To draw vpon an Exile. O braue Sir,
I would they were in Affricke both together,
My selfe by with a Needle, that I might pricke
The goer backe. Why came you from your Master?
Pisa. On his command: he would not suffer mee
To bring him to the Hauen: left these Notes
Of what commands I should be subiect too,
When't pleas'd you to employ me
Qu. This hath beene
Your faithfull Seruant: I dare lay mine Honour
He will remaine so
Pisa. I humbly thanke your Highnesse
Qu. Pray walke a-while
Imo. About some halfe houre hence,
Pray you speake with me;
You shall (at least) go see my Lord aboord.
For this time leaue me.
Exeunt.
Scena Tertia.
Enter Clotten, and two Lords.
1. Sir, I would aduise you to shift a Shirt; the Violence
of Action hath made you reek as a Sacrifice: where
ayre comes out, ayre comes in: There's none abroad so
wholesome as that you vent
Clot. If my Shirt were bloody, then to shift it.
Haue I hurt him?
2 No faith: not so much as his patience
1 Hurt him? His bodie's a passable Carkasse if he bee
not hurt. It is a through-fare for Steele if it be not hurt
2 His Steele was in debt, it went o'th' Backe-side the
Towne
Clot. The Villaine would not stand me
2 No, but he fled forward still, toward your face
1 Stand you? you haue Land enough of your owne:
But he added to your hauing, gaue you some ground
2 As many Inches, as you haue Oceans (Puppies.)
Clot. I would they had not come betweene vs
2 So would I, till you had measur'd how long a Foole
you were vpon the ground
Clot. And that shee should loue this Fellow, and refuse
mee
2 If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damn'd
1 Sir, as I told you alwayes: her Beauty & her Braine
go not together. Shee's a good signe, but I haue seene
small reflection of her wit
2 She shines not vpon Fooles, least the reflection
Should hurt her
Clot. Come, Ile to my Chamber: would there had
beene some hurt done
2 I wish not so, vnlesse it had bin the fall of an Asse,
which is no great hurt
Clot. You'l go with vs?
1 Ile attend your Lordship
Clot. Nay come, let's go together
2 Well my Lord.
Exeunt.
Scena Quarta.
Enter Imogen, and Pisanio.
Imo. I would thou grew'st vnto the shores o'th' Hauen,
And questioned'st euery Saile: if he should write,
And I not haue it, 'twere a Paper lost
As offer'd mercy is: What was the last
That he spake to thee?
Pisa. It was his Queene, his Queene
Imo. Then wau'd his Handkerchiefe?
Pisa. And kist it, Madam
Imo. Senselesse Linnen, happier therein then I:
And that was all?
Pisa. No Madam: for so long
As he could make me with his eye, or eare,
Distinguish him from others, he did keepe
The Decke, with Gloue, or Hat, or Handkerchife,
Still wauing, as the fits and stirres of's mind
Could best expresse how slow his Soule sayl'd on,
How swift his Ship
Imo. Thou should'st haue made him
As little as a Crow, or lesse, ere left
To after-eye him
Pisa. Madam, so I did
Imo. I would haue broke mine eye-strings;
Crack'd them, but to looke vpon him, till the diminution
Of space, had pointed him sharpe as my Needle:
Nay, followed him, till he had melted from
The smalnesse of a Gnat, to ayre: and then
Haue turn'd mine eye, and wept. But good Pisanio,
When shall we heare from him
Pisa. Be assur'd Madam,
With his next vantage
Imo. I did not take my leaue of him, but had
Most pretty things to say: Ere I could tell him
How I would thinke on him at certaine houres,
Such thoughts, and such: Or I could make him sweare,
The Shees of Italy should not betray
Mine Interest, and his Honour: or haue charg'd him
At the sixt houre of Morne, at Noone, at Midnight,
T' encounter me with Orisons, for then
I am in Heauen for him: Or ere I could,
Giue him that parting kisse, which I had set
Betwixt two charming words, comes in my Father,
And like the Tyrannous breathing of the North,
Shakes all our buddes from growing.
Enter a Lady.
La. The Queene (Madam)
Desires your Highnesse Company
Imo. Those things I bid you do, get them dispatch'd,
I will attend the Queene
Pisa. Madam, I shall.
Exeunt.
Scena Quinta.
