↑ Lord, You cannot derogate, my Lord. Clot. Not easily, I think.

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

[Afide Clot. Come, I'll go fee this Italian: what I have loft to-day at bowls, I'll win to-night of him. Come; go.

2 Lord. I'll attend your Lordship. [Exit Cloten.. That fuch 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, good Princess,
Thou divine Imogen, what thou endur'ft,
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.he'd make.-The heav'ns hold firm.
The walls of thy dear honour; keep unfhak'd
That temple, thy fair mind; that thou may'st stand®
T'enjoy thy bani'd Lord, and this great land!
[Exeunt.

Changes to a magnificent Bed-Chamber; in one part of it a large trunk.

Imogen is difcovered reading in her bed, a Lady attending.

Imo. Who's there? my woman Helen?
Lady. Pleafs you, Madam-

Imo. What hour is it?

Lady. Almoft midnight, Madam.

Into. 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,
Jpr'ythee call me, Sleep hath feiz'd me wholly.
[Exir Lady

To your protection I commend me, Gods;
From fairies, and the tempters of the night,
Guard me, befeech ye.

[Sleeps.

[fenfe

[lachimo rifes from the trunk. Iach. The crickets fing, and man's o'er-labour'd Repairs itfelf by reft. Our Tarquin thus Did foftly prefs the rushes *, ere he waken'd The chafity he wounded. Cytherea, How bravely thou becom'ft thy bed! fresh lily, And whiter than the fheets! that I might touch, But kifs, one kifs-rubies unparagon'd,

How dearly they do't!-'tis her breathing that
Perfumes the chamber thus: the flame o' th' taper
Bows tow'rd her, and would under-peep her lids,
To fee th' inclofed light, now canopy'd

Under thefe windows: white and azure! lac'd
With blue of heav'n's own tinct.-But my delign's
To note the chamber-I will write all down,
Sach and fuch pictures-there, the window,-fuch
Th' adornment of her bed-the arras, figures-
Why, fuch and fuch-and the contents o' th'itory-- -
Ah, but fome nat'ral notes about her body,
Above ten thousand meaner moveables,
Would teftify, t' enrich my inventory.,
O Sleep, thou ape of death, ly dull upon her!
And be her fenfe but as a monument,
Thus in a chapel lying!-Come off, come off..
[Taking off her bracelet.”-
As flipp'ry as the Gordian knot was hard.
'Tis mine; and this will witnefs outwardly,
As ftrongly as the confcience does within,
To th' madding of her lord. On her left breast
A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops
l' th' bottom of a cowflip. Here's a voucher,
Stronger than ever law could make this fecret
Will force him think, I've pick'd the lock, and ta'en
The treasure of her honour. No more-to what
end?

It was the custom, in the time of our author, to strew chambers with rules, as we now cover them with care pets. Johnjon.

Why should I write this down that's rivetted,
Screw'd to my mem'ry? She hath been reading, late,!
The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turn'd down,-
Where Philomel gave up-I have enough:
To th' trunk again, and fhut the spring of it.
Swift, fwift, you dragons of the night! that daw-
May bare its raven eyes: I lodge in fear; [ning
Though this a heav'nly angel, hell is here.

One, two, three: time, time!

[Clock ftrikes.

[Goes into the trunk, the Scene clofes.

SCENE III.

Changes to another part of the Palace, facing Imogen's Apartments.

Enter Cloten and Lords.

1 Lord. Your Lordship is the most patient man in loss, the coldest that ever turn'd up ́ace. Clot. It would make any man cold to lose.

1 Lord. But not every man patient, after the no→ ble temper of your Lordfhip': you are most hot and furious when you win.

Clot. Winning will put any man into courage. If I could get this foolish Imogen, I thould have gold enough. It's almost morning, is't not?.

1 Lord. Day, my Lord.

Clot. I would this mufic would come: I'am advis'd to give her mufic o' mornings; they fay it will penetrate.

Enter Maficians.

Come on. Tune. If you can penetrate her with your fingering, fo: we'll try with tongue too; if none will do, let her remain: but I'll never give o'er. First, a very excellent good conceited thing; after, a wonderful fweet air with admirable rich words to it; and then let her confider.

SONG.

Hark, hark! the lark at heav'n's gate fings,

And Phebus 'gins drife,

His feeds to water at thofe fprings
On chalic'd flowers that lyes

And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes;

**

With every thing that pretty bin,
My lady fweet, arife:
Arife, arife.

So, get you gone. If this penetrate, I will confi-
der your mufic the better: if it do not, it is a vice
in her ears, which horfe-hairs, and cats-guts, nor
the voice of unpaved eunuch to boot, can never
mend.
[Exeunt Muficiansa

Enter Queen and Cymbeline.

2 Lord. Here comes the King.

Glot. I am glad I was up fo late, for that's the realon I was up fo early: he cannot chufe but take this fervice I have done fatherly. Good morrow to your Majefty, and to my gracious mother.

Cym. Attend you here the door of our ftern daugh Will the not forth?

[ter? Clot. I have affail'd her with mafies, but fhe vouchfafes no notice.

Cym. The exile of her minion is too new,
She hath not vet forgot him; fome more time
Muft wear the print of his remembrance out,
And then he's yours.

Queen. You are most bound to th' King,
Who lets go by no vantages that may
Prefer you to his daughter. Frame yourself
To orderly follicits, and be friended
With aptness of the feafon; make denials
Encreate your fervices; fo feem as if
You were infpir'd to do thofe duties which

i. e. the morning fun dries up the dew which lyes in the cups of flowers. Warburton.

You tender to her: that you in all obey her,
Save when command to your difmiffion tends,
And therein you are fenfelels.

Clot. Sentelefs? not fo.

Enter a Mesenger.

Mef. So like you, Sir, ambaffadors from Rome; : The one is Caius Lucius.

Cym. A worthy fellow,

Albeit he comes on angry purpofe now:

But that's no fault of his; we must receive him
According to the honour of his fender;

And towards himself, his goodness forespent on ust, .
We must extend our notice.-Our dear fon,

When you have giv'n good morning to your miftrefs, Attend the Queen and us; we shall have need T'employ you towards this Roman. Come, our [Exeunt.

Queen.

Clot. If he be up, I'll fpeak with her; if not, Let her ly ftill, and dream. By your leave, ho!

[Knocks.

I know her women are about her. What
If I do line one of their hands? 'Tis gold
Which buys admittance, oft it doth; yea, makes
Diana's rangers falle themselves, yield up

Their deer to th' ftand o' th' ftealer and 'tis gold
Which makes the true man kill'd, and faves the thief; .
Nay, fometimes, hangs both thief and true man.
Can it not do and undo? I will make
One of her women lawyer to me,
I yet not understand the cafe myself.
By your leave—_____

Enter a Lady.

for

Lady. Who's there, that knocks?

Clot. A Gentleman.

[What

[Knocks

Lady. No more?

† i. e. the good offices done by him to us heretofore.

Warburton.