Cymbeline. Уильям Шекспир

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         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.