Enter IMOGEN IMOGEN A father cruel, and a step-dame false;A foolish suitor to a wedded lady, 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 that's glorious: blest be those, How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills, Which seasons comfort. Who may this be? Fie!
Enter PISANIO and IACHIMO PISANIO Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome, Comes from my lord with letters. IACHIMO Change you, madam?
The worthy Leonatus is in safety And greets your highness dearly.
Presents a letter IMOGEN Thanks, good sir:
You're kindly welcome. IACHIMO [Aside] All of her that is out of door most rich!
If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare, She is alone the Arabian bird, and IHave lost the wager. Boldness be my friend!
Arm me, audacity, from head to foot!
Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight;
Rather directly fly. IMOGEN [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--LEONATUS.'
So far I read aloud:
But even the very middle of my heart Is warm'd by the rest, and takes it thankfully.
You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I
Have words to bid you, and shall find it so In all that I can do. IACHIMO Thanks, fairest lady.
What, are men mad? Hath nature given them eyes To see this vaulted arch, and the rich crop Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt The fiery orbs above and the twinn'd stones Upon the number'd beach? and can we not Partition make with spectacles so precious 'Twixt fair and foul? IMOGEN What makes your admiration? IACHIMO 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 judgment, For idiots in this case of favour would Be wisely definite; nor i' the appetite;Sluttery to such neat excellence opposed Should make desire vomit emptiness, Not so allured to feed. IMOGEN What is the matter, trow? IACHIMO The cloyed will, That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, that tub Both fill'd and running, ravening first the lamb Longs after for the garbage. IMOGEN What, dear sir, Thus raps you? Are you well? IACHIMO Thanks, madam; well.
To PISANIO
Beseech you, sir, desire My man's abode where I did leave him: he Is strange and peevish. PISANIO I was going, sir, To give him welcome.
Exit IMOGEN Continues well my lord? His health, beseech you? IACHIMO Well, madam. IMOGEN Is he disposed to mirth? I hope he is. IACHIMO Exceeding pleasant; none a stranger there So merry and so gamesome: he is call'd The Briton reveller. IMOGEN When he was here, He did incline to sadness, and oft-times Not knowing why. IACHIMO I never saw him sad.
There is a Frenchman his companion, one An eminent monsieur, that, it seems, much loves A Gallian girl at home; he furnaces The thick sighs from him, whiles the jolly Briton--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?' IMOGEN Will my lord say so? IACHIMO 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. IMOGEN Not he, I hope. IACHIMO Not he: but yet heaven's bounty towards him might Be used more thankfully. In himself, 'tis much;In you, which I account his beyond all talents, Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound To pity too. IMOGEN What do you pity, sir? IACHIMO Two creatures heartily. IMOGEN Am I one, sir?
