The Same. Another Room in the Palace. |
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Enter IMOGEN. |
Imo. A father cruel, and a step-dame false; |
A foolish suitor to a wedded lady, |
That hath her husband banish'd: O! that husband, |
My supreme crown of grief! and those repeated |
Vexations of it! Had I been thief-stol'n, |
As my two brothers, happy! but most miserable |
Is the desire that's glorious: bless'd be those, |
How mean so'er, that have their honest wills, |
Which seasons comfort. Who may this be? Fie! |
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Enter PISANIO and IACHIMO. |
Pis. Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome, |
Comes from my lord with letters. |
Iach. Change you, madam? |
The worthy Leonatus is in safety, |
And greets your highness dearly. [Presents a letter. |
Imo. Thanks, good sir: |
You are kindly welcome. |
Iach. [Aside.] All of her that is out of door most rich! |
If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare, |
She is alone the Arabian bird, and I |
Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend! |
Arm me, audacity, from head to foot! |
Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight; |
Rather, directly fly. |
Imo. He is one of the noblest note, to whose kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Reflect upon him accordingly, as you value your truest [LEONATOS. |
So far I read aloud; |
But even the very middle of my heart |
Is warm'd by the rest, and takes it thankfully. |
You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I |
Have words to bid you; and shall find it so |
In all that I can do. |
Iach. Thanks, fairest lady. |
What! are men mad? Hath nature given them eyes |
To see this vaulted arch, and the rich crop |
Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt |
The fiery orbs above and the twinn'd stones |
Upon the number'd beach? and can we not |
Partition make with spectacles so precious |
'Twixt fair and foul? |
Imo. What makes your admiration? |
Iach. It cannot be i' the eye; for apes and monkeys |
'Twixt two such shes would chatter this way and |
Contemn with mows the other; nor i' the judgment, |
For idiots in this case of favour would |
Be wisely definite; nor i' the appetite; |
Sluttery to such neat excellence oppos'd |
Should make desire vomit emptiness, |
Not so allur'd to feed. |
Imo. What is the matter, trow? |
Iach. The cloyed will,— |
That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, that tub |
Both fill'd and running,—ravening first the lamb, |
Longs after for the garbage. |
Imo. What, dear sir, |
Thus raps you? are you well? |
Iach. Thanks, madam, well. |
[To PISANIO.] Beseech you, sir, |
Desire my man's abode where I did leave him; |
He's strange and peevish. |
Pis. I was going, sir, |
To give him welcome. [Exit. |
Imo. Continues well my lord his health, beseech you? |
Iach. Well, madam. |
Imo. Is he dispos'd to mirth? I hope he is. |
Iach. Exceeding pleasant; none a stranger there |
So merry and so gamesome: he is call'd |
The Briton reveller. |
Imo. When he was here |
He did incline to sadness, and oft-times |
Not knowing why. |
Iach. I never saw him sad. |
There is a Frenchman his companion, one, |
An eminent monsieur, that, it seems, much loves |
A Gallian girl at home; he furnaces |
The thick sighs from him, whiles the jolly Briton— |
Your lord, I mean—laughs from 's free lungs, cries, 'O! |
Can my sides hold, to think that man, who knows |
By history, report, or his own proof, |
What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose |
But must be, will his free hours languish for |
Assured bondage?' |
Imo. Will my lord say so? |
Iach. Ay, madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter: |
It is a recreation to be by |
And hear him mock the Frenchman; but, heavens know, |
Some men are much to blame. |
Imo. Not he, I hope. |
Iach. Not he; but yet heaven's bounty towards him might |
Be us'd more thankfully. In himself, 'tis much; |
In you,—which I account his beyond all talents,— |
Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound |
To pity too. |
Imo. What do you pity, sir? |
Iach. Two creatures, heartily. |
Imo. Am I one, sir? |
You look on me: what wrack discern you in me |
Deserves your pity? |
Iach. Lamentable! What! |
To hide me from the radiant sun and solace |
I' the dungeon by a snuff! |
Imo. I pray you, sir, |
Deliver with more openness your answers |
To my demands. Why do you pity me? |
Iach. That others do, |
I was about to say, enjoy your—But |
It is an office of the gods to venge it, |
Not mine to speak on 't. |
Imo. You do seem to know |
Something of me, or what concerns me; pray you,— |
Since doubting things go ill often hurts more |
Than to be sure they do; for certainties |
Either are past remedies, or, timely knowing, |
The remedy then born,—discover to me |
What both you spur and stop. |
Iach. Had I this cheek |
To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whose touch, |
Whose every touch, would force the feeler's soul |
To the oath of loyalty; this object, which |
Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye, |
Firing it only here; should I—damn'd then— |
