Page 465 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4
P. 465
IACHIMO
Well, madam.
IMOGEN
Is he disposed to mirth? I hope he is.
IACHIMO
Exceeding pleasant: none a stranger there,
So merry and so gamesome: he is call’d [60]
The Briton reveller.
IMOGEN
When he was here
He did incline to sadness, and oft-times
Not knowing why.
IACHIMO
I never saw him sad.
There is a Frenchman his companion, one
An eminent monsieur, that, it seems, much loves [65]
A Gallian girl at home. He furnaces
The thick sighs from him; whiles the jolly Briton
(Your lord, I mean) laughs from’s free lungs: cries “O,
Can my sides hold, to think that man, who knows
By history, report, or his own proof, [70]
What woman is, yea what she cannot choose
But must be, will’s free hours languish for
Assured bondage?”
IMOGEN
Will my lord say so?
IACHIMO
Ay, madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter:
It is a recreation to be by [75]
And hear him mock the Frenchman: but heavens know
Some men are much to blame.
