[Exeunt severally.]
SCENE V. Britain. Cymbeline’s palace.
Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, Lucius and Lords.
CYMBELINE.
Thus far, and so farewell.
LUCIUS.
Thanks, royal sir.
My emperor hath wrote; I must from hence,
And am right sorry that I must report ye
My master’s enemy.
CYMBELINE.
Our subjects, sir,
Will not endure his yoke; and for ourself
To show less sovereignty than they, must needs
Appear unkinglike.
LUCIUS.
So, sir. I desire of you
A conduct overland to Milford Haven.
Madam, all joy befall your Grace, and you!
CYMBELINE.
My lords, you are appointed for that office;
The due of honour in no point omit.
So farewell, noble Lucius.
LUCIUS.
Your hand, my lord.
CLOTEN.
Receive it friendly; but from this time forth
I wear it as your enemy.