For such an end thou seek'st; as base, as strange. Thee and the devil alike :-What ho, Pisanio!- Half all men's hearts are his.. Imo. You make amends. lach. He sits 'mongst men, like a descended god :: Which you know, cannot err: The love I bear him Iach. My humble thanks. I had almost forgot To entreat your grace but in a small request, And yet of moment too, for it concerns Your lord; myself, and other noble friends, Are partners in the business. Imo. Pray, what is't? Iach. Some dozen Romans of us, and your lord, (The best feather of our wing) have mingled sums, To buy a present for the emperor; Which I, the factor for the rest, have done In France: "Tis plate, of rare device; and jewels, Imo. Willingly; And pawn mine honour for their safety: since My lord hath interest in them, I will keep them In my bed-chamber. Iach. They are in a trunk, Attended by my men: I will make bold To send them to you only for this night; I must aboard to-morrow. Iach. Yes, I beseech; or I shall short my word, By length'ning my return. From Gallia I cross'd the seas on purpose, and on promise To see your grace. Imo. I thank you for your pains; But not away to-morrow? Iach. Imo. I will write. Send your trunk to me; it shall safe be kept, SCENE I-Court before Cymbeline's Palace. Enter Cloten, and two Lords. Cloten. WAS there ever man had such luck! when Lkissed the jack upon an up-cast, to be hit away! I had a hundred pound on't: And then a whoreson jackanapes must take me up for swearing; as if I borrowed mine oaths of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure. 1 Lord. What got he by that? You have broke his pate with your bowl. 2 Lord. If his wit had been like him that broke it, it would have ran all out. [Aside. Clo. When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths: Ha? 2 Lord. No, my lord; nor [Aside.] crop the ears of them. Clo. Whoreson dog!--I give him satisfaction? 'Would, he had been one of my rank! [Aside. 2 Lord. To have smelt like a fool. Clo. I am not more vexed at any thing in the earth,— A pox on't! I had rather not be so noble as I am; they dare not fight with me, because of the queen my mo ther: every jack-slave hath his belly full of fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock that no body can match. 2 Lord. You are a cock, and capon too; and you crow, cock, with your comb on. [Aside. Clo. Sayest thou? 1 Lord. It is not fit, your lordship should undertake every companion that you give offence to. Clo. No, I know that: but it is fit, I should commit offence to my inferiors. 2 Lord. Ay, it is fit for your lordship only. Clo. Why, so I say. 1 Lord. Did you hear of a stranger, that's come to court to-night? Clo. A stranger! and I not know on't! 2 Lord. He's a strange fellow himself, and knows it not. [Aside. 1 Lord. There's an Italian come; and, 'tis thought, one of Leonatus' friends. Clo. Leonatus! a banished rascal; and he's another, whatsoever he be. Who told you of this stranger? 1 Lord. One of your lordship's pages. Clo. Is it fit, I went to look upon him? Is there no derogation in't? 1 Lord. You cannot derogate, my lord. Clo. Not easily, I think. 2 Lord. You are a fool granted; therefore your issues being foolish, do not derogate. [Aside. Clo. Come, I'll go see this Italian: what I have lost to-day at bowls, I'll win to-night of him. Come, go. 2 Lord. I'll attend your lordship. [Exeunt Cloten and first Lord. Of the divorce he'd make! The heavens hold firm That temple, thy fair mind; that thou may`st stand, To enjoy thy banish'd lord, and this great land! [Exit. SCENE II-A Bed-Chamber; in one part of it a trunk. Imogen reading in her bed; a Lady attending. Imo. Who's there? my woman Helen? Lady. Imo. What hour is it? Lady. Please you, madam. Almost midnight, madam. Imo. 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 canst awake by four o'the clock, I pr'ythee, call me. Sleep hath seiz'd me wholly. [Exit Lady. To your protection I commend me, gods ! Iachimo, from the trunk. [Sleeps. lach. The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd sense Repairs itself by rest: Our Tarquin thus Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken'd How bravely thou becom'st thy bed! fresh lily! How dearly they do't!-'Tis her breathing that |