SCENE V.-Rome. An Apartment in PHILARIO's House.

Enter PHILARIO, IACHIMO, a Frenchman, a

Dutchman, and a Spaniard.

Iach. Believe it, sir. I have seen him in Britain: he was then of a crescent note; expected to prove so worthy as since he hath been allowed the name of: but I could then have looked on him without the help of admiration, though the catalogue of his endowments had been tabled by his side, and I to peruse him by items.

Phi. You speak of him when he was less furnished than now he is with that which makes him, both without and within.

French. I have seen him in France: we had very many there could behold the sun with as firm eyes as he.

Iach. This matter of marrying his king's daughter (wherein he must be weighed rather by her value than his own), words him, I doubt not, a great deal from the matter.

French. And then his banishment :

Iach. Ay, and the approbation of those that weep this lamentable divorce under her colours, are wonderfully to extend him; be it but to fortify her judgment, which else an easy battery might lay flat, for taking a beggar without more quality. But how comes it he is to sojourn with you? how creeps acquaintance?

Phi. His father and I were soldiers together; to whom I have been often bound for no less than my life.

Enter POSTHUMUS.

Here comes the Briton: let him be so entertained amongst you as suits, with gentlemen of your knowing, to a stranger of his quality.—I beseech you all, be better known to this gentleman; whom I commend to you, as a noble friend of mine: how worthy he is I will leave to appear hereafter, rather than story him in his own hearing.

French. Sir, we have known together in Orleans.

Post. Since when I have been debtor to you for courtesies which I will be ever to pay, and yet pay still.

French. Sir, you o'errate my poor kindness. I was glad I did atone my countryman and you; it had been pity you should have been put together with so mortal a purpose as then each bore, upon importance of so slight and trivial a

nature.

Post. By your pardon, sir, I was then a young traveller; rather shunned to go even with what I heard, than in my every action to be guided

by others' experiences: but, upon my mended judgment (if I offend not to say it is mended), my quarrel was not altogether slight.

French. 'Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitrement of swords; and by such two that would, by all likelihood, have confounded one the other, or have fallen both.

Iach. Can we, with manners, ask what was the difference?

French. Safely, I think: 't was a contention in public, which may, without contradiction, suffer the report. It was much like an argument that fell out last night, where each of us fell in praise of our country mistresses: this gentleman at that time vouching (and upon warrant of bloody affirmation) his to be more fair, virtuous, wise, chaste, constant-qualified, and less attemptible, than any the rarest of our ladies in France.

Iach. That lady is not now living; or this gentleman's opinion, by this, worn out.

Post. She holds her virtue still, and I my mind. Iach. You must not so far prefer her 'fore ours of Italy.

Post. Being so far provoked as I was in France, I would abate her nothing; though I profess myself her adorer, not her friend.

Iach. As fair and as good (a kind of hand-inhand comparison), had been something too fair and too good for any lady in Britany. If she went before others I have seen, as that diamond of yours out-lustres many I have beheld, I could not but believe she excelled many: but I have not seen the most precious diamond that is, nor you the lady.

Post. I praised her as I rated her so do I my stone.

Iach. What do you esteem it at?

Post. More than the world enjoys. Iach. Either your unparagoned mistress is dead, or she's outprized by a trifle.

Post. You are mistaken: the one may be sold or given, if there were wealth enough for the purchase, or merit for the gift: the other is not a thing for sale, and only the gift of the gods. Iach. Which the gods have given you? Post. Which, by their graces, I will keep.

Iach. You may wear her in title yours; but you know strange fowl light upon neighbouring ponds your ring may be stolen too:-so, of your brace of unprizeable estimations, the one is but frail, and the other casual; a cunning thief, or a that-way-accomplished courtier, would hazard the winning both of first and last.

Post. Your Italy contains none so accomplished a courtier, to convince the honour of my mistress; if in the holding or loss of that, you term her frail. I do nothing doubt you have

Post. A repulse:-though your attempt, as you call it, deserves more; a punishment too.

Phi. Gentlemen, enough of this; it came in too suddenly; let it die as it was born, and I pray you be better acquainted.

Iach. 'Would I had put my estate, and my neighbour's, on the approbation of what I have spoke.

Post. What lady would you choose to assail? Iach. Yours; whom in constancy you think stands so safe. I will lay you ten thousand ducats to your ring, that, commend me to the court where your lady is, with no more advantage than the opportunity of a second conference, and I will bring from thence that honour of hers which you imagine so reserved.

Post. I will wage against your gold, gold to it: my ring I hold as dear as my finger; 'tis part of it.

Iach. You are a friend, and therein the wiser. If you buy ladies' flesh at a million a dram, you cannot preserve it from tainting: but I see you have some religion in you, that you fear.

Post. This is but a custom in your tongue; you bear a graver purpose, I hope.

Iach. I am the master of my speeches; and would undergo what's spoken, I swear.

Post. Will you?—I shall but lend my diamond till your return.-Let there be covenants drawn between us. My mistress exceeds in goodness the hugeness of your unworthy thinking. I dare you to this match: here's my ring.

Phi. I will have it no lay.

Iach. By the gods it is one.-) -If I bring you no sufficient testimony that I have enjoyed the dearest bodily part of your mistress, my ten thou

Enter QUEEN, Ladies, and CORNELIUS. Queen. Whiles yet the dew's on ground, gather those flowers:

Make haste: who has the note of them?
1st Lady.
I, madam.
Queen. Despatch.-

[Exeunt Ladies. Now, master doctor, have you brought those drugs?

