Good morrow to your majesty and to my gracious mother.

Cym.
Attend you here the door of our stern daughter? ^note
Will she not forth?

Clo.

I have assailed her with music ^note, but she vouchsafes no notice.

Cym.
The exile of her minion is too new;
She hath not yet forgot him: some more time
Must wear the print of his remembrance out ^note,
And then she's yours.

Queen.
You are most bound to the king,
Who lets go by no vantages that may
Prefer you to his daughter. Frame yourself
To orderly soliciting, ^note and be friended ^{note note}
With aptness of the season; ^note make denials
Increase your services; so seem as if
You were ^note inspired to do those duties which
You tender to her; that you in all obey her, ^note
Save when command to your dismission tends,
And therein you are senseless.

Clo.
Senseless! not so. Enter ^note a Messenger.

Mess.
So like you, sir, ambassadors from ^note Rome;
The one is ^note Caius Lucius.

Cym.
A worthy fellow,
Albeit he comes on angry purpose now;
But that's no fault of his: we must receive him
According to the honour of his sender;
And towards himself, his ^note goodness forespent on us ^note,
We must extend our notice. Our dear son,
When you have given good morning to your mistress,
Attend the queen and us; we shall have need

To employ you towards this Roman. Come, our queen. ^note [Exeunt all but Cloten. ^{note note}

Clo.
If she be up, I'll speak with her; if not,
Let her lie still and dream. By your leave, ho! [Knocks. ^note
I know her women are about her: what
If I do line one of their hands? ^note 'Tis gold
Which buys ^note admittance; oft it doth; yea, ^note and ^note makes
Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up ^note
Their deer to the stand o' the stealer; and 'tis gold
Which makes the true man ^note kill'd and saves the thief;
Nay, sometime ^note hangs both thief and true man ^note: what
Can it not do and undo? I will make
One of her women lawyer to me, for
I yet not understand the case myself.
By your leave. [Knocks. Enter a Lady.

Lady.
Who's there that knocks?

Clo.
A gentleman.

Lady. ^note
No more? ^note

Clo.
Yes, and a gentlewoman's son.

Lady.
That's more
Than some whose tailors are as dear as yours
Can justly boast of. What's your lordship's pleasure?

Clo.
Your lady's person: is she ready?

Lady. ^note
Ay,
To keep her chamber. ^note

Clo.
There is gold for you;
Sell me your good report. ^note

Lady.
How! my ^note good name? or to report of you
What I shall think is ^note good? ^note The princess! ^note [Exit Lady. ^note Enter Imogen.

Clo.
Good morrow, fairest: sister, your sweet hand.

Imo.
Good morrow, sir. You lay out too much pains
For purchasing but trouble: the thanks I give
Is telling you that I am poor of thanks
And scarce can spare them.

Clo.
Still I swear I love you.

Imo.
If you but said so, 'twere as deep with me:
If you swear still, your recompense is still
That I regard it not.

Clo.
This is no answer.

Imo.
But that you shall not say I yield being silent,
I would not speak. I pray you, spare me: faith,
I shall unfold equal discourtesy
To your best kindness: one of your great knowing
Should learn, being taught, ^note forbearance.

Clo.
To leave you in your madness, 'twere my sin:
I will not ^note.

Imo.
Fools are not ^note mad folks.

Clo.
Do you call me fool?

Imo.
As I am mad, I do:
If you'll be patient ^note, I'll no more be mad;
That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir,
You put me to forget a lady's manners,
By being so verbal: and learn now for all
That I, which ^note know my heart, do here pronounce,
By the very truth of it, I care not for you,

And am so near the lack of charity—
To accuse myself— ^noteI hate you; which I had rather
You felt than make 't ^note my boast.

Clo.
You sin against
Obedience, which you owe your father. For ^note
The contract you pretend with that base wretch,
One bred of alms and foster'd with cold dishes,
With scraps o' the court, it is no contract, none:
And though it be allow'd ^note in meaner parties—
Yet who than he more mean? ^note—to knit their souls,
On whom there is no more dependency
But brats and beggary, ^note in self-figured ^note knot;
Yet you are curb'd from that enlargement by
The consequence o' the crown, and must not soil ^note
The precious note ^note of it with ^note a base slave,
A hilding for a livery, a squire's cloth,
A pantler, not so eminent.

Imo.
Profane fellow!
Wert thou the son of Jupiter, and no more
But what thou art besides, thou wert too base
To be his groom: thou wert dignified enough,
Even to the point of envy, if ^note 'twere made
Comparative for your virtues to be styled
The under-hangman of his kingdom ^note, and hated
For being preferr'd so well.

Clo.
The south-fog rot him!

Imo.
He never can meet more mischance than come
To be but named of thee. His meanest ^note garment,

That ever hath but clipp'd his body, is ^note dearer
In my respect than all the hairs ^note above ^note thee,
Were they all made such men. How now, Pisanio! ^note Enter Pisanio. ^note

Clo.
‘His garment! ^note’ Now, the devil— ^note

Imo.
To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently,— ^note

Clo.
‘His garment!’

