The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

by William Shakespeare

  Of liegers for her sweet, and which she after,

  Except she bend her humour, shall be assured

  To taste of too.

  Enter Pisanio and Ladies

  So, so; well done, well done.

  The violets, cowslips, and the primroses

  Bear to my closet. Fare thee well, Pisanio.

  Think on my words, Pisanio.

  PISANIO

  And shall do.

  Exeunt Queen and Ladies

  But when to my good lord I prove untrue,

  I’ll choke mysetf—there’s all I’ll do for you.

  Exit

  1.6 Enter Innogen

  INNOGEN

  A father cruel and a stepdame false,

  A foolish suitor to a wedded lady

  That hath her husband banished. O, that husband,

  My supreme crown of grief, and those repeated

  Vexations of it! Had I been thief-stol‘n,

  As my two brothers, happy; but most miserable

  Is the desire that’s glorious. Blest be those,

  How mean soe’er, that have their honest wills,

  Which seasons comfort.

  Enter Pisanio and Giacomo

  Who may this be? Fie!

  PISANIO

  Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome

  Comes from my lord with letters.

  GIACOMO

  Change you, madam?

  The worthy Leonatus is in safety,

  And greets your highness dearly.

  He gives her the letters

  INNOGEN

  Thanks, good sir.

  You’re kindly welcome.

  She reads the letters

  GIACOMO (aside)

  All of her that is out of door most rich!

  If she be furnished with a mind so rare

  She is alone, th’Arabian bird, and I

  Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend;

  Arm me audacity from head to foot,

  Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight;

  Rather, directly fly.

  INNOGEN (reads aloud) ’He is one of the noblest note, to whose kindnesses I am most infinitely tied. Reflect upon him accordingly, as you value

  Your truest

  Leonatus.’

  (To Giacomo) So far I read aloud,

  But even the very middle of my heart

  Is warmed by th’ rest, and takes it thankfully.

  You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I

  Have words to bid you, and shall find it so

  In all that I can do.

  GIACOMO

  Thanks, fairest lady.

  What, are men mad? Hath nature given them eyes

  To see this vaulted arch and the rich crop

  Of sea and land, which can distinguish ‘twixt

  The fiery orbs above and the twinned stones

  Upon th’unnumbered beach, and can we not

  Partition make with spectacles so precious

  ’Twixt fair and foul?

  INNOGEN

  What makes your admiration?

  GIACOMO

  It cannot be i‘th’ eye—for apes and monkeys,

  ’Twixt two such shes, would chatter this way and

  Contemn with mows the other; nor i‘th’ judgement,

  For idiots in this case of favour would

  Be wisely definite; nor i’th’ appetite—

  Sluttery, to such neat excellence opposed,

  Should make desire vomit emptiness,

  Not so allured to feed.

  INNOGEN What is the matter, trow?

  GIACOMO The cloyed will,

  That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, that tub

  Both filled and running, ravening first the lamb,

  Longs after for the garbage.

  INNOGEN

  What, dear sir,

  Thus raps you? Are you well?

  GIACOMO

  Thanks, madam, well. (To Pisanio) Beseech you, sir,

  Desire my man’s abode where I did leave him.

  He’s strange and peevish.

  PISANIO

  I was going, sir,

  To give him welcome.

  Exit

  INNOGEN Continues well my lord?

  His health, beseech you?

  GIACOMO

  Well, madam.

  INNOGEN

  Is he disposed to mirth? I hope he is.

  GIACOMO

  Exceeding pleasant, none a stranger there

  So merry and so gamesome. He is called

  The Briton Reveller.

  INNOGEN

  When he was here

  He did incline to sadness, and oft-times

  Not knowing why.

  GIACOMO

  I never saw him sad.

  There is a Frenchman his companion, one

  An eminent monsieur that, it seems, much loves

  A Gallian girl at home. He furnaces

  The thick sighs from him, whiles the jolly Briton—

  Your lord, I mean—laughs from ’s free lungs,

  cries ‘O,

  Can my sides hold, to think that man, who knows

  By history, report or his own proof

  What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose

  But must be, will ’s free hours languish

  For assured bondage?’

  INNOGEN

  Will my lord say so?

  GIACOMO

  Ay, madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter.

  It is a recreation to be by

  And hear him mock the Frenchman. But heavens

  know

  Some men are much to blame.

  INNOGEN

  Not he, I hope.

  GIACOMO

  Not he; but yet heaven’s bounty towards him might

  Be used more thankfully. In himself ’tis much;

  In you, which I count his, beyond all talents.

  Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound

  To pity too.

  INNOGEN

  What do you pity, sir?

  GIACOMO

  Two creatures heartily.

  INNOGEN

  Am I one, sir?

  You look on me; what wreck discern you in me

  Deserves your pity?

  GIACOMO

  Lamentablel What,

  To hide me from the radiant sun, and solace

  I’th’ dungeon by a snuff?

