Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt
The fiery orbs above, and the twinned stones
Upon the numbered beach?1 and can we not
Partition make with spectacles so precious
'Twixt fair and foul?

Imo.

What makes your admiration? Iach. 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 favor, would

2

Be wisely definite: nor i'the appetite;
Sluttery, to such neat excellence opposed,
Should make desire vomit emptiness,
Not so allured to feed.3

Imo. What is the matter, trow?
Iach.

That satiate yet unsatisfied desire,

The cloyed will,

That tub both filled and running,) ravening first
The lamb, longs after for the garbage.

Imo.

Thus raps you? Are you well?

What, dear sir,

[TO PISANIO.

Iach. Thanks, madam; well.-'Beseech you, sir,

desire

My man's abode where I did leave him: he

Is strange and peevish.*

Pis.

To give him welcome.

I was going, sir,

[Exit PISANIO.

Imo. Continues well my lord? His health, beseech

you?

Iach. Well, madam.

1 We must either believe that the Poet, by "numbered beach," means "numerous beach," or else that he wrote "th' unnumbered beach;" which, indeed, seems most probable.

2 To mow or moe, is to make mouths.

3 Iachimo has shown how the eyes and the judgment would determine in favor of Imogen; comparing her with the supposititious present mistress of Posthumus, he proceeds to say, that appetite too would give the same suffrage. Desire (says he) when it approached sluttery, and considered it in comparison with such neat excellence, would not only be not so allured to feed, but, seized with a fit of loathing, would vomit emptiness, would feel the convulsions of disgust, though, being unfed, it had no object. 4 i. e. he is a foreigner, and foolish, or silly.

Imo. Is he disposed to mirth? I hope he is. Iach. Exceeding pleasant; none a stranger there So merry and so gamesome. He is called

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,

An eminent monsieur, that, it seems, much loves
A Gallian girl at home. He furnaces

1

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?

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 used 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?

Jach. Two creatures, heartily.

2

Imo.

You look on me.

Am I one, sir?

What wreck discern you in me,

Deserves your pity?

1 We have the same expression in Chapman's preface to his translation of the Shield of Homer, 1598:-" Furnaceth the universal sighes and complaintes of this transposed world."

2 If he merely regarded his own character, without any consideration of his wife, his conduct would be unpardonable."

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,

I was about to say, enjoy your-
It is an office of the gods to venge it,
Not mine to speak on't.

Imo.

-But

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,' The remedy then born,) discover to me What both you spur and stop.2

Had I this cheek

Iach.
To bathe my lips upon; this hand, whose touch,
Whose every touch, would force the feeler's soul
To the oath of loyalty; this object, which
Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye,
Fixing it only here; should I (damned then)
Slaver with lips as common as the stairs
That mount the Capitol; join gripes with hands
Made hard with hourly falsehood,3 (falsehood, as
With labor;) then lie peeping in an eye,
Base and unlustrous as the smoky light
That's fed with stinking tallow; it were fit,
That all the plagues of hell should at one time
Encounter such revolt.

1 It seems probable that knowing is here an error of the press for known.

2The information which you seem to press forward and yet withhold." The allusion is to horsemanship.

3 Hard with falsehood is hard by being often griped with frequent change of hands.

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.

Iach. O dearest soul! your cause doth strike my

heart

With pity, that doth make me sick. A lady
So fair, and fastened to an empery,1

Would make the greatest king double! to be partnered
With tomboys, hired with that self-exhibition

Which your own coffers yield! with diseased ventures,
That play with all infirmities for gold,

Which rottenness can lend nature! such boiled stuff,3
As well might poison poison! Be revenged;
Or she that bore you was no queen, and you
Recoil from your great stock.

Imo.

Revenged!

How should I be revenged? If this be true,
(As I have such a heart, that both mine ears
Must not in haste abuse,) if it be true,
How should I be revenged?

Iach.

Should he make me

Live, like Diana's priest, betwixt cold sheets;
Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps,

In

your despite, upon your purse? Revenge it.
I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure;
More noble than that runagate to your bed;
And will continue fast to your affection,
Still close, as sure.

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 honorable, Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not For such an end thou seek'st; as base, as strange.

1 Empery is a word signifying sovereign command; now obsolete. 2 We still call a forward or rude hoyden a tomboy. But our ancestors seem to have used the term for a wanton.

3 This alludes to an ancient process of scalding, or parboiling, to cure a certain disease. See Randle Holme, Storehouse of Armory, b. 3. p. 441.