Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

sense

ACT II. SCENE. A Bedchamber; in ons part of it a Trunk.

Imogen reading in her Bed; a Lady attending.

Imo. Mine eyes are weak:Fold down the Ica! 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 pr’ythec, call me. Sleep hath seiz'd 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 from the Trunk. Iach. The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd Repairs itself by rest: Our Tarquin thus Lid softly press the rushes, * ere he waken'd T'he chastity he wounded.-Cytherea, How bravely thou becom’st 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'i be taper Bows toward her; and would underpeep her lids, To see the enclosed lights, now canopied Under these windows: White and azure, lac'd With blue of heav'ns own tinct.t 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, f ligures,
Why, such, and such:--And the contents o' the sto

ry,--
Ah, but some natural notes about her body,
Above ten thousand meaner mourables
Would testify to enrich mine inventory:
O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her!

* It was anciently the custom to strew chambers witb r.shes. t i. e. The white skin laced with blue veins.

Tapestry.

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 lest breast A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops ļ the bottom of a cowslip: Here's a roucher, 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, Serew'd to my memory? She hath been reading late The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turn'd down, Where Philomel gave up:-1 have enough: To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it, Swist, swist, you dragons of the night!--that dawning May bear the raven's eye: I lodge in fear; Though this a hearenli angel, hell is here.

[Goes into the Trunk. The Scene closes.

GOLD.

Tis gold Which buys admittance; oft it doth; vea, and makes Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up Their deer to the stand of the stealer; and 'tis gold Which makes the true man kill'd, and saves the thies; Nay, sometimes, hangs both thief and true man:

\Vhat Can it not do, and undo?

A SATIRE OF WOMEN.

Is there no way for nien to be, but women Must be half-workers? We are bastards all; And that most venerable man, which I Dit call my father, was I know not where When I was stamp’d; some coiner with his tools Made me a counterfeit; Yet iny mother seem'i The Dian of that time: so deth my wife The nonpariel of this.-0 vengeance, vengeancel

* Modesty.

Me of my lawsul pleasure she restrain'd,
And pray'd me, olt, forbearance: did it with
A pudency* so rosy, the sweet view on't
Might weil have warm’d old Saturn; that I thought
As chaste as unsun'd snow:

[her

Could I find out
The woman's part in me! For there's no motion
That tends to vice in man, but I affirm
It is the woinan's part: be it lying, note it,
The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers;
Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,
Nice longings, slanders, mutability,
All faults that may be nam’d, nay that hell knows,
Why, hers, in part, or all; but, rather, all:
For ev'n to vice
They are not constant, but are changing still
One vice, but of a minute old, for one
Not hall so old as that. I'll write against them,
Detest them, curse them:-Yet 'tis greater skill
In 1 !1'le hate, to pray they have their will:
The 131 y devils cannot plague them better

АСТ III.

IMPATIENCE OF A WIFE TO MEET HER HUSBAND.

O, for a horse with wings !-Hear’st thon, Pisanio? He is at Millord-Haven: Read, and tell me llow 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,V, let me bate, but not like me:--yet long'st, but in a fainter kind;-0, not like me; For mine's beyond beyond,) say, and speak thick,t (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, 'Tu me how Wales was made so happy, as

* Modesty.
trowd one word on another, as fast as possible

To inherit such a haven: But first of all,
How we may steal from hence; and, for the gap
That we shall make in time, from our hence going,
And our return, to excuse:—but first, how get

hence;
Why should excuse be born or e’er begot?
We'll talk of tha: hereafter. Pr’ythee, speak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
Twixt hour and hour?
Pisa.

One score, 'twixt sun and sun, Madam, 's enongh for you; and too much too.

Imo. Why, one ihat rode to his execution. man, Could never go so slow: I have heard of riding

wagers, Where horses have been ninibler than the sands That run i'the clocks behalf:—But this is fuolery:Go, bid my woman feign a sickness; say She'll honie to her father: and provide me, presently A riding suit; no costlier than would fit A franklin's* housewife. Pisa.

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, 1 prøythee; Do as I bid thee: There's no more to say; Accessible is none buit Milford way. [Ereunt. SCENE. Wales. A mountainous Country, wilh a

Cave. Enter Belarius, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS. Bel. A goodly day not to keep ouse, with

such Whose rool's as low as ours! Stoop, boys: This gate Instructs you how to adure the heavens; and bows

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

" A freeholder. # Strut, walk proudly.

Gui.

Hail, heaven! Arv.

Hail, heaven! Bel. Now, for our mountain sport: Up to yon hill, Your legs are young; l'll tread ihese flats. Consider, 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 servile, so being done, But being so allow'd: To apprehend thus, Draws us a profit from all things we see: And osten, to our comfort, shall we find The sharded* beetle in a safer hold Than is the full-wing'd eagle. O, this life Is nobler, than attending for a check; 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 lise 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 lise be best; sweeter to you,
That have a sharper known; well corresponding
With your stiff age; but, unto us, it is
A cell of ignorance; travelling a-bed;
A prison for a debtor, that not dares
To stride a limit.f
Arv.

What should we speak of,
When we are old as you? when we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark Deceniber, 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 chase what flies; our cage
We make a quire, as doth the prison bird,

* Sraly-winged. ti. c Comnaied with ours. * To overpass, his bo

« ПредишнаНапред »