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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 opportunities 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.

Pis. 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.—What cheer, madam ?

Imo. 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 his bed ?
Is it ?

Pis. Alas, good lady!

my

Imo.... Come, fellow, be thou honest; Do thou thy master's bidding: when thou seest him, A little witness 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. ... Pr’ythee, 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.

Pis. O gracious lady,
Since I received command to do this business,
I have not slept one wink.

Imo. Do't, and to bed then.
Pis. I'll wake mine eye-balls blind first.

Imo. Wherefore then
Didst undertake it ? Why hast thou abused
So inany 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,
The elected deer before thee?

Pis. But to win time
To lose so bad employment: in the which
I have considered of a course : good lady,
Hear me with patience.

Imo. 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.
Pis. Then, madam,
I thought you would not back again.

Imo. Most like;
Bringing me here to kill me.

Pis. Not so, neither;
But if I were as wise as honest, then
My purpose

would
prove

well. It cannot be But that my master is abused :

Some villain, ay, and singular in his art,
Hath done you both this cursèd injury.

Imo. Some Roman courtezan.

Pis. No, on my life.
I'll give but notice you are dead, and send him
Some bloody sign of it; for 'tis commanded
I should do so : you shall be missed at court,
And that will well confirm it.

Imo. Why, good fellow,
What shall I do the while? Where bide ? How live?

Pis.... The ambassador,
Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford-Haven
To-morrow. Now, if you could wear a mind
Dark as your fortune is; and but disguise
That, which, to appear itself, must not yet be,
But by self-danger; you should tread a course
Pretty, and full of view: yea, haply, near
The residence of Posthumus : so nigh, at least,
That though his actions were not visible, yet
Report should render him hourly to your ear,
As truly as he moves.

Imo. O, for such means !
Though peril to my modesty, not death on't,
I would adventure.

Pis. Well, then, here's the point :
You must forget to be a woman; change
Command into obedience: fear, and niceness
(The handmaids of all women, or, more truly,
Woman its pretty self), to a waggish courage ;
Ready in gibes, quick-answered, saucy, and
As quarrelous as the weasel : nay, you must
Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek,

Exposing it (but, O, the harder heart!
Alack, no remedy !) to the greedy touch
Of common-kissing Titan; and forget
Your laboursome and dainty urims, wherein
You made great Juno angry.

Imo. Nay, be brief :
I see into thy end, and am almost
A man already.

Pis. First, make yourself but like one.
Fore-thinking this, I have already fit
('Tis in my cloak-bag), doublet, hat, hose, all
That answer to them: would you, in their serving,
And with what imitation you can borrow
From youth of such a season, 'fore noble Lucius
Present yourself, desire his service, tell him
Wherein you are happy (which you'll make him know,
If that his head have ear in music), doubtless,
With joy he will embrace you; for he's honourable,
And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad
You have me, rich; and I will never fail
Beginning, nor supplyment.

Imo. Thou art all the comfort
The gods will diet me with. Pr’ythee, away:
There's more to be considered; but we'll even
All that good time will give us : this attempt
I'm soldier to, and will abide it with
A prince's courage. Away, I pr'ythee.

Pis. Well, madam, we must take a short farewell;
Lest, being missed, I be suspected of
Your carriage from the court. ...

To some shade, And fit you to your manhood :-May the gods Direct you to the best !

THE TEMPEST.

The Dissolution of all Things.
Our revels now are ended : these our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air :
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve;
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

ve not a rack behind: We are such stuff
As dreams are made of, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

PROSPERO abjures his Magic. Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves ; And

ye, that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him, When he comes back: you demi-puppets, that By moonshine do the green-sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites; and you, whose pastime Is to make midnight-mushrooms; that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid (Weak masters though you be) I have bedimmed The noontide sun, called forth the mutinous winds, And ’twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak With his own bolt: the strong-based promontory Have I made shake. and hv the spurs plucked un

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