CYMBELINE
By William Shakespeare
Dramatis Personae.
CYMBELINE, King of Britain.
QUEEN, Wife to Cymbeline, stepmother to Innogen.
INNOGEN, Daughter to Cymbeline by a former Queen.
CLOTEN, Son to the Queen by a former husband.
GUIDERIUS, disguised as Polydore, }
ARVIRAGUS, disguised as Cadwal, } Sons to the King, supposed sons to
MORGAN.
POSTHUMUS Leonatus, a gentleman, husband to Innogen.
PISANIO, Servant to Posthumus.
A LADY, Helen, attending on Innogen.
PHILARIO, Italian friend to Posthumus.
IACHIMO, an Italian, }
A FRENCHMAN, }
A DUTCHMAN, } Friends to Philario.
A SPANIARD, }
BELARIUS, a banished Lord, living under the name of MORGAN.
CORNELIUS, a Physician.
1st LORD, 2nd LORD, Other Lords, of Cymbeline's Court
1st GENTLEMAN, 2nd GENTLEMAN of the same.
1st LADY, Other Ladies of the same.
1st British CAPTAIN, 2nd British CAPTAIN.
1st GAOLER, 2nd GAOLER.
Caius LUCIUS, General of the Roman Forces.
A Roman CAPTAIN.
Roman Officers.
1st SENATOR, 2nd SENATOR.
1st TRIBUNE, Other Tribunes.
A SOOTHSAYER, Philarmonus.
Apparitions:
JUPITER.
The Ghost of SICILIUS Leonatus, father to Posthumus.
The Ghost of Posthumus' MOTHER.
The Ghost of Posthumus' 1st BROTHER.
The Ghost Of Posthumus' 2nd BROTHER.
Musicians, Roman and British Soldiers, Messengers, Attendants.
Scene: sometimes in Britain; sometimes in Italy.
+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++
ACT 1.
Scene 1. Britain. The Garden of Cymbeline's Palace.
Enter 1st and 2nd GENTLEMEN.
1st Gentleman You do not meet a man but frowns; our bloods
No more obey the heavens than our courtiers
Still seem as does the king.
2nd Gentleman But what's the matter?
1st Gentleman His daughter, and the heir of's kingdom, whom
He purposed to his wife's sole son -a widow
That late he married -hath referred herself
Unto a poor but worthy gentleman. She's wedded,
Her husband banished, she imprisoned; all
Is outward sorrow, though I think the king
Be touched at very heart.
2nd Gentleman None but the king?
1st Gentleman He that hath lost her too. So is the queen,
That most desired the match. But not a courtier,
Although they wear their faces to the bent
Of the king's looks, hath a heart that is not
Glad at the thing they scowl at.
2nd Gentleman And why so?
1st Gentleman He that hath missed the princess is a thing
Too bad for bad report; and he that hath her -
I mean that married her -alack, good man! -
And therefore banished -is a creature such
As, to seek through the regions of the earth
For one his like, there would be something failing
In him that should compare. I do not think
So fair an outward and such stuff within
Endows a man but he.
2nd Gentleman You speak him far.
1st Gentleman I do extend him, sir, within himself;
Crush him together, rather than unfold
His measure duly.
2nd Gentleman What's his name and birth?
1st Gentleman I cannot delve him to the root. His father
Was called Sicilius, who did join his honour
Against the Romans with Cassibelan,
But had his titles by Tenantius, whom
He served with glory and admired success,
So gained the sur-addition Leonatus;
And had, besides this gentleman in question,
Two other sons who, in the wars o'th' time
Died with their swords in hand; for which their father,
Then old and fond of issue, took such sorrow
That he quit being; and his gentle lady,
Big of this gentleman, our theme, deceased
As he was born. The king he takes the babe
To his protection, calls him Posthumus Leonatus,
Breeds him, and makes him of his bed-chamber,
Puts to him all the learnings that his time
Could make him the receiver of; which he took
As we do air, fast as 'twas ministered,
And in's spring became a harvest; lived in court -
Which rare it is to do -most praised, most loved;
A sample to the youngest, to th' more mature
A glass that feated them, and to the graver
A child that guided dotards. To his mistress,
For whom he now is banished, her own price
Proclaims how she esteemed him and his virtue.
By her election may be truly read
What kind of man he is.
2nd Gentleman I honour him,
Even out of your report. But pray you tell me,
Is she sole child to th' king?
1st Gentleman His only child.
He had two sons -if this be worth your hearing,
Mark it -the eldest of them at three years old,
I'th' swathing clothes the other, from their nursery
Were stolen, and to this hour no guess in knowledge
Which way they went.
2nd Gentleman How long is this ago?
1st Gentleman Some twenty years.
2nd Gentleman That a king's children should be so conveyed,
So slackly guarded! And the search so slow,
That could not trace them!
1st Gentleman Howsoe'er 'tis strange,
Or that the negligence may well be laughed at,
Yet is it true, sir.
2nd Gentleman I do well believe you.
1st Gentleman We must forbear; here comes the gentleman,
The queen, and princess.
[Exeunt 1st and 2nd GENTLEMEN.
Enter the QUEEN, POSTHUMUS, and INNOGEN.
Queen No, be assured you shall not find me, daughter,
After the slander of most stepmothers,
Evil-eyed unto you. You're my prisoner, but
Your gaoler shall deliver you the keys
That lock up your restraint. For you, Posthumus,
So soon as I can win th' offended king,
I will be known your advocate. Marry, yet
The fire of rage is in him, and 'twere good
You leaned unto his sentence with what patience
Your wisdom may inform you.
Posthumus Please your highness,
I will from hence today.
Queen You know the peril.
I'll fetch a turn about the garden, pitying
The pangs of barred affections, though the king
Hath charged you should not speak together.
[Exit.
Innogen O dissembling courtesy! How fine this tyrant
Can tickle where she wounds! My dearest husband,
I something fear my father's wrath, but nothing -
Always reserved my holy duty -what
His rage can do on me. You must be gone;
And I shall here abide the hourly shot
Of angry eyes; not comforted to live
But that there is this jewel in the world
That I may see again.
Posthumus My queen! My mistress!
O lady, weep no more lest I give cause
To be suspected of more tenderness
Than doth become a man. I will remain
The loyal'st husband that did e'er plight troth.
My residence in Rome at one Philario's,
Who to my father was a friend, to me
Known but by letter; thither write, my queen,
And with mine eyes I'll drink the words you send,
Though ink be made of gall.
Re-enter QUEEN
Queen Be brief, I pray you.
If the king come, I shall incur I know not
How much of his displeasure. [Aside.] Yet I'll move him
To walk this way. I never do him wrong
But he does buy my injuries, to be friends;
Pays dear for my offences.
[Exit.
Posthumus Should we be taking leave
As long a term as yet we have to live,
The loathness to depart would grow. Adieu!
Innogen Nay, stay a little:
Were you but riding forth to air yourself,
Such parting were too petty. Look here, love,
This diamond was my mother's. Take it, heart,
But keep it till you woo another wife,
When Innogen is dead.
Posthumus How, how! Another?
You gentle gods, give me but this I have,
And cere up my embracements from a next
With bonds of death! Remain, remain thou here,
[Putting on the ring.
While sense can keep it on! And, sweetest, fairest,
As I my poor self did exchange for you
To your so infinite loss, so in our trifles
I still win of you. For my sake wear this.
It is a manacle of love; I'll place it
Upon this fairest prisoner.
[Putting a bracelet on her arm.
Innogen O the gods!
When shall we see again?
Enter CYMBELINE and LORDS.
Posthumus Alack, the king!
Cymbeline Thou basest thing, avoid hence, from my sight!
If after this command thou fraught the court
With thy unworthiness, thou diest. Away!
Thou'rt poison to my blood.
Posthumus The gods protect you,
And bless the good remainders of the court!
I am gone.
[Exit.
Innogen There cannot be a pinch in death
More sharp than this is.
Cymbeline O disloyal thing,
That shouldst repair my youth, thou heap'st
A year's age on me.
Innogen I beseech you, sir,
Harm not yourself with your vexation;
I am senseless of your wrath. A touch more rare
Subdues all pangs, all fears.
Cymbeline Past grace, obedience?
Innogen Past hope, and in despair; that way past grace.
Cymbeline That mightst have had the sole son of my queen.
Innogen O blest that I might not! I chose an eagle,
And did avoid a puttock.
Cymbeline Thou took'st a beggar; wouldst have made my throne
A seat for baseness.
Innogen No; I rather added
A lustre to it.
Cymbeline O thou vile one!
Innogen Sir,
It is your fault that I have loved Posthumus.
You bred him as my playfellow, and he is
A man worth any woman; overbuys me
Almost the sum he pays.
Cymbeline What, art thou mad?
Innogen Almost, sir -heaven restore me! Would I were
A neat-herd's daughter, and my Leonatus
Our neighbour-shepherd's son!
Re-enter QUEEN.
Cymbeline Thou foolish thing!
[To QUEEN.] They were again together. You have done
Not after our command. -Away with her,
And pen her up.
Queen Beseech your patience. Peace,
Dear lady daughter, peace! Sweet sovereign,
Leave us to ourselves, and make yourself some comfort
Out of your best advice.
Cymbeline Nay, let her languish
A drop of blood a day, and, being aged,
Die of this folly.
[Exeunt CYMBELINE and LORDS.
Queen Fie, you must give way.
Enter PISANIO.
Here is your servant. How now, sir! What news?
Pisanio My lord your son drew on my master.
Queen Ha!
No harm, I trust, is done?
Pisanio There might have been
But that my master rather played than fought,
And had no help of anger. They were parted
By gentlemen at hand.
Queen I am very glad on't.
Innogen Your son's my father's friend; he takes his part
To draw upon an exile. O brave sir!
I would they were in Afric both together,
Myself by with a needle that I might prick
The goer-back. Why came you from your master?
Pisanio On his command. He would not suffer me
To bring him to the haven, left these notes
Of what commands I should be subject to
When't pleased you to employ me.
Queen This hath been
Your faithful servant; I dare lay mine honour
He will remain so.
Pisanio I humbly thank your highness.
Queen Pray, walk a while.
Innogen About some half hour hence,
Pray you, speak with me. You shall at least
Go see my lord aboard. For this time leave me.
[Exeunt.
+ + + + + +
Scene 2. A public Place.
Enter CLOTEN and 1st and 2nd LORD.
1st Lord Sir, I would advise you to shift a shirt; the violence of action
hath make you reek as a sacrifice; where air comes out, air comes in. There's
none abroad so wholesome as that you vent.
Cloten If my shirt were bloody, then to shift it. Have I hurt him?
2nd Lord [Aside.] No, faith; not so much as his patience.
1st Lord Hurt him? His body's a passable carcass if he be not hurt. It is a
throughfare for steel if it be not hurt.
2nd Lord [Aside.] His steel was in debt; it went o'th' backside the town.
Cloten The villain would not stand me.
2nd Lord [Aside.] No, but he fled forward still, toward your face.
1st Lord Stand you? You have land enough of your own, but he added to your
having; gave you some ground.
2nd Lord [Aside.] As many inches as you have oceans. Puppies!
Cloten I would they had not come between us.
2nd Lord [Aside.] So would I, till you had measured how long a fool you
were upon the ground.
Cloten And that she should love this fellow, and refuse me!
2nd Lord [Aside.] If it be a sin to make a true election, she is damned.
1st Lord Sir, as I told you always, her beauty and her brain go not
together. She's a good sign, but I have seen small reflection of her wit.
2nd Lord [Aside.] She shines not upon fools, lest the reflection should
hurt her.
Cloten Come, I'll to my chamber. Would there had been some hurt done!
2nd Lord [Aside.] I wish not so, unless it had been the fall of an ass,
which is no great hurt.
Cloten You'll go with us?
1st Lord I'll attend your lordship.
Cloten Nay, come, let's go together.
2nd Lord Well, my lord.
[Exeunt.
+ + + + + +
Scene 3. A Room in Cymbeline's Palace.
Enter INNOGEN and PISANIO.
Innogen I would thou grew'st unto the shores o'th' haven,
And questioned'st every sail. If he should write
And I not have it, 'twere a paper lost,
As offered mercy is. What was the last
That he spake to thee?
Pisanio It was: His queen, his queen!
Innogen Then waved his handkerchief?
Pisanio And kissed it, madam.
Innogen Senseless linen, happier therein than I!
And that was all?
Pisanio No, madam; for so long
As he could make me with this eye or ear
Distinguish him from others, he did keep
The deck, with glove, or hat, or handkerchief,
Still waving, as the fits and stirs of's mind
Could best express how slow his soul sailed on,
How swift his ship.
Innogen Thou shouldst have made him
As little as a crow, or less, ere left
To after-eye him.
Pisanio Madam, so I did.
Innogen I would have broke mine eye-strings, cracked them, but
To look upon him till the diminution
Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle;
Nay, followed him till he had melted from
The smallness of a gnat to air; and then
Have turned mine eye and wept. But, good Pisanio,
When shall we hear from him?
Pisanio Be assured, madam,
With his next vantage.
Innogen I did not take my leave of him, but had
Most pretty things to say. Ere I could tell him
How I would think on him at certain hours,
Such thoughts and such; or I could make him swear
The shes of Italy should not betray
Mine interest and his honour; or have charged him,
At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight,
T' encounter me with orisons, for then
I am in heaven for him; or ere I could
Give him that parting kiss which I had set
Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father,
And like the tyrannous breathing of the north,
Shakes all our buds from growing.
Enter A LADY.
Lady The queen, madam,
Desires your highness' company.
Innogen Those things I bid you do, get them dispatched.
I will attend the queen.
Pisanio Madam, I shall.
[Exeunt.
+ + + + + +
Scene 4. Rome. Philario's House.
Enter PHILARIO, IACHIMO, a FRENCHMAN, a DUTCHMAN, and a SPANIARD.
Iachimo Believe it, sir, I have seen him in Britain. He was then of a
crescent note, expected to prove so worthy as since he hath been allowed the
name of. But I could then have looked on him without the help of admiration,
though the catalogue of his endowments had been tabled by his side, and I to
peruse him by items.
Philario You speak of him when he was less furnished than now he is with
that which makes him both without and within.
Frenchman I have seen him in France; we had very many there could behold
the sun with as firm eyes as he.
Iachimo This matter of marrying his king's daughter, wherein he must be
weighed rather by her value than his own, words him, I doubt not, a great deal
from the matter.
Frenchman And then his banishment.
Iachimo Ay, and the approbation of those that weep this lamentable divorce
under her colours are wonderfully to extend him, be it but to fortify her
judgement, which else an easy battery might lay flat, for taking a beggar
without less quality. But how comes it he is to sojourn with you? How creeps
acquaintance?
Philario His father and I were soldiers together, to whom I have been often
bound for no less than my life.
Enter POSTHUMUS.
Here comes the Briton. Let him be so entertained amongst you as suits with
gentlemen of your knowing to a stranger of his quality. I beseech you all be
better known to this gentleman, whom I commend to you as a noble friend of
mine. How worthy he is I will leave to appear hereafter, rather than story him
in his own hearing.
Frenchman Sir, we have known together in Orleans.
Posthumus Since when I have been debtor to you for courtesies, which I will
be ever to pay, and yet pay still.
Frenchman Sir, you o'errate my poor kindness. I was glad I did atone my
countryman and you; it had be pity you should have been put together with so
mortal a purpose as then each bore, upon importance of so slight and trivial a
nature.
Posthumus By your pardon, sir, I was then a young traveller; rather shunned
to go even with what I heard than in my every action to be guided by others'
experiences; but upon my mended judgement -if I offend not to say it is mended
-my quarrel was not altogether slight.
Frenchman Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitrement of swords, and by such
two that would, by all likelihood, have confounded one the other, or have
fallen both.
Iachimo Can we with manners ask what was the difference?
Frenchman Safely, I think. 'Twas a contention in public which may without
contradiction suffer the report. It was much like an argument that fell out
last night, where each of us fell in praise of our country mistresses; this
gentleman at that time vouching -and upon warrant of bloody affirmation -his
to be more fair, virtuous, wise, chaste, constant, qualified, and less
attemptable, than any the rarest of our ladies in France.
Iachimo That lady is not now living, or this gentleman's opinion by this
worn out.
Posthumus She holds her virtue still, and I my mind.
Iachimo You must not so far prefer her 'fore ours of Italy.
Posthumus Being so far provoked as I was in France, I would abate her
nothing, though I profess myself her adorer, not her friend.
Iachimo As fair and as good -a kind of hand-in-hand comparison -had been
something too fair and too good for any lady in Britain. If she went before
others I have seen, as that diamond of yours outlustres many I have beheld, I
could not but believe she excelled many; but I have not seen the most precious
diamond that is, nor you the lady.
Posthumus I praised her as I rated her; so do I my stone.
Iachimo What do you esteem it at?
Posthumus More than the world enjoys.
Iachimo Either your unparagoned mistress is dead, or she's outprized by a
trifle.
Posthumus You are mistaken. The one may be sold or given, if there were
wealth enough for the purchases, or merit for the gift; the other is not a
thing for sale, and only the gift of the gods.
Iachimo Which the gods have given you?
Posthumus Which by their graces I will keep.
Iachimo You may wear her in title yours; but you know strange fowl light
upon neighbouring ponds. Your ring may be stolen too; so your brace of
unprizable estimations. The one is but frail and the other casual; a cunning
thief, or a that-way-accomplished courtier, would hazard the winning both of
first and last.
