Thou told’st me, when we came from horse, the place
Was near at hand. Ne’er long’d 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 perplex’d
Beyond self-explication. Put thyself
Into a haviour of less fear, ere wildness
Vanquish my staider senses. What’s the matter?
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-damn’d Italy hath out-craftied 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.
you told’st me, when we came from horse, the place Was near at hand. Ne’er long’d my mother so To see me first as I have now. Pisanio! Man! Where is Posthumus? What is in your mind That makes you stare thus? Wherefore breaks that sigh From th’ inward of you? One but painted thus Would be interpreted
you told’st me, when we came from horse, the place was near at hand. ne’er long’d my mother so to see me first as i have now. pisanio! man! where is posthumus? what is in your mind that makes you stare thus? wherefore breaks that sigh from th’ inward of you? one but painted thus would be interpreted
you told’st me, when we came from horse, the place
Please you read,
And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing
The most disdain’d of fortune.
Please you read, And you shall find me, wretched man, a thing The most disdain’d of fortune.
please you read, and you shall find me, wretched man, a thing the most disdain’d of fortune.
please you read, and you shall find me, wretched m...
the testimonies whereof lie 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._
the testimonies whereof lie 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 t...
the testimonies whereof lie 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 t...
the testimonies whereof lie bleeding in me. i spea...
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?
What shall I need to draw my sword? The paper has 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 does belie All corners of the world. Kings, queens, and states, Maids, matrons,
what shall i need to draw my sword? the paper has 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 does belie all corners of the world. kings, queens, and states, maids, matrons,
what shall i need to draw my sword? the paper has
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?
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?
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?
false to his bed? what is it to be false? to lie i
Alas, good lady!
Alas, good lady!
alas, good lady!
alas, good lady!...
I false! Thy conscience witness! Iachimo,
Thou didst accuse him of incontinency;
Thou then look’dst like a villain; now, methinks,
Thy favour’s good enough. Some jay of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting, hath betray’d him.
Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion,
And for I am richer than to hang by th’ walls
I must be ripp’d. 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.
I false! your conscience witness! Iachimo, you didst accuse him of incontinency; you then look’dst like a villain; now, methinks, your favour’s good enough. Some jay of Italy, Whose mother was her painting, has betray’d him. Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion, And for I am richer than to hang
i false! your conscience witness! iachimo, you didst accuse him of incontinency; you then look’dst like a villain; now, methinks, your favour’s good enough. some jay of italy, whose mother was her painting, has betray’d him. poor i am stale, a garment out of fashion, and for i am richer than to hang
i false! your conscience witness! iachimo, you did
Good madam, hear me.
Good madam, hear me.
good madam, hear me.
good madam, hear me....
True honest men being heard, like false Æneas,
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 perjur’d
From thy great fail. Come, fellow, be thou honest;
Do thou thy master’s bidding; when thou seest 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.
True honest men being heard, like false Æneas, Were, in his time, thought false; and Sinon’s weeping Did scandal many a holy tear, took pity From most true wretchedness. So you, Posthumus, Wilt lay the leaven on all proper men: Goodly and gallant shall be false and perjur’d From your great fail. Com
true honest men being heard, like false æneas, were, in his time, thought false; and sinon’s weeping did scandal many a holy tear, took pity from most true wretchedness. so you, posthumus, wilt lay the leaven on all proper men: goodly and gallant shall be false and perjur’d from your great fail. com
true honest men being heard, like false æneas, wer
Hence, vile instrument!
Thou shalt not damn my hand.
Hence, vile instrument! Thou shalt not damn my hand.
hence, vile instrument! thou shalt not damn my hand.
hence, vile instrument! thou shalt not damn my han...
Posthumus doesn't even wait for evidence of adultery; he accepts Iachimo's lie as truth and orders Imogen's death. Imogen asks 'False to his bed — what is it to be false?' — she's asking what she actually did. The answer is: nothing. But in a patriarchal system, a man's belief is enough. He doesn't need to prove her guilt; he just needs to decide she's guilty. The scene explores how women's innocence is irrelevant in a world where male authority is absolute. What matters is what the man believes, not what the woman did. Imogen's only recourse is to disappear into a male identity, suggesting that survival requires abandoning the female self entirely.
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 turn’d 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 betray’d
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 disedg’d by her
That now thou tirest on, how thy memory
Will then be pang’d 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.
Why, I must die; And if I do not by your hand, you art No servant of your 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 t
why, i must die; and if i do not by your hand, you art no servant of your 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 t
why, i must die; and if i do not by your hand, you
O gracious lady,
Since I receiv’d command to do this busines
I have not slept one wink.
O gracious lady, Since I receiv’d command to do this busines I have not slept one wink.
o gracious lady, since i receiv’d command to do this busines i have not slept one wink.
o gracious lady, since i receiv’d command to do th...
Do’t, and to bed then.
Do’t, and to bed then.
do’t, and to bed then.
do’t, and to bed then....
I’ll wake mine eyeballs first.
I’ll wake mine eyeballs first.
i’ll wake mine eyeballs first.
i’ll wake mine eyeballs first....
Wherefore then
Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abus’d
So many miles with a pretence? This place?
Mine action and thine own? our horses’ labour?
The time inviting thee? The perturb’d 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?
