Queen.
Whiles ^note yet the dew's on ground, gather those flowers; ^note
Make haste: who has the note of them?

First Lady.
I, madam.

Queen.
Dispatch. [Exeunt Ladies. ^note
Now, master doctor, have you brought those drugs?

Cor.
Pleaseth your highness, ay: here they are, madam: [Presenting ^note a small box.
But I beseech your grace, without offence,—
My conscience bids me ask— ^notewherefore you have
Commanded of me these most poisonous compounds,
Which are the movers of a languishing death,
But, though ^note slow, deadly. ^note

Queen.
I wonder ^note, doctor,

Thou ask'st me such a question. Have I not been
Thy pupil long? Hast thou not learn'd me how
To make perfumes? distil? preserve? yea, so
That our great king himself doth woo me oft
For my confections? Having thus far proceeded,—
Unless thou think'st me devilish—is't not meet
That I did amplify my judgement in
Other conclusions? I will try the forces
Of these thy compounds on such creatures as
We count not worth the hanging, but none human,
To try ^note the vigour of them and apply
Allayments to their act, and by ^note them gather
Their several virtues and effects.

Cor.
Your highness
Shall from this practice but make hard your heart:
Besides, the seeing these effects will be
Both noisome and infectious.

Queen.
O, content thee. Enter Pisanio. ^note [Aside ^note]
Here comes a flattering rascal; upon him
Will I first work ^note: he's for ^note his master,
And ^note enemy ^note to my son. How now, Pisanio!
Doctor, your service for this time is ended;
Take your own way.

Cor. [Aside ^note]
I do suspect you, madam;
But you shall do no harm.

Queen. [To Pisanio ^note]
Hark thee, a word.

Cor. [Aside ^note]
I do not like her. She doth think she has

Strange lingering poisons: I do know her spirit
And will not trust one of her malice with
A drug of such damn'd nature. Those ^note she has
Will stupefy and dull the sense awhile;
Which first, perchance, she'll prove on cats and dogs,
Then afterward up higher: but there is
No danger in what show of death it makes,
More than the locking up the spirits a time,
To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool'd
With a most false effect; and I the truer,
So to be false with her ^note.

Queen.
No further service, doctor,
Until I send for thee ^note.

Cor.
I humbly ^note take my leave. [Exit.

Queen.
Weeps she still, say'st thou? Dost thou think in time ^note
She will not quench and let instructions enter
Where folly now possesses? Do thou work:
When thou shalt bring me word she loves my son,
I'll tell thee on the instant thou art then
As great as is thy master; greater, for
His fortunes all lie speechless and his name
Is at last gasp: return he cannot, nor
Continue where he ^note is: to shift his being
Is to exchange one misery with another,
And every day that comes comes to decay
A day's work in him. What shalt thou expect,
To be depender on a thing that leans,
Who cannot be new built, nor ^note has no friends,
So much as but to prop him? [The Queen drops the box ^note: Pisanio takes it up.] Thou takest up
Thou know'st not what; but take it for thy labour:

It is a thing I made ^note, which hath the king
Five times redeem'd ^note from death: I do not know
What is more cordial: nay, I prithee, take it;
It is an earnest of a further ^note good
That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how
The case stands with her; do't as from thyself.
Think what a chance thou changest on ^note; but think
Thou ^note hast thy mistress still, to boot, my son,
Who shall take notice of thee: I'll move ^note the king
To any shape of thy preferment, such
As thou'lt desire; and then myself, I chiefly,
That set thee on to this desert, am bound
To load thy merit richly. Call my women:
Think on my words. [Exit Pisanio. ^note
A sly and constant knave;
Not to be shaked: the agent for his master;
And the remembrancer of her to hold
The hand-fast ^note to her lord. I have ^note given him that
Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her
Of liegers ^note for her sweet ^note; and which she after,
Except she bend her humour, shall be assured
To taste of too. Re-enter ^note Pisanio with Ladies.
So, so; well done, well done:
The violets, cowslips, and the primroses,
Bear to my closet. Fare thee well, Pisanio;
Think on my words. [Exeunt ^note Queen and Ladies.

Pis.
And shall do: ^note

But when to my good lord I prove untrue,
I'll choke myself: there's all I'll do for you. [Exit. ^note Scene VI. [Footnote: The same. Another room in the palace. ^note Enter Imogen alone ^note.

Imo.
A father cruel, and a step-dame false;
A foolish suitor to a wedded lady ^note,
That hath her husband banish'd;—O, that husband!
My supreme crown of grief! and those repeated
Vexations of it! Had I been thief-stol'n,
As my two brothers, happy! but most miserable
Is the desire ^note that's glorious ^note: blest ^note be those,
How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills,
Which seasons ^note comfort. Who may this be? Fie! Enter Pisanio and Iachimo.