Posthumus Your Italy contains none so accomplished a courtier to convince
the honour of my mistress, if in the holding or loss of that you term her
frail. I do nothing doubt you have store of thieves; notwithstanding, I fear
not my ring.
Philario Let us leave here, gentlemen.
Posthumus Sir, with all my heart. This worthy signor, I thank him, makes no
stranger of me; we are familiar at first.
Iachimo With five times so much conversation I should get ground of your
fair mistress, make her go back even to the yielding, had I admittance and
opportunity to friend.
Posthumus No, no.
Iachimo I dare thereupon pawn the moiety of my estate to your ring, which
in my opinion o'ervalues it something. But I make my wager rather against your
confidence than her reputation; and, to bar your offence herein too, I durst
attempt it against any lady in the world.
Posthumus You are a great deal abused in too bold a persuasion, and I doubt
not you sustain what you're worthy of by your attempt.
Iachimo What's that?
Posthumus A repulse; though your attempt, as you call it, deserve more -a
punishment too.
Philario Gentlemen, enough of this; it came in too suddenly. Let it die as
it was born, and, I pray you, be better acquainted.
Iachimo Would I had put my estate and my neighbour's on th' approbation of
what I have spoke!
Posthumus What lady would you choose to assail?
Iachimo Yours, whom in constancy you think stands so safe. I will lay you
ten thousand ducats to your ring that, commend me to the court where your lady
is, with no more advantage than the opportunity of a second conference, and I
will bring from thence that honour of hers, which you imagine so reserved.
Posthumus I will wage against your gold, gold to it. My ring I hold dear as
my finger, 'tis part of it.
Iachimo You are afraid, and therein the wiser. If you buy ladies' flesh at
a million a dram, you cannot preserve it from tainting. But I see you have
some religion in you, that you fear.
Posthumus This is but a custom in your tongue; you bear a graver purpose, I
hope.
Iachimo I am the master of my speeches, and would undergo what's spoken, I
swear.
Posthumus Will you? I shall but lend my diamond till your return. Let there
be covenants drawn between's: my mistress exceeds in goodness the hugeness of
your unworthy thinking. I dare you to this match; here's my ring.
Philario I will have it no lay.
Iachimo By the gods, it is one. If I bring you no sufficient testimony that
I have enjoyed the dearest bodily part of your mistress, my ten thousand
ducats are yours, so is your diamond too. If I come off, and leave her in such
honour as you have trust in, she your jewel, this your jewel, and my gold are
yours; provided I have your commendation for my more free entertainment.
Posthumus I embrace these conditions; let us have articles betwixt us.
Only, thus far you shall answer: if you make your voyage upon her, and give me
directly to understand you have prevailed, I am no further your enemy; she is
not worth our debate. If she remain unseduced, you not making it appear
otherwise, for your ill opinion and th' assault you have made to her chastity,
you shall answer me with your sword.
Iachimo Your hand, a covenant! We will have these things set down by lawful
counsel, and straight away for Britain, lest the bargain should catch cold and
starve. I will fetch my gold, and have our two wagers recorded.
Posthumus Agreed.
[Exeunt POSTHUMUS and IACHIMO.
Frenchman Will this hold, think you?
Philario Signor Iachimo will not from it. Pray, let us follow 'em.
[Exeunt.
+ + + + + +
Scene 5. Britain. A Room in Cymbeline's Palace.
Enter QUEEN, LADIES, and CORNELIUS.
Queen Whiles yet the dew's on ground, gather those flowers;
Make haste; who has the note of them?
1st Lady I, madam.
Queen Dispatch.
[Exeunt LADIES.
Now, master doctor, have you brought those drugs?
Cornelius Pleaseth your highness, ay. Here they are, madam.
[Presenting a small box.
But, I beseech your grace, without offence -
My conscience bids me ask -wherefore you have
Commanded of me these most poisonous compounds,
Which are the movers of a languishing death,
But, though slow, deadly.
Queen I wonder, doctor,
Thou ask'st me such a question. Have I not been
Thy pupil long? Hast thou not learned me how
To make perfumes, distil, preserve; yea, so
That our great king himself doth woo me oft
For my confections? Having thus far proceeded -
Unless thou think'st me devilish -is't not meet
That I did amplify my judgement in
Other conclusions? I will try the forces
Of these thy compounds on such creatures as
We count not worth the hanging, but none human,
To try the vigour of them, and apply
Allayments to their act, and by them gather
Their several virtues and effects.
Cornelius Your highness
Shall from this practice but make hard your heart;
Besides, the seeing these effects will be
Both noisome and infectious.
Queen O, content thee.
Enter PISANIO.
[Aside.] Here comes a flattering rascal. Upon him
Will I first work. He's for his master,
And enemy to my son. -How now, Pisanio!
Doctor, your service for this time is ended;
Take your own way.
Cornelius [Aside.] I do suspect you, madam,
But you shall do no harm.
Queen [To PISANIO.] Hark thee, a word.
Cornelius [Aside.] I do not like her. She doth think she has
Strange lingering poisons. I do know her spirit,
And will not trust one of her malice with
A drug of such damned nature. Those she has
Will stupify and dull the sense awhile;
Which first, perchance, she'll prove on cats and dogs,
Then afterward up higher; but there is
No danger in what show of death it makes
More than the locking up the spirits a time,
To be more fresh, reviving. She is fooled
With a most false effect; and I the truer
So to be false with her.
Queen No further service, doctor,
Until I send for thee.
Cornelius I humbly take my leave.
[Exit.
Queen Weeps she still, sayst thou? Dost thou think in time
She will not quench, and let instructions enter
Where folly now possesses? Do thou work.
When thou shalt bring me word she loves my son,
I'll tell thee on the instant thou art then
As great as is thy master; greater, for
His fortunes all lie speechless, and his name
Is at last gasp. Return he cannot, nor
Continue where he is. To shift his being
Is to exchange one misery with another,
And every day that comes, comes to decay
A day's work in him. What shalt thou expect,
To be depender on a thing that leans;
Who cannot be new built, nor has no friends
So much as but to prop him?
[The QUEEN drops the box. PISANIO takes it up.
Thou tak'st up
Thou know'st not what; but take it for thy labour.
It is a thing I made which hath the king
Five times redeemed from death; I do not know
What is more cordial. Nay, I prithee, take it,
It is an earnest of a further good
That I mean to thee. Tell thy mistress how
The case stands with her; do't as from thyself.
Think what a chance thou changest on; but think
Thou hast thy mistress still; to boot, my son
Who shall take notice of thee. I'll move the king
To any shape of thy preferment such
As thou'lt desire; and then myself, I chiefly,
That set thee on to this desert, am bound
To load thy merit richly. Call my women.
Think on my words.
[Exit PISANIO.
A sly and constant knave,
Not to be shaked: the agent for his master,
And the remembrancer of her, to hold
The hand-fast to her lord. I have given him that
Which, if he take, shall quite unpeople her
Of liegers for her sweet; and which she after,
Except she bend her humour, shall be assured
To taste of too.
Re-enter PISANIO with LADIES.
So, so; well done, well done.
The violets, cowslips, and the primroses,
Bear to my closet. Fare thee well, Pisanio;
Think on my words.
[Exeunt QUEEN and LADIES.
Pisanio And shall do.
But when to my good lord I prove untrue,
I'll choke myself: -there's all I'll do for you.
[Exit.
+ + + + + +
Scene 6. Another Room in the Palace.
Enter INNOGEN.
Innogen A father cruel, and a stepdame false,
A foolish suitor to a wedded lady
That hath her husband banished. O, that husband,
My supreme crown of grief! And those repeated
Vexations of it! Had I been thief-stol'n,
As my two brothers, happy; but most miserable
Is the desire that's glorious. Blest be those,
How mean soe'er, that have their honest wills,
Which seasons comfort. Who may this be? Fie!
Enter PISANIO and IACHIMO.
Pisanio Madam, a noble gentleman of Rome
Comes from my lord with letters.
Iachimo Change you, madam;
The worthy Leonatus is in safety,
And greets your highness dearly.
[Presents a letter.
Innogen Thanks, good sir,
You're kindly welcome.
Iachimo [Aside.] All of her that is out of door most rich!
If she be furnished with a mind so rare,
She is alone th' Arabian bird, and I
Have lost the wager. Boldness be my friend!
Arm me, audacity, from head to foot,
Or, like the Parthian, I shall flying fight;
Rather, directly fly.
Innogen [Reads.] "He is one of the noblest note, to whose kindnesses I
am most infinitely tied. Reflect upon him accordingly, as you value your trust.
LEONATUS."
So far I read aloud;
But even the very middle of my heart
Is warmed by th' rest, and takes it thankfully.
You are as welcome, worthy sir, as I
Have words to bid you, and shall find it so
In all that I can do.
Iachimo Thanks, fairest lady.
What, are men mad? Hath nature given them eyes
To see this vaulted arch and the rich crop
Of sea and land, which can distinguish 'twixt
The fiery orbs above and the twinned stones
Upon the numbered beach, and can we not
Partition make with spectacles so precious
'Twixt fair and foul?
Innogen What makes your admiration?
Iachimo It cannot be i'th' eye, for apes and monkeys
'Twixt two such shes would chatter this way and
Contemn with mows the other; nor i'th' judgement,
For idiots in this case of favour would
Be wisely definite; nor i'th' appetite,
Sluttery to such neat excellence opposed
Should make desire vomit emptiness,
Not so allured to feed.
Innogen What is the matter, trow?
Iachimo The cloyed will,
That satiate yet unsatisfied desire, that tub
Both filled and running, ravening first the lamb,
Longs after for the garbage.
Innogen What, dear sir,
Thus raps you? Are you well?
Iachimo Thanks, madam, well.
[To PISANIO.] Beseech you, sir,
Desire my man's abode where I did leave him.
He's strange and peevish.
Pisanio I was going, sir,
To give him welcome.
[Exit.
Innogen Continues well my lord? His health, beseech you?
Iachimo Well, madam.
Innogen Is he disposed to mirth? I hope he is.
Iachimo Exceeding pleasant; none a stranger there
So merry and so gamesome. He is called
The Briton reveller.
Innogen When he was here
He did incline to sadness, and oft-times
Not knowing why.
Iachimo I never saw him sad.
There is a Frenchman his companion, one
An eminent monsieur that, it seems, much loves
A Gallian girl at home. He furnaces
The thick sighs from him, whiles the jolly Briton,
Your lord, I mean, laughs from's free lungs, cries `O,
Can my sides hold, to think that man -who knows
By history, report, or his own proof,
What woman is, yea, what she cannot choose
But must be -will's free hours languish for
Assured bondage?'
Innogen Will my lord say so?
Iachimo Ay, madam, with his eyes in flood with laughter.
It is a recreation to be by
And hear him mock the Frenchman. But heavens know
Some men are much to blame.
Innogen Not he, I hope.
Iachimo Not he; but yet heaven's bounty towards him might
Be used more thankfully. In himself 'tis much;
In you, which I account his, beyond all talents.
Whilst I am bound to wonder, I am bound
To pity too.
Innogen What do you pity, sir?
Iachimo Two creatures heartily.
Innogen Am I one, sir?
You look on me. What wreck discern you in me
Deserves your pity?
Iachimo Lamentable! What,
To hide me from the radiant sun, and solace
I'th' dungeon by a snuff?
Innogen I pray you, sir,
Deliver with more openness your answers
To my demands. Why do you pity me?
Iachimo That others do,
I was about to say enjoy your -But
It is an office of the gods to venge it,
Not mine to speak on't.
Innogen You do seem to know
Something of me, or what concerns me. Pray you,
Since doubting things go ill often hurts more
Than to be sure they do -for certainties
Either are past remedies, or, timely knowing,
The remedy then born -discover to me
What both you spur and stop.
Iachimo Had I this cheek
To bathe my lips upon; this hand whose touch,
Whose every touch, would force the feeler's soul
To th' oath of loyalty; this object which
Takes prisoner the wild motion of mine eye,
Firing it only here; should I, damned then,
Slaver with lips as common as the stairs
That mount the Capitol, join gripes with hands
Made hard with hourly falsehood -falsehood as
With labour -then by-peeping in an eye
Base and illustrous as the smoky light
That's fed with stinking tallow; it were fit
That all the plagues of hell should at one time
Encounter such revolt.
Innogen My lord, I fear,
Has forgot Britain.
Iachimo And himself. Not I
Inclined to this intelligence pronounce
The beggary of his change; but 'tis your graces
That from my mutest conscience to my tongue
Charms this report out.
Innogen Let me hear no more.
Iachimo O dearest soul, your cause doth strike my heart
With pity that doth make me sick! A lady
So fair, and fastened to an empery,
Would make the great'st king double, to be partnered
With tomboys hired with that self-exhibition
Which your own coffers yield, with diseased ventures
That play with all infirmities for gold
Which rottenness can lead nature! Such boiled stuff
As well might poison poison! Be revenged,
Or she that bore you was no queen, and you
Recoil from your great stock.
Innogen Revenged?
How should I be revenged? If this be true -
As I have such a heart that both mine ears
Must not in haste abuse -if it be true,
How should I be revenged?
Iachimo Should he make me
Live like Diana's priest, betwixt cold sheets,
Whiles he is vaulting variable ramps,
In your despite, upon your purse? Revenge it.
I dedicate myself to your sweet pleasure,
More noble than that runagate to your bed,
And will continue fast to your affection,
Still close as sure.
Innogen What ho, Pisanio!
Iachimo Let me my service tender on your lips.
Innogen Away! I do condemn mine ears that have
So long attended thee. If thou wert honourable
Thou wouldst have told this tale for virtue, not
For such an end thou seek'st, as base, as strange.
Thou wrong'st a gentleman who is as far
From thy report as thou from honour; and
Solicit'st here a lady that disdains
Thee and the devil alike. -What ho, Pisanio!
The king my father shall be made acquainted
Of thy assault. If he shall think it fit
A saucy stranger in his court to mart
As in a Romish stew, and to expound
His beastly mind to us, he hath a court
He little cares for, and a daughter who
He not respects at all. -What ho, Pisanio!
Iachimo O happy Leonatus! I may say
The credit that thy lady hath of thee
Deserves thy trust, and thy most perfect goodness
Her assured credit. Blessed live you long!
A lady to the worthiest sir that ever
Country called his; and you his mistress, only
For the most worthiest fit! Give me your pardon;
I have spoke this to know if your affiance
Were deeply rooted, and shall make your lord
That which he is new o'er; and he is one
The truest mannered, such a holy witch
That he enchants societies into him;
Half all men's hearts are his.
Innogen You make amends.
Iachimo He sits 'mongst men like a descended god.
He hath a kind of honour sets him off
More than a mortal seeming. Be not angry,
Most mighty princess, that I have adventured
To try your taking of a false report, which hath
Honoured with confirmation your great judgement
In the election of a sir so rare,
Which you know cannot err. The love I bear him
Made me to fan you thus; but the gods made you,
Unlike all others, chaffless. Pray, your pardon.
Innogen All's well, sir; take my power i'th' court for yours.
Iachimo My humble thanks. I had almost forgot
T' entreat your grace but in a small request,
And yet of moment too, for it concerns.
Your lord, myself, and other noble friends,
Are partners in the business.
Innogen Pray, what is't?
Iachimo Some dozen Romans of us, and your lord -
The best feather of our wing -have mingled sums
To buy a present for the emperor;
Which I, the factor for the rest, have done
In France. 'Tis plate of rare device, and jewels
Of rich and exquisite form, their values great;
And I am something curious, being strange,
To have them in safe stowage. May it please you
To take them in protection?
Innogen Willingly;
And pawn mine honour for their safety, since
My lord hath interest in them. I will keep them
In my bedchamber.
Iachimo They are in a trunk
Attended by my men. I will make bold
To send them to you, only for this night;
I must aboard tomorrow.
Innogen O, no, no.
Iachimo Yes, I beseech; or I shall short my word
By lengthening my return. From Gallia
I crossed the seas on purpose and on promise
To see your grace.
Innogen I thank you for your pains;
But not away tomorrow!
Iachimo O, I must, madam.
Therefore I shall beseech you, if you please
To greet your lord with writing, do't tonight.
I have outstood my time, which is material
To th' tender of our present.
Innogen I will write.
Send your trunk to me; it shall safe be kept,
And truly yielded you. You're very welcome.
[Exeunt.
+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++
ACT 2.
Scene 1. Britain. Court before Cymbeline's Palace.
Enter CLOTEN, 1st LORD, and 2nd LORD.
Cloten Was there ever man had such luck! When I kissed the jack, upon an
up-cast to be hit away! I had a hundred pound on't; and then a whoreson
jackanapes must take me up for swearing; as if I borrowed mine oaths of him,
and might not spend them at my pleasure.
1st Lord What got he by that? You have broke his pate with your bowl.
2nd Lord [Aside.] If his wit has been like him that broke it, it would have
run all out.
Cloten When a gentleman is disposed to swear, it is not for any standers-by
to curtail his oaths, ha?
2nd Lord No, my lord; [Aside.] nor crop the ears of them.
Cloten Whoreson dog! I give him satisfaction? Would he had been one of my
rank!
2nd Lord [Aside.] To have smelled like a fool.
Cloten I am not vexed more at anything in th' earth. A pox on't! I had
rather not be so noble as I am: they dare not fight with me because of the
queen my mother. Every Jack-slave hath his bellyful of fighting, and I must go
up and down like a cock that nobody can match.
