Britain. A Room in CYMBELINE'S Palace. |
| |
Enter QUEEN, Ladies, and CORNELIUS. |
| Queen. Whiles yet the dew's on ground, gather those flowers: |
| Make haste; who has the note of them? |
| First Lady. I, madam. |
| Queen. Dispatch. [Exeunt Ladies. |
| Now, Master doctor, have you brought those drugs? |
| Cor. Pleaseth your highness, ay; here they are, madam: [Presenting a small box. |
| But I beseech your Grace, without offence,— |
| My conscience bids me ask,—wherefore you have |
| Commanded of me these most poisonous compounds, |
| Which are the movers of a languishing death, |
| But though slow, deadly? |
| Queen. I wonder, doctor, |
| Thou ask'st me such a question: have I not been |
| Thy pupil long? Hast thou not learn'd me how |
| To make perfumes? distil? preserve? yea, so |
| That our great king himself doth woo me oft |
| For my confections? Having thus far proceeded,— |
| Unless thou think'st me devilish,—is't not meet |
| That I did amplify my judgment in |
| Other conclusions? I will try the forces |
| Of these thy compounds on such creatures as |
| We count not worth the hanging,—but none human,— |
| To try the vigour of them and apply |
| Allayments to their act, and by them gather |
| Their several virtues and effects. |
| Cor. Your highness |
| Shall from this practice but make hard your heart; |
| Besides, the seeing these effects will be |
| Both noisome and infectious. |
| Queen. O! content thee. |
| |
Enter PISANIO. |
| [Aside.] Here comes a flattering rascal; upon him |
| Will I first work: he's for his master, |
| And enemy to my son. How now, Pisanio! |
| Doctor, your service for this time is ended; |
| Take your own way. |
| Cor. [Aside.] I do suspect you, madam; |
| But you shall do no harm. |
| Queen. [To PISANIO.] Hark thee, a word. |
| Cor. [Aside.] I do not like her. She doth think she has |
| Strange lingering poisons; I do know her spirit, |
| And will not trust one of her malice with |
| A drug of such damn'd nature. Those she has |
| Will stupify and dull the sense awhile; |
| Which first, perchance, she'll prove on cats and dogs, |
| Then afterward up higher; but there is |
| No danger in what show of death it makes, |
| More than the locking-up the spirits a time, |
| To be more fresh, reviving. She is fool'd |
| With a most false effect; and I the truer, |
| So to be false with her. |
| Queen. No further service, doctor, |
| Until I send for thee. |
| Cor. I humbly take my leave. [Exit. |
| Queen. Weeps she still, sayst thou? Dost thou think in time |
| She will not quench, and let instructions enter |
| Where folly now possesses? Do thou work: |
| When thou shalt bring me word she loves my son, |
| I'll tell thee on the instant thou art then |
| As great as is thy master; greater, for |
| His fortunes all lie speechless, and his name |
| Is at last gasp; return he cannot, nor |
| Continue where he is; to shift his being |
| Is to exchange one misery with another, |
| And every day that comes comes to decay |
| A day's work in him. What shalt thou expect, |
| To be depender on a thing that leans, |
| Who cannot be new built, nor has no friends, |
| So much as but to prop him? [The QUEEN drops the box; PISANIO takes it up. |
| Thou tak'st up |
| Thou know'st not what; but take it for thy labour: |
| It is a thing I made, which hath the king |
| Five times redeem'd from death; I do not know |
| What is more cordial: nay, I prithee, take it; |
| It is an earnest of a further good |
| That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how |
| The case stands with her; do 't as from thyself. |
| Think what a chance thou changest on, but think |
| Thou hast thy mistress still, to boot, my son, |
| Who shall take notice of thee. I'll move the king |
| To any shape of thy preferment such |
| As thou'lt desire; and then myself, I chiefly, |
| That set thee on to this desert, am bound |
| To load thy merit richly. Call my women; |
| Think on my words. [Exit PISANIO. |
| A sly and constant knave, |
| Not to be shak'd; the agent for his master, |
| And the remembrancer of her to hold |
| The hand-fast to her lord. I have given him that |
| Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her |
| Of leigers for her sweet, and which she after, |
| Except she bend her humour, shall be assur'd |
| To taste of too. |
| |
Re-Enter PISANIO and Ladies. |
| So, so;—well done, well done. |
| The violets, cowslips, and the prime-roses |
| Bear to my closet. Fare thee well, Pisanio: |
| Think on my words. [Exeunt QUEEN and Ladies. |
| Pis. And shall do: |
| But when to my good lord I prove untrue, |
| I'll choke myself; there's all I'll do for you. [Exit. |
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