That will be given to th' loud of noise we make.
If you please, sir,
her rooms are all locked, and there is no answer
to our loud knocking and calling.
QUEEN.
My lord, when last I went to visit her,
She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close;
Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity
She should that duty leave unpaid to you
Which daily she was bound to proffer. This
She wish'd me to make known; but our great court
Made me to blame in memory.
My Lord, when I last went to visit her,
she asked me to excuse her staying inside;
she was feeling ill which meant
she would be unable to pay you
her daily respects as she should. She
wanted me to tell you this; but the recent events
drove it out of my mind.
CYMBELINE.
Her doors lock'd?
Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that which I fear
Prove false!
Exit
Her doors are locked?
She hasn't been seen recently? Heaven grant
that my fears are false!
QUEEN.
Son, I say, follow the King.
Son, I'm telling you, follow the King.
CLOTEN.
That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant,
I have not seen these two days.
That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant,
I haven't seen for the past two days.
QUEEN.
Go, look after.
Exit CLOTEN
Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus!
He hath a drug of mine. I pray his absence
Proceed by swallowing that; for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her,
Where is she gone? Haply despair hath seiz'd her;
Or, wing'd with fervour of her love, she's flown
To her desir'd Posthumus. Gone she is
To death or to dishonour, and my end
Can make good use of either. She being down,
I have the placing of the British crown.
Re-enter CLOTEN
How now, my son?
Go, follow him.
Pisanio, the one who supports Posthumus!
He has my drugs. I pray his absence
comes from swallowing that; for he believes
they are good things. But as for her,
where has she gone? Maybe she's been overcome with despair:
or, spurred on by the strength of her love, she's gone
to her desired Posthumus: she's gone,
to death, or to disgrace, and either one
can suit my purposes. With her out of the picture,
the British crown is in my hands.
What's happening, my son?
CLOTEN.
'Tis certain she is fled.
Go in and cheer the King. He rages; none
Dare come about him.
It's certain she has fled.
Go in and cheer up the king. He is raging;
nobody dares go near him.
QUEEN.
All the better. May
This night forestall him of the coming day!
Exit
All the better. I hope
this rage will kill him!
CLOTEN.
I love and hate her; for she's fair and royal,
And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite
Than lady, ladies, woman. From every one
The best she hath, and she, of all compounded,
Outsells them all. I love her therefore; but
Disdaining me and throwing favours on
The low Posthumus slanders so her judgment
That what's else 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 PISANIO
Who is here? What, are you packing, sirrah?
Come hither. Ah, you precious pander! Villain,
Where is thy lady? In a word, or else
Thou art straightway with the fiends.
I love her and hate her; she's beautiful and regal,
and she has all the noble accomplishments better
than any other female. She has taken
the best of everybody, and she, made of them all,
outstrips them all. So I love her; but
rejecting me and giving herself
to the lowly Posthumus shows such bad judgement
that all her good qualities are spoiled: and due to that
I have come to hate her, in fact,
I will take vengeance upon her. For, when fools
shall–
Who is this? What, are you running away, sir?
Come here. Ah, you damned pimp! Villain,
where is your lady? Tell me at once,
or you're going straight to hell.
PISANIO.
O, good my lord!
Oh, my good lord!
CLOTEN.
Where is thy lady? or, by Jupiter-
I will not ask again. Close villain,
I'll have this secret from thy heart, or rip
Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus?
From whose so many weights of baseness cannot
A dram of worth be drawn.
Where is your lady? Or, by Jupiter–
I won't ask again. Sneaking villain,
I’ll get this secret out of your heart,
or rip your heart open to find it. Is she with Posthumus?
A person who has so many low qualities
that not a drop of good can come from him.
PISANIO.
Alas, my lord,
How can she be with him? When was she miss'd?
He is in Rome.
Alas, my lord,
how can she be with him? When did she go missing?
He is in Rome.
CLOTEN.
Where is she, sir? Come nearer.
No farther halting! Satisfy me home
What is become of her.
Where is she, sir? Come closer.
No more delay! Tell me the truth
about what has happened to her.
PISANIO.