Imo.
I am sprited with a fool,
Frighted and anger'd worse: go bid my woman
Search for a jewel that too casually
Hath left mine arm: it was thy master's: 'shrew me,
If I would lose it for a revenue
Of any king's ^note in Europe! I do think
I saw't this morning: confident I am
Last night 'twas on ^note mine ^note arm; I kiss'd it ^note:
I hope it be not gone to tell my lord
That I kiss aught but he ^note.

Pis.
'Twill not be lost.

Imo.
I hope so: go and search. [Exit Pisanio. ^note

Clo.
You have abused me:
‘His meanest garment!’ ^note

Imo.
Ay, I said so, sir:

If you will make't an action, call witness to't ^note. ^note

Clo.
I will inform your father.

Imo.
Your mother too:
She's my good lady, and will conceive, I hope,
But the worst of me. So, I leave you, sir ^note,
To the worst of discontent. [Exit.

Clo.
I'll be revenged:
‘His meanest ^note garment!’ Well. [Exit. ^note Scene IV. [Footnote: Rome. ^note Philario's house. ^note Enter Posthumus and Philario.

Post.
Fear it not, sir: I would I were so sure
To win the king as I am bold her honour
Will remain hers.

Phi.
What means do you make to him?

Post.
Not any; but abide the change of time;
Quake in the present winter's state ^note, and wish
That warmer days would come: in these fear'd hopes ^note,
I barely gratify your love; they failing,
I must die much your debtor.

Phi.
Your very goodness and your company
O'erpays all I can do. By this, your king
Hath heard of great Augustus: Caius Lucius
Will do's ^note commission throughly: and I think
He'll grant the tribute, send the arrearages ^note,

Or ^note look upon our Romans, whose remembrance
Is yet fresh in their grief.

Post.
I do believe,
Statist though I am none, nor like to be,
That this will prove a war; and you shall hear
The legions ^note now in Gallia sooner landed
In our not-fearing ^note Britain than have tidings
Of any penny tribute paid. Our countrymen
Are men ^note more order'd than when Julius Cæsar
Smiled at their lack of skill, but found their courage
Worthy his frowning at: their discipline,
Now mingled ^note with their courages ^note, will ^note make known
To their approvers they are people such ^note
That mend upon the world. Enter Iachimo.

Phi.
See! Iachimo! ^note

Post.
The swiftest ^note harts ^note have posted you by land,
And winds of all the corners kiss'd your sails,
To make your vessel nimble.

Phi. ^note
Welcome, sir.

Post. ^note
I hope the briefness of your answer made
The speediness of your return.

Iach.
Your lady
Is one of the ^note fairest ^note that ^note I have ^note look'd upon.

Post.
And therewithal the best, or let her beauty
Look through ^note a casement to allure false hearts

And be false with them.

Iach.
Here are letters for you.

Post.
Their tenour ^note good, I trust.

Iach.
'Tis very like.

Phi. ^note
Was Caius Lucius in the Britain ^note court
When you were there?

Iach.
He was expected then,
But not ^note approach'd.

Post.
All is well yet ^note. ^note
Sparkles this stone as it was wont? or is't not
Too dull for your good wearing?

Iach.
If I had lost it, ^note
I should have lost the worth of it in gold.
I'll make a journey twice as far, to enjoy
A second night of such sweet shortness which
Was mine in Britain; for the ring is won.

Post.
The stone's ^note too hard to come by.

Iach.
Not a whit,
Your lady being so easy.

Post.
Make not ^note, sir,
Your loss your sport: I hope you know that we
Must not continue friends.

Iach.
Good sir, we must,
If you keep covenant. Had I not brought
The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant
We were to question farther ^note: but I now
Profess myself the winner of her honour,
Together with your ring, and not the wronger
Of her or you, having ^note proceeded but
By both your wills.

Post.
If you can make't apparent

That you ^note have tasted her in bed, my hand
And ring is ^note yours: if not, the foul opinion
You had of her pure ^note honour gains or loses
Your sword or mine, or masterless leaves ^note both
To who shall ^note find them.

Iach.
Sir, my circumstances,
Being so near the truth as I will make them,
Must first induce you to believe ^note: whose strength
I will confirm with oath; which, I doubt not,
You'll give me leave to spare, when you shall find
You need it not.

Post.
Proceed. ^note

Iach.
First, her bedchamber,—
Where, I confess, I slept not, but profess
Had that was well worth watching,—it was hang'd
With tapestry of silk and silver ^note; the story
Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman,
And ^note Cydnus ^note swell'd above the banks ^note, or for
The press of boats or pride: a piece of work
So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive
In workmanship and value; which I wonder'd
Could be so rarely and exactly wrought,
Since the true life on't ^note was— ^note

Post.
This ^note is true ^note;
And this you might have heard of here, by me,
Or by some other.

Iach.
More particulars
Must justify my knowledge.

Post.
So they must,
Or do your honour injury.

Iach.
The chimney
Is south the chamber; and the chimney-piece,
Chaste Dian bathing: never saw I figures
So likely ^note to report themselves: the cutter ^note
Was as another nature, dumb ^note; outwent ^note her,
Motion and breath left out.

