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Enter PISANIO and IMOGEN.
Enter PISANIO and IMOGEN.
IMOGEN  
Thou told’st me, when we came from horse, the place
Was near at hand. Ne’er longed my mother so
To see me first as I have now. Pisanio, man,
Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind
5
That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that
   sigh
From th’ inward of thee? One but painted thus
Would be interpreted a thing perplexed
Beyond self-explication. Put thyself
10
Into a havior of less fear, ere wildness
Vanquish my staider senses. What’s the matter?
   PISANIO hands her a paper.
Why tender’st thou that paper to me with
A look untender? If ’t be summer news,
Smile to ’t before; if winterly, thou need’st
15
But keep that count’nance still. My husband’s hand!
That drug-damned Italy hath out-craftied him,
And he’s at some hard point. Speak, man! Thy tongue
May take off some extremity, which to read
Would be even mortal to me.
IMOGEN  
Thou told’st me, when we came from horse, the place
Was near at hand. Ne’er longed my mother so
To see me first as I have now. Pisanio, man,
Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind
That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that
   sigh
From th’ inward of thee? One but painted thus
Would be interpreted a thing perplexed
Beyond self-explication. Put thyself
Into a havior of less fear, ere wildness
Vanquish my staider senses. What’s the matter?
   PISANIO hands her a paper.
Why tender’st thou that paper to me with
A look untender? If ’t be summer news,
Smile to ’t before; if winterly, thou need’st
But keep that count’nance still. My husband’s hand!
That drug-damned Italy hath out-craftied him,
And he’s at some hard point. Speak, man! Thy tongue
May take off some extremity, which to read
Would be even mortal to me.
PISANIO
20
Please you read,
And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing
The most disdained of fortune.
PISANIO
Please you read,
And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing
The most disdained of fortune.
IMOGEN reads :
Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played the
strumpet in my bed, the testimonies whereof lies
25
bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak surmises but
from proof as strong as my grief and as certain as I
expect my revenge. That part thou, Pisanio, must act
for me, if thy faith be not tainted with the breach of
hers. Let thine own hands take away her life. I shall
30
give thee opportunity at Milford Haven—she hath
my letter for the purpose—where, if thou fear to
strike and to make me certain it is done, thou art the
pander to her dishonor and equally to me disloyal.
IMOGEN reads :
Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played the
strumpet in my bed, the testimonies whereof lies
bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak surmises but
from proof as strong as my grief and as certain as I
expect my revenge. That part thou, Pisanio, must act
for me, if thy faith be not tainted with the breach of
hers. Let thine own hands take away her life. I shall
give thee opportunity at Milford Haven—she hath
my letter for the purpose—where, if thou fear to
strike and to make me certain it is done, thou art the
pander to her dishonor and equally to me disloyal.
PISANIO, aside
What shall I need to draw my sword? The paper
35
Hath cut her throat already. No, ’tis slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
Rides on the posting winds and doth belie
All corners of the world. Kings, queens, and states,
40
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters.—What cheer, madam?
PISANIO, aside
What shall I need to draw my sword? The paper
Hath cut her throat already. No, ’tis slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
Rides on the posting winds and doth belie
All corners of the world. Kings, queens, and states,
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters.—What cheer, madam?
IMOGEN  
False to his bed? What is it to be false?
To lie in watch there and to think on him?
To weep ’twixt clock and clock? If sleep charge nature,
45
To break it with a fearful dream of him
And cry myself awake? That’s false to ’s bed, is it?
IMOGEN  
False to his bed? What is it to be false?
To lie in watch there and to think on him?
To weep ’twixt clock and clock? If sleep charge nature,
To break it with a fearful dream of him
And cry myself awake? That’s false to ’s bed, is it?
PISANIO
Alas, good lady!
PISANIO
Alas, good lady!
IMOGEN  
I false? Thy conscience witness! Iachimo,
Thou didst accuse him of incontinency.
50
Thou then looked’st like a villain. Now methinks
Thy favor’s good enough. Some jay of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting, hath betrayed him.
Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion,
And, for I am richer than to hang by th’ walls,
55
I must be ripped. To pieces with me! O,
Men’s vows are women’s traitors! All good seeming,
By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought
Put on for villainy, not born where ’t grows,
But worn a bait for ladies.
IMOGEN  
I false? Thy conscience witness! Iachimo,
Thou didst accuse him of incontinency.
Thou then looked’st like a villain. Now methinks
Thy favor’s good enough. Some jay of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting, hath betrayed him.
Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion,
And, for I am richer than to hang by th’ walls,
I must be ripped. To pieces with me! O,
Men’s vows are women’s traitors! All good seeming,
By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought
Put on for villainy, not born where ’t grows,
But worn a bait for ladies.
PISANIO
60
Good madam, hear me.
PISANIO
Good madam, hear me.
IMOGEN  
True honest men, being heard like false Aeneas,
Were in his time thought false, and Sinon’s weeping
Did scandal many a holy tear, took pity
From most true wretchedness. So thou, Posthumus,
65
Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men;
Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjured
From thy great fail.—Come, fellow, be thou honest;
Do thou thy master’s bidding. When thou seest him,
A little witness my obedience. Look,
70
I draw the sword myself.
   She draws PISANIO’s sword from its
   scabbard and hands it to him.
Take it, and hit
The innocent mansion of my love, my heart.
Fear not; ’tis empty of all things but grief.
Thy master is not there, who was indeed
75
The riches of it. Do his bidding; strike.
Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause,
But now thou seem’st a coward.
IMOGEN  
In the time of Aeneas, it was assumed all men were liars after he betrayed his

lover

In mythology, Aeneas was a Trojan who fled Troy after it fell. He met Dido in Carthage and they became lovers, but abandoned her when the god, Jupiter, commanded him to leave Dido because he was destined to help found Rome.

lover, and

Sinon’s

Sinon was a figure from the Trojan War who pretended to be a deserter of the Greek army, and convinced the Trojans to bring the Trojan horse into their city. Later, the Greek army emerged from the horse and took the city, winning the 10-year war.

Sinon’s false tears mocked many peoples’ real ones making people feel no pity for actual sadness. And so you, Posthumus, will also be a drag on all good men. Good and honorable men will be thought liars because of your great failing.—Come, good man, be loyal and do what your master ordered you to do. When you see him, tell him how obedient I was. Look, I will draw the sword myself.
   She draws PISANIO’s sword from its
   scabbard and hands it to him.
Take it and hit the innocent shelter of my love, my heart itself. Have no fear, my heart holds only grief. Your master was the only good part I carried in my heart, but he no longer resides there. Do as he orders; stab me. You might be brave for a better cause, but right now you seem like a coward.
PISANIO, throwing down the sword
Hence, vile
instrument!
80
Thou shalt not damn my hand.
PISANIO , throwing down the sword
Get away from me, you terrible thing. You will not curse my hand.
IMOGEN
Why, I must die,
And if I do not by thy hand, thou art
No servant of thy master’s. Against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine
85
That cravens my weak hand. Come, here’s my heart—
Something’s afore ’t. Soft, soft! We’ll no defense—
Obedient as the scabbard. What is here?
   She takes papers from her bodice.
The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus,
All turned to heresy? Away, away!
   She throws away the letters.
90
Corrupters of my faith, you shall no more
Be stomachers to my heart. Thus may poor fools
Believe false teachers. Though those that are betrayed
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
Stands in worse case of woe. And thou, Posthumus,
95
That didst set up
My disobedience ’gainst the King my father
And make me put into contempt the suits
Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find
It is no act of common passage, but
100
A strain of rareness: and I grieve myself
To think, when thou shalt be disedged by her
That now thou tirest on, how thy memory
Will then be panged by me.—Prithee, dispatch.
The lamb entreats the butcher. Where’s thy knife?
105
Thou art too slow to do thy master’s bidding
When I desire it too.
IMOGEN
Why, I must die,
And if I do not by thy hand, thou art
No servant of thy master’s. Against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine
That cravens my weak hand. Come, here’s my heart—
Something’s afore ’t. Soft, soft! We’ll no defense—
Obedient as the scabbard. What is here?
