TPTT Cymbeline: ACT III
Introduction
ACT I
ACT II
ACT III
SCENE I. Britain. A hall in Cymbeline's palace.
SCENE II. Another room in the palace.
SCENE III. Wales: a mountainous country with a cave.
SCENE IV. Country near Milford-Haven.
SCENE V. A room in Cymbeline's palace.
SCENE VI. Wales. Before the cave of Belarius.
SCENE VII. Rome. A public place.
ACT IV
ACT V
About the Play
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SCENE IV. Country near Milford-Haven.
Enter PISANIO and IMOGEN
IMOGEN
      Thou told'st me, when we came from horse, the place
      Was near at hand: ne'er long'd my mother so
      To see me first, as I have now. Pisanio! man!
      Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind,
5     That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that sigh
      From the inward of thee? One, but painted thus,
      Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd
      Beyond self-explication: put thyself
      Into a havior of less fear, ere wildness
10    Vanquish my staider senses. What's the matter?
      Why tender'st thou that paper to me, with
      A look untender? If't be summer news,
      Smile to't before; if winterly, thou need'st
      But keep that countenance still. My husband's hand!
15    That drug-damn'd Italy hath out-craftied him,
      And he's at some hard point. Speak, man: thy tongue
      May take off some extremity, which to read
      Would be even mortal to me.
PISANIO
      Please you, read;
20    And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing
      The most disdain'd of fortune.
IMOGEN
      (Reads) 'Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played the
      strumpet in my bed; the testimonies whereof lie
      bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak surmises,
25    but from proof as strong as my grief and as certain
      as I expect my revenge. That part thou, Pisanio,
      must act for me, if thy faith be not tainted with
      the breach of hers. Let thine own hands take away
      her life: I shall give thee opportunity at
30    Milford-Haven. She hath my letter for the purpose
      where, if thou fear to strike and to make me certain
      it is done, thou art the pandar to her dishonour and
      equally to me disloyal.'
PISANIO
      What shall I need to draw my sword? the paper
35    Hath cut her throat already. No, 'tis slander,
      Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
      Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
      Rides on the posting winds and doth belie
      All corners of the world: kings, queens and states,
40    Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
      This viperous slander enters. What cheer, madam?
IMOGEN
      False to his bed! What is it to be false?
      To lie in watch there and to think on him?
      To weep 'twixt clock and clock? if sleep
45    charge nature,
      To break it with a fearful dream of him
      And cry myself awake? that's false to's bed, is it?
PISANIO
      Alas, good lady!
IMOGEN
      I false! Thy conscience witness: Iachimo,
50    Thou didst accuse him of incontinency;
      Thou then look'dst like a villain; now methinks
      Thy favour's good enough. Some jay of Italy
      Whose mother was her painting, hath betray'd him:
      Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion;
55    And, for I am richer than to hang by the walls,
      I must be ripp'd:--to pieces with me!--O,
      Men's vows are women's traitors! All good seeming,
      By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought
      Put on for villany; not born where't grows,
60    But worn a bait for ladies.
PISANIO
      Good madam, hear me.
IMOGEN
      True honest men being heard, like false Aeneas,
      Were in his time thought false, and Sinon's weeping
      Did scandal many a holy tear, took pity
65    From most true wretchedness: so thou, Posthumus,
      Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men;
      Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjured
      From thy great fall. Come, fellow, be thou honest:
      Do thou thy master's bidding: when thou see'st him,
70    A little witness my obedience: look!
      I draw the sword myself: take it, and hit
      The innocent mansion of my love, my heart;
      Fear not; 'tis empty of all things but grief;
      Thy master is not there, who was indeed
75    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!
      Thou shalt not damn my hand.
IMOGEN
80    Why, I must die;
      And if I do not by thy hand, thou art
      No servant of thy master's. Against self-slaughter
      There is a prohibition so divine
      That cravens my weak hand. Come, here's my heart.
85    Something's afore't. Soft, soft! we'll no defence;
      Obedient as the scabbard. What is here?
      The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus,
      All turn'd to heresy? Away, away,
      Corrupters of my faith! you shall no more
90    Be stomachers to my heart. Thus may poor fools
      Believe false teachers: though those that
      are betray'd
      Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
      Stands in worse case of woe.
