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I do suspect you, madam;

[Aside.

Hark thee, a word.
[TO PISANIO.

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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,
And will not trust one of her malice with

A drug of such a nature: Those, she has,
Will stupify and dull the sense awhile:
Which first, perchance, she'll prove on cats and
dogs;

Then afterward up higher; but there is
No danger in what show of death it makes,
More than the locking up the spirits a time,
To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool'd
With a most false effect; and I the truer,
So to be false with her.

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
Where folly now possesses? Do thou work;
When thou shalt bring me word, she loves my son,
I'll tell thee, on the instant, thou art then
As great as is thy master: greater; for
His fortunes all lie speechless, and his name
Is at last gasp: Return he cannot, nor
Continue where he is: to shift his being",
Is to exchange one misery with another;
And every day, that comes, comes to decay
A day's work in him: What shalt thou expect,
To be depender on a thing that leans ?

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
What is more cordial : Nay, I pr'ythee, take it;
It is an earnest of a further good

That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how
The case stands with her; do't, as from thyself.
Think what a chance thou changest on; but think
Thou hast thy mistress, still; to boot, my son,
Who shall take notice of thee: I'll move the king
To any shape of thy preferment, such

As thou'lt desire; and then myself, I chiefly,
That set thee on to this desert, am bound
To load thy merit richly. Call my women:
Think on my words. [Exit PISA.] — A sly and con-
stant knave;

Not to be shak'd: the agent for his master;
And the remembrancer of her, to hold

The hand fast to her lord.

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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,
I'll choke myself: there's all I'll do for you.

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
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
this be? Fye!

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Enter PISANIO and IACHIMO.

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

Iach.
The worthy Leonatus is in safety,

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,
She is alone the Arabian bird; and I

[Aside.

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

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

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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.-
You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I

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

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.'
Pis.

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
But must be,will his free hours languish for
Assur'd bondage?

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
I'the dungeon by a snuff?

Imo.

I pray you, sir,

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