I'll be reveng'd: And ring, is yours: If not, the foul opinion Well. [Exit. You had of her pure honour, gains, or loses, Your sword, or mine; or masterless leaves both SCENE IV. Rome. An Apartment in Philario's To who shall find them. House. Iach.
Phi. Your very goodness, and your company, O'erpays all I can do. By this, your king Hath heard of great Augustus: Caius Lucius Will do his commission throughly: And, I think, He'll grant the tribute, send the arrearages, Or look upon our Romans, whose remembrance Is yet fresh in their grief. I do believe,
(Statist though I am none, nor like to be,)
That this will prove a war; and you shall hear
The legions, now in Gallia, sooner landed
In our not-fearing Britain, than have tidings
Of any penny tribute paid. Our countrymen
Are men more order'd, than when Julius Cæsar
Smil'd at their lack of skill, but found their courage
Worthy his frowning at: Their discipline
(Now mingled with their courages) will make
To their approvers, they are people, such
That mend upon the world.
Sparkles this stone as it was wont ? or is't not Too dull for your good wearing?
Being so near the truth, as I will make them,
Must first induce you to believe: whose strength
I will confirm with oath; which, I doubt not,
You'll give me leave to spare, when you shall find
You need it not.
Proceed.
First, her bed-chamber, (Where, I confess, I slept not; but, profess, With tapestry of silk and silver; the story Had that was well worth watching,) It was hang'd Proud Cleopatra, when she met her Roman, And Cydnus swell'd above the banks, or for The press of boats, or pride: A piece of work So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive Could be so rarely and exactly wrought, In workmanship, and value; which I wonder'd, Since the true life on't was
And this you might have heard of here, by me, Or by some other.
Must justify my knowledge.
Or do your honour injury. Iach.
Chaste Dian, bathing: never saw I figures
Is south the chamber; and the chimney-piece,
Was as another nature, dumb; outwent her,
So likely to report themselves: the cutter
Motion and breath left out.
This is a thing, Which you might from relation likewise reap; Being, as it is, much spoke of. Iach. The roof o'the chamber With golden cherubins is fretted: Her andirons (I had forgot them,) were two winking Cupids Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely Depending on their brands.
This is her honour!Let it be granted, you have seen all this, (and praise
Be given to your remembrance,) the description
Of what is in her chamber, nothing saves
The wager you have laid.
Iach.
Then, if you can,
[Pulling out the bracelet.
Be pale; I heg but leave to air this jewel: See!-
And now 'tis up again: It must be married
To that your diamond; I'll keep them.
Once more let me behold it: Is it that Which I left with her?
lach.
Sir, (I thank her,) that:
She stripp'd it from her arm; I see her yet;
Her pretty action did outsell her gift,
And yet enrich'd it too: She gave it me, and said,
If I have lost it, She priz'd it once.
Post.
I should have lost the worth of it in gold.
I'll make a journey twice as far, to enjoy
A second night of such sweet shortness, which
Was mine in Britain; for the ring is won.
Post. The stone's too hard to come by.
Iach.
Your lady being so easy.
May be, she pluck'd it off,
To send it me.
Iach.
She writes so to you? doth she?
Post. O, no, no, no; 'tis true.
Not a whit, It is a basilisk unto mine eye,
Post. Make not, sir, Your loss your sport: I hope, you know that we Must not continue friends." Iach.
Good sir, we must, If you keep covenant: Had I not brought The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant We were to question further: but I now Profess myself the winner of her honour, Together with your ring; and not the wronger Of her, or you, having proceeded but By both your wills. Post.
If you can make't apparent That you have tasted her in bed, my hand,
Here, take this [Gives the ring.
Kills me to look on't :-Let there be no honour,
Where there is beauty; truth, where semblance;
love,
Where there's another man: The vows of women
Of no more bondage be, to where they are made,
Than they are to their virtues; which is nothing:-
O, above measure false;
Have patience, sir,
And take your ring again; 'tis not yet won:
It may be probable, she lost it; or,
Who knows if one of her women, being corrupted,
Hath stolen it from her ?
Very true;
Post.
And so, I hope, he came by't:-Back my ring;
Render to me some corporal sign about her,
More evident than this; for this was stolen.
Iach. By Jupiter, I had it from her arm.
Post. Hark you, he swears; by Jupiter he swears.
'Tis true;-nay, keep the ring-'tis true, I am
She would not lose it: her attendants are [sure,
All sworn, and honourable :-They induc'd to
steal it !