Enter Philario, Iachimo: a Frenchman, a Dutchman, and a
Spaniard.
Iach. Beleeue it Sir, I haue seene him in Britaine; hee
was then of a Cressent note, expected to proue so woorthy,
as since he hath beene allowed the name of. But I
could then haue look'd on him, without the help of Admiration,
though the Catalogue of his endowments had
bin tabled by his side, and I to peruse him by Items
Phil. You speake of him when he was lesse furnish'd,
then now hee is, with that which makes him both without,
and within
French. I haue seene him in France: wee had very many
there, could behold the Sunne, with as firme eyes as
hee
Iach. This matter of marrying his Kings Daughter,
wherein he must be weighed rather by her valew, then
his owne, words him (I doubt not) a great deale from the
matter
French. And then his banishment
Iach. I, and the approbation of those that weepe this
lamentable diuorce vnder her colours, are wonderfully
to extend him, be it but to fortifie her iudgement, which
else an easie battery might lay flat, for taking a Begger
without lesse quality. But how comes it, he is to soiourne
with you? How creepes acquaintance?
Phil. His Father and I were Souldiers together, to
whom I haue bin often bound for no lesse then my life.
Enter Posthumus.
Heere comes the Britaine. Let him be so entertained among'st
you, as suites with Gentlemen of your knowing,
to a Stranger of his quality. I beseech you all be better
knowne to this Gentleman, whom I commend to you,
as a Noble Friend of mine. How Worthy he is, I will
leaue to appeare hereafter, rather then story him in his
owne hearing
French. Sir, we haue knowne togither in Orleance
Post. Since when, I haue bin debtor to you for courtesies,
which I will be euer to pay, and yet pay still
French. Sir, you o're-rate my poore kindnesse, I was
glad I did attone my Countryman and you: it had beene
pitty you should haue beene put together, with so mortall
a purpose, as then each bore, vpon importance of so
slight and triuiall a nature
Post. By your pardon Sir, I was then a young Traueller,
rather shun'd to go euen with what I heard, then in
my euery action to be guided by others experiences: but
vpon my mended iudgement (if I offend to say it is mended)
my Quarrell was not altogether slight
French. Faith yes, to be put to the arbiterment of
Swords, and by such two, that would by all likelyhood
haue confounded one the other, or haue falne both
Iach. Can we with manners, aske what was the difference?
French. Safely, I thinke, 'twas a contention in publicke,
which may (without contradiction) suffer the report.
It was much like an argument that fell out last
night, where each of vs fell in praise of our Country-Mistresses.
This Gentleman, at that time vouching (and
vpon warrant of bloody affirmation) his to be more
Faire, Vertuous, Wise, Chaste, Constant, Qualified, and
lesse attemptible then any, the rarest of our Ladies in
Fraunce
Iach. That Lady is not now liuing; or this Gentlemans
opinion by this, worne out
Post. She holds her Vertue still, and I my mind
Iach. You must not so farre preferre her, 'fore ours of
Italy
Posth. Being so farre prouok'd as I was in France: I
would abate her nothing, though I professe my selfe her
Adorer, not her Friend
Iach. As faire, and as good: a kind of hand in hand
comparison, had beene something too faire, and too
good for any Lady in Britanie; if she went before others.
I haue seene as that Diamond of yours out-lusters many
I haue beheld, I could not beleeue she excelled many:
but I haue not seene the most pretious Diamond that is,
nor you the Lady
Post. I prais'd her, as I rated her: so do I my Stone
Iach. What do you esteeme it at?
Post. More then the world enioyes
Iach. Either your vnparagon'd Mistris is dead, or
she's out-priz'd by a trifle
Post. You are mistaken: the one may be solde or giuen,
or if there were wealth enough for the purchases, or
merite for the guift. The other is not a thing for sale,
and onely the guift of the Gods
Iach. Which the Gods haue giuen you?
Post. Which by their Graces I will keepe
Iach. You may weare her in title yours: but you
know strange Fowle light vpon neighbouring Ponds.
Your Ring may be stolne too, so your brace of vnprizeable
Estimations, the one is but fraile, and the other Casuall;
A cunning Thiefe, or a (that way) accomplish'd
Courtier, would hazzard the winning both of first and
last
Post. Your Italy, containes none so accomplish'd a
Courtier to conuince the Honour of my Mistris: if in the
holding or losse of that, you terme her fraile, I do nothing
doubt you haue store of Theeues, notwithstanding
I feare not my Ring
Phil. Let vs leaue heere, Gentlemen?
