Another room in the castle.
He says he will return incontinent: He hath commanded me to go to bed, And bade me to dismiss you.
It was his bidding: therefore, good Emilia, Give me my nightly wearing, and adieu: We must not now displease him.
So would not I my love doth so approve him, That even his stubbornness, his cheques, his frowns— Prithee, unpin me—have grace and favour in them.
All’s one. Good faith, how foolish are our minds! If I do die before thee prithee, shroud me In one of those same sheets.