   She takes papers from her bodice.
The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus,
All turned to heresy? Away, away!
   She throws away the letters.
Corrupters of my faith, you shall no more
Be stomachers to my heart. Thus may poor fools
Believe false teachers. Though those that are betrayed
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
Stands in worse case of woe. And thou, Posthumus,
That didst set up
My disobedience ’gainst the King my father
And make me put into contempt the suits
Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find
It is no act of common passage, but
A strain of rareness: and I grieve myself
To think, when thou shalt be disedged by her
That now thou tirest on, how thy memory
Will then be panged by me.—Prithee, dispatch.
The lamb entreats the butcher. Where’s thy knife?
Thou art too slow to do thy master’s bidding
When I desire it too.
PISANIO
O gracious lady,
Since I received command to do this business
I have not slept one wink.
PISANIO
O gracious lady,
Since I received command to do this business
I have not slept one wink.
IMOGEN
110
Do ’t, and to bed, then.
IMOGEN
Do ’t, and to bed, then.
PISANIO  
I’ll wake mine eyeballs out first.
PISANIO  
I’ll wake mine eyeballs out first.
IMOGEN
Wherefore then
Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abused
So many miles with a pretense? This place?
115
Mine action and thine own? Our horses’ labor?
The time inviting thee? The perturbed court
For my being absent, whereunto I never
Purpose return? Why hast thou gone so far
To be unbent when thou hast ta’en thy stand,
120
Th’ elected deer before thee?
IMOGEN
Wherefore then
Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abused
So many miles with a pretense? This place?
Mine action and thine own? Our horses’ labor?
The time inviting thee? The perturbed court
For my being absent, whereunto I never
Purpose return? Why hast thou gone so far
To be unbent when thou hast ta’en thy stand,
Th’ elected deer before thee?
PISANIO
But to win time
To lose so bad employment, in the which
I have considered of a course. Good lady,
Hear me with patience.
PISANIO
But to win time
To lose so bad employment, in the which
I have considered of a course. Good lady,
Hear me with patience.
IMOGEN
125
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.
IMOGEN
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.
PISANIO
130
Then, madam,
I thought you would not back again.
PISANIO
Then, madam,
I thought you would not back again.
IMOGEN
Most like,
Bringing me here to kill me.
IMOGEN
Most like,
Bringing me here to kill me.
PISANIO
Not so, neither.
135
But if I were as wise as honest, then
My purpose would prove well. It cannot be
But that my master is abused. Some villain,
Ay, and singular in his art, hath done
You both this cursèd injury.
PISANIO
Not so, neither.
But if I were as wise as honest, then
My purpose would prove well. It cannot be
But that my master is abused. Some villain,
Ay, and singular in his art, hath done
You both this cursèd injury.
IMOGEN  
140
Some Roman courtesan?
IMOGEN  
Some Roman courtesan?
PISANIO
No, on my life.
I’ll give but notice you are dead, and send him
Some bloody sign of it, for ’tis commanded
I should do so. You shall be missed at court,
145
And that will well confirm it.
PISANIO
No, on my life.
I’ll give but notice you are dead, and send him
Some bloody sign of it, for ’tis commanded
I should do so. You shall be missed at court,
And that will well confirm it.
IMOGEN
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?
IMOGEN
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?
PISANIO
150
If you’ll back to th’ court—
PISANIO
If you’ll back to th’ court—
IMOGEN  
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.
IMOGEN  
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.
PISANIO
155
If not at court,
Then not in Britain must you bide.
PISANIO
If not at court,
Then not in Britain must you bide.
IMOGEN
Where, then?
Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night,
Are they not but in Britain? I’ th’ world’s volume
160
Our Britain seems as of it, but not in ’t,
In a great pool a swan’s nest. Prithee think
There’s livers out of Britain.
IMOGEN
Where, then?
Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night,
Are they not but in Britain? I’ th’ world’s volume
Our Britain seems as of it, but not in ’t,
In a great pool a swan’s nest. Prithee think
There’s livers out of Britain.
