home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
The Illustrated Works of Shakespeare
/
Illustrated Works of Shakespeare, The (1990)(Animated Pixels)[!][CDTV-PC].iso
/
shakes
/
text
/
27
/
03_05
< prev
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1991-04-10
|
9KB
|
253 lines
Britain. A Room in Cymbeline's Palace.
Enter CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, LUCIUS, and LORDS.
Cymbeline Thus far, 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
To show less sovereignty than they must needs
Appear unkinglike.
Lucius So, sir, I desire of you
A conduct over land to Milford Haven.
Madam, all joy befall your grace, [To CLOTEN.] and you!
Cymbeline My lords, you are appointed for that office;
The due of honour in no point 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
Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well.
Cymbeline Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords,
Till he have crossed the Severn. Happiness!
[Exeunt LUCIUS and some LORDS.
Queen He goes hence frowning; but it honours us
That we have given him cause.
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
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness.
The powers that he already hath in Gallia
Will soon be drawn to head, 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. 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 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.
[Exit a LORD.
Queen Royal sir,
Since the exile of Posthumus, most retired
Hath her life been; the cure whereof, my lord,
'Tis time must do. Beseech your majesty,
Forbear sharp speeches to her; she's a lady
So tender of rebukes that words are strokes,
And strokes death to her.
Re-enter LORD.
Cymbeline Where is she, sir? How
Can her contempt be answered?
Lord Please you, sir,
Her chambers are all locked, and there's no answer
That will be given to th' loud of noise we make.
Queen My lord, when last I went to visit her
She prayed me to excuse her keeping close,
Whereto constrained by her infirmity,
She should that duty leave unpaid to you,
Which daily she was bound to proffer. 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.
Queen Go, look after.
[Exit CLOTEN.
Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus!
He hath a drug of mine; I pray his absence
Proceed by swallowing that, for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her,
Where is she gone? Haply 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
Can make good use of either. She being down,
I have the placing of the British crown.
Re-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.
Queen All the better. May
This night forestall him of the coming day!
[Exit.
Cloten I love and hate her; for she's fair and royal,
And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite
Than lady, ladies, woman, from every one
The best she hath, and she, of all compounded,
Outsells them all. I love her therefore; but
Disdaining me, and throwing favours on
The low Posthumus, slanders so her judgement
That what's else rare 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?
Come hither; ah, you precious pandar! Villain,
Where is thy lady? In a word, or else
Thou art straightway with the fiends.
Pisanio O, good my lord!
Cloten Where is thy lady? Or, by Jupiter,
I will not ask again. Close 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 of baseness cannot
A dram 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.
No further halting. Satisfy me home
What is become of her?
Pisanio O, my all-worthy lord!
Cloten All-worthy villain!
Discover 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
Touching her flight.
[Presenting a letter.
Cloten Let's see't. I will pursue her
Even to Augustus' throne.
Pisanio [Aside.] Or this or perish.
She's far enough; and what he learns by this
May prove his travel, not her danger.
Cloten Hum!
Pisanio [Aside.] 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 those
employments wherein I should have cause to use thee with a
serious industry, 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 my means for thy
relief, nor my voice for thy preferment.
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 be a
diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou serve me?
Pisanio Sir, I will.
Cloten Give me thy hand, here's my purse. Hast any of thy late
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 - 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. There shall she see my valour, which will then be a
torment to her contempt. He on the ground, my speech of
insultment 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 her
back, foot her home again. She hath despised me
rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in my revenge.
Re-enter PISANIO, with the 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 to my design. Be but duteous, and true
preferment shall tender itself to thee. My revenge is now
at Milford; would I had wings to follow it! Come, and be
true.
[Exit.
Pisanio Thou bidd'st me to my loss; for true to thee
Were to prove false, which I will never be,
To him that is most true. 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!
[Exit.