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