Bafe and unluftrious as the fmoaky light
That's fed with ftinking tallow? it were fit
That all the plagues of hell should at one time
Encounter fuch revolt.

Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce

The beggary of his change; but tis your graces
That from my muteft confcience, to my tongue,
Charms this report out.

Imo. Let me hear no more.

Jach. O dearest foul! your caufe doth ftrike my heart
With pity, that doth make me fick. A Lady
So fair, and faftned to an empery

Would make the great'ft King double, to be partner'd
With tomboys, hir'd with that self-exhibition

Which your own coffers yield! with diseas'd ventures
That play with all infirmities for gold,

Which rottennefs lends nature! fuch boyl'd stuff
As well might poifon poifon! Be reveng'd,
Or fhe that bore you was no Queen, and you
Recoil from your great stock.

Imo. Reveng'd! alas!

How should I be reveng'd, if this be true?
As I have fuch a heart, that both mine ears
Muft not in hafte abuse; if it be true,
How fhall I be reveng'd?

Iach. Should he make me

Live like Diana's prieftefs, 'twixt cold sheets?
Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps

In your defpight, upon your purse ? revenge it!
I dedicate my felf to your sweet pleasure,
More noble than that runagate to your bed,
And will continue faft to your affection,
Still close as fure.

Imo. What ho, Pifanio!

Iacb. Let me my service tender on your lips.
Ime. Away, I do condemn mine ears, that have
So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable,

Thou

Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not
For fuch an end thou feek'ft, as base as ftrange:
Thou wrong'ft a gentleman, who is as far
From thy report, as thou from honour; and
Sollicit'ft here a Lady, that difdains

Thee, and the devil alike. What ho, Pifanio !
The King my father fhall be made acquainted
Of thy affault; if he fhall think it fit,
A fawcy ftranger in his Court to mart
As in a Romish ftew, and to expound
His beaftly mind to us, he hath a Court
He little cares for, and a daughter whom
He not respects at all. What ho, Pifanio!-
Iach. O happy Leonatus, I may fay,
The credit that thy Lady hath, of thee
Deferves thy truft; and thy most perfect goodness
Her affur'd credit: bleffed live you long,
A Lady to the worthieft Sir, that ever
Country call'd his; and you his mistress, only
For the moft worthy fit! Give me your pardon.
I have spoke 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 trueft-manner'd, fuch a holy witch,
That he inchants focieties unto him:

Half all mens hearts are his.

Imo. You make amends.

Iach. He fits 'mongst men like a defcended God;
He hath a kind of honour fets him off,

More than a mortal feeming. Be not angry,
Moft mighty Princess, that I have adventur'd
To try you with 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, chafflefs. Pray, your pardon.
Imo. All's well, Sir; take my pow'ri' th' Court for yours.
Iach. My humble thanks; I had almoft forgot

Tintreat your grace but in a small request,

And

And yet a moment too, for it concerns
Your Lord; my self, and other noble friends
Are partners in the business.

Imo. Pray what is't?

Iach. Some dozen Romans of us, and your Lord, (Beft feather of our wing,) have mingled fums To buy a prefent for the Emperor:

1

Which I, the factor for the reft, have done
In France; 'tis plate of rare device, and jewels
Of rich and exquifite form, their values great;,
And I am fomething curious, being strange,
To have them in fafe ftowage: may it please you
To take them in protection?

Imo. Willingly;

And pawn mine honour for their safety. Since
My Lord hath int'reft in them, I will keep them
In my bed-chamber.

Iach. They are in a trunk

Attended by my men: I will make bold

To fend them to you, only for this night;

I must aboard to-morrow.

Imo. O no, no.

Iach. Yes, I beseech you: or I fhall fhort my word

By length'ning my return.

From Gallia

I croft the feas on purpose, and on promife

To fee your Grace.

Imo. I thank you for your pains;

But not away to-morrow?

lach. I muft, Madam.

Therefore I fhall befeech you, if you please
To greet your Lord with writing, do't to-night.
I have out-ftood my time, which is material
To th' tender of our present.

Imo. I will write :

Send

your trunk to me, it fhall be fafe kept, And truly yielded you: you're very welcome. [Exeunt.

ACT

ACT II. SCENE I.

Clot. W

CYMBELINE's Palace.

Enter Cloten, and two Lords.

AS there ever man had fuch luck! when I kifs'd the Jack upon an up-caft, to be hit away! I had an hundred pound on't; and then a whorson jack-an-apes must take me up for fwearing, as if I borrowed mine oaths of him, and might not fpend them at my pleasure.

ILord. What got he by that? you have broke his pate with your bowl.

2 Lord. If his wit had been like his that broke it, it would have run all out,

[Afide. Clot. When a gentleman is difpofed to fwear, it is not for any ftanders-by to curtail his oaths. Ha?

2 Lord. No, my Lord: nor crop the ears of them. Clot. Whorfon dog! I give him fatisfaction? would he had been one of my rank.

2 Lord. To have fmelt like a fool.

[Afide.

Clot. I am not vext more at any thing in the earth,-a pox on't. I had rather not be fo noble as I am; they dare not fight with me, because of the Queen my mother; every jack-flave hath his belly full of fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock that no body can match.

2 Lord. You are a cock and a capon too, and you crow, cock, with your comb on. [Afide.

Clot. Say'ft thou?

2 Lord. It is not fit your Lordship should undertake every companion, that you give offence to.

Clot. No, I know that: but it is fit I fhould commit offence to my inferiors.

a

2 Lord. Ay, it is fit for your Lordship only.

Clot. Why, fo I fay,

1 Lord. Did you hear of a stranger that's come to Court to-night?

Clot. A ftranger, and I not know on't ?

I Lord. He's a strange fellow himself, and knows it not.

[Afide. 1 Lord.

Lord. There's an Italian come, and 'tis thought one

of Leonatus's friends.

Clot, Leonatus! a banish'd rafcal; and he's another, whofoever he be. Who told you of this ftranger?

I Lord. One of your Lordship's pages.

Clot. Is it fit I went to look upon him? is there no derogation in't?

2 Lord. You cannot derogate, my Lord.

Clot. Not eafily, I think.

2 Lord. You are a fool granted, therefore your iffues being foolish do not derogate.

[Afide.

what I have loft
Come; go.
[Exit Cloten.

Clot. Come, I'll go fee this Italian:
to day at bowls, I'll win to-night of him.
2 Lord. I'll attend your Lordship.
That such a crafty devil as his mother,
Should yield the world this afs! a woman, that
Bears all down with her brain, and this her fon
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 ftep-dame govern'd,
A mother hourly coining plots; a wooer,
More hateful than the foul expulfion is
Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act
Of the divorce hell made. The heav'ns hold firm
The walls of thy dear honour, keep unshak'd
That temple thy fair mind, that thou may'ft ftand

T' enjoy thy banifh'd Lord, and this great land! [Exeunt.
SCENE II.

A magnificent Bed-chamber, in one part of it a large trunk. Imogen is difcover'd reading in her bed, a Lady attending. Imo. Who's there? my woman Helen?

Lady. Please you, Madam

Imo. What hour is it?

Lady. Almoft midnight, Madam.

Imo. I have read three hours then, mine eyes are weak, Fold down the leaf where I have left; to bed

Take not away the taper, leave it burning:
And if thou canft awake by four o' th' clock,

I pr'ythee call me--fleep hath feiz'd me wholly. [Exit Lady.

Το