Cymbeline Read online

  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.