PISANIO
I am most glad
You think of other place. Th’ ambassador,
165
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford Haven
Tomorrow. Now, if you could wear a mind
Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
That which t’ appear itself must not yet be
But by self-danger, you should tread a course
170
Pretty and full of view: yea, haply near
The residence of Posthumus; so nigh, at least,
That though his actions were not visible, yet
Report should render him hourly to your ear
As truly as he moves.
PISANIO
I am most glad
You think of other place. Th’ ambassador,
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford Haven
Tomorrow. Now, if you could wear a mind
Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
That which t’ appear itself must not yet be
But by self-danger, you should tread a course
Pretty and full of view: yea, haply near
The residence of Posthumus; so nigh, at least,
That though his actions were not visible, yet
Report should render him hourly to your ear
As truly as he moves.
IMOGEN
175
O, for such means,
Though peril to my modesty, not death on ’t,
I would adventure.
IMOGEN
O, for such means,
Though peril to my modesty, not death on ’t,
I would adventure.
PISANIO
Well then, here’s the point:
You must forget to be a woman; change
180
Command into obedience, fear and niceness—
The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
Woman it pretty self—into a waggish courage,
Ready in gibes, quick-answered, saucy, and
As quarrelous as the weasel. Nay, you must
185
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,
Exposing it—but O, the harder heart!
Alack, no remedy—to the greedy touch
Of common-kissing Titan, and forget
Your laborsome and dainty trims, wherein
190
You made great Juno angry.
PISANIO
Well then, here’s the point:
You must forget to be a woman; change
Command into obedience, fear and niceness—
The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
Woman it pretty self—into a waggish courage,
Ready in gibes, quick-answered, saucy, and
As quarrelous as the weasel. Nay, you must
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,
Exposing it—but O, the harder heart!
Alack, no remedy—to the greedy touch
Of common-kissing Titan, and forget
Your laborsome and dainty trims, wherein
You made great Juno angry.
IMOGEN
Nay, be brief.
I see into thy end and am almost
A man already.
IMOGEN
Nay, be brief.
I see into thy end and am almost
A man already.
PISANIO
First, make yourself but like one.
195
Forethinking this, I have already fit—
’Tis in my cloakbag—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
200
Present yourself, desire his service, tell him
Wherein you’re happy—which will make him know,
If that his head have ear in music—doubtless
With joy he will embrace you, for he’s honorable
And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad:
205
You have me, rich, and I will never fail
Beginning nor supplyment.
PISANIO
First, make yourself but like one.
Forethinking this, I have already fit—
’Tis in my cloakbag—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, desire his service, tell him
Wherein you’re happy—which will make him know,
If that his head have ear in music—doubtless
With joy he will embrace you, for he’s honorable
And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad:
You have me, rich, and I will never fail
Beginning nor supplyment.
IMOGEN, taking the cloakbag
Thou art all the comfort
The gods will diet me with. Prithee, away.
There’s more to be considered, but we’ll even
210
All that good time will give us. This attempt
I am soldier to, and will abide it with
A prince’s courage. Away, I prithee.
IMOGEN, taking the cloakbag
Thou art all the comfort
The gods will diet me with. Prithee, away.
There’s more to be considered, but we’ll even
All that good time will give us. This attempt
I am soldier to, and will abide it with
A prince’s courage. Away, I prithee.
PISANIO  
Well, madam, we must take a short farewell,
Lest, being missed, I be suspected of
215
Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress,
Here is a box. I had it from the Queen.
   He hands her the box.
What’s in ’t is precious. If you are sick at sea
Or stomach-qualmed at land, a dram of this
Will drive away distemper. To some shade,
220
And fit you to your manhood. May the gods
Direct you to the best.
PISANIO
Well, madam, we must say good-bye for the moment, or else the court may realize that I’m gone and suspect me of helping you escape. My good mistress, here is a box. The queen gave it to me.
   He hands her the box.
What’s in it is very valuable. If you are seasick or having stomach trouble on land, a bit of this will cure you. Find somewhere private, and put on your new clothes to look like a man. May the gods help you in this endeavor.
IMOGEN
Amen. I thank thee.
IMOGEN
Amen. I thank thee.
They exit.
They exit.

Original Text

Modern Text
Enter PISANIO and IMOGEN.
