Cymbeline
Page 9
PISANIO Alas, good lady.
INNOGEN I false? Thy conscience witness46: Iachimo,
Thou didst accuse him of incontinency.47
Thou then looked’st like a villain: now methinks
Thy favour’s good enough. Some jay49 of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting50, hath betrayed him:
Poor I am stale51, a garment out of fashion,
And for I am richer than to hang by th’walls52,
I must be ripped53: to pieces with me! O,
Men’s vows are women’s traitors. All good seeming54,
By thy revolt55, O husband, shall be thought
Put on for villainy; not born where’t grows56,
But worn a bait57 for ladies.
PISANIO Good madam, hear me.
INNOGEN True honest men being heard like false Aeneas59
Were in his time thought false: and Sinon’s60 weeping
Did scandal many a holy tear, took pity61
From most true wretchedness. So thou, Posthumus,
Wilt lay the leaven63 on all proper men;
Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjured
To Pisanio
From thy great fail.65— Come, fellow, be thou honest,
Do thou thy master’s bidding. When thou see’st him,
A little witness67 my obedience. Look,
Draws sword and gives it to Pisanio
I draw the sword myself: take it, and hit
The innocent mansion69 of my love, my heart.
Fear not, ’tis empty of all things but grief:
Thy master is not there, who was indeed
The riches of it. Do his bidding, strike.
Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause,
But now thou seem’st a coward.
PISANIO Hence, vile instrument75,
Throws away sword
Thou shalt not damn my hand!
INNOGEN Why, I must die:
And if I do not by thy hand, thou art
No servant of thy master’s. Against self-slaughter79
There is a prohibition so divine
That cravens81 my weak hand. Come, here’s my heart:
Something’s afore’t: soft, soft, we’ll no defence82,
Obedient as the scabbard.83 What is here?
Takes letters from her bosom
The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus84,
All turned to heresy? Away, away,
Throws letters away
Corrupters of my faith86, you shall no more
Be stomachers87 to my heart! Thus may poor fools
Believe false teachers: though those that are betrayed
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
Stands in worse case of woe.90 And thou, Posthumus,
That didst set up91 my disobedience gainst the king
My father, and make me put into contempt the suits92
Of princely93 fellows, shalt hereafter find
It is no act of common passage, but94
A strain of rareness: and I grieve myself
To think, when thou shalt be disedged96 by her
That now thou tirest97 on, how thy memory
Will then be panged by me. Prithee dispatch98,
The lamb entreats the butcher. Where’s thy knife?
Thou art too slow to do thy master’s bidding
When I desire it too.
PISANIO O gracious lady:
Since I received command to do this business
I have not slept one wink.
INNOGEN Do’t, and to bed then.
PISANIO I’ll wake mine eyeballs out first.106
INNOGEN Wherefore then
Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abused108
So many miles with a pretence? This place?
Mine action and thine own? Our horses’ labour?
The time inviting thee?111 The perturbed court
For my being absent, whereunto112 I never
Purpose113 return? Why hast thou gone so far
To be unbent when thou hast ta’en thy stand114,
Th’elected115 deer before thee?
PISANIO But to win time
To lose so bad employment, in the which
I have considered of a course118: good lady,
Hear me with patience.
INNOGEN Talk thy tongue weary, speak:
I have heard I am a strumpet121, and mine ear,
Therein false struck, can take122 no greater wound,
Nor tent to bottom123 that. But speak.
PISANIO Then, madam,
I thought you would not back125 again.
INNOGEN Most like126,
Bringing me here to kill me.
PISANIO Not so, neither:
But if I were as wise as honest, then
My purpose would prove130 well: it cannot be
But that my master is abused.131 Some villain,
Ay, and singular132 in his art, hath done you both
This cursèd injury.
INNOGEN Some Roman courtesan.134
PISANIO No, on my life:
I’ll give but notice you are dead, and send him
Some bloody sign of it, for ’tis commanded
I should do so: you shall be missed at court,
And that will well confirm it.
INNOGEN Why, good fellow,
What shall I do the while? Where bide?141 How live?
Or in my life what comfort, when I am
Dead to my husband?
PISANIO If you’ll back to th’court—
INNOGEN No court, no father, nor no more ado
With that harsh, noble, simple nothing,
That Cloten, whose love-suit hath been to me
As fearful as a siege.
PISANIO If not at court,
Then not in Britain must you bide.
