To load thy merit richly. Call my women.

Think on my words.

Exit Pisanio.

A sly and constant knave,

Not to be shak'd; the agent for his master

76

And the remembrancer of her to hold
The hand-fast to her lord. I have given him that
Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her

Of liegers for her sweet, and which she after, 80
Except she bend her humour, shall be assur'd
To taste of too.

Re-enter Pisanio and Ladies.

But when to my good lord I prove untrue,
I'll choke myself. There's all I'll do for you.

SCENE VI

[The same.

Another room in the palace.]

Enter Imogen.

Imo. A father cruel, and a step-dame false;

A foolish suitor to a wedded lady,

Exit.

That hath her husband banish'd;

-O, that

husband!

5

My supreme crown of grief! and those repeated
Vexations of it! Had I been thief-stolen,
As my two brothers, happy! but most miserable
Is the desire that's glorious. Blessed be those,
How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills,
Which seasons comfort. Who may this be?
Fie!

Enter Pisanio and Iachimo.

Pis. Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome,
Comes from my lord with letters.

Iach.

10

Change you, madam ?

The worthy Leonatus is in safety
And greets your Highness dearly.

[Presents a letter.]

Thanks, good sir;

Imo.

You're kindly welcome.

Iach. [Aside.] All of her that is out of door most

rich!

If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare,

She is alone, the Arabian bird, and I

Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend!
Arm me, audacity, from head to foot!

15

Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight; 20
Rather, directly fly.

66

Imo. (Reads.) - He is one of the noblest

Iach.

Imo.

note, to whose kindnesses I am most infinitely
tied. Reflect upon him accordingly, as you

value your trust

So far I read aloud

LEONATUS"

But even the very middle of my heart

Is warm'd by the rest

fully.

25

and take it thank

You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I

Have words to bid you, and shall find it so 30
In all that I can do.

Thanks, fairest lady.

What, are men mad? Hath nature given them

eyes

To see this vaulted arch, and the rich crop

Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt
The fiery orbs above and the twinn'd stones 35
Upon the number'd beach, and can we not

Partition make with spectacles so precious
"Twixt fair and foul?

What makes your admiration ?

Iach. It cannot be i̇' the eye, for apes and mon

keys

"Twixt two such shes would chatter this way and Contemn with mows the other; nor i' the

judgement,

For idiots in this case of favour would
Be wisely definite; nor i' the appetite;
Sluttery to such neat excellence oppos'd

41

Should make desire vomit emptiness,

Not so allur'd to feed.

Imo. What is the matter, trow?

Iach.

Imo.

45

The cloyed will, —

That satiate yet unsatisfi'd desire, that tub

Both fill'd and running, — ravening first the

lamb,

Longs after for the garbage.

What, dear sir, 50

Thus raps you? Are you well?

Iach. Thanks, madam; well. [To Pisanio.] Beseech

Pis.

you, sir, desire

My man's abode where I did leave him. He
Is strange and peevish.

To give him welcome.

I was going, sir,

Exit.

Imo. Continues well my lord? His health, beseech

you?

Iach. Well, madam.

Imo. Is he dispos'd to mirth? I hope he is.

Iach. Exceeding pleasant; none a stranger there
So merry and so gamesome.

Imo.

Iach.

The Briton reveller.

He is call'd.

When he was here,

He did incline to sadness, and oft-times
Not knowing why.

I never saw him sad.
There is a Frenchman his companion, one

56

60

Imo.

An eminent monsieur, that, it seems, much

loves

A Gallian girl at home. He furnaces

65

The thick sighs from him, whiles the jolly

Briton

Your lord, I mean - laughs from's free lungs, cries "O,

Can my sides hold, to think that man, who knows

By history, report, or his own proof,

What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose
But must be, will his free hours languish for
Assured bondage?"

Will my lord say so?

70

Iach. Ay, madam, with his eyes in flood with laugh

Imo.

ter.

It is a recreation to be by

75

And hear him mock the Frenchman. But, heavens

know,

Some men are much to blame.

Not he, I hope.

Iach. Not he; but yet heaven's bounty towards him

might

Be used more thankfully. In himself, 'tis much;

Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound

To pity too.