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Cymbeline (Folio 1, 1623)

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Jennifer Forsyth
Peer Reviewed
The Tragedy of Cymbeline.
375
Slauuer with lippes as common as the stayres
That mount the Capitoll: Ioyne gripes, with hands
Made hard with hourely falshood (falshood as
720With labour:) then by peeping in an eye
Base and illustrious as the smoakie light
That's fed with stinking Tallow: it were fit
That all the plagues of Hell should at one time
Encounter such reuolt.
725Imo. My Lord, I feare
Has forgot Brittaine.
Iach. And himselfe, not I
Inclin'd to this intelligence, pronounce
The Beggery of his change: but 'tis your Graces'
730That from my mutest Conscience, to my tongue,
Charmes this report out.
Imo. Let me heare no more.
Iach. O deerest Soule: your Cause doth strike my hart
With pitty, that doth make me sicke. A Lady
735So faire, and fasten'd to an Emperie
Would make the great'st King double, to be partner'd
With Tomboyes hyr'd, with that selfe exhibition
Which your owne Coffers yeeld: with diseas'd ventures
That play with all Infirmities for Gold,
740Which rottennesse can lend Nature. Such boyl'd stuffe
As well might poyson Poyson. Be reueng'd,
Or she that bore you, was no Queene, and you
Recoyle from your great Stocke.
Imo. Reueng'd:
745How should I be reueng'd? If this be true,
(As I haue such a Heart, that both mine eares
Must not in haste abuse) if it be true,
How should I be reueng'd?
Iach. Should he make me
750Liue like Diana's Priest, betwixt cold sheets,
Whiles he is vaulting variable Rampes
In your despight, vpon your purse: reuenge it.
I dedicate my selfe to your sweet pleasure,
More Noble then that runnagate to your bed,
755And will continue fast to your Affection,
Still close, as sure.
Imo. What hoa, Pisanio?
Iach. Let me my seruice tender on your lippes.
Imo. Away, I do condemne mine eares, that haue
760So long attended thee. If thou wert Honourable
Thou would'st haue told this tale for Vertue, not
For such an end thou seek'st, as base, as strange:
Thou wrong'st a Gentleman, who is as farre
From thy report, as thou from Honor: and
765Solicites heere a Lady, that disdaines
Thee, and the Diuell alike. What hoa, Pisanio?
The King my Father shall be made acquainted
Of thy Assault: if he shall thinke it fit,
A sawcy Stranger in his Court, to Mart
770As in a Romish Stew, and to expound
His beastly minde to vs; he hath a Court
He little cares for, and a Daughter, who
He not respects at all. What hoa, Pisanio?
Iach. O happy Leonatus I may say,
775The credit that thy Lady hath of thee
Deserues thy trust, and thy most perfect goodnesse
Her assur'd credit. Blessed liue you long,
A Lady to the worthiest Sir, that euer
Country call'd his; and you his Mistris, onely
780For the most worthiest fit. Giue me your pardon,
I haue spoke this to know if your Affiance
Were deeply rooted, and shall make your Lord,
That which he is, new o're: And he is one
The truest manner'd: such a holy Witch,
785That he enchants Societies into him:
Halfe all men hearts are his.
Imo. You make amends.
Iach. He sits 'mongst men, like a defended God;
He hath a kinde of Honor sets him off,
790More then a mortall seeming. Be not angrie
(Most mighty Princesse) that I haue aduentur'd
To try your taking of a false report, which hath
Honour'd with confirmation your great Iudgement,
In the election of a Sir, so rare,
795Which you know, cannot erre. The loue I beare him,
Made me to fan you thus, but the Gods made you
(Vnlike all others) chaffelesse. Pray your pardon.
Imo. All's well Sir:
Take my powre i'th'Court for yours.
800Iach. My humble thankes: I had almost forgot
T'intreat your Grace, but in a small request,
And yet of moment too, for it concernes:
Your Lord, my selfe, and other Noble Friends
Are partners in the businesse.
805Imo. Pray what is't?
Iach. Some dozen Romanes of vs, and your Lord
(The best Feather of our wing) haue mingled summes
To buy a Present for the Emperor:
Which I (the Factor for the rest) haue done
810In France: 'tis Plate of rare deuice, and Iewels
Of rich, and exquisite forme, their valewes great,
And I am something curious, being strange
To haue them in safe stowage: May it please you
To take them in protection.
815Imo. Willingly:
And pawne mine Honor for their safety, since
My Lord hath interest in them, I will keepe them
In my Bed-chamber.
Iach. They are in a Trunke
820Attended by my men: I will make bold
To send them to you, onely for this night:
I must aboord to morrow.
Imo. O no, no.
Iach. Yes I beseech: or I shall short my word
825By length'ning my returne. From Gallia,
I crost the Seas on purpose, and on promise
To see your Grace.
Imo. I thanke you for your paines:
But not away to morrow.
830Iach. O I must Madam.
Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please
To greet your Lord with writing, doo't to night,
I haue out-stood my time, which is materiall
To'th'tender of our Present.
835Imo. I will write:
Send your Trunke to me, it shall safe be kept,
And truely yeelded you: you're very welcome.
Exeunt.


Actus Secundus. Scena Prima.


Enter Clotten, and the two Lords.
840Clot. Was there euer man had such lucke? when I kist
the Iacke vpon an vp-cast, to be hit away? I had a hun-
dred pound on't: and then a whorson Iacke-an-Apes,
must