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 awaken'd

The chastity he wounded.-Cytherea,

How bravely thou becom'st thy bed! fresh lily!

And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch!

1

press the rushes,] It was the custom in the time of our author to strew chambers with rushes, as we now cover them with carpets.

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 arras, 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
Will force him think I have pick'd the lock, and ta'en
The treasure of her honour. No more.-To what end?
Why should I write this down, that's riveted,
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 :

2 Under these windows :] i. e. her eyelids.

3 like the crimson drops

I'the bottom of a cowslip.]

This simile contains the smallest

out of a thousand proofs that Shakspeare was an observer of nature, though, in this instance, no very accurate describer of it, for the drops alluded to are of a deep yellow. STEEVENS.

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. [Clock strikes. One, two, three,-Time, time!

[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 turned 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 fingering, so; we'll try with tongue too: if none will do, let her remain; but I'll never give o'er. First, a very excellent good-conceited thing; after, a wonderful sweet air, with admirable rich words to it,—and then let her consider.

you dragons of the night!] The task of drawing the chariot of night was assigned to dragons, on account of their supposed watchfulness.

SONG.

Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,

And Phoebus 'gins arise,

His steeds to water at those springs

On chalic'd flowers that lies';
And winking Mary-buds begin
To ope their golden eyes;
With every thing that pretty bin;
My lady sweet, arise;
Arise, arise.

So, get you gone: If this penetrate, I will consider your musick the better': if it do not, it is a vice in her ears, which horse-hairs, and cat-guts, nor the voice of unpaved eunuch to boot, can never amend.

[Exeunt Musicians.

Enter CYMBELINE and Queen.

2 Lord. Here comes the king.

Clo. I am glad, I was up so late; for that's the reason I was up so early: He cannot choose but take this service I have done, fatherly. Good morrow to your majesty, and to my gracious mother.

Cym. Attend you here the door of our stern daughter?

Will she not forth?

Clo. I have assailed her with musick, but she vouchsafes no notice.

5 His steeds to water at those springs

On chalic'd flowers that lies ;] i. e. the morning sun dries up the dew which lies in the cups of flowers: The cup of a flower is I called calix, whence chalice.

6 And winking Mary-buds begin

To ope their golden eyes;] The marigold is supposed to shut itself up at sun-set.

7

I will consider your musick the better:] i. e. I will pay you more amply for it.

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.

Queen.

You are most bound to the king; Who lets go by no vantages, that may Prefer you to his daughter; Frame yourself To orderly solicits; and be friended With aptness of the season; make denials Increase your services; so seem, as if You were inspir'd to do those duties which You tender to her; that you in all obey her, Save when command to your dismission tends, And therein you are senseless.

Clo.

Senseless? not so.

Enter a Messenger.

Mess. 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: We must receive him
According to the honour of his sender;

And towards himself his goodness forespent on us
We must extend our notice '.-Our dear son,

When you have given good morning to your mistress,
Attend the queen, and us; we shall have need

To employ you towards this Roman. - Come, our queen.

[Exeunt CYM. Queen, Lords, and Mess.

To orderly solicits ;] i. e. regular courtship, courtship after the established fashion.

9 And towards himself his goodness forespent on us

Our

We must extend our notice.] That is, we must extend towards himself our notice of his goodness heretofore shown to us. author has many similar ellipses.