95    And thou, Posthumus, thou that didst set up
      My disobedience 'gainst the king my father
      And make me put into contempt the suits
      Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find
      It is no act of common passage, but
100   A strain of rareness: and I grieve myself
      To think, when thou shalt be disedged by her
      That now thou tirest on, how thy memory
      Will then be pang'd by me. Prithee, dispatch:
      The lamb entreats the butcher: where's thy knife?
105   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.
IMOGEN
110   Do't, and to bed then.
PISANIO
      I'll wake mine eye-balls blind first.
IMOGEN
      Wherefore then
      Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abused
      So many miles with a pretence? this place?
115   Mine action and thine own? our horses' labour?
      The time inviting thee? the perturb'd court,
      For my being absent? whereunto I never
      Purpose return. Why hast thou gone so far,
      To be unbent when thou hast ta'en thy stand,
120   The elected deer before thee?
PISANIO
      But to win time
      To lose so bad employment; in the which
      I have consider'd of a course. Good lady,
      Hear me with patience.
IMOGEN
125   Talk thy tongue weary; speak
      I have heard I am a strumpet; and mine ear
      Therein false struck, can take no greater wound,
      Nor tent to bottom that. But speak.
PISANIO
      Then, madam,
130   I thought you would not back again.
IMOGEN
      Most like;
      Bringing me here to kill me.
PISANIO
      Not so, neither:
      But if I were as wise as honest, then
135   My purpose would prove well. It cannot be
      But that my master is abused:
      Some villain, ay, and singular in his art.
      Hath done you both this cursed injury.
IMOGEN
      Some Roman courtezan.
PISANIO
140   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 miss'd at court,
      And that will well confirm it.
IMOGEN
145   Why good fellow,
      What shall I do the where? where bide? how live?
      Or in my life what comfort, when I am
      Dead to my husband?
PISANIO
      If you'll back to the court--
IMOGEN
150   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,
155   Then not in Britain must you bide.
IMOGEN
      Where then
      Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night,
      Are they not but in Britain? I' the world's volume
      Our Britain seems as of it, but not in 't;
160   In a great pool a swan's nest: prithee, think
      There's livers out of Britain.
PISANIO
      I am most glad
      You think of other place. The ambassador,
      Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford-Haven
165   To-morrow: now, if you could wear a mind
      Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
      That which, to appear itself, must not yet be
      But by self-danger, you should tread a course
      Pretty and full of view; yea, haply, near
170   The residence of Posthumus; so nigh at least
      That though his actions were not visible, yet
      Report should render him hourly to your ear
      As truly as he moves.
IMOGEN
      O, for such means!
175   Though peril to my modesty, not death on't,
      I would adventure.
PISANIO
      Well, then, here's the point:
      You must forget to be a woman; change
      Command into obedience: fear and niceness--
180   The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
      Woman its pretty self--into a waggish courage:
      Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy and
      As quarrelous as the weasel; nay, you must
      Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,
185   Exposing it--but, O, the harder heart!
      Alack, no remedy!--to the greedy touch
      Of common-kissing Titan, and forget
      Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein
      You made great Juno angry.
IMOGEN
190   Nay, be brief
      I see into thy end, and am almost
      A man already.
PISANIO
      First, make yourself but like one.
      Fore-thinking this, I have already fit--
195   'Tis in my cloak-bag--doublet, hat, hose, all
      That answer to them: would you in their serving,
      And with what imitation you can borrow
      From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucius
      Present yourself, desire his service, tell him
200   wherein you're happy,--which you'll make him know,
      If that his head have ear in music,--doubtless
      With joy he will embrace you, for he's honourable
      And doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad,
      You have me, rich; and I will never fail
205   Beginning nor supplyment.
IMOGEN
      Thou art all the comfort
      The gods will diet me with. Prithee, away:
      There's more to be consider'd; but we'll even
      All that good time will give us: this attempt
210   I am soldier to, and will abide it with
      A prince's courage. Away, I prithee.
PISANIO
      Well, madam, we must take a short farewell,
      Lest, being miss'd, I be suspected of
      Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress,
215   Here is a box; I had it from the queen:
      What's in't is precious; if you are sick at sea,
      Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this
      Will drive away distemper. To some shade,
      And fit you to your manhood. May the gods
220   Direct you to the best!
IMOGEN
      Amen: I thank thee.
Exeunt, severally
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