That I mean to thee. Tell thy Mistress how Enter Pifanio, and Ladies. So, fo; well done, well done; The Violets, Cowslips, and the Prim-Roses, Bear to my Closet; fare thee well, Pifanio, Think on my words. Pifa. And shall do: (Exit Pisanio. [Exit Queen and Ladies. [Exit. But when to my good Lord, I prove untrue, I'll choak my self; there's all I'll do for you. Enter Imogen alone. Imo. A Father cruel, and a Stepdame false, As my two Brothers, happy; but most miferable Enter Pisanio, and lachimo. Pis. Madam, a noble Gentleman of Rome, : Imo. Thanks, good Sir, You're kindly welcome. Iach. All of her, that is out of door, most rich! If the be furnish'd with a mind fo rare, She is alone th' Arabian Bird; and I Have lost the Wager. Boldness be my Friend; Rather directly flye. Imogen reads. He is one of the Noblest Note, to whose kindnesses I am most infinitely tyed. Reflect upon him accordingly, as you value your trust. So far I read aloud. But even the very middle of my Heart Leonatus. Is warmed by th' rest, and take it thankfully You are as welcome, worthy Sir, as I Have words to bid you, and shall find it so Iach. Thanks, fairest Lady; Imo. What makes your Admiration? Iach. It cannot be i'th Eye; for Apes, and Monkeys, Twixt two much She's, would chatter this way, and Contemn with mowes the other. Nor i'th judgment; For Ideots in this Cafe of Favour, would Be wisely definit. Nor in the Appetite, Sluttery to fuch neat excellence oppos'd, Should make Defire vomit emptiness, Not so allur'd to feed. Imo. What is the matter trow? That fatiate yet unsatisfy'd Defire, that Tub Longs after for the Garbage Imo. What, dear Sir, Thus raps you? are you well? Iach. Thanks, Madam, well; beseech you, Sir, Defire my Man's abode, where I did leave him; He's strange and peevish. Pis. I was going, Sir, To give him welcome. Imo. Continues well my Lord? His Health, beseech you? Iach. Well, Madam. [To Pifanio. Imo. Is he dispos'd to Mirth? I hope he is. So merry, and so gamesome; he is call'd Imo. When he was here He did incline to sadness, and oft times Iach. I never saw him fad. The thick fides from him; whiles the jolly Britain, By Hiftory, Report, or his own proof What Woman is, yea, what she cannot chuse But must be, will's free Hours languish, For affur'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 Heav'ns know some Men are much to blame. Imo. Not he, I hope. Iach. Not he. But yet Heav'ns Bounty towards him, might Be us'd more thankfully. In himself 'tis much; To pity too, H 3 T Imo. 4 Imo. What do you pity, Sir? Iach. Two Creatures heartily. Imo. Am I one, Sir? You look on me; what wrack difcern you in me Deserves your Pity? Iach. Lamentable! what To hide me from the radiant Sun, and folace Imo. I pray you, Sir, lach. That others do, I was abour to fay, enjoy your It is an Office of the Gods to venge it, Imo. You do seem to know but Something of me, or what concerns me; pray you Iach. Had I this Cheek To bath my Lips upon; this Hand, whose touch, Then glad my self by peeping in an Eye Imo. My Lord, I fear, Has forgot Britain. Iach. And himself; not I Inclin'd to this Intelligence, pronounce That That from my mutest Confcience, to my Tongue, Imo. Let me hear no more. lach. O dearest Soul! your Cause doth strike my Heart With Pity, that doth make me fick. A Lady So fair, and fastned to an Empery, Would make the great'st King double, to be partner'd Which rottenness can lend Nature! Such boyl'd stuff Imo. Reveng'd! How should I be reveng'd if this be true, Iach. Should he make me Live like Diana's Priest, betwixt cold Sheets; In your Despight, upon your Purse; revenge it. Imo. What ho, Pifanio! lach. Let me my Service tender on your Lips. His |