Cymbeline

1 Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, Lucius and Lords.
2 CYMBELINE.
3 Thus far, and so farewell.
4 LUCIUS.
5 Thanks, royal sir.
6 My emperor hath wrote; I must from hence,
7 And am right sorry that I must report ye
8 My master’s enemy.
9 CYMBELINE.
10 Our subjects, sir,
11 Will not endure his yoke; and for ourself
12 To show less sovereignty than they, must needs
13 Appear unkinglike.
14 LUCIUS.
15 So, sir. I desire of you
16 A conduct overland to Milford Haven.
17 Madam, all joy befall your Grace, and you!
18 CYMBELINE.
19 My lords, you are appointed for that office;
20 The due of honour in no point omit.
21 So farewell, noble Lucius.
22 LUCIUS.
23 Your hand, my lord.
24 CLOTEN.
25 Receive it friendly; but from this time forth
26 I wear it as your enemy.
27 LUCIUS.
28 Sir, the event
29 Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well.
30 CYMBELINE.
31 Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords,
32 Till he have cross’d the Severn. Happiness!
33 [_Exeunt Lucius and Lords._]
34 QUEEN.
35 He goes hence frowning; but it honours us
36 That we have given him cause.
37 CLOTEN.
38 ’Tis all the better;
39 Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.
40 CYMBELINE.
41 Lucius hath wrote already to the Emperor
42 How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely
43 Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness.
44 The pow’rs that he already hath in Gallia
45 Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves
46 His war for Britain.
47 QUEEN.
48 ’Tis not sleepy business,
49 But must be look’d to speedily and strongly.
50 CYMBELINE.
51 Our expectation that it would be thus
52 Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen,
53 Where is our daughter? She hath not appear’d
54 Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender’d
55 The duty of the day. She looks us like
56 A thing more made of malice than of duty;
57 We have noted it. Call her before us, for
58 We have been too slight in sufferance.
59 [_Exit an Attendant._]
60 QUEEN.
61 Royal sir,
62 Since the exile of Posthumus, most retir’d
63 Hath her life been; the cure whereof, my lord,
64 ’Tis time must do. Beseech your Majesty,
65 Forbear sharp speeches to her; she’s a lady
66 So tender of rebukes that words are strokes,
67 And strokes death to her.
68 Enter Attendant.
69 CYMBELINE.
70 Where is she, sir? How
71 Can her contempt be answer’d?
72 ATTENDANT.
73 Please you, sir,
74 Her chambers are all lock’d, and there’s no answer
75 That will be given to th’ loud of noise we make.
76 QUEEN.
77 My lord, when last I went to visit her,
78 She pray’d me to excuse her keeping close;
79 Whereto constrain’d by her infirmity
80 She should that duty leave unpaid to you
81 Which daily she was bound to proffer. This
82 She wish’d me to make known; but our great court
83 Made me to blame in memory.
84 CYMBELINE.
85 Her doors lock’d?
86 Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that which I fear
87 Prove false!
88 [_Exit._]
89 QUEEN.
90 Son, I say, follow the King.
91 CLOTEN.
92 That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant,
93 I have not seen these two days.
94 QUEEN.
95 Go, look after.
96 [_Exit Cloten._]
97 Pisanio, thou that stand’st so for Posthumus!
98 He hath a drug of mine. I pray his absence
99 Proceed by swallowing that; for he believes
100 It is a thing most precious. But for her,
101 Where is she gone? Haply despair hath seiz’d her;
102 Or, wing’d with fervour of her love, she’s flown
103 To her desir’d Posthumus. Gone she is
104 To death or to dishonour, and my end
105 Can make good use of either. She being down,
106 I have the placing of the British crown.
107 Enter Cloten.
108 How now, my son?
109 CLOTEN.
110 ’Tis certain she is fled.
111 Go in and cheer the King. He rages; none
112 Dare come about him.
113 QUEEN.
114 All the better. May
115 This night forestall him of the coming day!
116 [_Exit._]
117 CLOTEN.
118 I love and hate her; for she’s fair and royal,
119 And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite
120 Than lady, ladies, woman. From every one
121 The best she hath, and she, of all compounded,
122 Outsells them all. I love her therefore; but
123 Disdaining me and throwing favours on
124 The low Posthumus slanders so her judgement
125 That what’s else rare is chok’d; and in that point
126 I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed,
127 To be reveng’d upon her. For when fools
128 Shall—
129 Enter Pisanio.
130 Who is here? What, are you packing, sirrah?
131 Come hither. Ah, you precious pandar! Villain,
132 Where is thy lady? In a word, or else
133 Thou art straightway with the fiends.
134 PISANIO.
135 O good my lord!
136 CLOTEN.
137 Where is thy lady? or, by Jupiter—
138 I will not ask again. Close villain,
139 I’ll have this secret from thy heart, or rip
140 Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus?
