Iach. Had I this cheeke To bathe my lips vpon: this hand, whose touch, (Whose euery touch) would force the Feelers soule To'th' oath of loyalty. This obiect, which Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye, Fiering it onely heere, should I (damn'd then) Slauuer with lippes as common as the stayres That mount the Capitoll: Ioyne gripes, with hands Made hard with hourely falshood (falshood as With labour:) then by peeping in an eye Base and illustrious as the smoakie light That's fed with stinking Tallow: it were fit That all the plagues of Hell should at one time Encounter such reuolt

Imo. My Lord, I feare Has forgot Brittaine

Iach. And himselfe, not I Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce The Beggery of his change: but 'tis your Graces That from my mutest Conscience, to my tongue, Charmes this report out

Imo. Let me heare no more

Iach. O deerest Soule: your Cause doth strike my hart With pitty, that doth make me sicke. A Lady So faire, and fasten'd to an Emperie Would make the great'st King double, to be partner'd With Tomboyes hyr'd, with that selfe exhibition Which your owne Coffers yeeld: with diseas'd ventures That play with all Infirmities for Gold, Which rottennesse can lend Nature. Such boyl'd stuffe As well might poyson Poyson. Be reueng'd, Or she that bore you, was no Queene, and you Recoyle from your great Stocke

Imo. Reueng'd: How should I be reueng'd? If this be true, (As I haue such a Heart, that both mine eares Must not in haste abuse) if it be true, How should I be reueng'd? Iach. Should he make me Liue like Diana's Priest, betwixt cold sheets, Whiles he is vaulting variable Rampes In your despight, vpon your purse: reuenge it. I dedicate my selfe to your sweet pleasure, More Noble then that runnagate to your bed, And will continue fast to your Affection, Still close, as sure

Imo. What hoa, Pisanio? Iach. Let me my seruice tender on your lippes

Imo. Away, I do condemne mine eares, that haue So long attended thee. If thou wert Honourable Thou would'st haue told this tale for Vertue, not For such an end thou seek'st, as base, as strange: Thou wrong'st a Gentleman, who is as farre From thy report, as thou from Honor: and Solicites heere a Lady, that disdaines Thee, and the Diuell alike. What hoa, Pisanio? The King my Father shall be made acquainted Of thy Assault: if he shall thinke it fit, A sawcy Stranger in his Court, to Mart As in a Romish Stew, and to expound His beastly minde to vs; he hath a Court He little cares for, and a Daughter, who He not respects at all. What hoa, Pisanio? Iach. O happy Leonatus I may say, The credit that thy Lady hath of thee Deserues thy trust, and thy most perfect goodnesse Her assur'd credit. Blessed liue you long, A Lady to the worthiest Sir, that euer Country call'd his; and you his Mistris, onely For the most worthiest fit. Giue me your pardon, I haue spoke this to know if your Affiance Were deeply rooted, and shall make your Lord, That which he is, new o're: And he is one The truest manner'd: such a holy Witch, That he enchants Societies into him: Halfe all men hearts are his

Imo. You make amends

Iach. He sits 'mongst men, like a defended God; He hath a kinde of Honor sets him off, More then a mortall seeming. Be not angrie (Most mighty Princesse) that I haue aduentur'd To try your taking of a false report, which hath Honour'd with confirmation your great Iudgement, In the election of a Sir, so rare, Which you know, cannot erre. The loue I beare him, Made me to fan you thus, but the Gods made you (Vnlike all others) chaffelesse. Pray your pardon

Imo. All's well Sir: Take my powre i'th' Court for yours

William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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