Who fhall take notice of thee. I'll move the King As thou'lt defire; and then myself, I chiefly, To load thy merit richly. Call my women-[Exit Pisa. The hand fast to her Lord.-I've giv'n him that, Enter Pifanio, and Ladies. So, fo; well done, well done; The violets, cowflips, and the primroses, Pif. And fhall do: [Exeunt Queen and Ladies. you. [Exit. But when to my good Lord I prove untrue, Imo. SCENE changes to Imogen's Apartments. A Enter Imogen alone. Father cruel, and a ftepdame falfe, A foolish fuitor to a wedded lady, That hath her husband banish'd-O, that husband! My fupreme crown of grief, and thofe repeated Vexations of it-Had I been thief-ftoll'n, As my two brothers, happy! but most miferable Is the defire, that's glorious. Blefs'd be thofe, How mean foe'er, that have their honeft wills, Which feafons comfort. Who may this be? fy! Think what a Change thou chanceft on, i. e. if you will fall into my Meafures, do but think how you will chance to change your Fortunes for the better, in the Confequences that will attend your Compliance. Enter Enter Pifanio, and Iachimo. Pif. Madam, a noble Gentleman of Rome Comes from my Lord with letters. Iach. Change you, Madam ? The worthy Leonatus is in fafety, Imo. Thanks, good Sir, You're kindly welcome. Iach. All of her, that is out of door, moft rich! If the be furnish'd with a mind fo rare, She is alone th' Arabian bird; and I Have loft the wager. Boldness be my friend! He is one of the moft infinitely tied. value your trust. Imogen reads. [Afide nobleft note, to whofe kindnesses I am Reflect upon him accordingly, as you So far I read aloud : But ev❜n the very middle of my heart Leonatus. Is warm'd by th' reft, and takes it thankfully.- Have word's to bid you; and fhall find it fo, Iach. Thanks, faireft Lady What! are men mad? hath nature given them eyes (6) and the trinn'd Stones Partition Upon the number'd Beach.] I have no Idea, in what Senfe the Beach, or Shore, fhould be called number'd, I have ventured, against all the Copies, to fubftitute. K Upon Partition make with fpectacles fo precious "Twixt fair and foul br Imo. What makes your admiration? Iach. It cannot be i'th' eye; (for apes and monkeys, "Twixt two such she's, would chatter this way, and Contemn with mowes the other:) Nor i'th' judgment; (For Ideots, in this cafe of favour, would Be wifely definite :) Nor i'th appetite: (Slutt'ry, to fuch neat excellence oppos'd, Should make defire vomit emptinefs, Not fo allur'd to feed.) Imo. What is the matter, trow? Iach. The cloyed will,c That fatiate, yet unfatisfy'd defire, (that tub, Inio. What, dear Sir, Thus raps you? are you well? Iach. Thanks, Madam, well-Befeech you, Sir,', [To Pifanio. Defire my man's abode, where I did leave him; He's ftrange, and peevish. Pif I was going, Sir, To give him welcome. Imo. Continues well my Lords. His health, 'befeech you? Iach. Well, Madam.. Imo. Is he difpos'd to mirth? I hope, he is. Iach. Exceeding pleafant; none a stranger there So merry and fo gamefome; he is call'd The Britaine Reveller. Upon th unnumber'd Beach. i. e. the infinite, extensive Beach, if we are to understand the Epithet as coupled to that Word. But, I rather think, the Poer intended an Hypallage, like that in the Beginning of Ovip's Metamorphofes : (In nova fert Animus mutatas dicere formas And then we are to underfand the Paffage thus; and ske infinite Imo. When he was here, He did incline to sadness, and oft times Iach. I never faw him fad. There is a Frenchman his companion, one, An eminent Monfieur, that, it seems, much loves The thick fighs from him; whiles the jolly Briton, What woman is, yea, what she cannot chuse Imo. Will my Lord fay fo? Iach. Ay, madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter, It is a recreation to be by, And hear him mock the Frenchman: but heav'n knows, Some men are much to blame. Imo. Not he, I hope. Iach. Not he. But yet heav'n's bounty tow'rds high might Be us'd more thankfully. In himfelf, 'tis much; You look on me; what wreck difcern you in me, Deferves your pity? Iath. Lamentable! what! To hide me from the radiant fun, and folace I'th' dungeon by a fnuff? Imo. I pray you, Sir, Deliver with more openness your answers. I was about to fay, enjoy your-but K 3*** It It is an office of the Gods to venge it, Imo. You do feem to know Something of me, or what concerns me; pray you,' lach. Had I this cheek To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whose touch, Bafe and unluftrous as the fmoaky light That's fed with ftinking tallow, it were fit, That all the plagues of hell fhould at one time ET Encounter fuch revolt. Imo. My Lord, I fear, Has forgot Britaine. Iach. And himself. Not I, Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce The beggary of his change; but 'tis your graces, Imo. Let me hear no more. Iach. O dearest foul! your caufe doth ftrike my heart With pity, that doth make me fick. A Lady So fair, and faften'd to an empery, Would make the great'ft King double! to be partner'd With tomboys, hir'd with that felf-exhibition Which your own coffers yield!-with difeas'd ventures, Which rottennefs lends nature! such boyl'd stuff, Or |