Pray so ; and, for the ordering your affairs,
To sing them too : "When you do dance, I wish you
A wave o' the sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that ; move still, still so, and own
No other function : Each your doing,
So singular in each, particular,
Crowns what you are doing in the present deeds,
That all your acts are queens.
IMOGENE.
[CYMBELINE, Act II. Scene 2.]
Imo. To your protection I commend me, gods !
From fairies, and the tempters of the night,
Guard me, beseech ye !
[Sleeps. Iachime, from the trunk
Iach. The crickets sing, and man's o'erlabourVl sense
Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus
Did softly press the rushes, ere he waken'd
The chastity he wounded. Cytherea,
How bravely thou becomest thy bed ! fresh lily !
And whiter than the sheets ! That I might touch !
But kiss ; one kiss! Rubies unparagon'd,
How dearly they do 't!—'Tis her breathing that
Perfumes the chamber thus. The flame o' the taper
Bows towards her : and would under-peep her lids,
To see the enclosed lights, now canopied
Under those windows,—white and azure, laced
With blue of heaven's own tinct.
