Be stomachers to my heart. 'Pr'ythee, dispatch: The lamb entreats the butcher: Where's thy knife ? Pisanio. Oh, gracious lady, Since I receiv'd command to do this business, Imog. Do't, and to bed then. Pisanio. I'll wake mine eye-balls blind first. Didst undertake it? Why hast thou gone so far, To be unbent, when thou hast ta'en thy stand, Pisanio. But to win time To lose so bad employment: in the which, Imog. Talk thy tongue weary; speak: I have heard, I am a strumpet; and mine ear, Pisanio. It cannot be, But that my master is abus'd: Some villain, ay, and singular in his art, Pisanio. No, on my life. I'll give but notice you are dead, and send him Imog. 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? Pisanio. If you'll back to the court, Imog. No court, no father. Pisanio. If not at court, Then not in Britain must you bide. Where then? There's livers out of Britain. You think of other place. The embassador, You should tread a course Pretty, and full of view: yea, haply, near Imog. O, for such means! Though peril to my modesty, not death on't, Pisanio. Well, then here's the point: You must forget to be a woman; change Forethinking this, I have already fit "Tis in my cloak bag,) doublet, hat, hose, all From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucius Wherein you are happy, (which you'll make him know, Imog. Thou art all the comfort I am soldier too, and will abide it with A prince's courage. 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, Imog. Amen! I thank thee. [Exeunt ACT THE FOURTH. SCENE I. CYMBELINE'S Palace. Enter CLOTen. Cloten. I love, and hate her: for she's fair and royal, I love her; but, Disdaining me, and throwing favours on The low Posthumus, slanders so her judgment, Who is here? Enter PISANIO. Ah, you precious pander! Villain, Cloten. Where is thy lady? or, by Jupiter, Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus? Pisanio. Alas, my lord, How can she be with him? When was she miss'd? Cloten. Where is she, sir? Satisfy me home, What is become of her? Pisanio. O, my all-worthy lord! Cloten. All-worthy villain! Speak, or thy silence on the instant is This paper is the history of my knowledge Touching her flight. [Presents 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, I'll write to my lord she's dead. O, Imogen, 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, 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. Pisanio. Well, my good lord. 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 mis tress. Cloten. The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit hither: let it be thy first service; go. Pisanio. I shall, my lord. [Exit PISANIO. Cloten. Meet thee at Milford Haven :- -Even there, thou villain Posthumus, will I kill thee.-I would, these garments were come. She said upon a time, that she held the very garment of Posthumus in more respect than my noble and natural person. With that suit upon my back, will I first kill him, and in her eyes: He on the ground, my speech of insultment ended on his dead body, when my appetite hath din'd, to the court I'll foot her home again. My revenge is now at Milford :-'Would I had wings to follow it! [Exit. SCENE II. Wales. The Forest and Cave. Enter IMOGEN, in Boy's Clothes. Imog. I see, a man's life is a tedious one : I have tir'd myself; and for two nights together Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick, But that my resolution helps me.-Milford, |