I do suspect you, madam; [Aside. Hark thee, a word. shall do no harm. Queen. Cor. [Aside.] I do not like her. She doth think, she has Strange lingering poisons: I do know her spirit, A drug of such a nature: Those, she has, Then afterward up higher; but there is Queen. Until I send for thee. Cor. No further service, doctor, I humbly take my leave. [Exit. Queen. Weeps she still, say'st thou? Dost thou think, in time She will not quench; and let instructions enter 7 To change his abode. Who cannot be new built; nor has no friends, [The Queen drops a Box: PISANIO takes it up. So much as but to prop him? Thou tak'st up Thou know'st not what; but take it for thy labour: It is a thing I made, which hath the king Five times redeem'd from death: I do not know That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how As thou'lt desire; and then myself, I chiefly, Not to be shak'd: the agent for his master; 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, Except she bend her humour, shall be assur'd 8 Re-enter PISANIO, and Ladies. To taste of too. — So, so ;- well done, well done : The violets, cowslips, and the primroses, Bear to my closet:- Fare thee well, Pisanio; Think on my words. [Exeunt Queen and Ladies. And shall do: Pis. But when to my good lord I prove untrue, 8 Ambassadors. [Exit. SCENE VII. Another Room in the same. Enter IMOGEN. Imo. A father cruel, and a step-dame false; A foolish suitor to a wedded lady, That hath her husband banish'd; — O, that husband! My supreme crown of grief! and those repeated may Enter PISANIO and IACHIMO. Pis. Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome; Iach. Change you, madam? [Presents a Letter. Thanks, good sir: And greets your highness dearly. Imo. You are kindly welcome. Iach. All of her, that is out of door, most rich! If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare, [Aside. Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend! Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight; Imo. [Reads.]. He is one of the noblest note, to whose kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Reflect upon him accordingly, as you value your truest LEONATUS. So far I read aloud: But even the middle of my very heart Is warm'd by the rest, and takes it thankfully.- Have words to bid you; and shall find it so, Iach. 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 Upon the number'd beach? and can we not Partition make with spectacles so precious "Twixt fair and foul? Imo. What makes your admiration? Iach. It cannot be i'the eye; for apes and mon keys, 'Twixt two such shes, would chatter this way, and Contemn with mows the other: Nor i'the judg ment; For idiots, in this case of favour, would Be wisely definite. Imo. What is't, dear sir, Thus raps you? Are you well? 'Beseech you, sir, desire [TO PISANIO. Iach. Thanks, madam; well : My man's abode where I did leave him : he Is strange and peevish.' To give him welcome. 1 I was going, sir, Exit PISANIO. 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: he is call'd The Briton reveller. , Making mouths. 1 Shy and foolish. Imo. When he was here, He did incline to sadness; and oft-times Not knowing why. Iach. I never saw him sad. There is a Frenchman his companion, one An eminent monsieur, that, it seems, much loves A Gallian girl at home: he furnaces The thick sighs from him; whiles the jolly Briton (Your lord, I mean,) laughs from's free lungs, cries, Can my 0! sides hold, to think, that man, By history, report, or his own proof, who knows What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose Imo. Will my lord say so? Iach. Ay, madam; with his eyes in flood with laughter. It is a recreation to be by, And hear him mock the Frenchman: But, heavens know, Some men are much to blame. Imo. Not he, I hope. Iach. Not he: But yet heaven's bounty towards him might Be us'd more thankfully. In himself, 'tis much which I count his, beyond all talents, In you, Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound To pity too. Imo. What do you pity, sir? Am I one, sir? Iach. Two creatures, heartily. Imo. You look on me: What wreck discern you in me, Deserves your pity? Iach. Lamentable! What! To hide me from the radiant sun, and solace Imo. I pray you, sir, |