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SCENE II.

Another room in the same.

Enter Pisanio. Pis. How! of adultery? Wherefore write you not What monster's her accuser. Leonatus! O, master! what a strange infection Is fallen into thy ear? What false Italian (As poisonous-tongu'd, as handed), hath prevaild On tby too ready bearing?-Disloyal? No: She's punish'd for bier truth; and undergoes, More goddess-like than wife like, such assaults As would take in* some virtue.-0, my master! Thy mind to her is now as low, as were Thy fortanes. How! that I should murder ber? Upon the love, and truth, and vows, which I Have made to thy command ?-I, her-ber blood ? If it be so to do good-service, never Let me be counted serviceable. How look I, That I should seem to lack humanity, So much as this fact comes to ? Do't: The letter

(Reading That I have sent her, by her own command Shall give thee opportunity: damn'd paper! Black as the ink that's on thee'! Senseless bauble, Art thou a feodaryt for this act, and look'st So virgin like without? Lo, here she comes.

Enter Imogen.
I am ignorant in what I am commanded.

Imo. How uow, Pisanio?

* To take in a town, is to conquer it.
+ Confederate.

Pis. Madam, here is a letter from my lord.

Imo. Who? thy lord ? that is my lord ? Leonatus? o, learn'd indeed were that astronomer, That knew the stars, as I his characters; He'd lay the future open.-- You good gods, Let what is here contain'd relish of love, Of my lord's health, of his content, yet not, That we two are asunder, let that grieve him,(Some griefs are med'cinable ;) that is one of them, For it doth physick love ;-of his content, All but in that!--Good wax, thy leave :-Bless'd be You bees, that make these locks of counsel ! Lovers, And men in dangerous bonds, pray not alike; Though forfeiters you cast in prison, yet You clasp young Cupid's tables.-Good news, gods!

[Reads. Justice, and your father's wrath, should he take me in his dominion, could not be so cruel to me, as you, O the dearest of creatures, would not even renew me with your eyes. Take notice, that I am in Cambria, at Milford-Haven. What your own love will, out of this, advise you, follow. So, he wishes you all happiness, that remains loyal to his vow, and your, increasing in love,

LEONATUS POSTHUMUS,

O, for a horse with wings !—Hear'st thou, Pisapio ?
He is at Milford. Flaven: Read, and tell me
How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs
May plod it in a week, why may not I
Glide thither in a day! -Then, true Pisanio
(Who long'st, like me, to see thy lord; who long'st,
0, let me' bate,--but not like me: yet long'st, -
But in a faipter kind :-0, not like me;
For mine's beyond beyond), suy, and speak thick*,
(Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing,
To the smothering of the sense), how far it is
To this same blessed Milford: And, by the way,

* Crowd one word on another, as fast as possible,

Tell me how Wales was made so happy, as
To inherit such a haven: But, first of all,
How we may steal from hepce; and, for the gap
That we shall make in time, from our hence.going,
And how return, to excuse:-but first, how get

hence:
Why should excuse be boru or ere begot ?
We'll talk of that hereafter. Pr'ythee, speak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
'Twixt our and hour?
Pis.

One score, 'twixt sun and sun, Madam, 's enough for you;

ind too much too. Imo. Why, one that rode to his execution, man, Could never go so slow: I have heard of riding wa

gers, Where horses have been uimbler than the sands That run i'the clock's behalf:-But this is foolery:Go, bid my woman feign a sickness; say, She'll home to ber father: and provide me, presently, A riding suit ; no costlier than would fit A franklin's* housewife. Pis.

Madam, you're best consider. Imo. I see before me, man, nor here, nor here, Nor what ensues; but have a fog in them, That I cannot look through. Away, I pr'ythee; Do as I bid thee: There's no more to say ; Accessible is none but Milford way. [Ereunt.

• A freeholder's.

"SCENE III.

Wales. A mountainous country, with a cave.

Aro.

Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus. Bel. A goodly day not to keep house, with such Whose roof's as low as ours! Stoop, boys : This

gale Instructs you how to adore the heavens; and bows

you To morning's holy office: The gates of monarchs Are arch'd so high, that giants may jet* through, And keep their impious tarbands on, without Good morrow to the sun.-Hail, thou fair heaven! We house i'the rock, yet use thee not so hardly As prouder livers do. Gui.

Hail, heaven!

Hail, heaven! Bel. Now, for our mountain sport: Up to yon

hill, Your legs are young; I'll tread these flats. Consi.

der,
When you above perceive me like a crow,
That it is place which lessens, and sets off.
And you may then revolve what tales I have told

you,
Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war:
This service is not service, so being done,
But being so allow'd: To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we see:
And often, to our comfort, shall we find
The sharded I beetle in a safer hold
Than is the full-wing'd eagle. O, this life
Is nobler, than attending for a check ;

* Strut, walk proudly.

† Scaly-winged.

Richer, than doing nothing for a babe;
Prouder, than rustling in unpaid.for silk:
Such gain the cap of him, that makes them fine,
Yet keeps his book uncross'd: no life to ours*.
Gui. Out of your proof you speak : we, poor un-

fledg'd, Have never wing'd from view o'the nest; nor know

not

What air's from home. Haply, this life is best,
If quiet life be best; sweeter to you,
That have a sharper known; well corresponding
With your stiff age; but, unto us, it is
A cell of iguorance; travelling abed;
A prison for a debtor, that not dares
To stride a limitt.
Лry.

What should we speak of,
When we are old as you? when we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December, how,
In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing:
We are beastly; subtle as the fox, for prey ;
Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat:
Our valour is, to chace what flies; our cage
We make a quire, as doth the prison bird,
And sing our bondage freely.
Bel.

How you speak!
Did you but know the city's usuries,
And felt them knowingly: the art o'the court,
As hard to leave, as keep; whose top to climb
Is certain falling, or so slippery, that
The fear's as bad as falling: the toil of the war,
A pain that only seems to seek out danger
I'the name of fame, and honour; which dies i'the

search;
And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph,
As record of fair act; nay, many times,
Doth ill deserve by doing well; what's worse,

* i. e. Compared with ours.

+ To overpass his bound. VOL. VII.

N

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