Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

The violets, cowslips, and the primroses,
Bear to my closet.-Fare thee well, Pisanio;
Think on my words.

Pis.

But when to my good lord I prove untrue,

[Exeunt Queen and Ladies.

And shall do:

I'll choke myself: there's all I'll do for you.

[Exit.

SCENE VI. The same. Another room in the same.

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(17) that's glorious: bless'd be those,
How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills,
Which seasons comfort.-Who may this be? Fie!
Enter PISANIO and IACHIMO.

Pis. Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome,

Comes from my lord with letters.

[blocks in formation]

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. [reads] "He is one of the noblest note, to whose kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Reflect upon him accordingly, as you value your trust (18)

LEONATUS."

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(19)
Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt
The fiery orbs above, and the twinn'd stones
Upon the number'd (20). 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.-Beseech you, sir, desire

[To Pisanio.

My man's abode where I did leave him : he

Is 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?"

[blocks in formation]

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(21) 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 wreck 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.

Had I this cheek

Iach.
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,
Fixing (22) 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(23) in an eye
Base and unlustrous (24) 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.

Has forgot Britain.

Iach.

My lord, I fear,

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 tomboys, 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.

Reveng'd!

Imo.
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?

Should he make me

Iach.
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.

[blocks in formation]

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

« ZurückWeiter »