Pis.
Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome,
Comes ^note from my lord with letters.

Iach.
Change you, madam? ^note
The worthy Leonatus is in safety,
And greets your highness dearly. [Presents a letter. ^note

Imo.
Thanks, good sir:
You're kindly welcome.

Iach. [Aside ^note]
All of her that is out of door most rich!
If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare,

She is alone the ^note Arabian bird ^note, and I
Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend!
Arm me, audacity, ^note from head to foot!
Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight;
Rather, directly fly.

Imo. [Reads]

‘He is one of the noblest note, to whose kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Reflect upon him accordingly, as you value your trust— ^note

Leonatus.’

Iach.
Thanks, fairest lady.
What, are men mad? ^note Hath nature given them eyes
To see this vaulted ^note arch and the rich crop
Of ^note sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt
The fiery orbs above and the ^note twinn'd ^note stones
Upon the number'd ^{note note} beach, and can we not
Partition make with spectacles ^note so precious
'Twixt fair and foul? ^note

Imo.
What makes your admiration?

Iach.
It cannot be i' the eye; for apes and monkeys,
'Twixt two such shes, would chatter this way and
Contemn with mows the other: nor i' the judgement;

For idiots, in this case of favour, would
Be wisely definite: nor i' the ^note appetite;
Sluttery, to such neat excellence opposed,
Should make desire vomit emptiness ^note, ^note
Not so ^note allured ^note to feed. ^note

Imo.
What is the matter, trow?

Iach.
The cloyed will,
That ^note satiate yet unsatisfied desire ^note, that tub
Both fill'd and running, ravening first the lamb,
Longs after for the garbage. ^note

Imo.
What, dear sir,
Thus raps ^note you? Are you well? ^note

Iach.
Thanks, madam; well. [To Pisanio]
Beseech you, sir, ^note
Desire ^note my man's abode where I did leave him: ^note
He's ^note strange and peevish ^note. ^note

Pis.
I was going ^note, sir,
To give him welcome. [Exit. ^note

Imo.
Continues well my lord? His ^note health, beseech you? ^note

Iach.
Well, madam.

Imo.
Is he disposed to mirth? I hope he is.

Iach.
Exceeding pleasant; none ^note a stranger there

So merry and so gamesome: he is call'd
The Briton ^note reveller.

Imo.
When he was here
He did incline to sadness, and oft-times
Not knowing why.

Iach.
I never saw him sad.
There is a Frenchman his companion, one
An eminent monsieur, that, it seems, much loves
A Gallian girl ^note at home: he furnaces
The thick sighs ^note from him; whiles the jolly Briton ^note,
Your lord, I mean, laughs from's free lungs, cries, ‘O,
Can my sides hold, to think that man, who knows
By history, report, or his own proof,
What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose
But must be, will his ^note free hours languish for
Assured ^note bondage?’

Imo.
Will my lord say so?

Iach.
Ay, madam; with his eyes in flood with laughter:
It is a recreation to be by
And hear him mock the Frenchman. But, heavens know ^note,
Some men are much to blame ^note. ^note

Imo.
Not he, I hope.

Iach.
Not he: ^note but yet heaven's bounty towards him might
Be used more thankfully. In himself 'tis much;
In you, which I account ^note his ^{note note} beyond all ^note talents, ^note

Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound
To pity too.

Imo.
What do you pity, sir?

Iach.
Two creatures heartily.

Imo.
Am I one, sir?
You look on me: what wreck ^note discern you in me
Deserves your pity?

Iach.
Lamentable! What,
To hide me from the radiant sun, and solace
I' the dungeon by a snuff?

Imo.
I pray you, sir,
Deliver with more openness your answers
To my demands. Why do you pity me?

Iach.
That others do,
I was about to say, enjoy your—But ^note
It is an office of the gods to venge it,
Not mine to speak on't.

Imo.
You do seem to know
Something of me, or what concerns me: pray you,—
Since doubting things go ill often hurts more
Than to be sure they do; for certainties
Either ^note are past remedies, or, timely knowing,
The remedy then born ^note,— ^notediscover to me
What both you ^note spur and stop.

Iach.
Had I this cheek
To bathe ^note my lips upon; this hand, whose touch,
Whose every ^note touch, would force the feeler's soul
To the oath of loyalty; this object, which
Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye,
Fixing ^note it only here; should I, damn'd ^note then,

Slaver with lips as common as the stairs
That mount the Capitol; join gripes with hands
Made hard with hourly falsehood—falsehood ^note, as
With labour; then by-peeping ^{note note} in an eye
Base and unlustrous ^note as the smoky light
That's fed with stinking tallow; it were fit
That all the plagues of hell should at one time
Encounter such revolt.