2nd Lord [Aside.] You are cock, and capon too, an you crow `Cock' with your
comb on.
Cloten Sayst thou?
2nd Lord It is not fit your lordship should undertake every companion that
you give offence to.
Cloten No, I know that; but it is fit I should commit offence to my
inferiors.
2nd Lord Ay, it is fit for your lordship only.
Cloten Why, so I say.
1st Lord Did you hear of a stranger that's come to court tonight?
Cloten A stranger, and I not know on't?
2nd Lord [Aside.] He's a strange fellow himself, and knows it not.
1st Lord There's an Italian come, and, 'tis thought, one of Leonatus'
friends.
Cloten Leonatus? A banished rascal; and he's another, whatsoever he be. Who
told you of this stranger?
1st Lord One of your lordship's pages.
Cloten Is it fit I went to look upon him? Is there no derogation in't?
2nd Lord You cannot derogate, my lord.
Cloten Not easily, I think.
2nd Lord [Aside.] You are a fool granted; therefore your issues, being
foolish, do not derogate.
Cloten Come, I'll go see this Italian. What I have lost today at bowls I'll
win tonight of him. Come, go.
2nd Lord I'll attend your lordship.
[Exeunt CLOTEN and 1st LORD.
That such a crafty devil as is his mother
Should yield the world this ass! -a woman that
Bears all down with her brain, and this her son
Cannot take two from twenty, for his heart,
And leave eighteen. Alas, poor princess,
Thou divine Innogen, what thou endur'st,
Betwixt a father by thy stepdame governed,
A mother hourly coining plots, a wooer
More hateful than the foul expulsion is
Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act
Of the divorce he'd make! The heavens hold firm
The walls of thy dear honour; keep unshaked
That temple, thy fair mind, that thou mayst stand
T' enjoy thy banished lord, and this great land!
[Exit.
+ + + + + +
Scene 2. Innogen's Bedchamber; in one Part of it a Trunk.
INNOGEN in bed reading; A LADY attending.
Innogen Who's there? My woman Helen?
Lady Please you, madam.
Innogen What hour is it?
Lady Almost midnight, madam.
Innogen I have read three hours, then; mine eyes are weak.
Fold down the leaf where I have left. To bed.
Take not away the taper, leave it burning;
And if thou canst awake by four o'th' clock,
I prithee call me. Sleep hath seized me wholly.
[Exit LADY.
To your protection I commend me, gods.
From fairies and the tempters of the night
Guard me, beseech ye.
[Sleeps.
IACHIMO comes from the trunk.
Iachimo The crickets sing, and man's o'erlaboured sense
Repairs itself by rest. Our Tarquin thus
Did softly press the rushes ere he wakened
The chastity he wounded. Cytherea,
How bravely thou becomest thy bed! Fresh lily,
And whiter than the sheets! That I might touch;
But kiss one kiss! Rubies unparagoned,
How dearly they do't! 'Tis her breathing that
Perfumes the chamber thus. The flame o'th' taper
Bows toward her and would under-peep her lids
To see th' enclosed lights, now canopied
Under these windows, white and azure laced
With blue of heaven's own tinct. But my design.
To note the chamber; I will write all down.
Such and such pictures; there the window; such
Th' adornment of her bed, the arras, figures,
Why, such and such; and the contents o'th' story.
Ah, but some natural notes about her body
Above ten thousand meaner moveables
Would testify t' enrich mine inventory.
O sleep, thou ape of death, lie dull upon her;
And be her sense but as a monument
Thus in a chapel lying! -Come off, come off.
[Taking the bracelet from her arm.
As slippery as the Gordian knot was hard!
'Tis mine; and this will witness outwardly,
As strongly as the conscience does within,
To th' madding of her lord. On her left breast
A mole, cinque-spotted like the crimson drops
I'th' bottom of a cowslip. Here's a voucher,
Stronger than ever law could make. This secret
Will force him think I have picked the lock and ta'en
The treasure of her honour. No more. To what end?
Why should I write this down that's riveted,
Screwed to my memory? She hath been reading late
The tale of Tereus; here the leaf's turned down
Where Philomel gave up. I have enough.
To th' trunk again, and shut the spring of it.
Swift, swift, you dragons of the night, that dawning
May bare the raven's eye! I lodge in fear;
Though this a heavenly angel, hell is here.
[Clock strikes.
One, two, three. Time, time!
[Exit into the trunk.
+ + + + + +
Scene 3. An Antechamber adjoining Innogen's Apartments.
Enter CLOTEN, 1st LORD and 2nd LORD.
1st Lord Your lordship is the most patient man in loss, the most coldest
that ever turned up ace.
Cloten It would make any man cold to lose.
1st Lord But not every man patient after the noble temper of your lordship.
You are most hot and furious when you win.
Cloten Winning will put any man into courage. If I could get this foolish
Innogen, I should have gold enough. It's almost morning, is't not?
1st Lord Day, my lord.
Cloten I would this music would come. I am advised to give her music a
mornings; they say it will penetrate.
Enter MUSICIANS.
Come on, tune. If you can penetrate her with your fingering, so. We'll try
with tongue too. If none will do, let her remain; but I'll never give o'er.
First, a very excellent good conceited thing; after, a wonderful sweet air,
with admirable rich words to it; and then let her consider.
SONG
Musician Hark, hark, the lark at heaven's gate sings,
And Phoebus 'gins arise,
His steeds to water at those springs
On chaliced flowers that lies;
And winking Mary-buds begin to ope their golden eyes;
With everything that pretty is, my lady sweet, arise;
Arise, arise!
Cloten So, get you gone. If this penetrate, I will consider your music the
better; if it do not, it is a vice in her ears, which horse-hairs and
calves'-guts, nor the voice of unpaved eunuch to boot, can never amend.
[Exeunt MUSICIANS.
Enter CYMBELINE and QUEEN.
2nd Lord Here comes the king.
Cloten I am glad I was up so late, for that's the reason I was up so early.
He cannot choose but take this service I have done fatherly. Good morrow to
your majesty, and to my gracious mother.
Cymbeline Attend you here the door of our stern daughter?
Will she not forth?
Cloten I have assailed her with musics, but she vouchsafes no notice.
Cymbeline The exile of her minion is too new;
She hath not yet forgot him. Some more time
Must wear the print of his remembrance on't,
And then she's yours.
Queen You are most bound to th' king,
Who lets go by no vantages that may
Prefer you to his daughter. Frame yourself
To orderly solicits, and be friended
With aptness of the season; make denials
Increase your services; so seem as if
You were inspired to do those duties which
You tender to her; that you in all obey her,
Save when command to your dismission tends,
And therein you are senseless.
Cloten Senseless? -Not so.
Enter A MESSENGER.
Messenger So like you, sir, ambassadors from Rome;
The one is Caius Lucius.
Cymbeline A worthy fellow,
Albeit he comes on angry purpose now;
But that's no fault of his. We must receive him
According to the honour of his sender,
And towards himself, his goodness forespent on us,
We must extend our notice. Our dear son,
When you have given good morning to your mistress,
Attend the queen and us; we shall have need
T' employ you towards this Roman. Come, our queen.
[Exeunt all but CLOTEN.
Cloten If she be up, I'll speak with her; if not,
Let her lie still, and dream. By your leave, ho!
[Knocks.
I know her women are about her; what
If I do line one of their hands? 'Tis gold
Which buys admittance; oft it doth, yea, and makes
Diana's rangers false themselves, yield up
Their deer to th' stand o'th' stealer; and 'tis gold
Which makes the true man killed and saves the thief;
Nay, sometime hangs both thief and true man. What
Can it not do and undo? I will make
One of her women lawyer to me, for
I yet not understand the case myself.
By your leave!
[Knocks.
Enter A LADY.
Lady Who's there that knocks?
Cloten A gentleman.
Lady No more?
Cloten Yes, and a gentlewoman's son.
Lady That's more
Than some whose tailors are as dear as yours
Can justly boast of. What's your lordship's pleasure?
Cloten Your lady's person; is she ready?
Lady Ay,
To keep her chamber.
Cloten There is gold for you; sell me your good report.
Lady How? My good name, or to report of you
What I shall think is good?
Enter INNOGEN.
The princess.
[Exit LADY.
Cloten Good morrow, fairest. Sister, your sweet hand.
Innogen Good morrow, sir. You lay out too much pains
For purchasing but trouble. The thanks I give
Is telling you that I am poor of thanks,
And scarce can spare them.
Cloten Still I swear I love you.
Innogen If you but said so, 'twere as deep with me;
If you swear still, your recompense is still
That I regard it not.
Cloten This is no answer.
Innogen But that you shall not say I yield being silent,
I would not speak. I pray you, spare me. Faith,
I shall unfold equal discourtesy
To your best kindness. One of your great knowing
Should learn, being taught, forbearance.
Cloten To leave you in your madness 'twere my sin;
I will not.
Innogen Fools are not mad folks.
Cloten Do you call me fool?
Innogen As I am mad, I do.
If you'll be patient, I'll no more be mad;
That cures us both. I am much sorry, sir,
You put me to forget a lady's manners
By being so verbal; and learn now, for all,
That I, which know my heart, do here pronounce,
By th' very truth of it, I care not for you,
And am so near the lack of charity
To accuse myself I hate you; which I had rather
You felt than make't my boast.
Cloten You sin against
Obedience, which you owe your father. For
The contract you pretend with that base wretch,
One bred of alms and fostered with cold dishes,
With scraps o'th' court, it is no contract, none;
And though it be allowed in meaner parties -
Yet who than he more mean? -to knit their souls,
On whom there is no more dependency
But brats and beggary, in self-figured knot,
Yet you are curbed from that enlargement by
The consequence o'th' crown, and must not foil
The precious note of it with a base slave,
A hilding for a livery, a squire's cloth,
A pantler, not so eminent.
Innogen Profane fellow!
Wert thou the son of Jupiter, and no more
But what thou art besides, thou wert too base
To be his groom. Thou wert dignified enough,
Even to the point of envy, if 'twere made
Comparative for your virtues to be styled
The under-hangman of his kingdom, and hated
For being preferred so well.
Cloten The south-fog rot him!
Innogen He never can meet more mischance than come
To be but named of thee. His meanest garment
That ever hath but clipped his body is dearer
In my respect than all the hairs above thee,
Were they all made such men.
Enter PISANIO.
How now, Pisanio!
Cloten `His garment!' Now the devil -
Innogen To Dorothy my woman hie thee presently.
Cloten `His garment!'
Innogen I am sprited with a fool,
Frighted, and angered worse. Go bid my woman
Search for a jewel that too casually
Hath left mine arm. It was thy master's; 'shrew me,
If I would lose it for a revenue
Of any king's in Europe! I do think
I saw't this morning; confident I am
Last night 'twas on mine arm; I kissed it.
I hope it be not gone to tell my lord
That I kiss aught but he.
Pisanio 'Twill not be lost.
Innogen I hope so. Go and search.
[Exit PISANIO.
Cloten You have abused me.
`His meanest garment!'
Innogen Ay, I said so, sir.
If you will make't an action, call witness to't.
Cloten I will inform your father.
Innogen Your mother too.
She's my good lady, and will conceive, I hope,
But the worst of me. So I leave you, sir,
To the worst of discontent.
[Exit.
Cloten I'll be revenged.
`His meanest garment!' -well!
[Exit.
+ + + + + +
Scene 4. Rome. Philario's House.
Enter POSTHUMUS and PHILARIO.
Posthumus Fear it not, sir. I would I were so sure
To win the king as I am bold her honour
Will remain hers.
Philario What means do you make to him?
Posthumus Not any; but abide the change of time,
Quake in the present winter's state, and wish
That warmer days would come. In these feared hopes
I barely gratify your love; they failing,
I must die much your debtor.
Philario Your very goodness and your company
O'erpays all I can do. By this, your king
Hath heard of great Augustus. Caius Lucius
Will do's commission throughly; and I think
He'll grant the tribute, send th' arrearages,
Or look upon our Romans, whose remembrance
Is yet fresh in their grief.
Posthumus I do believe,
Statist though I am none, nor like to be,
That this will prove a war; and you shall hear
The legions now in Gallia sooner landed
In our not-fearing Britain than have tidings
Of any penny tribute paid. Our countrymen
Are men more ordered than when Julius Caesar
Smiled at their lack of skill, but found their courage
Worthy his frowning at. Their discipline,
Now mingled with their courage, will make known
To their approvers they are people such
That mend upon the world.
Enter IACHIMO.
Philario See, Iachimo!
Posthumus The swiftest harts have posted you by land,
And winds of all the corners kissed your sails,
To make your vessel nimble.
Philario Welcome, sir.
Posthumus I hope the briefness of your answer made
The speediness of your return.
Iachimo Your lady
Is one of the fairest that I have looked upon.
Posthumus And therewithal the best, or let her beauty
Look through a casement to allure false hearts,
And be false with them.
Iachimo Here are letters for you.
Posthumus Their tenor good, I trust.
Iachimo 'Tis very like.
Philario Was Caius Lucius in the Britain court
When you were there?
Iachimo He was expected then,
But not approached.
Posthumus All is well yet.
Sparkles this stone as it was wont, or is't not
Too dull for your good wearing?
Iachimo If I have lost it
I should have lost the worth of it in gold.
I'll make a journey twice as far t' enjoy
A second night of such sweet shortness which
Was mine in Britain; for the ring is won.
Posthumus The stone's too hard to come by.
Iachimo Not a whit,
Your lady being so easy.
Posthumus Make not, sir,
Your loss your sport. I hope you know that we
Must not continue friends.
Iachimo Good sir, we must,
If you keep covenant. Had I not brought
The knowledge of your mistress home, I grant
We were to question further; but I now
Profess myself the winner of her honour,
Together with your ring, and not the wronger
Of her or you, having proceeded but
By both your wills.
Posthumus If you can make't apparent
That you have tasted her in bed, my hand
And ring is yours; if not, the foul opinion
You had of her pure honour gains or loses
Your sword or mine, or masterless leaves both
To who shall find them.
Iachimo Sir, my circumstances
Being so near the truth, as I will make them,
Must first induce you to believe; whose strength
I will confirm with oath, which, I doubt not,
You'll give me leave to spare when you shall find
You need it not.
Posthumus Proceed.
Iachimo First, her bedchamber -
Where I confess I slept not, but profess
Had that was well worth watching -it was hanged
With tapestry of silk and silver, the story:
Proud Cleopatra when she met her Roman,
And Cydnus swelled above the banks, or for
The press of boats, or pride. A piece of work
So bravely done, so rich, that it did strive
In workmanship and value, which I wondered
Could be so rarely and exactly wrought,
Since the true life on't was -
Posthumus This is true;
And this you might have heard of here, by me,
Or by some other.
Iachimo More particulars
Must justify my knowledge.
Posthumus So they must,
Or do your honour injury.
Iachimo The chimney
Is south the chamber, and the chimney-piece,
Chaste Dian bathing. Never saw I figures
So likely to report themselves. The cutter
Was as another Nature, dumb; outwent her,
Motion and breath left out.
Posthumus This is a thing
Which you might from relation likewise reap,
Being, as it is, much spoke of.
Iachimo The roof o'th' chamber
With golden cherubins is fretted; her andirons -
I had forgot them -were two winking Cupids
Of silver, each on one foot standing, nicely
Depending on their brands.
Posthumus This is her honour!
Let it be granted you have seen all this -and praise
Be given to your remembrance -the description
Of what is in her chamber nothing saves
The wager you have laid.
Iachimo Then, if you can,
Be pale; I beg but leave to air this jewel; see!
[Showing the bracelet.
And now 'tis up again, it must be married
To that your diamond; I'll keep them.
Posthumus Jove!
Once more let me behold it -is it that
Which I left with her?
Iachimo Sir -I thank her -that.
She stripped it from her arm; I see her yet:
Her pretty action did outsell her gift,
And yet enriched it too. She gave it me,
And said she prized it once.
Posthumus Maybe she plucked it off
To send it me.
Iachimo She writes so to you, doth she?
Posthumus O, no, no, no! 'Tis true! Here, take this too.
[Gives the ring.
It is a basilisk unto mine eye,
Kills me to look on't. Let there be no honour
Where there is beauty, truth where semblance, love
Where there's another man. The vows of women
Of no more bondage be to where they are made
Than they are to their virtues, which is nothing.
O, above measure false!
Philario Have patience, sir,
And take your ring again; 'tis not yet won.
It may be probable she lost it; or
Who knows if one of her women, being corrupted,
Hath stol'n it from her.
Posthumus Very true,
And so, I hope, he came by't. Back my ring;
Render to me some corporal sign about her
More evident than this; for this was stol'n.
Iachimo By Jupiter, I had it from her arm.
Posthumus Hark you, he swears; by Jupiter he swears.
'Tis true; nay, keep the ring; 'tis true. I am sure
She would not lose it. Her attendants are
All sworn and honourable -they induced to steal it?
And by a stranger? No, he hath enjoyed her;
The cognizance of her incontinency
Is this: she hath bought the name of whore thus dearly.
There, take thy hire, and all the fiends of hell
Divide themselves between you!
Philario Sir, be patient;
This is not strong enough to be believed
Of one persuaded well of.
Posthumus Never talk on't;
She hath been colted by him.
Iachimo If you seek
For further satisfying: under her breast -
Worthy her pressing -lies a mole, right proud
Of that most delicate lodging. By my life,
I kissed it, and it gave me present hunger
To feed again, though full. You do remember
This stain upon her?
