Wales near Milford Haven.
 Enter PISANIO and INNOGEN

Innogen	Thou told'st me when we came from horse, the place
	Was near at hand. Ne'er longed my mother so
	To see me first, as I have now. Pisanio! Man,
	Where is Posthumus? What is in thy mind
	That makes thee stare thus? Wherefore breaks that sigh
	From th' inward of thee? One but painted thus
	Would be interpreted a thing perplexed
	Beyond self-explication. Put thyself
	Into a haviour of less fear, ere wildness
	Vanquish my staider senses. What's the matter?
											[PISANIO gives her a letter.
	Why tender'st thou that paper to me with
	A look untender? If't be summer news,
	Smile to't before; if winterly, thou need'st
	But keep that count'nance still. My husband's hand?
	That drug-damned Italy hath outcraftied him,
	And he's at some hard point. Speak, man; thy tongue
	May take off some extremity which to read
	Would be even mortal to me.

Pisanio										Please you read;
	And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing
	The most disdained of fortune.

Innogen	[Reads.]	"Thy mistress, Pisanio, hath played the strumpet 
	in my bed; the testimonies whereof lies bleeding in me. I 
	speak not out of weak surmises but from proof as strong as 
	my grief, and as certain as I expect 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 opportunity 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 
	pandar to her dishonour, and equally to me disloyal."

Pisanio	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?

Innogen	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's bed, is it?

Pisanio	Alas, good lady!

Innogen	I false? Thy conscience witness! Iachimo,
	Thou didst accuse him of incontinency;
	Thou then looked'st like a villain; now, methinks,
	Thy favour's good enough. Some jay of Italy,
	Whose mother was her painting, hath betrayed him.
	Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion,
	And for I am richer than to hang by th' walls
	I must be ripped. To pieces with me! O,
	Men's vows are women's traitors! All good seeming,
	By thy revolt, O husband, shall be thought
	Put on for villainy; not born where't grows,
	But worn a bait for ladies.

Pisanio									Good madam, hear me.

Innogen	True honest men, being heard like false Aeneas,
	Were, in his time, thought false - and Sinon's weeping
	Did scandal many a holy tear - took pity
	From most true wretchedness. So thou, Posthumus,
	Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men:
	Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjured
	From thy great fail. Come, fellow, be thou honest;
	Do thou thy master's bidding. When thou see'st him,
	A little witness my 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.

Pisanio											Hence, vile instrument,
	Thou shalt not damn my hand.

Innogen									Why, I must die;
	And if I do not by thy hand thou art
	No servant of thy master's. Against self-slaughter
	There is a prohibition so divine
	That cravens my weak hand. Come, here's my heart.
	-Something's afore't. - Soft, soft, we'll no defence;
	Obedient as the scabbard. What is here?
	The scriptures of the loyal Leonatus,
	All turned to heresy? Away, away,
	Corrupters of my faith, you shall no more
	Be stomachers to my heart. Thus may poor fools
	Believe false teachers; though those that are betrayed
	Do feel the treason sharply, yet the traitor
	Stands in worse case of woe. And thou, Posthumus,
	That didst set up my disobedience 'gainst the king
	My father, and make me put into contempt the suits
	Of princely fellows, shalt hereafter find
	It is no act of common passage, but
	A strain of rareness; and I grieve myself
	To think, when thou shalt be disedged by her
	That now thou tirest on, how thy memory
	Will then be panged by me. Prithee 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.

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

Innogen										Do't, and to bed then.

Pisanio	I'll wake mine eyeballs out first.

Innogen											Wherefore then
	Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abused
	So many 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,
	Th' elected deer before thee?

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

Innogen								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.

Pisanio											Then, madam,
	I thought you would not back again.

Innogen											Most like,
	Bringing me here to kill me.

Pisanio								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 cursd injury.

Innogen	Some Roman courtezan?

Pisanio									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.

Innogen											Why, good fellow,
	What shall I do the while? Where abide? How live?
	Or in my life what comfort, when I am
	Dead to my husband?

Pisanio								If you'll back to th' court-

Innogen	No court, no father, nor no more ado
	With that harsh, noble, simple nothing,
	That Cloten, whose love-suit hath been to me
	As fearful as a siege.

Pisanio									If not at court,
	Then not in Britain must you bide.

Innogen											Where then?
	Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night,
	Are they not but in Britain? I'th' world's volume
	Our Britain seems as of it, but not in't;
	In a great pool a swan's nest. Prithee think
	There's livers out of Britain.

Pisanio										I am most glad
	You think of other place. Th' ambassador,
	Lucius the Roman, comes to Milford Haven
	Tomorrow. Now, if you could wear a mind
	Dark, as your fortune is, and but disguise
	That which t' 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.

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

Pisanio							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 it pretty self - into a waggish courage,
	Ready in gibes, quick-answered, saucy, and
	As quarrellous 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 trims wherein
	You made great Juno angry.

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

Pisanio						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're happy - which will 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.

Innogen									Thou art all the comfort
	The gods will diet me with. Prithee, away.
	There's more to be considered; but we'll even
	All that good time will give us. This attempt
	I am soldier to, and will abide it with
	A prince's courage. Away, I prithee.

Pisanio	Well, madam, we must take a short farewell,
	Lest, being missed, I be suspected of
	Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress,
	Here is a box; I had it from the queen.
	What's in't is precious. If you are sick at sea
	Or stomach-qualmed at land, a dram of this
	Will drive away distemper. To some shade,
	And fit you to your manhood. May the gods
	Direct you to the best!

Innogen									Amen. I thank thee.
													[Exeunt severally.
