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SCEN E changes to a magnificent Bed-chamber;
in one part of it, a large trunk. Imogen is discover'd reading in ber bed, a Lady attending.
7H O's there ? my woman Helen?
Imo. W Lady. Please you, Madam
Imo. What hour is it?
Imo. I have read three hours then, mine eyes are weak,
[Exit Lady To your protection I commend me, Gods ; From Fairies, and the Tempters of the night, Guard me, 'beseech ye.
[Sleeps. [Tachimo rises from the trunk. Iach. The crickets fing, and man's o'er-labour'd sense Repairs itself by reft : our Tarquin thus Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken'd The chaitity he wounded.' Cytherea, How bravely thou becom'it thy bed! fresh lilly, And whiter than the sheets ! that I might touch, But kiss, one kiss- -rubies unparagon'd, How dearly they do't! --'tis her breathing, that Perfumes the chamber thus : the flame o'th' taper Bows tow'rd her, and would under- peep
her lids, To see th' inclosed light, now canopy'd Under these windows : white and azure, lac'd With blue of heav'n's own tinct.- But my design's To note the chamber-I will write all down, Such, and such, pictures--there, the window,-fuch Th’ adornment of her bed the arras, figures Why, such, and such-and the contents o'th' story Ah, but some nat’ral notes about her body, Above ten thousand meaner moveables, Would teftily, c'enrich my inventory. Sleep, thou ape of Death, lye dull upon
And be her sense but as a monument,
[Taking off her bracelet.
-I have enough. To th' trunk again, and shut the spring of it. Swift, swift, you Dragons of the night that dawning May bear the raven's eye: I lodge in fear, Though this a heav'nly angel, hell is here. [Clock strikes. One, two, three : time, time!
[Goes into the trunk, the Scene closes. SCEN E changes to another part of the Palace,
facing Imogen's Apartments.
Enter Cloten, and Lords. i Lord. VOUR lordship is the most patient man in
loss, the coldeit that ever turn'd up ace. Clot. It would make any man cold to lose.
i 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 : IFE could get this foolith Imogen, I should have gold enough: It's almost morning, is't not?
i Lord. Day, my lord.
Clot. I would, this musick would come : I am advis'd. to give her musick o'mornings ; they say, it will penetrate..
Enter Musicians. Come on, tune ; if you can penetrate her with your fingering, so; we'll try with tongue too; if none will do, let her remain: but I'll never give o'er. First, a very excellent good conceited thing; after, a wonderful sweet air with admirable rich words to it; and then let her confider.
And Phoebus 'gins arise,
On chalic'd flowers that lyes :
To ope their golden eyes ;
Arise, arise. So, get you gone if this penetrate, I will confider your musick the better: if it do not, it is a vice in her ears, which horse-hairs, and cats'-guts, nor the voice of unpav'd eunuch to boot, can never amend.
[Exeunt Maficians. Enter Queen and Cymbeline. 2 Lord. Here comes the King.
Clot. I am glad I was up so late, for that's the reason I was up so early : he cannot chufe but take this service I have done, fatherly. Good morrow to your Majesty, and to my gracious mother.
Cym. Attend you here the door of our ftern daughter ? Will the not forth?
Clot. I have affail'd her with musicks, but the vouchfafes no notice.
Cym. The exile of her minion is too new; She hath not yet forgot him : some more time Must wear the print of his remembrance out, And then she's yours.
Queen. You are most bound to th' King,
you are senseless. Clot. Senseless ? not fo.
Enter a Messenger.
; The one is Caius Lucius.
Cym. A worthy fellow, Albeit he comes on angry purpose now: But that's no fault of his: we must receive him According to the honour of his sender ; And towards himself, his goodness fore-spent on us, We must extend our notice : -Our dear son, When you have giv'n good morning to your mistress, Attend the Queen and us; we shall have need Temploy you towards this Roman. Come, our Queen.
Exeunt. Clot. If she be up, I'll speak with her ; if not, Let her lye still, and dream. By your leave, ho !
[Knacks. I know, her women are about her what, If I do line one of their hands ? Which buys admittance, (oft it doth,) yea, makes Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up Their deer to th' stand o'th' stealer: and 'tis gold, Which makes the true man kill'd, and saves the thief ; Nay, sometimes, hangs both thief and true-man: what. Can it not do, and undo? I will make One of her women lawyer to me, for I yet not understand the case myself. By your leave.
Enter a Lady.
Lady. That's more
Clot. Your lady's person ; is the ready?
Lady. How, my good name? or to report of you
Enter Imogen. Clot. Good morrow, faireft : fister, your sweet hand.
Imo. Good morrow, Sir; you lay out too much pains For purchasing but trouble ; the thanks I give, Is telling you that I am poor of thanks, And scarce can spare them.
Clot. Still, I swear, I love you.
Imo. If you but said so, 'twere as deep with me ::
Clot. This is no answer.
Imo. But that you shall not say I yield, being filent,
: one of your great knowing Should learn (being taught) forbearance. Clot. To leave you in your madness, 'twere my fio;
(8) I will not.
(). To leave you in your Madness, 't were my Sing.
I will not.