Cor. Pleaseth your highness, ay: here they are, madam: [Presenting a small box. But I beseech your grace (without offence; My conscience bids me ask), wherefore you have Commanded of me these most poisonous com

pounds,

Which are the movers of a languishing death;
But, though slow, deadly?
Queen. I wonder, doctor,
Thou ask'st me such a question. Have I not been
Thy pupil long? hast thou not learned me how
To make perfumes; distil; preserve? yea, so
That our great king himself doth woo me oft
For my confections? Having thus far proceeded
(Unless thou think'st me devilish), is 't not meet
That I did amplify my judgment in
Other conclusions? I will try the forces
Of these thy compounds on such creatures as
We count not worth the hanging (but none

human),

But

Cor.

[Aside.

I do suspect you, madam; you shall do no harm. Queen. Hark thee, a word. [To PISANIO. Cor. [aside]. I do not like her. She doth think she has

Strange lingering poisons: I do know her spirit,
And will not trust one of her malice with
A drug of such damned nature: those she has
Will stupify and dull the sense awhile:
Which first, perchance, she'll prove on cats and
dogs;

Then afterward up higher; but there is
No danger in what show of death it makes,
More than the locking up the spirits a time,
To be more fresh, reviving. She is fooled
With a most false effect; and I the truer,
So to be false with her.

Until I send for thee.

[Exit.

Cor.
I humbly take my leave.
Queen. Weeps she still, say'st thou? Dost thou
think in time

She will not quench, and let instructions enter
Where folly now possesses? Do thou work:
When thou shalt bring me word she loves my son,
I'll tell thee, on the instant, thou art then
As great as is thy master: greater; for
His fortunes all lie speechless, and his name
Is at last gasp. Return he cannot, nor
Continue where he is: to shift his being,
Is to exchange one misery with another;
And every day that comes, comes to decay
A day's work in him. What shalt thou expect,
To be depender on a thing that leans?
Who cannot be new built, nor has no friends,
[The QUEEN drops a box: PISANIO takes it up.
So much as but to prop him?—Thou tak'st up
Thou know'st not what; but take it for thy labour:
It is a thing I made, which hath the king
Five times redeemed from death: I do not know
What is more cordial.-Nay, I pr'y thee take it;
It is an earnest of a further good

That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how
The case stands with her; do 't as from thyself.
Think what a chance thou changest on; but think
Thou hast thy mistress still; to boot, my son,
Who shall take notice of thee. I'll move the king
To any shape of thy preferment, such

As thou 'lt desire; and then myself, I chiefly,
That set thee on to this desert,-am bound
To load thy merit richly. Call my women:
Think on my words. [Exit PISANIO.]—A sly and
constant knave;

Not to be shaked: the agent for his master;
And the remembrancer of her, to hold
The hand fast to her lord. I have given him that,
Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her
Of liegers for her sweet; and which she, after,
Except she bend her humour, shall be assured

Re-enter PISANIO and Ladies.

To taste of too. So, so; well done, well done :
The violets, cowslips, and the primroses,
Bear to my closet.-Fare thee well, Pisanio;
Think on my words. [Exeunt QUEEN and Ladies.
Pisa.
And shall do:

But when to my good lord I prove untrue,
I'll choke myself: there's all I'll do for you. [Exit.

SCENE VII.-Another Room in the same.

Enter IMOGEN.

Imo. A father cruel, and a stepdame false; A foolish suitor to a wedded lady,

That hath her husband banished.-O that husband!
My súpreme crown of grief! and those repeated
Vexations of it! Had I been thief-stolen,
As my two brothers, happy! but most miserable
Is the desire that's glorious. Blessed be those,
How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills,
Which seasons comfort.-Who may this be? Fie!

Enter PISANIO and IACHIMO.

Pisa. Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome; Comes from my lord with letters. Iach. Change you, madam? The worthy Leonatus is in safety, And greets your highness dearly.

[Presents a letter.

Imo. Thanks, good sir: You are kindly welcome. Iach. All of her that is out of door, most rich!

[Aside.

If she be furnished with a mind so rare,
She is alone the Arabian bird; and I
Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend!
Arm me, audacity, from head to foot!

and

"Twixt two such shes, would chatter this way, Contemn with mows the other: nor i'the judgment;

For idiots, in this case of favour, would
Be wisely definite: nor i' the appetite;
Sluttery, to such neat excellence opposed,
Should make desire vomit emptiness,
Not so allured to feed.

Imo. What is the matter, trow?
Iach. The cloyed will

(That satiate yet unsatisfied desire,

That tub both filled and running), ravening first The lamb, longs after for the garbage.

There is a Frenchman his companion, one
An eminent monsieur, that, it seems, much loves
A Gallian girl at home; he furnaces

The thick sighs from him; whiles the jolly Briton (Your lord, I mean) laughs from 's free lungs, cries "O!

Can my sides hold, to think that man,-who knows
By history, report, or his own proof,
What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose
But must be,—will his free hours languish for
Assuréd 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, heavens know

Some men are much to blame.

Imo. Not he, I hope,

Deliver with more openness your answers
To my demands. Why do you pity me?
Jach. That others do,

I was about to say, enjoy your-But

It is an office of the gods to venge it,
Not mine to speak on 't.

Imo. You do seem to know
Something of me, or what concerns me. Pray you
(Since doubting things go ill, often hurts more
Than to be sure they do: for certainties
Either are past remedies; or, timely knowing,
The remedy then born), discover to me
What both you spur
and stop.

To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whose touch,
Whose every touch, would force the feeler's soul
To the oath of loyalty; this object, which
Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye,
Fixing it only here: should I (damned then!)
Slaver with lips as common as the stairs
That mount the Capitol; join gripes with hands
Made hard with hourly falsehood (falsehood as
With labour); then lie peeping in an eye