Post. Sir, with all my heart. This worthy Signior I
thanke him, makes no stranger of me, we are familiar at
first
Iach. With fiue times so much conuersation, I should
get ground of your faire Mistris; make her go backe, euen
to the yeilding, had I admittance, and opportunitie
to friend
Post. No, no
Iach. I dare thereupon pawne the moytie of my Estate,
to your Ring, which in my opinion o're-values it
something: but I make my wager rather against your
Confidence, then her Reputation. And to barre your offence
heerein to, I durst attempt it against any Lady in
the world
Post. You are a great deale abus'd in too bold a perswasion,
and I doubt not you sustaine what y'are worthy
of, by your Attempt
Iach. What's that?
Posth. A Repulse though your Attempt (as you call
it) deserue more; a punishment too
Phi. Gentlemen enough of this, it came in too sodainely,
let it dye as it was borne, and I pray you be better
acquainted
Iach. Would I had put my Estate, and my Neighbors
on th' approbation of what I haue spoke
Post. What Lady would you chuse to assaile?
Iach. Yours, whom in constancie you thinke stands
so safe. I will lay you ten thousands Duckets to your
Ring, that commend me to the Court where your Lady
is, with no more aduantage then the opportunitie of a
second conference, and I will bring from thence, that
Honor of hers, which you imagine so reseru'd
Posthmus. I will wage against your Gold, Gold to
it: My Ring I holde deere as my finger, 'tis part of
it
Iach. You are a Friend, and there in the wiser: if you
buy Ladies flesh at a Million a Dram, you cannot preserue
it from tainting; but I see you haue some Religion
in you, that you feare
Posthu. This is but a custome in your tongue: you
beare a grauer purpose I hope
Iach. I am the Master of my speeches, and would vnder-go
what's spoken, I sweare
Posthu. Will you? I shall but lend my Diamond till
your returne: let there be Couenants drawne between's.
My Mistris exceedes in goodnesse, the hugenesse of your
vnworthy thinking. I dare you to this match: heere's my
Ring
Phil. I will haue it no lay
Iach. By the Gods it is one: if I bring you no sufficient
testimony that I haue enioy'd the deerest bodily
part of your Mistris: my ten thousand Duckets are yours,
so is your Diamond too: if I come off, and leaue her in
such honour as you haue trust in; Shee your Iewell, this
your Iewell, and my Gold are yours: prouided, I haue
your commendation, for my more free entertainment
Post. I embrace these Conditions, let vs haue Articles
betwixt vs: onely thus farre you shall answere, if you
make your voyage vpon her, and giue me directly to vnderstand,
you haue preuayl'd, I am no further your Enemy,
shee is not worth our debate. If shee remaine vnseduc'd,
you not making it appeare otherwise: for your ill
opinion, and th' assault you haue made to her chastity, you
shall answer me with your Sword
Iach. Your hand, a Couenant: wee will haue these
things set downe by lawfull Counsell, and straight away
for Britaine, least the Bargaine should catch colde, and
sterue: I will fetch my Gold, and haue our two Wagers
recorded
Post. Agreed
French. Will this hold, thinke you
Phil. Signior Iachimo will not from it.
Pray let vs follow 'em.
Exeunt.
Scena Sexta.
Enter Queene, Ladies, and Cornelius.
Qu. Whiles yet the dewe's on ground,
Gather those Flowers,
Make haste. Who ha's the note of them?
Lady. I Madam
Queen. Dispatch.
Exit Ladies.
Now Master Doctor, haue you brought those drugges?
Cor. Pleaseth your Highnes, I: here they are, Madam:
But I beseech your Grace, without offence
(My Conscience bids me aske) wherefore you haue
Commanded of me these most poysonous Compounds,
Which are the moouers of a languishing death:
But though slow, deadly
Qu. I wonder, Doctor,
Thou ask'st me such a Question: Haue I not bene
Thy Pupill long? Hast thou not learn'd me how
To make Perfumes? Distill? Preserue? Yea so,
That our great King himselfe doth woo me oft
For my Confections? Hauing thus farre proceeded,
(Vnlesse thou think'st me diuellish) is't not meete
That I did amplifie my iudgement in
Other Conclusions? I will try the forces
Of these thy Compounds, on such Creatures as
We count not worth the hanging (but none humane)
To try the vigour of them, and apply
Allayments to their Act, and by them gather
Their seuerall vertues, and effects
Cor. Your Highnesse
Shall from this practise, but make hard your heart:
Besides, the seeing these effects will be
Both noysome, and infectious
Qu. O content thee.
