A storm, or robbery, call it what you will, Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves, Gui. Uncertain favour! Bel. My fault being nothing (as I have told you oft) More pious debts to heaven, than in all The fore-end of my time. But, up to the mountains! The venison first shall be the lord o' the feast; 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 Strikes life into my speech, and shows much more At three, and two years old, I stole these babes, Thou reft'st me of my lands. Euriphile, Thou wast their nurse; they took thee for their mother, Myself, Belarius, that am Morgan call'd, They take for natural father. - The game is up. Imo. SCENE IV. Near Milford-Haven. Enter PISANIO and IMOgen. [Exit. 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 th' inward of thee? One, but painted thus, Would be interpreted a thing perplex'd But keep that countenance still. My husband's hand! Pis. Speak, man: thy tongue which to read Please you, read; And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing Imo. [Reads.] "Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played the strumpet in my bed; the testimonies whereof lie bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak surmises, but from proof as strong as my grief, and as certain as I expect my revenge. That part, thou, Pisanio, 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 opportunity at Milford-Haven: she hath my letter for the purpose: where, if thou fear to strike, and to make me certain it is done, thou art the pandar to her dishonour, and equally to me disloyal." Pis. What shall I need to draw my sword? the paper All corners of the world: kings, queens, and states, Imo. False to his bed! What cheer, Madam? 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 nature, And cry myself awake? that's false to his bed: Pis. Alas, good lady! Imo. I false? Thy conscience witness. Thou didst accuse him of incontinency; Iachimo Thou then look'dst like a villain; now, methinks, Some jay of Italy, Whose mother was her painting, hath betray'd him: 0! And, for I am richer than to hang by the walls, Pis. Good Madam, hear me. Imo. True honest men being heard, like false Æneas, From most true wretchedness: so thou, Posthumus, Goodly, and gallant, shall be false, and perjur'd, Come, fellow, be thou honest: Do thou thy master's bidding. When thou seest him, A little witness my obedience: look! Pis. Thou shalt not damn my hand. Imo. Hence, vile instrument! Why, I must die; And if I do not by thy hand, thou art No servant of thy master's. Against self-slaughter That cravens my weak hand. Come, here's my heart: 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 And thou, Posthumus, that didst set up 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 Will then be pang'd by me. Pr'ythee, despatch: The lamb entreats the butcher: where's thy knife? Since I receiv'd command to do this business, Do 't, and to bed, then. Wherefore, then, Pis. I'll wake mine eye-balls blind first. Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abus'd Talk thy tongue weary; speak: Imo. 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. But if I were as wise as honest, then My purpose would prove well. It cannot be, |