SCENE III. A publick Place. Enter CLOTEN, and Two Lords. I Lord. Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt; the violence of action hath made you reek as a sacrifice: Where air comes out, air comes in: there's none abroad so wholesome as that you vent. Clo. If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it-Have I hurt him? 2 Lord. No, faith; not so much as his patience. [Aside. 1 Lord, Hurt him? his body's a passable carcass, if he be not hurt: it is a thoroughfare for steel, if it be not hurt. 2 Lord. His steel was in debt; it went o' the backside the town. [Aside. Clo. The villain would not stand me. 2 Lord. No; but he fled forward still, toward your face. [Aside. 1 Lord. Stand you! You have land enough of your own: but he added to your having; gave you some ground. 2 Lord. As many inches as you have oceans: Puppies! [Aside. a Clo. I would, they had not come between us. 2 Lord. So would I, till you had measured how long you were upon the ground. fool [Aside. Clo. And that she should love this fellow, and refuse me! 2 Lord. If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damned. [Aside. 1 Lord. Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not together: She's a good sign, but I have seen small reflection of her wit. 2 Lord. She shines not upon fools, lest the reflection should hurt her. [Aside.. Clo. Come, I'll to my chamber: 'Would there had been some hurt done! 2 Lord. I wish not so; unless it had been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt. Clo. You'll go with us? 1 Lord. I'll attend your lordship. Clo. Nay, come, let 's go together. 2 Lord. Well, my lord. SCENE IV. A Room in Cymbeline's Palace. Enter IMOGEN and PISANIO. [Aside. [Exeunt. Imo. I would thou grew'st unto the shores o' the haven, And question'dst every sail: if he should write, As offer'd mercy is. What was the last That he spake to thee? Pis. Imo. Then wav'd his handkerchief? Pis. 'Twas, His queen, his queen! And kiss'd it, madam. Imo. Senseless linen! happier therein than I!— And that was all? Pis. Imo. Thou should'st have made him As little as a crow, or less, ere left To after-eye him. Pis. Madam, so I did. Imo. I would have broke mine eye-strings; crack'd them, but To look upon him; till the diminution Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle: Nay, follow'd him, till he had melted from The smallness of a gnat to air; and then Have turn'd mine eye, and wept.-But, good Pisanio, When shall we hear from him? Pis. With his next vantage. Be assur'd madam, Imo. I did not take my leave of him, but had Most pretty things to say: ere I could tell him, How I would think on him, at certain, hours, Such thoughts, and such; or I could make him swear Mine interest, and his honour; or have charg'd him, I am in heaven for him; or ere I could Lady. Enter a Lady. Desires your highness' company. The queen, madam, Imo. Those things I bid you do, get them despatch'd.— I will attend the queen. Pis. Madam,, I shall. SCENE V. [Exeunt. Rome. An Apartment in Philario's House. Enter PHILARIO, IACHIMO, a Frenchman, a Dutchman, and a Spaniard. Iach. Believe it, sir: I have seen him in Britain: he was then of a crescent note; expected to prove so worthy, as since he hath been allowed the name of: but I could then have look'd on him without the help of admiration; though the catalogue of his endowments had been tabled by his side, and I to peruse him by items. Phi. You speak of him when he was less furnish'd, than now he is, with that which makes him both without and within. French. I have seen him in France: we had very many there, could behold the sun with as firm eyes as he. Iach. This matter of marrying his king's daughter, (wherein he must be weigh'd rather by her value, than his own,) words him, I doubt not, a great deal from the matter. French. And then his banishment: Iach. Ay, and the approbation of those, that weep this lamentable divorce, under her colours, are wonderfully to attend him; be it but to fortify her judgment, which cise an easy battery might lay flat, for taking a beggar without more quality. But how comes it, he is to sojourn with you? How creeps acquaintance? Phi. His father and I were soldiers together; to whom I have been often bound for nodess than my life: Enter POSTHUMUS. Here comes the Briton: Let him be so entertained amongst you, as suits, with gentlemen of your knowing, to a stranger of his quality.I beseech you all, be better known to this gentleman; whom I commend to you, as a noble friend of mine: How worthy he is, I will leave to appear hereafter, rather than story him in his own hearing. French. Sir, we have known together in Orleans. Post. Since when I have been debtor to you for courtesies, which I will be ever to pay, and yet pay still. French. Sir, you o'er-rate my poor kindness: I was glad I did atone my countryman and you; it had been pity, you should have been put together with so mortal a purpose, as then each bore, upon importance of so slight and trivial a nature. Post. By your pardon, sir, I was then a young traveller; rather shunn'd to go even with what I heard, than in my every action to be guided by others' experiences: but, upon my mended judgment, (if I offend not to say it is mended) my quarrel was not altogether slight. French. 'Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitrement of, swords; and by such two, that would, by all likelihood, have confounded one the other, or have fallen both. Iach. Can we, with manners, ask what was the difference? French. Safely, I think: 'twas a contention in publick, which may, without contradiction, suffer the report. It was much like an argument that fell out last night, where each of us fell in praise of our country mistresses! This gentleman at that time vouching, (and upon warrant of bloody affirmation) his to be more fair, virtuous, wise, chaste, constant-qualified, and less attemptible, than any the rarest of our ladies in France. Iach. That lady is not now living; or this gentleman's opinion, by this, worn out. Post. She holds her virtue still, and I my mind. Iach. You must not so far prefer her 'fore ours of Italy.. Post. Being so far provoked as I was in France, I would abate her nothing; though I profess myself her adorer, not her friend. Iach. As fair, and as good, (a kind of hand-in-hand comparison) had been something too fair, and too good, for any lady in Britany. If she went before others I have seen, as that diamond of yours out-lustres many I have beheld, I could not but believe she excelled many: but I have not seen the most precious diamond that is, nor you the lady. Post. I praised her, as I rated her: so do I my stone. Post. More than the world enjoys. Iach. Either your unparagoned mistress is dead, or she 's outprized by a trifle. Post. You are mistaken: the one may be sold, or given; if there were wealth enough for the purchase, or merit for the gift: the other is not a thing for sale, and only the gift of the gods. Iach. Which the gods have given you? Post. Which, by their graces, I will keep. Iach. You may wear her in title yours: but, you know, strange fowl light upon neighbouring ponds. Your ring may be stolen too: so, of your brace of unprizeable estimations, the one is but frail, and the other casual; a cunning thief, or that-way-accomplished courtier, would hazard the winning both of first and last. Post. Your Italy contains none so accomplished a courtier, to convince the honour of my mistress; if, in: the holding or loss of that, you term her frail. I do no |