Imatges de pàgina
PDF
EPUB

Slaver with lips as common as the stairs

That mount the Capitol; join gripes with hand
Made hard with hourly falfehood, as with labour,
Then glad myself by peeping in an eye,
Bafe and unluftrous as the fmoaky light
That's fed with flinking tallow; it were fit
That all the plagues of hell should at one time
Encounter fuch revolt.

Imo. My Lord, I fear,

Has forgot Britain.

Iach. And himself. Not I,

Inclined to this intelligence, pronounce

The beggary of his change; but 'tis your graces, That from my muteft confcience, to my tongue, Charms this report out.

Imo. Let me hear no more.

Iach. O dearest foul! your caufe doth ftrike my heart With pity, that doth make me fick. A lady So fair, and fastened to an empery,

Would make the greatest king double! to be partWith tomboys, hired with that felf-exhibition [ner'd Which your own coffers yield !---with difeafed venThat play with all infirmities for gold,

[tures, Which rottennefs lends nature! fuch boiled stuff As well might poifon Poifon! Be revenged; Or fhe, that bore you was no Queen, and you Recoil from your great flock.

Imo. Revenged !

How should I be revenged, if this be true?
(As I have fuch a heart, that both mine ears
Muft not in hafte abuse;) if it be true,

How fhall be revenged?

Iach. Should he make me

Live like Diana's priest between cold sheets?
Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps

In your despite, upon your purfe? Revenge it:

I dedicate myself to your fweet pleasure,
More noble than that runagate to your bed;
And will continue faft to your affection,
Still clofe, as fure.

Imo. What ho, Pifanio!

Iach. Let me my service tender on your lips.
Ime. 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 fuch an end thou feek'ft; as base, as ftrange:
Thou wrong'ft a gentleman, who is as far
From thy report, as thou from honour; and
Solicit❜ft here a lady, that disdains

Thee and the devil alike. What, ho, Pifanio!
The King my father fhall be made acquainted
Of thy affault: if he fhall think it fit,
A faucy ftranger in his court to mart
As in a Romifh stew, and to expound
His beaftly mind to us; he hath a court
He little cares for, and a daughter whom
He not refpects at all. What, ho, Pifanio!
lach. O happy Leonatus, I may fay;
The credit that thy Lady hath of thee
Deferves thy truft, and thy most perfect goodness
Her affured credit! bleffed live you long,

A Lady to the worthieft Sir that ever

Country called his! and you his mistress, only
For the moft worthieft fit! Give me your pardon.
I have spoke this, to know if your affiance
Were deeply rooted; and fhall make your Lord,
That which he is, new o'er: and he is one
The trucft mannered, fuch a holy witch,
That he enchants focieties unto him:
Half all men's hearts are his.

Imo. You make amends.

Iach. He fits 'mongst men, like a defcended god;

He hath a kind of honour fets him off,
More than a mortal feeming. Be not angry,
Moft mighty Princess, that I have adventured
To try your taking of a falfe report; which hath
Honoured with confirmation your great judgment,
In the election of a Sir fo 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, chafllefs. Pray, your pardon.
Imo. All's well, Sir; take my power i' th' court
for yours.

Iach. My humble thanks. I had almost forgot T'intreat your Grace but in a fiall request,

And yet of moment too, for it concerns

Your Lord: myself, and other noble friends
Are partners in this bufinefs.

Imo. Pray, what is't?

lach. Some dozen Romans of us, and your Lord, (Beft feather of our wing) have mingled fùms To buy a prefent for the Emperor:

Which I, the factor of the reft, have done
In France; 'tis plate of rare device, and jewels
Of rich and exquifite form, their values great;
And I am fomething curious, being strange,
To have them in fafe ftowage; may it please you
To take them in protection?

Imo. Willingly;

And pawn mine honour for their fafety. Since My Lord hath intereft in them, I will keep them In my bed-chamber.

lach. They are in a trunk,

Attended by my men: I will make bold
To fend them to you, only for this night;

I muft aboard to-morrow.

Ims. O no, no.

Iach. Yes, I befeech you: or I fhall fhort my word, VOL. X.

U

By lengthening my return. From Gallia
I crotfed the feas on purpofe, and on promife
To fee your Grace.

Imo. I thank you for your pains;
But not away to-morrow!

Iach. O, 1 muft, Madam.

Therefore I fhall befeech 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 prefent.

Imo. I will write :

Send your trunk to me, it shall safe be kept,
And truly yielded you. You're very welcome.

[Exeunt.

A C T II.

SCENE, Cymbeline's Palace.

Enter CLOTEN, and two Lords.

CLOTEN.

WAs there ever man had fuch luck! when I kifs'd the Jack upon an up-caft, to be hit away! I had an hundred pound on't; and then a whorefon jackanapes muft take me up for fwearing, as if I borrowed mine oaths of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure.

his

1 Lord. What got he by that? you have broke pate with your bowl.

I Lord. If his wit had been like him that broke it, it would have run all out.

[Afide. Clot. When a gentleman is difpofed to fwear, it is not for any ftanders-by to curtail his oaths. Ha?

2 Lord. No, my Lord; nor crop the ears of them. [Afide. Glot. Whorefon dog! I give him fatisfaction? 'would he had been one of my rank.

2 Lord. To have fmelt like a fool.- [Afide, Clot. I am not vext more at any thing in the earth,- a pox on't! I had rather not be fo noble as I am; they dare not fight with me, because of the Queen my mother; every Jack-flave hath his belly full of fighting, and i muft go up and downs like a cock that no body can match.

2 Lord. You are a cock and a capon too; and you crow, cock, with your comb on. Clot Sayeft thou?

[Afide.

2 Lord. It is not fit your Lordship fhould under-take every companion that you give offence to. Clot. No, I know that; but it is fit I fhould commit offence to my inferiors.

2 Lord. Ay, it is fit for your Lordship only.--Clot. Why, fo I fay.

1 Lord. Did you hear of a stranger that's come to court to-night?

Clot. A ftranger, and I know not on't?

2 Lord. He is a ftrange fellow himself, and knows it not. [Afide. 1 Lord. There's an Italian come, and 'tis thought, one of Leonatus' friends.

Clot. Leonatus! a banished rafcal; and he's another, whatfoever he be. Who told you of this ftranger?

Lord. One of your Lordship's pages.

Clot. Is it fit I went to look upon him? is there no derogation in't?

I Lord. You cannot derogate, my Lord.
Clot. Not eafily, I think.

« AnteriorContinua »