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Scene 2. Another room in the palace.
Enter PISANIO, with a letter
How? of adultery? Wherefore write you not
What monsters her accuser? Leonatus,
O master! what a strange infection
Is falln into thy ear! What false Italian,
As poisonous-tongued as handed, hath prevaild
On thy too ready hearing? Disloyal! No:
Shes punishd for her truth, and undergoes,
More goddess-like than wife-like, such assaults
As would take in some virtue. O my master!
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
Let me be counted serviceable. How look I,
That I should seem to lack humanity
So much as this fact comes to?
Dot: the letter
That I have sent her, by her own command
Shall give thee opportunity. O damnd paper!
Black as the ink thats on thee! Senseless bauble,
Art thou a feodary for this act, and lookst
So virgin-like without? Lo, here she comes.
I am ignorant in what I am commanded.
How now, Pisanio!
Madam, here is a letter from my lord.
Who? thy lord? that is my lord, Leonatus!
O, learnd indeed were that astronomer
That knew the stars as I his characters;
Held lay the future open. You good gods,
Let what is here containd relish of love,
Of my lords health, of his content, yet not
That we two are asunder; let that grieve him:
Some griefs are medcinable; that is one of them,
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
You clasp young Cupids tables. Good news, gods!
Justice, and your fathers 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, 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, LEONATUS POSTHUMUS.
O, for a horse with wings! Hearst 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,
Who longst, like me, to see thy lord; who longst,
Let me bate,but not like meyet longst,
But in a fainter kind:O, not like me;
For mines beyond beyondsay, and speak thick;
Loves counsellor should fill the bores of hearing,
To the smothering of the sensehow 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
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 eer begot?
Well talk of that hereafter. Prithee, speak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
twixt hour and hour?
One score twixt sun and sun,
Madam, s enough for you:
And too much too.
Why, one that rode tos execution, man,
Could never go so slow: I have heard of riding wagers,
Where horses have been nimbler than the sands
That run i the clocks behalf. But this is foolery:
Go bid my woman feign a sickness; say
Shell home to her father: and provide me presently
A riding-suit, no costlier than would fit
A franklins housewife.
Madam, youd best consider.
I see before me, man: nor here, nor here,
Nor what ensues, but have a fog in them,
That I cannot look through. Away, I prithee;
Do as I bid thee: theres no more to say,
Accessible is none but Milford way.