Here comes a flatt'ring rafcal, upon him
Will I first work; he's for his mafter's fake.
An enemy to my fon. How now, Pifanio?
Doctor, your fervice for this time is ended,
Take your own way.

Cor. I do fufpect you, Madam.

But you fhall do no harm.

Queen. Hark thee a word.

[To Pifanio,

Cor. I do not like her. She doth think the has Strange ling'ring poifons; I do know her spirit, And will not truft one of her malice with

A drug of fuch damn'd nature.

That the has

Will ftupifie and dull the fenfe a while;

Which firft perchance fhe'll prove on cats and dogs,
Then afterward up higher; but there is

No danger in what fhew of death it makes,
More than the locking up the fpirits a time,
To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool'd
With a moft falfe effect; and I the truer,
So to be falfe with her.

Queen. No further service,

Doctor, until I fend.

Cor. I take my leave.

Queen. Weeps the ftill, fay'ft thou? doft thou
She will not quench, and let inftructions enter
Where folly now poffeffes? do thou work ;
When thou fhalt bring me word fhe loves my fon,
I'll tell thee on the inftant, thou art then
As great as is thy mafter; greater; for
His fortunes all lye fpeechlefs, and his name
Is at laft gafp. Return he cannot, nor
Continue where he is to fhift his being,
Is to exchange one mifery with another;
And every day that comes, comes to decay
A day's work in him. What fhalt thou expect
To be depender on a thing that leans,

:

Who cannot be new built, and has no friends,

So much as but to prop him? Thou tak'st up

[Pifanio looking on the vial.
Thou know'ft not what; but take it for thy labour;
It is a thing I make, which hath the King
Five times redeem'd from death; I do not know
What is more cordial. Nay, I pr'ythee take it,
It is an earnest of a further good

That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how
The cafe ftands with her; do't as from thy felf:
Think what a change thou chanceft on, but think
Thou haft thy mistress ftill; to boot, my fon,
Who fhall take notice of thee. I'll move the King
To any shape of thy preferment, fuch
As thou'lt defire; and then my felf, I chiefly
That fet thee on to this defert, am bound
To load thy merit richly. Call my women- [Exit Pifanio.
Think on my words. A fly and conftant knave,
Not to be shak'd; the agent for his master,
And the remembrancer of her to hold

The hand faft to her Lord. I've giv'n him that,
Which if he take, fhall quite unpeople her
Of leigers for her fweet; and which the after
(Except the bend her humour) fhall be affur'd
To tafte of too.

Enter Pifanio, and Ladies.
So, fo; well done, well done;

The violets, cowflips, and the prim-rofes,
Bear to my clofet; fare thee well, Pifanio,

Think on my words.

Pif. Ifhall do fo :

[Exeunt Queen and Ladies.

[Exit.

But when to my good Lord I prove untrue,
I'll choak my felf; there's all I'll do for you.
SCÉNÉ VIII. Imogen's Apartment.
Enter Imogen alone.

Imo. A father cruel, and a stepdame falfe,

A foolish fuitor to a wedded Lady,

That hath her husband banish'd

O, that hufband!

My fupream crown of grief and thofe repeated
Vexations of it

had I been thief-ftol'n, As my two brothers, happy! but most miferable

Is the degree that's glorious. Blefs'd be thofe,
How mean foe'er, that have their honeft wills,
Which feafons comfort, Who may this be? fie!
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, And greets your Highness dearly. Imo. Thanks, good Sir,

You're kindly welcome.

Iach. All of her, that is out of door, moft rich! [4. 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!
Arm me, audacity, from head to foot:
Or like the Parthian I fhall flying fight,

Rather directly fiye.

Imogen reads.

He is one of the nobleft note, to whofe kindnesses I am m infinitely tyed Reflect upon him accordingly, as you value your trueft

So far I read aloud.

But even the very middle of my heart

Is warmed by the reft, 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, faireft Lady.

Leonatus

What, are men mad? hath nature given them eyes
To fee this vaulted arch, and the rich crop
Of fea and land, which can diftinguish 'twixt
The fiery orbs above, and the twin ftones
Upon th' unnumber'd beach? and can we not
Partition make with fpectacles fo precious
"Twixt fair and foul?

Imo. What makes your admiration?

Tach. It cannot be i' th' eye; for apes, and monkeys, "Twixt two fuch She's, would chatter this way, and Contemn with mowes the other. Nor i' th' judgment;

Fa

For Idiots in this cafe of favour would
Be wifely definite. Nor in the appetite;
Slutt'ry to fuch neat excellence oppos'd
Should make defire vomit ev'n emptiness,
Not fo allure't to feed.

Imo. What is the matter, trow ?
lach. The cloyed will,

That fatiate, yet unfatisfy'd defire, 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?

lach. Thanks, Madam, well.

'Beseech you, Sir, defire my man's abode

[To Pifanio.

Where I did leave him; he is ftrange and sheepish.
Pif. I was just going, Sir, to give him welcome.

[Exit Pifanio. Imo. Continues well my Lord? his health, "beseech you?

Iach. Well, Madam.

Imo. Is he difpos'd to mirth?

hope he is. Fach. Exceeding pleafant; not a stranger there

So merry, and fo gamefome; he is call'd

The Briton reveller.

Imo. When he was here

He did incline to fadnefs, and oft times

Not knowing why.

Iach. I never faw him fad.

There is a Frenchman his companion, one

An eminent monfieur, that it feems much loves

A Gallian girl at home: He furnaces

The thick fighs from him; whiles the jolly Briton,

(Your Lord I mean,) laughs from's free lungs, cries Ob!

Can my fides bold, to think, that man who knows

By biftory, report, or his own proof,

What woman is, yea, what she cannot chufe
But muft be, will bis free hours languifh out

For affur'd bondage?

Imo. Will my Lord fay fo?

Iach. Ay, Madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter. It is a recreation to be by

Y 3

And

And hear him mock the Frenchman: but heav'n knows

Some men are much to blame.

Imo. Not he, I hope.

lach. Not he. But yet heav'ns bounty tow'rds him might Be us'd more thankfully. In himself 'tis much;

In you, whom I count his beyond all talents,-
Whilft 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 difcern you in me
Deferves your pity?

Iach. Lamentable! what!

To hide me from the radiant fun, and folace
I' th' 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 fay, enjoy your

- but

It is an office of the Gods to venge it,

Not mine to fpeak on't.

Imo. You do feem to know

Something of me, or what concerns me; pray you
(Since doubting things go ill often hurts more
Than to be fure they do; for certainties.

Or are paft remedies; or timely known,
The remedy's then born ;) difcover to me
What both you fpur and stop.

lach. Had I this cheek

To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whose touch,
Whofe very touch would force the feeler's foul
To th' oath of loyalty; this object, which
Takes pris'ner the wild motion of mine eye,
Fixing it only here: fhould I, damn'd then,
Slaver with lips as common as the stairs
That mount the Capitol ? join gripes with hands
Made hard with hourly falfhood, as with labour?
Then glad my felf by peeping in an eye

Bale