| |
A Bedchamber; in one part of it a Trunk. | |
| |
IMOGEN reading in her bed; a Lady attending. | |
| Imo. Who’s there? my woman Helen? | |
| Lady. Please you, madam. | |
| Imo. What hour is it? | 5 |
| Lady. Almost midnight, madam. | |
| Imo. I have read three hours then; mine eyes are weak; | |
| Fold down the leaf where I have left; to bed: | |
| Take not away the taper, leave it burning, | |
| And if thou canst awake by four o’ the clock, | 10 |
| I prithee, call me. Sleep has seized me wholly. [Exit Lady. | |
| To your protection I commend me, gods! | |
| From fairies and the tempters of the night | |
| Guard me, beseech ye! [Sleeps. IACHIMO comes from the trunk. | |
| Iach. The crickets sing, and man’s o’erlabour’d sense | 15 |
| Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus | |
| Did softly press the rushes ere he waken’d | |
| The chastity he wounded. Cytherea, | |
| How bravely thou becom’st thy bed! fresh lily, | |
| And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch! | 20 |
| But kiss: one kiss! Rubies unparagon’d, | |
| How dearly they do ’t! ’Tis her breathing that | |
| Perfumes the chamber thus; the flame of the taper | |
| Bows toward her, and would under-peep her lids, | |
| To see the enclosed lights, now canopied | 25 |
| Under these windows, white and azure lac’d | |
| With blue of heaven’s own tinct. But my design, | |
| To note the chamber: I will write all down: | |
| Such and such pictures; there the window; such | |
| Th’ adornment of her bed; the arras, figures, | 30 |
| Why, such and such; and the contents o’ the story. | |
| Ah! but some natural notes about her body, | |
| Above ten thousand meaner moveables | |
| Would testify, to enrich mine inventory. | |
| O sleep! thou ape of death, lie dull upon her; | 35 |
| And be her senses but as a monument | |
| Thus in a chapel lying. Come off, come off;— [Taking off her bracelet. | |
| As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard! | |
| ’Tis mine; and this will witness outwardly, | |
| As strongly as the conscience does within, | 40 |
| To the madding of her lord. On her left breast | |
| A mole cinque-spotted, like the crimson drops | |
| I’ the bottom of a cowslip: here’s a voucher; | |
| Stronger than ever law could make: this secret | |
| Will force him think I have pick’d the lock and ta’en | 45 |
| The treasure of her honour. No more. To what end? | |
| Why should I write this down, that’s riveted, | |
| Screw’d to my memory? She hath been reading late | |
| The tale of Tereus; here the leaf’s turn’d down | |
| Where Philomel gave up. I have enough: | 50 |
| To the trunk again, and shut the spring of it. | |
| Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that dawning | |
| May bare the raven’s eye! I lodge in fear; | |
| Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here. [Clock strikes. | |
| One, two, three: time, time! [Goes into the trunk. The scene closes. | 55 |
| |