Posthumus Ay, and it doth confirm
Another stain, as big as hell can hold
Were there no more but it.
Iachimo Will you hear more?
Posthumus Spare your arithmetic, never count the turns.
Once, and a million!
Iachimo I'll be sworn -
Posthumus No swearing.
If you will swear you have not done't, you lie;
And I will kill thee if thou dost deny
Thou'st made me cuckold.
Iachimo I'll deny nothing.
Posthumus O that I had her here, to tear her limb-meal!
I will go there and do't i'the court before
Her father. I'll do something -
[Exit.
Philario Quite besides
The government of patience! You have won.
Let's follow him, and pervert the present wrath
He hath against himself.
Iachimo With all my heart.
[Exeunt.
+ + + + + +
Scene 5. Rome. Another Room in Philario's House.
Enter POSTHUMUS.
Posthumus Is there no way for men to be but women
Must be half-workers? We are all bastards,
And that most venerable man which I
Did call my father was I know not where
When I was stamped; some coiner with his tools
Made me a counterfeit. Yet my mother seemed
The Dian of that time; so doth my wife
The nonpareil of this. O, vengeance, vengeance!
Me of my lawful pleasure she restrained,
And prayed me oft forbearance -did it with
A pudency so rosy the sweet view on't
Might well have warmed old Saturn -that I thought her
As chaste as unsunned snow. O, all the devils!
This yellow Iachimo, in an hour, was't not? -
Or less -at first? Perchance he spoke not, but,
Like a full-acorned boar, a German one,
Cried `O!' and mounted; found no opposition
But what he looked for should oppose and she
Should from encounter guard. Could I find out
The woman's part in me -for there 's no motion
That tends to vice in man but I affirm
It is the woman's part; be it lying, note it,
The woman's; flattering, hers; deceiving, hers;
Lust and rank thoughts, hers, hers; revenges, hers;
Ambitions, covetings, change of prides, disdain,
Nice longing, slanders, mutability,
All faults that may be named, nay, that hell knows,
Why, hers, in part or all; but rather all.
For even to vice
They are not constant, but are changing still
One vice but of a minute old for one
Not half so old as that. I'll write against them,
Detest them, curse them; yet 'tis greater skill
In a true hate to pray they have their will.
The very devils cannot plague them better.
[Exit.
+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++
ACT 3.
Scene 1. Britain. A Room of State in Cymbeline's Palace.
Enter in state, CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, and LORDS, at one door,
and at another, CAIUS LUCIUS and ATTENDANTS.
Cymbeline Now say, what would Augustus Caesar with us?
Lucius When Julius Caesar -whose remembrance yet
Lives in men's eyes, and will to ears and tongues
Be theme and hearing ever -was in this Britain,
And conquered it, Cassibelan, thine uncle -
Famous in Caesar's praises no whit less
Than in his feats deserving it -for him
And his succession granted Rome a tribute,
Yearly three thousand pounds, which by thee lately
Is left untendered.
Queen And, to kill the marvel,
Shall be so ever.
Cloten There be many Caesars
Ere such another Julius. Britain is
A world by itself, and we will nothing pay
For wearing our own noses.
Queen That opportunity,
Which then they had to take from's, to resume
We have again. Remember, sir my liege,
The kings your ancestors, together with
The natural bravery of your isle, which stands
As Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in
With rocks unscaleable and roaring waters,
With sands that will not bear your enemies' boats,
But suck them up to th' topmast. A kind of conquest
Caesar made here, but made not here his brag
Of `Came, and saw, and overcame'. with shame -
The first that ever touched him -he was carried
From off our coast, twice beaten; and his shipping -
Poor ignorant baubles! -on our terrible seas,
Like egg-shells moved upon their surges, cracked
As easily 'gainst our rocks; for joy whereof
The famed Cassibelan, who was once at point -
O giglot fortune! -to master Caesar's sword,
Made Lud's Town with rejoicing fires bright,
And Britons strut with courage.
Cloten Come, there's no more tribute to be paid. Our kingdom is stronger
than it was at that time, and, as I said, there is no more such Caesars. Other
of them may have crooked noses, but to owe such straight arms, none.
Cymbeline Son, let your mother end.
Cloten We have yet many among us can gripe as hard as Cassibelan. I do not
say I am one, but I have a hand. Why tribute? Why should we pay tribute? If
Caesar can hide the sun from us with a blanket, or put the moon in his pocket,
we will pay him tribute for light; else, sir, no more tribute, pray you now.
Cymbeline You must know,
Till the injurious Romans did extort
This tribute from us, we were free. Caesar's ambition,
Which swelled so much that it did almost stretch
The sides o'th' world, against all colour here
Did put the yoke upon's, which to shake off
Becomes a warlike people, whom we reckon
Ourselves to be.
Cloten We do.
Cymbeline Say then to Caesar,
Our ancestor was that Mulmutius which
Ordained our laws, whose use the sword of Caesar
Hath too much mangled, whose repair and franchise
Shall, by the power we hold, be our good deed,
Though Rome be therefore angry. Mulmutius made our laws,
Who was the first of Britain which did put
His brows within a golden crown, and called
Himself a king.
Lucius I am sorry, Cymbeline,
That I am to pronounce Augustus Caesar -
Caesar, that hath more kings his servants than
Thyself domestic officers -thine enemy.
Receive it from me, then. War and confusion
In Caesar's name pronounce I 'gainst thee; look
For fury not to be resisted. Thus defied,
I thank thee for myself.
Cymbeline Thou art welcome, Caius.
Thy Caesar knighted me; my youth I spent
Much under him; of him I gathered honour,
Which he to seek of me again, perforce,
Behoves me keep at utterance. I am perfect
That the Pannonians and Dalmatians for
Their liberties are now in arms; a precedent
Which not to read would show the Britons cold.
So Caesar shall not find them.
Lucius Let proof speak.
Cloten His majesty bids you welcome. Make pastime with us a day or two, or
longer. If you seek us afterwards in other terms, you shall find us in our
saltwater girdle. If you beat us out of it, it is yours; if you fall in the
adventure, our crows shall fare the better for you; and there's an end.
Lucius So, sir.
Cymbeline I know your master's pleasure, and he mine.
All the remain is `Welcome'.
[Exeunt.
+ + + + + +
Scene 2. Another Room in the Palace.
Enter PISANIO, with a letter.
Pisanio How? Of adultery? Wherefore write you not
What monsters her accuse? Leonatus!
O master, what a strange infection
Is fall'n into thy ear? What false Italian,
As poisonous-tongued as handed -hath prevailed
On thy too ready hearing? Disloyal? No!
She's punished for her truth, and undergoes
More goddess-like than wife-like such assaults
As would take in some virtue. O my master,
Thy mind to her is now as low as were
Thy fortunes. How? -that I should murder her?
Upon the love, and truth, and vows, which I
Have made to thy command? I, her? Her blood?
If it be so to do good service, never
Let me be counted serviceable. How look I,
That I should seem to lack humanity
So much as this fact comes to?
[Reads.] "Do't. The letter
That I have sent her, by her own command
Shall give thee opportunity."
O damned paper,
Black as the ink that's on thee! Senseless bauble,
Art thou a fedary for this act, and look'st
So virgin-like without?
Enter INNOGEN.
Lo, here she comes.
I am ignorant in what I am commanded.
Innogen How now, Pisanio!
Pisanio Madam, here is a letter from my lord.
Innogen Who? Thy lord? -that is my Lord Leonatus?
O learned indeed were that astronomer
That knew the stars as I his characters;
He'd lay the future open. You good gods,
Let what is here contained relish of love,
Of my lord's health, of his content, yet not
That we two are asunder; let that grieve him.
Some griefs are med'cinable; that is one of them,
For it doth physic love: of his content,
All but in that. Good wax, thy leave. Blest be
You bees that make these locks of counsel! Lovers
And men in dangerous bonds pray not alike;
Though forfeiters you cast in prison, yet
You clasp young Cupid's tables. Good news, gods!
[Reads.] "Justice, and your father's wrath, should he take me in his
dominion, could not be so cruel to me, as you, O the dearest of creatures,
would even renew me with your eyes. Take notice that I am in Cambria, at
Milford Haven. What your own love will out of this advise you, follow. So he
wishes you all happiness that remains loyal to his vow, and your increasing in
love,
LEONATUS POSTHUMUS."
O, for a horse with wings! Hear'st thou, Pisanio?
He is at Milford Haven. Read, and tell me
How far 'tis thither. If one of mean affairs
May plod it in a week, why may not I
Glide thither in a day? Then, true Pisanio, -
Who long'st like me to see thy lord, who long'st -
O, let me 'bate! -but not like me, yet long'st
But in a fainter kind -O, not like me;
For mine's beyond beyond -say, and speak thick -
Love's counsellor should fill the bores of hearing
To th' smothering of the sense -how far it is
To this same blessed Milford. And by th' way
Tell me how Wales was made so happy as
T' inherit such a haven. But first of all,
How we may steal from hence; and for the gap
That we shall make in time from our hence-going
And our return, to excuse. But first, how get hence.
Why should excuse be born or ere begot?
We'll talk of that hereafter. Prithee speak,
How many score of miles may we well ride
'Twixt hour and hour?
Pisanio One score 'twixt sun and sun,
Madam, 's enough for you; and too much too.
Innogen Why, one that rode to's execution, man,
Could never go so slow. I have heard of riding wagers
Where horses have been nimbler than the sands
That run i'th' clock's behalf. But this is foolery.
Go bid my woman feign a sickness, say
She'll home to her father; and provide me presently
A riding-suit, no costlier than would fit
A franklin's housewife.
Pisanio Madam, you're best consider.
Innogen I see before me, man; nor here, nor here,
Nor what ensues, but have a fog in them
That I cannot look through. Away, I prithee;
Do as I bid thee. There's no more to say.
Accessible is none but Milford way.
[Exeunt.
+ + + + + +
Scene 3. Wales. Mountainous Country; before the Cave of Belarius.
Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGUS.
Belarius A goodly day not to keep house with such
Whose roof's as low as ours. Stoop, boys; this gate
Instructs you how t' adore the heavens, and bows you
To a morning's holy office. The gates of monarchs
Are arched so high that giants may jet through
And keep their impious turbans on without
Good morrow to the sun. Hail, thou fair heaven!
We house i'th' rock, yet use thee not so hardly
As prouder livers do.
Guiderius Hail, heaven!
Arviragus Hail, heaven!
Belarius Now for our mountain sport. Up to yond hill!
Your legs are young; I'll tread these flats. Consider,
When you above perceive me like a crow,
That it is place which lessens and sets off;
And you may then revolve what tales I have told you
Of courts, of princes, of the tricks in war.
This service is not service, so being done,
But being so allowed. To apprehend thus,
Draws us a profit from all things we see;
And often to our comfort shall we find
The sharded beetle in a safer hold
Than is the full-winged eagle. O, this life
Is nobler than attending for a check,
Richer than doing nothing for a robe,
Prouder than rustling in unpaid-for silk.
Such gain the cap of him that makes him fine,
Yet keeps his book uncrossed. No life to ours!
Guiderius Out of your proof you speak. We poor unfledged
Have never winged from view o'th' nest, nor know not
What air's from home. Haply this life is best,
If quiet life be best, sweeter to you
That have a sharper known, well corresponding
With your stiff age; but unto us it is
A cell of ignorance, travelling abed,
A prison for a debtor that not dares
To stride a limit.
Arviragus What should we speak of
When we are old as you? When we shall hear
The rain and wind beat dark December, how
In this our pinching cave shall we discourse
The freezing hours away? We have seen nothing;
We are beastly; subtle as the fox for prey,
Like warlike as the wolf for what we eat.
Our valour is to chase what flies; our cage
We make a choir, as doth the prisoned bird,
And sing our bondage freely.
Belarius How you speak!
Did you but know the city's usuries,
And felt them knowingly: the art o'th' court,
As hard to leave as keep, whose top to climb
Is certain falling, or so slipp'ry that
The fear's as bad as falling; the toil o'th' war,
A pain that only seems to seek out danger
I'th' name of fame and honour, which dies i'th' search,
And hath as oft a sland'rous epitaph
As record of fair act; nay, many times
Doth ill deserve by doing well; what's worse,
Must curtsy at the censure. O, boys, this story
The world may read in me. My body's marked
With Roman swords, and my report was once
First with the best of note. Cymbeline loved me,
And when a soldier was the theme my name
Was not far off. Then was I as a tree
Whose boughs did bend with fruit; but in one night
A storm, or robbery -call it what you will -
Shook down my mellow hangings, nay, my leaves,
And left me bare to weather.
Guiderius Uncertain favour!
Belarius My fault being nothing -as I have told you oft -
But that two villains, whose false oaths prevailed
Before my perfect honour, swore to Cymbeline
I was confederate with the Romans. So
Followed my banishment, and this twenty years
This rock and these demesnes have been my world,
Where I have lived at honest freedom, paid
More pious debts to heaven than in all
The fore-end of my time. But, up to th' mountains!
This is not hunters' language. He that strikes
The venison first shall be the lord o'th' feast,
To him the other two shall minister,
And we will fear no poison, which attends
In place of greater state. I'll meet you in the valleys.
[Exeunt GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGUS.
How hard it is to hide the sparks of nature!
These boys know little they are sons to th' king,
Nor Cymbeline dreams that they are alive.
They think they are mine; and though trained up thus meanly
I'th' cave wherein they bow, their thoughts do hit
The roofs of palaces, and nature prompts them
In simple and low things to prince it much
Beyond the trick of others. This Polydore -
The heir of Cymbeline and Britain, who
The king his father called Guiderius -Jove!
When on my three-foot stool I sit and tell
The warlike feats I have done, his spirits fly out
Into my story. Say `Thus mine enemy fell,
And thus I set my foot on's neck', even then
The princely blood flows in his cheek, he sweats,
Strains his young nerves, and puts himself in posture
That acts my words. The younger brother, Cadwal,
Once Arviragus, in as like a figure
Strikes life into my speech, and shows much more
His own conceiving.
[Horns.
Hark, the game is roused!
O Cymbeline, heaven and my conscience knows
Thou didst unjustly banish me; whereon,
At three and two years old, I stole these babes,
Thinking to bar thee of succession as
Thou refts me of my lands. Euriphile,
Thou wast their nurse, they took thee for their mother,
And every day do honour to her grave.
Myself, Belarius, that am Morgan called,
They take for natural father. -The game is up.
[Exit.
+ + + + + +
Scene 4. 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 cursed 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.
+ + + + + +
Scene 5. Britain. A Room in Cymbeline's Palace.
Enter CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, LUCIUS, and LORDS.
Cymbeline Thus far, and so farewell.
Lucius Thanks, royal sir.
My emperor hath wrote, I must from hence,
And am right sorry that I must report ye
My master's enemy.
Cymbeline Our subjects, sir,
Will not endure his yoke; and for ourself
To show less sovereignty than they must needs
Appear unkinglike.
Lucius So, sir, I desire of you
A conduct over land to Milford Haven.
Madam, all joy befall your grace, [To CLOTEN.] and you!
Cymbeline My lords, you are appointed for that office;
The due of honour in no point omit.
So farewell, noble Lucius.
Lucius Your hand, my lord.
Cloten Receive it friendly; but from this time forth
I wear it as your enemy.
Lucius Sir, the event
Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well.
Cymbeline Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords,
Till he have crossed the Severn. Happiness!
[Exeunt LUCIUS and some LORDS.
Queen He goes hence frowning; but it honours us
That we have given him cause.
Cloten 'Tis all the better;
Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it.
Cymbeline Lucius hath wrote already to the emperor
How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely
Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness.
The powers that he already hath in Gallia
Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves
His war for Britain.
Queen 'Tis not sleepy business,
But must be looked to speedily, and strongly.
Cymbeline Our expectation that it would be thus
Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen,
Where is our daughter? She hath not appeared
Before the Roman, nor to us hath tendered
The duty of the day. She looks us like
A thing more made of malice than of duty;
We have noted it. Call her before us, for
We have been too slight in sufferance.
[Exit a LORD.
Queen Royal sir,
Since the exile of Posthumus, most retired
Hath her life been; the cure whereof, my lord,
'Tis time must do. Beseech your majesty,
Forbear sharp speeches to her; she's a lady
So tender of rebukes that words are strokes,
And strokes death to her.
Re-enter LORD.
Cymbeline Where is she, sir? How
Can her contempt be answered?
Lord Please you, sir,
Her chambers are all locked, and there's no answer
That will be given to th' loud of noise we make.
Queen My lord, when last I went to visit her
She prayed me to excuse her keeping close,
Whereto constrained by her infirmity,
She should that duty leave unpaid to you,
Which daily she was bound to proffer. This
She wished me to make known; but our great court
Made me to blame in memory.
Cymbeline Her doors locked?
Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that which I fear
Prove false!
[Exit.
Queen Son, I say, follow the king.
Cloten That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant,
I have not seen these two days.
Queen Go, look after.
[Exit CLOTEN.
Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus!
He hath a drug of mine; I pray his absence
Proceed by swallowing that, for he believes
It is a thing most precious. But for her,
Where is she gone? Haply despair hath seized her,
Or, winged with fervour of her love, she's flown
To her desired Posthumus. Gone she is
To death, or to dishonour, and my end
Can make good use of either. She being down,
I have the placing of the British crown.
Re-enter CLOTEN
How now, my son?
