Imatges de pàgina
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And am right forry, that I must report ye
My mafter's enemy.

Cym. Our fubjects, Sir,

Will not endure his yoke; and for ourself
To fhew lefs fovereignty than they, muft needs
Appear un-kinglike.

Luc. So, Sir: I défire of you

A conduct over land, to Milford-Haven.
Madam, all joy befal your Grace, and you!

Cym. My Lords, you are appointed for that office; The due of honour in no point omit:

So farewel, noble Lucius.

Luc. Your hand, my Lord.

Clot. Receive it friendly; but from this time forth

I wear it as your enemy.

Luc. Th' event

Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well.

Cym. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my Lords, 'Till he have croft the Severn. Happiness!

[Exit Lucius, &c. Queen. He goes hence frowning; but it honours us, That we have giv'n him caufe.

Clot. 'Tis all the better;

Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.

Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the Emperor, How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely, Our chariots and our horfemen be in readiness ; The powers, that he already hath in Gallia, Will foon be drawn to head, from whence he moves His war for Britaine.

Queen. 'Tis not fleepy bufinefs;

But must be look'd to fpeedily, and strongly.
Cym. Our expectation, that it fhould 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 as like
A thing more made of malice, than of duty;
We've noted it. Call her before us, for

We've been too light in fufferance. [Exit a Servant.

Queen

Queen. Royal Sir,

Since the exile of Pofthumus, moft retir'd

Hath her life been; the cure whereof, my Lord,
"Tis time muft do. "Befeech your Majefty,
Forbear fharp fpeeches to her. She's a lady
So tender of rebukes, that words are ftrokes,
And ftrokes death to her

Re-enter the Servant.

Cym. Where is the, Sir? how Can her contempt be anfwer'd ? Serv. Please you, Sir,

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Her chambers are all lock/d, and there's no anfwer'.
That will be given to th' loudeft noise we make.
Queen. My Lord, when laft I went to visit her,
She pray'd me to excufe her keeping clofe;
Whereto conftrain'd by her infirmity,

She should that duty leave unpaid to you,
Which daily fhe was bound to proffer; this

She wish'd me to make known; but our great court).
Made me to blame in men'ry.

Cym. Her doors lock'd?

Not feen of late? grant heav'ns, that, which I fear, %

Prove falle!.

[Exit.

Queen. Son, I fay, follow the King.

Clot. That man of hers, Pifanio, her old fervant,

I have not feen thefe two days.

[Exit.

Queen, Go, look after

Pifanio, thou that ftandit fo for Pofthumus!

He hath a drug of mine; I pray, his abfence
Proceed by wallowing that; for he believes,
It is a thing of precious. But for her,

Where is the gone? haply, defpair hath feiz'd her j
Or, wing'd with fervor of her love, fhe's flown
To her defir'd Pofthumus; gone fhe is

To death, or to dishonour, and my end
Can make good ufe of either. She being down,
I have the placing of the British crown.

Re-enter

Re-enter Cloten.

How now, my fon?

Clot. 'Tis certain, fhe is filed.

Go in and cheer the King, he rages, none
Dare come about him.

Queen. All the better; may

This night fore-ftall him of the coming day! [Exit Queen.
Chot. I love, and hate her;-for fhe's fair and royal,
And that he hath all courtly parts more exquifite
Than lady, ladies, woman; from each one
The beft the hath, and the of all compounded
Out-fells them all: I love her therefore ;-but,
Disdaining me, and throwing favours on
The low Poftinumas, flanders fo her judgment,
That what's elfe 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 Pifanio.

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Who is here? what! are you packing, firrah? but Come hither; ah! you precious pander, villain,., Where is thy lady? in a word, or elfe

Thou art ftraightway with the fiends.

Pif. Oh, my good Lord!

[Drawing bis Swords

Clot. Where is thy lady? or, by Jupiter,

I will not afk again. Clofe villain,
I'll have this fecret from thy heart, or rip
Thy heart to find it. Is fhe with Pofthumus?
From whofe fo many weights of bafenefs cannot b
A dram of worth be drawn.

Pif. Alas, my Lord,

How can fhe be with him? when was the mifs'd ?
He is in Rome.

Clot. Where is fhe, Sir? come nearer;

No farther halting; fatisfy me home,
What is become of her.

Pij. Oh, my all-worthy Lord!

Clot.

Clot. All-worthy villain!

Discover where thy mistress is, at once,
At the next word; no more of worthy Lord.
Speak, or thy filence on the inftant is
Thy condemnation and thy death.
Pif. Then, Sir,

This paper is the hiftory of my knowledge!!
Touching her fight..

Clot. Let's fee't; I will purfue her

Even to Auguftus' throne.

Pif. Or this, or perish..

She's far enough; and what he learns by this, Afidei May prove his travel, not her danger. I

Člot. Humph.

Pif. I'll write to my Lord, fhe's dead. Oh,

Imogen,

Safe may'ft thou wander, fafe return again!
Clot. Sirrah, is this letter true?

Pif. Sir, as I think.

[Afides

Clot. It is Pofthumus's hand, I know't. Sirrah, if thou wouldst not be a villain, but do me true fervice. undergo thofe employments, wherein I fhould have, caufe to ufe thee, with a ferious industry; that is, what 'villainy 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. Wilt thou ferve me? for fince patiently and conftantly thou haft ftuck to the bare fortune of that beggar Pofthumus, thou can't not in the courfe of gratitude but be a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou ferve me?

Pif. Sir, I will.

Haft any

Clot. Give me thy hand, here's my purse. of thy late mafter's garments in thy poffeffion? Pif. I have, my Lord, at niy lodging, the fame fuit. he wore when he took leave of my lady and miftrefs. Clot. The first service thou doft me, fetch that suit hither; let it be thy first fervice, go.

Pf

Pif. I fhall, my Lord.

[Exit. (I forgot to

Clot. Meet thee at Milford-Haven?afk him one thing, I'll remember anon;) even there, thou villain Posthumus, 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 perion, together with the adornment of my qualities. With that fuit upon my back will I ravifh her; firft kill him, and in her eyes (there shall 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 fay, to vex her, I will execute in the clothes that the fo prais'd) to the court I'll knock her back, foot her home again. She hath despised me rejoycingly, and I'll be merry in my revenge.

Enter Pifanio, with a fuit of clothes,

Be thofe the garments ?

Pif.. Ay, my noble Lord.

Clot. How long is't fince fhe went to Milford-Haven? Pif. She can fcarce 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 due preferment fhall tender itself to thee. My revenge is now at Milford, 'would I had wings to follow it! come and be true.

[Exit. Pif. Thou bidd'ft me to my lofs: for true to thee, Were to prove falfe, which I will never be, To him that is moft true. To Milford go, And find not her, whom thou purfu'ft. Flow, flow, You heav'nly bleffings on her! this fool's fpeed Be croft with flownefs; labour be his meed!

[Exit.

SCENE

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