O my all-worthy lord!
Oh my great lord!
CLOTEN.
All-worthy villain!
Discover where thy mistress is at once,
At the next word. No more of 'worthy lord'!
Speak, or thy silence on the instant is
Thy condemnation and thy death.
Great villain!
Tell me where your mistress is at once,
the next thing you say. No more of this ‘great lord’!
Speak, or your silence will instantly
condemn you to death.
PISANIO.
Then, sir,
This paper is the history of my knowledge
Touching her flight. [Presenting a letter]
Then, sir,
this letter contains everything I know
about her escape.
CLOTEN.
Let's see't. I will pursue her
Even to Augustus' throne.
Let's see it. I will chase
all the way to Rome.
PISANIO.
[Aside] Or this or perish.
She's far enough; and what he learns by this
May prove his travel, not her danger.
It was either this or die.
She's far enough away; what he learns from this
might give him trouble, it won't give her danger.
CLOTEN.
Humh!
Hmm!
PISANIO.
[Aside] I'll write to my lord she's dead. O Imogen,
Safe mayst thou wander, safe return again!
/> I'll write to my lord that she is dead. O Imogen,
may you be safe on your travels, and come home safe again!
CLOTEN.
Sirrah, is this letter true?
Sir, is this letter true?
PISANIO.
Sir, as I think.
I think it is, sir.
CLOTEN.
It is Posthumus' hand; I know't. Sirrah, if thou
wouldst
not be a villain, but do me true service, undergo those
employments wherein I should have cause to use thee with a
serious industry- that is, what villainy soe'er I bid thee
do, to
perform it directly and truly- I would think thee an honest
man;
thou shouldst neither want my means for thy relief nor my
voice
for thy preferment.
This is Posthumus' handwriting; I know it. Sir, if you
don't want to be a villain, but to serve me properly, undertake
the tasks which I set you with
great vigour–I mean, do whatever villainy I tell you to,
quickly and well–that would make me think of you as a good man;
you wouldn't be lacking for money and I would back
your promotion.
PISANIO.
Well, my good lord.
That sounds good, my good lord.
CLOTEN.
Wilt thou serve me? For since patiently and constantly
thou
hast stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar Posthumus, thou
canst not, in the course of gratitude, but be a diligent
follower
of mine. Wilt thou serve me?
Will you serve me? Seeing how you patiently and loyally
stuck to the empty fortunes of that beggar Posthumus, you
cannot, through gratitude, fail to be a constant
follower of mine. Will you serve me?
PISANIO.
Sir, I will.
Sir, I will.
CLOTEN.
Give me thy hand; here's my purse. Hast any of thy late
master's garments in thy possession?
Give me your hand; here's my purse. Do you have any
of your former master's clothes?
PISANIO.
I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit he wore
when
he took leave of my lady and mistress.
My lord, in my lodgings I have the same suit he wore
when he said goodbye to my lady and mistress.
CLOTEN.
The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit hither.
Let
it be thy first service; go.
The first job I want you to do is to fetch me that suit.
Let that be your first job; go.
PISANIO.
I shall, my lord.
Exit
I shall, my lord.
CLOTEN.
Meet thee at Milford Haven! I forgot to ask him one
thing;
I'll remember't anon. Even there, thou villain Posthumus,
will I
kill thee. I would these garments were come. She said upon a
time- the bitterness of it I now belch from my heart- that
she
held the very garment of Posthumus in more respect than my
noble
and natural person, together with the adornment of my
qualities.
With that suit upon my back will I ravish her; first kill
him,
and in her eyes. There shall she see my valour, which will
then
be a torment to her contempt. He on the ground, my speech of
insultment ended on his dead body, and when my lust hath
dined-
which, as I say, to vex her I will execute in the clothes
that
she so prais'd- to the court I'll knock her back, foot her
home
again. She hath despised me rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in
my
revenge.
Re-enter PISANIO, with the clothes
Be those the garments?
