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Cymbeline (Folio 1, 1623)

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Jennifer Forsyth
Peer Reviewed
388
The Tragedy of Cymbeline.
Why I should yeeld to thee?
Clot. Thou Villaine base,
2350Know'st me not by my Cloathes?
Gui. No, nor thy Taylor, Rascall:
Who is thy Grandfather? He made those cloathes,
Which (as it seemes) make thee.
Clo. Thou precious Varlet,
2355My Taylor made them not.
Gui. Hence then, and thanke
The man that gaue them thee. Thou art some Foole,
I am loath to beate thee.
Clot. Thou iniurious Theefe,
2360Heare but my name, and tremble.
Gui. What's thy name?
Clo. Cloten, thou Villaine.
Gui. Cloten, thou double Villaine be thy name,
I cannot tremble at it, were it Toad, or Adder, Spider,
2365'Twould moue me sooner.
Clot. To thy further feare,
Nay, to thy meere Confusion, thou shalt know
I am Sonne to'th'Queene.
Gui. I am sorry for't: not seeming
2370So worthy as thy Birth.
Clot. Art not afeard?
Gui. Those that I reuerence, those I feare: the Wise:
At Fooles I laugh: not feare them.
Clot. Dye the death:
2375When I haue slaine thee with my proper hand,
Ile follow those that euen now fled hence:
And on the Gates of Luds-Towne set your heads:
Yeeld Rusticke Mountaineer.
Fight and Exeunt.
Enter Belarius and Aruiragus.
2380Bel. No Companie's abroad?
Arui. None in the world: you did mistake him sure.
Bel. I cannot tell: Long is it since I saw him,
But Time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of Fauour
Which then he wore: the snatches in his voice,
2385And burst of speaking were as his: I am absolute
'Twas very Cloten.
Arui. In this place we left them;
I wish my Brother make good time with him,
You say he is so fell.
2390Bel. Being scarse made vp,
I meane to man; he had not apprehension
Of roaring terrors: For defect of iudgement
Is oft the cause of Feare.
Enter Guiderius.
2395But see thy Brother.
Gui. This Cloten was a Foole, an empty purse,
There was no money in't: Not Hercules
Could haue knock'd out his Braines, for he had none:
Yet I not doing this, the Foole had borne
2400My head, as I do his.
Bel. What hast thou done?
Gui. I am perfect what: cut off one Clotens head,
Sonne to the Queene (after his owne report)
Who call'd me Traitor, Mountaineer, and swore
2405With his owne single hand heel'd take vs in,
Displace our heads, where (thanks the Gods) they grow
And set them on Luds-Towne.
Bel. We are all vndone.
Gui. Why, worthy Father, what haue we to loose,
2410But that he swore to take our Liues? the Law
Protects not vs, then why should we be tender,
To let an arrogant peece of flesh threat vs?
Play Iudge, and Executioner, all himselfe?
For we do feare the Law. What company
2415Discouer you abroad?
Bel. No single soule
Can we set eye on: but in all safe reason
He must haue some Attendants. Though his Honor
Was nothing but mutation, I, and that
2420From one bad thing to worse: Not Frenzie,
Not absolute madnesse could so farre haue rau'd
To bring him heere alone: although perhaps
It may be heard at Court, that such as wee
Caue heere, hunt heere, are Out-lawes, and in time
2425May make some stronger head, the which he hearing,
(As it is like him) might breake out, and sweare
Heel'd fetch vs in, yet is't not probable
To come alone, either he so vndertaking,
Or they so suffering: then on good ground we feare,
2430If we do feare this Body hath a taile
More perillous then the head.
Arui. Let Ord'nance
Come as the Gods fore-say it: howsoere,
My Brother hath done well.
2435Bel. I had no minde
To hunt this day: The Boy Fideles sickenesse
Did make my way long forth.
Gui. With his owne Sword,
Which he did waue against my throat, I haue tane
2440His head from him: Ile throw't into the Creeke
Behinde our Rocke, and let it to the Sea,
And tell the Fishes, hee's the Queenes Sonne, Cloten,
That's all I reake.
Exit.
Bel. I feare 'twill be reueng'd:
2445Would (Polidore) thou had'st not done't: though valour
Becomes thee well enough.
Arui. Would I had done't:
So the Reuenge alone pursu'de me: Polidore
I loue thee brotherly, but enuy much
2450Thou hast robb'd me of this deed: I would Reuenges
That possible strength might meet, wold seek vs through
And put vs to our answer.
Bel. Well, 'tis done:
Wee'l hunt no more to day, nor seeke for danger
2455Where there's no profit. I prythee to our Rocke,
You and Fidele play the Cookes: Ile stay
Till hasty Polidore returne, and bring him
To dinner presently.
Arui. Poore sicke Fidele.
2460Ile willingly to him, to gaine his colour,
Il'd let a parish of such Clotens blood,
And praise my selfe for charity.
Exit.
Bel. Oh thou Goddesse,
Thou diuine Nature; thou thy selfe thou blazon'st
2465In these two Princely Boyes: they are as gentle
As Zephires blowing below the Violet,
Not wagging his sweet head; and yet, as rough
(Their Royall blood enchaf'd) as the rud'st winde,
That by the top doth take the Mountaine Pine,
2470And make him stoope to th'Vale. 'Tis wonder
That an inuisible instinct should frame them
To Royalty vnlearn'd, Honor vntaught,
Ciuility not seene from other: valour
That wildely growes in them, but yeelds a crop
2475As if it had beene sow'd: yet still it's strange
What Clotens being heere to vs portends,
Or what his death will bring vs.
Enter Guidereus.
Gui. Where's my Brother?
I