I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure, Imo. 140 So long attended thee. If thou wert honorable, Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not 140-210. Concerning the art with which the character of Imogen is worked out, especially in her interview with Iachimo, Mr. Richard Grant White, in his Shakespeare's Scholar, has some thoughts so just and so well put, that we are unwilling to forego the benefit of them. "The firm, undallying chastity," says he, "of Imogen is indicated with unsurpassable tact and skill in this scene. She is slow to understand Iachimo; but the moment he makes his proposition plainly, before a word of anger or surprise passes her lips, she calls for the faithful servant of her lord, to remove him who has insulted her and his friend's honour. Then her indignation bursts from her; but again and again she interrupts its flow with 'What, ho! Pisanio!' She holds no question with him who made such a proposition to her; enters into no dispute of why or wherefor: she seeks nothing but the instantaneous removal of the man who has dared to attempt her chastity. Not only does she refuse all consideration of the right or wrong of the proposition, but the mere proposal changes, on the moment, all previous relations between her and the proposer, although they were established by her husband himself. It is not until her pure soul, as quick to believe good as it was slow to imagine evil, is quieted by the entire withdrawal of Iachimo's advances, and the assignment of a comprehensible, though not excusable reason for them, that she ceases to call for him who is in some sort the representative of her husband. An exquisite touch of the master's hand occurs in a single pronoun in the succeeding speech of Imogen. Born a princess, she has given herself to Posthumus, a nameless man, as freely as if she were a peasant's daughter; and she is remarkable, with all her dignity, for her unassuming deportment: but the insult of Iachimo stings her into pride, and, for the first and only time, she takes her state, and speaks of herself in the plural number. She says, 'to expound his mind,' not to me, but 'to us.'"-H. N. H. For such an end thou seek'st, as base as strange. 150 Thee and the devil alike. What ho, Pisanio! The king my father shall be made acquainted Of thy assault: if he shall think it fit A saucy stranger in his court to mart As in a Romish stew, and to expound His beastly mind to us, he hath a court He little cares for, and a daughter who He not respects at all. What ho, Pisanio! Iach. O happy Leonatus! I may say: The credit that thy lady hath of thee Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect good ness Her assured credit. Blessed live you long! 160 Country call'd his! and you his mistress, only I have spoke this to know if your affiance Imo. You make amends.. Iach. He sits 'mongst men like a descended god: He hath a kind of honor sets him off, More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry, 170 157. "The credit"; the faith Imogen has in her husband's in tegrity.-C. H. H. Most mighty princess, that I have adventured ment In the election of a sir so rare, Which you know cannot err. The love I bear him Made me to fan you thus, but, the gods made you, Unlike all others, chaffless. Pray, your pardon. Imo. All's well, sir: take my power i' the court for yours. Iach. My humble thanks. I had almost forgot 180 Imo. Pray, what is 't? Iach. Some dozen Romans of us, and your lordThe best feather of our wing-have mingled sums To buy a present for the emperor; Which I, the factor for the rest, have done Imo. Willingly; Iach. They are in a trunk, Imo. O, no, no. Iach. Yes, I beseech; or I shall short my word 200 Imo. I thank you for your pains: But not away to-morrow! Iach. O, I must, madam: Imo. I will write. Send your trunk to me; it shall safe be kept 209 And truly yielded you. You're very welcome. [Exeunt. ACT SECOND SCENE I Britain. Before Cymbeline's palace. Enter Cloten and two Lords. Clo. Was there ever man had such luck! when I kissed the jack, upon an up-cast to be hit away! I had a hundred pound on 't: and then a whoreson jackanapes must take me up for swearing; as if I borrowed mine oaths of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure. First Lord. What got he by that? You have broke his pate with your bowl. Sec. Lord. [Aside] If his wit had been like 10 him that broke it, it would have run all out. Clo. When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths, ha? Sec. Lord. No, my lord; [Aside] nor crop the Clo. Whoreson dog! I give him satisfaction? Sec. Lord. [Aside] To have smelt like a fool. |