Cloten 'Tis certain she is fled.
Go in and cheer the king. He rages, none
Dare come about him.
Queen All the better. May
This night forestall him of the coming day!
[Exit.
Cloten I love and hate her; for she's fair and royal,
And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite
Than lady, ladies, woman, from every one
The best she hath, and she, of all compounded,
Outsells them all. I love her therefore; but
Disdaining me, and throwing favours on
The low Posthumus, slanders so her judgement
That what's else rare is choked. And in that point
I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed,
To be revenged upon her. For when fools
Shall -
Enter PISANIO.
Who is here? What, are you packing, sirrah?
Come hither; ah, you precious pandar! Villain,
Where is thy lady? In a word, or else
Thou art straightway with the fiends.
Pisanio O, good my lord!
Cloten Where is thy lady? Or, by Jupiter,
I will not ask again. Close villain,
I'll have this secret from thy heart, or rip
Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus?
From whose so many weights of baseness cannot
A dram of worth be drawn.
Pisanio Alas, my lord,
How can she be with him? When was she missed?
He is in Rome.
Cloten Where is she, sir? Come nearer.
No further halting. Satisfy me home
What is become of her?
Pisanio O, my all-worthy lord!
Cloten All-worthy villain!
Discover where thy mistress is at once,
At the next word. No more of `worthy lord'.
Speak, or thy silence on the instant is
Thy condemnation and thy death.
Pisanio Then, sir,
This paper is the history of my knowledge
Touching her flight.
[Presenting a letter.
Cloten Let's see't. I will pursue her
Even to Augustus' throne.
Pisanio [Aside.] Or this or perish.
She's far enough; and what he learns by this
May prove his travel, not her danger.
Cloten Hum!
Pisanio [Aside.] I'll write to my lord she's dead. O Innogen,
Safe mayst thou wander, safe return again!
Cloten Sirrah, is this letter true?
Pisanio Sir, as I think.
Cloten It is Posthumus' hand, I know't. Sirrah, if thou wouldst not be a
villain, but do me true service, undergo those employments wherein I should
have cause to use thee with a serious industry, that is, what villainy soe'er
I bid thee do, to perform it directly and truly I would think thee an honest
man. Thou shouldst neither want my means for thy relief, nor my voice for thy
preferment.
Pisanio Well, my good lord.
Cloten Wilt thou serve me? For since patiently and constantly thou hast
stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar Posthumus, thou canst not, in the
course of gratitude, but be a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou serve me?
Pisanio Sir, I will.
Cloten Give me thy hand, here's my purse. Hast any of thy late master's
garments in thy possession?
Pisanio I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit he wore when he took
leave of my lady and mistress.
Cloten The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit hither. Let it be
thy first service; go.
Pisanio I shall, my lord.
[Exit.
Cloten Meet thee at Milford Haven! -I forgot to ask him one thing; I'll
remember't anon. Even there, thou villain Posthumus, will I kill thee. I would
these garments were come. She said upon a time -the bitterness of it I now
belch from my heart -that she held the very garment of Posthumus in more
respect than my noble and natural person, together with the adornment of my
qualities. With that suit upon my back will I ravish her -first kill him, and
in her eyes. There shall she see my valour, which will then be a torment to
her contempt. He on the ground, my speech of insultment ended on his dead
body, and when my lust hath dined -which, as I say, to vex her I will execute
in the clothes that she so praised -to the court I'll knock her back, foot her
home again. She hath despised me rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in my revenge.
Re-enter PISANIO, with the clothes.
Be those the garments?
Pisanio Ay, my noble lord.
Cloten How long is't since she went to Milford Haven?
Pisanio She can scarce be there yet.
Cloten Bring this apparel to my chamber; that is the second thing that I
have commanded thee. The third is that thou wilt be a voluntary mute to my
design. Be but duteous, and true preferment shall tender itself to thee. My
revenge is now at Milford; would I had wings to follow it! Come, and be true.
[Exit.
Pisanio Thou bidd'st me to my loss; for true to thee
Were to prove false, which I will never be,
To him that is most true. To Milford go,
And find not her whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow,
You heavenly blessings, on her! This fool's speed
Be crossed with slowness; labour be his meed!
[Exit.
+ + + + + +
Scene 6. Wales. Before the Cave of Belarius.
Enter INNOGEN, dressed in boy's clothes.
Innogen I see a man's life is a tedious one.
I have tired myself, and for two nights together
Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick
But that my resolution helps me. Milford,
When from the mountain-top Pisanio showed thee,
Thou wast within a ken. O Jove, I think
Foundations fly the wretched; such, I mean,
Where they should be relieved. Two beggars told me
I could not miss my way. Will poor folks lie,
That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis
A punishment or trial? Yes -no wonder,
When rich ones scarce tell true. To lapse in fullness
Is sorer than to lie for need; and falsehood
Is worse in kings than beggars. My dear lord,
Thou art one o'th' false ones. Now I think on thee,
My hunger's gone; but even before I was
At point to sink for food. But what is this?
Here is a path to't. 'Tis some savage hold;
I were best not call; I dare not call; yet famine,
Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant.
Plenty and peace breeds cowards, hardness ever
Of hardiness is mother. Ho! -who's here?
If anything that's civil, speak; if savage,
Take or lend. Ho! No answer? Then I'll enter.
Best draw my sword; and if mine enemy
But fear the sword like me, he'll scarcely look on't.
Such a foe, good heavens!
[Exit into the cave.
Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.
Belarius You, Polydore, have proved best woodman, and
Are master of the feast. Cadwal and I
Will play the cook and servant; 'tis our match.
The sweat and industry would dry and die
But for the end it works to. Come, our stomachs
Will make what's homely savoury. Weariness
Can snore upon the flint when restive sloth
Finds the down pillow hard. Now, peace be here,
Poor house, that keep'st thyself!
Guiderius I am throughly weary.
Arviragus I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite.
Guiderius There is cold meat i'th' cave; we'll browse on that
Whilst what we have killed be cooked.
Belarius [Looking into the cave.] Stay, come not in!
But that it eats our victuals I should think
Here were a fairy.
Guiderius What's the matter, sir?
Belarius By Jupiter, an angel; or, if not,
An earthly paragon. Behold divineness
No elder than a boy!
Re-enter INNOGEN, from the cave.
Innogen Good masters, harm me not.
Before I entered here I called, and thought
To have begged, or bought, what I have took. Good troth,
I have stol'n naught, nor would not, though I had found
Gold strewed i'th' floor. Here's money for my meat;
I would have left it on the board so soon
As I had made my meal, and parted
With prayers for the provider.
Guiderius Money, youth?
Arviragus All gold and silver rather turn to dirt,
As 'tis no better reckoned but of those
Who worship dirty gods.
Innogen I see you're angry.
Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should
Have died had I not made it.
Belarius Whither bound?
Innogen To Milford Haven.
Belarius What's your name?
Innogen Fidele, sir. I have a kinsman who
Is bound for Italy; he embarked at Milford;
To whom being going, almost spent with hunger,
I am fall'n in this offence.
Belarius Prithee, fair youth,
Think us no churls, nor measure our good minds
By this rude place we live in. Well encountered!
'Tis almost night; you shall have better cheer
Ere you depart, and thanks to stay and eat it.
Boys, bid him welcome.
Guiderius Were you a woman, youth,
I should woo hard, but be your groom. In honesty
I bid for you as I do buy.
Arviragus I'll make't my comfort
He is a man, I'll love him as my brother;
And such a welcome as I'd give to him
After long absence, such is yours. Most welcome!
Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst friends.
Innogen 'Mongst friends,
If brothers. [Aside.] Would it had been so that they
Had been my father's sons! Then had my prize
Been less, and so more equal ballasting
To thee, Posthumus.
Belarius He wrings at some distress.
Guiderius Would I could free't!
Arviragus Or I, whate'er it be,
What pain it cost, what danger. Gods!
Belarius Hark, boys.
[They whisper together.
Innogen [Aside.] Great men,
That had a court no bigger than this cave,
That did attend themselves, and had the virtue
Which their own conscience sealed them, laying by
That nothing-gift of differing multitudes,
Could not outpeer these twain. Pardon me, gods!
I'll change my sex to be companion with them,
Since Leonatus' false.
Belarius It shall be so.
Boys, we'll go dress our hunt. Fair youth, come in.
Discourse is heavy, fasting; when we have supped
We'll mannerly demand thee of thy story,
So far as thou wilt speak it.
Guiderius Pray, draw near.
Arviragus The night to th' owl and morn to th' lark less welcome.
Innogen Thanks, sir.
Arviragus I pray, draw near.
[Exeunt, into the cave.
+ + + + + +
Scene 7. Rome. A public Place.
Enter TWO SENATORS and TRIBUNES.
1st Senator This is the tenor of the emperor's writ:
That since the common men are now in action
'Gainst the Pannonians and Dalmatians,
And that the legions now in Gallia are
Full weak to undertake our wars against
The fall'n-off Britons, that we do incite
The gentry to this business. He creates
Lucius proconsul; and to you, the tribunes,
For this immediate levy, he commends
His absolute commission. Long live Caesar!
1st Tribune Is Lucius general of the forces?
2nd Senator Ay.
1st Tribune Remaining now in Gallia?
1st Senator With those legions
Which I have spoke of, whereunto your levy
Must be suppliant. The words of your commission
Will tie you to the numbers and the time
Of their dispatch.
1st Tribune We will discharge our duty.
[Exeunt.
+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++
ACT 4.
Scene 1. Wales. Near the Cave of Belarius.
Enter CLOTEN, dressed in the clothes of Posthumus.
Cloten I am near to th' place where they should meet, if Pisanio have
mapped it truly. How fit his garments serve me! Why should his mistress, who
was made by him that made the tailor, not be fit too? The rather -saving
reverence of the word -for 'tis said a woman's fitness comes by fits. Therein
I must play the workman. I dare speak it to myself, for it is not vainglory
for a man and his glass to confer in his own chamber; I mean, the lines of my
body are as well drawn as his, no less young, more strong, not beneath him in
fortunes, beyond him in the advantage of the time, above him in birth, alike
conversant in general services, and more remarkable in single oppositions. Yet
this imperceiverant thing loves him in my despite. What mortality is!
Posthumus, thy head, which now is growing upon thy shoulders, shall within
this hour be off, thy mistress enforced, thy garments cut to pieces before thy
face; and all this done, spurn her home to her father, who may haply be a
little angry for my so rough usage; but my mother, having power of his
testiness, shall turn all into my commendations. My horse is tied up safe.
Out, sword, and to a sore purpose! Fortune, put them into my hand! This is the
very description of their meeting-place; and the fellow dares not deceive me.
[Exit.
+ + + + + +
Scene 2. Wales. Before the Cave of Belarius.
Enter, from the cave, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, and INNOGEN.
Belarius [To INNOGEN.] You are not well. Remain here in the cave;
We'll come to you after hunting.
Arviragus [To INNOGEN.] Brother, stay here.
Are we not brothers?
Innogen So man and man should be;
But clay and clay differs in dignity,
Whose dust is both alike. I am very sick.
Guiderius Go you to hunting, I'll abide with him.
Innogen So sick I am not, yet I am not well;
But not so citizen a wanton as
To seem to die ere sick. So please you, leave me,
Stick to your journal course. The breach of custom
Is breach of all. I am ill, but your being by me
Cannot amend me. Society is no comfort
To one not sociable. I am not very sick,
Since I can reason of it. Pray you, trust me here;
I'll rob none but myself; and let me die,
Stealing so poorly.
Guiderius I love thee; I have spoke it
How much the quantity, the weight as much
As I do love my father.
Belarius What? How, how?
Arviragus If it be sin to say so, sir, I yoke me
In my good brother's fault. I know not why
I love this youth, and I have heard you say
Love's reason's without reason. The bier at door,
And a demand who is't shall die, I'd say
`My father, not this youth'.
Belarius [Aside.] O noble strain!
O worthiness of nature! Breed of greatness!
Cowards father cowards and base things sire base.
Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace.
I'm not their father, yet who this should be
Doth miracle itself, loved before me.
[To ALL.] 'Tis the ninth hour o' the morn.
Arviragus Brother, farewell.
Innogen I wish ye sport.
Arviragus You health. [To BELARIUS.] So please you, sir.
[ARVIRAGUS, GUIDERIUS, and BELARIUS talk apart.
Innogen [Aside.]
These are kind creatures. Gods, what lies I have heard!
Our courtiers say all's savage but at court.
Experience, O thou disprov'st report!
Th' imperious seas breed monsters; for the dish,
Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish.
I am sick still, heart-sick. Pisanio,
I'll now taste of thy drug.
[Swallowing the drug.
Guiderius I could not stir him.
He said he was gentle, but unfortunate;
Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest.
Arviragus Thus did he answer me; yet said hereafter
I might know more.
Belarius To th' field, to th' field!
[To INNOGEN.]
We'll leave you for this time. Go in and rest.
Arviragus We'll not be long away.
Belarius Pray be not sick,
For you must be our housewife.
Innogen Well or ill,
I am bound to you.
Belarius And shalt be ever.
[Exit INNOGEN into the cave.
This youth, howe'er distressed, appears he hath had
Good ancestors.
Arviragus How angel-like he sings!
Guiderius But his neat cookery! He cut our roots in characters,
And sauced our broths, as Juno had been sick
And he her dieter.
Arviragus Nobly he yokes
A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh
Was that it was for not being such a smile;
The smile mocking the sigh that it would fly
From so divine a temple to commix
With winds that sailors rail at.
Guiderius I do note
That grief and patience, rooted in him both,
Mingle their spurs together.
Arviragus Grow patience,
And let the stinking-elder, grief, untwine
His perishing root with the increasing vine.
Belarius It is great morning. Come, away! -Who's there?
Enter CLOTEN, dressed in the clothes of Posthumus.
Cloten I cannot find those runagates; that villain
Hath mocked me. I am faint.
Belarius `Those runagates?'
Means he not us? I partly know him; 'tis
Cloten, the son o'th' queen. I fear some ambush.
I saw him not these many years, and yet.
I know 'tis he. We are held as outlaws. Hence!
Guiderius He is but one. You and my brother search
What companies are near. Pray you, away;
Let me alone with him.
[Exeunt BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS.
Cloten Soft, what are you
That fly me thus? Some villain mountaineers?
I have heard of such. What slave art thou?
Guiderius A thing
More slavish did I ne'er than answering
A slave without a knock.
Cloten Thou art a robber,
A law-breaker, a villain. Yield thee, thief!
Guiderius To who? To thee? What art thou? Have not I
An arm as big as thine, a heart as big?
Thy words, I grant, are bigger, for I wear not
My dagger in my mouth. Say what thou art,
Why I should yield to thee.
Cloten Thou villain base,
Know'st me not by my clothes?
Guiderius No, nor thy tailor, rascal,
Who is thy grandfather; he made those clothes,
Which, as it seems, make thee.
Cloten Thou precious varlet,
My tailor made them not.
Guiderius Hence then, and thank
The man that gave them thee. Thou art some fool;
I am loath to beat thee.
Cloten Thou injurious thief,
Hear but my name and tremble.
Guiderius What's thy name?
Cloten Cloten, thou villain.
Guiderius Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name,
I cannot tremble at it were it Toad, or Adder, Spider,
'Twould move me sooner.
Cloten To thy further fear,
Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know
I am son to th' queen.
Guiderius I am sorry for't; not seeming
So worthy as thy birth.
Cloten Art not afeard?
Guiderius Those that I reverence, those I fear -the wise;
At fools I laugh, not fear them.
Cloten Die the death.
When I have slain thee with my proper hand
I'll follow those that even now fled hence,
And on the gates of Lud's Town set your heads.
Yield, rustic mountaineer!
[Exeunt fighting.
Re-enter BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS.
Belarius No companies abroad?
Arviragus None in the world. You did mistake him, sure.
Belarius I cannot tell. Long is it since I saw him,
But time hath nothing blurred those lines of favour
Which then he wore. The snatches in his voice
And burst of speaking, were as his. I am absolute
'Twas very Cloten.
Arviragus In this place we left them.
I wish my brother make good time with him,
You say he is so fell.
Belarius Being scarce made up,
I mean to man, he had not apprehension
Of roaring terrors; for defect of judgement
Is oft the cause of fear.
Re-enter GUIDERIUS with CLOTEN's head.
But see, thy brother.
Guiderius This Cloten was a fool, an empty purse,
There was no money in't. Not Hercules
Could have knocked out his brains, for he had none.
Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne
My head as I do his.
Belarius What hast thou done?
Guiderius I am perfect what: cut off one Cloten's head,
Son to the queen, after his own report,
Who called me traitor, mountaineer, and swore
With his own single hand he'd take us in,
Displace our heads where -thank the gods! -they grow,
And set them on Lud's Town.
Belarius We are all undone.
Guiderius Why, worthy father, what have we to lose
But that he swore to take, our lives? The law
Protects not us; then why should we be tender
To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us,
Play judge and executioner all himself,
For we do fear the law? What company
Discover you abroad?
Belarius No single soul
Can we set eye on; but in all safe reason
He must have some attendants. Though his honour
Was nothing but mutation, ay, and that
From one bad thing to worse, not frenzy, not
Absolute madness, could so far have raved
To bring him here alone. Although perhaps
It may be heard at court that such as we
Cave here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time
May make some stronger head, the which he hearing -
As it is like him -might break out and swear
He'd fetch us in; yet is't not probable
To come alone, either he so undertaking,
Or they so suffering. Then on good ground we fear,
If we do fear this body hath a tail
More perilous than the head.