Imo.
My lord, I fear,
Has forgot Britain.

Iach.
And himself. ^note Not I
Inclined to this intelligence pronounce
The beggary of his change, but 'tis your graces
That from my mutest conscience to my tongue
Charms this report out.

Imo.
Let me hear no more.

Iach.
O dearest soul, your cause doth strike my heart
With pity, that doth make me sick! A lady
So fair, and fasten'd to an empery,
Would make the great'st king double, to be partner'd
With tomboys hired with ^note that self exhibition ^note
Which your own coffers yield! with diseased ventures ^note
That play ^note with all infirmities for gold
Which rottenness can lend ^note nature! such boil'd stuff
As well might poison poison! Be revenged,
Or she that bore you was no queen and you
Recoil from your great stock.

Imo.
Revenged! ^note
How should I be revenged? If this be true,— ^note
As I have such a heart that both mine ears
Must not in haste abuse,—if it be true,
How should ^note I be revenged?

Iach.
Should he make me ^note
Live ^note like Diana's priest, betwixt ^note cold sheets,
Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps,
In your despite, upon your purse? Revenge it.
I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure,
More noble than that runagate to your bed,
And will continue fast to your affection,
Still close as sure.

Imo.
What ho, Pisanio!

Iach.
Let me my service tender on your lips.

Imo.
Away! I do condemn ^note mine ears that have
So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable,
Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not
For such an end ^note thou seek'st, as base as strange.
Thou wrong'st a gentleman who is as far
From thy report as thou from honour, and
Solicit'st ^note here a lady that disdains
Thee and the devil alike. What ho, Pisanio!
The king my father shall be made acquainted
Of thy ^note assault: if he shall think it fit
A saucy stranger in his court to mart
As in a Romish stew and to expound
His beastly mind to us, he hath a court
He little cares for and a daughter ^note who ^note
He not respects at all. What ho, Pisanio!

Iach.
O happy Leonatus! I may say: ^note
The credit that thy lady hath of thee
Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect goodness
Her assured credit. Blessed live you long!
A lady to the worthiest sir that ever
Country call'd his! and you his mistress, only
For the most worthiest ^note fit! Give me your pardon.
I have spoke this to know if your affiance
Were deeply rooted, and shall make your lord
That which he is new o'er: and he is one
The truest manner'd, such a holy witch
That he enchants societies into ^note him;
Half all men's ^note hearts are his.

Imo.
You make amends.

Iach.
He sits 'mongst men like a descended ^note god:
He hath a kind of honour sets him off,
More than a mortal ^note seeming. Be not angry,
Most mighty princess, that I have adventured
To try your taking of ^note a false report, which hath
Honour'd with confirmation your great judgement
In the election of a sir so rare, ^note
Which you know cannot err. The love I bear him
Made me to fan you thus, but the gods made you,
Unlike all others, chaffless. Pray, your pardon.

Imo.
All's well, sir: take my power i' the court for yours. ^note

Iach.
My humble thanks. I had almost forgot
To entreat your grace but in a small request,
And yet of moment too, for it concerns ^note
Your lord; ^note myself and other noble friends
Are partners in the business.

Imo.
Pray, what is't?

Iach.
Some dozen Romans of us, and your lord—
The best ^note feather of our wing—have mingled sums
To buy a present for the emperor;
Which I, the factor for the rest, have done
In France: 'tis plate of rare device and jewels
Of rich and exquisite form, their values ^note great;
And I am something curious, being strange,
To have them in safe stowage: may it please you
To take them in protection?

Imo.
Willingly;
And pawn mine honour for their safety: ^note since
My lord hath interest in them, I will keep them
In my bedchamber.

Iach.
They are in a trunk,
Attended by my men: I will make bold
To send them to you, only for this night;
I must aboard to-morrow.

Imo.
O, no, no.

Iach.
Yes, I beseech; or I shall short my word
By lengthening my return. From Gallia
I cross'd the seas on purpose and on promise
To see your grace.

Imo.
I thank you for your pains:
But not away to-morrow! ^note

Iach.
O, I must, madam:
Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please
To greet your lord with writing, do't to-night:
I have outstood ^note my time, which is material
To the tender of our present.

Imo.
I will write.
Send your trunk to me; it shall safe be ^note kept
And truly yielded you. You're ^note very welcome. [Exeunt.

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