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Unlike all others, chaffless. 'Pray, your pardon. Imog. All's well, sir: Take my pow'r i'the court
for yours. Iach. My humble thanks.--I had almost forgot, To entreat your grace but in a small request, And yet of moment too, for it concerns Your lord; myself, and other noble friends, Are partners in the business.
Imog. Pray, what is't?
Iach. Some dozen Romans of us, and your lord,
Iach. They are in a trunk,
Imog. O no, no.
Iach. Yes, I beseech, or I shall short my word, By length'ning my return. From Gallia I cross'd the seas on purpose, and on promise To see your grace.
Imog. I thank you for your pains ; But not away to-morrow?
Iach. O, I must, madam :
Imog. I will write. Send
your trunk to me; it shall be safe kept, And truly yielded you: You are very welcome.
Enter Cloten and Two LORDS.
Cloten. Was there ever man had such luck! when I kiss'd the jack upon an up-cast, to be hit away! I had an hundred pound on't: and then a whoreson jackanapes must take me up for swearing; as if I borrowed my oaths of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure.
1 Lord. What got he by that? You have broke his pate with
2 Lord. [Aside.] If his wit had been like him that broke it, it would have run all out.
Cloten. When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths : Ha? 2 Lord. No, my lord :—nor crop the ears of them.
[Aside. Cloten. Whoreson dog !- I give him satisfaction? 'Would he had been one of my rank ! A plague on't! I had rather not be so noble as I am; they dare not fight with me, because of the queen, my mother: every jack-slave hath his belly full of fighting, and I must go up and down, like a cock that no body can match.
1 Lord. It is not fit, your lordship should undertake every companion that you give offence to.
Cloten. 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.
Enter Cymbeline and Queen.
mother. Cym. Attend you here the door of our stern daugh
ter ? Will she not forth?
Cloten. She vouchsafes no notice; but I will assail her before morning with mask and music.
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. Enter Messenger, and whispers the First Lord.
Queen. You are most bound to the king, Who lets go by no 'vantages, that
may Prefer you to his daughter.
1 Lord. So like you, sir, ambassadors from Rome; The one is Caius Lucius.
Cym. A worthy fellow, Albeit he comes on angry purpose now; But that's no fault of his :—Our dear son, When you have given good morning to your mistress, Attend the Queen and us, we shall have need Temploy you towards this Roman. Betimes to-morrow we'll hear th'embassy. Come, madam. [Exeunt Cymbeline and Queen.
1 Lord. Did you hear of another stranger, that's come to court to-night?
Cloten. Another stranger, and I not know on't?
2 Lord. He's a strange fellow himself, and knows it not.
1 Lord. There's an Italian come, and 'tis thought, one of Leonatus' friends.
Cloten. Leonatus ! A banished rascal; and he's another, whatsoever he be. Who told you of this stranger ?
1 Lord. One of your lordship's pages.
Cloten. Is it fit, I went to look upon him? Is there no derogation in it?
2 Lord. You cannot derogate, my lord.
Cloten. Not easily, I think. Come, I'll go see this Italian; and if he'll play, I'll game with him; and to-morrow, with our Father, we'll hear the ambassador --Come, let's go. 1 Lord. I attend your lordship.
A Bed-chamber.—In one part of it a Trunk.
Imogen reading in her Bed.--Helen attending.
IACHIMO comes out of the Trunk. Iach. The crickets sing, and man's o'erlabour'd Repairs itself by rest : Our Tarquin thus Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken'd The chastity he wounded.—Cytherea, How bravely thou becom'st thy bed! fresh lily! And whiter than the sheets ! That I might touch! But kiss; one kiss ! Tis her breathing that Perfumes the chamber thus: The flame o' the taper Bows towards her; and would under-peep her lids, To see the enclosed lights, now canopy'd Under these windows : White and azure, lac'd With blue of heaven's own tinct. But my design? To note the chamber :—I will write all down :Such, and such, pictures :- There the window:
such The adornment of her bed ;-—The arras, figures, Why, such, and such :- And the contents o' the
[Taking off her Bracelet. As slippery, as the Gordion knot was hard ! Tis mine; and this will witness outwardly, As strongly as the conscience does within, To the madding of her. lord. On her left breast A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops I' the bottom of a cowslip: Here's a voucher, Stronger than ever law could make. To what end? Why should I write this down, that's riveted,