It is an office of the Gods to venge it, Imo. You do feem to know Something of me, or what concerns me; pray you, lach. Had I this cheek To bath my lips upon; this hand, whose touch, Imo. My Lord, I fear, Has forgot Britaine. lach. And himself. Not I, Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce The beggary of this change; but 'tis your graces, Imo. Let me hear no more. lach. O dearest foul! your caufe doth strike my heart With pity, that doth make me fick. A Lady So fair, and faften'd to an empery, Would make the greateft King double! to be partner'd With tomboys, hir'd with that self-exhibition Which your own coffers yield !-with difeas'd ventures, Which rottennefs lends nature! fuch boyl'd ftuff, Or Or fhe, that bore you, was no Queen, and you Recoil from your great stock. Imo. Reveng'd! How fhould I be reveng'd, if this be true? (As I have fuch a heart, that both mine ears Iach. Should he make me Live like Diana's Priest, betwixt cold fheets? In your defpight, upon your purfe? Revenge it :--- Imo. What ho, Pifanio ! lach. Let me my fervice tender on your lips. Imo. Away! I do condemn mine ears, that have Thee and the Devil alike. What ho, Pisanio! K 4 Were Were deeply rooted; and shall make your Lord, Imo. You make amends. Iach. He fits 'mong men, like a defcended God; Which, you know, cannot err. The love I bear him, Made me to fan you thus; but the Gods made you, Imo. All's well, Sir; take my pow'r i' th' court for yours. Iach. My humble thanks; I had almost forgot Imo. Pray, what is't? Iach. Some dozen Romans of us, and your Lord, Which I, the factor for the rest, have done Imo. Willingly; And pawn mine honour for their fafety. Since Iach. They are in a trunk, Attended by my men: I will make bold I muft aboard to morrow. Imo. O no, no. Iach. Yes, I beseech you: or I shall short my word, By length'ning my return. From Gallia, I croft the feas on purpose, and on promise Imo. I thank you for your pains ; Iach. O, I muft, Madam. Therefore I fhall befeech you, if you please Imo. I will write: Send your trunk to me, it fhall fafe be kept, W SCENE, Cymbeline's Palace. Enter Cloten, and two Lords. CLOTEN. AS there ever man had fuch luck! when I kifs'd the Jack upon an up caft, to be hit away! I had an hundred pound on't; and then a whorefon jack-an-apes must take me up for fwearing, as if I borrowed mine oaths of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure. 1 Lord. What got he by that? you have broke his pate with your bowl. 2 Lord If his wit had been like him that broke it, it would have run all out. [Afide. Clot. When a gentleman is difpos'd to fwear, it is not for any ftanders-by to curtail his oaths. Ha? K 5 2 Lord. 2 Lord. No, my lord; nor crop the ears of them. [Afide. Clot. Whorfon dog! I give him fatisfaction? 'would, he had been one of my rank. 2 Lord. To have fmelt like a fool. [Afide. Clot. I am not vext more at any thing in the earth,a pox on't! I had rather not be fo noble as I am; they dare not fight with me, because of the Queen my mother; every Jack-flave hath his belly full of fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock that no body can match. 2 Lord. You are a cock and a capon too; and you crow, cock, with your comb on. [Afide. Clot. Say'ft thou 2 Lord. It is not fit your lordship should undertake every companion, that you give offence to. Clot. No, I know that; but it is fit I fhould commit offence to my inferiors. 2 Lord. Ay, it is fit for your lordship only. Clot. Why, fo I say. 1 Lord. Did you hear of a ftranger that's come to court to night? not. Clot. A tranger, and I not know on't? 2 Lord. He's a ftrange fellow himself, and knows it [Afide. 1 Lord. There's an Italian come, and, 'tis thought, one of Leonatus's friends.. Clot. Leonatus! a banifh'd rafcal; and he's another, whatfoever he be. Who told you of this stranger? 1 Lord. One of your lordship's pages. Clot. Is it fit I went to look upon him? is there no derogation in't? 2 Lord. You cannot derogate, my lord. Clot. Not easily, I think. 2 Lord You are a fool granted, therefore your iffues being foolish do not derogate. [Afide. Clot. Come, I'll go fee this Italian: what I have loft to day at bowls, I'll win to night of him. Come; go. z Lord. I'll attend your lordship. [Exit Clot. That |