INNOGEN Where then?
Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day? Night?
Are they not but in Britain? I’th’world’s volume153
Our Britain seems as of it, but not in’t:
In a great pool a swan’s nest.155 Prithee, think
There’s livers156 out of Britain.
PISANIO I am most glad
You think of other place: th’ambassador,
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford Haven
Tomorrow. Now, if you could wear a mind160
Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
That162 which, t’appear itself, must not yet be
But by self-danger163, you should tread a course
Pretty and full of view: yea, haply164, near
The residence of Posthumus; so nigh165, at least,
That though his actions were not visible, yet
Report should render167 him hourly to your ear
As truly as he moves.
INNOGEN O, for such means,
Though peril to my modesty, not death on’t170,
I would adventure.171
PISANIO Well then, here’s the point:
You must forget to be a woman: change
Command into obedience, fear and niceness174 —
The handmaids175 of all women, or more truly
Woman it pretty self — into a waggish176 courage,
Ready in gibes, quick-answered177, saucy and
As quarrellous178 as the weasel: nay, you must
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek179,
Exposing it — but O, the harder heart!
Alack, no remedy — to the greedy touch
Of common-kissing Titan182, and forget
Your laboursome and dainty trims183, wherein
You made great Juno184 angry.
INNOGEN Nay, be brief.
I see into thy end186,
and am almost
A man already.
PISANIO First, make yourself but like one.
Forethinking this, I have already fit189 —
↓Gives a bag of clothes↓
’Tis in my cloak-bag — doublet, hat, hose190, all
That answer to them: would you in their serving191,
And with what imitation you can borrow
From youth of such a season193, ’fore noble Lucius
Present yourself, desire his service194: tell him
Wherein you’re happy — which will make him know195,
If that his head have ear in music196 — doubtless
With joy he will embrace you, for he’s honourable,
And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad198:
You have me rich, and I will never fail
Beginning nor supplyment.200
INNOGEN Thou art all the comfort
The gods will diet202 me with. Prithee away,
There’s more to be considered: but we’ll even203
All that good time will give us. This attempt
I am soldier to, and will abide205 it with
A prince’s courage. Away, I prithee.
PISANIO Well, madam, we must take a short207 farewell,
Lest being missed, I be suspected of
Your carriage209 from the court. My noble mistress,
Here is a box, I had it from the queen,
What’s in’t is precious: if you are sick at sea,
Or stomach-qualmed at land, a dram of this
Will drive away distemper. To some shade213,
And fit you214 to your manhood: may the gods
Direct you to the best.
INNOGEN Amen: I thank thee.
Exeunt
Act 3 Scene 5
running scene 10
Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, Lucius and Lords
CYMBELINE Thus far1, and so farewell.
LUCIUS Thanks, royal sir:
My emperor hath wrote, I must from hence,
And am right sorry that I must report ye
My master’s enemy.
CYMBELINE Our subjects, sir,
Will not endure his yoke; and for ourself7
To show less sovereignty than they, must needs8
Appear unkinglike.
LUCIUS So10, sir: I desire of you
A conduct11 over land, to Milford Haven.
Madam, all joy befall12 your grace, and you.
CYMBELINE My lords, you are appointed for that office13:
The due of honour in no point14 omit.
So farewell, noble Lucius.
LUCIUS Your hand, my lord.
CLOTEN Receive it friendly: but from this time forth
I wear it as your enemy.
LUCIUS Sir, the event19
Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well.
CYMBELINE Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords,
Till he have crossed the Severn.22 Happiness.
Exeunt Lucius and others
QUEEN He goes hence frowning: but it honours us23
That we have given him cause.24
CLOTEN ’Tis all the better,
Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.
CYMBELINE Lucius hath wrote already to the emperor
How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely28
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness:
The powers that he already hath in Gallia
Will soon be drawn to head31, from whence he moves
His war for Britain.
QUEEN ’Tis not sleepy business,
But must be looked to speedily and strongly.
CYMBELINE Our expectation that it would be thus
Hath made us forward.36 But, my gentle queen,
Where is our daughter? She hath not appeared
Before the Roman, nor to us hath tendered
The duty of the day. She looks us39 like
A thing more made of malice than of duty,
We have noted it. Call her before us, for
We have been too slight in sufferance.42
[Exit one or more]
QUEEN Royal sir,
Since the exile of Posthumus, most retired44
Hath her life been: the cure whereof, my lord,
’Tis time must do. Beseech your majesty,
Forbear47 sharp speeches to her. She’s a lady
So tender of48 rebukes that words are strokes,
And strokes death to her.
