Imo. I false? Thy Conscience witnesse: Iachimo, Thou didd"st accuse him of Incontinencie, Thou then look"dst like a Villaine: now, me thinkes Thy fauours good enough. Some Iay of Italy (Whose mother was her painting) hath betraid him: Poore I am stale, a Garment out of fashion, And for I am richer then to hang by th" walles, I must be ript: To peeces with me: Oh!
Mens Vowes are womens Traitors. All good seeming By thy reuolt (oh Husband) shall be thought Put on for Villainy; not borne where"t growes, But worne a Baite for Ladies
Pisa. Good Madam, heare me
Imo. True honest men being heard, like false Aeneas, Were in his time thought false: and Synons weeping Did scandall many a holy teare: tooke pitty From most true wretchednesse. So thou, Posthumus Wilt lay the Leauen on all proper men; Goodly, and gallant, shall be false and periur"d From thy great faile: Come Fellow, be thou honest, Do thou thy Masters bidding. When thou seest him, A little witnesse my obedience. Looke I draw the Sword my selfe, take it, and hit The innocent Mansion of my Loue (my Heart:) Feare not, "tis empty of all things, but Greefe: Thy Master is not there, who was indeede The riches of it. Do his bidding, strike, Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause; But now thou seem"st a Coward
Pis. Hence vile Instrument, Thou shalt not d.a.m.ne my hand
Imo. Why, I must dye: And if I do not by thy hand, thou art No Seruant of thy Masters. Against Selfe-slaughter, There is a prohibition so Diuine, That crauens my weake hand: Come, heere"s my heart: Something"s a-foot: Soft, soft, wee"l no defence, Obedient as the Scabbard. What is heere, The Scriptures of the Loyall Leonatus, All turn"d to Heresie? Away, away Corrupters of my Faith, you shall no more Be Stomachers to my heart: thus may pooru Fooles Beleeue false Teachers: Though those that are betraid Do feele the Treason sharpely, yet the Traitor Stands in worse case of woe. And thou Posthumus, That didd"st set vp my disobedience "gainst the King My Father, and makes me put into contempt the suites Of Princely Fellowes, shalt heereafter finde It is no acte of common pa.s.sage, but A straine of Rarenesse: and I greeue my selfe, To thinke, when thou shalt be disedg"d by her, That now thou tyrest on, how thy memory Will then be pang"d by me. Prythee dispatch, The Lambe entreats the Butcher. Wher"s thy knife?
Thou art too slow to do thy Masters bidding When I desire it too
Pis. Oh gracious Lady: Since I receiu"d command to do this businesse, I haue not slept one winke
Imo. Doo"t, and to bed then
Pis. Ile wake mine eye-balles first
Imo. Wherefore then Didd"st vndertake it? Why hast thou abus"d So many Miles, with a pretence? This place?
Mine Action? and thine owne? Our Horses labour?
The Time inuiting thee? The perturb"d Court For my being absent? whereunto I neuer Purpose returne. Why hast thou gone so farre To be vn-bent? when thou hast "tane thy stand, Th" elected Deere before thee?
Pis. But to win time To loose so bad employment, in the which I haue consider"d of a course: good Ladie Heare me with patience
Imo. Talke thy tongue weary, speake: I haue heard I am a Strumpet, and mine eare Therein false strooke, can take no greater wound, Nor tent, to bottome that. But speake
Pis. Then Madam, I thought you would not backe againe
Imo. Most like, Bringing me heere to kill me
Pis. Not so neither: But if I were as wise, as honest, then My purpose would proue well: it cannot be, But that my Master is abus"d. Some Villaine, I, and singular in his Art, hath done you both This cursed iniurie
Imo. Some Roman Curtezan?
Pisa. No, on my life: Ile giue but notice you are dead, and send him Some b.l.o.o.d.y signe of it. For "tis commanded I should do so: you shall be mist at Court, And that will well confirme it
Imo. Why good Fellow, What shall I do the while? Where bide? How liue?
Or in my life, what comfort, when I am Dead to my Husband?
Pis. If you"l backe to"th" Court
Imo. No Court, no Father, nor no more adoe With that harsh, n.o.ble, simple nothing: That Clotten, whose Loue-suite hath bene to me As fearefull as a Siege
Pis. If not at Court, Then not in Britaine must you bide
Imo. Where then?
Hath Britaine all the Sunne that shines? Day? Night?