  INNOGEN

  I pray you, sir,

  Deliver with more openness your answers

  To my demands. Why do you pity me?

  GIACOMO That others do—

  I was about to say enjoy your—but

  It is an office of the gods to venge it,

  Not mine to speak on’t.

  INNOGEN

  You do seem to know

  Something of me, or what concerns me. Pray you,

  Since doubting things go ill often hurts more

  Than to be sure they do—for certainties

  Either are past remedies, or, timely knowing,

  The remedy then born—discover to me

  What both you spur and stop.

  GIACOMO

  Had I this cheek

  To bathe my lips upon; this hand whose touch,

  Whose every touch, would force the feeler’s soul

  To th’oath of loyalty; this object which

  Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye,

  Firing it only here: should I, damned then,

  Slaver with lips as common as the stairs

  That mount the Capitol; join grips with hands

  Made hard with hourly falsehood—faisehood as

  With labour; then by-peeping in an eye

  Base and illustrous as the smoky light

  That’s fed with stinking tallow—it were fit

  That all the plagues of hell should at one time

  Encounter such revolt.

  INNOGEN

  My lord, I fear,

  Has forgot Britain.

 
; GIACOMO

  And himself. Not I

  Inclined to this intelligence pronounce

  The beggary of his change, but ’tis your graces

  That from my mutest conscience to my tongue

  Charms this report out.

  INNOGEN

  Let me hear no more.

  GIACOMO

  O dearest soul, your cause doth strike my heart

  With pity that doth make me sick. A lady

  So fair, and fastened to an empery

  Would make the great’st king double, to be partnered

  With tomboys hired with that self exhibition

  Which your own coffers yield; with diseased ventures

  That play with all infirmities for gold

  Which rottenness can lend to nature; such boiled stuff

  As well might poison poison! Be revenged,

  Or she that bore you was no queen, and you

  Recoil from your great stock.

  INNOGEN

  Revenged?

  How should I be revenged? If this be true—

  As I have such a heart that both mine ears

  Must not in haste abuse—if it be true,

  How should I be revenged?

  GIACOMO

  Should he make me

  Live like Diana’s priest betwixt cold sheets

  Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps,

  In your despite, upon your purse—revenge it.

  I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure,

  More noble than that runagate to your bed,

  And will continue fast to your affection,

  Still close as sure.

  INNOGEN

  What ho, Pisanio!

  GIACOMO

  Let me my service tender on your lips.

  INNOGEN

  Away, I do condemn mine ears that have

  So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable

  Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not

  For such an end thou seek‘st, as base as strange.

  Thou wrong’st a gentleman who is as far

  From thy report as thou from honour, and

  Solicit’st here a lady that disdains

  Thee and the devil alike. What ho, Pisanio!

  The King my father shall be made acquainted

  Of thy assault. If he shall think it fit

  A saucy stranger in his court to mart

  As in a Romish stew, and to expound

  His beastly mind to us, he hath a court

  He little cares for, and a daughter who

  He not respects at all. What ho, Pisanio!

  GIACOMO

  O happy Leonatus! I may say

  The credit that thy lady hath of thee

  Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect goodness

  Her assured credit. Blessed live you long,

  A lady to the worthiest sir that ever

  Country called his; and you his mistress, only

  For the most worthiest fit. Give me your pardon.

  I have spoke this to know if your affiance

  Were deeply rooted, and shall make your lord

  That which he is new o’er; and he is one

  The truest mannered, such a holy witch

  That he enchants societies into him;

  Half all men’s hearts are his.

  INNOGEN

  You make amends.

  GIACOMO

  He sits ’mongst men like a descended god.

  He hath a kind of honour sets him off

  More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry,

  Most mighty princess, that I have adventured

  To try your taking of a false report, which hath

  Honoured with confirmation your great judgement

  In the election of a sir so rare

  Which you know cannot err. The love I bear him

  Made me to fan you thus, but the gods made you,

  Unlike all others, chaffless. Pray, your pardon.

  INNOGEN

  All’s well, sir. Take my power i’th’ court for yours.

  GIACOMO

  My humble thanks. I had almost forgot

  T’entreat your grace but in a small request,

  And yet of moment too, for it concerns

  Your lord; myself and other noble friends

  Are partners in the business.

  INNOGEN

  Pray what is’t?

  GIACOMO

  Some dozen Romans of us, and your lord—

  Best feather of our wing—have mingled sums

  To buy a present for the Emperor,

  Which I, the factor for the rest, have done

  In France. ’Tis plate of rare device, and jewels

  Of rich and exquisite form; their value’s great,

  And I am something curious, being strange,

  To have them in safe stowage. May it please you

  To take them in protection?

  INNOGEN

  Willingly,

  And pawn mine honour for their safety; since

  My lord hath interest in them, I will keep them

  In my bedchamber.

