With a most false effect; and I the truer,

So to be false with her.

[Exit.

Queen. Weeps she still, say'st thou? Dost thou think, in time

She will not quench; and let instructións enter
Where folly now possesses? Do thou work:
When thou shalt bring me word, she loves my son,
I'll tell thee, on the instant, thou art then
As great as is thy master: greater; for
His fortunes all lie speechless, and his name
Is at last gasp:

What shalt thou expect,

To be depender on a thing that leans?

Who cannot be new built; nor has no friends,
So much as but to prop him?

[The QUEEN drops the Phial; PISANIO takes

it up.

Thou tak❜st up

Thou know'st not what; but take it for thy labour:
It is a thing I made, which hath the king

Five times redeem'd from death: I do not know
What is more cordial :-Nay, I pr'ythee take it;
It is an earnest of a further good

I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how

The case stands with her; do't as from thyself.
I'll move the king

To any shape of thy preferment, such

As thoul't desire; and then myself, I chiefly,
That set thee on to this desert, am bound
To load thy merit richly.

Think on my words.

[Aside.] I have given him that,

Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her
Of leigers for her sweet; and which she, after,
Except she bend her humour, shall be assur'd
To taste of too.

Fare thee well, Pisanio;
Think on my words.

[Exit.

Pisanio. And shall do ;

But when to my good lord I prove untrue,
I'll choke myself: there's all I'll do for you.
By this he is at Rome, and good Philario,
With open arms, and grateful heart, receives
His friend's reflected image in his son,
Old Leonatus in young Posthumus:
Sweet Imogen, what thou endur'st the while,
Betwixt a father by thy step-dame govern'd;
A mother hourly coining plots; a wooer,
More hateful than the foul expulsion is
Of thy dear husband- -Heaven keep unshaken
That temple, thy fair mind, that thou may'st stand
T'enjoy thy banish'd lord, and this great land!

[Exit,

SCENE II.

Rome.

An Apartment in PHILARIO's House.

PHILARIO, with a Letter, IACHIMO, and LEWIS, discovered.

Iach. Believe it, sir: I have seen him in Britain : he was then of a crescent note; expected to prove so worthy, as since he hath been allowed the name of: but I could then have looked on him without the help of admiration; though the catalogue of his endowments had been tabled by his side, and I to peruse him by items.

Phil. You speak of him when he was less furnished, than now he is.

Lewis. I have seen him in France: we had very

many there, could behold the sun with as firm eyes as he.

Iach. This matter of marrying his king's daughter, (wherein he must be weighed rather by her value than his own,) words him, I doubt not, a great deal from the matter.

Lewis. And then his banishment,

Iach. Ay, and the approbation of those, that weep this lamentable divorce, under her colours, are wonderfully to extend him; be it but to fortify her judgment, which else an easy battery might lay flat, for taking a beggar without more quality. But how comes it, he is to sojourn with you? How creeps acquaintance?

Phil. His father and I were soldiers together; to whom I have been often bound for no less than my life. Here comes the Briton: let him be so entertained amongst you, as suits, with gentlemen of your knowing, to a stranger of his quality.

Enter POSTHUMUS.

-I beseech you all, be better known to this gentleman; whom I commend to you, as a noble friend of mine: how worthy he is, I will leave to appear hereafter, rather than story him in his own hearing.

Lewis. Sir, we have known together in Orleans.

Post. Since when I have been debtor to you for courtesies, which I will be ever to pay, and yet pay still.

Lewis. Sir, you o'er-rate my poor kindness: I was glad I did atone my countryman and you; it had been pity, you should have been put together with so mortal a purpose, as then each bore, upon importance of so slight and trivial a nature.

Post. By your pardon, sir,-I was then a young traveller; but, upon my mended judgment, (if I of

fend not to say it is mended,) my quarrel was not altogether slight.

Lewis. 'Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitrement of swords.

Iach. Can we, with manners, ask what was the difference?

Lewis. Safely, I think; 'twas a contention in public, which may, without contradiction, suffer the report. It was much like an argument that fell out last night, where each of us fell in praise of our country mistresses: this gentleman at that time vouching, (and upon warrant of bloody affirmation,) his to be more fair, virtuous, wise, chaste, constantqualified, and less attemptible, than any the rarest of our ladies in France.

Iach. That lady is not now living; or this gentleman's opinion, by this, worn out.

Post. She holds her virtue still, and I my mind. Iach. You must not so far prefer her 'fore ours of Italy.

Post. Being so far provoked as I was in France, I would abate her nothing; though I profess myself her adorer, not her friend.

Iach. As fair, and as good, (a kind of hand-in-hand comparison,) had been something too fair, and too good, for any lady in Britany. If she went before others I have seen, as that diamond of yours outlustres many I have beheld, I could not but believe she excelled many but I have not seen the most precious diamond that is, nor you the lady.

Post. I praised her, as I rated her: so do I my

stone.

Iach. What do you esteem it at?

Post. More than the world enjoys.

Iach. Either your unparagoned mistress is dead, or she's outprized by a trifle.

Post. You are mistaken; the one may be sold, or

given; if there were wealth enough for the purchase, or merit for the gift: the other is not a thing for sale, and only the gift of the gods.

Iach. Which the gods have given you.

Post. Which, by their graces, I will keep.

Iach. You may wear her in title yours: but, you know, strange fowl light upon neighbouring ponds. Your ring may be stolen too: so, of your brace of unprizeable estimations, the one is but frail, and the other casual; a cunning thief, or a that-way-accomplished courtier, would hazard the winning both of first and last.

Post. Your Italy contains none so accomplished a courtier, to convince the honour of my mistress; if, in the holding or loss of that, you term her frail. I do nothing doubt, you have store of thieves; notwith, standing, I fear not my ring.

Phil. Let us leave here, gentlemen.

Post. Sir, with all my heart. This worthy sig, nior, I thank him, makes no stranger of me; we are familiar at first.

Iach. With five times so much conversation, I should get ground of your fair mistress: make her go back, even to the yielding; had I admittance, and opportunity to friend.

Post. No, no.

Iach. I dare, thereupon, pawn the moiety of my estate to your ring; which, in my opinion, o'ervalues it something: but I make my wager rather against your confidence, than her reputation; and, to bar your offence herein too, I durst attempt it against any lady in the world.

Post. You are a great deal abused in too bold a persuasion; and I doubt not you sustain what you're worthy of, by your attempt.

Iach. What's that?

Post. A repulse: though your attempt, as you call it, deserve more; a punishment too,