Enter PISANIO and IMOGEN.
IMOGEN  
Thou told’st me, when we came from horse, the place
Was near at hand. Ne’er longed my mother so
To see me first as I have now. Pisanio, man,
Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind
5
That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that
   sigh
From th’ inward of thee? One but painted thus
Would be interpreted a thing perplexed
Beyond self-explication. Put thyself
10
Into a havior of less fear, ere wildness
Vanquish my staider senses. What’s the matter?
   PISANIO hands her a paper.
Why tender’st thou that paper to me with
A look untender? If ’t be summer news,
Smile to ’t before; if winterly, thou need’st
15
But keep that count’nance still. My husband’s hand!
That drug-damned Italy hath out-craftied him,
And he’s at some hard point. Speak, man! Thy tongue
May take off some extremity, which to read
Would be even mortal to me.
IMOGEN  
Thou told’st me, when we came from horse, the place
Was near at hand. Ne’er longed my mother so
To see me first as I have now. Pisanio, man,
Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind
That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that
   sigh
From th’ inward of thee? One but painted thus
Would be interpreted a thing perplexed
Beyond self-explication. Put thyself
Into a havior of less fear, ere wildness
Vanquish my staider senses. What’s the matter?
   PISANIO hands her a paper.
Why tender’st thou that paper to me with
A look untender? If ’t be summer news,
Smile to ’t before; if winterly, thou need’st
But keep that count’nance still. My husband’s hand!
That drug-damned Italy hath out-craftied him,
And he’s at some hard point. Speak, man! Thy tongue
May take off some extremity, which to read
Would be even mortal to me.
PISANIO
20
Please you read,
And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing
The most disdained of fortune.
PISANIO
Please you read,
And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing
The most disdained of fortune.
IMOGEN reads :
Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played the
strumpet in my bed, the testimonies whereof lies
25
bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak surmises but
from proof as strong as my grief and as certain as I
expect my revenge. That part thou, Pisanio, must act
for me, if thy faith be not tainted with the breach of
hers. Let thine own hands take away her life. I shall
30
give thee opportunity at Milford Haven—she hath
my letter for the purpose—where, if thou fear to
strike and to make me certain it is done, thou art the
pander to her dishonor and equally to me disloyal.
IMOGEN reads :
Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played the
strumpet in my bed, the testimonies whereof lies
bleeding in me. I speak not out of weak surmises but
from proof as strong as my grief and as certain as I
expect my revenge. That part thou, Pisanio, must act
for me, if thy faith be not tainted with the breach of
hers. Let thine own hands take away her life. I shall
give thee opportunity at Milford Haven—she hath
my letter for the purpose—where, if thou fear to
strike and to make me certain it is done, thou art the
pander to her dishonor and equally to me disloyal.
PISANIO, aside
What shall I need to draw my sword? The paper
35
Hath cut her throat already. No, ’tis slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
Rides on the posting winds and doth belie
All corners of the world. Kings, queens, and states,
40
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters.—What cheer, madam?
PISANIO, aside
What shall I need to draw my sword? The paper
Hath cut her throat already. No, ’tis slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
Rides on the posting winds and doth belie
All corners of the world. Kings, queens, and states,
Maids, matrons, nay, the secrets of the grave
This viperous slander enters.—What cheer, madam?
IMOGEN  
False to his bed? What is it to be false?
To lie in watch there and to think on him?
To weep ’twixt clock and clock? If sleep charge nature,
45
To break it with a fearful dream of him
And cry myself awake? That’s false to ’s bed, is it?
IMOGEN  
False to his bed? What is it to be false?
To lie in watch there and to think on him?
To weep ’twixt clock and clock? If sleep charge nature,
To break it with a fearful dream of him
And cry myself awake? That’s false to ’s bed, is it?
PISANIO
Alas, good lady!
PISANIO
Alas, good lady!
IMOGEN  
I false? Thy conscience witness! Iachimo,
Thou didst accuse him of incontinency.
50
Thou then looked’st like a villain. Now methinks
Thy favor’s good enough. Some jay of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting, hath betrayed him.
Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion,
And, for I am richer than to hang by th’ walls,
55
I must be ripped. To pieces with me! O,
Men’s vows are women’s traitors! All good seeming,
By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought
Put on for villainy, not born where ’t grows,
But worn a bait for ladies.
IMOGEN  
I false? Thy conscience witness! Iachimo,
Thou didst accuse him of incontinency.
Thou then looked’st like a villain. Now methinks
Thy favor’s good enough. Some jay of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting, hath betrayed him.
Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion,
And, for I am richer than to hang by th’ walls,
I must be ripped. To pieces with me! O,
Men’s vows are women’s traitors! All good seeming,
By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought
Put on for villainy, not born where ’t grows,
But worn a bait for ladies.
PISANIO
60
Good madam, hear me.
PISANIO
Good madam, hear me.
IMOGEN  
True honest men, being heard like false Aeneas,
Were in his time thought false, and Sinon’s weeping
Did scandal many a holy tear, took pity
From most true wretchedness. So thou, Posthumus,
65
Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men;
Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjured
From thy great fail.—Come, fellow, be thou honest;
Do thou thy master’s bidding. When thou seest him,
A little witness my obedience. Look,
70
I draw the sword myself.
   She draws PISANIO’s sword from its
   scabbard and hands it to him.
Take it, and hit
The innocent mansion of my love, my heart.
Fear not; ’tis empty of all things but grief.
Thy master is not there, who was indeed
75
The riches of it. Do his bidding; strike.
Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause,
But now thou seem’st a coward.
IMOGEN  
In the time of Aeneas, it was assumed all men were liars after he betrayed his

lover

In mythology, Aeneas was a Trojan who fled Troy after it fell. He met Dido in Carthage and they became lovers, but abandoned her when the god, Jupiter, commanded him to leave Dido because he was destined to help found Rome.

lover, and

Sinon’s

Sinon was a figure from the Trojan War who pretended to be a deserter of the Greek army, and convinced the Trojans to bring the Trojan horse into their city. Later, the Greek army emerged from the horse and took the city, winning the 10-year war.

Sinon’s false tears mocked many peoples’ real ones making people feel no pity for actual sadness. And so you, Posthumus, will also be a drag on all good men. Good and honorable men will be thought liars because of your great failing.—Come, good man, be loyal and do what your master ordered you to do. When you see him, tell him how obedient I was. Look, I will draw the sword myself.
   She draws PISANIO’s sword from its
   scabbard and hands it to him.
Take it and hit the innocent shelter of my love, my heart itself. Have no fear, my heart holds only grief. Your master was the only good part I carried in my heart, but he no longer resides there. Do as he orders; stab me. You might be brave for a better cause, but right now you seem like a coward.
PISANIO, throwing down the sword
Hence, vile
instrument!
80
Thou shalt not damn my hand.
PISANIO , throwing down the sword
Get away from me, you terrible thing. You will not curse my hand.
IMOGEN
Why, I must die,
And if I do not by thy hand, thou art
No servant of thy master’s. Against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine
85
That cravens my weak hand. Come, here’s my heart—
Something’s afore ’t. Soft, soft! We’ll no defense—
Obedient as the scabbard. What is here?
   She takes papers from her bodice.
The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus,
All turned to heresy? Away, away!
   She throws away the letters.
90
Corrupters of my faith, you shall no more
Be stomachers to my heart. Thus may poor fools
Believe false teachers. Though those that are betrayed
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
Stands in worse case of woe. And thou, Posthumus,
95
That didst set up
My disobedience ’gainst the King my father
And make me put into contempt the suits
Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find
It is no act of common passage, but
100
A strain of rareness: and I grieve myself
To think, when thou shalt be disedged by her
That now thou tirest on, how thy memory
Will then be panged by me.—Prithee, dispatch.
The lamb entreats the butcher. Where’s thy knife?
105
Thou art too slow to do thy master’s bidding
When I desire it too.
IMOGEN
Why, I must die,
And if I do not by thy hand, thou art
No servant of thy master’s. Against self-slaughter
There is a prohibition so divine
That cravens my weak hand. Come, here’s my heart—
Something’s afore ’t. Soft, soft! We’ll no defense—
Obedient as the scabbard. What is here?
