20

Clo.

'Tis all the better; Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.

Cym. 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

30

His war for Britain.
Queen.

'Tis not sleepy business; But must be look'd to speedily and strongly.

Cym. Our expectation that it would be thus
Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen,
Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd
Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd
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 an Attendant, 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.

40

Re-enter Attendant.
Сут.

Where is she, sir ? How
Can her contempt be answer'd ?
Atten.

Please you, sir,
Her chambers are all lock’d; and there 's no answer
That will be given to the loud'st noise we make.
32. looks, looks upon.

too negligent in thus indulging 35. too slight in sufferance,

her. VOL. IV

193

50

Queen, My lord, when last I went to visit her,
She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close,
Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity,
She should that duty leave unpaid to you,
Which daily she was bound to proffer : this
She wish'd me to make known; but our great

court
Made me to blame in memory.
Сут.

Her doors lock'd ? Not seen of late ? Grant, heavens, that which I fear Prove false !

[Exit. Queen, Son, I say, follow the king.

Clo. 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 sıvallowing that, for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her,
Where is she gone? Haply, despair hath seized

her,
Or, wing'd 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.

60

:

Re-enter CLOTEN.
How now, my son !
Clo.

'Tis certain she is fied.
Go in and cheer the king : he rages ; none
Daire come about him.
Queen.

[Aside] All the better : may This night forestall him of the coming day! [Exit. 50. our great court, this im

70

Clo. 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 ? 80
Come hither : ah, you precious pandar! Villain,
Where is thy lady? In a word; or else
Thou art straightway with the fiends.
Pis.

O, good my lord !
Clo. 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.
Pis.

Alas, my lord,
How can she be with him ? When was she miss'd ?
He is in Rome.
Clo.

Where is she, sir ? Come nearer ;
No further halting : satisfy me home
What is become of her.

Pis. O, my all-worthy lord!

90 100

Clo.

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.
Pis.

Then, sir,
This paper is the history of my knowledge
Touching her flight.

[Presenting a letter. Clo. Let's see 't. I will

pursue

her
Even to Augustus' throne.
Pis.

[Aside] Or this, or perish.
She's far enough; and what he learns by this
May prove his travel, not her danger.
Clo.

Hum!
Pis. [Aside] I'll write to my lord she's dead.

O Imogen,
Safe mayst thou wander, safe return again !

Clo. Sirrah, is this letter true ?
Pis. Sir, as I think.

Clo. 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 110 should have cause to use thee with a serious industry, that is, what villany 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.

Pis. Well, my good lord.

Clo. 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 120 course of gratitude, but be a diligent follower of mine: wilt thou serve me?

Pis. Sir, I will

Clo. Give me thy hand; here's my purse. Hast any of thy late master's garments in thy possession?

Pis. I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit he wore when he took leave of my lady and mistress.

Clo. The first service thou dost me, fetch that 130 suit hither : let it be thy first service; go. Pis. I shall, my lord.

[Exit. Clo. 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 140 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 iny revenge.

Re-enter PISANIO, with the clothes. Be those the garments ?

Pis. Ay, my noble lord.

Clo. How long is 't since she went to MilfordHaven ? Pis. She can scarce be there yet.

150