ACT II.

SCENE I. Court before Cymbeline's Palace.

Enter CLOTEN and two Lords.

Clo. Was there ever man had such luck! when I kissed the jack upon an upcast, 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.

I 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!

2 Lord. To have smelt like a fool.

[Aside.

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 mother. Every jack-slave hath his belly full of fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock that nobody 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.

Clo. Come, I'll go see this Italian. day at bowls, I'll win to-night of him. 2 Lord. I'll attend your lordship.

[Aside. What I have lost toCome, go.

[Exeunt CLOTEN and first Lord.

That such a crafty devil as is his mother
Should yield the world this ass! a woman that
Bears all down with her brain; and this her son
Cannot take two from twenty for his heart,
And leave eighteen. Alas, poor princess,
Thou divine Imogen, what thou endur'st!
Betwixt a father by thy step-dame governed;
A mother hourly coining plots; a wooer
More hateful than the foul expulsion is
Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act

Of the divorce he'd make! The heavens hold firm

The walls of thy dear honor; keep unshaked

That temple, thy fair mind; that thou mayst stand,
To enjoy thy banished lord, and this great land! [Exit.

SCENE II. A Bedchamber; in one part of it a trunk.

IMOGEN, reading in her bed; a Lady attending.

Imo. Who's there? my woman Helen?

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 wake by four o' the clock,

I pr'ythee, call me. Sleep hath seized me wholly.

To your protection I commend me, gods!

From fairies, and the tempters of the night,

[Exit Lady.

Guard me, beseech ye! [Sleeps. IACHIMO, from the trunk. Iach. The crickets sing, and man's o'erlabored sense

Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus

Did softly press the rushes, ere he wakened

The chastity he wounded.-Cytherea,

How bravely thou becomest thy bed! Fresh lily!
And whiter than the sheets!

That I might touch!

But kiss; one kiss! - Rubies unparagoned,

How dearly they do't!-Tis her breathing that
Perfumes the chamber thus. The flame o' the taper
Bows toward her; and would underpeep her lids,
To see the inclosed lights, now canopied
Under these windows; white and azure, laced
With blue of heaven's own tinct.-But my design?
To note the chamber.-I will write all down;-
Such, and such, pictures; - there the window; - such
The adornment of her bed;-the arras, figures,
Why, such, and such;-and the contents o' the story,-
Ay, but some natural notes about her body,
Above ten thousand meaner movables

Would testify to enrich mine inventory.

O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her!
And be her sense but as a monument,
Thus in a chapel lying!-Come off, come off;-

[Taking off her bracelet. As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard! 'Tis mine; and this will witness outwardly, As strongly as the conscience does within, To the madding of her lord. On her left breast. A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops

I' the bottom of a cowslip. Here's a voucher,
Stronger than ever law could make: this secret

Will force him think I have picked the lock, and ta'en
The treasure of her honor. No more.-To what end?
Why should I write this down, that's riveted,
Screwed to my memory? She hath been reading late
The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turned down,
Where Philomel gave up.-I have enough;

To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it.
Swift, swift, you dragons of the night!-that dawning
May bare the raven's eye. I lodge in fear;

Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here. [Clock strikes.
One, two, three,-Time, time!

[Goes into the trunk. The scene closes.

SCENE III. An Antechamber adjoining Imogen's Apart

ment.

Enter CLOTEN and Lords.

1 Lord. Your lordship is the most patient man in loss, the most coldest that ever turned up ace.

Clo. It would make any man cold to lose.

1 Lord. But not every man patient, after the noble temper of your lordship. You are most hot and furious, when you win.

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

1 Lord. Day, my lord.

Clo. I would this music would come. I am advised to give her music o' mornings; they say, it will penetrate.

Enter Musicians.

Come on; tune. If you can penetrate her with your fingering, so; 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 sweet air, with admirable rich words to it, and then let her consider.

SONG.

Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phabus 'gins arise,

His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced flowers that lies;

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

With every thing that pretty bin:
My lady sweet, arise;
Arise, arise.

So, get you gone. If this penetrate, I will consider your
music the better; if it do not, it is a vice in her ears, which
horse-hairs, and cat-guts, nor the voice of unpaved eunuch
to boot, can never amend.
[Exeunt Musicians.

Enter CYMBELINE and Queen.

2 Lord. Here comes the king.

Clo. I am glad I was up so late; for that's the reason I was up so early. He cannot choose but take this service I have done, fatherly.- Good morrow to your majesty, and to my gracious mother.

Cym. Attend you here the door of our stern daughter? Will she not forth?

Clo. I have assailed her with music; but she vouchsafes no notice.

Cym. The exile of her minion is too new; She hath not yet forgot him: some more time

Must wear the print of his remembrance out,
And then she's yours.

Queen.
You are most bound to the king;
Who lets go by no vantages, that may
Prefer you to his daughter. Frame yourself
To orderly solicits; and be friended
With aptness of the season.

Make denials

Increase your services; so seem, as if
You were inspired to do those duties which
You tender to her; that you in all obey her,
Save when command to your dismission tends,
And therein you are senseless.

Clo.

Senseless? not so.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. So like you, sir, ambassadors from Rome; The one is Caius Lucius.

Cym.

A worthy fellow,

Albeit he comes on angry purpose now;

But that's no fault of his. We must receive him
According to the honor of his sender;

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

When you have given good morning to your mistress,
Attend the queen, and us; we shall have need
To employ you towards this Roman.- Come, our queen.
[Exeunt CYM., Queen, Lords, and Mess.
Clo. If she be up, I'll speak with her; if not,
Let her lie still, 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, and makes
Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up

Their deer to the stand of the stealer; and 'tis gold

Which makes the true man killed, and saves the thief;

Nay, sometime, hangs both thief and true man.
Can it not do, and undo? I will make

One of her women lawyer to me; for

I yet not understand the case myself.

By your leave.

Lady. Who's there that knocks?

Clo.

Lady.

What

[Knocks.

Enter a Lady.

Clo. Yes, and a gentlewoman's son.