Wherefore then Didst undertake it? Why hast you abus’d So many miles with a pretence? This place? Mine action and your own? our horses’ labour? The time inviting you? The perturb’d court, For my being absent? whereunto I never Purpose return. Why hast you gone so far To be unbent when you hast ta’en
wherefore then didst undertake it? why hast you abus’d so many miles with a pretence? this place? mine action and your own? our horses’ labour? the time inviting you? the perturb’d court, for my being absent? whereunto i never purpose return. why hast you gone so far to be unbent when you hast ta’en
wherefore then didst undertake it? why hast you ab
But to win time
To lose so bad employment, in the which
I have consider’d of a course. Good lady,
Hear me with patience.
But to win time To lose so bad employment, in the which I have consider’d of a course. Good lady, Hear me with patience.
but to win time to lose so bad employment, in the which i have consider’d of a course. good lady, hear me with patience.
but to win time to lose so bad employment, in the ...
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.
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.
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.
talk thy tongue weary, speak. i have heard i am a ...
Then, madam,
I thought you would not back again.
Then, madam, I thought you would not back again.
then, madam, i thought you would not back again.
then, madam, i thought you would not back again....
Most like,
Bringing me here to kill me.
Most like, Bringing me here to kill me.
most like, bringing me here to kill me.
most like, bringing me here to kill me....
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 abus’d. Some villain,
Ay, and singular in his art, hath done you both
This cursed injury.
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 abus’d. Some villain, Ay, and singular in his art, has done you both This cursed injury.
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 abus’d. some villain, ay, and singular in his art, has done you both this cursed injury.
not so, neither; but if i were as wise as honest,
Some Roman courtezan!
Some Roman courtezan!
some roman courtezan!
some roman courtezan!
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 miss’d at court,
And that will well confirm it.
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 miss’d at court, And that will well confirm it.
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 miss’d at court, and that will well confirm it.
no, on my life! i’ll give but notice you are dead,...
Belarius was exiled for a false accusation and has hidden in Wales for years. Now Imogen, also falsely accused, must also hide and exile herself. By becoming the disguised 'Fidele,' she joins the community of the wrongly exiled. She must lose her name, her sex, her position, and her place in the world. Pisanio's solution is not heroic rescue — it's survival through disappearance. The play suggests that women falsely accused have no recourse to justice; they can only hide. What makes the scene psychologically devastating is that Imogen accepts this without protest. She doesn't demand a trial or an investigation. She knows that in her world, the word of a man is law, and flight is the only option.
Why, good fellow,
What shall I do the while? Where bide? How live?
Or in my life what comfort, when I am
Dead to my husband?
Why, good fellow, What shall I do the while? Where bide? How live? Or in my life what comfort, when I am Dead to my husband?
why, good fellow, what shall i do the while? where bide? how live? or in my life what comfort, when i am dead to my husband?
why, good fellow, what shall i do the while? where
If you’ll back to th’ court—
If you’ll back to th’ court—
if you’ll back to th’ court—
if you’ll back to th’ court—...
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.
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.
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.
no court, no father, nor no more ado with that har...
If not at court,
Then not in Britain must you bide.
If not at court, Then not in Britain must you bide.
if not at court, then not in britain must you bide.
if not at court, then not in britain must you bide...
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.
Where then? has 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. please think There’s livers out of Britain.
where then? has 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. please think there’s livers out of britain.
where then? has britain all the sun that shines? d
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, happily, 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.
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,
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,
i am most glad you think of other place. th’ ambas
O! for such means,
Though peril to my modesty, not death on’t,
I would adventure.
O! for such means, Though peril to my modesty, not death on’t, I would adventure.
o! for such means, though peril to my modesty, not death on’t, i would adventure.
o! for such means, though peril to my modesty, not...
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-answer’d, 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 trims wherein
You made great Juno angry.
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-answer’d, saucy, and As quarrelous as the weasel. no, you must Forget that rar
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-answer’d, saucy, and as quarrelous as the weasel. no, you must forget that rar
well then, here’s the point: you must forget to be
Nay, be brief;
I see into thy end, and am almost
A man already.
Nay, be brief; I see into thy end, and am almost A man already.
nay, be brief; i see into thy end, and am almost a man already.
nay, be brief; i see into thy end, and am almost a...
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.
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
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
first, make yourself but like one. fore-thinking t
Thou art all the comfort
The gods will diet me with. Prithee away!
There’s more to be consider’d; 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.
you art all the comfort The gods will diet me with. please away! There’s more to be consider’d; 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 please.
you art all the comfort the gods will diet me with. please away! there’s more to be consider’d; 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 please.
you art all the comfort the gods will diet me with
Well, madam, we must take a short farewell,
Lest, being miss’d, 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-qualm’d 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!
Well, madam, we must take a short farewell, Lest, being miss’d, 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-qualm’d at land, a dram of this Will drive away distemper. To some sha
well, madam, we must take a short farewell, lest, being miss’d, 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-qualm’d at land, a dram of this will drive away distemper. to some sha
well, madam, we must take a short farewell, lest,
Amen. I thank thee.
Amen. I thank thee.
amen. i thank thee.
amen. i thank thee....
The Reckoning
This is the moment of catastrophic reversal. Imogen has ridden toward what she believed was reunion with her beloved husband, only to learn that husband wants her dead. The shock breaks her. Pisanio's solution — disguise herself, join the Romans, disappear from Britain — is radical. She accepts it because her husband has murdered her honor; she cannot return to the court. The scene turns Imogen into exile as a consequence of Posthumus's misogyny. What he sent her toward (death) Pisanio redirects (disappearance), but the result is the same: she loses her home, her identity, her place.
If this happened today…
A woman drives across the country to reunite with her husband, believing he's waiting with love. When she arrives, her companion reveals her husband ordered her killed, calling her an adulteress. She collapses. Her companion suggests she should disguise herself as a man and disappear into the military. She agrees because she can never go home again.