Authors: William Shakespeare
Draws sword and gives it to Pisanio
I draw the sword myself: take it, and hit
The innocent
mansion
69
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 instrument
75
,
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-slaughter
79
There is a prohibition so divine
That
cravens
81
my weak hand. Come, here’s my heart:
Something’s
afore’t
:
soft
, soft,
we’ll no defence
82
,
Obedient as the scabbard.
83
What is here?
Takes letters from her bosom
The
scriptures of the loyal Leonatus
84
,
All turned to heresy? Away, away,
Throws letters away
Corrupters of my
faith
86
, you shall no more
Be
stomachers
87
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 up
91
my disobedience gainst the king
My father, and make me put into contempt the
suits
92
Of
princely
93
fellows, shalt hereafter find
It is no act of common passage, but
94
A strain of rareness: and I grieve myself
To think, when thou shalt be
disedged
96
by her
That now thou
tirest
97
on, how thy memory
Will then be
panged
by me.
Prithee
dispatch
98
,
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
abused
108
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,
whereunto
112
I never
Purpose
113
return? Why hast thou gone so far
To
be unbent
when thou hast ta’en thy
stand
114
,
Th’elected
115
deer before thee?
PISANIO
But to win time
To lose so bad employment, in the which
I have considered of a
course
118
: good lady,
Hear me with patience.
INNOGEN
Talk thy tongue weary, speak:
I have heard I am a
strumpet
121
, and mine ear,
Therein false struck
, can
take
122
no greater wound,
Nor
tent
to
bottom
123
that. But speak.
PISANIO
Then, madam,
I thought you would not
back
125
again.
INNOGEN
Most like
126
,
Bringing me here to kill me.
PISANIO
Not so, neither:
But if I were as wise as honest, then
My
purpose would prove
130
well: it cannot be
But that my master is
abused.
131
Some villain,
Ay, and
singular
132
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 volume
153
Our Britain seems as of it, but not in’t:
In a great pool a
swan’s nest.
155
Prithee, think
There’s
livers
156
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 mind
160
Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
That
162
which, t’appear itself, must not yet be
But by
self-danger
163
, you should tread a course
Pretty and full of
view
: yea,
haply
164
, near
The residence of Posthumus; so
nigh
165
, at least,
That though his actions were not visible, yet
Report should
render
167
him hourly to your ear
As truly as he moves.
INNOGEN
O, for such means,
Though peril to my
modesty
, not
death on’t
170
,
I would
adventure.
171
PISANIO
Well then, here’s the point:
You must forget to be a woman: change
Command into obedience
, fear and
niceness
174
—
The
handmaids
175
of all women, or more truly
Woman
it
pretty self — into a
waggish
176
courage,
Ready in gibes
,
quick-answered
177
, saucy and
As
quarrellous
178
as the weasel: nay, you must
Forget
that
rarest treasure of your cheek
179
,
Exposing it — but O, the harder heart!
Alack, no remedy — to the greedy touch
Of
common-kissing Titan
182
, and forget
Your
laboursome and dainty trims
183
, wherein
You made great
Juno
184
angry.
INNOGEN
Nay, be brief.
I see into thy
end
186
, and am almost
A man already.
PISANIO
First, make yourself but like one.
Forethinking
this, I have already
fit
189
—
↓
Gives a bag of clothes
↓
’Tis in my cloak-bag —
doublet
, hat,
hose
190
, all
That
answer to
them: would you
in their serving
191
,
And with what imitation you can borrow
From youth of such a
season
193
, ’fore noble Lucius
Present yourself, desire
his service
194
: tell him
Wherein you’re happy
— which will
make him know
195
,
If that his head have ear in music
196
— doubtless
With joy he will embrace you, for he’s honourable,
And, doubling that, most holy. Your
means abroad
198
:
You have me rich, and I will never fail
INNOGEN
Thou art all the comfort
The gods will
diet
202
me with. Prithee away,
There’s more to be considered: but we’ll
even
203
All that good time will give us. This attempt
I am
soldier to
, and will
abide
205
it with
A prince’s courage. Away, I prithee.
PISANIO
Well, madam, we must take a
short
207
farewell,
Lest being missed, I be suspected of
Your carriage
209
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
shade
213
,
And
fit you
214
to your manhood: may the gods
Direct you to the best.
INNOGEN
Amen: I thank thee.
Exeunt
running scene 10
Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, Lucius and Lords
CYMBELINE
Thus far
1
, 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
ourself
7
To show less sovereignty than they,
must needs
8
Appear unkinglike.
LUCIUS
So
10
, sir: I desire of you
A
conduct
11
over land, to Milford Haven.
Madam, all joy
befall
12
your grace, and you.
CYMBELINE
My lords, you are appointed for that
office
13
:
The due of
honour
in no
point
14
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
event
19
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 us
23
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
ripely
28
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness:
The powers that he already hath in Gallia
Will soon be
drawn to head
31
, 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 us
39
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
retired
44
Hath her life been: the cure whereof, my lord,
’Tis time must do. Beseech your majesty,
Forbear
47
sharp speeches to her. She’s a lady
So
tender of
48
rebukes that words are strokes,
And strokes death to her.