Читать книгу Cymbeline (The Unabridged Play) + The Classic Biography: The Life of William Shakespeare - William Shakespeare - Страница 10

Enter Queene, Ladies, and Cornelius.

Qu. Whiles yet the dewe’s on ground,

Gather those Flowers,

Make haste. Who ha’s the note of them?

Lady. I Madam

Queen. Dispatch.

Exit Ladies.

Now Master Doctor, haue you brought those drugges?

Cor. Pleaseth your Highnes, I: here they are, Madam:

But I beseech your Grace, without offence

(My Conscience bids me aske) wherefore you haue

Commanded of me these most poysonous Compounds,

Which are the moouers of a languishing death:

But though slow, deadly

Qu. I wonder, Doctor,

Thou ask’st me such a Question: Haue I not bene

Thy Pupill long? Hast thou not learn’d me how

To make Perfumes? Distill? Preserue? Yea so,

That our great King himselfe doth woo me oft

For my Confections? Hauing thus farre proceeded,

(Vnlesse thou think’st me diuellish) is’t not meete

That I did amplifie my iudgement in

Other Conclusions? I will try the forces

Of these thy Compounds, on such Creatures as

We count not worth the hanging (but none humane)

To try the vigour of them, and apply

Allayments to their Act, and by them gather

Their seuerall vertues, and effects

Cor. Your Highnesse

Shall from this practise, but make hard your heart:

Besides, the seeing these effects will be

Both noysome, and infectious

Qu. O content thee.

Enter Pisanio.

Heere comes a flattering Rascall, vpon him

Will I first worke: Hee’s for his Master,

And enemy to my Sonne. How now Pisanio?

Doctor, your seruice for this time is ended,

Take your owne way

Cor. I do suspect you, Madam,

But you shall do no harme

Qu. Hearke thee, a word Cor. I do not like her. She doth thinke she ha’s

Strange ling’ring poysons: I do know her spirit,

And will not trust one of her malice, with

A drugge of such damn’d Nature. Those she ha’s,

Will stupifie and dull the Sense a-while,

Which first (perchance) shee’l proue on Cats and Dogs,

Then afterward vp higher: but there is

No danger in what shew of death it makes,

More then the locking vp the Spirits a time,

To be more fresh, reuiuing. She is fool’d

With a most false effect: and I, the truer,

So to be false with her

Qu. No further seruice, Doctor,

Vntill I send for thee

Cor. I humbly take my leaue.

Enter.

Qu. Weepes she still (saist thou?)

Dost thou thinke in time

She will not quench, and let instructions enter

Where Folly now possesses? Do thou worke:

When thou shalt bring me word she loues my Sonne,

Ile tell thee on the instant, thou art then

As great as is thy Master: Greater, for

His Fortunes all lye speechlesse, and his name

Is at last gaspe. Returne he cannot, nor

Continue where he is: To shift his being,

Is to exchange one misery with another,

And euery day that comes, comes to decay

A dayes worke in him. What shalt thou expect

To be depender on a thing that leanes?

Who cannot be new built, nor ha’s no Friends

So much, as but to prop him? Thou tak’st vp

Thou know’st not what: But take it for thy labour,

It is a thing I made, which hath the King

Fiue times redeem’d from death. I do not know

What is more Cordiall. Nay, I prythee take it,

It is an earnest of a farther good

That I meane to thee. Tell thy Mistris how

The case stands with her: doo’t, as from thy selfe;

Thinke what a chance thou changest on, but thinke

Thou hast thy Mistris still, to boote, my Sonne,

Who shall take notice of thee. Ile moue the King

To any shape of thy Preferment, such

As thou’lt desire: and then my selfe, I cheefely,

That set thee on to this desert, am bound

To loade thy merit richly. Call my women.

Exit Pisa.

Thinke on my words. A slye, and constant knaue,

Not to be shak’d: the Agent for his Master,

And the Remembrancer of her, to hold

The hand-fast to her Lord. I haue giuen him that,

Which if he take, shall quite vnpeople her

Of Leidgers for her Sweete: and which, she after

Except she bend her humor, shall be assur’d

To taste of too.

Enter Pisanio, and Ladies.

So, so: Well done, well done:

The Violets, Cowslippes, and the Prime-Roses

Beare to my Closset: Fare thee well, Pisanio.

Thinke on my words.

Exit Qu. and Ladies

Pisa. And shall do:

But when to my good Lord, I proue vntrue,

Ile choake my selfe: there’s all Ile do for you.

Enter.