Cymbeline · Act 4, Scene 3

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Enter CYMBELINE, Lords, PISANIO, and Attendants
Enter CYMBELINE, Lords, PISANIO, and Attendants
Cymbeline

Again; and bring me word how ’tis with her.

Cymbeline

Again; and bring me word how she is doing.

Exit an Attendant
Exit an Attendant
Cymbeline

A fever with the absence of her son, A madness, of which her life’s in danger. Heavens, How deeply you at once do touch me! Imogen, The great part of my comfort, gone; my queen Upon a desperate bed, and in a time When fearful wars point at me; her son gone, So needful for this present: it strikes me, past The hope of comfort. But for thee, fellow, Who needs must know of her departure and Dost seem so ignorant, we’ll enforce it from thee By a sharp torture.

Cymbeline

A fever caused by her son being gone, A madness that puts her life at risk. Heavens, How deeply you affect me all at once! Imogen, The biggest part of my comfort, gone; my queen On a desperate sickbed, and at a time When dangerous wars threaten me; her son gone, So needed right now: it hits me, beyond The hope of comfort. But for you, fellow, Who must know about her leaving and Seem so unaware, we’ll force it out of you With sharp torture.

Pisanio

Sir, my life is yours; I humbly set it at your will; but, for my mistress, I nothing know where she remains, why gone, Nor when she purposes return. Beseech your highness, Hold me your loyal servant.

Pisanio

Sir, my life is yours; I humbly place it at your command; but, as for my mistress, I don’t know where she is, why she left, Or when she plans to return. I beg your highness, Let me be your loyal servant.

First Lord

Good my liege, The day that she was missing he was here: I dare be bound he’s true and shall perform All parts of his subjection loyally. For Cloten, There wants no diligence in seeking him, And will, no doubt, be found.

First Lord

Good my liege, The day she went missing, he was here: I swear he’s loyal and will perform All his duties faithfully. As for Cloten, There’s no lack of effort in searching for him, And he will, no doubt, be found.

Cymbeline

The time is troublesome.

Cymbeline

The situation is troublesome.

To PISANIO
To PISANIO
Cymbeline

We’ll slip you for a season; but our jealousy Does yet depend.

Cymbeline

We’ll let you go for a while; but our suspicion Still remains.

First Lord

So please your majesty, The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn, Are landed on your coast, with a supply Of Roman gentlemen, by the senate sent.

First Lord

If it pleases your majesty, The Roman legions, all from Gaul, Have landed on your coast, with a reinforcement Of Roman nobles, sent by the Senate.

Cymbeline

Now for the counsel of my son and queen! I am amazed with matter.

Cymbeline

Now for the news of my son and queen! I’m overwhelmed with everything.

First Lord

Good my liege, Your preparation can affront no less Than what you hear of: come more, for more you’re ready: The want is but to put those powers in motion That long to move.

First Lord

Good my liege, Your preparation can face no less Than what you’ve just heard: come, there’s more, and you’re ready: The only thing missing is to put those forces into action That have been wanting to move.

Cymbeline

I thank you. Let’s withdraw; And meet the time as it seeks us. We fear not What can from Italy annoy us; but We grieve at chances here. Away!

Cymbeline

Thank you. Let’s withdraw; And face whatever comes as it finds us. We don’t fear What Italy can throw at us; but We’re troubled by what may happen here. Away!

Exeunt all but PISANIO
Exeunt all but PISANIO
Pisanio

I heard no letter from my master since I wrote him Imogen was slain: ’tis strange: Nor hear I from my mistress who did promise To yield me often tidings: neither know I What is betid to Cloten; but remain Perplex’d in all. The heavens still must work. Wherein I am false I am honest; not true, to be true. These present wars shall find I love my country, Even to the note o’ the king, or I’ll fall in them. All other doubts, by time let them be clear’d: Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer’d.

Pisanio

I haven’t heard from my master since I wrote that Imogen was dead: it’s strange: Nor have I heard from my mistress, who promised To send me news: I don’t know What happened to Cloten; I’m left Confused. The heavens must still be working. Where I am false, I am honest; not true, to be true. These current wars will prove I love my country, Even to the king’s level, or I’ll fall in them. Let time clear up all other doubts: Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.

Exit
Exit

End of Act 4, Scene 3

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