Page 553 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

ACT V IT

Scene I IT

Enter Posthumus alone.

POSTHUMUS
Yea, bloody cloth, I’ll keep thee: for I wish’d
Thou shouldst be colour’d thus. You married ones,
If each of you should take this course, how many

Must murder wives much better than themselves
For wrying but a little? O Pisanio, [5]
Every good servant does not all commands:
No bond, but to do just ones. Gods, if you
Should have ta’en vengeance on my faults, I never

Had liv’d to put on this: so had you saved
The noble Imogen, to repent, and struck [10]
Me, wretch, more worth your vengeance. But alack,

You snatch some hence for little faults; that’s love,
To have them fall no more: you some permit
To second ills with ills, each elder worse,
And make them dread it, to the doers’ thrift. [15]
But Imogen is your own, do your best wills,

And make me blest to obey. I am brought hither
Among th’ Italian gentry, and to fight
Against my lady’s kingdom: ’tis enough

That, Britain, I have kill’d thy mistress: peace, [20]
I’ll give no wound to thee: therefore, good heavens,
Hear patiently my purpose. I’ll disrobe me
Of these Italian weeds, and suit myself
As does a Briton peasant: so I’ll fight

Against the part I come with: so I’ll die [25]
For thee, O Imogen, even for whom my life
Is, every breath, a death: and thus, unknown,