Cymbeline Act III, Scene ii Imogen
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48 O for a horse with wings! Hear’st thou, Pisanio?
49 He is at Milford-Haven. Read, and tell me
50 How far ’tis thither. If one of mean affairs
51 May plod it in a week, why may not I
52 Glide thither in a day? Then, true Pisanio,
53 Who long’st like me to see thy lord; who long’st
54 (O let me bate!)—but not like me—yet long’st,
55 But in a fainter kind—O, not like me,
56 For mine’s beyond beyond—say, and speak thick
57 (Love’s counsellor should fill the bores of hearing,
58 To th’ smothering of the sense), how far it is
59 To this same blessed Milford. And by th’ way
60 Tell me how Wales was made so happy as
61 T’ inherit such a haven. But first of all,
62 How we may steal from hence; and for the gap
63 That we shall make in time, from our hence-going
64 And our return, to excuse. But first, how get hence.
65 Why should excuse be born or ere begot?
66 We’ll talk of that hereafter. Prithee speak,
67 How many score of miles may we well rid
68 ’Twixt hour and hour?