And by a stranger!-No, he hath enjoy'd her:
The cognizance of her incontinency
Not half so old as that. I'll write against them,"
Detest them, curse them :-Yet 'tis greater skill
In a true hate, to pray they have their will:
The very devils cannot plague them better. [Exil.
A Room of State in Cymbe line's Palace.
[dearly. SCENE 1.-Britain.
Is this, she hath bought the name of whore thus
There, take thy hire; and all the fiends of hell
Divide themselves between you!
Sir, be patient!
This is not strong enough to be believ'd
Of one persuaded well of
She hath been colted by him.
Iach.
For further satisfying, under her breast
(Worthy the pressing,) lies a mole, right proud
Of that most delicate lodging: By my life,
I kiss'd it; and it gave me present hunger
To feed again, though full. You do remember
This stain upon her?
Post.
Ay, and it doth confirm
Another stain, as big as hell can hold,
Were there no more but it.
Iach.
Will you hear more?
Post. Spare your arithmetick: never count the
Once, and a million!
Iach.
If you will swear you have not done't, you lie ;
And I will kill thee, if thou dost deny
Thou hast made me cuckold.
Iach.
Post. O, that I had her here, to tear her limb-The natural bravery of your isle; which stands meal!
1 will go there, and do't; 'the court; before
Her father -I'll do something-
Phi.
[Exit.
Quite besides
The government of patience!-You have won :
Let's follow him, and pervert the present wrath
He hath against himself.
Iach.
With all my heart.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.-The same. Another Room in the same.
Enter Posthumus.
As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in
With rocks unscaleable, and roaring waters;
With sands, that will not bear your enemies'
boats,
[conquest
But suck them up to the topmast. A kind of
Cæsar made here; but made not here his brag
Of, came, and saw, and overcame with shame
(The first that ever touch'd him,) he was carried
From off our coast, twice beaten; and his shipping
(Poor ignorant baubles !) on our terrible seas,
Like egg-shells mov'd upon their surges, crack'd
As easily 'gainst our rocks: For joy whereof,
The fam'd Cassibelan, who was once at point
(0, giglot fortune !) to master Cæsar's sword,
Made Lud's town with rejoicing fires bright,
And Britons strut with courage.
Clo. Come, there's no more tribute to be paid: Our kingdom is stronger than it was at that time; and, as I said, there is no more such Cæsars: other of them may have crooked noses; but, to owe such straight arms, none.
Post. Is there no way for men to be, but women Must be half workers? We are bastards all; And that most venerable man, which I Did call my father, was I know not where When I was stamp'd; some coiner with his tools Made me a counterfeit: Yet my mother seem'd The Diana of that time so doth my wife The nonpareil of this.-O vengeance, vengeance! Me of my lawful pleasure she restrain'd, And pray'd me, oft, forbearance: did it with Clo. We have yet many among us can gripe as A pudency so rosy, the sweet view on't [her hard as Cassibelan: I do not say, I am one; but I Might well have warm'd old Saturn; that I thought have a hand.-Why tribute? why should we pay As chaste as unsunn'd snow :-O, all the devils-tribute? If Cæsar can hide the sun from us with a
This yellow Iachimo, in an hour, was't not ?-
Or less, at first: Perchance he spoke not; but,
Like a full-acorn'd boar, a German one,
Cry'd, oh and mounted: found no opposition
But what he look'd for should oppose, and she
Should from encounter guard. Could I find out
The woman's part in me! For there's no motion
That tends to vice in man, but I affirm
It is the woman's part: Be it lying, note it,
The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers;
Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers; revenges, hers;
Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,
Nice longings, slanders, mutability,
All faults that may be nam'd, nay, that hell knows,
Why, bers, in part, or all; but, rather, all:
For ev'n to vice
They are not constant, but are changing still
One vice, but of a minute old, for one
His brows within a golden crown, and call'd
Himself a king.
Luc.
I am sorry, Cymbeline,
That I am to pronounce Augustus Cæsar
(Cæsar, that hath more kings his servants, than
Thyself domestick officers,) thine enemy:
Receive it from me, then :- War, and confusion,
In Cæsar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee: look
For fury not to be resisted :-Thus defied,
I thank thee for myself.
Cym.
Thou art welcome, Caius.
Thy Cæsar knighted me; my youth I spent
Much under him; of him I gather'd honour;
Which he to seek of me again, perforce,
Behoves me keep at utterance; I am perfect,
That the Pannonians and Dalmatians, for
Their liberties, are now in arms; a precedent
Which, not to read, would show the Britons cold:
So Cæsar shall not find them.
