Jach. It cannot be i'the eye; for apes keys, and mon 'Twixt two such shes, would chatter this way, and Contemn with mows the other: Nor i'the judg ment; For idiots, in this case of favour, would Imo. What is the matter, trow? (That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, The cloyed will That tub both fill'd and running,) ravening first The lamb, longs after for the garbage. Imo. Thus raps you? Are you well? What, dear sir, Jach. Thanks, madam; well :-'Beseech you, sir, desire [To Pisanio. My man's abode where I did leave him : he Is strange and peevish.2 Pis. To give him welcome. I was going, sir, [Exit Pisanio. Imo. Continues well my lord? His health, 'be seech you? lach. 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 Briton 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 The thick sighs from him; whiles the jolly Briton (1) Making mouths. (2) Shy and foolish. (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 free hours languish for Assured 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, Some men are much to blame. Imo. Not he, I hope. Iach. Not he: But yet heaven's bounty towards him might Be us'd more thankfully. In himself, 'tis much; In you,-which I count his, beyond all talents, 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 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, -But I was about to say, enjoy your- 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 are past remedies; or, timely knowing, Iach. My lord, I fear, And himself. Not I, Inclin'd 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. lach. O dearest soul! your cause doth strike my heart With pity, that doth make me sick. A lady Would make the great'st king double! to be partner'd With tomboys,3 hir'd with that self-exhibition4 Which your own coffers yield! with diseas'd ventures, That play with all infirmities for gold, (1) What you seem anxious to utter, and yet withhold. (2) Sovereign command. (4) Allowance, pension. (3) Wantons. Which rottenness can lend nature! such boil'd stuff, Imo. Iach. In your despite, upon your purse? Revenge it. Imo. What ho, Pisanio! Thee and the devil alike.-What ho, Pisanio!- For the most worthiest fit! Give me your pardon. Imo. You make amends. Iach. He sits 'mongst men, like a descended god: He hath a kind of honour sets him off, More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry, Which you know, cannot err: The love I bear him lach. My humble thanks. I had almost forgot To entreat your grace but in a small request, And yet of moment too, for it concerns Your lord; myself, and other noble friends, Imo. Pray, what is't? Iach. Some dozen Romans of us, and your lord (The best feather of our wing,) have mingled sums, To buy a present for the emperor; Which I, the factor for the rest, have done Imo. (1) To fan, is to winnow. (2) A stranger. |