Was there ever man had such luck?

Cloten
Was there ever man had such luck? When I
kissed the jack, upon an upcast to be hit away? I
had a hundred pound on ’t. And then a whoreson
jackanapes must take me up for swearing, as if I
borrowed mine oaths of him and might not spend
them at my pleasure.

That such a crafty devil as is his mother
Should yield the world this ass!

First Lord
What got he by that? You have broke his
pate with your bowl.
Second Lord, aside
If his wit had been like him that
broke it, it would have run all out.
Cloten
When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is
not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths, ha?
Second Lord
No, my lord, (aside) nor crop the ears of them.
Cloten
Whoreson dog! I gave him satisfaction. Would
he had been one of my rank.
Second Lord, aside
To have smelled like a fool.
Cloten
I am not vexed more at anything in th’ Earth.
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.
Second Lord, aside
You are cock and capon too, and
you crow cock with your comb on.
Cloten
Sayest thou?
Second Lord
It is not fit your Lordship should undertake
every companion that you give offense to.
Cloten
No, I know that, but it is fit I should commit
offense 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 tonight?
Cloten
A stranger, and I not know on ’t?
Second Lord, aside
He’s a strange fellow himself and
knows it not.
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.
Second Lord, aside
You are a fool granted; therefore
your issues, being foolish, do not derogate.
Cloten
Come, I’ll go see this Italian. What I have lost
today at bowls I’ll win tonight of him. Come, go.
Second Lord
I’ll attend your Lordship.
 Cloten and First Lord exit.
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. Alas, poor princess,
Thou divine Imogen, what thou endur’st,
Betwixt a father by thy stepdame governed,
A mother hourly coining plots, a wooer
More hateful than the foul expulsion is
Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act
Of the divorce he’d make! The heavens hold firm
The walls of thy dear honor, keep unshaked
That temple, thy fair mind, that thou mayst stand
T’ enjoy thy banished lord and this great land.
 He exits.