Imo. What, dear fir,

Thus raps you? Are you well?

Iach. Thanks, madam; well:-'Beseech you, fir,

[To Pifanio.

'Defire my man's abode where I did leave him :

Imo. Continues well my lord? His health, 'befeech you?

Iach. Well, madam.

Imo. Is he difpos'd to mirth? I hope he is.

Jach. Exceeding pleasant; none a stranger there

So merry and fo gamefome: he is call'd

The Briton reveller.

Imo. When he was here,

He did incline to sadness; and oft-times

Not knowing why.

Iach. I never faw him fad.

There is a Frenchman his companion, one

An eminent monfieur, that, it feems, much loves

A Gallian girl at home: he furnaces

The thick fighs from him; whiles the jolly Briton (Your lord, I mean) laughs from's free lungs, cries, O! Can my fides bold, to think, that man,-who knows

By history, report, or his own proof,

What woman is, yea, what she cannot chufe

But must be,-will his free hours languish

For affur'd bondage?

Imo. Will my lord fay fo?

Iach. Ay, madam; with his eyes in flood with laughter.

Thus raps you ?]-Tranfports you thus. Defire]-Search out, He's frange, and peevish.]-He's a foreigner, and cafily irritated. be furnaces]-breaths forth, as a furnace doth, fparks and fmokę,

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.

Iach. Not he: But yet heaven's bounty towards him might

Be us'd more thankfully. "In himself, 'tis much;

In you,-which I account his, beyond all talents,-
Whilft I am bound to wonder, I am bound

You look on me; What wreck difcern you in me,
Deferves your pity?

Iach. Lamentable! What!

To hide me from the radiant fun, and folace

I' the dungeon by a fnuff?

Imo. I pray you, fir,

Deliver with more opennefs your answers

To my demands. Why do you pity me?
Iach. That others do,

I was about to fay, enjoy your-But
It is an office of the gods to venge it,
Not mine to fpeak on't.

Imo. You do feem to know

Something of me, or what concerns me; Pray you,
(Since doubting things go ill, often hurts more.
Than to be fure they do: For certainties
Either are past remedies; or, timely known,

In himself, 'tis much ;]-Such a conduct is very extraordinary, when confidered only as proceeding from a man of his rare qualities, but when viewed, as ufed towards you, his mate inestimable, as piteous as 'tis ftrange.

The

The remedy's then born) discover to me "What both you spur and ftop.

Iach. Had I this cheek

To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whose touch
Whose every touch, would force the feeler's foul
To the oath of loyalty; this object, which
Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye,
Fixing it only here: fhould I (damn'd then)
Slaver with lips as common as the stairs

That mount the Capitol; join gripes with hands
Made hard with hourly falfhood (falfhood, as
With labour) then lie peeping in an eye,
Base and unluftrous as the fmoky light
That's fed with ftinking tallow; it were fit,

That all the plagues of hell fhould at one time
Encounter fuch revolt.

Imo. My lord, I fear,

Has forgot Britain.

Iach. And himself. Not I,

Inclin❜d to this intelligence, pronounce

The beggary of his change; but 'tis your graces

That, from my muteft confcience, to my tongue,
Charms this report out.

Imo. Let me hear no more.

Jach. O dearest foul! your caufe doth ftrike

With pity, that doth make me fick. A lady
So fair, and fasten'd to an empery,

my

heart

Would make the greatest king double! to be partner'd With tomboys, hir'd with that self-exhibition

2

What both you Spur and ftop.]-This piece of intelligence, which seem so eager to communicate, and yet withhold; which at once incites you to fpeak, and restrains you from it.

you

* with hourly falfhood ]-with frequent preffure.

* faften'd to an empery,]—allied to a crown.

2 tomboys,]-coarfe trumpets.

a that Jelf-exbibition]-the very penfion you allow him.

Which your own coffers yield! with difeas'd ventures, That play with all infirmities for gold

Which rottennefs can lend nature! fuch boil'd stuff,

As well might poifon poifon! Be reveng'd;
Or fhe, that bore you, was no queen, and you
Recoil from your great stock.

Imo. Reveng'd!

How should I be reveng'd? If this be true,

(As I have fuch a heart, that both mine ears.
Must not in hafte abufe) if it be true,
How should I be reveng❜d?

Jack. Should he make me

Live like Diana's prieft, betwixt cold sheets;
Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps,
In your despite, upon your purse? Revenge it.
I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure;
More noble than that runagate to your
And will continue faft to your affection,
Still close, as fure.

Imo. What ho, Pifanio!

bed;

Iach. Let me my service tender on your lips.
Imo. Away!-I do condemn mine ears, that have
So long attended thee.-If thou wert honourable,
Thou would't have told this tale for virtue, not
For fuch an end thou feek'ft; as bafe, as ftrange.
Thou wrong'ft a gentleman, who is as far
From thy report, as thou from honour; and
Solicit'ft here a lady, that difdains

Thee and the devil alike :-What ho, Pifanio!-
The king my father shall be made acquainted

Of thy affault: if he fhall think it fit,

d

A faucy stranger, in his court, to mart

ventures,]-adventurers, traders.

vaulting variable ramps,]-difporting himself with variety.
to mari]—to traffick.

As

As in a Romish stew, and to expound
His beastly mind to us; he hath a court
He little cares for, and a daughter whom
He not respects at all. What ho, Pifanio!
Iach. O happy Leonatus! I may say;
The credit, that thy lady hath of thee,
Deferves thy truft; and thy most perfect goodness
Her affur'd credit !-Bleffed live you long!
A lady to the worthieft fir, that ever
Country call'd his! and you his mistress, only
For the most worthieft fit! Give me your pardon.
I have spoke this, to know if your affiance

e

Were deeply rooted; and shall make your lord,
That which he is, new o'er: And he is one
The trueft manner'd; fuch a holy witch,
That he enchants focieties unto him:

Half all men's hearts are his.

Imo. You make amends.

Iach. He fits 'mongst men, ' like a descended god:
He hath a kind of honour fets him off,
More than a mortal feeming. Be not angry,
Moft mighty princefs, that I have adventur'd
To try your taking of a false report; which hath
Honour'd with confirmation your great judgment
In the election of a fir fo rare,

Which you know, cannot err: The love I bear him
Made me to fan you thus; but the gods made you,
Unlike all others, chafflefs. Pray, your pardon.

Imo. All's well, fir: Take my power i' the court for

yours.

Iach. My humble thanks. I had almost forgot

fhall make your lord,]-shall now describe him to you anew, in his proper colours.

like a defcended god :]-"like the herald Mercury,

"New-lighted," &c.

HAMLET, A& III. S. 4. Ham.

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