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An Antechamber to IMOGEN's Apartment.
Enter Cloten, the Two LORDS, MUSICIANS, us
Cloten. Come on, tune first a very excellent good conceited thing, after a wonderful sweet air, with admirable rich words to it, and then let her consider.
Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phæbus 'gins arise,
On chalic'd flowers that lies;
To ope their golden eyes ;
My lady sweet arise ;
Cloten. So, get you gone :--if this penetrate, I will consider your music the better; if it do not, it is a vice in her ears, which horse-hairs, and cats'-guts, nor the voice of eunuch to boot, can never amend. Come, now to our dancing.
Enter DANCERS. And if she is immoveable with this, she is an immoveable princess, and not worth my
A Dance of MASKERS. Cloten. Leave us to ourselves. [Exeunt Lords, 8C. If she be up, I'll speak with her; if not, Let her lie still, and dream.—By your leave, ho!
Helen. That's more
Cloten. Your lady's person: Is she ready?
report. Helen. How? my good name? or to report of you What I shall think is good? The princess
Cloten. Good morrow,
fairest sister: Your sweet hand.
Imog. Good-morrow, sir: You lay out too much
pains For purchasing but trouble.
Cioten. Still, I swear, I love you.
Imog. If you but said so, 'twere as deep with me :
Cloten. This is no answer.
best kindness; one of your great knowing Should learn, being taught, forbearance.
Cloten. To leave you in your madness,'t were my sini I will not.
Imog. Fools cure not mad folks.
Imog. As I am mad, I do:
you. Cloten. The contract you pretend with that base
Imog. Profane fellow!
Cloten. The south fog rot him !
Imog. He never can meet more mischance, than To be but nam’d of thee. His meanest garment, That ever hath but clipp'd his body, is dearer,
In my respect, than all the hairs above thee,
Cloten. How now?
[Misses her Bracelet. Cloten. His garment? Now, the devil
Enter PISANIO. Imog. To Helena, my woman, hie thee presentlyCloten. His garment ?
Imog. I am sprited with a fool ;
Pisanio. "Twill not be lost.
[Erit. Cloten. I'll be reveng'd :His meanest garment :
[Erit. ACT THE THIRD.
An Apartment in PHILARIO's House.
Enter Posthumus and PHILARIO.
Phil. What means do you make to him?
Post. Not any; but abide the change of time; Quake in the present winter's state, and wish That warmer days would come: In these fear'd
Phil. Your very goodness, and your company,
Post. I do believe