Britain. Before
Cymbeline’s palace.
CLOTEN 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. 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!
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.
Come, I’ll go see this Italian: 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.