Enter Pisanio.
Heere comes a flattering Rascall, vpon him
Will I first worke: Hee's for his Master,
And enemy to my Sonne. How now Pisanio?
Doctor, your seruice for this time is ended,
Take your owne way
Cor. I do suspect you, Madam,
But you shall do no harme
Qu. Hearke thee, a word
Cor. I do not like her. She doth thinke she ha's
Strange ling'ring poysons: I do know her spirit,
And will not trust one of her malice, with
A drugge of such damn'd Nature. Those she ha's,
Will stupifie and dull the Sense a-while,
Which first (perchance) shee'l proue on Cats and Dogs,
Then afterward vp higher: but there is
No danger in what shew of death it makes,
More then the locking vp the Spirits a time,
To be more fresh, reuiuing. She is fool'd
With a most false effect: and I, the truer,
So to be false with her
Qu. No further seruice, Doctor,
Vntill I send for thee
Cor. I humbly take my leaue.
Enter.
Qu. Weepes she still (saist thou?)
Dost thou thinke in time
She will not quench, and let instructions enter
Where Folly now possesses? Do thou worke:
When thou shalt bring me word she loues my Sonne,
Ile tell thee on the instant, thou art then
As great as is thy Master: Greater, for
His Fortunes all lye speechlesse, and his name
Is at last gaspe. Returne he cannot, nor
Continue where he is: To shift his being,
Is to exchange one misery with another,
And euery day that comes, comes to decay
A dayes worke in him. What shalt thou expect
To be depender on a thing that leanes?
Who cannot be new built, nor ha's no Friends
So much, as but to prop him? Thou tak'st vp
Thou know'st not what: But take it for thy labour,
It is a thing I made, which hath the King
Fiue times redeem'd from death. I do not know
What is more Cordiall. Nay, I prythee take it,
It is an earnest of a farther good
That I meane to thee. Tell thy Mistris how
The case stands with her: doo't, as from thy selfe;
Thinke what a chance thou changest on, but thinke
Thou hast thy Mistris still, to boote, my Sonne,
Who shall take notice of thee. Ile moue the King
To any shape of thy Preferment, such
As thou'lt desire: and then my selfe, I cheefely,
That set thee on to this desert, am bound
To loade thy merit richly. Call my women.
Exit Pisa.
Thinke on my words. A slye, and constant knaue,
Not to be shak'd: the Agent for his Master,
And the Remembrancer of her, to hold
The hand-fast to her Lord. I haue giuen him that,
Which if he take, shall quite vnpeople her
Of Leidgers for her Sweete: and which, she after
Except she bend her humor, shall be assur'd
To taste of too.
Enter Pisanio, and Ladies.
So, so: Well done, well done:
The Violets, Cowslippes, and the Prime-Roses
Beare to my Closset: Fare thee well, Pisanio.
Thinke on my words.
Exit Qu. and Ladies
Pisa. And shall do:
But when to my good Lord, I proue vntrue,
Ile choake my selfe: there's all Ile do for you.
Enter.
Scena Septima.
Enter Imogen alone.
Imo. A Father cruell, and a Stepdame false,
A Foolish Suitor to a Wedded-Lady,
That hath her Husband banish'd: O, that Husband,
My supreame Crowne of griefe, and those repeated
Vexations of it. Had I bin Theefe-stolne,
As my two Brothers, happy: but most miserable
Is the desires that's glorious. Blessed be those
How meane so ere, that haue their honest wills,
Which seasons comfort. Who may this be? Fye.
Enter Pisanio, and Iachimo.