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Luc. So, sir. [mine: Cym. I know your master's pleasure, and he All the remain is, welcome. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.-Another Room in the same.
Enter Pisanio.
Pis. How! of adultery? Wherefore write you [not
What monster's her accuser ?-Leonatus !
O, master! what a strange infection
Is fallen into thy ear? What false Italian
(As poisonous tongue'd, as handed,) hath prevail'd
On thy too ready hearing ?-Disloyal? No:
She's punish'd for her truth; and undergoes,
More goddess-like than wife-like, such assaults
As would take in some virtue.-O, my master!
Thy mind to her is now as low, as were
Thy fortunes. How! that I should murder her?
Upon the love, and truth, and vows, which I
Have made to thy command?-I, her ?-her
If it be so to do good service, never [blood?
Let me be counted serviceable. How look I,
That I should seem to lack humanity,
So much as this fact comes to? Do't: The letter
[Reading.
That I have sent her, by her own command
Shall give thee opportunity: O damn'd paper!
Black as the ink that's on thee! Senseless bauble,
Art thou a feodary for this act, and look'st
So virgin-like without? Lo, here she comes.
Enter Imogen.
I am ignorant in what I am commanded.
Imo. How now, Pisanio?
Pis. Madam, here is a letter from my lord.
Imo. Who? thy lord? that is my lord? Leonatus?
O, learn'd indeed were that astronomer,
That knew the stars, as I his characters;
He'd lay the future open.-You good gods,
Let what is here contain'd relish of love,
Of my lord's health, of his content,-yet not,
That we two are asunder, let that grieve him,-
(Some griefs are med'cinable ;) that is one of them,
For it doth physick love ;-of his content, [be,
All but in that!-Good wax, thy leave-Bless'd
You bees, that make these locks of counsel! Lovers,
And men in dangerous bonds, pray not alike;
Though forfeiters you cast in prison, yet
You clasp young Cupid's tables. Good news, gods!
[Reads.
ness, that remains loyal to his vow, and your, increas-
ing in love,
Leonatus Posthumus.
O, for a horse with wings!-Hear'st thou, Pisanio?
He is at Milford-Haven: Read, and tell me
How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs
May plod it in a week, why may not I
Glide thither in a day?-Then, true Pisanio,
(Who long'st, like me, to see thy lord; who long'st,
O, let me 'bate,-but not like me :-yet long'st
But in a fainter kind :-0, not like me;
For mine's beyond beyond,) say, and speak thick,
(Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing,
To the smothering of the sense,) how far it is
To this same blessed Milford: And, by the way,
Tell me how Wales was made so happy, as
To inherit such a haven : But, first of all,
How we may steal from hence; and, for the gap
That we shall make in time, from our hence-going,
And our return, to excuse :-but first, how get
Why should excuse be born or e'er begot? [hence;
We'll talk of that hereafter. Pr'ythee, speak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
'Twist hour and hour?
One score, 'twixt sun and sun, Madam, 's enough for you; and too much too. Imo. Why, one that rode to his execution, man, Could never go so slow: I have heard of riding wagers,
Where horses have been nimbler than the sands
That run i'the clock's behalf:But this is
Go, bid my woman feign a sickness; say [foolery:
She'll home to her father and provide me, pre-
A franklin's housewife.
A riding suit; no costlier than would fit [sently,
Madam, you're best consider. Imo. I see before me, man, nor here, nor here, Nor what ensues; but have a fog in them, That I cannot look through. Away, I pr'y thee; Do as I bid thee: There's no more to say; Accessible is none but Milford way. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-Wales. A mountainous Country, with a cave.
Enter Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus.
Bel. A goodly day not to keep house, with such
Whose roof's as low as ours! Stoop, boys: This gate
Instructs you how to adore the heavens ; and bows
you
To morning's holy office: The gates of monarchs
Are arch'd so high, that giants may jet through
And keep their impious turbans on, without
Good morrow to the sun. Hail, thou fair heaven!
We house i'the rock, yet use thee not so hardly
As prouder livers do.
Gui.
Arv.
Hail, heaven! Bel. Now for our mountain sport: Up to you
Your legs are young: I'll tread these flats. Con-
That it is place, which lessens, and sets off.
When you above perceive me like a crow, [sider,
And you may then revolve what tales I have told
Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war:
This service is not service, so being done,
But being so allow'd: To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we see :
The sharded beetle in a safer hold
And often, to our comfort, shall we find
Than is the full-wing'd eagle. O, this life
Richer than doing nothing for a babe;
Is nobler, than attending for a check;
Prouder, than rustling in unpaid-for silk:
Such gain the cap of him, that makes them fine,
Yet keeps his book uncross'd: no life to ours.
