Must wear the print of his remembrance out, And then she's yours. Queen. You are most bound to the king; Who let's go by no vantages, that may Clo. Senseless? not so. Enter a Messenger. Mess. So like you, sir, embassadors 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 And towards himself his goodness forespent on us [Exeunt CYM. Queen, Lords, and Mess. Clo. If she be up, I'll speak with her; if not, Let her lie still, and dream.-By your leave ho!— [Knocks. 4 With solicitations not only proper but well-timed. I know her women are about her; What If I do line one of their hands? 'Tis gold Their deer to the stand of the stealer; and 'tis gold Enter a Lady. Lady. Who's there, that knocks? Clo. Lady. [Knocks. A gentleman. No more? That's more Clo. Yes, and a gentlewoman's son. Lady. Than some, whose tailors are as dear as yours, Can justly boast of: What's your lordship's pleasure? Clo. Your lady's person: Is she ready? Lady. To keep her chamber. Ay, Clo. There's gold for you; sell me your good report. Lady. How! my good name? or to report of you What I shall think is good?-The princess Enter IMOGEN. Clo. Good-morrow, fairest sister: Your sweet hand. Imo. Good-morrow, sir: You lay out too much pains For purchasing but trouble: the thanks I give, And scarce can spare them. Clo. Still, I swear, I love you. Imo. If you but said so, 'twere as deep with me: If you swear still, your recompense is still That I regard it not. Clo. This is no answer. Imo. But that you shall not say I yield, being silent, I would not speak. I pray you, spare me : i'faith, I shall unfold equal discourtesy To your best kindness; one of your great knowing Should learn, being taught, forbearance. Clo. To leave you in your madness, 'twere my sin: I will not, Imo. Fools are not mad folks. Clo. Imo. As I am mad, I do : Do you call me fool? If you'll be patient, I'll no more be mad; By being so verbal : 5 and learn now, for all, (To accuse myself) I hate you: which I had rather You felt, than make't my boast. Clo. You sin against Obedience, which you owe your father. For The contract you pretend with that base wretch, (One, bred of alms, and foster'd with cold dishes, 5 So verbose, so full of talk. With scraps o'the court,) it is no contract, none: And though it be allow'd in meaner parties, (Yet who, than he, more mean?) to knit their souls (On whom there is no more dependency But brats and beggary) in self-figur'd knot; " Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement by A pantler, not so eminent. Imo. Clo. The south-fog rot him! Imo. He never can meet more mischance, than come To be but nam'd of thee. His meanest garment, That ever hath but clipp'd his body, is dearer, In my respect, than all the hairs above thee, Were they all made such men.-How now, Pisanio? Enter PISANIO. Clo. His garment? Now, the devil— Imo. To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently:Clo. His garment? 6 In knots of their own tying. 7 A low fellow only fit to wear a livery. Imo. I am sprighted with a fool; Frighted, and anger'd worse :-Go, bid my woman Hath left mine arm; it was thy master's: 'shrew me, If I would lose it for a revenue Of any king's in Europe. I do think, I saw't this morning: confident I am, Last night 'twas on mine arm; I kiss'd it: That I kiss aught but he. Pis. Imo. I hope so: go, and search. Clo. His meanest garment? Imo. If "Twill not be lost. [Exit Pis. You have abus'd me: Ay; I said so, sir. you will make't an action, call witness to't. Your mother too: Imo. To the worst of discontent. [Exit. Clo. I'll be reveng'd: His meanest garment?-Well. [Exit. SCENE IV. Rome. An Apartment in Philario's House, Enter POSTHUMUS and PHILARIO. Post. Fear it not, sir: I would, I were so sure To win the king, as I am bold, her honour 8 Haunted. |