IACHIMO.
Yes, I beseech; or I shall short my word
By length’ning my return. From Gallia
I cross’d the seas on purpose and on promise
To see your Grace.
IMOGEN.
I thank you for your pains.
But not away tomorrow!
IACHIMO.
O, I must, madam.
Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please
To greet your lord with writing, do’t tonight.
I have outstood my time, which is material
To th’ tender of our present.
IMOGEN.
I will write.
Send your trunk to me; it shall safe be kept
And truly yielded you. You’re very welcome.
[Exeunt.]
ACT II
SCENE I. Britain. Before Cymbeline’s palace.
Enter Cloten and the two Lords.
CLOTEN.
Was there ever man had such luck! When I kiss’d the jack, upon an upcast 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.