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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. — 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

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. Pis.

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


8 Ambassadors.


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 ;- 0, that hus

band ! 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? Fye!

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

Change you, madam?
The worthy Leonatus is in safety,
And greets your highness dearly.

[Presents a Letter. Imo.

Thanks, good sir : You are kindly welcome. Iach. All of her, that is out of door, most rich!

[ Aside.
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

Arm me, audacity, from head to foot!
Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight;
Rather, directly fly.

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


So far I read aloud :
But even the very middle of my

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.

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


admiration? lach. It cannot be i'the



apes and monkeys, 'Twixt two such shes, would chatter this way, and Contemn with mows' the other: Nor i'the judg

For idiots, in this case of favour, would
Be wisely definite.

What is't, dear sir,
Thus raps you? Are you well?
Iach. Thanks, madam ; well :
sir, desire

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

I was going, sir, To give him welcome.

(Exit PISANIO, Imo. Continues well my lord? His health, 'beseech

'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.

Shy and foolish.


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
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,

0! 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 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,
Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound
To pity too.

Imo. What do you pity, sir ?
Iach. Two creatures, heartily.

Am I one, sir ?
You look on me: What wreck discern you in me,
Deserves your pity ?

Lamentable! What!
To hide me from the radiant sun, and solace
I'the dungeon by a snuff?

I pray you, sir,

In you,

Deliver with more openness your answers

demands. Why do you pity me?
Iach. That others do,
I was about to say, enjoy your But
It is an office of the gods to 'venge it,
Not mine to speak on't.

You do seem to know
Something of me, or what concerns me: 'Pray you,
(Since doubting things go ill often hurts more
Than to be sure they do: For certainties
Either are past remedies; or, timely knowing,
The remedy then born,) discover to me
What both

you spur


stop.? Iach.

Had I this cheek
To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whose touch,
Whose every touch, would force the feeler's soul
To the oath of loyalty ; this object, which
Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye,
Fixing it only here: should I then join
With hands made hard with hourly falsehood,
(With falsehood as with labour;) it were fit
That all the plagues of hell should at one time
Encounter such revolt.

My lord, I fear,
Has forgot Britain.

And himself. Not I,
Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce
The beggary of his change; but 'tis your graces
That, from my mutest conscience, to my tongue,
Charms this report out,

Let me hear no more. Iach. O dearest soul ! your cause doth strike my

heart With pity, that doth make me sick. A lady So fair, and fasten'd to an empery, Would make the great'st king double! to be partner'd


2 What you seem anxious to utter, and yet withhold,

3 Sovereign command, VOL. IX.


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