The most disdained of fortune.

INNOGEN (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 dishonour and equally to me disloyal.’

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. (To Innogen) What cheer,

madam?

INNOGEN

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.

INNOGEN

I false? Thy conscience witness, Giacomo,

Thou didst accuse him of incontinency.

Thou then lookedst like a villain; now, methinks,

Thy favour’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

Good madam, hear me.

INNOGEN

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,

Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men.

Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjured

From thy great fail. (To Pisanio) Come, fellow, be thou

honest,

Do thou thy master’s bidding. When thou seest

him,

A little witness my obedience. Look,

I draw the sword myself. 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

The riches of it. Do his bidding; strike.

Thou mayst be valiant in a better cause,

But now thou seem’st a coward.

PISANIO

Hence, vile instrument,

Thou shalt not damn my hand!

INNOGEN

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 defence;

Obedient as the scabbard. What is here?

She takes letters from her bosom

The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus,

All turned to heresy? Away, away,

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. (To Pisanio) 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.

INNOGEN

Do’t, and to bed, then.

PISANIO

I’ll wake mine eyeballs out first.

INNOGEN

Wherefore then

Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abused

So many miles with a pretence?—this place,

Mine action, and thine own? Our horses’ labour,

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.

INNOGEN

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

Then, madam,

I thought you would not back again.

INNOGEN Most like,

Bringing me here to kill me.

PISANIO

Not so, neither.

But if I were as wise as honest, then