Imo.
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 ^{note note} first, as I have now. ^note Pisanio! man! ^note
Where is ^note Posthumus? What is in thy mind,
That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that sigh
From the inward of thee? One ^note but painted thus
Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd
Beyond self-explication: put thyself
Into a haviour of less fear, ere wildness

^note
Vanquish my ^note staider ^note senses. What's the matter?
Why tender'st ^note thou that paper to me, with
A look untender? If't ^note be summer news,
Smile to't ^note before; if winterly, thou need'st
But keep that countenance still. My husband's hand!
That drug-damn'd Italy hath out-craftied ^note 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.

Pis.
Please you, read;
And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing
The most disdain'd of fortune.

Imo. [Reads]

‘Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played the strumpet in my bed; the testimonies whereof lie ^note bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak surmises; 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 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 ^noteme disloyal.’

Pis.
What shall I need to draw my sword? the paper
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,
Maids, matrons, ^note nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters. What cheer, madam?

Imo.
False to his bed! What is it to be false?
To ^note lie in watch there, and to think on him?

To weep 'twixt clock and clock? if sleep charge nature,
To break it with a fearful dream of him,
And cry myself awake? that's ^note false to's ^note bed, is it ^note?

Pis.
Alas, good lady!

Imo.
I false! Thy conscience witness: Iachimo ^note,
Thou didst accuse him of incontinency;
Thou then look'dst like a villain; now, methinks,
Thy favour's ^note good ^note enough. Some jay of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting, ^note hath betray'd him:
Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion;
And, for I am ^note 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,
But worn a bait for ladies.

Pis.
Good ^note madam, hear me.

Imo.
True honest men being heard, like false Æneas,
Were in his time thought false; and Sinon's ^note weeping
Did scandal many a holy tear, took ^note pity
From most true wretchedness: so thou, Posthumus,
Wilt lay the leaven on ^note all proper men;
Goodly and gallant shall ^note be false and perjured
From thy great fail ^note. Come, fellow, be thou honest:
Do thou thy master's bidding. When thou see'st him,

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
The riches of it. Do his bidding; strike.
Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause,
But now thou seem'st a coward.

Pis.
Hence, vile instrument!
Thou shalt not damn my hand.

Imo.
Why, I must die;
And if ^note I do not by thy hand, thou art
No servant of thy master's. Against ^note self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine
That cravens my weak hand. Come, here's my heart: ^note
Something's ^note afore 't ^note. Soft, soft! we'll no defence;
Obedient as the scabbard. What is here?
The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus, ^note
All turn'd to heresy? Away, away,
Corrupters of my faith! you shall no more
Be stomachers to my heart. Thus may poor fools
Believe false teachers: though ^note those that are betray'd
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
Stands in worse case of woe.
And thou, Posthumus, thou that ^note didst set up
My disobedience 'gainst the king my father,
And make ^note me put into contempt the suits ^note
Of princely fellows ^note, shalt hereafter find
It is no act of common passage, but
A strain of rareness: and I grieve myself

To think, when thou shalt be disedged ^note by her
That ^note now thou tirest on, how thy memory
Will then be pang'd by me. Prithee, dispatch:
The lamb entreats the butcher: where's thy ^note knife?
Thou art too ^note slow to do thy master's bidding,
When I desire it too.

Pis.
O gracious lady,
Since I received command to do this business
I have not slept one wink.

Imo.
Do't, and to bed then.

Pis.
I'll wake mine eye-balls blind first. ^note

Imo.
Wherefore ^note then
Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abused
So many miles with a pretence? this place?
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 ^note when thou hast ta'en thy stand,
The elected deer before thee?

Pis.
But to win time
To lose ^note so bad employment; in the which
I have consider'd of a course. Good lady,
Hear me ^note with patience ^note.

Imo.
Talk thy tongue weary; speak:
I have ^note heard I am a strumpet; and mine ear,
Therein false struck ^note, can take no greater wound,
Nor tent to bottom that. But speak.

Pis.
Then, madam,

I thought you would not back again.

Imo.
Most like,
Bringing me here to kill me.

Pis.
Not so, neither:
But if I were as wise as honest, then
My purpose would prove well. It cannot be
But that my master is abused: some villain,
Ay, and singular in his ^note art, hath done you both
This cursed injury. ^note

Imo.
Some Roman courtezan. ^note

Pis.
No, on my life.
I'll give but ^note 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.

Imo.
Why, good fellow,
What shall I do the while? where bide? how live?
Or in my life what comfort, when I am
Dead to my husband?

Pis.
If you'll back to the court— ^note

Imo.
No court, no father; nor no more ado
With that harsh, ^note noble ^note, simple nothing, ^note
That Cloten, whose ^note love-suit hath been to me
As fearful as a siege.

Pis.
If not at court,
Then not in Britain must you bide.

Imo.
Where then? ^note
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 ^{note note};
In a great pool a swan's nest: prithee, think
There's livers ^note out of Britain.

Pis.
I am ^note most glad
You think of other place. The ambassador,
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford-Haven
To-morrow: now, if you could wear a mind ^note
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 ^note full of view; yea, haply ^note, near
The residence of Posthumus; so nigh at least ^note
That though his actions ^note were not visible, yet ^note
Report should render him hourly to your ear
As truly as he moves.

Imo.
O, for such means, ^note
Though ^note peril to my modesty, not death on't,
I would adventure! ^note

Pis.
Well then, here's ^note the point:
You must forget to be a woman; change
Command into obedience; fear and niceness—
The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
Woman it ^note pretty self—into a ^note waggish courage ^note;
Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy and
As quarrelous as the weasel; nay, you must
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,
Exposing it—but, O, the harder heart ^note!

Alack, no remedy!—to the greedy touch
Or common-kissing Titan, and forget ^note
Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein
You made great Juno angry.

Imo.
Nay, be brief: ^note
I see into thy end, and am almost
A man already.

Pis.
First, make yourself but like one.
Fore-thinking this, ^note I have already fit— ^note
'Tis in my ^note 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 ^note Lucius
Present yourself, desire his service, tell him
Wherein you're happy,—which you'll make him know ^note,
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 ^note means abroad,
You have me, ^note rich ^note; and I will never fail
Beginning nor supplyment ^note.

Imo.
Thou art ^note all the comfort
The gods will diet ^note me with. Prithee, away:
There's more to be consider'd; but we'll even ^note
All that good time will give us: this attempt
I am soldier to, ^note and will abide it with
A prince's courage. Away ^note, I prithee.

Pis.
Well, madam, we must take a short farewell,
Lest, being miss'd, I be suspected of
Your carriage 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 ^note sick at sea,
Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this ^note
Will drive away distemper. To some shade,
And fit you to your manhood: may the gods
Direct you to the best!

Imo.
Amen: I thank thee. [Exeunt severally. ^{note note}

Previous section

Next section