Authors: William Shakespeare
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
close
56
,
Whereto constrained by her infirmity
57
,
She should that duty leave unpaid to you
Which daily she was bound to
proffer
59
: 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 for
69
Posthumus!
He hath a drug of mine: I pray his absence
Proceed by
71
swallowing that, for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her,
Where is she gone?
Haply
73
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
end
76
Can make good use of either. She being down,
I have the
placing
78
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
:
for
85
she’s fair and royal,
And
that
she hath all courtly
parts
86
more exquisite
Than lady, ladies, woman —
from every one
87
The best she hath, and she, of all
compounded
88
,
Outsells
89
them all — I love her therefore: but
Disdaining me, and throwing favours on
The low Posthumus,
slanders
91
so her judgement
That what’s else
rare
92
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.
Close
101
villain,
I’ll have this secret from thy heart, or rip
Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus,
From whose so many
weights
104
of baseness cannot
A
dram
105
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 nearer
109
:
No further
halting
: satisfy me
home
110
,
What is become of her?
PISANIO
O my all-worthy lord!
CLOTEN
All-worthy villain,
Discover
114
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
Aside
PISANIO
Or this, or perish.
123
She’s far enough, and what he learns by this
May prove his
travel
125
, 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,
undergo
132
those
employments
133
wherein I should have cause to use thee
with a
serious
industry
134
, 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
want
136
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
but
141
be
a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou serve me?
PISANIO
Sir, I will.
CLOTEN
Give me thy hand, here’s my purse.
Hast
144
any of thy
late
145
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.
Exit
CLOTEN
Meet thee at Milford Haven! — I forgot to ask him
one thing, I’ll remember’t anon. — Even there, thou villain
Posthumus, will I kill thee. I would these garments were
come. She said
upon a time
154
— the bitterness of it I now belch
from my heart — that she held the very garment of
Posthumus in more respect than my noble and natural
person, together with the adornment of my qualities. With
that suit upon my back will I ravish her: first kill him, and in
her eyes
159
; there shall she see my valour, which will then be a
torment to her contempt. He on the ground, my speech of
insultment
161
ended on his dead body, and when my lust hath
dined — which, as I say, to vex her I will execute in the
clothes that she so praised — to the court I’ll
knock
163
her back,
foot
164
her home again. She hath despised me rejoicingly, and
I’ll be merry in my revenge.—
Enter Pisanio
With Posthumus’ clothes
Be those the garments?
PISANIO
Ay, my noble lord.
CLOTEN
How long is’t since she went to Milford Haven?
PISANIO
She can scarce be there yet.
CLOTEN
Bring this apparel to my chamber. That is the
second thing that I have commanded thee. The third is that
thou wilt be a
voluntary mute
172
to my design. Be but duteous,
and true preferment shall
tender
173
itself to thee. My revenge is
now at Milford: would I had wings to follow it. Come, and be
true.
Exit
PISANIO
Thou bid’st me
to my loss
176
: for true to thee
Were to prove false, which I will never be,
To
him that is most true.
178
To Milford go,
And find not her whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow,
You heavenly blessings, on her. This fool’s speed
Be
crossed
with slowness; labour be his
meed.
181
Exit
running scene 11
Enter Innogen alone
In boy’s clothes
INNOGEN
I see a man’s life is a tedious one:
I have
tired
2
myself, and for two nights together
Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick,
But that my resolution helps me. Milford,
When from the mountain-top Pisanio showed thee,
Thou wast within a
ken.
6
O Jove, I think
Foundations fly the wretched
7
: such, I mean,
Where they should be relieved. Two beggars told me
I could not miss my way. Will poor folks lie,
That have afflictions on them, knowing ’tis
A punishment or
trial?
11
Yes; no wonder,
When rich ones
scarce
tell true. To
lapse in fullness
12
Is
sorer
13
than to lie for need, and falsehood
Is worse in kings than beggars. My dear lord,
Thou art
on
15
e o’th’false ones. Now I think on thee
My hunger’s gone; but
even before
16
, I was
At point
17
to sink for food. But what is this?
Here is a path to’t: ’tis some savage
hold
18
:
I
were best
19
not call; I dare not call: yet famine,
Ere clean it o’erthrow nature
20
, makes it valiant.
Plenty and peace breeds cowards:
hardness ever
21
Of hardiness is mother. Ho! Who’s here?
If anything that’s civil, speak: if savage,
Take or lend.
24
Ho! No answer? Then I’ll enter.
Best
25
draw my sword; and if mine enemy
Draws
But fear the sword like me, he’ll scarcely look on’t.
Exit
[
into the cave
]
Enter Belarius, Guiderius and Arviragus
BELARIUS
You, Polydore, have proved best
woodman
28
and
Are master of the feast: Cadwal and I
Will play the cook and servant: ’tis our
match.
30
The sweat of industry would dry and die
31
But for the end it works to. Come, our stomachs
Will make what’s
homely
33
savoury: weariness
Can snore upon the
flint
when
resty sloth
34
Finds the
down
35
pillow hard. Now peace be here,
Poor house, that
keep’st thyself.
36
GUIDERIUS
I am
throughly
37
weary.
ARVIRAGUS
I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite.
GUIDERIUS
There is cold meat i’th’cave, we’ll
browse
39
on that
Whilst what we have killed be cooked.
Looks into the cave
BELARIUS
Stay; come not in:
But that
it eats our
victuals
42
, I should think
Here were a fairy.
GUIDERIUS
What’s the matter, sir?
BELARIUS
By Jupiter, an angel! Or if not,
An earthly
paragon.
46
Behold divineness
No elder than a boy.
Enter Innogen
INNOGEN
Good masters, harm me not:
Before I entered here, I called, and thought
To have begged or bought what I have took:
good troth
50
,
I have stol’n
nought
51
, nor would not, though I had found
Gold strewed
i’th’floor.
52
Here’s money for my meat: