The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

PISANIO I humbly thank your highness.

  QUEEN Pray walk a while.

  ⌈Exit⌉

  INNOGEN

  About some half hour hence, pray you speak with me.

  You shall at least go see my lord aboard.

  For this time leave me.

  Exeunt severally

  1.2 Enter Cloten and two Lords

  FIRST LORD Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt. The violence of action hath made you reek as a sacrifice. Where air comes out, air comes in. There’s none abroad so wholesome as that you vent.

  CLOTEN If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Have I hurt him?

  SECOND LORD (aside) No, faith, not so much as his patience.

  FIRST LORD Hurt him? His body’s a passable carcass if he be not hurt. It is a thoroughfare for steel if he be not hurt.

  SECOND LORD (aside) His steel was in debt—it went o’th’ backside the town.

  CLOTEN The villain would not stand me.

  SECOND LORD (aside) No, but he fled forward still, toward your face.

  FIRST LORD Stand you? You have land enough of your own, but he added to your having, gave you some ground.

  SECOND LORD (aside) As many inches as you have oceans. Puppies!

  CLOTEN I would they had not come between us.

  SECOND LORD (aside) So would I, till you had measured how long a fool you were upon the ground.

  CLOTEN And that she should love this fellow and refuse me!

  SECOND LORD (aside) If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damned.

  FIRST LORD Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not together. She’s a good sign, but I have seen small reflection of her wit.

  SECOND LORD (aside) She shines not upon fools lest the reflection should hurt her.

  CLOTEN Come, I’ll to my chamber. Would there had been some hurt done.

  SECOND LORD (aside) I wish not so, unless it had been the fall of an ass, which is no great hurt.

  CLOTEN (to Second Lord) You’ll go with us?

  FIRST LORD I’ll attend your lordship.

  CLOTEN Nay, come, let’s go together.

  SECOND LORD Well, my lord.

  Exeunt

  1.3 Enter Innogen and Pisanio

  INNOGEN

  I would thou grew‘st unto the shores o’th’ haven

  And questionedst every sail. If he should write

  And I not have it, ’twere a paper lost

  As offered mercy is. What was the last

  That he spake to thee?

  PISANIO

  It was his queen, his queen.

  INNOGEN

  Then waved his handkerchief?

  PISANIO

  And kissed it, madam.

  INNOGEN

  Senseless linen, happier therein than I!

  And that was all?

  PISANIO

  No, madam. For so long

  As he could make me with this eye or ear

  Distinguish him from others he did keep

  The deck, with glove or hat or handkerchief

  Still waving, as the fits and stirs of ’s mind

  Could best express how slow his soul sailed on,

  How swift his ship.

  INNOGEN

  Thou shouldst have made him

  As little as a crow, or less, ere left

  To after-eye him.

  PISANIO

  Madam, so I did.

  INNOGEN

  I would have broke mine eye-strings, cracked them,

  but

  To look upon him till the diminution

  Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle;

  Nay, followed him till he had melted from

  The smallness of a gnat to air, and then

  Have turned mine eye and wept. But, good Pisanio,

  When shall we hear from him?

  PISANIO Be assured, madam,

  With his next vantage.

  INNOGEN

  I did not take my leave of him, but had

  Most pretty things to say. Ere I could tell him

  How I would think on him at certain hours,

  Such thoughts and such, or I could make him swear

  The shes of Italy should not betray

  Mine interest and his honour, or have charged him

  At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight

  T’encounter me with orisons—for then

  I am in heaven for him—or ere I could

  Give him that parting kiss which I had set

  Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father,

  And, like the tyrannous breathing of the north,

  Shakes all our buds from growing.

  Enter a Lady

  LADY

  The Queen, madam,

  Desires your highness’ company.

  INNOGEN (to Pisanio)

  Those things I bid you do, get them dispatched.

  I will attend the Queen.

  PISANIO

  Madam, I shall.

  Exeunt Innogen and Lady at one door, Pisanio at another

  1.4 ⌈A table brought out, with a banquet upon it.⌉ Enter Filario, Giacomo, a Frenchman, a Dutchman, and a Spaniard

  GIACOMO Believe it, sir, I have seen him in Britain. He was then of a crescent note, expected to prove so worthy as since he hath been allowed the name of. But I could then have looked on him without the help of admiration, though the catalogue of his endowments had been tabled by his side and I to peruse him by items.

  FILARIO You speak of him when he was less furnished than now he is with that which makes him both without and within.

  FRENCHMAN I have seen him in France. We had very many there could behold the sun with as firm eyes as he.

  GIACOMO This matter of marrying his king’s daughter, wherein he must be weighed rather by her value than his own, words him, I doubt not, a great deal from the matter.

  FRENCHMAN And then his banishment.

  GIACOMO Ay, and the approbation of those that weep this lamentable divorce under her colours are wonderfully to extend him, be it but to fortify her judgement, which else an easy battery might lay flat for taking a beggar without less quality. But how comes it he is to sojourn with you? How creeps acquaintance?

  FILARIO His father and I were soldiers together, to whom I have been often bound for no less than my life.

