By length'ning my return. From Gallia

I cross'd the seas on purpose, and on promise

To see your grace.

Imo.

I thank you for your pains;

But not away to-morrow?

Iach.
O, I must, madam;
Therefore, I shall beseech you, if you please
To greet your lord with writing, do't to-night:
I have outstood my time; which is material
To the tender of our present.

Imo.
I will write.
Send your trunk to me; it shall safe be kept,
And truly yielded you: You are very welcome.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I Court before Cymbeline's palace.

Enter Cloten, and two Lords.

Clo. Was there ever man had such luck! when I kissed the jack upon an up-cast*, to be hit away! I had a hundred pound on't: And then a whoreson jackanapes must take me up for swearing; as if I borrowed mine oaths of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure.

1 Lord. What got he by that? You have broke his pate with your bowl.

2 Lord. If his wit had been like him that broke it, it would have run all out. [Aside.

.

Clo. 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 [Aside.] crop the ears of them.

* He is describing his fate at bowls; the jack is the small bowl at which the others are aimed.

Clo. Whoreson dog!-I give him satisfaction? 'Would, he had been one of my rank!

2 Lord. To have smelt like a fool.

[Aside.

Clo. I am not more vexed at any thing in the earth,-A pox 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 nobody can match.

2 Lord. You are a cock and capon too; and you crow, cock, with your comb on. [Aside.

Clo. Sayest thou?

1 Lord. It is not fit, your lordship should undertake every companion that you give offence to.

Clo. 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. Clo. Why, so I say.

1 Lord. Did you hear of a stranger, that's come to court to-night?

Clo. A stranger! and I not know on't!

2 Lord. He's a strange fellow himself, and knows it not. [Aside. 1 Lord. There's an Italian come; and, 'tis thought, one of Leonatus' friends.

Clo. 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.

Clo. Is it fit I went to look upon him? Is there no derogation in't?

1 Lord. You cannot derogatet, my lord. Clo. Not easily, I think.

2 Lord. You are a fool granted; therefore your u es being foolish, do not derogate.

[Aside. Clo. Come, I'll go see this Italian: What I have lost to-day at bowls, I'll win to-night of him. Come, go. 2 Lord. I'll attend your lordship.

[Exeunt Cloten and first Lord.

• Fellow.

ti. e. Degrade yourself.

That such a crafty devil as is his mother
Should yield the world this ass! a woman, that
Bears all down with her brain; and this her son
Cannot take two from twenty for his heart,
And leave eighteen. Alas, poor princess,
Thou divine Imogen, what thou endur'st!
Betwixt a father by thy step-dame govern'd;
A mother hourly coining plots; a wooer,
More hateful than the foul expulsion is

Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act
Of the divorce he'd make! The heavens hold firm
The walls of thy dear honour; keep unshak'd
That temple, thy fair mind; that thou may'st stand,
To enjoy thy banish'd lord, and this great land!
[Exit.

SCENE II.

A bed-chamber; in one part of it a trunk.

Imogen reading in her bed; a Lady attending.

Imo. Who's there? my woman Helen?

Lady.

Imo. What hour is it?

Lady.

Please you, madam.

Almost midnight, madam.

Imo. I have read three hours then: mine eyes are

weak :

Fold down the leaf where I have left: To bed:

Take not away the taper, leave it burning;

And if thou canst awake by four o'the clock,

I pr'ythee, call me. Sleep hath seiz'd me wholly.

[Exit Lady.

To your protection I commend me, gods!
From fairies, and the tempters of the night,
Guard me, beseech ye!

[Sleeps. Iachimo, from the trunk.

Iach. The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd

sense

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!- Rubies unparagon'd,
How dearly they do't!"Tis her breathing that
Perfumes the chamber thus: The flame o'the taper
Bows toward her; and would under-peep her lids,
To see the enclosed lights, now canopied
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 arrast, figures, Why, such, and such-And the contents o'the story,

Ah, but some natural notes about her body,
Above ten thousand meaner moveables
Would testify, to enrich mine inventory:
O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her!
And be her sense but as a monument,
Thus in a chapel lying!-Come off, come off;-
[Taking off her bracelet.
As slippery, as the Gordian 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: this secret

It was anciently the custom to strew chambers with rushes.

ti. e. The white skin laced with blue veins. + Tapestry

Will force him think I have pick'd the lock, and talen The treasure of her honour. No more. To what end?

Why should I write this down, that's rivetted,
Screw'd to my memory? She hath been reading late
The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turn'd down,
Where Philomel gave up ;-I have enough:
To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it.
Swift, swift, you dragons of the night!—that dawning
May bare the raven's eye: I lodge in fear;
Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here.

One, two, three,-Time, time!

[Clock strikes.

[Goes into the trunk. The scene closes.

SCENE III

An ante-chamber adjoining Imogen's apartment.

Enter Cloten and Lords.

1 Lord. Your lordship is the most patient man in loss, the most coldest that ever turn'd up ace.

Clo. It would make any man cold to lose.

1 Lord. But not every man patient, after the noble temper of your lordship; You are most hot, and furious, when you win.

Clo. Winning would put any man into courage: If I could get this foolish Imogen, I should have gold enough: It's almost morning, is't not?

1 Lord. Day, my lord.

Clo. I would this musick would come: I am advised to give her musick o' mornings; they say, it will penetrate.

Enter Musicians.

Come on; tune: If you can penetrate her with your