Arviragus Let ordinance
Come as the gods foresay it. Howsoe'er,
My brother hath done well.
Belarius I had no mind
To hunt this day; the boy Fidele's sickness
Did make my way long forth.
Guiderius With his own sword,
Which he did wave against my throat, I have ta'en
His head from him. I'll throw't into the creek
Behind our rock, and let it to the sea
And tell the fishes he's the queen's son, Cloten.
That's all I reck.
[Exit.
Belarius I fear 'twill be revenged.
Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done't! Though valour
Becomes thee well enough.
Arviragus Would I had done't,
So the revenge alone pursued me. Polydore,
I love thee brotherly, but envy much
Thou hast robbed me of this deed. I would revenges,
That possible strength might meet, would seek us through
And put us to our answer.
Belarius Well, 'tis done.
We'll hunt no more today, nor seek for danger
Where there's no profit. I prithee, to our rock.
You and Fidele play the cooks; I'll stay
Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him
To dinner presently.
Arviragus Poor sick Fidele!
I'll willingly to him. To gain his colour
I'd let a parish of such Clotens' blood,
And praise myself for charity.
[Exit.
Belarius O thou goddess,
Thou divine Nature, thou thyself thou blazon'st
In these two princely boys! They are as gentle
As zephyrs blowing below the violet,
Not wagging his sweet head; and yet as rough,
Their royal blood enchafed, as the rud'st wind
That by the top doth take the mountain pine
And make him stoop to th' vale. 'Tis wonder
That an invisible instinct should frame them
To royalty unlearned, honour untaught,
Civility not seen from other, valour
That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop
As if it had been sowed. Yet still it's strange
What Cloten's being here to us portends,
Or what his death will bring us.
Re-enter GUIDERIUS.
Guiderius Where's my brother?
I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream,
In embassy to his mother; his body's hostage
For his return.
[Solemn music.
Belarius My ingenious instrument;
Hark, Polydore, it sounds! But what occasion
Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark!
Guiderius Is he at home?
Belarius He went hence even now.
Guiderius What does he mean? Since death of my dear'st mother
It did not speak before. All solemn things
Should answer solemn accidents. The matter?
Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys
Is jollity for apes and grief for boys.
Is Cadwal mad?
Re-enter ARVIRAGUS, with INNOGEN as dead, bearing her in his arms.
Belarius Look, here he comes,
And brings the dire occasion in his arms
Of what we blame him for.
Arviragus The bird is dead
That we have made so much on. I had rather
Have skipped from sixteen years of age to sixty,
To have turned my leaping-time into a crutch,
Than have seen this.
Guiderius O sweetest, fairest lily!
My brother wears thee not one half so well
As when thou grew'st thyself.
Belarius O melancholy,
Who ever yet could sound thy bottom, find
The ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish crare
Mightst easiliest harbour in? Thou blessed thing!
Jove knows what man thou mightst have made; but I,
Thou died'st a most rare boy, of melancholy.
How found you him?
Arviragus Stark, as you see;
Thus smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber,
Not as death's dart being laughed at; his right cheek
Reposing on a cushion.
Guiderius Where?
Arviragus O'th' floor,
His arms thus leagued. I thought he slept, and put
My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness
Answered my steps too loud.
Guiderius Why, he but sleeps.
If he be gone, he'll make his grave a bed;
With female fairies will his tomb be haunted,
And worms will not come to thee.
Arviragus With fairest flowers,
Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele,
I'll sweeten thy sad grave. Thou shalt not lack
The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose, nor
The azured harebell, like thy veins; no, nor
The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,
Outsweetened not thy breath. The ruddock would
With charitable bill -O bill, sore shaming
Those rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie
Without a monument! -bring thee all this,
Yea, and furred moss besides. When flowers are none,
To winter-ground thy corse -
Guiderius Prithee, have done,
And do not play in wench-like words with that
Which is so serious. Let us bury him,
And not protract with admiration what
Is now due debt. To th' grave.
Arviragus Say, where shall's lay him?
Guiderius By good Euriphile, our mother.
Arviragus Be't so;
And let us, Polydore, though now our voices
Have got the mannish crack, sing him to th' ground,
As once our mother; use like note and words,
Save that Euriphile must be Fidele.
Guiderius Cadwal,
I cannot sing. I'll weep, and word it with thee;
For notes of sorrow, out of tune, are worse
Than priests and fanes that lie.
Arviragus We'll speak it then.
Belarius Great griefs, I see, med'cine the less; for Cloten
Is quite forgot. He was a queen's son, boys,
And though he came our enemy, remember
He was paid for that. Though mean and mighty rotting
Together have one dust, yet reverence,
That angel of the world, doth make distinction
Of place 'tween high and low. Our foe was princely,
And though you took his life as being our foe,
Yet bury him as a prince.
Guiderius Pray you, fetch him hither;
Thersites' body is as good as Ajax',
When neither are alive.
Arviragus If you'll go fetch him,
We'll say our song the whilst. Brother, begin.
[Exit BELARIUS.
Guiderius Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to th' east;
My father hath a reason for't.
Arviragus 'Tis true.
Guiderius Come on then, and remove him.
Arviragus So. Begin.
SONG
Guiderius Fear no more the heat o'th' sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages.
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Arviragus Fear no more the frown o'th' great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat,
To thee the reed is as the oak.
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this and come to dust.
Guiderius Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Arviragus Nor th' all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Guiderius Fear not slander, censure rash,
Arviragus Thou hast finished joy and moan.
Both All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee and come to dust.
Guiderius No exorciser harm thee!
Arviragus Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Guiderius Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Arviragus Nothing ill come near thee!
Both Quiet consummation have,
And renowned be thy grave!
Re-enter BELARIUS with the headless body of Cloten.
Guiderius We have done our obsequies. Come, lay him down.
Belarius Here's a few flowers, but 'bout midnight more.
The herbs that have on them cold dew o'th' night
Are strewings fitt'st for graves. Upon their faces.
You were as flowers, now withered; even so
These herblets shall, which we upon you strew.
Come on, away, apart upon our knees.
The ground that gave them first has them again;
Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain.
[Exeunt BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.
Innogen [Awaking.] Yes, sir, to Milford Haven, which is the way?
I thank you. By yond bush? Pray, how far thither?
'Ods-pittikins, can it be six mile yet?
I have gone all night; faith, I'll lie down and sleep.
But soft, no bedfellow! O gods and goddesses!
[Seeing the body of Cloten.
These flowers are like the pleasures of the world;
This bloody man the care on't. I hope I dream;
For so I thought I was a cave-keeper,
And cook to honest creatures. But 'tis not so;
'Twas but a bolt of nothing shot at nothing,
Which the brain makes of fumes. Our very eyes
Are sometimes like our judgements, blind. Good faith,
I tremble still with fear; but if there be
Yet left in heaven as small a drop of pity
As a wren's eye, feared gods, a part of it!
The dream's here still. Even when I wake, it is
Without me as within me; not imagined, felt.
A headless man? The garments of Posthumus?
I know the shape of's leg; this is his hand;
His foot Mercurial; his Martial thigh,
The brawns of Hercules; but his Jovial face -
Murder in heaven! How? 'Tis gone. Pisanio,
All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks,
And mine to boot, be darted on thee! Thou,
Conspired with that irregulous devil, Cloten,
Hast here cut off my lord. To write and read
Be henceforth treacherous! Damned Pisanio
Hath with his forged letters -damned Pisanio -
From this most bravest vessel of the world
Struck the main-top. O Posthumus, alas,
Where is thy head? Where's that? Ay me, where's that?
Pisanio might have killed thee at the heart,
And left this head on. How should this be, Pisanio?
'Tis he and Cloten. Malice and lucre in them
Have laid this woe here. O 'tis pregnant, pregnant!
The drug he gave me, which he said was precious
And cordial to me, have I not found it
Murd'rous to th' senses? That confirms it home.
This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten. O,
Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood
That we the horrider may seem to those
Which chance to find us. O, my lord, my lord!
[Faints across the body.
Enter LUCIUS, A ROMAN CAPTAIN, other OFFICERS,
and A SOOTHSAYER, to them.
Captain The legions garrisoned in Gallia,
After your will, have crossed the sea, attending
You here at Milford Haven with your ships.
They are here in readiness.
Lucius But what from Rome?
Captain The senate hath stirred up the confiners
And gentlemen of Italy, most willing spirits
That promise noble service; and they come
Under the conduct of bold Iachimo,
Sienna's brother.
Lucius When expect you them?
Captain With the next benefit o'th' wind.
Lucius This forwardness
Makes our hopes fair. Command our present numbers
Be mustered. Bid the captains look to't. Now, sir,
What have you dreamed of late of this war's purpose?
Soothsayer Last night the very gods showed me a vision -
I fast and prayed for their intelligence -thus:
I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, winged
From the spongy south to this part of the west,
There vanished in the sunbeams, which portends -
Unless my sins abuse my divination -
Success to th' Roman host.
Lucius Dream often so,
And never false.
[Seeing the bodies.
Soft, ho! What trunk is here
Without his top? The ruin speaks that sometime
It was a worthy building. How? A page,
Or dead or sleeping on him? But dead rather;
For nature doth abhor to make his bed
With the defunct, or sleep upon the dead.
Let's see the boy's face.
Captain He's alive, my lord.
Lucius He'll then instruct us of this body. Young one,
Inform us of thy fortunes, for it seems
They crave to be demanded. Who is this
Thou mak'st thy bloody pillow? Or who was he
That, otherwise than noble nature did,
Hath altered that good picture? What's thy interest
In this sad wreck? How came't? Who is't?
What art thou?
Innogen I am nothing; or if not,
Nothing to be were better. This was my master,
A very valiant Briton and a good,
That here by mountaineers lies slain. Alas,
There is no more such masters. I may wander
From east to occident, cry out for service,
Try many, all good; serve truly; never
Find such another master.
Lucius 'Lack, good youth!
Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining than
Thy master in bleeding. Say his name, good friend.
Innogen Richard du Champ. [Aside.] If I do lie and do
No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope
They'll pardon it.
[To LUCIUS.] Say you, sir?
Lucius Thy name?
Innogen Fidele, sir.
Lucius Thou dost approve thyself the very same;
Thy name well fits thy faith, thy faith thy name.
Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not say
Thou shalt be so well mastered, but, be sure,
No less beloved. The Roman emperor's letters
Sent by a consul to me should not sooner
Than thine own worth prefer thee. Go with me.
Innogen I'll follow, sir. But first, an't please the gods,
I'll hide my master from the flies as deep
As these poor pickaxes can dig; and when
With wild wood-leaves and weeds I ha' strewed his grave,
And on it said a century of prayers,
Such as I can, twice o'er, I'll weep and sigh;
And leaving so his service, follow you,
So please you entertain me.
Lucius Ay, good youth;
And rather father thee than master thee.
My friends,
The boy hath taught us manly duties; let us
Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can,
And make him with our pikes and partisans
A grave. Come, arm him. Boy, he is preferred
By thee to us, and he shall be interred
As soldiers can. Be cheerful, wipe thine eyes;
Some falls are means the happier to arise.
[Exeunt.
+ + + + + +
Scene 3. Britain. A Room in Cymbeline's Palace.
Enter CYMBELINE, LORDS, PISANIO, and ATTENDANTS.
Cymbeline Again. And bring me word how 'tis with her.
[Exit an ATTENDANT.
A fever with the absence of her son;
A madness of which her life's in danger. Heavens,
How deeply you at once do touch me! Innogen,
The great part of my comfort, gone; my queen
Upon a desperate bed, and in a time
When fearful wars point at me; her son gone,
So needful for this present; it strikes me past
The hope of comfort. But for thee, fellow,
Who needs must know of her departure and
Dost seem so ignorant, we'll enforce it from thee
By a sharp torture.
Pisanio Sir, my life is yours,
I humbly set it at your will; but, for my mistress,
I nothing know where she remains, why gone,
Nor when she purposes return. Beseech your highness,
Hold me your loyal servant.
1st Lord Good my liege,
The day that she was missing he was here.
I dare be bound he's true and shall perform
All parts of his subjection loyally. For Cloten,
There wants no diligence in seeking him,
And will no doubt be found.
Cymbeline The time is troublesome.
[To PISANIO.] We'll slip you for a season, but our jealousy
Does yet depend.
1st Lord So please your majesty,
The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn,
Are landed on your coast, with a supply
Of Roman gentlemen by the Senate sent.
Cymbeline Now for the counsel of my son and queen!
I am amazed with matter.
1st Lord Good my liege,
Your preparation can affront no less
Than what you hear of. Come more, for more you're ready.
The want is but to put those powers in motion
That long to move.
Cymbeline I thank you. Let's withdraw,
And meet the time as it seeks us. We fear not
What can from Italy annoy us, but
We grieve at chances here. Away!
[Exeunt all but PISANIO.
Pisanio I heard no letter from my master since
I wrote him Innogen was slain. 'Tis strange.
Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise
To yield me often tidings. Neither know I
What is betid to Cloten, but remain
Perplexed in all. The heavens still must work.
Wherein I am false, I am honest; not true, to be true.
These present wars shall find I love my country,
Even to the note o'th' king, or I'll fall in them.
All other doubts, by time let them be cleared.
Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered.
[Exit.
+ + + + + +
Scene 4. Wales. Before the Cave of Belarius.
Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.
Guiderius The noise is round about us.
Belarius Let us from it.
Arviragus What pleasure, sir, find we in life, to lock it
From action and adventure?
Guiderius Nay, what hope
Have we in hiding us? This way the Romans
Must or for Britons slay us or receive us
For barbarous and unnatural revolts
During their use, and slay us after.
Belarius Sons,
We'll higher to the mountains, there secure us.
To the king's party there's no going;
Newness of Cloten's death, we being not known, not mustered
Among the bands, may drive us to a render
Where we have lived, and so extort from's that
Which we have done, whose answer would be death
Drawn on with torture.
Guiderius This is, sir, a doubt
In such a time nothing becoming you
Nor satisfying us.
Arviragus It is not likely
That when they hear the Roman horses neigh,
Behold their quartered fires, have both their eyes
And ears so cloyed importantly as now,
That they will waste their time upon our note,
To know from whence we are.
Belarius O, I am known
Of many in the army. Many years,
Though Cloten then but young, you see not wore him
From my remembrance. And, besides, the king
Hath not deserved my service nor your loves,
Who find in my exile the want of breeding,
The certainty of this hard life; aye hopeless
To have the courtesy your cradle promised,
But to be still hot summer's tanlings, and
The shrinking slaves of winter.
Guiderius Than be so,
Better to cease to be. Pray, sir, to th' army.
I and my brother are not known; yourself
So out of thought, and thereto so o'ergrown,
Cannot be questioned.
Arviragus By this sun that shines
I'll thither. What thing is't that I never
Did see man die, scarce ever looked on blood
But that of coward hares, hot goats, and venison!
Never bestrid a horse save one that had
A rider like myself, who ne'er wore rowel
Nor iron on his heel! I am ashamed
To look upon the holy sun, to have
The benefit of his blest beams, remaining
So long a poor unknown.
Guiderius By heavens, I'll go,
If you will bless me, sir, and give me leave,
I'll take the better care; but if you will not,
The hazard therefore due fall on me by
The hands of the Romans!
Arviragus So say I, Amen.
Belarius No reason I, since of your lives you set
So slight a valuation, should reserve
My cracked one to more care. Have with you, boys!
If in your country wars you chance to die,
That is my bed too, lads, and there I'll lie.
Lead, lead.
[Aside.] The time seems long; their blood thinks scorn
Till it fly out and show them princes born.
[Exeunt.
+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++
ACT 5.
Scene 1. Britain. The Roman Camp.
Enter POSTHUMUS, with a bloody handkerchief.
Posthumus Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for I wished
Thou shouldst be coloured 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,
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 lived to put on this; so had you saved
The noble Innogen to repent, and struck
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.
But Innogen 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 killed thy mistress; peace,
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
For thee, O Innogen, even for whom my life
Is every breath a death. And thus unknown,
Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril
Myself I'll dedicate. Let me make men know
More valour in me than my habits show.
Gods, put the strength o'th' Leonati in me!
To shame the guise o'th' world, I will begin
The fashion -less without and more within.
[Exit.
+ + + + + +
Scene 2. A Field between the Camps.
Enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, and the ROMAN ARMY at one door,
and the BRITON ARMY at another,
LEONATUS POSTHUMUS following like a poor soldier.
They march over and go out.
Then enter again, in skirmish, IACHIMO and POSTHUMUS;
he vanquisheth and disarmeth IACHIMO, and then leaves him.
Iachimo The heaviness and guilt within my bosom
Takes off my manhood. I have belied a lady,
The princess of this country, and the air on't
Revengingly enfeebles me; or could this carl,
A very drudge of nature's, have subdued me
In my profession? Knighthoods and honours, borne
As I wear mine, are titles but of scorn.
If that thy gentry, Britain, go before
This lout as he exceeds our lords, the odds
Is that we scarce are men and you are gods.
[Exit.
The battle continues.
The BRITONS fly, CYMBELINE is taken.
Then enter to his rescue BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.
Belarius Stand, stand! We have th' advantage of the ground,
The lane is guarded. Nothing routs us but
The villainy of our fears.
Guiderius &
Arviragus Stand! Stand and fight!
Re-enter POSTHUMUS, and seconds the BRITONS.