   She takes papers from her bodice.
The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus,
All turned to heresy? Away, away!
   She throws away the letters.
Corrupters of my faith, you shall no more
Be stomachers to my heart. Thus may poor fools
Believe false teachers. Though those that are betrayed
Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
Stands in worse case of woe. And thou, Posthumus,
That didst set up
My disobedience ’gainst the King my father
And make me put into contempt the suits
Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find
It is no act of common passage, but
A strain of rareness: and I grieve myself
To think, when thou shalt be disedged by her
That now thou tirest on, how thy memory
Will then be panged by me.—Prithee, dispatch.
The lamb entreats the butcher. Where’s thy knife?
Thou art too slow to do thy master’s bidding
When I desire it too.
PISANIO
O gracious lady,
Since I received command to do this business
I have not slept one wink.
PISANIO
O gracious lady,
Since I received command to do this business
I have not slept one wink.
IMOGEN
110
Do ’t, and to bed, then.
IMOGEN
Do ’t, and to bed, then.
PISANIO  
I’ll wake mine eyeballs out first.
PISANIO  
I’ll wake mine eyeballs out first.
IMOGEN
Wherefore then
Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abused
So many miles with a pretense? This place?
115
Mine action and thine own? Our horses’ labor?
The time inviting thee? The perturbed court
For my being absent, whereunto I never
Purpose return? Why hast thou gone so far
To be unbent when thou hast ta’en thy stand,
120
Th’ elected deer before thee?
IMOGEN
Wherefore then
Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abused
So many miles with a pretense? This place?
Mine action and thine own? Our horses’ labor?
The time inviting thee? The perturbed court
For my being absent, whereunto I never
Purpose return? Why hast thou gone so far
To be unbent when thou hast ta’en thy stand,
Th’ elected deer before thee?
PISANIO
But to win time
To lose so bad employment, in the which
I have considered of a course. Good lady,
Hear me with patience.
PISANIO
But to win time
To lose so bad employment, in the which
I have considered of a course. Good lady,
Hear me with patience.
IMOGEN
125
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.
IMOGEN
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.
PISANIO
130
Then, madam,
I thought you would not back again.
PISANIO
Then, madam,
I thought you would not back again.
IMOGEN
Most like,
Bringing me here to kill me.
IMOGEN
Most like,
Bringing me here to kill me.
PISANIO
Not so, neither.
135
But if I were as wise as honest, then
My purpose would prove well. It cannot be
But that my master is abused. Some villain,
Ay, and singular in his art, hath done
You both this cursèd injury.
PISANIO
Not so, neither.
But if I were as wise as honest, then
My purpose would prove well. It cannot be
But that my master is abused. Some villain,
Ay, and singular in his art, hath done
You both this cursèd injury.
IMOGEN  
140
Some Roman courtesan?
IMOGEN  
Some Roman courtesan?
PISANIO
No, on my life.
I’ll give but notice you are dead, and send him
Some bloody sign of it, for ’tis commanded
I should do so. You shall be missed at court,
145
And that will well confirm it.
PISANIO
No, on my life.
I’ll give but notice you are dead, and send him
Some bloody sign of it, for ’tis commanded
I should do so. You shall be missed at court,
And that will well confirm it.
IMOGEN
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?
IMOGEN
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?
PISANIO
150
If you’ll back to th’ court—
PISANIO
If you’ll back to th’ court—
IMOGEN  
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.
IMOGEN  
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.
PISANIO
155
If not at court,
Then not in Britain must you bide.
PISANIO
If not at court,
Then not in Britain must you bide.
IMOGEN
Where, then?
Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night,
Are they not but in Britain? I’ th’ world’s volume
160
Our Britain seems as of it, but not in ’t,
In a great pool a swan’s nest. Prithee think
There’s livers out of Britain.
IMOGEN
Where, then?
Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night,
Are they not but in Britain? I’ th’ world’s volume
Our Britain seems as of it, but not in ’t,
In a great pool a swan’s nest. Prithee think
There’s livers out of Britain.