Are they not but in Britaine? I"th" worlds Volume Our Britaine seemes as of it, but not in"t: In a great Poole, a Swannes-nest, prythee thinke There"s liuers out of Britaine
Pis. I am most glad You thinke of other place: Th" Amba.s.sador, Lucius the Romane comes to Milford-Hauen To morrow. Now, if you could weare a minde Darke, as your Fortune is, and but disguise That which t" appeare it selfe, must not yet be, But by selfe-danger, you should tread a course Pretty, and full of view: yea, happily, neere The residence of Posthumus; so nie (at least) That though his Actions were not visible, yut Report should render him hourely to your eare, As truely as he mooues
Imo. Oh for such meanes, Though perill to my modestie, not death on"t I would aduenture
Pis. Well then, heere"s the point: You must forget to be a Woman: change Command, into obedience. Feare, and Nicenesse (The Handmaides of all Women, or more truely Woman it pretty selfe) into a waggish courage, Ready in gybes, quicke-answer"d, sawcie, and As quarrellous as the Weazell: Nay, you must Forget that rarest Treasure of your Cheeke, Exposing it (but oh the harder heart, Alacke no remedy) to the greedy touch Of common-kissing t.i.tan: and forget Your laboursome and dainty Trimmes, wherein You made great Iuno angry
Imo. Nay be breefe?
I see into thy end, and am almost A man already
Pis. First, make your selfe but like one, Fore-thinking this. I haue already fit ("Tis in my Cloake-bagge) Doublet, Hat, Hose, all That answer to them: Would you in their seruing, (And with what imitation you can borrow From youth of such a season) "fore n.o.ble Lucius Present your selfe, desire his seruice: tell him Wherein you"re happy; which will make him know, If that his head haue eare in Musicke, doubtlesse With ioy he will imbrace you: for hee"s Honourable, And doubling that, most holy. Your meanes abroad: You haue me rich, and I will neuer faile Beginning, nor supplyment
Imo. Thou art all the comfort The G.o.ds will diet me with. Prythee away, There"s more to be consider"d: but wee"l euen All that good time will giue vs. This attempt, I am Souldier too, and will abide it with A Princes Courage. Away, I prythee
Pis. Well Madam, we must take a short farewell, Least being mist, I be suspected of Your carriage from the Court. My n.o.ble Mistris, Heere is a boxe, I had it from the Queene, What"s in"t is precious: If you are sicke at Sea, Or Stomacke-qualm"d at Land, a Dramme of this Will driue away distemper. To some shade, And fit you to your Manhood: may the G.o.ds Direct you to the best
Imo. Amen: I thanke thee.
Exeunt.
Scena Quinta.
Enter Cymbeline, Queene, Cloten, Lucius, and Lords.
Cym. Thus farre, and so farewell
Luc. Thankes, Royall Sir: My Emperor hath wrote, I must from hence, And am right sorry, that I must report ye My Masters Enemy
Cym. Our Subiects (Sir) Will not endure his yoake; and for our selfe To shew lesse Soueraignty then they, must needs Appeare vn-Kinglike
Luc. So Sir: I desire of you A Conduct ouer Land, to Milford-Hauen.
Madam, all ioy befall your Grace, and you
Cym. My Lords, you are appointed for that Office: The due of Honor, in no point omit: So farewell n.o.ble Lucius
Luc. Your hand, my Lord
Clot. Receiue it friendly: but from this time forth I weare it as your Enemy
Luc. Sir, the Euent Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well
Cym. Leaue not the worthy Lucius, good my Lords Till he haue crost the Seuern. Happines.
Exit Lucius, &c Qu. He goes hence frowning: but it honours vs That we haue giuen him cause
Clot. "Tis all the better, Your valiant Britaines haue their wishes in it
Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the Emperor How it goes heere. It fits vs therefore ripely Our Chariots, and our Hors.e.m.e.n be in readinesse: The Powres that he already hath in Gallia Will soone be drawne to head, from whence he moues His warre for Britaine
Qu. "Tis not sleepy businesse, But must be look"d too speedily, and strongly
Cym. Our expectation that it would be thus Hath made vs forward. But my gentle Queene, Where is our Daughter? She hath not appear"d Before the Roman, nor to vs hath tender"d The duty of the day. She looke vs like A thing more made of malice, then of duty, We haue noted it. Call her before vs, for We haue beene too slight in sufferance
Qu. Royall Sir, Since the exile of Posthumus, most retyr"d Hath her life bin: the Cure whereof, my Lord, "Tis time must do. Beseech your Maiesty, Forbeare sharpe speeches to her. Shee"s a Lady So tender of rebukes, that words are stroke; And strokes death to her.