is yours;

4.3.152751I humbly set it at your will. But for my mistress,

4.3.162752I nothing know where she remains, why gone,

4.3.172753Nor when she purposes return. Beseech Your Highness,

4.3.182754Hold me your loyal servant.

Hold me your loyal servant. Good my liege,

4.3.192756The day that she was missing, he was here;

4.3.202757I dare be bound he's true and shall perform

4.3.212758All parts of his subjection loyally. For Clotten,

4.3.222759There wants no diligence in seeking him,

4.3.232760And will no doubt be found.

And will no doubt be found. The time is troublesome:

4.3.242762We'll slip you for a season, but our jealousy

4.3.252763Does yet depend.

Does yet depend. So please Your Majesty,

4.3.262765The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn,

4.3.272766Are landed on your coast with a supply

4.3.282767Of Roman gentlemen by the senate sent.

Now for the counsel of my son and Queen:

4.3.302769I am amazed with matter.

I am amazed with matter. Good my liege,

4.3.312771Your preparation can affront no less

4.3.322772Than what you hear of; come, more, for more you're ready:

4.3.332773The want is but to put those powers in motion

4.3.342774That long to move.

That long to move. I thank you. Let's withdraw

4.3.352776And meet the time as it seeks us. We fear not

4.3.362777What can from Italy annoy us, but

4.3.372778We grieve at chances here. Away.

I heard no letter from my master since

4.3.402780I wrote him Imogen was slain; 'tis strange;

4.3.412781Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise

4.3.422782To yield me often tidings. Neither know I

4.3.432783What is betid to Clotten but remain

4.3.442784Perplexed in all. The heavens still must work:

4.3.452785Wherein I am false, I am honest; not true, to be true.

4.3.462786These present wars shall find I love my country

4.3.472787Even to the note o'th' King, or I'll fall in them.

4.3.482788All other doubts, by time let them be cleared;

4.3.492789Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.