Pisa. Madam, a Noble Gentleman of Rome,
Comes from my Lord with Letters
Iach. Change you, Madam:
The Worthy Leonatus is in safety,
And greetes your Highnesse deerely
Imo. Thanks good Sir,
You're kindly welcome
Iach. All of her, that is out of doore, most rich:
If she be furnish'd with a mind so rare
She is alone th' Arabian-Bird; and I
Haue lost the wager. Boldnesse be my Friend:
Arme me Audacitie from head to foote,
Or like the Parthian I shall flying fight,
Rather directly fly
Imogen reads. He is one of the Noblest note, to whose
kindnesses I am
most infinitely
tied. Reflect vpon him accordingly, as you value your
trust. Leonatus.
So farre I reade aloud.
But euen the very middle of my heart
Is warm'd by'th' rest, and take it thankefully.
You are as welcome (worthy Sir) as I
Haue words to bid you, and shall finde it so
In all that I can do
Iach. Thankes fairest Lady:
What are men mad? Hath Nature giuen them eyes
To see this vaulted Arch, and the rich Crop
Of Sea and Land, which can distinguish 'twixt
The firie Orbes aboue, and the twinn'd Stones
Vpon the number'd Beach, and can we not
Partition make with Spectacles so pretious
Twixt faire, and foule?
Imo. What makes your admiration?
Iach. It cannot be i'th' eye: for Apes, and Monkeys
'Twixt two such She's, would chatter this way, and
Contemne with mowes the other. Nor i'th' iudgment:
For Idiots in this case of fauour, would
Be wisely definit: Nor i'th' Appetite.
Sluttery to such neate Excellence, oppos'd
Should make desire vomit emptinesse,
Not so allur'd to feed
Imo. What is the matter trow?
Iach. The Cloyed will:
That satiate yet vnsatisfi'd desire, that Tub
Both fill'd and running: Rauening first the Lambe,
Longs after for the Garbage
Imo. What, deere Sir,
Thus rap's you? Are you well?
Iach. Thanks Madam well: Beseech you Sir,
Desire my Man's abode, where I did leaue him:
He's strange and peeuish
Pisa. I was going Sir,
To giue him welcome.
Enter.
Imo. Continues well my Lord?
His health beseech you?
Iach. Well, Madam
Imo. Is he dispos'd to mirth? I hope he is
Iach. Exceeding pleasant: none a stranger there,
So merry, and so gamesome: he is call'd
The Britaine Reueller
Imo. When he was heere
He did incline to sadnesse, and oft times
Not knowing why
Iach. I neuer saw him sad.
There is a Frenchman his Companion, one
An eminent Monsieur, that it seemes much loues
A Gallian-Girle at home. He furnaces
The thicke sighes from him; whiles the iolly Britaine,
(Your Lord I meane) laughes from's free lungs: cries oh,
Can my sides hold, to think that man who knowes
By History, Report, or his owne proofe
What woman is, yea what she cannot choose
But must be: will's free houres languish:
For assured bondage?
Imo. Will my Lord say so?
Iach. I Madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter,
It is a Recreation to be by
And heare him mocke the Frenchman:
But Heauen's know some men are much too blame
Imo. Not he I hope
Iach. Not he:
But yet Heauen's bounty towards him, might
Be vs'd more thankfully. In himselfe 'tis much;
In you, which I account his beyond all Talents.
Whil'st I am bound to wonder, I am bound
To pitty too
Imo. What do you pitty Sir?
Iach. Two Creatures heartyly
Imo. Am I one Sir?
You looke on me: what wrack discerne you in me
Deserues your pitty?
Iach. Lamentable: what
To hide me from the radiant Sun, and solace
I'th' Dungeon by a Snuffe
Imo. I pray you Sir,
Deliuer with more opennesse your answeres
To my demands. Why do you pitty me?