  GIACOMO

  They are in a trunk

  Attended by my men. I will make bold

  To send them to you, only for this night.

  I must aboard tomorrow.

  INNOGEN

  O, no, no!

  GIACOMO

  Yes, I beseech, or I shall short my word

  By length’ning my return. From Gallia

  I crossed the seas on purpose and on promise

  To see your grace.

  INNOGEN

  I thank you for your pains;

  But not away tomorrow!

  GIACOMO

  O, I must, madam.

  Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please

  To greet your lord with writing, do’t tonight.

  I have outstood my time, which is material

  To th’ tender of our present.

  INNOGEN

  I will write.

  Send your trunk to me, it shall safe be kept,

  And truly yielded you. You’re very welcome.

  Exeunt severally

  2.1 Enter Cloten and the two Lords

  CLOTEN Was there ever man had such luck? When I kissed the jack upon an upcast, to be hit away! I had a hundred pound on’t, and then a whoreson jackanapes must take me up for swearing, as if I borrowed mine oaths of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure.

  FIRST LORD What got he by that? You have broke his pate with your bowl.

  SECOND LORD (aside) If his wit had been like him that broke it, it would have run all out.

  CLOTEN When a gentleman is disposed to swear it is not for any standers-by to curtail his oaths, ha?

  SECOND LORD No, my lord (aside)—nor crop the ears of them.

  CLOTEN Whoreson dog! I give him satisfaction? Would he had been one of my rank.

  SECOND LORD (aside) To have smelled like a fool.

  CLOTEN I am not vexed more at anything in th‘earth. A pox on’t, I had rather not be so noble as I am. They dare not fight with me because of the Queen, my mother. Every jack-slave hath his bellyful of fighting, and I must go up and down like a cock that nobody can match.

  SECOND LORD (aside) You are cock and capon too an you crow cock with your comb on.

  CLOTEN Sayst thou?

  SECOND LORD It is not fit your lordship should undertake every companion that you give offence to.

  CLOTEN No, I know that, but it is fit I should commit offence to my inferiors.

  SECOND LORD Ay, it is fit for your lordship only.

  CLOTEN Why, so I say.

  FIRST LORD Did you hear of a stranger that’s come to court tonight?

  CLOTEN A stranger, and I not know on’t?

  SECOND LORD (aside) He’s a strange fellow himself and knows it not.

  FIRST LORD There’s an Italian come, and, ’tis thought, one of Leonatus’ friends.

  CLOTEN Leonatus? A banished ra
scal; and he’s another, whatsoever he be. Who told you of this stranger?

  FIRST LORD One of your lordship’s pages.

  CLOTEN Is it fit I went to look upon him? Is there no derogation in’t?

  SECOND LORD You cannot derogate, my lord.

  CLOTEN Not easily, I think.

  SECOND LORD (aside) You are a fool granted, therefore your issues, being foolish, do not derogate.

  CLOTEN Come, I’ll go see this Italian. What I have lost today at bowls I’ll win tonight of him. Come, go.

  SECOND LORD I’ll attend your lordship.

  Exeunt Cloten and First Lord

  That such a crafty devil as is his mother

  Should yield the world this ass!—a woman that

  Bears all down with her brain, and this her son

  Cannot take two from twenty, for his heart,

  And leave eighteen. Alas, poor princess,

  Thou divine Innogen, what thou endur‘st,

  Betwixt a father by thy stepdame governed,

  A mother hourly coining plots, a wooer

  More hateful than the foul expulsion is

  Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act

  Of the divorce he’d make! The heavens hold firm

  The walls of thy dear honour, keep unshaked

  That temple, thy fair mind, that thou mayst stand

  T’enjoy thy banished lord and this great land! Exit

  2.2 A trunk ⌈and arras⌉. A bed is ⌈thrust forth⌉ with Innogen in it, reading a book. Enter to her Helen, a lady

  INNOGEN

  Who’s there? My woman Helen?

  HELEN Please you, madam.

  INNOGEN

  What hour is it?

  HELEN

  Almost midnight, madam.

  INNOGEN

  I have read three hours then. Mine eyes are weak.

  Fold down the leaf where I have left. To bed.

  Take not away the taper; leave it burning,

  And if thou canst awake by four o’th’ clock,

  I prithee call me. Sleep hath seized me wholly.

  ⌈Exit Helen⌉

  To your protection I commend me, gods.

  From fairies and the tempters of the night

  Guard me, beseech ye.

  She sleeps.

  Giacomo comes from the trunk

  GIACOMO

  The crickets sing, and man’s o‘er-laboured sense

  Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus

  Did softly press the rushes ere he wakened

  The chastity he wounded. Cytherea,

  How bravely thou becom’st thy bed! Fresh lily,

  And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch,

  But kiss, one kiss! Rubies unparagoned,

  How dearly they do‘t! ’Tis her breathing that

  Perfumes the chamber thus. The flame o‘th’ taper