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Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616

"Cymbeline"

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
Iach. Yes I beseech: or I shall short my word
By length'ning my returne. From Gallia,
I crost the Seas on purpose, and on promise
To see your Grace
Imo. I thanke you for your paines:
But not away to morrow
Iach. O I must Madam.
Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please
To greet your Lord with writing, doo't to night,
I haue out-stood my time, which is materiall
To'th' tender of our Present
Imo. I will write:
Send your Trunke to me, it shall safe be kept,
And truely yeelded you: you're very welcome.
Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.
Enter Clotten, and the two Lords.
Clot. Was there euer man had such lucke? when I kist
the Iacke vpon an vp-cast, to be hit away? I had a hundred
pound on't: and then a whorson Iacke-an-Apes,
must take me vp for swearing, as if I borrowed mine
oathes of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure
1.


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