Iach. That others do,
(I was about to say) enioy your- but
It is an office of the Gods to venge it,
Not mine to speake on't
Imo. You do seeme to know
Something of me, or what concernes me; pray you
Since doubting things go ill, often hurts more
Then to be sure they do. For Certainties
Either are past remedies; or timely knowing,
The remedy then borne. Discouer to me
What both you spur and stop
Iach. Had I this cheeke
To bathe my lips vpon: this hand, whose touch,
(Whose euery touch) would force the Feelers soule
To'th' oath of loyalty. This obiect, which
Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye,
Fiering it onely heere, should I (damn'd then)
Slauuer with lippes as common as the stayres
That mount the Capitoll: Ioyne gripes, with hands
Made hard with hourely falshood (falshood as
With labour:) then by peeping in an eye
Base and illustrious as the smoakie light
That's fed with stinking Tallow: it were fit
That all the plagues of Hell should at one time
Encounter such reuolt
Imo. My Lord, I feare
Has forgot Brittaine
Iach. And himselfe, not I
Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce
The Beggery of his change: but 'tis your Graces
That from my mutest Conscience, to my tongue,
Charmes this report out
Imo. Let me heare no more
Iach. O deerest Soule: your Cause doth strike my hart
With pitty, that doth make me sicke. A Lady
So faire, and fasten'd to an Emperie
Would make the great'st King double, to be partner'd
With Tomboyes hyr'd, with that selfe exhibition
Which your owne Coffers yeeld: with diseas'd ventures
That play with all Infirmities for Gold,
Which rottennesse can lend Nature. Such boyl'd stuffe
As well might poyson Poyson. Be reueng'd,
Or she that bore you, was no Queene, and you
Recoyle from your great Stocke
Imo. Reueng'd:
How should I be reueng'd? If this be true,
(As I haue such a Heart, that both mine eares
Must not in haste abuse) if it be true,
How should I be reueng'd?
Iach. Should he make me
Liue like Diana's Priest, betwixt cold sheets,
Whiles he is vaulting variable Rampes
In your despight, vpon your purse: reuenge it.
I dedicate my selfe to your sweet pleasure,
More Noble then that runnagate to your bed,
And will continue fast to your Affection,
Still close, as sure
Imo. What hoa, Pisanio?
Iach. Let me my seruice tender on your lippes
Imo. Away, I do condemne mine eares, that haue
So long attended thee. If thou wert Honourable
Thou would'st haue told this tale for Vertue, not
For such an end thou seek'st, as base, as strange:
Thou wrong'st a Gentleman, who is as farre
From thy report, as thou from Honor: and
Solicites heere a Lady, that disdaines
Thee, and the Diuell alike. What hoa, Pisanio?
The King my Father shall be made acquainted
Of thy Assault: if he shall thinke it fit,
A sawcy Stranger in his Court, to Mart
As in a Romish Stew, and to expound
His beastly minde to vs; he hath a Court
He little cares for, and a Daughter, who
He not respects at all. What hoa, Pisanio?
Iach. O happy Leonatus I may say,
The credit that thy Lady hath of thee
Deserues thy trust, and thy most perfect goodnesse
Her assur'd credit. Blessed liue you long,
A Lady to the worthiest Sir, that euer
Country call'd his; and you his Mistris, onely
For the most worthiest fit. Giue me your pardon,
I haue spoke this to know if your Affiance
Were deeply rooted, and shall make your Lord,
That which he is, new o're: And he is one
The truest manner'd: such a holy Witch,
That he enchants Societies into him:
Halfe all men hearts are his
Imo. You make amends
Iach. He sits 'mongst men, like a defended God;
He hath a kinde of Honor sets him off,
More then a mortall seeming. Be not angrie
(Most mighty Princesse) that I haue aduentur'd
To try your taking of a false report, which hath
Honour'd with confirmation your great Iudgement,
In the election of a Sir, so rare,
Which you know, cannot erre. The loue I beare him,
Made me to fan you thus, but the Gods made you
(Vnlike all others) chaffelesse. Pray your pardon
Imo. All's well Sir:
Take my powre i'th' Court for yours
Iach. My humble thankes: I had almost forgot
T' intreat your Grace, but in a small request,
And yet of moment too, for it concernes:
Your Lord, my selfe, and other Noble Friends
Are partners in the businesse
Imo. Pray what is't?
Iach. Some dozen Romanes of vs, and your Lord
(The best Feather of our wing) haue mingled summes
To buy a Present for the Emperor:
Which I (the Factor for the rest) haue done
In France: 'tis Plate of rare deuice, and Iewels
Of rich, and exquisite forme, their valewes great,
And I am something curious, being strange
To haue them in safe stowage: May it please you
To take them in protection
Imo. Willingly:
And pawne mine Honor for their safety, since
My Lord hath interest in them, I will keepe them
In my Bed-chamber
Iach. They are in a Trunke
Attended by my men: I will make bold
To send them to you, onely for this night:
I must aboord to morrow
Imo. O no, no