OU do not meet a man but frowns. Our bloods No more obey the heavens than our courtiers; But feem as do's the king's.. 2 Gent. But what's the matter? 1 Gent. His daughter, and the heir of's kingdom (whom He purpos'd to his wife's fole fon, a widow She's wedded. Her husband banifh'd; fhe imprifon'd. All 2 Gent. None but the king? Gent. He that hath loft her too: fo is the queen, That But not a courtier, That most defir'd the match. 2 Gent. And why fo 1 Gent. He that hath mifs'd the princefs, is a thing Too bad for bad report: and he that hath her, (1 mean that marry'd her, alack good man! And therefore banish'd) is a creature fuch, As to feek through the regions of the earth For one his like, there would be fomething failing In him that fhould compare. I do not think, So fair an outward, and such stuff within Endows a man but him. 2 Gent. You speak him fair. 1 Gent. I do extend him, Sir, within himself, Crush him together, rather than unfold His meafure fully. 2 Gent. What's his name and birth? 1 Gent. I cannot delve him to the root: his father And had, befides this gentleman in question, Dy'd with their fwords in hand. For which their father, His fpring became a harveft: liv'd in court A glafs that featur'd them; and to the graver, 2 Gent. I honour him ev'n out of 1 Gent. His only child. He had two fons (if this be worth your hearing, I'th' fwathing cloaths the other, from their nurfery 2 Gent. How long is this ago? 1 Gent. Some twenty years. 2 Gent. That a king's children fhould be fo convey'd So flackly guarded, and the fearch fo flow That could not trace them! 1 Gent. Howfoe'er 'tis ftrange, Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at, 2 Gent. I do well believe. 1 Gent. We must forbear. Here comes the gentleman, The queen, and princefs.. [Exeunt. Enter the Queen, Pofthumus, Imogen, and attendants, Queen. No, be affur'd you fhall not find me, daughter, After the flander of moft ftep-mothers, I'll-ey'd unto you: you're my pris'ner, but That lock up your reftraint. For you, Pofthumus, Pof. Please your highnefs, A 4 I will I will from hence to-day. Queen. You know the peril : I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying [Exit. Poft. My queen! my mistress! O lady, weep no more, left I give caufe Re-enter Queen. Queen. Be brief, I pray you; If the king come, I fhall incur I know not How much of his displeasure-yet I'll move him To walk this way; I never do him wrong, Poft. Should we be taking leave, grow: adieu. As long a term as yet we have to live, [Afide. [Exit. But |