  Enter Posthumus

  Here comes the Briton. Let him be so entertained amongst you as suits with gentlemen of your knowing to a stranger of his quality. I beseech you all, be better known to this gentleman, whom I commend to you as a noble friend of mine. How worthy he is I will leave to appear hereafter rather than story him in his own hearing.

  FRENCHMAN (to Posthumus) Sir, we have known together in Orléans.

  POSTHUMUS Since when I have been debtor to you for courtesies which I will be ever to pay, and yet pay still.

  FRENCHMAN Sir, you o’er-rate my poor kindness. I was glad I did atone my countryman and you. It had been pity you should have been put together with so mortal a purpose as then each bore, upon importance of so slight and trivial a nature.

  POSTHUMUS By your pardon, sir, I was then a young traveller, rather shunned to go even with what I heard than in my every action to be guided by others’ experiences; but upon my mended judgement—if I offend not to say it is mended—my quarrel was not altogether slight.

  FRENCHMAN Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitrement of swords, and by such two that would by all likelihood have confounded one the other, or have fallen both.

  GIACOMO Can we with manners ask what was the difference?

  FRENCHMAN Safely, I think. ’Twas a contention in public, which may without contradiction suffer the report. It was much like an argument that fell out last night, where each of us fell in praise of our country mistresses, this gentleman at that time vouching—and upon warrant of bloody affirmation—his to be more fair, virtuous, wise, chaste, constant, qualified, and less attemptable than any the rarest of our ladies in France.

  GIACOM
O That lady is not now living, or this gentleman’s opinion by this worn out.

  POSTHUMUS She holds her virtue still, and I my mind.

  GIACOMO You must not so far prefer her fore ours of Italy.

  POSTHUMUS Being so far provoked as I was in France I would abate her nothing, though I profess myself her adorer, not her friend.

  GIACOMO As fair and as good—a kind of hand-in-hand comparison—had been something too fair and too good for any lady in Britain. If she went before others I have seen—as that diamond of yours outlustres many I have beheld—I could not but believe she excelled many; but I have not seen the most precious diamond that is, nor you the lady.

  POSTHUMUS I praised her as I rated her; so do I my stone.

  GIACOMO What do you esteem it at?

  POSTHUMUS More than the world enjoys.

  GIACOMO Either your unparagoned mistress is dead, or she’s outprized by a trifle.

  POSTHUMUS You are mistaken. The one may be sold or given, or if there were wealth enough for the purchase or merit for the gift. The other is not a thing for sale, and only the gift of the gods.

  GIACOMO Which the gods have given you?

  POSTHUMUS Which, by their graces, I will keep.

  GIACOMO You may wear her in title yours; but, you know, strange fowl light upon neighbouring ponds. Your ring may be stolen too; so your brace of unprizable estimations, the one is but frail, and the other casual. A cunning thief or a that-way accomplished courtier would hazard the winning both of first and last.

  POSTHUMUS Your Italy contains none so accomplished a courtier to convince the honour of my mistress if in the holding or loss of that you term her frail. I do nothing doubt you have store of thieves; notwithstanding, I fear not my ring.

  FILARIO Let us leave here, gentlemen.

  POSTHUMUS Sir, with all my heart. This worthy signor, I thank him, makes no stranger of me. We are familiar at first.

  GIACOMO With five times so much conversation I should get ground of your fair mistress, make her go back even to the yielding, had I admittance and opportunity to friend.

  POSTHUMUS No, no.

  GIACOMO I dare thereupon pawn the moiety of my estate to your ring, which in my opinion o’ervalues it something. But I make my wager rather against your confidence than her reputation, and, to bar your offence herein too, I durst attempt it against any lady in the world. in

  POSTHUMUS You are a great deal abused in too bold a persuasion, and I doubt not you sustain what you’re worthy of by your attempt.

  GIACOMO What’s that?

  POSTHUMUS A repulse; though your attempt, as you call it, deserve more—a punishment, too.

  FILARIO Gentlemen, enough of this. It came in too suddenly. Let it die as it was born; and, I pray you, be better acquainted.

  GIACOMO Would I had put my estate and my neighbour’s on th’approbation of what I have spoke.

  POSTHUMUS What lady would you choose to assail?

  GIACOMO Yours, whom in constancy you think stands so safe. I will lay you ten thousand ducats to your ring that, commend me to the court where your lady is, with no more advantage than the opportunity of a second conference, and I will bring from thence that honour of hers which you imagine so reserved.

  POSTHUMUS I will wage against your gold, gold to it; my ring I hold dear as my finger, ’tis part of it.

  GIACOMO You are a friend, and therein the wiser. If you buy ladies’ flesh at a million a dram, you cannot preserve it from tainting. But I see you have some religion in you, that you fear.

  POSTHUMUS This is but a custom in your tongue. You bear a graver purpose, I hope.

  GIACOMO I am the master of my speeches, and would undergo what’s spoken, I swear.

  POSTHUMUS Will you? I shall but lend my diamond till your return. Let there be covenants drawn between ’s. My mistress exceeds in goodness the hugeness of your unworthy thinking. I dare you to this match. Here’s my ring.

