Or that the negligence may well be laugh'd at,

Yet is it true, fir.

2 Gent. I do well believe you.

1 Gent. We must forbear: Here comes the gentleman, The queen, and princefs.

SCENE II,

[Exeunt.

Enter the Queen, Pofthumus, Imogen, and Attendants.

Queen. No, be affur'd, you shall not find me, daughter, After the flander of moft ftep-mothers,

Evil ey'd unto you: you are my prifoner, but
Your gaoler fhall deliver you the keys

That lock up your reftraint. For you, Pofthumus,
So foon as I can win the offended king,

I will be known your advocate: marry, yet
The fire of rage is in him; and 'twere good,
You lean'd unto his fentence, with what patience
Your wifdom may inform you.

Poft. Please your highness,

I will from hence to-day.

Queen, You know the peril :

I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying
The pangs of barr'd affections; though the king
Hath charg'd you should not speak together.

[Exit.

Imo. O diffembling courtefy! How fine this tyrant
Can tickle where she wounds!-My dearest husband,
I something fear my father's wrath; but nothing,
($ Always referv'd my holy duty) what

His rage can do on me: You must be gone;
And I fhall here abide the hourly shot

Of angry eyes; not comforted to live,

( Always referv'd my boly duty)-(As far as I may fay it without breach of duty.)

But

But that there is this jewel in the world,
That I may fee again.

Poft. My queen! my mistress!

0, lady, weep no more; left I give caufe
To be fufpected of more tenderness

Than doth become a man! I will remain
The loyal'ft husband that did e'er plight troth.
My refidence in Rome, at one Philario's ;
Who to my father was a friend, to me
Known but by letter: thither write, my queen,
And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you fend,
Though ink be made of gall.

Re-enter Queen.

Queen. Be brief, I pray you:

If the king come, I fhall incur I know not

How much of his difpleafure :-Yet I'll move him

[Afide.

To walk this way: I never do him wrong,

But he does buy my injuries, to be friends;
Pays dear for my offences.

[Exit.

grow: Adieu!

Poft. Should we be taking leave

As long a term as yet we have to live,

The lothness to depart would

Imo. Nay, ftay a little:

Were

you but riding forth to air yourself,

Such parting were too petty. Look here, love;
This diamond was my mother's: take it, heart;
But keep it 'till you woo another wife,

When Imogen is dead.

Poft. How! how! another?

You gentle gods, give me but this I have,

And fear up my embracements from a next

Sear]-clofe,

With

With bonds of death!-Remain, remain thou here

[Putting on the ring.

While, fenfe can keep in on! And fweeteft, faireft,
As I my poor felf did exchange for you,

To your fo infinite lofs; fo, in our trifles
I still win of you: For my fake, wear this;
It is a manacle of love; I'll place it

Cym. Thou bafeft thing, avoid! hence, from my fight! If, after this command, thou fraught the court

With thy unworthiness, thou dy'ft: Away!
Thou art poifon to my blood.

Poft. The gods protect you !

And bless the good remainders of the court!
I am gone.

Io. There cannot be a pinch in death
More sharp than this is.

Cym. O difloyal thing,

That should'st repair my youth; thou heapest

A year's age on me!

Imo. I beseech you, fir,

Harm not yourself with your vexation; I

Am fenfelefs of your wrath;

Subdues all pangs, all fears.

i Years, ages on me.

k

a touch more rare

k a touch more rare]—a more exquifite fenfation, a nobler paffion.

TEMPEST, Vol. I. p. 70. Pro.

"with more urgent touches."
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA, A& I. S. 2. Ant:
Cym.

Cym. Paft grace? obedience?

Imo. Paft hope, and in defpair; that way, paft grace. Cym. That might'st have had the fole fon of my queen! Imo. O bleft, that I might not! I chose an eagle, And did avoid a puttock.

Cym. Thou took'ft a beggar; would'st have made my throne

A feat for baseness.

Imo. No; I rather added

A luftre to it.

Cym. O thou vile one!

Imo. Sir,

It is your fault that I have lov'd Pofthumus:
You bred him as my play-fellow; and he is
A man, worth any woman; over-buys me
Almoft the fum he pays.

Cym. What!-art thou mad?

Imo. Almoft, fir: Heaven restore me!-'Would I were A neat-herd's daughter! and my Leonatus

Our neighbour shepherd's fon!

Re-enter Queen.

Cym. Thou foolish thing!

They were again together: you have done

Not after our command. Away with her,

And pen

her up.

Queen. Befeech your patience:- Peace,

Dear lady daughter, peace ;-Sweet fovereign,

Leave us to ourselves; and make yourself some comfort Out of your best advice.

1a puttock.]-a kite.

count.

Almoft the fum he pays.]-By almoft every pang he feels on my ac

Cym.

Cym. Nay, let her languish

A drop of blood a day; and, being aged,

Die of this folly!

Enter Pifanio.

[Exit.

Queen. Fie!-you must give way:

Here is your fervant.-How now, fir? What news?
Pif. My lord your fon drew on my master.
Queen. Ha!

No harm, I trust, is done?

Pif. There might have been,

But that my master rather play'd than fought,
And had no help of anger: they were parted
By gentlemen at hand.

Queen. I am very glad on't.

Imo. Your fon's my father's friend, he takes his
To draw upon an exile !-O brave fir!-
I would they were in Africk both together;
Myfelf by with a needle, that I might prick

part.

The goer back. Why came you from your master?
Pif. On his command: He would not suffer me
To bring him to the haven: left these notes
Of what commands I fhould be fubject to,

When it pleas'd you to employ me.

Queen. This hath been

Your faithful fervant: I dare lay mine honour,

He will remain fo.

Pif. I humbly thank your highness.

Queen. Pray, walk a while.

Imo. About fome half hour hence, pray you, speak

with me:

You fhall, at least, go fee

my lord aboard:

For this time, leave me,

[Exeunt.

SCENE