CYMBELINE. Уильям Шекспир
IV.
Enter Imogen, and Pisanio.
Imo. I would thou grew’st vnto the shores o’th’ Hauen,
And questioned’st euery Saile: if he should write,
And I not haue it, ‘twere a Paper lost
As offer’d mercy is: What was the last
That he spake to thee?
Pisa. It was his Queene, his Queene
Imo. Then wau’d his Handkerchiefe?
Pisa. And kist it, Madam
Imo. Senselesse Linnen, happier therein then I:
And that was all?
Pisa. No Madam: for so long
As he could make me with his eye, or eare,
Distinguish him from others, he did keepe
The Decke, with Gloue, or Hat, or Handkerchife,
Still wauing, as the fits and stirres of’s mind
Could best expresse how slow his Soule sayl’d on,
How swift his Ship
Imo. Thou should’st haue made him
As little as a Crow, or lesse, ere left
To after-eye him
Pisa. Madam, so I did
Imo. I would haue broke mine eye-strings;
Crack’d them, but to looke vpon him, till the diminution
Of space, had pointed him sharpe as my Needle:
Nay, followed him, till he had melted from
The smalnesse of a Gnat, to ayre: and then
Haue turn’d mine eye, and wept. But good Pisanio,
When shall we heare from him
Pisa. Be assur’d Madam,
With his next vantage
Imo. I did not take my leaue of him, but had
Most pretty things to say: Ere I could tell him
How I would thinke on him at certaine houres,
Such thoughts, and such: Or I could make him sweare,
The Shees of Italy should not betray
Mine Interest, and his Honour: or haue charg’d him
At the sixt houre of Morne, at Noone, at Midnight,
T’ encounter me with Orisons, for then
I am in Heauen for him: Or ere I could,
Giue him that parting kisse, which I had set
Betwixt two charming words, comes in my Father,
And like the Tyrannous breathing of the North,
Shakes all our buddes from growing.
Enter a Lady.
La. The Queene (Madam)
Desires your Highnesse Company
Imo. Those things I bid you do, get them dispatch’d,
I will attend the Queene
Pisa. Madam, I shall.
Exeunt.
SCENE V.
Enter Philario, Iachimo: a Frenchman, a Dutchman, and a
Spaniard.
Iach. Beleeue it Sir, I haue seene him in Britaine; hee was then of a Cressent note, expected to proue so woorthy, as since he hath beene allowed the name of. But I could then haue look’d on him, without the help of Admiration, though the Catalogue of his endowments had bin tabled by his side, and I to peruse him by Items
Phil. You speake of him when he was lesse furnish’d, then now hee is, with that which makes him both without, and within
French. I haue seene him in France: wee had very many there, could behold the Sunne, with as firme eyes as hee
Iach. This matter of marrying his Kings Daughter, wherein he must be weighed rather by her valew, then his owne, words him (I doubt not) a great deale from the matter
French. And then his banishment
Iach. I, and the approbation of those that weepe this lamentable diuorce vnder her colours, are wonderfully to extend him, be it but to fortifie her iudgement, which else an easie battery might lay flat, for taking a Begger without lesse quality. But how comes it, he is to soiourne with you? How creepes acquaintance? Phil. His Father and I were Souldiers together, to whom I haue bin often bound for no lesse then my life. Enter Posthumus.
Heere comes the Britaine. Let him be so entertained among’st you, as suites with Gentlemen of your knowing, to a Stranger of his quality. I beseech you all be better knowne to this Gentleman, whom I commend to you, as a Noble Friend of mine. How Worthy he is, I will leaue to appeare hereafter, rather then story him in his owne hearing
French. Sir, we haue knowne togither in Orleance
Post. Since when, I haue bin debtor to you for courtesies, which I will be euer to pay, and yet pay still
French. Sir, you o’re-rate my poore kindnesse, I was glad I did attone my Countryman and you: it had beene pitty you should haue beene put together, with so mortall a purpose, as then each bore, vpon importance of so slight and triuiall a nature
Post. By your pardon Sir, I was then a young Traueller, rather shun’d to go euen with what I heard, then in my euery action to be guided by others experiences: but vpon my mended iudgement (if I offend to say it is mended) my Quarrell was not altogether slight
French. Faith yes, to be put to the arbiterment of Swords, and by such two, that would by all likelyhood haue confounded one the other, or haue falne both
Iach. Can we with manners, aske what was the difference? French. Safely, I thinke, ‘twas a contention in publicke, which may (without contradiction) suffer the report. It was much like an argument that fell out last night, where each of vs fell in praise of our Country-Mistresses. This Gentleman, at that time vouching (and vpon warrant of bloody affirmation) his to be more Faire, Vertuous, Wise, Chaste, Constant, Qualified, and lesse attemptible then any, the rarest of our Ladies in Fraunce
Iach. That Lady is not now liuing; or this Gentlemans opinion by this, worne out
Post. She holds her Vertue still, and I my mind
Iach. You must not so farre preferre her, ‘fore ours of
Italy
Posth. Being so farre prouok’d as I was in France: I would abate her nothing, though I professe my selfe her Adorer, not her Friend
Iach. As faire, and as good: a kind of hand in hand comparison, had beene something too faire, and too good for any Lady in Britanie; if she went before others. I haue seene as that Diamond of yours out-lusters many I haue beheld, I could not beleeue she excelled many: but I haue not seene the most pretious Diamond that is, nor you the Lady
Post. I prais’d her, as I rated her: so do I my Stone
Iach. What do you esteeme it at?
Post. More then the world enioyes
Iach. Either your vnparagon’d Mistris is dead, or
she’s out-priz’d by a trifle
Post. You are mistaken: the one may be solde or giuen, or if there were wealth enough for the purchases, or merite for the guift. The other is not a thing for sale, and onely the guift of the Gods
Iach. Which the Gods haue giuen you?
Post. Which by their Graces I will keepe
Iach. You may weare her in title yours: but you know strange Fowle light vpon neighbouring Ponds. Your Ring may