  FILARIO I will have it no lay.

  GIACOMO By the gods, it is one. If I bring you no sufficient testimony that I have enjoyed the dearest bodily part of your mistress, my ten thousand ducats are yours; so is your diamond too. If I come off and leave her in such honour as you have trust in, she your jewel, this your jewel, and my gold are yours, provided I have your commendation for my more free entertainment.

  POSTHUMUS I embrace these conditions; let us have articles betwixt us. Only thus far you shall answer: if you make your voyage upon her and give me directly to understand you have prevailed, I am no further your enemy; she is not worth our debate. If she remain unseduced, you not making it appear otherwise, for your ill opinion and th’assault you have made to her chastity you shall answer me with your sword.

  GIACOMO Your hand, a covenant. We will things set down by lawful counsel, and straight away for Britain, lest the bargain should catch cold and starve. I will fetch my gold and have our two wagers recorded.

  POSTHUMUS Agreed.

  ⌈Exit with Giacomo⌉

  FRENCHMAN Will this hold, think you?

  FILARIO Signor Giacomo will not from it. Pray let us follow ’em.

  Exeunt. ⌈Table is removed⌉

  1.5 Enter Queen, Ladies, and Cornelius, a doctor

  QUEEN

  Whiles yet the dew’s on ground, gather those flowers.

  Make haste. Who has the note of them?

  A LADY

  I, madam.

  QUEEN Dispatch.

  Exeunt Ladies

  Now, Master Doctor, have you brought those drugs?

  CORNELIUS

  Pleaseth your highness, ay. Here they are, madam.

  He gives her a box

  But I beseech your grace, without offence—

  My conscience bids me ask—wherefore you have

  Commanded of me these most poisonous compounds,

  Which are the movers of a languishing death,

  But though slow, deadly.

  QUEEN

  I wonder, doctor,

  Thou ask‘st me such a question. Have I not been

  Thy pupil long? Hast thou not learned me how

  To make perfumes, distil, preserve—yea, so

  That our great King himself doth woo me oft

  For my confections? Having thus far proceeded,

  Unless thou think’st me devilish, is’t not meet

  That I did amplify my judgement in

  Other conclusions? I will try the forces

  Of these thy compounds on such creatures as

  We count not worth the hanging, but none human,

  To try the vigour of them, and apply

  Allayments to their act, and by them gather

  Their several virtues and effects.

  CORNELIUS

  Your highness

  Shall from this practice but make hard your heart.

  Besides, the seeing these effects will be

  Both noisome and infectious.

  QUEEN

  O, content thee.

  Enter Pisanio

  (Aside) Here comes a flattering rascal; upon him

  Will I first work. He’s factor for his master,

  And enemy to my son. (Aloud) How now, Pisanio?—

  Doctor, your service for this time is ended.

  Take your own way.

  CORNELIUS (aside)

  I do suspect you, madam.

  But you shall do no harm.

  QUEEN (to Pisanio)

  Hark thee, a word.

  CORNELIUS (aside)

  I do not like her. She doth think she has

  Strange ling’ring poisons. I do know her spirit,

  And will not trust one of her malice with

  A drug of such damned nature. Those she has

  Will stupefy and dull the sense a while,

  Which first, perchance, she’ll prove on cats and dogs,

  Then afterward up higher; but there is

  No danger in what show of death it makes

  More than the locking up the spirits a time,

 
; To be more fresh, reviving. She is fooled

  With a most false effect, and I the truer

  So to be false with her.

  QUEEN

  No further service, doctor,

  Until I send for thee.

  CORNELIUS I humbly take my leave.

  Exit

  QUEEN (to Pisanio)

  Weeps she still, sayst thou? Dost thou think in time

  She will not quench, and let instructions enter

  Where folly now possesses? Do thou work.

  When thou shalt bring me word she loves my son

  I’ll tell thee on the instant thou art then

  As great as is thy master—greater, for

  His fortunes all lie speechless, and his name

  Is at last gasp. Return he cannot, nor

  Continue where he is. To shift his being

  Is to exchange one misery with another,

  And every day that comes comes to decay

  A day’s work in him. What shalt thou expect

  To be depender on a thing that leans,

  Who cannot be new built nor has no friends

  So much as but to prop him?

  ⌈She drops her box. He takes it up⌉

  Thou tak’st up

  Thou know‘st not what; but take it for thy labour.

  It is a thing I made which hath the King

  Five times redeemed from death. I do not know

  What is more cordial. Nay, I prithee take it.

  It is an earnest of a farther good

  That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how

  The case stands with her; do’t as from thyself.

  Think what a chance thou changest on, but think

  Thou hast thy mistress still; to boot, my son,

  Who shall take notice of thee. I’ll move the King

  To any shape of thy preferment, such

  As thou’lt desire; and then myself, I chiefly,

  That set thee on to this desert, am bound

  To load thy merit richly. Call my women.

  Think on my words.

  Exit Pisanio

  A sly and constant knave,

  Not to be shaked; the agent for his master,

  And the remembrancer of her to hold

  The hand-fast to her lord. I have given him that

  Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her