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Pif. If not at Court,
Then not in Britaine must you 'bide.
Imo. Where then?
Hath Britaine all the Sun that Mines ? Day, night,
Are they not but in Britaine ? I'th' world's volume
Our Britaine feems as of it, but not in it;
In a great pool, a swan's nest. Pr’ythee, think,
There's living out of Britaine.
Pif. I'm moft glad,
You think of other place: th’ Ambassador,
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford-Haven
To-morrow. (15) Now, if you could wear a Mien
Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
That, which, t'appear itself, must not yet be,
But hy self-danger; you should tread a course
Pretty, and full of view; yea, haply, near
The residence of Pofthumus ; fo nigh, at lealt,
That though his actions were not visible,
Report should render him hourly to your car,
As truly as he moves.
Imo. Oh! for such means,
(Though peril to my modesty, not death on's)
I would adventure.
Pif. Weil then, here's the point :
You muß forget to be a woman; change
Command into obedience ; fear and niceness
(The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
Woman its pretty self,) to waggish courage;
Ready in gybes, quick-answer'd, faucy, and
Now, if you could wear a Mind Dark as your Fortune is,] But the Disguise of her Person is the only Thing which Pisanio is here advising; not that the should ftife any Qualifications or Beauties of her Mind. I therefore think, we may fafely read;
Now, if you could wear a Mien Dark as your Fortune is, Or, according to the French Orthography, from whence, I presume, arose the Corruption ; Now, if you could wear a Mine.
As quarrellous as the weazel: (16) nay, you must
Forget that rarest treasure of
Exposing it (but, oh, the harder Hap!
Alack, no remedy) to the greedy touch
Of common-kifling Titan; and forget
Your laboursome and dainty trims, wherein
You made great Juno angry.
Imo. Nay, be brief:
I see into thy end, and am almost
A man already.
Pif. 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
Present yourself, defire his service, (17) tell him
- nay, you must
Forget that rarejt Treasure of your Cheek;
Exposing it, (but ob ibe barder Heart,
Alack, no Remedy.] Now, who does this barder Heart relate to? Pofbumus is not here talk'd of, besides, he knew Nothing of her being thus expos'd to the Inclemencies of Weather: He had enjoyn'd a Course, which would have secur'd her from these incidental Hardships. I think, common sense obliges us to read :
But, ob, the harder Hap!
i. e. the more cruel your Fortune, that you must be oblig'd to such Shifts.
Wherein you're bappy, wbich will make him know,
If that bis Head have ear in Mufick, doubtless
With joy be will embrace you ;] Thus, all the Editions : But, surely, the Passage is faulty both in the Text and Pointing. Whicb will make him know, what? What Connection has this with the rest of the Sentence ? Shakespeare can't be suspected, certainly, of so bald a Meaning as this ; If you'll tell him wherein you are happy, That will make bim know wherein you're bappy : and yet, this is the only Meaning, I think, the Words
can carry, as they now stand. I take the Poet's Sense to be this. Pifanio tells Imogen, if the would disguise herself in the Habit of a Youth,
Wherein you're happy; (which will make him fo,
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 supply.
Imo. Thou'rt all the comfort
The Gods will diet me with. Prythee, away.
There's more to be consider'd; but we'll even
All that good time will give us. This attempt
I'm soldier to, and will abide it with
A Prince's courage. Away, I pr’ythee.
Pif. Well, Madam, we must take a short farewel;
Left, being miss’d, I be suspected of
Your carriage from the Court. My noble Mistress,
Here is a box; I had it from the Queen,
What's in't is precious : if you're sick at sea,
Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this
Will drive away distemper - To fome shade,
And fit you to your manhood; may the Gods
Direct you to the best!
Imo. Amen : I thank thee. [Exeunt, severally.
SCENE changes to the Palace of Cymbeline. Enter Cymbeline, Queen, Cloten, Lucius, and Lords.
Cym. IU S far, and so farewel.
Luc. Thanks, royal Sir.
My Emperor hath wrote; I must from hence;
present herself before Lucius the Roman General, offer her Service, and tell him wherein she was happy, i. e. what an excellent Talent The had in Singing; this would make him happy, if he had an Ear for Mufick, and he would gladly receive her. For, afterwards, Belarius and Arviragus, talking of Imogen, give this Description of her, whom they take for a Boy.
Bel. This Youth, howe'er distrest, seems to bave bad
Arv. How Angel-like be fings!
And am right forry, that I must report ye
My master's enemy.
Gym. Our Subjects, Sir,
Will not endure his yoke ; and for ourself
To fhew less Sovereignty than they, must needs
Luc. So, Sir : I defire of you
A conduct over land, to Milford-Haven.
Madam, all joy befal your Grace, and you !
Cym. My Lords, you are appointed for that office;
The due of Honour in no point omit:
So farewel, noble Lucius.
kuc. Your hand, my Lord.
Clot. Receive it friendly; but from this time forth I wear it as your enemy.
Luc. Th' event
Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well.
Cym. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my Lords, 'Till he have croft the Severn. Happiness
[Exit Lucius, &c. Queen. He goes hence frowning ; but it honours usg. That we have giv'n him cause.
Clot. 'Tis all the better ;
Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.
Cym. Lucius hath wrote already to the Emperor,
here. It fits us therefore ripely,
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness ;
The Powers, that he already hath in Gallia,
Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves
His war for Britaine.
Queen. 'Tis not sleepy business ;
But must be look'd to speedily, and strongly.
Cym. Our expectation, that it should be thus,
Hath made us forward. But, my gentle Queen,
Where is our Daughter? She hath, not appeard
Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd
The duty of the day. She looks as like
A thing more made of malice, than of duty;
We've noted it. Call her before us, for
We've been too light in sufferance.
[Exit a Servant.
I have the placing of the British crown.
Pijanio, thou that standit fo for Posthumus ! -
He hath a drug of mine; I pray, his absence
It is a thing most precious. But for her,
Proceed by swallowing that; for he believes,
Where is she gone? haply, despair hath feiz'd' her;
Or, wing'd with fervor of her love, she's flown
To her desir'd Pobumus; gone she is
To death, or to dishonour; and
Can make good use of either. She being down, 1.
Queen. Royal Sir,
Since the exile of Pofthumus, most retir’d
Hath her lise been the cure whereof, my Lord,
'Tis time muft do. Beseech your Majesty,
Forbear sharp speeches to her. She's a lady
So tender of rebukes, that words are strokes,
And strokes death to her.
Re-enter the Servant,
Cym. Where is the, Sir? how
Can her contempt be ansiver'd ?
Her chambers are all lock’d, and there's no answer
That will be given to th’loudeft noise we make.
Queen. My Lord, when laft I went to visit her,
She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close ;
Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity,
She hould 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 mem'ry.
Cym. Her doors lock'd ?
Not seen of late : grant heav’ns, that, which I fear,
: Queen. Son, I say, follow the King.
I have not seen these two days.
Clot. That man of hers
, Pifania, her old fervant,
[Exit. Queen. Go, look after