Whose mother was her painting, hath betray'd him : And, for I am richer than to hang by the walls, Men's vows are women's traitors! All good seeming, But worn, a bait for ladies. Pis. Good madam, hear me. Imo. True honest men being heard, like false Æneas, Were, in his time, thought false: and Sinon's weeping From most true wretchedness: So, thou, Posthumus, But now thou seem'st a coward. Pis. Hence, vile instrument ! Thou shalt not damn my hand. Why, I must die; And if I do not by thy hand, thou art No servant of thy master's: Against self-slaughter • Likeness. There is a prohibition so divine, Something's afore't: -Soft, soft; we'll no defence; Obedient as the scabbard. - What is here? The scriptures 3 of the loyal Leonatus, All turn'd to heresy? Away, away, Corrupters of my faith! you shall no more And thou, Posthumus, thou that didst set up Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding, When I desire it too. Pis. : O gracious lady, Since I receiv'd command to do this business, I have not slept one wink. Imo. Do't, and to bed then. Pis. I'll wake mine eye-balls blind first. Wherefore then Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abus'd 2 Cowards. 3 The writings. 4 Feedest or preys on. Mine action, and thine own? our horses' labour? Purpose return? Why hast thou gone so far, The elected deer before thee? Pis. But to win time To lose so bad employment: in the which Hear me with patience. Imo. Talk thy tongue weary; speak: I have heard, I am a strumpet; and mine ear, Therein false struck, can take no greater wound, Nor tent to bottom that. But speak. But if I were as wise as honest, then My purpose would prove well. It cannot be, But that my master is abus'd: Some villain, ay, and singular in his art, Hath done you both this cursed injury. Imo. Some Roman courtezan. Pis. No, on my life. I'll give but notice you are dead, and send him And that will well confirm it. Imo. Why, good fellow, What shall I do the while? Where bide? How live? Or in my life what comfort, when I am Dead to my husband ? Pis. If you'll back to the court, Imo. No court, no father; nor no more ado With that harsh, noble, simple, nothing: That Cloten, whose love-suit hath been to me As fearful as a siege. Pis. If not at court, Where then? Then not in Britain must you bide. In a great pool, a swan's nest; Pr'ythee, think Pis. O, for such means! Though peril to my modesty, not death on't, I would adventure. Pis. Well then, here's the point: You must forget to be a woman; change Command into obedience; fear, and niceness, Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek, You made great Juno angry. Imo. Nay, be brief: I see into thy end, and am almost A man already. Pis. First, make yourself but like one. Fore-thinking this, I have already fit, ('Tis in my cloak-bag,) doublet, hat, hose, all That answer to them: Would you, in their serving, And with what imitation you can borrow From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucius Wherein you are happy, (which you'll make him know, If that his head have ear in musick,) doubtless, With joy he will embrace you; for he's honourable, And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad You have me," rich; and I will never fail Beginning, nor supplyment. Imo. 5 The sun. Thou art all the comfort i. e. Wherein you are accomplished. 7 As for your subsistence, abroad you may rely on me. |