Meet you at Milford Haven! I forgot to ask him
one thing, I'll remember it soon. Right there, you
villain Posthumus, I will kill you. I wish those
clothes would come. She once said (I now
belch the bitterness of it out of my heart) that she
had more respect for the clothes of Posthumus
than for my noble living person, which is
made better through my accomplishments. With that suit on
my back, I shall rape her: first I'll kill him, within her
sight; that way she'll see my bravery, which will
make her contempt look stupid. With him on the ground,
when I have finished insulting his dead body,
and when I've satisfied my lust, which, as I say, to
upset her I will do wearing the clothes that she
praised, I'll throw her back to the court, send her home
again on foot. She enjoyed despising me,
so I'll enjoy my revenge.
Are those the clothes?
PISANIO.
Ay, my noble lord.
Yes, my noble lord.
CLOTEN.
How long is't since she went to Milford Haven?
How long ago did she go to Milford Haven?
PISANIO.
She can scarce be there yet.
She can hardly be there yet.
CLOTEN.
Bring this apparel to my chamber; that is the second
thing
that I have commanded thee. The third is that thou wilt be a
voluntary mute to my design. Be but duteous and true,
preferment
shall tender itself to thee. My revenge is now at Milford,
would
I had wings to follow it! Come, and be true.
Exit
Bring these clothes to my room; that is the second thing
I have ordered you to do. The third is that you
keep silent about my plans. Just work well and be loyal,
you will find you'll get ahead. My revenge is waiting at Milford,
I wish I had wings to follow it! Come on, and be true.
PISANIO.
Thou bid'st me to my loss; for true to thee
Were to prove false, which I will never be,
To him that is most true. To Milford go,
And find not her whom thou pursuits. Flow, flow,
You heavenly blessings, on her! This fool's speed
Be cross'd with slowness! Labour be his meed!
Exit
Your orders are lost on me; being true to you
would be to be false, which I will never be,
to the person who is really true. Go to Milford,
and don't find the one you're chasing. Pour down
all your blessings on her, heaven! Rein in
the speed of this fool; may trouble be his reward!
Enter IMOGEN alone, in boy's clothes
IMOGEN.
I see a man's life is a tedious one.
I have tir'd myself, and for two nights together
Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick
But that my resolution helps me. Milford,
When from the mountain-top Pisanio show'd thee,
Thou wast within a ken. O Jove! I think
Foundations fly the wretched; such, I mean,
Where they should be reliev'd. Two beggars told me
I could not miss my way. Will poor folks lie,
That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis
A punishment or trial? Yes; no wonder,
When rich ones scarce tell true. To lapse in fulness
Is sorer than to lie for need; and falsehood
Is worse in kings than b
eggars. My dear lord!
Thou art one o' th' false ones. Now I think on thee
My hunger's gone; but even before, I was
At point to sink for food. But what is this?
Here is a path to't; 'tis some savage hold.
I were best not call; I dare not call. Yet famine,
Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant.
Plenty and peace breeds cowards; hardness ever
Of hardiness is mother. Ho! who's here?
If anything that's civil, speak; if savage,
Take or lend. Ho! No answer? Then I'll enter.
Best draw my sword; and if mine enemy
But fear the sword, like me, he'll scarcely look on't.
Such a foe, good heavens!
Exit into the cave
I see that a man's life is a hard one,
I have worn myself out:two nights in a row
I have slept on the ground. I should be ill,
but my determination helps me: Milford,
when Pisanio showed me you from a mountaintop,
you were within view. O Jove! I think safe havens
fly away from the wretched: I mean, places
where they can get help. Two beggars told me
I couldn't go wrong. Do poor folks lie,
when they are suffering, knowing it is
a punishment or test? Yes; no wonder,
when rich ones hardly tell the truth. To lie when prosperous
is worse than lying when needy: andfalsehood
is worse in Kings than in beggars. My dear lord,
you are one of the false ones! Now when I think of you
my hunger is gone; but even before that I was
on the point of collapse through hunger–but what's this?
There is a path here to it: it is some savage's hideout:
I shouldn't call out; I dare not call out: but hunger,
before it kills me, makes me bold.
Peace and plenty makes cowards: hardship
makes people hard. Hello! Who's this?
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 510