CLOTEN. His majesty bids you welcome. Make pastime with us a day or two, or longer. If you seek us afterwards in other terms, you shall find us in our salt-water girdle. If you beat us out of it, it is yours; if you fall in the adventure, our crows shall fare the better for you; and there’s an end. LUCIUS. So, sir. CYMBELINE. I know your master’s pleasure, and he mine; All the remain is, welcome. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. Britain. Another room in Cymbeline’s palace. Enter Pisanio reading of a letter. PISANIO. How? of adultery? Wherefore write you not What monsters her accuse? Leonatus! O master, what a strange infection Is fall’n into thy ear! What false Italian (As poisonous-tongu’d as handed) hath prevail’d On thy too ready hearing? Disloyal? No. She’s punish’d for her truth, and undergoes, More goddess-like than wife-like, such assaults As would take in some virtue. O my master, Thy mind to her is now as low as were Thy fortunes. How? that I should murder her? Upon the love, and truth, and vows, which I Have made to thy command? I, her? Her blood? If it be so to do good service, never Let me be counted serviceable. How look I That I should seem to lack humanity So much as this fact comes to? [_Reads._] ‘Do’t. The letter That I have sent her, by her own command Shall give thee opportunity.’ O damn’d paper, Black as the ink that’s on thee! Senseless bauble, Art thou a fedary for this act, and look’st So virgin-like without? Lo, here she comes. Enter Imogen. I am ignorant in what I am commanded. IMOGEN. How now, Pisanio? PISANIO. Madam, here is a letter from my lord. IMOGEN. Who? thy lord? That is my lord, Leonatus? O, learn’d indeed were that astronomer That knew the stars as I his characters; He’d lay the future open. You good gods, Let what is here contain’d relish of love, Of my lord’s health, of his content; yet not That we two are asunder; let that grieve him! Some griefs are med’cinable; that is one of them, For it doth physic love: of his content, All but in that. Good wax, thy leave. Blest be You bees that make these locks of counsel! Lovers And men in dangerous bonds pray not alike; Though forfeiters you cast in prison, yet You clasp young Cupid’s tables. Good news, gods! [_Reads._] _Justice and your father’s wrath, should he take me in his dominion, could not be so cruel to me as you, O the dearest of creatures, would even renew me with your eyes. Take notice that I am in Cambria, at Milford Haven. What your own love will out of this advise you, follow. So he wishes you all happiness that remains loyal to his vow, and your increasing in love. LEONATUS POSTHUMUS._