Gui. Out of your proof you speak: we, poor
Have never wing'd from view o'the nest; nor know What air's from home. Haply, this life is best, [not If quiet life be best; sweeter to you,
Justice, and your father's wrath, should he take me in his dominion, could not be so cruel to me, as you, O the dearest of creatures, would not even renew me with your eyes. Take notice, that I am in Cambria, at Milford-Haven: What your own love will, out of That have a sharper known; well corresponding this, advise you, follow. So, he wishes you all happi-With your stiff age: but, unto us, it is
A cell of ignorance; travelling abed
A prison for a debtor, that not dares
To stride a limit.
Arv.
What should we speak of,
When we are old as you ? when we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December, how,
In this our pinching cave, shall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing:
We are beastly; subtle as the fox, for prey;
Like warlike as the wolf, for what we eat :
Our valour is, to chase what flies; our cage
We make a quire, as doth the prison'd bird,"
And sing our bondage freely.
How you speak!
Did you but know the city's usuries,
And felt them knowingly: the art o'the court,
As hard to leave, as keep; whose top to climb
Is certain falling, or so slippery, that
The fear's as bad as falling: the toil of the war,
A pain that only seems to seek out danger
I'the name of fame, and honour; which dies i'the
And hath as oft a slanderous epitaph, [search;
As record of fair act; hay, many times,
Doth ill deserve by doing well; what's worse,
Must court'sey at the censure:-O, boys, this story
The world may read in me: My body's mark'd
With Roman swords; and my report was once
First with the best of note: Cymbeline lov'd-me;
And when a soldier was the theme, my name
Was not far off: Then was I as a tree,
Whose boughs did bend with fruit: but, in one
A storm, or robbery, call it what you will, [night,
Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves,
And left me bare to weather.
Bel. My fault being nothing, (as I have told you
oft,)
But that two villains, whose false oaths prevail'd
Before my perfect honour, swore to Cymbeline,
I was confederate with the Romans: so,
Follow'd my banishment; and, this twenty years,
This rock, and these demesnes, have been my
Where I have liv'd at honest freedom; paid
More pious debts to heaven, than in all
The fore-end of my time.-But, up to the moun-
This is not hunters' language:He, that strikes
The venison first, shall be the lord o'the feast;
To him the other two shall minister;
And we will fear no poison, which attends
In place of greater state. I'll meet you in the
valleys.
[Exeunt Gui. and Arv.
How hard it is, to hide the sparks of nature!
These boys know little, they are sons to the king;
Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive.
They think, they are mine: and, though train'd up
thus meanly
I'the cave, wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit
The roofs of palaces; and nature prompts them,
In simple and low things, to prince it, much
Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore,
The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, whom
The king his father call'd Guiderius,-Jove!
When on my three-foot stool I sit, and tell
The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out
Into my story: say,-Thus mine enemy fell;
And thus I set my foot on his neck; even then
The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,
Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in
ture
Myself, Belarius, that am Morgan call'd,
They take for natural father. The game is up.
SCENE: IV.-Near Milford-Haven.
Enter Pisanio and Imogen.
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 first, as I have now:-Pisanio! Man!!
Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind,
That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks
that sigh
From the inward of thee? One, but painted thus,
Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd
Beyond self-explication: Put thyself
Into a haviour of less fear, ere wildness
Vanquish my staider senses. What's the matter?
Why tender'st thou that paper to me, with
A look untender? Ifit be summer news,
Smile to't before: if winterly, thou need'st [hand!
But keep that countenance still-My husband's
That drug-damn'd Italy hath out-craftied 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.
Please you, read; And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing The most disdain'd of fortune.
the strumpet in my bed; the testimonies whereof lie Imo. [Reads.] Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak surmises; as I expect my revenge. That part, thou, Pisanio, but from proof as strong as my grief, and as certain 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 opportunities at Milford-Haven: fear to strike, and to make me certain it is done, thou she hath my letter for the purpose: Where, if thou art the pandar to her dishonour, and equally to me disloyal.
Pis. What shall I need to draw my sword? the Hath cut her throat already.-No, 'tis slander; Whose edge is sharper than the sword; whose
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, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters.-What cheer, ma-
Imo. False to his bed! What is it, to be false ?
To lie in watch there, and to think on him?
To weep 'twixt clock and clock? if sleep charge
To break it with a fearful dream of him, [nature,
And cry myself awake? that's false to his bed?
Is it?