Post.
This is a thing
Which you might from relation likewise reap,
Being, as it is, much spoke of.

Iach.
The roof o' the chamber
With golden cherubins ^note is ^note fretted: her ^note andirons—
I had forgot them—were two winking ^note Cupids
Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely
Depending on their brands.

Post.
This is her honour ^note! ^note
Let it be ^note granted you have seen all this,—and praise
Be given ^note to your remembrance—the description
Of what is in her chamber nothing saves
The wager you have laid.

Iach.
Then, if you can, [Showing ^note the bracelet.
Be pale: I ^note beg but leave to air this jewel; see!
And now 'tis up again: it must be married

To that your diamond; I'll keep them.

Post.
Jove! ^note
Once more let me behold it: is it that
Which I left with her?

Iach.
Sir,—I thank her—that:
She stripp'd it from her arm; I see her yet;
Her pretty action did ^note outsell her gift
And yet enrich'd it too ^note: she gave it me
And said she prized it once. ^note

Post.
May be ^note she pluck'd it off
To send it me.

Iach.
She writes so to you, doth she?

Post.
O, no, no, no! 'tis true. Here, take this too; [Gives the ring. ^note
It is a basilisk unto mine eye,
Kills me to look on't. Let there be no honour
Where there is beauty; truth, where semblance; love,
Where there's another man: the vows of women
Of no more bondage be to where they are made
Than they are to their virtues; which is nothing.
O, above measure false!

Phi.
Have patience, sir,
And take your ring again; 'tis not yet won:
It may be probable she lost it, or
Who knows if ^note one of her ^note women, being ^note corrupted,
Hath stol'n ^note it from her? ^note

Post.
Very true;
And so, I hope, he came by't. Back my ring:
Render to me some corporal sign about her

More evident than this; for this was stol'n ^note.

Iach.
By Jupiter, I had it from her arm.

Post.
Hark you, he swears; by Jupiter he swears.
'Tis true:—nay, keep the ring—'tis true: I am ^note sure
She would ^note not lose ^note it: her attendants are
All sworn and ^note honourable:—they induced to steal it!
And by a stranger!—No, he hath enjoy'd her:
The cognizance of her incontinency
Is this: she hath bought the name of whore thus dearly. ^note
There, take thy hire; and all the fiends of hell
Divide themselves between you!

Phi.
Sir, be patient:
This is not strong enough to be believed
Of one persuaded well of— ^note

Post.
Never talk on't;
She hath been colted by him.

Iach.
If you seek
For further satisfying, under her breast—
Worthy the ^note pressing—lies a mole, right proud
Of that most delicate lodging: by my life,
I kiss'd it, and it gave me present hunger
To feed again, though full. You do remember
This stain upon her?

Post.
Ay, and it doth confirm
Another stain, as big as hell can hold,
Were there no more but it.

Iach.
Will you hear more?

Post.
Spare your arithmetic ^note; never count ^note the turns;
Once, and a million ^note!

Iach.
I'll be sworn— ^note

Post.
No swearing.
If you will swear you have not done't you lie,
And I will kill thee if thou dost deny
Thou'st ^note made me cuckold.

Iach.
I'll deny nothing.

Post.
O, that I had her here ^note, to tear her limb-meal!
I will go there and do't; i' ^note the court; before
Her father. I'll do something— ^note [Exit.

Phi.
Quite besides
The ^note government of patience! You have won:
Let's follow him and pervert ^note the present wrath
He hath against himself.

Iach.
With all my heart. [Exeunt. ^note Scene V. [Footnote: Another ^note room in Philario's house. Enter ^note Posthumus.

Post.
Is there no way for men to be, but women
Must be half-workers? We are all bastards ^note;
And that most venerable man which I
Did call my father, was I know not where
When I was stamp'd; some coiner with his tools
Made me a counterfeit: yet my mother seem'd
The Dian of that time: so doth my wife
The nonpareil of this. O, vengeance, vengeance!
Me of my lawful pleasure she restrain'd,
And pray'd me ^note oft forbearance; did ^note it with

A pudency so rosy, the sweet view on't
Might well have warm'd old Saturn; that I thought her ^note
As chaste as unsunn'd snow. O, all the devils!
This yellow Iachimo, in an hour,—was't not?—
Or less,—at first? ^note—perchance he spoke not, but
Like a full-acorn'd boar, a German one ^note,
Cried ‘O!’ and mounted; found no opposition
But ^note what he look'd for should ^note oppose and she
Should from ^note encounter guard. Could I find out
The woman's part in me! ^note For there's no motion
That tends to vice in man but I affirm
It is the woman's part: be it ^note lying, note it,
The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers;
Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers; revenges, hers; ^note
Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,
Nice longing ^note, slanders, mutability,
All faults that may be named ^note, nay, that hell knows,
Why, hers, in part or all, but rather all;
For even to vice ^{note note note}
They are not constant, but are changing still
One ^note vice, but of a minute old, for one
Not half so old as that. I'll write against them,
Detest them, curse them: yet 'tis greater skill
In a true hate, to pray they have their will:
The very devils cannot plague them better. [Exit.

Previous section

Next section