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To give him welcome.
Imo. Continues well my Lord
His health, 'beseech you?
Iach. Well, Madam.
Imo. Is he dispos’d to mirth? I hope, he is.
Iach. Exceeding pleasant ; none a stranger there
So merry, and so gamesome; he is call’d
The Britaine Reveller.
Imo. When he was here,
He did incline to sadness, and oft times
Not knowing why.
Iach. I never saw him fad,
There is a Frenchman his companion, one,
An eminent Monsieur, that, it seems, much loves
A Gallian girl at home. He furnaces
The thick fighs from him ; whiles the jolly Briton,
(Your Lord, I mean, laughs from's free lungs, cries
Can my sides hold, to think, that man, who knows
By history, report, or his own proof,
What woman is, yea, what she cannot chuse
But must be, will his free hours languish out
For afsur'd bondage?
Imo. Will my Lord say fo?
Iach. Ay, Madam, with his eyes in flood with
laughter. It is a recreation to be by, And hear him mock the Frenchman: but heav'n
knows, Some men are much to blame.
Imo. Not he, I hope.
lach. Not he. But yet heav'n's bounty tow'rds him
Be us’d more thankfully. In himself, 'tis much;
In you, whom I count his, beyond all talents;
Whilft I ain 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 discern you in me,
Deserves your pity
lach. Lamentable! what!
To hide me from the radiant sun, and solace
I'ch' 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
It is an office of the Gods to venge it,
Not mine to speak on't.
Imo. You do feem to know
Something of me, or what concerns me; pray
(Since doubting things go ill, often hurts more
Than to be sure they do ; for certainties
Or are past remedies, or timely knowing,
The remedy then born ;) discover to me
What both you spur and stop.
Tacb. Had I this cheek
To bath my lips upon; this hand, whose touch,
Whose ev'ry touch would force the feeler's soul
To th’oath of loyalty ; this object, which
Takes pris’ner the wild motion of mine eye,
Fixing it only here ; should I, (damn'd them,)
Slaver with lips, as common as the stairs
That mount the Capitol; join gripes with hands
Made hard with hourly falfhood, as with labour;
Then glad myself by peeping in an eye,
Base and unlustrous as the smoaky 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 Britaine.
lach. And himself. Not I,
Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce
The beggary of this change ; but ʼtis your graces,
That from my muteft contcience, to my tongue,
Charms this report out.
Imo. Let me hear no more.
Iach. Oh dearest soul! your cause doth strike my
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 partnerid
With tomboys, hir'd with that self-exhibition
Which your own coffers yield! with diseasid
That play with all infirmities for gold,
Which rottenness lends nature! such boyl'd stuff,
As well might poison Poison! Be reveng'd ;
Or she, that bore you, was no Queen, and you
Recoil from your great stock.
How should I be reveng'd, if this be true?
(As I have such a heart, that both mine ears
Must not in hafte abuse;) if it be true,
How shall I be reveng'd?
Iach. Should he make me
Live like Diana's Priest, betwixt cold sheets?
Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps
In your despight, upon your purse? Revenge it :-
I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure,
More noble than that runagate to your bed ;
And will continue faft to your affection,
Still close, as fure.
Imo. What ho, Pisanio!
Iach. Let me my service tender on your lips.
Imo. Away!—I do condemn mine ears, that have
So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable,
Thou would'st have told this tale for virtue, not
For such an end thou seek'st; as base, as strange:
Thou wrong'st a Gentleman, who is as far
From thy report, as thou from honour; and
Sollicit't here a Lady, that disdains
Thee, and the Devil alike. What ho, Pifanio!
The King my father shall be made acquainted
Of thy affault; if he shall think it fit,
A saucy ftranger in his court to marc
As in a Romish stew, and to expound
His beastly mind to us; he hath a court
He little cares for, and a daughter whom
He not respects at all. What ho, Pisanio!
Iach. O happy Leonatus, I may fay ;
The credit, that thy Lady hath of thee,
Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect goodness
Her aflur'd credit ! blefied live
A Lady to the worthiest Sir, that ever
Country callid his! and you his mistress, only
For the most worthiest lít! 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 trueft-manner'd, such a holy witch,
That he enchants societies into him :
Half all men's hearts are his.
Imo. You make amends.
Jach. He fits 'mong men, like a defcended God: He hath a kind of honour fets him off, More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry, Most mighty Princess, that I have adventur'd To try your taking of a false report; which hath Honour'd with confirmation your great judgment, In the election of a Sir, so rare, Which, you know, cannot err. The love I bear him, Made me to fan you thus; but the Gods made ycu, VOL. VII.
Unlike all others, chaffless. Pray, your pardon.
Imo. All's well, Sir; take my pow'r i'th'court for
lacb. My humble thanks; I had almost forgot
T' intreat your Grace but in a small request,
of moment too, for it concerns Your Lord; myself, and other noble friends Are partners in the business.
Imo. Pray, what is't?
Iach. Some dozen Romans of us, and your Lord, (Best 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 great; And I am something curious, being strange, To have them in safe stowage : may it please you To take them in protection?
And pawn mine honour for their safety. Since
My Lord hath int'rest in them, I will keep them
In my bed-chamber,
lach. 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.
Iacb. Yes, I beseech you: or I shall short my word, By length’ning my return. From Gallia, I crossd the seas on purpose, and on promise To see your Grace.
Imo. I thank you for your pains ;
But not away to morrow?
lach. 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 my time, which is material