Enter a Meffenger. Cym. Where is she? how Can her contempt be answer❜d? Mef. Please you Sir, Her chambers are all lock'd, and there's no answer She wish'd me to make known; but our great court Cym. Her doors lock'd? Not seen of late? grant heav'ns, that which I fear [Exit. Queen. Son, I fay; follow the king. Clot. That man of hers, Pifanio, her old fervant, I have not seen these two days. [Exit. Queen. Go, look after- Pifanio, thou that stand'ft fo for Pofthumus! Where is the gone? haply despair hath seiz❜d her; my To death, or to dishonour, and end Re-enter How now, my fon? Re-enter Cloten. Clot. 'Tis certain fhe is fled. Go in and cheer the king, he rages, none Queen. All the better; may This night fore-stall him of the coming day! Clot. I love and hate her; for she's fair and royal, To be reveng'd upon her. For when fools 1611 SCENE VI. Enter Pifanio. Who is here? what are you packing, firrah? Clot. Where is thy lady? or, by Jupiter, I will not ask again. Close villain, Thy heart to find it. Is the with Pofthumus? From whose so many weights of baseness, cannot [Exit Queen. Pif. Pif. Alas, my lord, How can she be with him? when was fhe miss'd? He is in Rome. Clot. Where is fhe, Sir? come nearer; No farther halting; fatisfie me home, What is become of her. Pis. Oh, my all-worthy lord! Clot. All-worthy villain! Discover where thy mistress is, at once, At the next word; no more of worthy lord. This paper is the history of my knowledge Clot. Let's fee't; I will pursue her Even to Auguftus' throne. Pif. Or this, or perish. She's far enough, and what he learns by this, May prove his travel, not her danger. Clot. Humh. Pif. I'll write to my lord she's dead. Oh, Imogen, Safe may'st thou wander, safe return again. Clot. Sirrah, is this letter true? Pif. Sir, as I think. [afide. Clot. It is Pofthumus's hand, I know't. Sirrah, if thou would'st not be a villain, but to do me true service; undergo those employments wherein I fhould have cause to use thee with a serious industry, that is, what villany foe'er I bid thee do to perform it, directly and truly; I would think thee an honeft man, thou shouldst neither want my means for thy relief, nor my voice for thy preferment. Pif. Well, my good lord. Clot. Clot. Wilt thou ferve me? for fince patiently and constantly thou haft stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar Pofthumus, thou can'st not in the course of gratitude but be a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou ferve me? Pif. Sir, I will. Clot. Give me thy hand, here's my purse. Haft any of thy late master's garments in thy poffeffion? Pif. I have, my lord, at the lodging, the fame fuit hewore when he took leave of my lady and mistress. Clot. The first service thou doft me, fetch that fuit hither; let it be thy first service, go. Pis. I fhall, my lord. [Exit. Clot. Meet thee at Milford-Haven? I forgot to ask him one thing, I'll remember't anon; even there, thou villain Pofthumus, will I kill thee. I would these garments were come. She faid upon a time, (the bitterness of it I now belch from my heart,) that the held the very garment of Pofthumus in more respect than my noble and natural perfon, together with the adornment of my qualities. With that fuit upon my back will I ravish her; first kill him, and in her eyes---there fhall fhe fee my valour, which will then be a torment to her contempt. He on the ground, my fpeech of infultment ended on his dead body, and when my luft hath dined, (which as I say, to vex her, I will execute in the cloaths that the fo prais'd) to the court I'll knock her back, foot her home again. She hath defpis'd me rejoycingly, and I'll be merry in my revenge. Enter Pifanio, with a fuit of cloaths. Be those the garments? Pif. Ay, my noble lord. Clot. How long is't fince fhe went to Milford-Haven? Pif. She can scarce be there yet. Clot. Bring this apparel to my chamber, that is the fecond thing that I have commanded thee. The third is, that thou wilt be a voluntary mute to my defign. Be but duteous, and true preferment shall tender it felf to thee. My revenge is now at Milford, would I had wings to follow it! come and be true. [Ex. Pis. Thou bidd'st me to my loss: for true to thee, Were to prove falfe, which I will never be, To him that is most true. To Milford go, And find not her, whom thou purfu'ft. Flow, flow, You heav'nly bleffings on her! this fool's speed Be croft with flownefs; labour be his meed! The Foreft and Cave. Enter Imogen in boys cloaths. See a man's life is a tedious one: Imo. I I've tired my felf; and for two nights together When from the mountain top Pifanio fhew'd thee, A punishment, or tryal? yes no wonder, [Exit. [Seeing the cave. 'Twere |