They rescue CYMBELINE and exeunt.
Then re-enter LUCIUS and IACHIMO, with INNOGEN.
Lucius Away, boy, from the troops, and save thyself;
For friends kill friends, and the disorder's such
As war were hoodwinked.
Iachimo 'Tis their fresh supplies.
Lucius It is a day turned strangely. Or betimes
Let's reinforce, or fly.
[Exeunt.
+ + + + + +
Scene 3. Another Part of the Field.
Enter POSTHUMUS and a BRITON LORD.
Lord Cam'st thou from where they made the stand?
Posthumus I did,
Though you, it seems, come from the fliers.
Lord I did.
Posthumus No blame be to you, sir, for all was lost,
But that the heavens fought. The king himself
Of his wings destitute, the army broken,
And but the backs of Britons seen, all flying
Through a strait lane; the enemy full-hearted,
Lolling the tongue with slaught'ring, having work
More plentiful than tools to do't, struck down
Some mortally, some slightly touched, some falling
Merely through fear, that the strait pass was damned
With dead men hurt behind, and cowards living
To die with lengthened shame.
Lord Where was this lane?
Posthumus Close by the battle, ditched, and walled with turf,
Which gave advantage to an ancient soldier,
An honest one I warrant, who deserved
So long a breeding as his white beard came to,
In doing this for's country. Athwart the lane,
He, with two striplings -lads more like to run
The country base than to commit such slaughter,
With faces fit for masks, or rather fairer
Than those for preservation cased, or shame -
Made good the passage, cried to those that fled
"Our Britain's harts die flying, not our men.
To darkness fleet souls that fly backwards. Stand,
Or we are Romans, and will give you that
Like beasts which you shun beastly, and may save
But to look back in frown. Stand, stand!" These three,
Three thousand confident, in act as many -
For three performers are the file when all
The rest do nothing -with this word `Stand, stand',
Accommodated by the place, more charming
With their own nobleness, which could have turned
A distaff to a lance, gilded pale looks;
Part shame, part spirit renewed, that some turned coward
But by example -O, a sin in war
Damned in the first beginners! -'gan to look
The way that they did, and to grin like lions
Upon the pikes o'th' hunters. Then began
A stop i'th' chaser, a retire; anon
A rout, confusion thick. Forthwith they fly
Chickens, the way which they stooped eagles; slaves,
The strides they victors made. And now our cowards,
Like fragments in hard voyages, became
The life o'th' need; having found the back-door open
Of the unguarded hearts, heavens, how they wound!
Some slain before, some dying, some their friends
O'erborne i'th' former wave, ten chased by one,
Are now each one the slaughterman of twenty.
Those that would die or ere resist are grown
The mortal bugs o'th' field.
Lord This was strange chance:
A narrow lane, an old man, and two boys.
Posthumus Nay, do not wonder at it; you are made
Rather to wonder at the things you hear
Than to work any. Will you rhyme upon't,
And vent it for a mock'ry? Here is one:
Two boys, an old man twice a boy, a lane,
Preserved the Britons, was the Romans' bane.
Lord Nay, be not angry, sir.
Posthumus 'Lack, to what end?
Who dares not stand his foe, I'll be his friend;
For if he'll do as he is made to do,
I know he'll quickly fly my friendship too.
You have put me into rhyme.
Lord Farewell; you're angry.
[Exit.
Posthumus Still going? This is a lord! O noble misery,
To be i'th' field and ask `What news?' of me!
Today how many would have given their honours
To have saved their carcasses took heel to do't,
And yet died too! I, in mine own woe charmed,
Could not find death where I did hear him groan,
Nor feel him where he struck. Being an ugly monster,
'Tis strange he hides him in fresh cups, soft beds,
Sweet words; or hath more ministers than we
That draw his knives i'th' war. Well, I will find him;
For being now a favourer to the Briton,
No more a Briton, I have resumed again
The part I came in. Fight I will no more,
But yield me to the veriest hind that shall
Once touch my shoulder. Great the slaughter is
Here made by th' Roman; great the answer be
Britons must take. For me, my ransom's death;
On either side I come to spend my breath,
Which neither here I'll keep nor bear again,
But end it by some means for Innogen.
Enter 1st and 2nd BRITISH CAPTAINS, with SOLDIERS.
1st Captain Great Jupiter be praised, Lucius is taken.
'Tis thought the old man and his sons were angels.
2nd Captain There was a fourth man, in a silly habit,
That gave th' affront with them.
1st Captain So 'tis reported,
But none of 'em can be found. Stand! Who's there?
Posthumus A Roman,
Who had not now been drooping here if seconds
Had answered him.
2nd Captain Lay hands on him. A dog,
A leg of Rome, shall not return to tell
What crows have pecked them here. He brags his service
As if he were of note. Bring him to the king.
Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO,
and ROMAN CAPTIVES.
The CAPTAINS present POSTHUMUS to CYMBELINE,
who delivers him over to a GAOLER.
[Exeunt.
+ + + + + +
Scene 4. An open Place near the British Camp.
Enter POSTHUMUS and 1st and 2nd GAOLERS.
1st Gaoler [Chaining POSTHUMUS to a post.]
You shall not now be stol'n, you have locks upon you;
So graze, as you find pasture.
2nd Gaoler Ay, or a stomach.
[Exeunt GAOLERS.
Posthumus Most welcome, bondage, for thou art a way,
I think, to liberty. Yet am I better
Than one that's sick o'th' gout, since he had rather
Groan so in perpetuity than be cured
By th' sure physician Death, who is the key
To unbar these locks. My conscience, thou art fettered
More than my shanks and wrists. You good gods, give me
The penitent instrument to pick that bolt,
Then -free for ever! Is't enough I am sorry?
So children temporal fathers do appease;
Gods are more full of mercy. Must I repent,
I cannot do it better than in gyves,
Desired more than constrained. To satisfy,
If of my freedom 'tis the main part, take
No stricter render of me than my all.
I know you are more clement than vile men
Who of their broken debtors take a third,
A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again
On their abatement; that's not my desire.
For Innogen's dear life take mine, and though
'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coined it.
'Tween man and man they weigh not every stamp;
Though light, take pieces for the figure's sake;
You rather mine, being yours. And so, great powers,
If you will take this audit, take this life,
And cancel these cold bonds. O Innogen,
I'll speak to thee in silence.
[Sleeps.
Solemn music.
Enter, as in an apparition, SICILIUS LEONATUS, father to Posthumus,
an old man attired like a warrior, leading in his hand an ancient matron,
his wife, and MOTHER to Posthumus, with music before them.
Then, after other music, follow the two young Leonati,
BROTHERS to Posthumus, with wounds as they died in the wars.
They circle Posthumus round as he lies sleeping.
Sicilius No more, thou thunder-master, show
Thy spite on mortal flies;
With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,
That thy adulteries
Rates and revenges.
Hath my poor boy done aught but well,
Whose face I never saw?
I died whilst in the womb he stayed
Attending nature's law;
Whose father then -as men report
Thou orphans' father art -
Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him
From this earth-vexing smart.
Mother Lucina lent not me her aid,
But took me in my throes,
That from me was Posthumus ripped,
Came crying 'mongst his foes,
A thing of pity.
Sicilius Great nature like his ancestry
Moulded the stuff so fair
That he deserved the praise o'th' world
As great Sicilius' heir.
1st Brother When once he was mature for man,
In Britain where was he
That could stand up his parallel,
Or fruitful object be
In eye of Innogen, that best
Could deem his dignity?
Mother With marriage wherefore was he mocked,
To be exiled, and thrown
From Leonati seat, and cast
From her his dearest one,
Sweet Innogen?
Sicilius Why did you suffer Iachimo,
Slight thing of Italy,
To taint his nobler heart and brain
With needless jealousy,
And to become the geck and scorn
O'th' other's villainy?
2nd Brother For this from stiller seats we came,
Our parents and us twain
That striking in our country's cause
Fell bravely, and were slain:
Our fealty and Tenantius' right
With honour to maintain.
1st Brother Like hardiment Posthumus hath
To Cymbeline performed;
Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods,
Why hast thou thus adjourned
The graces for his merits due,
Being all to dolours turned?
Sicilius Thy crystal window ope; look out;
No longer exercise
Upon a valiant race thy harsh
And potent injuries.
Mother Since, Jupiter, our son is good,
Take off his miseries.
Sicilius Peep through thy marble mansion; help,
Or we poor ghosts will cry
To th' shining synod of the rest
Against thy deity.
Both Brothers Help, Jupiter, or we appeal,
And from thy justice fly.
JUPITER descends in thunder and lightning, sitting upon an eagle.
He throws a thunderbolt. The GHOSTS fall on their knees.
Jupiter No more, you petty spirits of region low,
Offend our hearing. Hush! How dare you ghosts
Accuse the thunderer whose bolt, you know,
Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts?
Poor shadows of Elysium, hence, and rest
Upon your never-withering banks of flowers.
Be not with mortal accidents opprest;
No care of yours it is, you know 'tis ours.
Whom best I love I cross, to make my gift,
The more delayed, delighted. Be content,
Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift;
His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent;
Our Jovial star reigned at his birth, and in
Our temple was he married. Rise, and fade.
He shall be lord of lady Innogen,
And happier much by his affliction made.
This tablet lay upon his breast, wherein
Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine.
[Gives a book.
And so away; no further with your din
Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.
Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline.
[Ascends.
Sicilius He came in thunder; his celestial breath
Was sulphurous to smell; the holy eagle
Stooped, as to foot us; his ascension is
More sweet than our blest fields; his royal bird
Prunes the immortal wing and cloys his beak,
As when his god is pleased.
All Thanks, Jupiter!
Sicilius The marble pavement closes, he is entered
His radiant roof. Away! And, to be blest,
Let us with care perform his great behest.
[The GHOSTS lay the book on Posthumus, and vanish.
Posthumus [Waking.] Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire and begot
A father to me; and thou hast created
A mother and two brothers. But, O scorn,
Gone! They went hence so soon as they were born;
And so I am awake. Poor wretches that depend
On greatness' favour dream as I have done,
Wake, and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve;
Many dream not to find, neither deserve,
And yet are steeped in favours; so am I,
That have this golden chance and know not why.
What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O rare one,
Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment
Nobler than that it covers. Let thy effects
So follow to be most unlike our courtiers,
As good as promise.
[Reads.] "When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown, without
seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of tender air; and when from a
stately cedar shall be lopped branches which, being dead many years, shall
after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then shall
Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate and flourish in peace and
plenty."
'Tis still a dream; or else such stuff as madmen
Tongue, and brain not; either both, or nothing,
Or senseless speaking, or a speaking such
As sense cannot untie. But what it is,
The action of my life is like it, which
I'll keep, if but for sympathy.
Re-enter GAOLERS.
1st Gaoler Come, sir, are you ready for death?
Posthumus Overroasted rather; ready long ago.
1st Gaoler Hanging is the word, sir; if you be ready for that, you are well
cooked.
Posthumus So, if I prove a good repast to the spectators, the dish pays the
shot.
1st Gaoler A heavy reckoning for you, sir. But the comfort is you shall be
called to no more payments, fear no more tavern bills, which are often the
sadness of parting, as the procuring of mirth: you come in faint for want of
meat, depart reeling with too much drink; sorry that you have paid too much,
and sorry that you are paid too much; purse and brain both empty; the brain
the heavier for being too light, the purse too light, being drawn of
heaviness: O, of this contradiction you shall now be quit. O, the charity of a
penny cord! It sums up thousands in a trice. You have no true debitor and
creditor but it -of what's past, is, and to come, the discharge. Your neck,
sir, is pen, book, and counters; so the acquittance follows.
Posthumus I am merrier to die than thou art to live.
1st Gaoler Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the toothache; but a man
that were to sleep your sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I think he
would change places with his officer; for look you, sir, you know not which
way you shall go.
Posthumus Yes indeed do I, fellow.
1st Gaoler Your death has eyes in's head, then. I have not seen him so
pictured. You must either be directed by some that take upon them to know, or
to take upon yourself that which I am sure you do not know, or jump the
after-inquiry on your own peril; and how you shall speed in your journey's
end, I think you'll never return to tell one.
Posthumus I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to direct them the
way I am going, but such as wink and will not use them.
1st Gaoler What an infinite mock is this, that a man should have the best
use of eyes to see the way of blindness! I am sure hanging's the way of winking.
Enter A MESSENGER.
Messenger Knock off his manacles, bring your prisoner to the king.
Posthumus Thou bring'st good news; I am called to be made free.
1st Gaoler I'll be hanged then.
Posthumus Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the dead.
[Exeunt all but 1st GAOLER.
1st Gaoler Unless a man would marry a gallows and beget young gibbets, I
never saw one so prone. Yet, on my conscience, there are verier knaves desire
to live, for all he be a Roman; and there be some of them too, that die
against their wills. So should I, if I were one. I would we were all of one
mind, and one mind good. O, there were desolation of gaolers and gallowses! I
speak against my present profit, but my wish hath a preferment in't.
[Exit.
+ + + + + +
Scene 5. Cymbeline's Tent.
Enter CYMBELINE, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, PISANIO,
LORDS, OFFICERS, and ATTENDANTS.
Cymbeline Stand by my side, you whom the gods have made
Preservers of my throne. Woe is my heart
That the poor soldier that so richly fought,
Whose rags shamed gilded arms, whose naked breast
Stepped before targes of proof, cannot be found.
He shall be happy that can find him, if
Our grace can make him so.
Belarius I never saw
Such noble fury in so poor a thing;
Such precious deeds in one that promised naught
But beggary and poor looks.
Cymbeline No tidings of him?
Pisanio He hath been searched among the dead and living,
But no trace of him.
Cymbeline To my grief, I am
The heir of his reward,
[To BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGUS.]
which I will add
To you, the liver, heart, and brain of Britain,
By whom I grant she lives. 'Tis now the time
To ask of whence you are. Report it.
Belarius Sir,
In Cambria are we born, and gentlemen.
Further to boast were neither true nor modest,
Unless I add we are honest.
Cymbeline Bow your knees.
[They kneel.
Arise my knights o'th' battle. I create you
Companions to our person, and will fit you
With dignities becoming your estates.
Enter CORNELIUS and LADIES.
There's business in these faces. Why so sadly
Greet you our victory? You look like Romans,
And not o'th' court of Britain.
Cornelius Hail, great king!
To sour your happiness I must report
The queen is dead.
Cymbeline Who worse than a physician
Would this report become? But I consider,
By med'cine life may be prolonged, yet death
Will seize the doctor too. How ended she?
Cornelius With horror, madly dying, like her life,
Which, being cruel to the world, concluded
Most cruel to herself. What she confessed
I will report, so please you; these her women
Can trip me if I err, who with wet cheeks
Were present when she finished.
Cymbeline Prithee say.
Cornelius First, she confessed she never loved you, only
Affected greatness got by you, not you;
Married your royalty, was wife to your place,
Abhorred your person.
Cymbeline She alone knew this;
And, but she spoke in dying, I would not
Believe her lips in opening it. Proceed.
Cornelius Your daughter, whom she bore in hand to love
With such integrity, she did confess
Was as a scorpion to her sight, whose life,
But that her flight prevented it, she had
Ta'en off by poison.
Cymbeline O most delicate fiend!
Who is't can read a woman? Is there more?
Cornelius More, sir, and worse. She did confess she had
For you a mortal mineral which, being took,
Should by the minute feed on life, and ling'ring,
By inches waste you; in which time she purposed,
By watching, weeping, tendance, kissing, to
O'ercome you with her show, and in time,
When she had fitted you with her craft, to work
Her son into th' adoption of the crown.
But, failing of her end by his strange absence,
Grew shameless-desperate, opened, in despite
Of heaven and men, her purposes, repented
The evils she hatched were not effected; so
Despairing died.
Cymbeline Heard you all this, her women?
Ladies We did, so please your highness.
Cymbeline Mine eyes
Were not in fault, for she was beautiful;
Mine ears that heard her flattery, nor my heart
That thought her like her seeming. It had been vicious
To have mistrusted her; yet, O my daughter,
That it was folly in me thou mayst say,
And prove it in thy feeling. Heaven mend all!
Enter LUCIUS, IACHIMO, the SOOTHSAYER, and other ROMAN PRISONERS,
guarded by SOLDIERS; POSTHUMUS behind, and INNOGEN.
Thou comest not, Caius, now for tribute; that
The Britons have razed out, though with the loss
Of many a bold one; whose kinsman have made suit
That their good souls may be appeased with slaughter
Of you their captives, which ourself have granted.
So think of your estate.
Lucius Consider, sir, the chance of war; the day
Was yours by accident. Had it gone with us,
We should not, when the blood was cool, have threatened
Our prisoners with the sword. But since the gods
Will have it thus, that nothing but our lives
May be called ransom, let it come. Sufficeth
A Roman with a Roman's heart can suffer.
Augustus lives to think on't; and so much
For my peculiar care. This one thing only
I will entreat: my boy, a Briton born,
Let him be ransomed. Never master had
A page so kind, so duteous, diligent,
So tender over his occasions, true,
So feat, so nurse-like; let his virtue join
With my request, which I'll make bold your highness
Cannot deny. He hath done no Briton harm,
Though he have served a Roman. Save him, sir,
And spare no blood beside.
