| ACT I SCENE III | A room in Cymbeline's palace. | |
| | Enter IMOGEN and PISANIO. | |
| IMOGEN | I would thou grew'st unto the shores o' the haven, | |
| | And question'dst every sail: if he should write | |
| | And not have it, 'twere a paper lost, | |
| | As offer'd mercy is. What was the last | 5 |
| | That he spake to thee? | |
| PISANIO | It was his queen, his queen! | |
| IMOGEN | Then waved his handkerchief? | |
| PISANIO | And kiss'd it, madam. | |
| IMOGEN | Senseless Linen! happier therein than I! | 10 |
| | And that was all? | |
| PISANIO | No, madam; for so long | |
| | As he could make me with this eye or ear | |
| | Distinguish him from others, he did keep | |
| | The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief, | 15 |
| | Still waving, as the fits and stirs of 's mind | |
| | Could best express how slow his soul sail'd on, | |
| | How swift his ship. | |
| IMOGEN | Thou shouldst have made him | |
| | As little as a crow, or less, ere left | 20 |
| | To after-eye him. | |
| PISANIO | Madam, so I did. | |
| IMOGEN | I would have broke mine eye-strings; crack'd them, but | |
| | To look upon him, till the diminution | |
| | Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle, | 25 |
| | Nay, follow'd him, till he had melted from | |
| | The smallness of a gnat to air, and then | |
| | Have turn'd mine eye and wept. But, good Pisanio, | |
| | When shall we hear from him? | |
| PISANIO | Be assured, madam, | 30 |
| | With his next vantage. | |
| IMOGEN | I did not take my leave of him, but had | |
| | Most pretty things to say: ere I could tell him | |
| | How I would think on him at certain hours | |
| | Such thoughts and such, or I could make him swear | 35 |
| | The shes of Italy should not betray | |
| | Mine interest and his honour, or have charged him, | |
| | At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight, | |
| | To encounter me with orisons, for then | |
| | I am in heaven for him; or ere I could | 40 |
| | Give him that parting kiss which I had set | |
| | Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father | |
| | And like the tyrannous breathing of the north | |
| | Shakes all our buds from growing. | |
| | Enter a Lady | |
| Lady | The queen, madam, | 45 |
| | Desires your highness' company. | |
| IMOGEN | Those things I bid you do, get them dispatch'd. | |
| | I will attend the queen. | |
| PISANIO | Madam, I shall. | |
| | Exeunt | |
