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CYMBELINE
SCENE V。 Britain。 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
overland to Milford Haven。 Madam； all joy befall your Grace； 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 cross'd the Severn。 Happiness！ Exeunt LUCIUS and 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 pow'rs 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 look'd 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
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
a MESSENGER QUEEN。 Royal sir； Since the exile of Posthumus； most
retir'd 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 MESSENGER
CYMBELINE。 Where is she； sir？ How Can her contempt be answer'd？
MESSENGER。 Please you； sir； Her chambers are all lock'd； and there's no
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CYMBELINE
answer That will be given to th' loud of noise we make。 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。 CYMBELINE。
Her doors lock'd？ 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 seiz'd her； Or； wing'd with fervour of her love； she's flown To
her desir'd 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 judgment That what's else rare is chok'd； and in that point I will
conclude to hate her； nay； indeed； To be reveng'd upon her。 For when fools
Shall…
Enter PISANIO
Who is here？ What； are you packing； sirrah？ Come hither。 Ah； you
precious pander！ 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
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CYMBELINE
she miss'd？ He is in Rome。 CLOTEN。 Where is she； sir？ Come nearer。 No
farther 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。
Humh！ PISANIO。 ＇Aside＇ I'll write to my lord she's dead。 O Imogen； 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 ga