Slaver with lips as common as the stairs |
That mount the Capitol; join gripes with hands |
Made hard with hourly falsehood,—falsehood, as |
With labour;—then by-peeping in an eye, |
Base and illustrous as the smoky light |
That's fed with stinking tallow; it were fit |
That all the plagues of hell should at one time |
Encounter such revolt. |
Imo. My lord, I fear, |
Has forgot Britain. |
Iach. And himself. Not I, |
Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce |
The beggary of his change; but 'tis your graces |
That from my mutest conscience to my tongue |
Charms this report out. |
Imo. Let me hear no more. |
Iach. O dearest soul! your cause doth strike my heart |
With pity, that doth make me sick. A lady |
So fair,—and fasten'd to an empery |
Would make the great'st king double,—to be partner'd |
With tom-boys hir'd with that self-exhibition |
Which your own coffers yield! with diseas'd ventures |
That play with all infirmities for gold |
Which rottenness can lend nature! such boil'd stuff |
As well might poison poison! Be reveng'd; |
Or she that bore you was no queen, and you |
Recoil from your great stock. |
Imo. Reveng'd! |
How should I be reveng'd? If this be true,— |
As I have such a heart, that both mine ears |
Must not in haste abuse,—if it be true, |
How should I be reveng'd? |
Iach. Should he make me |
Live like Diana's priest, betwixt cold sheets, |
Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps, |
In your despite, upon your purse? Revenge it. |
I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure, |
More noble than that runagate to your bed, |
And will continue fast to your affection, |
Still close as sure. |
Imo. What ho, Pisanio! |
Iach. Let me my service tender on your lips. |
Imo. Away! I do condemn mine ears that have |
So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable, |
Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not |
For such an end thou seek'st; as base as strange. |
Thou wrong'st a gentleman, who is as far |
From thy report as thou from honour, and |
Solicit'st here a lady that disdains |
Thee and the devil alike. What ho, Pisanio! |
The king my father shall be made acquainted |
Of thy assault; if he shall think it fit, |
A saucy stranger in his court to mart |
As in a Romish stew and to expound |
His beastly mind to us, he hath a court |
He little cares for and a daughter who |
He not respects at all. What ho, Pisanio! |
Iach. O happy Leonatus! I may say: |
The credit that thy lady hath of thee |
Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect goodness |
Her assur'd credit. Blessed live you long! |
A lady to the worthiest sir that ever |
Country call'd his; and you his mistress, only |
For the most worthiest fit. Give me your pardon. |
I have spoken this, to know if your affiance |
Were deeply rooted, and shall make your lord |
That which he is, new o'er; and he is one |
The truest manner'd; such a holy witch |
That he enchants societies into him; |
Half all men's hearts are his. |
Imo. You make amends. |
Iach. He sits 'mongst men like a descended god: |
He hath a kind of honour sets him off, |
More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry, |
Most mighty princess, that I have adventur'd |
To try your taking of a false report; which hath |
Honour'd with confirmation your great judgment |
In the election of a sir so rare, |
Which you know cannot err. The love I bear him |
Made me to fan you thus; but the gods made you, |
Unlike all others, chaffless. Pray, your pardon. |
Imo. All's well, sir. Take my power i' the court for yours. |
Iach. My humble thanks. I had almost forgot |
To entreat your Grace but in a small request, |
And yet of moment too, for it concerns |
Your lord, myself, and other noble friends, |
Are partners in the business. |
Imo. Pray, what is 't? |
Iach. Some dozen Romans of us and your lord, |
The best feather of our wing, have mingled sums |
To buy a present for the emperor; |
Which I, the factor for the rest, have done |
In France; 'tis plate of rare device, and jewels |
Of rich and exquisite form; their values great; |
And I am something curious, being strange, |
To have them in safe stowage. May it please you |
To take them in protection? |
Imo. Willingly; |
And pawn mine honour for their safety: since |
My lord hath interest in them, I will keep them |
In my bedchamber. |
Iach. They are in a trunk, |
Attended by my men; I will make bold |
To send them to you, only for this night; |
I must aboard to-morrow. |
Imo. O! no, no. |
Iach. Yes, I beseech, or I shall short my word |
By lengthening my return. From Gallia |
I cross'd the seas on purpose and on promise |
To see your Grace. |
Imo. I thank you for your pains; |
But not away to-morrow! |
Iach. O! I must, madam: |
Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please |
To greet your lord with writing, do 't to-night: |
I have outstood my time, which is material |
To the tender of our present. |
Imo. I will write. |
Send your trunk to me; it shall safe be kept, |
And truly yielded you. You're very welcome. [Exeunt. |
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