ACT II
SCENE II Imogen's bedchamber in Cymbeline's palace:
 a trunk in one corner of it.


 [IMOGEN in bed, reading; a Lady attending]

IMOGEN Who's there? my woman Helen?

Lady Please you, madam

IMOGEN What hour is it?

Lady                   Almost midnight, madam.

IMOGEN 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 prithee, call me. Sleep hath seized 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 comes from the trunk]

IACHIMO 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 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! 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 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 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:
 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]




 CYMBELINE


ACT II



Scene III An ante-chamber adjoining Imogen's apartments.


 [Enter CLOTEN and Lords]

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

CLOTEN It would make any man cold to lose.

First Lord 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?

First Lord Day, my lord.

CLOTEN I would this music would come: I am advised to give
 her music 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.
 [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 is,
 My lady sweet, arise:
 Arise, arise.

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

 [Exeunt Musicians]

Second Lord Here comes the king.

CLOTEN 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.

 [Enter CYMBELINE and QUEEN]

 Good morrow to your majesty and to my gracious mother.

CYMBELINE Attend you here the door of our stern daughter?
 Will she not forth?

CLOTEN I have assailed her with music, but she vouchsafes no notice.

CYMBELINE 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 soliciting, and be friended
 With aptness of the season; make denials
 Increase your services; so seem as if
 You were inspired 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.

CLOTEN Senseless! not so.

 [Enter a Messenger]

Messenger So like you, sir, ambassadors from Rome;
 The one is Caius Lucius.

CYMBELINE 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 all but CLOTEN]

CLOTEN If she be up, I'll speak with her; if not,
 Let her lie still and dream.

 [Knocks]

         By your leave, ho!
 I Know her women are about her: what
 If I do line one of their hands? 'Tis gold
 Which buys admittance; oft it doth; yea, and makes
 Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up
 Their deer to the stand o' the stealer; and 'tis gold
 Which makes the true man kill'd and saves the thief;
 Nay, sometime hangs both thief and true man: what
 Can it not do and undo? I will make
 One of her women lawyer to me, for
 I yet not understand the case myself.

 [Knocks]

 By your leave.

 [Enter a Lady]

Lady Who's there that knocks?

CLOTEN A gentleman.

Lady No more?

CLOTEN Yes, and a gentlewoman's son.

Lady That's more
 Than some, whose tailors are as dear as yours,
 Can justly boast of. What's your lordship's pleasure?

CLOTEN Your lady's person: is she ready?

Lady Ay,
 To keep her chamber.

CLOTEN There is 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]

CLOTEN Good morrow, fairest: sister, your sweet hand.

 [Exit Lady]

IMOGEN Good morrow, sir. You lay out too much pains
 For purchasing but trouble; the thanks I give
 Is telling you that I am poor of thanks
 And scarce can spare them.

CLOTEN Still, I swear I love you.

IMOGEN If you but said so, 'twere as deep with me:
 If you swear still, your recompense is still
 That I regard it not.

CLOTEN This is no answer.

IMOGEN But that you shall not say I yield being silent,
 I would not speak. I pray you, spare me: 'faith,
 I shall unfold equal discourtesy
 To your best kindness: one of your great knowing
 Should learn, being taught, forbearance.

CLOTEN To leave you in your madness, 'twere my sin:
 I will not.

IMOGEN           Fools are not mad folks.

CLOTEN Do you call me fool?

IMOGEN As I am mad, I do:
 If you'll be patient, I'll no more be mad;
 That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir,
 You put me to forget a lady's manners,
 By being so verbal: and learn now, for all,
 That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce,
 By the very truth of it, I care not for you,
 And am so near the lack of charity--
 To accuse myself--I hate you; which I had rather
 You felt than make't my boast.

CLOTEN 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,
 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-figured knot;
 Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement by
 The consequence o' the crown, and must not soil
 The precious note of it with a base slave.
 A hilding for a livery, a squire's cloth,
 A pantler, not so eminent.

IMOGEN Profane fellow
 Wert thou the son of Jupiter and no more
 But what thou art besides, thou wert too base
 To be his groom: thou wert dignified enough,
 Even to the point of envy, if 'twere made
 Comparative for your virtues, to be styled
 The under-hangman of his kingdom, and hated
 For being preferred so well.

CLOTEN The south-fog rot him!

IMOGEN He never can meet more mischance than come
 To be but named 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]

CLOTEN 'His garment!' Now the devil--

IMOGEN To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently--

CLOTEN 'His garment!'

IMOGEN                   I am sprited with a fool.
 Frighted, and anger'd worse: go bid my woman
 Search for a jewel that too casually
 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:
 I hope it be not gone to tell my lord
 That I kiss aught but he.

PISANIO 'Twill not be lost.

IMOGEN I hope so: go and search.

 [Exit PISANIO]

CLOTEN You have abused me:
 'His meanest garment!'

IMOGEN Ay, I said so, sir:
 If you will make't an action, call witness to't.

CLOTEN I will inform your father.

IMOGEN Your mother too:
 She's my good lady, and will conceive, I hope,
 But the worst of me. So, I leave you, sir,
 To the worst of discontent.

 [Exit]

CLOTEN I'll be revenged:
 'His meanest garment!' Well.

 [Exit]



CYMBELINE


ACT II