Imo. I false? Thy conscience witness:-Iachimo
Thou didst accuse him of incontinency,
Thou then look'dst like a villain; now, methinks,
Thy favour's good enough.--Some jay of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting, hath betray'd
Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion; [him:
pos-And, for I am richer than to hang by the walls,
I must be ripp'd-to pieces with me!0,
That acts my words. The younger brother, Cad-Men's vows are women's traitors! All good seem-
(Once Arviragus,) in as like a figure, [wal, By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought [ing,
Strikes life into my speech, and shows much more Put on for villainy; not born, where't grows;
His own conceiving. Hark! the game is rous'd! But worn, a bait for ladies.
Q Cymbeline! heaven, and my conscience, knows,
Good madam, hear me.
Thou didst unjustly banish me: whereon,
Imo. True honest men being heard, like false
At three, and two years old, I stole these babes;
Æneas,
Thinking to bar thee of succession, as
Thou reft'st me of my lands. Euriphile,
Were, in his time, thought false: and Sinon's
Did scandal many a holy tear; took pity [weeping
Thon wast their nurse; they took thee for their From most true wretchedness: So, thou, Posthu
Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men; [mus,
Goodly, and gallant, shall be false, and perjur'd,
And every day do honour to her grave:
From thy great fail.-Come, fellow, be thou ho
Do thou thy master's bidding: When thou see'st
A little witness my obedience: Look! [him,
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 may'st 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 I do not by thy hand, thou art
No servant of thy master's: Against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine,
[heart;
That cravens my weak hand. Come, here's my
Something's afore't:-Soft, soft; we'll no defence;
Obedient as the scabbard.-What is here ?
The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus,
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 those that are be-
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor [tray'd
Stands in worse case of woe.
And thou, Posthumus, thou that did'st set up
My disobedience 'gainst the king my father,
And make me put into contempt the suits
Of princely fellows, 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 disedg'd by her
That now thou tir'st on, how thy memory
Will then be pang'd by me.-Priythee, despatch:
The lamb entreats the butcher: Where's thy knife?
Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding,
When I desire it too.
Since I receiv'd command to do this business, I have not slept one wink.
Do't, and to bed then. Pis. I'll wake mine eye-balls blind first.
Imo. No court, no father; nor no more ado
With that harsh, noble, simple, nothing:
That Cloten, whose 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 ?
Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night,
Are they not but in Britain ? I'the world's volame
Our Britain seems as of it, but not in it;
In a great pool, a swan's nest; Pr'ythee, think
There's livers out of Britain.
Pis.
I am most glad
You think of other place. The embassador,
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford-Haven
To-morrow; Now, if you could wear a mind
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. I'
Pretty, and full of view: yea, haply, near
The residence of Posthumus: so nigh, at least,
That though his actions were not visible, yet
Report should render him hourly to your ear,
As truly as he moves.
O, for such means! Though peril to my modesty, not death on't, I would adventure. Pis. Well then, here's 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 its pretty self,) to a waggish courage: Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy, and As quarrellous as the weasel; nay, you must Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek, Exposing it (but, O, the harder heart! Alack no remedy !) to the greedy touch Of common-kissing Titan: and forget Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein You made great Juno angry.
Nay, be brief; I see into thy end, and am almost A man already. Pis. First, make yourself but like one. Wherefore then Fore-thinking this, I have already fit, Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abus'd ('Tis in my cloak-bag,) doublet, hat, hose, all So many miles, with a pretence ? this place? That answer to them: Would you, in their serv Mine action, and thine own? our horses' labour ? And with that imitation you can borrow
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, when thou hast ta'en thy stand, The elected deer before thee?
But to win time To lose so bad employment: in the which I have consider'd of a course; Good lady, Hear me with patience.
Talk thy tongue weary; speak: I have heard, I am a strumpet; and mine ear, Therein false struck, can take no greater wound, Nor tent, to bottom that. But speak.
Bringing me here to kill me.
Then, madam,
I thought you would not back again.
Imo.
Most like;
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 abus'd:
Some villain, ay, and singular in his art,
Hath done you both this cursed injury.
Imo. Some Roman courtezan.
I'll give but 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
Or in my life what comfort, when I am [live?
Dead to my husband?
Pis,
Thou art all the comfort The gods will diet me with. Pr'ythee, away: There's more to be consider'd; but we'll even All that good time will give us: This attempt I'm soldier to, and will abide it with A prince's courage. Away, I pr'ythee.
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 sick at sea, Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this Will drive away distemper. To some shade, And fit you to your manhood:-May the gods Direct you to the best!
If you'll back to the court,- My emperor hath wrote; I must from hence;
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