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ACT III SCENE II Another room in the palace. 
 Enter PISANIO, with a letter. 
PISANIO How? of adultery? Wherefore write you not 
 What monster's her accuser? Leonatus, 
 O master! what a strange infection 
 Is fall'n into thy ear! What false Italian, 5
 As poisonous-tongued as handed, hath prevail'd 
 On thy too ready hearing? Disloyal! No: 
 She's punish'd for her truth, and undergoes, 
 More goddess-like than wife-like, such assaults 
 As would take in some virtue. O my master! 10
 Thy mind to her is now as low as were 
 Thy fortunes. How! that I should murder her? 
 Upon the love and truth and vows which I 
 Have made to thy command? I, her? her blood? 
 If it be so to do good service, never 15
 Let me be counted serviceable. How look I, 
 That I should seem to lack humanity 
 so much as this fact comes to? 
 'Do't: the letter 
 that I have sent her, by her own command 20
 Shall give thee opportunity.' O damn'd paper! 
 Black as the ink that's on thee! Senseless bauble, 
 Art thou a feodary for this act, and look'st 
 So virgin-like without? Lo, here she comes. 
 I am ignorant in what I am commanded. 25
 Enter IMOGEN. 
IMOGEN How now, Pisanio! 
PISANIO Madam, here is a letter from my lord. 
IMOGEN Who? thy lord? that is my lord, Leonatus! 
 O, learn'd indeed were that astronomer 
 That knew the stars as I his characters; 30
 He'ld lay the future open. You good gods, 
 Let what is here contain'd relish of love, 
 Of my lord's health, of his content, yet not 
 That we two are asunder; let that grieve him: 
 Some griefs are med'cinable; that is one of them, 35
 For it doth physic love: of his content, 
 All but in that! Good wax, thy leave. Blest be 
 You bees that make these locks of counsel! Lovers 
 And men in dangerous bonds pray not alike: 
 Though forfeiters you cast in prison, yet 40
 You clasp young Cupid's tables. Good news, gods! 
 'Justice, and your father's wrath, should he take me 
 in his dominion, could not be so cruel to me, as 
 you, O the dearest of creatures, would even renew me 
 with your eyes. Take notice that I am in Cambria, 45
 at Milford-Haven: what your own love will out of 
 this advise you, follow. So he wishes you all 
 happiness, that remains loyal to his vow, and your, 
 increasing in love, 
 O, for a horse with wings! Hear'st thou, Pisanio? 
 He is at Milford-Haven: read, and tell me 
 How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs 
 May plod it in a week, why may not I 
 Glide thither in a day? Then, true Pisanio,-- 55
 Who long'st, like me, to see thy lord; who long'st,-- 
 let me bate,-but not like me--yet long'st, 
 But in a fainter kind:--O, not like me; 
 For mine's beyond beyond--say, and speak thick; 
 Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing, 60
 To the smothering of the sense--how far it is 
 To this same blessed Milford: and by the way 
 Tell me how Wales was made so happy as 
 To inherit such a haven: but first of all, 
 How we may steal from hence, and for the gap 65
 That we shall make in time, from our hence-going 
 And our return, to excuse: but first, how get hence: 
 Why should excuse be born or e'er begot? 
 We'll talk of that hereafter. Prithee, speak, 
 How many score of miles may we well ride 70
 'Twixt hour and hour? 
PISANIO One score 'twixt sun and sun, 
 Madam, 's enough for you: 
 and too much too. 
IMOGEN Why, one that rode to's execution, man, 75
 Could never go so slow: I have heard of 
 riding wagers, 
 Where horses have been nimbler than the sands 
 That run i' the clock's behalf. But this is foolery: 
 Go bid my woman feign a sickness; say 80
 She'll home to her father: and provide me presently 
 A riding-suit, no costlier than would fit 
 A franklin's housewife. 
PISANIO Madam, you're best consider. 
IMOGEN I see before me, man: nor here, nor here, 85
 Nor what ensues, but have a fog in them, 
 That I cannot look through. Away, I prithee; 
 Do as I bid thee: there's no more to say, 
 Accessible is none but Milford way. 

Cymbeline, Act 3, Scene 3


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