SCENE II.
A Bed-chamber; in one part of it a Trunk.
Imogen reading in her bed; a lady attending.
Imo.
Who's there? my woman Helen?
Lady.
Please you, madam.
-- 216 --
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' the clock,
I pr'ythee, call me. Sleep hath seiz'd me wholly.
[Exit lady.
To your protection I commend me, gods!
From fairies3 note
, 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 sense
Repairs itself by rest: 4 noteOur Tarquin thus
5 note
Did softly press the rushes9Q1049, ere he waken'd
-- 217 --
The chastity he wounded.—Cytherea,
How bravely thou becom'st thy bed! fresh lilly!
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' the taper
Bows toward her; and would under-peep her lids,
To see the inclosed lights, now canopy'd6 note
Under these windows: 7 note
9Q1050White and azure! lac'd
With blue of heaven's own tinct.—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, figures?
Why, such, and such:—And the contents o' the story,—
Ah, but some natural notes about her body,
(Above ten thousand meaner moveables
Would testify) to enrich mine 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 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 left breast
-- 218 --
A mole cinque-spotted, 8 note
like the crimson drops
I' the bottom of a cowslip: Here's a voucher,
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,
Screw'd to my memory? She hath been reading late,
The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turn'd down,
Where Philomel gave up—I have enough:
To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it.
Swift, swift, 9 noteyou dragons of the night! 1 note
that dawning
-- 219 --
May bare the raven's eye: I lodge in fear;
Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here.
[Clock strikes.
One, two, three:—Time, time!
[Goes into the trunk: the scene closes.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
