The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (837 page)

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