« PreviousContinue »
Hear me with patience.
Imo. Talk thy tongue weary, speak,
I've heard I am a strumpet; and mine ear
(Therein falle struck) can take no greater wound,
Nor tent to bottom that. But speak.
Pif. Then, Madam,
I thought you would not back again.
Imo. Most like,
Bringing me here to kill me.
Pif. Not so neither;
But if I were as wife as honest, then
My purpose would prove well ; it cannot be,
But that my master is abus'd; some villain,
And fingular in his art, hath done you both:
This cursed injury.
Imo. Some Roman courtezan
Pif. No, on my life.
I'll give him notice you are dead, and send him
Some bloody sign of it: for 'tis commanded
I should do so. You shall be miss'd at court,
And that will well confirm it.
Imo. Why, good fellow,
What shall I do the while? where. 'bide? how live?:
Or in my life what comfort, when I am:
Dead to my husband ?
Pif. If you'll back to th'court
Imo. No court, no father ; nor no more ado,
With that harsh, noble, fimple, nothing, Cloten;
That Cloten, whose love-suit hath been to me:
As fearful as a fiege:
Pif. If not at court,
Then not in Britain mult you ’bide.
Imo. Where then ?
Hath Britain all the sun that shines ? day, night,
Are they not but in Britain ? I'th' world's volume:
Our Britain seems as of it, but not in it;
In a great pool, a fwan's nest. Pr’ythee think
There's living out of Britain.
Pif. I'm most glad,
You think of other place : th' ambaffador,
Lucius the Roman, comes to: Milford-haven
To-morsow.. Now, if you could wear a mien
Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
That, which, t appear itself, mult not yet be,
But by self danger ; you should tread a course.
Pretty, and full of view * ; yea, haply, near
The residence of Posthumus; so nigh, at least,
That though his actions were not visible,
Report ihould render him hourly to your ear,
As truly as he moves.
Imo. Oh! for such means,
Thongh peril to my modesty, not death on't
I would adventure.
Pif. Well then, here's the point.
• You must forget to be a woman; change
Command into obedience ; fear and niceness
(The handmaids of all women, or, more trulyo,
· Woman its pretty self) to waggish courage;
Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy, and, ' As quarrellous as the weazel : pay, you must Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek ;
Exposing it (but, oh, the harder hap.!
'Alack, no remedy) to the greedy touch
"Of common-kissing Titan; and forget
"Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein.
• You made great Juno angry:
Ino. Nay, be brief.
I see into thy end, and an almost
A man already.
Pif. First, make yourself but like one
Fore-thinking this, I have already fit,
('is in my cloak-bag), doublet, hat, hose, all
That answer to them. 'Would you in their serving).
And with what imitation you can borrow
From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucias
Present yourself, desire his service, tell him
Wherein you're happy; (which will make him so,
If that his head have ear in music), doubtless
With joy he will embrace you; for he's honourable,
And, doubling that, molt holy. Your means abroad
You have me, rich; and I will never fail.
Beginning, nor supply.
Imo. i hou'rt all the comfort. *16. likely to prove successful..
The gods will diet me with. Pr'ythee, away.
There's more to be consider'd; but we'll even
All that good time will give us. This attempt
I'm soldier to, and will abide it with
A prince's courage. Away, I pr'ythee.
Pif. Well, Madam, we must take a short farewel;
Lest, being miss d, I be suspected of
Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress,
Here is a box; I had it from the Queen,
What's in’t is precious : if you're fick at fea,
Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this
Will drive away distemperto fome fhade,
And fit you to your manhood ; may the gods
Direct you to the best!
Imo. Amen. I thank thee. [Exeunt severally.
SCENE V. Changes to the palace of Cymbeline. Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, Lucius, Lords, and
Cym. Thus far, and so farewel.
Luc. Thanks, Royal Sir.
My Emperor hath wrote, I must from hence ;
And am right forry, that I must report yé
My master's enemy:
Cym. Our subjects, Sir,
Will not endurę his yoke ; and for ourself
To fhew less sovereignty than they, mult needs
Luc. So, Sir. I desire of you
A conduct over land, to. Milford-haven,
Madam, all joy befal your Grace, and you !
Cym. My Lords, you are appointed for that office;
The due of honour in no point omit.
So, farewel, Noble Lucius.
Luc. Your hand, my Lord.
Clot. Receive it friendly; but from this time forth I wear it as your enemy.
Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well,
Gym. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my Lords, Till he have cross'd the Severa. Happiness !
. Lucius, Ga
Queen. He goes hence frowning; but it honours us, That we have giv’n him cause.
Clot. 'Tis all the better ;
Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.
Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the Emperor,
How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely,
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness ;
The powers that he already hath in Gallia,
Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves
His war for Britain.
Queen. 'Tis not deepy business ;
But must be look'd to speedily, and strongly.
Cym. Our expectations that it should be thus,
Hath made us forward. But, my gentle Queen,
Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd
Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd
The duty of the day. She looks as like
A thing more made of malice, chan of duty;
We've noted it. "Call her before us, for
We've been too light in sufferance,
[Exit a Servant.
Queen. Royal Sir,
Since the exile of Posthumus, most retir'd
Hath her life been; the cure whereof, my Lord,
'Tis time must do. 'Beseech your Majesty,
Forbear fharp speeches to her. She's a lady
So tender of rebukes, that words are strokes,
And strokes death to her.
Re-enter the Servant.
Cym. Where is she, sir? how
Can her contempt be answer'd ?
Ser. Please you, Sir,
are all lock'd, and there's no answer That will be given to th’ loudest noise we make.
Queen, My Lord, when lalt I went to visit her,
She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close;
Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity,
She should that duty leave unpaid to you,
Which daily she was bound to profer: this
She wish'd me to make known; but our great court
Made me to blame in mem'ry.
Cym. Her doors lock’d?
Not seen of late ? grant heav'ns, that which I fear
Prove false !
[Exit. Queen. Son, I say, follow the King.
Clot That man of her's, Pisanio, brer old servant, I have not seen these two days.
[Exit. Queen. Go, look after
[To'the Servant. Pisanio, thou that stand'it fo for Posthumus! He hath a drug of mine; I pray his absence Proceed by swallowing that; for he believes It is a thing most precious. But for her Where is she gone? haply despair hath siez'd her; Or, wing’d with fervour of her love, she's Aown To her desir'd Posthumus; gone she is To death or to dishonour; and my end Can make good use of either. She being down, I have the placing of the British crown.
How now, my
Clot. 'Tis certain she is hed;
Go in and cheer the King, he rages, none
Dare come about him.
Queen. All the better; may
This night fore-Itall him of the coming day !
Clot. I love and hate her ;-for she's fair and royal,
And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite
Than lady ladies *; winning from each one
The best the hath, and she of all compounded
Outsells them all: I love her therefore. -But,
Disdaining me, and throwing favours on
The low Polthumus, flanders so her judgment,
That what's else rare is chok’d; and in that point
I will conclude to hate her, nay indeed
To be reveng'd upon her. For when fools
S CE NE VI. Enter Pifanio. Who is here? what! are you packing, firrah ? Come hither; ah! you precious pander, villain, Where is thy Lady? in a word, or else
lady is a plural verb, and ladies a noun governed of it.