Imo. I pray you, sir, Deliver with more openness your answers I was about to say, enjoy your- -But Imo. You do seem to know Something of me, or what concerns me; 'Pray you, (Since doubting things go ill, often hurts more Than to be sure they do: For certainties Either are past remedies; or, timely knowing, The remedy then born,) discover to me What both you spur and stop.9 Had I this cheek Iach. To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whose touch, Whose every touch, would force the feeler's soul To the oath of loyalty; this object, which Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye, Fixing it only here: should I (damn'd then,) Slaver with lips as common as the stairs That mount the Capitol; join gripes with hands Made hard with hourly falsehood (falsehood, as With labour;) then lie peeping in an eye, Base and unlustrous as the smoky light That's fed with stinking tallow; it were fit, That all the plagues of hell should at one time Encounter such revolt. Imo. Has forgot Britain. Iach. My lord, I fear, And himself. Not I, Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce The beggary of his change; but 'tis your graces 9 What you seem anxious to utter, and yet withhold. That, from my mutest conscience, to my tongue, Charms this report out. Imo. Let me hear no more. Iach. O dearest soul! your cause doth strike my heart With pity, that doth make me sick. A lady Would make the great'st king double! to be partner'd With tomboys2, hir'd with that self-exhibition Which your own coffers yield! with diseas'd ventures, That play with all infirmities for gold Which rottenness can lend nature! such boil'd stuff, As well might poison poison! Be reveng'd; Imo. Reveng'd! Iach. Should he make me Live like Diana's priest, betwixt cold sheets; In your despite, upon your purse? Revenge it. What ho, Pisanio! Imo. 1 Sovereign command. 2 Wantons. Jach. Let me my service tender on your lips. Thee and the devil alike.-What ho, Pisanio! - Country call'd his! and you his mistress, only That he enchants societies unto him: Half all men's hearts are his. You make amends. Imo. More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry, Honour'd with confirmation your great judgment In the election of a sir so 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, chaffless. Pray, your pardon. Imo. All's well, sir: Take my power i'the court for yours. Iach. My humble thanks. I had almost forgot Your lord; myself, and other noble friends, Imo. Pray, what is't? Iach. Some dozen Romans of us, and your lord, (The best feather of our wing) have mingled sums, To buy a present for the emperor; Which I, the factor for the rest, have done In France: 'Tis plate, of rare device; and jewels, Imo. Willingly; Iach. They are in a trunk, Attended by my men: I will make bold I must aboard to-morrow. Imo. Iach. Yes, I beseech; or I shall short my word, O, no, no. By length'ning my return. From Gallia 4 To fan, is to winnow. 5 A stranger. I cross'd the seas on purpose, and on promise Imo. I thank you for your pains; But not away to-morrow? Iach. O, I must, madam : 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 ran all out. [Aside. Clo. When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths: Ha? • He is describing his fate at bowls; the jack is the small bowl at which the others are aimed. |