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

could

I LORD. Day, my lord.

CLO. I would this mufick would come: I am advised to give her musick o' mornings; they fay, it will pene

trate.

Enter Muficians.

Come on; tune: If you can penetrate her with your fingering, fo; 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 fweet air, with admirable rich words to it,-and then let her confider.

SONG.

Hark! bark! the lark at heaven's gate fings,
And Phabus 'gins arise,

His feeds to water at those springs

On chalic'd flowers that lies;

And winking Mary-buds begin

To ope their golden eyes ;

With every thing that pretty bin:

My lady fweet, arife;
Arife, arife.

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

[Exeunt Muficians.

Enter CYMBELINE and QUEEN.

2 LORD. Here comes the king.

CLO. I am glad, I was up fo late; for that's the reason I was up fo early: He cannot choose but take this fer

vice I have done, fatherly.-Good morrow to your majesty, and to my gracious mother.

Crм. Attend you here the door of our ftern daughter? Will the not forth?

CLO. I have affail'd her with mufick, but fhe vouchfafes no notice.

Crм. The exile of her minion is too new;

She hath not yet forgot him: some more time
Muft 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 folicits; and be friended
With aptnefs of the season : make denials
Increase your fervices: So feem, as if
You were infpir'd to do thofe duties which
You tender to her; that you in all obey her,
Save when command to your difmiffion tends,
And therein you are fenfeless.

CLO. Senfelefs? not fo.

Enter a MESSENGER.

MES. So like you, fir, ambassadors from Rome; The one is Caius Lucius.

Crм. 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 fender;

And towards himself his goodness forefpent on us
We must extend our notice. Our dear fon,

have given good morning to your miftress,

queen, and us; we fhall have need

To employ you towards this Roman.-Come, our queen. [Exeunt Crм. QUEEN, LORDS, and MESS.

CLO. If the be up, I'll speak with her; if not,
Let her lie ftill, and dream.-By your leave, ho!-

I know her women are about her; What
If I do line one of their hands? 'Tis gold

[Knocks.

Which buys admittance; oft it doth; yea, and makes
Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up

Their deer to the ftand of the ftealer: and 'tis gold
Which makes the true man kill'd, and faves the thief;
Nay, fometime, 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 cafe myself.
By your leave.

Enter a LADY.

LADY. Who's there, that knocks?

CLO. A gentleman.

LADY. No more?

CLO. Yes, and a gentlewoman's fon.

LADY. That's more

Than fome, whofe tailors are as dear as yours,

[Knocks.

Can justly boast of: What's your lordship's pleasure ? CLO. Your lady's perfon: Is fhe ready?

LADY. Ay,

To keep her chamber.

CLO. There's gold for you; fell me your good report. LADY. How! my good name? or to report of you What I fhall think is good?The princefs

Enter IMOGEN.

CLO, Good-morrow, faireft fifter: Your fweet hand. IMO. Good-morrow, fir: You lay out too much pains

For purchafing but trouble: the thanks I give,
Is telling you that I am poor of thanks,
And scarce can spare them.

CLO. Still, I fwear, I love you.

IMO. If you but faid fo, 'twere as deep with me: If you fwear ftill, your recompence is still

That I regard it not.

CLO. This is no answer.

IMO. But that you shall not fay I yield, being filent, I would not speak. I pray you, fpare me: '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 fin: I will not.

IMO. Fools are not mad folks.

CLO. Do you call me fool?

IMO. 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 fo 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 fo near the lack of charity,

(To accufe myfelf) I hate you: which I had rather You felt, than make't my boast.

CLO. You fin against

Obedience, which you owe your father.

For

The contract you pretend with that base wretch,
(One, bred of alms, and fofter'd with cold dishes,
With fcraps 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 fouls
(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
The confequence o' the crown; and must not foil
The precious note of it with a base flave,

A hilding for a livery, a fquire's cloth,
A pantler, not fo eminent.

IMO. 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 t'were made
Comparative for your virtues, to be styl❜d

The under-hangman of his kingdom; and hated
For being preferr❜d so well.

CLO. The fouth-fog rot him!

IMO. He never can meet more mifchance, than come To be but nam'd of thee. His meaneft garment,

That ever hath but clipp'd his body, is dearer,
In my respect, than all the hairs above thee,
Were they all made fuch men.-How now, Pifanio?
Enter PISANIO.

CLO. His garment? Now, the devil—

IMO. To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently :-
CLO. His garment?

IMO. I am sprighted with a fool;

Frighted, and anger'd worse :-Go, bid my woman

Search for a jewel, that too cafually

Hath left mine arm; it was thy master's: 'fhrew me,
If I would lofe it for a revenue

Of any king's in Europe. I do think,
I faw't this morning: confident I am,

VOL. V.

Ff