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I would this music would come

Cloten
I would this music would come. I am advised
to give her music a-mornings; they say it will
penetrate.

And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes.
With everything that pretty is,
My lady sweet, arise,

 Enter Musicians.
Come on, tune. If you can penetrate her with your
fingering, so. We'll try with tongue, too. If none
will do, let her remain, but I'll never give o'er. First,
a very excellent good-conceited thing; after, a wonderful
sweet air, with admirable rich words to it,
and then let her consider.
 Musicians begin to play.
 Song.

Hark, hark, the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced flowers that lies;
And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes.
With everything that pretty is,
My lady sweet, arise,
Arise, arise.

Cloten
So, get you gone. If this penetrate, I will
consider your music the better. If it do not, it is a
vice in her ears which horsehairs and calves'
guts, nor the voice of unpaved eunuch to boot, can
never amend.
 Musicians exit.
 Enter Cymbeline and Queen, with Attendants.

Second Lord
Here comes the King.
Cloten
I am glad I was up so late, for that’s the reason
I was up so early. He cannot choose but take this
service I have done fatherly.—Good morrow to
your Majesty and to my gracious mother.
Cymbeline
Attend you here the door of our stern daughter?
Will she not forth?
Cloten
I have assailed her with musics, but she

vouchsafes no notice.
Cymbeline
The exile of her minion is too new;
She hath not yet forgot him. Some more time
Must wear the print of his remembrance on ’t,
And then she’s yours.
Queen, to Cloten
You are most bound to th’ King,
Who lets go by no vantages that may
Prefer you to his daughter. Frame yourself
To orderly solicits and be friended
With aptness of the season. Make denials
Increase your services. So seem as if
You were inspired to do those duties which
You tender to her; that you in all obey her,
Save when command to your dismission tends,
And therein you are senseless.
Cloten
Senseless? Not so.

Source:
Act 2
Scene 3
Line 11

Source Type:
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Spoken by:
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Themes:
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