Cloten. No, I know that: but it is fit, I should inferiors.

commit offence to my

Loc. Ay, it is fit for your lordship only.

Cloten. Why, so I say.

Loc. Here comes the king.

Enter CYMBELINE and QUEEN.

Cloten, Good-night to your majesty, and gracious mother.

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

Will she not forth?

Cloten. She vouchsafes no notice; but I will assail her before morning with mask and music.

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.

Enter an OFFICER, and whispers LOCRINE. Queen. You are most bound to the king, Who lets go by no 'vantages, that may

Prefer you to his daughter.

Loc. 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 :-Our dear son,

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

T' employ you towards this Roman.

Betimes to-morrow we'll hear th' embassy.

Come, madam. [Exeunt CYMBELINE and QUEEN. Loc. Did you hear of another stranger, that's come to court to-night?

Cloten. Another stranger, and I not know on't? Mad. He's a strange fellow himself, and knows it [Aside.

not.

Loc. There's an Italian come, and 'tis thought, one of Leonatus' friends.

Cloten. Leonatus! A banished rascal; and he's another, whatsoever he be. Who told you of this stranger?

Loc. One of your lordship's pages.

Cloten. Is it fit, I went to look upon him? Is there no derogation in it?

Mad. You cannot derogate, my lord.

Cloten. Not easily, I think.

Come, I'll go see this Italian; and if he'll play,
I'll game with him; and to-morrow, with our
Father, we'll hear the ambassador-Come, let's go.
Loc. I attend your lordship.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A Bed-chamber.-In one Part of it a Trunk.

IMOGEN reading in her Bed.-HELEN attending.

Imog. Who's there? my woman Helen?
Helen. Please you, madam,-

Imog. What hour is it?

Helen. Almost midnight, madam.

Imog. 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 has seized me wholly.
[Exit HELEN.
To your protection I commend me, gods!
From fairies, and the tempters of the night,
Guard me, 'beseech you!

[Sleeps.

IACHIMO comes out of the Trunk.

Iach. The crickets sing, and man's o'erlabour'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 becomest thy bed! fresh lily!
And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch!
But kiss; one kiss !—

'Tis her breathing that

Perfumes the chamber thus: The flame o' the taper Bows towards her; and would under-peep her lids, To see the enclosed lights, now canopied

Under these windows: White and azure, laced 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 Gordion 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.

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:
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 IV.

CYMBELINE'S Palace.

Enter CLOTEN, LOCRINE, and MADAN.

Loc. Your lordship is the most patient man in loss, the coldest that ever turned up ace.

Cloten. It would make any man cold to lose.

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

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

Mad. Day, my lord.

Cloten. I would the maskers and musicians were come; I am advised to give her music o' mornings; they say, it will penetrate.

[A Flourish of Music within. Loc. Here they are, my lord. Cloten. Come, let's join them.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V,

An Anti-chamber to IMOGEN's Apartment.

Enter CLOTEN, LOCRINE, and MADAN, with SINGERS and DANCERS, as MASKERS.

Cloten. Come on, tune first a very excellent good conceited thing, after a wonderful sweet air, with admirable rich words to it, and then let her consider.

SONG.

Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins arise,

His steeds to water at those springs

On chaliced 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.

Cloten. So, get you gone :

3

:-if this penetrate, I will consider your music the better; [Exeunt SINGERS.] if it do not, it is a vice in her ears, which horse-hairs, and cats'-guts, nor the voice of eunuch to boot, can never amend. Come, now to our dancing. And if she is immoveable with this, she is an immoveable princess, and not worth my notice.

[Dances of MASKERS.