Cymbeline I have surely seen him;
His favour is familiar to me. Boy,
Thou hast looked thyself into my grace,
And art mine own. I know not why, wherefore,
To say, `Live, boy'; ne'er thank thy master. Live,
And ask of Cymbeline what boon thou wilt,
Fitting my bounty and thy state, I'll give it;
Yea, though thou do demand a prisoner,
The noblest ta'en.
Innogen I humbly thank your highness.
Lucius I do not bid thee beg my life, good lad,
And yet I know thou wilt.
Innogen No, no; alack,
There's other work in hand. I see a thing
Bitter to me as death. Your life, good master,
Must shuffle for itself.
Lucius The boy disdains me;
He leaves me, scorns me. Briefly die their joys
That place them on the truth of girls and boys.
Why stands he so perplexed?
Cymbeline What wouldst thou, boy?
I love thee more and more; think more and more
What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st on? Speak,
Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin, thy friend?
Innogen He is a Roman, no more kin to me
Than I to your highness; who, being born your vassal,
Am something nearer.
Cymbeline Wherefore ey'st him so?
Innogen I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please
To give me hearing.
Cymbeline Ay, with all my heart,
And lend my best attention. What's thy name?
Innogen Fidele, sir.
Cymbeline Thou'rt my good youth, my page;
I'll be thy master. Walk with me; speak freely.
[CYMBELINE and INNOGEN converse apart.
Belarius Is not this boy revived from death?
Arviragus One sand another
Not more resembles that sweet rosy lad
Who died, and was Fidele. What think you?
Guiderius The same dead thing alive.
Belarius Peace, peace; see further. He eyes us not; forbear.
Creatures may be alike. Were't he, I am sure
He would have spoke to us.
Guiderius But we saw him dead.
Belarius Be silent; let's see further.
Pisanio [Aside.] It is my mistress.
Since she is living, let the time run on
To good or bad.
[CYMBELINE and INNOGEN come forward.
Cymbeline Come, stand thou by our side;
Make thy demand aloud. [To IACHIMO.] Sir, step you forth;
Give answer to this boy, and do it freely,
Or, by our greatness and the grace of it,
Which is our honour, bitter torture shall
Winnow the truth from falsehood. On, speak to him.
Innogen My boon is that this gentleman may render
Of whom he had this ring.
Posthumus [Aside.] What's that to him?
Cymbeline That diamond upon your finger, say
How came it yours?
Iachimo Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken that
Which to be spoke would torture thee.
Cymbeline How, me?
Iachimo I am glad to be constrained to utter that
Which torments me to conceal. By villainy
I got this ring. 'Twas Leonatus' jewel,
Whom thou didst banish; and -which more may grieve thee,
As it doth me -a nobler sir ne'er lived
'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my lord?
Cymbeline All that belongs to this.
Iachimo That paragon, thy daughter,
For whom my heart drops blood, and my false spirits
Quail to remember -Give me leave, I faint.
Cymbeline My daughter? What of her? Renew thy strength;
I had rather thou shouldst live while nature will
Than die ere I hear more. Strive, man, and speak.
Iachimo Upon a time -unhappy was the clock
That struck the hour -it was in Rome -accursed
The mansion where -'twas at a feast -O, would
Our viands had been poisoned, or at least
Those which I heaved to head -the good Posthumus -
What should I say? -he was too good to be
Where ill men were, and was the best of all
Amongst the rar'st of good ones -sitting sadly,
Hearing us praise our loves of Italy
For beauty, that made barren the swelled boast
Of him that best could speak; for feature, laming
The shrine of Venus or straight-pight Minerva,
Postures beyond brief nature; for condition,
A shop of all the qualities that man
Loves woman for, besides that hook of wiving,
Fairness which strikes the eye -
Cymbeline I stand on fire.
Come to the matter.
Iachimo All too soon I shall,
Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. This Posthumus,
Most like a noble lord, in love, and one
That had a royal lover, took his hint,
And -not dispraising whom we praised, therein
He was as calm as virtue -he began
His mistress' picture, which by his tongue being made,
And then a mind put in't, either our brags
Were cracked of kitchen-trulls, or his description
Proved us unspeaking sots.
Cymbeline Nay, nay, to th' purpose.
Iachimo Your daughter's chastity -there it begins.
He spake of her, as Dian had hot dreams
And she alone were cold; whereat I, wretch,
Made scruple of his praise and wagered with him
Pieces of gold 'gainst this, which then he wore
Upon his honoured finger, to attain
In suit the place of's bed, and win this ring
By hers and mine adultery. He, true knight,
No lesser of her honour confident
Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring,
And would so had it been a carbuncle
Of Phoebus' wheel; and might so safely, had it
Been all the worth of's car. Away to Britain
Post I in this design; well may you, sir,
Remember me at court, where I was taught
Of your chaste daughter the wide difference
'Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quenched
Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain
'Gan in your duller Britain operate
Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent.
And, to be brief, my practice so prevailed
That I returned with simular proof enough
To make the noble Leonatus mad
By wounding his belief in her renown
With tokens thus and thus; averring notes
Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet -
O cunning, how I got it! -nay, some marks
Of secret on her person, that he could not
But think her bond of chastity quite cracked,
I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon -
Methinks I see him now -
Posthumus [Advancing.] Ay, so thou dost,
Italian fiend! Ay me, most credulous fool,
Egregious murderer, thief, anything
That's due to all the villains past, in being,
To come! O, give me cord, or knife, or poison,
Some upright justicer! Thou, king, send out
For torturers ingenious. It is I
That all the abhorred things o'th' earth amend
By being worse than they. I am Posthumus,
That killed thy daughter -villain-like, I lie,
That caused a lesser villain than myself,
A sacrilegious thief, to do't. The temple
Of virtue was she; yea, and she herself.
Spit, and throw stones, cast mire upon me, set
The dogs o'th' street to bay me; every villain
Be called Posthumus Leonatus, and
Be villainy less than 'twas! O Innogen!
My queen, my life, my wife! O Innogen,
Innogen, Innogen!
Innogen Peace, my lord; hear, hear -
Posthumus Shall's have a play of this? Thou scornful page,
There lie thy part.
[He strikes her and she falls.
Pisanio O, gentlemen, help!
Mine and your mistress! O, my lord Posthumus!
You ne'er killed Innogen till now. Help, help!
Mine honoured lady!
Cymbeline Does the world go round?
Posthumus How comes these staggers on me?
Pisanio Wake, my mistress!
Cymbeline If this be so, the gods do mean to strike me
To death with mortal joy.
Pisanio How fares my mistress?
Innogen O, get thee from my sight;
Thou gavest me poison. Dangerous fellow, hence!
Breathe not where princes are.
Cymbeline The tune of Innogen!
Pisanio Lady,
The gods throw stones of sulphur on me if
That box I gave you was not thought by me
A precious thing. I had it from the queen.
Cymbeline New matter still.
Innogen It poisoned me.
Cornelius O gods!
I left out one thing which the queen confessed,
Which must approve thee honest. `If Pisanio
Have' said she, `given his mistress that confection
Which I gave him for cordial, she is served
As I would serve a rat'.
Cymbeline What's this, Cornelius?
Cornelius The queen, sir, very oft importuned me
To temper poisons for her, still pretending
The satisfaction of her knowledge only
In killing creatures vile, as cats and dogs
Of no esteem. I, dreading that her purpose
Was of more danger, did compound for her
A certain stuff, which being ta'en would cease
The present power of life, but in short time
All offices of nature should again
Do their due functions. Have you ta'en of it?
Innogen Most like I did, for I was dead.
Belarius My boys,
There was our error.
Guiderius This is sure Fidele.
Innogen [To POSTHUMUS.]
Why did you throw your wedded lady from you?
Think that you are upon a rock, and now
Throw me again.
[Embracing him.
Posthumus Hang there like fruit, my soul,
Till the tree die!
Cymbeline How now, my flesh, my child?
What, mak'st thou me a dullard in this act?
Wilt thou not speak to me?
Innogen [Kneeling.] Your blessing, sir.
Belarius [To GUIDERIUS and ARVIRAGUS.]
Though you did love this youth, I blame ye not;
You had a motive for't.
Cymbeline My tears that fall
Prove holy water on thee! Innogen,
Thy mother's dead.
Innogen I am sorry for't, my lord.
Cymbeline O, she was naught, and long of her it was
That we meet here so strangely; but her son
Is gone, we know not how nor where.
Pisanio My lord,
Now fear is from me I'll speak troth. Lord Cloten,
Upon my lady's missing, came to me
With his sword drawn, foamed at the mouth, and swore
If I discovered not which way she was gone
It was my instant death. By accident
I had a feigned letter of my master's
Then in my pocket, which directed him
To seek her on the mountains near to Milford,
Where, in a frenzy, in my master's garments
Which he enforced from me, away he posts
With unchaste purpose, and with oath to violate
My lady's honour. What became of him
I further know not.
Guiderius Let me end the story:
I slew him there.
Cymbeline Marry, the gods forfend!
I would not thy good deeds should from my lips
Pluck a hard sentence. Prithee, valiant youth,
Deny't again.
Guiderius I have spoke it, and I did it.
Cymbeline He was a prince.
Guiderius A most incivil one. The wrongs he did me
Were nothing prince-like; for he did provoke me
With language that would make me spurn the sea
If it could so roar to me. I cut off's head,
And am right glad he is not standing here
To tell this tale of mine.
Cymbeline I am sorry for thee.
By thine own tongue thou art condemned, and must
Endure our law. Thou'rt dead.
Innogen That headless man
I thought had been my lord.
Cymbeline Bind the offender,
And take him from our presence.
Belarius Stay, sir king;
This man is better than the man he slew,
As well descended as thyself, and hath
More of thee merited than a band of Clotens
Had ever scar for. [To the GUARD.] Let his arms alone,
They were not born for bondage.
Cymbeline Why, old soldier,
Wilt thou undo the worth thou art unpaid for
By tasting of our wrath? How of descent
As good as we?
Arviragus In that he spake too far.
Cymbeline And thou shalt die for't.
Belarius We will die all three;
But I will prove that two on's are as good
As I have given out him. My sons, I must
For mine own part unfold a dangerous speech,
Though haply well for you.
Arviragus Your danger's ours.
Guiderius And our good his.
Belarius Have at it then, by leave.
Thou hadst, great king, a subject who
Was called Belarius.
Cymbeline What of him? He is
A banished traitor.
Belarius He it is that hath
Assumed this age; indeed a banished man;
I know not how a traitor.
Cymbeline Take him hence,
The whole world shall not save him.
Belarius Not too hot;
First pay me for the nursing of thy sons,
And let it be confiscate all so soon
As I have received it.
Cymbeline Nursing of my sons?
Belarius I am too blunt and saucy. Here's my knee.
[Kneels.
Ere I arise I will prefer my sons;
Then spare not the old father. Mighty sir,
These two young gentlemen that call me father
And think they are my sons, are none of mine;
They are the issue of your loins, my liege,
And blood of your begetting.
Cymbeline How, my issue?
Belarius So sure as you your father's. I, old Morgan,
Am that Belarius whom you sometime banished.
Your pleasure was my mere offence, my punishment
Itself, and all my treason; that I suffered
Was all the harm I did. These gentle princes -
For such and so they are -these twenty years
Have I trained up; those arts they have as I
Could put into them. My breeding was, sir, as
Your highness knows. Their nurse, Euriphile -
Whom for the theft I wedded -stole these children
Upon my banishment. I moved her to't,
Having received the punishment before
For that which I did then. Beaten for loyalty
Excited me to treason. Their dear loss,
The more of you 'twas felt the more it shaped
Unto my end of stealing them. But, gracious sir,
Here are your sons again, and I must lose
Two of the sweet'st companions in the world.
The benediction of these covering heavens
Fall on their heads like dew, for they are worthy
To inlay heaven with stars.
Cymbeline Thou weep'st, and speak'st.
The service that you three have done is more
Unlike than this thou tell'st. I lost my children;
If these be they, I know not how to wish
A pair of worthier sons.
Belarius Be pleased awhile.
This gentleman, whom I call Polydore,
Most worthy prince, as yours, is true Guiderius;
This gentleman, my Cadwal, Arviragus,
Your younger princely son. He, sir, was lapped
In a most curious mantle wrought by th' hand
Of his queen mother, which for more probation
I can with ease produce.
Cymbeline Guiderius had
Upon his neck a mole, a sanguine star;
It was a mark of wonder.
Belarius This is he,
Who hath upon him still that natural stamp.
It was wise nature's end in the donation,
To be his evidence now.
Cymbeline O, what am I?
A mother to the birth of three? Ne'er mother
Rejoiced deliverance more. Blest pray you be,
That, after this strange starting from your orbs,
You may reign in them now! O Innogen,
Thou hast lost by this a kingdom.
Innogen No, my lord,
I have got two worlds by't. O my gentle brothers,
Have we thus met? O, never say hereafter
But I am truest speaker: you called me `brother'
When I was but your sister; I you `brothers'
When ye were so indeed.
Cymbeline Did you e'er meet?
Arviragus Ay, my good lord.
Guiderius And at first meeting loved,
Continued so until we thought he died.
Cornelius By the queen's dram she swallowed.
Cymbeline O rare instinct!
When shall I hear all through? This fierce abridgement
Hath to it circumstantial branches, which
Distinction should be rich in. Where? How lived you?
And when came you to serve our Roman captive?
How parted with your brothers? How first met them?
Why fled you from the court? -And whither? These,
And your three motives to the battle, with
I know not how much more, should be demanded,
And all the other by-dependances,
From chance to chance; but nor the time nor place
Will serve our long inter'gatories. See,
Posthumus anchors upon Innogen;
And she, like harmless lightning, throws her eye
On him, her brothers, me, her master, hitting
Each object with a joy; the counterchange
Is severally in all. Let's quit this ground,
And smoke the temple with our sacrifices.
[To BELARIUS.]
Thou art my brother; so we'll hold thee ever.
Innogen You are my father too, and did relieve me
To see this gracious season.
Cymbeline All o'erjoyed,
Save these in bonds. Let them be joyful too,
For they shall taste our comfort.
Innogen My good master,
I will yet do you service.
Lucius Happy be you!
Cymbeline The forlorn soldier that so nobly fought,
He would have well become this place, and graced
The thankings of a king.
Posthumus I am, sir,
The soldier that did company these three
In poor beseeming; 'twas a fitment for
The purpose I then followed. That I was he,
Speak, Iachimo; I had you down, and might
Have made you finish.
Iachimo [Kneeling.] I am down again;
But now my heavy conscience sinks my knee,
As then your force did. Take that life, beseech you,
Which I so often owe; but your ring first,
And here the bracelet of the truest princess
That ever swore her faith.
Posthumus Kneel not to me;
The power that I have on you is to spare you;
The malice towards you to forgive you. Live,
And deal with others better.
Cymbeline Nobly doomed!
We'll learn our freeness of a son-in-law;
Pardon's the word to all.
Arviragus [To POSTHUMUS.] You holp us, sir,
As you did mean indeed to be our brother;
Joyed are we that you are.
Posthumus Your servant, princes. Good my lord of Rome,
Call forth your soothsayer. As I slept methought
Great Jupiter, upon his eagle backed,
Appeared to me, with other spritely shows
Of mine own kindred. When I waked I found
This label on my bosom, whose containing
Is so from sense in hardness that I can
Make no collection of it. Let him show
His skill in the construction.
Lucius Philarmonus!
Soothsayer Here, my good lord.
Lucius Read, and declare the meaning.
Soothsayer [Reads.] "When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown,
without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece of tender air; and when from
a stately cedar shall be lopped branches which, being dead many years, shall
after revive, be jointed to the old stock, and freshly grow; then shall
Posthumus end his miseries, Britain be fortunate and flourish in peace and
plenty."
Thou, Leonatus, art the lion's whelp;
The fit and apt construction of thy name,
Being Leo-natus, doth import so much.
[To CYMBELINE.]
The piece of tender air, thy virtuous daughter,
Which we call `mollis aer', and `mollis aer'
We term it `mulier'; which `mulier' I divine
Is this most constant wife, who even now,
Answering the letter of the oracle,
Unknown to you, unsought, were clipped about
With this most tender air.
Cymbeline This hath some seeming.
Soothsayer The lofty cedar, royal Cymbeline,
Personates thee; and thy lopped branches point
Thy two sons forth, who, by Belarius stol'n,
For many years thought dead, are now revived,
To the most majestic cedar joined, whose issue
Promises Britain peace and plenty.
Cymbeline Well,
My peace we will begin; and, Caius Lucius,
Although the victor, we submit to Caesar
And to the Roman empire, promising
To pay our wonted tribute, from the which
We were dissuaded by our wicked queen,
Whom heavens in justice, both on her and hers,
Have laid most heavy hand.
Soothsayer The fingers of the powers above do tune
The harmony of this peace. The vision
Which I made known to Lucius ere the stroke
Of yet this scarce-cold battle, at this instant
Is full accomplished. For the Roman eagle,
From south to west on wing soaring aloft,
Lessened herself, and in the beams o'th' sun
So vanished; which foreshowed our princely eagle,
Th' imperial Caesar, should again unite
His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,
Which shines here in the west.
Cymbeline Laud we the gods;
And let our crooked smokes climb to their nostrils
From our blest altars. Publish we this peace
To all our subjects. Set we forward; let
A Roman and a British ensign wave
Friendly together; so through Lud's Town march;
And in the temple of great Jupiter
Our peace we'll ratify, seal it with feasts.
Set on there! Never was a war did cease,
Ere bloody hands were washed, with such a peace.
[Exeunt.