141 From whose so many weights of baseness cannot
142 A dram of worth be drawn.
143 PISANIO.
144 Alas, my lord,
145 How can she be with him? When was she miss’d?
146 He is in Rome.
147 CLOTEN.
148 Where is she, sir? Come nearer.
149 No farther halting! Satisfy me home
150 What is become of her.
151 PISANIO.
152 O my all-worthy lord!
153 CLOTEN.
154 All-worthy villain!
155 Discover where thy mistress is at once,
156 At the next word. No more of ‘worthy lord’!
157 Speak, or thy silence on the instant is
158 Thy condemnation and thy death.
159 PISANIO.
160 Then, sir,
161 This paper is the history of my knowledge
162 Touching her flight.
163 [_Presenting a letter._]
164 CLOTEN.
165 Let’s see’t. I will pursue her
166 Even to Augustus’ throne.
167 PISANIO.
168 [_Aside._] Or this or perish.
169 She’s far enough; and what he learns by this
170 May prove his travel, not her danger.
171 CLOTEN.
172 Humh!
173 PISANIO.
174 [_Aside._] I’ll write to my lord she’s dead. O Imogen,
175 Safe mayst thou wander, safe return again!
176 CLOTEN.
177 Sirrah, is this letter true?
178 PISANIO.
179 Sir, as I think.
180 CLOTEN.
181 It is Posthumus’ hand; I know’t. Sirrah, if thou wouldst not be a
182 villain, but do me true service, undergo those employments wherein I
183 should have cause to use thee with a serious industry—that is, what
184 villainy soe’er I bid thee do, to perform it directly and truly—I would
185 think thee an honest man; thou shouldst neither want my means for thy
186 relief nor my voice for thy preferment.
187 PISANIO.
188 Well, my good lord.
189 CLOTEN.
190 Wilt thou serve me? For since patiently and constantly thou hast stuck
191 to the bare fortune of that beggar Posthumus, thou canst not, in the
192 course of gratitude, but be a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou
193 serve me?
194 PISANIO.
195 Sir, I will.
196 CLOTEN.
197 Give me thy hand; here’s my purse. Hast any of thy late master’s
198 garments in thy possession?
199 PISANIO.
200 I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit he wore when he took
201 leave of my lady and mistress.
202 CLOTEN.
203 The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit hither. Let it be thy
204 first service; go.
205 PISANIO.
206 I shall, my lord.
207 [_Exit._]
208 CLOTEN.
209 Meet thee at Milford Haven! I forgot to ask him one thing; I’ll
210 remember’t anon. Even there, thou villain Posthumus, will I kill thee.
211 I would these garments were come. She said upon a time—the bitterness
212 of it I now belch from my heart—that she held the very garment of
213 Posthumus in more respect than my noble and natural person, together
214 with the adornment of my qualities. With that suit upon my back will I
215 ravish her; first kill him, and in her eyes. There shall she see my
216 valour, which will then be a torment to her contempt. He on the ground,
217 my speech of insultment ended on his dead body, and when my lust hath
218 dined—which, as I say, to vex her I will execute in the clothes that
219 she so prais’d—to the court I’ll knock her back, foot her home again.
220 She hath despis’d me rejoicingly, and I’ll be merry in my revenge.
221 Enter Pisanio with the clothes.
222 Be those the garments?
223 PISANIO.
224 Ay, my noble lord.
225 CLOTEN.
226 How long is’t since she went to Milford Haven?
227 PISANIO.
228 She can scarce be there yet.
229 CLOTEN.
230 Bring this apparel to my chamber; that is the second thing that I have
231 commanded thee. The third is that thou wilt be a voluntary mute to my
232 design. Be but duteous and true, preferment shall tender itself to
233 thee. My revenge is now at Milford, would I had wings to follow it!
234 Come, and be true.
235 [_Exit._]
236 PISANIO.
237 Thou bid’st me to my loss; for true to thee
238 Were to prove false, which I will never be,
239 To him that is most true. To Milford go,
240 And find not her whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow,
241 You heavenly blessings, on her! This fool’s speed
242 Be cross’d with slowness! Labour be his meed!
243 [_Exit._]