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Of leidgers for her fweet; and which fhe, after,
Except the bend her humour, shall be affured
To tafte of too.

Enter PISANIO and Ladies.

So, fo, well done, well done;

The violets, cowflips, and the primroses,
Bear to my clofet; fare thee well, Pifanio,
Think on my words.

Pif. And fhall do:

[Exeunt Queen and Ladies

But when to my good Lord I prove untrue,
I'll choak myfelf, there's all I'll do for you. [Exit.

SCENE changes to Imogen's Apartment.

Enter IMOGEN alone.

Imo. A father cruel, and a stepdame false,
A foolish fuitor to a wedded lady,

That hath her husband banished — O, that husband!
My fupreme crown of grief, and those repeated
Vexations of it----Had I been thief-stolen,

As my two brothers, happy! (9) but most miferable

-but most miferable

(9)Is the defire that's glorious. Though this connects perfectly well both with what goes before, and what follows, yes it is obfcure enough to deserve a fhort comment. "Her huf "band, he fays, proves her fupreme grief. She had been "happy, had he been ftolen as her brothers were: but 66 now the is most miferable, as all thofe are who have a fenfe of worth and honour fuperiour to the vulgar: for "this occafions them infinite vexations with the worthless "and envious part of mankind. Had the not had fo refi"ned a taste, as to be only contented with the fuperior

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merits of a Pofthumus, but could have taken up with a "Cloten, fhe might have efcaped all these vexations. This elegance of tafte, that always discovers an excellence, and "chufes it, fhe calls with the utmost stretch of the fublime, the defire that's glorious.” Mr Warburton,

Is the defire that's glorious. Bleffed be thofe, How mean foe'er, that have their honeft wills, Which feafons comfort. Who may this be? fy! Enter PISANIO and IACHIMO.

Pif. Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome Comes from my Lord with letters.

Iach. Change you, Madam? The worthy Leonatus is in fafety, And greets your Highness dearly. Imo. Thanks, good Sir,

You're kindly welcome.

Iach. All of her that is out of door, most rich!

If the be furnished with a mind fo rare,

She is alone the Arabian bird; and I

[Afide.

Have loft the wager. Boldness be my friend!
Arm me, audacity, from head to foot:

Or like the Parthian, I fhall flying fight,
Rather directly fly.

Imogen reads.

"He is one of the nobleft note, to whofe kind"neffes I am moft infinitely tied. Reflect upon "him accordingly, as you value your trust.

So far I read aloud:

"Leonatus."

But even the very middle of my heart

Is warmed by the reft, 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.

Iach. Thanks, faireft Lady-----

What! are men mad? hath Nature given them eyes To fee this vaulted arch, and the rich crop

Of fea and land, which can diftinguish 'twixt

The fiery orbs above, (10) and the twinned ftones
Upon the unnumbered beach? and can we not
Partition make with fpectacles fo precious
'Twixt fair and foul?

Imo. What makes your admiration?

Iach. It cannot be in the eye; (for apes and monkeys,

'Twixt two such she's, would chatter this way, and Contemn with mowes the other :) nor i' th' judge(For idcots, in this cafe of favour, would [ment; Be wifely definite :) nor i' th' appetite:

(Sluttery, to fuch neat excellence oppofed,
(11) Should make defire vomit emptinefs,
Not fo allured to feed.)

Ing. What is the matter, trow?
Iach. The cloyed will,

(10)-

and the twinned ftones

Upon the numbered beach.] I have no idea in what fenfe the beach or fhore fhould be called numbered. I have ventured, against all the copies, to fubftitute,

Upon th' unnumbered beach

e. the infinite, extenfive beach, if we are to understand the epithet as coupled to that word. But I rather think the Poet intended an hypallage, like that in the beginning of Ovid's Metamorphefes :

(In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas
Corpora.)

And then we are to understand the paffage thus:
" and the
"infinite number of twinned stones upon the beach." The
Poet has given them the fame epithet before, in his Lear.
-The murmuring furge,

That on th' unnumbered idle pebbles chafes,

Cannot be heard fo far.

(11) Should make defire vomit even emptiness.] None of the old books acknowledge this monofyllable, even; and therefore I have cafhiered it. Mr Pope inferted it; and thought, no doubt, he was doing eminent fervice to the verfe. He did not know, or obferve, that the Poet intended here to make defire a trifyllable; as he perpetually almoft extends fire and hour, in fcanfion, to two fyllables.

2

That fatiate, yet unfatisfied defire, (that tub, Both filled and running;) ravening first the lamb, Longs after for the garbage-----

Imo. What, dear Sir,

Thus raps you? are you well?

Iach. Thanks, Madam, well---'Befeech you, Sir,

[To Pifanio. Defire my man's abode where I did leave him;

He's ftrange and peevish.

Pif. I was going, Sir,

To give him welcome.

Imo. Continues well my Lord

His health, 'beseech you?

lach. Well, Madam.

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

Iach. Exceeding pleafant; none a stranger there

So merry and fo gamefome; he is called

The Britain reveller.

Imo. When he was here,

He did incline to fadness, and oft times

Not knowing why.

Iach. I never faw him fad.

There is a Frenchman his companion, one,

An eminent Monfieur, 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, Oh!.

Can my fides hold, to think that man who knows
By hiftory, report, or his own proof,

What woman is, yea, what the cannot chufe
But muft be, will his free hours languish out
For affured bondage?

Imo. Will my Lord fay fo?

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Iach. Ay, Madam, with his eyes in flood with

It is a recreation to be by,

[laughter.

And hear him mock the Frenchman: but Heaven Some men are much to blame.

Imo. Not he, I hope.

[knows [him might

Iach. Not he. But yet Heaven's bounty towards Be used more thankfully. In himself 'tis much; In you, whom I count his, beyond all talents; Whilft I am bound to wonder, I am bound To pity too.

Ime. What do you pity, Sir?

lach. Two creatures heartily.

Into. Am I one, Sir?

You look on me; what wreck difcern you in me, Deferves your pity?

Iach. Lamentable! what.!

To hide me from the radiant fun, and folace
I' th' dungeon by a fnuff?

Imo. I pray you, Sir,

Deliver with more opennefs your answers
To my demands. Why do you pity me?
Iach. That others do,

I was about to fay, enjoy your

-but

It is an office of the gods to venge it,

Not mine to fpeak on't.

Imo. You do feem to know

Something of me, or what concerns me; pray you,
(Since doubting things go ill, often hurts more
Than to be fure they do; for certainties
Or are past remedies, or timely knowing,
The remedy then born;) difcover to me
What both you spur and stop.

Iach. Had I this cheek

To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whofe touch,
Whofe every touch would force the feeler's foul
To th' oath of loyalty; this object, which
Takes prifoner the wild motion of mine eye,
Fixing it only here; fhould I (damned then)

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