Enter a Messenger
CYMBELINE Where is she, sir? How
Can her contempt be answered?51
MESSENGER Please you, sir,
Her chambers are all locked, and there’s no answer
That will be given to th’loud’st of noise we make.
QUEEN My lord, when last I went to visit her,
She prayed me to excuse her keeping close56,
Whereto constrained by her infirmity57,
She should that duty leave unpaid to you
Which daily she was bound to proffer59: this
She wished me to make known, but our great court
Made me to blame in memory.
CYMBELINE Her doors locked?
Not seen of late? Grant heavens that which I fear
Prove false.
Exit
QUEEN Son, I say, follow the king.
CLOTEN That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant
I have not seen these two days.
Exit
QUEEN Go, look after.—
Pisanio, thou that stand’st so for69 Posthumus!
He hath a drug of mine: I pray his absence
Proceed by71 swallowing that, for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her,
Where is she gone? Haply73 despair hath seized her:
Or, winged with fervour of her love, she’s flown
To her desired Posthumus: gone she is
To death or to dishonour, and my end76
Can make good use of either. She being down,
I have the placing78 of the British crown.—
Enter Cloten
How now, my son?
CLOTEN ’Tis certain she is fled:
Go in and cheer the king, he rages, none
Dare come about him.
Aside
QUEEN All the better: may
This night forestall him of the coming day.84
Exit Queen
CLOTEN I love and hate her: for85 she’s fair and royal,
And that she hath all courtly parts86 more exquisite
Than lady, ladies, woman — from every one87
The best she hath, and she, of all compounded88,
Outsells89 them all — I love her therefore: but
Disdaining me, and throwing favours on
The low Posthumus, slanders91 so her judgement
That what’s else rare92 is choked: and in that point
I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed,
To be revenged upon her. For when fools shall—
Enter Pisanio
Who is here?— What, are you packing, sirrah?95
Come hither: ah, you precious pander!96 Villain,
Where is thy lady? In a word, or else
Threatens him
Thou art straightway with the fiends.98
PISANIO O, good my lord!
CLOTEN Where is thy lady? Or, by Jupiter,
I will not ask again. Close101 villain,
I’ll have this secret from thy heart, or rip
Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus,
From whose so many weights104 of baseness cannot
A dram105 of worth be drawn?
PISANIO Alas, my lord,
How can she be with him? When was she missed?
He is in Rome.
CLOTEN Where is she, sir? Come nearer109:
No further halting: satisfy me home110,
What is become of her?
PISANIO O my all-worthy lord!
CLOTEN All-worthy villain,
Discover114 where thy mistress is at once,
At the next word: no more of ‘worthy lord!’
Speak, or thy silence on the instant is
Thy condemnation and thy death.
PISANIO Then, sir,
This paper is the history of my knowledge
Shows a letter
Touching120 her flight.
CLOTEN Let’s see’t: I will pursue her
Even to Augustus’ throne.
Aside
PISANIO Or this, or perish.123
She’s far enough, and what he learns by this
May prove his travel125, not her danger.
CLOTEN Hum!
Aside
PISANIO I’ll write to my lord she’s dead: O Innogen,
Safe mayst thou wander, safe return again!
CLOTEN Sirrah, is this letter true?
PISANIO Sir, as I think.
CLOTEN It is Posthumus’ hand, I know’t. Sirrah, if thou
wouldst not be a villain, but do me true service, undergo132
those employments133 wherein I should have cause to use thee
with a serious industry134, that is, what villainy soe’er I bid thee
do, to perform it directly and truly, I would think thee an
honest man: thou shouldst neither want136 my means for thy
relief, nor my voice for thy preferment.137
PISANIO Well, my good lord.
CLOTEN Wilt thou serve me? For since patiently and
constantly thou hast stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar
Posthumus, thou canst not in the course of gratitude but141 be
a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou serve me?
PISANIO Sir, I will.
CLOTEN Give me thy hand, here’s my purse. Hast144 any of thy
late145 master’s garments in thy possession?
PISANIO I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit he wore
when he took leave of my lady and mistress.
CLOTEN The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit hither:
let it be thy first service, go.
PISANIO I shall, my lord.