PISANIO
I am most glad
You think of other place. Th’ ambassador,
165
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford Haven
Tomorrow. Now, if you could wear a mind
Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
That which t’ appear itself must not yet be
But by self-danger, you should tread a course
170
Pretty and full of view: yea, haply near
The residence of Posthumus; so nigh, at least,
That though his actions were not visible, yet
Report should render him hourly to your ear
As truly as he moves.
PISANIO
I am most glad
You think of other place. Th’ ambassador,
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford Haven
Tomorrow. Now, if you could wear a mind
Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise
That which t’ appear itself must not yet be
But by self-danger, you should tread a course
Pretty and full of view: yea, haply near
The residence of Posthumus; so nigh, at least,
That though his actions were not visible, yet
Report should render him hourly to your ear
As truly as he moves.
IMOGEN
175
O, for such means,
Though peril to my modesty, not death on ’t,
I would adventure.
IMOGEN
O, for such means,
Though peril to my modesty, not death on ’t,
I would adventure.
PISANIO
Well then, here’s the point:
You must forget to be a woman; change
180
Command into obedience, fear and niceness—
The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
Woman it pretty self—into a waggish courage,
Ready in gibes, quick-answered, saucy, and
As quarrelous as the weasel. Nay, you must
185
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,
Exposing it—but O, the harder heart!
Alack, no remedy—to the greedy touch
Of common-kissing Titan, and forget
Your laborsome and dainty trims, wherein
190
You made great Juno angry.
PISANIO
Well then, here’s the point:
You must forget to be a woman; change
Command into obedience, fear and niceness—
The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
Woman it pretty self—into a waggish courage,
Ready in gibes, quick-answered, saucy, and
As quarrelous as the weasel. Nay, you must
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,
Exposing it—but O, the harder heart!
Alack, no remedy—to the greedy touch
Of common-kissing Titan, and forget
Your laborsome and dainty trims, wherein
You made great Juno angry.
IMOGEN
Nay, be brief.
I see into thy end and am almost
A man already.
IMOGEN
Nay, be brief.
I see into thy end and am almost
A man already.
PISANIO
First, make yourself but like one.
195
Forethinking this, I have already fit—
’Tis in my cloakbag—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
200
Present yourself, desire his service, tell him
Wherein you’re happy—which will make him know,
If that his head have ear in music—doubtless
With joy he will embrace you, for he’s honorable
And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad:
205
You have me, rich, and I will never fail
Beginning nor supplyment.
PISANIO
First, make yourself but like one.
Forethinking this, I have already fit—
’Tis in my cloakbag—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, desire his service, tell him
Wherein you’re happy—which will make him know,
If that his head have ear in music—doubtless
With joy he will embrace you, for he’s honorable
And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad:
You have me, rich, and I will never fail
Beginning nor supplyment.
IMOGEN, taking the cloakbag
Thou art all the comfort
The gods will diet me with. Prithee, away.
There’s more to be considered, but we’ll even
210
All that good time will give us. This attempt
I am soldier to, and will abide it with
A prince’s courage. Away, I prithee.
IMOGEN, taking the cloakbag
Thou art all the comfort
The gods will diet me with. Prithee, away.
There’s more to be considered, but we’ll even
All that good time will give us. This attempt
I am soldier to, and will abide it with
A prince’s courage. Away, I prithee.
PISANIO  
Well, madam, we must take a short farewell,
Lest, being missed, I be suspected of
215
Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress,
Here is a box. I had it from the Queen.
   He hands her the box.
What’s in ’t is precious. If you are sick at sea
Or stomach-qualmed at land, a dram of this
Will drive away distemper. To some shade,
220
And fit you to your manhood. May the gods
Direct you to the best.
PISANIO
Well, madam, we must say good-bye for the moment, or else the court may realize that I’m gone and suspect me of helping you escape. My good mistress, here is a box. The queen gave it to me.
   He hands her the box.
What’s in it is very valuable. If you are seasick or having stomach trouble on land, a bit of this will cure you. Find somewhere private, and put on your new clothes to look like a man. May the gods help you in this endeavor.
IMOGEN
Amen. I thank thee.
IMOGEN
Amen. I thank thee.
They exit.
They exit.
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