1609 Cymbeline
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Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 Next page 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. IMOGEN. Let me hear no more. IACHIMO. 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 With tomboys hir'd with that self exhibition Which your own coffers yield! with diseas'd ventures That play with all infirmities for gold Which rottenness can lend nature! such boil'd stuff As well might poison poison! Be reveng'd; Or she that bore you was no queen, and you Recoil from your great stock. IMOGEN. Reveng'd? How should I be reveng'd? If this be true- As I have such a heart that both mine ears Must not in haste abuse- if it be true, How should I be reveng'd? IACHIMO. Should he make me Live like Diana's priest betwixt cold sheets, Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps, In your despite, upon your purse? Revenge it. I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure, More noble than that runagate to your bed, And will continue fast to your affection, Still close as sure. IMOGEN. What ho, Pisanio! IACHIMO. Let me my service tender on your lips. IMOGEN. Away! I do condemn mine ears that have So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable, Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not For such an end thou seek'st, as base as strange. Thou wrong'st a gentleman who is as far From thy report as thou from honour; and Solicits here a lady that disdains Thee and the devil alike.- What ho, Pisanio!- The King my father shall be made acquainted Of thy assault. If he shall think it fit A saucy stranger in his court to mart As in a Romish stew, and to expound His beastly mind to us, he hath a court He little cares for, and a daughter who He not respects at all.- What ho, Pisanio! IACHIMO. O happy Leonatus! I may say The credit that thy lady hath of thee Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect goodness Her assur'd credit. Blessed live you long, A lady to the worthiest sir that ever Country call'd his! and you his mistress, only For the most worthiest fit! Give me your pardon. I have spoke this to know if your affiance Were deeply rooted, and shall make your lord That which he is new o'er; and he is one The truest manner'd, such a holy witch That he enchants societies into him, Half all men's hearts are his. IMOGEN. You make amends. IACHIMO. He sits 'mongst men like a descended god: He hath a kind of honour sets him of More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry, Most mighty Princess, that I have adventur'd To try your taking of a false report, which hath Honour'd with confirmation your great judgment In the election of a sir so rare, Which you know cannot err. The love I bear him Made me to fan you thus; but the gods made you, Unlike all others, chaffless. Pray your pardon. IMOGEN. All's well, sir; take my pow'r i' th' court for yours. IACHIMO. My humble thanks. I had almost forgot T' entreat your Grace but in a small request, And yet of moment too, for it concerns Your lord; myself and other noble friends Are partners in the business. IMOGEN. Pray what is't? IACHIMO. Some dozen Romans of us, and your lord- The best feather of our wing- have mingled sums To buy a present for the Emperor; Which I, the factor for the rest, have done In France. 'Tis plate of rare device, and jewels Of rich and exquisite form, their values great; And I am something curious, being strange, To have them in safe stowage. May it please you To take them in protection? IMOGEN. Willingly; And pawn mine honour for their safety. Since My lord hath interest in them, I will keep them In my bedchamber. IACHIMO. They are in a trunk, Attended by my men. I will make bold To send them to you only for this night; I must aboard to-morrow. IMOGEN. O, no, no. IACHIMO. Yes, I beseech; or I shall short my word By length'ning my return. From Gallia I cross'd the seas on purpose and on promise To see your Grace. IMOGEN. I thank you for your pains. But not away to-morrow! IACHIMO. O, I must, madam. Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please To greet your lord with writing, do't to-night. I have outstood my time, which is material 'To th' tender of our present. IMOGEN. I will write. Send your trunk to me; it shall safe be kept And truly yielded you. You're very welcome. Exeunt ACT II. SCENE I. Britain. Before CYMBELINE'S palace Enter CLOTEN and the two LORDS CLOTEN. Was there ever man had such luck! When I kiss'd the jack, upon an up-cast 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. FIRST LORD. What got he by that? You have broke his pate with your bowl. SECOND LORD. [Aside] If his wit had been like him that broke it, it would have run all out. CLOTEN. When a gentleman is dispos'd to swear, it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths. Ha? SECOND LORD. No, my lord; [Aside] nor crop the ears of them. CLOTEN. Whoreson dog! I give him satisfaction? Would he had been one of my rank! SECOND LORD. [Aside] To have smell'd like a fool. CLOTEN. I am not vex'd more at anything in th' 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 jackslave hath his bellyful of fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock that nobody can match. SECOND LORD. [Aside] You are cock and capon too; and you crow, cock, with your comb on. CLOTEN. Sayest thou? SECOND LORD. It is not fit your lordship should undertake every companion that you give offence to. CLOTEN. No, I know that; but it is fit I should commit offence to my inferiors. SECOND LORD. Ay, it is fit for your lordship only. CLOTEN. Why, so I say. FIRST LORD. Did you hear of a stranger that's come to court to-night? CLOTEN. A stranger, and I not known on't? SECOND LORD. [Aside] He's a strange fellow himself, and knows it not. FIRST LORD. There's an Italian come, and, 'tis thought, one of Leonatus' friends. CLOTEN. Leonatus? A banish'd rascal; and he's another, whatsoever he be. Who told you of this stranger? FIRST LORD. One of your lordship's pages. CLOTEN. Is it fit I went to look upon him? Is there no derogation in't? SECOND LORD. You cannot derogate, my lord. CLOTEN. Not easily, I think. SECOND LORD. [Aside] You are a fool granted; therefore your issues, being foolish, do not derogate. CLOTEN. Come, I'll go see this Italian. What I have lost to-day at bowls I'll win to-night of him. Come, go. SECOND LORD. I'll attend your lordship. 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 govern'd, 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 honour, keep unshak'd That temple, thy fair mind, that thou mayst stand T' enjoy thy banish'd lord and this great land! Exit SCENE II. Britain. IMOGEN'S bedchamber in CYMBELINE'S palace; a trunk in one corner Enter IMOGEN in her bed, and a LADY attending IMOGEN. Who's there? My woman? Helen? LADY. Please you, madam. IMOGEN. What hour is it? LADY. Almost midnight, madam. IMOGEN. 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 awake by four o' th' clock, I prithee call me. Sleep hath seiz'd me wholly. Exit LADY To your protection I commend me, gods. From fairies and the tempters of the night Guard me, beseech ye! |
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