1

Clot. Yes, and a gentlewoman's son.

Ladly. That's more
Than some, whose taylors are as dear as yours,
Can juftly boast of. What's your Lordihip's plea-

fure ?
Clat. Your lady's person. Is se ready?
Lidy. Ay, to keep her chamber.
Clot. There is gold for you; tell me your good

report,
Lady. How, my good nanie? or to report of you
What I shall think is good? The princeis-

Enter Imogen.
Glot. Good-morrow, fairelt. Sister, your sweet

hand.
Imo. Good-morrow, Sir. You lay out too much

pains
For purchasing but trouble ; the thanks I give,
Is telling you that I am poor of thanks,
And scarce can spare them.

Clot. Still, I swear, I love you.

Imo. If you but said so, 'twere as deep with me;
If you swear ftill, your recompence is still
I hat I regard it 110t.

Clot. This is no answer.
Imo. But that you mail not fay I yield, being fi-

lent,
I would not speak. I pray you spare me faith
I Thall unfold equal discourtesy
To your best kindness: one of your great knowing
Should learn, being taught, forbearance.

Clot. To leave you in your madness, 'twere my
I will not.

[lin,
Imo. Fools cure not mad folks.
Clit. Do you call me, fool?

imo. As I am mad, I do.
If you'll be patient, I'll no more be mad;
That cures us both. I am much forry, Sir,
You put me to forget a lady's manners,
By being so verbal: and learn now for all,
That I, who know iny heart, do here pronouncs
By th' very truth of it, I care not for you':

And am so near the lack of charity,
T'accuse myself I hate you; which I had rather
You feli, than make my boast.

Clot. You fin against
Obedience, which you ove your father ; for
The contract you pretend with that base wretch,
One bred of alms, and foster'd with cold dishes,
With scrapes o th' court, it is no contract, none :
And though it be allow'd in meaner parties,
Yet who than he more mean? to knit their souls
On whom there is no more dependency
But brats and beggary, in self-figur'd knot t:
Yet you are curb'd from ihat enlargement by
The consequence o'th' crown; and must not foil
The precious note of it with a base llave,
A hilding for a livery. a Iquire's cloth;
A pantler; not so eininent

Imo. Profane fellow!
Wert thou the son of Jupiter, and no more
But what thou art, besides, thou wert too base
To be his groom : thou wert dignify'd enough,
Ev'n to the point of envy, if 'twere made
Comparative for your virtues to be stild
The under-hangman of his realın; and hated
For being preferr'd so well.

Clot. The south-fog rot him!
Imo. He never can nieet more mischance, than

come

To be but nam'd of thee. His meanest garment,
That ever hath but clipi his body, 's dearer
In piy relpect, th-n all the hairs above thee,
Were they all made fuch mien. How now,

Pisanio?
Erter Pisanio.
Clot. His garment? now, the devil
Imo. To Doroihy, my woman, hie thee presently,
Clot His garment?

11o. I an prighted with a fool, Frighted, and angred worte:-Go, bid my woman † A felf-figured kuct is a kno: formed by yourselves.

Toso.

Search for a jewel, that too cafiially
Hath left mine arı-it was thy master's. Shrew
If I would lose it for a revenue

[me
Of any king of Europe. I do think
I saw 't this morning; confident I am,
Last night 'twas on iny arm; I killed it,
I hope it be not gone, to tell my Lord
That I kiss aught but him.

Pis. 'Twill not be lost.
Imo. I hope so. Go, and search.

Clot. You have abus'd ine.
His meanest garment-

Imo. Ay, I said so, Sir;
If you will make 't an action, call witness to 't.

Clot. I will inform your father.

Imio. Your mother too;
She's my good lady; and will conceive, I hope,
But the worit of me. So I leave you, Sir,
To th' worst of discontent.

[Exito
Clot. I'll be reveng’d.
His meanest garment? well.

[Exit.

S CE NE V.

Changes to Rome.

Post. Fear it not, Sir. I would I were so sure
To win the king, as I am bold her honour
Will reinain hers.

Phil. What means do vou make to him?

Poft.. Not any, but abide the change of time ;
Quake in the present winter's state, and wish
That warmer days 'would come ; in these fear'd
I barely gratify your love; they failing, [hopes,
I must die much your debtor.

Phil. Your very goodness, and your company,
O'erpays all I can do. By this, your King
Hath heard of great Augustus ; Caius Lucius
Will do 's commillion throughly. And, I think,
He'll grant the tribute ; send th' arrearages,

F'er look upon our Romans, whose remembrance
Is yet freil in their grief.

Polt. I do believe,
Siatit though I am none, nor like to be,

That this shall prove a war; and you iliall hear
'The legions, now in Gallia, sooner landed
In our not-fearing Britain, than hare tidings
of any penny tribute paid. Our countrymen
Are men more order'd, than when Julius Cæfar
Suld at their lack of skill, but found their courage
Worihy of frowning at. Their discipline,
Non mingled with iheir courages, will make known
To their approvers * they are people such
That mend upon the world,

S C Ε Ν Ε VI.

Enter Iachimo. Pliil. See, Iachimo. i Pist. Sure, the swift harts have posed you by And winds of all the corners kiss'd your sails, [land, To make your veffel nimble.

Phil. Welcome, Sir.

Post. I hope the briefness of your answer made The speediness of your return.

lach. Your lady Is of the fairest I e'er look'd upon.

Poft. And there wiilial the beit; or let her beauty Look through a casement to allure falle hearts, And be false with them.

Jach. Here are letters for you.
Poft. Their tenour good, I trust.
Jach. 'Tis like.

Post. Was Caius Lucius in the Britain Court
When you were there?

Iach. He was expected then,
But not approach'd.

Pojt. All is well yet.'
Sparkles this stone as it was wont, or is't pot
Too dull for your good wearing ?

is to those who try them. Varburton.

very

lach. If I've lost it,
I would have lost the worth of it in gold ;
I'll make a jeurney twice as far, t' enjoy
A second night of such sweet shortness, which
Was mine in Britain ; for the ring is won.

Post. The stone's too hard to come by.

Iach. Not a whit,
Your lady being so easy.

Post. Make not, Sir,
Your boss your sport. I hope you know that tre
Must not contitrue friends.

Iach, Good Sir, we must,
If you keep covenant. Had I not brouglit
The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant
We were to question farther ; but I now
Profefs myself the,winner of her honour,
Together with your ring, and not the wronger
Of her or you, having proceeded bat
By both your wills.

Poft. If you can make 't apparent
That you have tasted her in bed, my hand
And sing is yours; if not, the foul opinion
You had of her pure honour, gains or loses
Your sword or mine, or masterless leaves boti
To who shall find them.

Iach. Sir, my circumstances
Being so near the truth, as I will make them,
Must first induce you to believe; whose strengil
I will confirm with oath, which, I doubt not,
You'll give me leave to spare, when you shall find
You need it not.

Post. Proceed.

lach. First, her bed-chamber,
Where, I confess, I Nept not, but profess
Had that was well worth watching, it was hang'à
With tapestry of filk and silver; the story,
Proud Cleopatra, when she net her Roman,
And Cydnus swellid above the banks, or for
The press of boats, or pride.- A piece of work
So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive
In workmanship and value; which I wonder'd,
Could be so rarely and exactly wrought,
VOL. IX.

N