I must a board to-morrow. Imo. O no, no. Iach. Yes, I befeech you: or I fhall fhort my word, By lengh'ning my return. From Gallia, I croft the feas on purpose, and on promife To fee your Grace. Imo. I thank you for your pains; But not away to morrow? Iach. O, I must, Madam. Therefore I fhall befeech you, if you please Imo. I will write: Send your trunk to me, it shall safe be kept, [Exe. A CT II. SCENE, Cymbeline's Palace. W Enter Cloten, and two Lords. CLOTEN. AS there ever man had fuch fuck! 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 jack-anapes must take me up for fwearing, as if I borrowed mine oaths of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure. 1 Lord. What got he by that? you have broke his pate with bowl. your [Afide. 2 Lord. If his wit had been like him that broke it, it would have run all out. Clot. When a gentleman is difpos'd to fwear, it is not ftanders-by to curtail his oaths. Ha? K 5 for any 2 Lord. z Lord. No, my Lord; nor crop the ears of them. [Afide. Clot. 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 must go up and down 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. [Afide. Clot. Say't thou? 2 Lord. It is not fit your Lordfhip should undertake every companion, that you give offence to. Clot. No, I know that; but it is fit I should 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 comes to court to-night? not. Clot. A ftranger, and I know not on't? 2 Lord. He's ftrange fellow himself, and knows it [Afide. I Lord. There's an Italian come, and, 'tis thought, one of Leonatus's friends. Clot. Leonatus! a banifh'd rafcal; and he's another, whatsoever he be. Who told you of this stranger? 1 Lord. One of your Lordship's pages. Clot. Is it fit I went to look upon him? is there no derogation in't? 2 Lord. You cannot derogate, my Lord. Clot. Not eafily, I think. 2 Lord. You are a fool granted, therefore your issues being foolish do not derogate. [Afide. Clot. Come, I'll go fee this Italian: what I have loft to-day at bowls, I'll win to-night of him. Come ; go. 2 Lord. I'll attend your lordship. [Exit Clot. That That fuch a crafty devil, as his mother, -a woman, that Of the divorce he'd make.- -The heav'ns hold firm (7) More hateful than the foul Expulfion is Of thy dear Husband, than that horrid At [Exeunt. What perpetual proofs occur of thefe Editors' ftupid Indolence! They cannot afford even to add, or tranfpofe, a Stop, tho' the Senfe be never fo much concerned in it. How would Cloten's Sollicitations, if I might ask these wife Gentlemen, make the Heavens keep firm Imogen's Honour? Would the Speaker imply, that this Wooer was fo hateful, worthless, a Creature, the Heavens would purpofely keep her honeft in Contempt of him? The Author meant no fuch abfurd Stuff. I dare be pofitive, I have reformed his Pointing, and by that retrieved his true Senfe. "This Wooer, fays the "Speaker, is more hateful to her than the Banishment of her Lord; << or the horrid Attempt of making that Banishment perpetual, by "his marrying her in her Lord's abfence.' Having made this Reflexion, he fubjoins a virtuous Wish, that Heaven may preferve her Honour unblemished, and her to enjoy her Husband back, and her Rights in the Kingdom. SCENE SCENE changes to a magnificent Bed-chamber; in one part of it, a large trunk. Imogen is difcover'd reading in her bed, a Lady attending. HO's there? my woman Helen? Ime. W Lady. Please you, Madam Imo. What hour is it? Lady. Almoft midnight, Madam. Imo. I have read three hours then, mine eyes are weak, Fold down the leaf where I have left; to bedTake not away the taper, leave it burning: And if thou canst awake by four o'th' clock, I pr'ythee, call me-fleep hath feiz'd me wholly. [Exit Lady. To your protection I commend me, Gods; [Sleeps. [Iachimo rifes from the trunk. lach. The crickets fing, and man's o'er-labour'd fenfe Repairs itself by reft: our Tarquin thus Did foftly prefs the rushes, ere he waken'd 'The chastity he wounded. Cytherea, How bravely thou becom'ft thy bed! fresh lily, How dearly they do't!-'tis her breathing, that O Sleep, thou ape of Death, lie dull upon her! And be her fenfe but as a monument, Though this a heav'nly angel, hell is here. [Clock ftrikes. [Goes into the trunk, the Scene closes. SCENE changes to another part of the Palace, facing Imogen's Apartments. Lord. Y Enter Cloten, and Lords. OUR Lordship is the most patient man in lofs, the coldest that ever turn'd up ace. Clot. It would make any man cold to lose. 1 Lord. But not every man patient, after the noble temper of your lordship; you are most hot, and furious, when you win. Clot. Winning will put any man into courage: If I could get this foolish Imogen, I fhould have gold enough: It's almoft morning, is't not? I Lord. Day, my Lord. Chat. I would, this mufick would come: I am advis'd to give her mufick o' mornings; they fay, it will penetrate. Enter |