Imo.
Who's there? my woman Helen?

Lady.
Please you, Madam—

Imo.
What hour is it?

Lady.
Almost midnight, Madam.

Imo.
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' th' clock,
I pr'ythee, 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 rises from the trunk.

Iach.
The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd sense
Repairs itself by rest: ^{6 note}our Tarquin thus
^{7 note}Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken'd
The 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' th' taper
Bows tow'rd her, and would under-peep her lids,
To see th' inclosed light, now canopy'd
Under these windows: ^{8 note}

Why, such and such—and the contents o' th' story—
Ah, but some nat'ral notes about her body,
Above ten thousand meaner moveables,
Would testify, t' enrich my 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 slipp'ry, as the Gordian knot was hard.—
'Tis mine; and this will witness outwardly,
As strongly as the conscience does within,
To th' madding of her Lord. On her left breast
A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops
I' th' bottom of a cowslip. Here's a voucher,
Stronger than ever law could make: this secret
Will force him think, I've 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 rivetted,
Screw'd to my mem'ry? She hath been reading, late,
The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turn'd down,
Where Philomel gave up—I have enough:—
To th' trunk again, and shut the spring of it.
Swift, swift, you Dragons of the night! ^{9 note}

May bare its raven eye: I lodge in fear,
Though this a heav'nly angel, hell is here. [Clock strikes.
One, two, three: time, time! [Goes into the trunk, the Scene closes.

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