Cymbeline (Modern)
Peer Reviewed
¶[4.2]
¶
Enter Belarius [as Morgan], Guiderius [as Polydore], Arviragus [as Cadwal], and 2245Imogen [as Fidele] from the cave
¶Belarius You are not well. Remain here in the cave;
| ¶We'll come to you after hunting. | |
| ¶Arviragus | |
| [To Imogen] Brother, stay here. | |
| ¶Are we not brothers? | |
| 2250Imogen | |
| So man and man should be. -- | |
[Aside]
¶But clay and clay differs in dignity
¶Whose dust is both alike. -- I am very sick.
¶Imogen So sick I am not, yet I am not well,
2255But 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
2260To 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; | |
2265How 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
2270I 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] Oh, noble strain! | |
2275O 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. --
| 2280'Tis the ninth hour o'th' morn. | |
| ¶Arviragus | |
| Brother, farewell. | |
| ¶Imogen | ||
| I wish ye sport. | ||
| ¶Arviragus | ||
| You, health. -- [To Belarius] | ||
| So please you, sir. | ||
¶Our courtiers say all's savage but at court;
¶Experience, oh, thou disprov'st report.
¶Th'imperious seas breeds monsters; for the dish,
¶Poor tributary rivers, as sweet fish.
2290I am sick still, heart-sick; Pisanio,
| ¶I'll now taste of thy drug. | |
| ¶Guiderius | |
| [To Belarius and Arviragus] I could not stir him. | |
¶He said he was gentle but unfortunate,
¶Dishonestly afflicted but yet honest.
2295Arviragus Thus did he answer me, yet said hereafter
| ¶I might know more. | |
| ¶Belarius | |
| To th' field, to th' field. -- [To Imogen] | |
¶We'll leave you for this time; go in and rest.
| ¶Arviragus | |
| We'll not be long away. | |
| 2300Belarius | |
| Pray be not sick, | |
| ¶For you must be our housewife. | |
| ¶Imogen | |
| Well or ill, | |
| ¶I am bound to you. | |
Exit [to the cave] | |
| ¶Belarius | |
| And shalt be ever. | |
2305This youth, howe'er distressed, appears he hath had
| ¶Good ancestors. | |
| ¶Arviragus | |
| How angel-like he sings! | |
2310And sauc'd 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;
2315The 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 them both
| 2320Mingle their spurs together. | |
| ¶Arviragus | |
| Grow patient, | |
¶And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine
¶His perishing root with the increasing vine.
¶Belarius It is great morning. Come away. -- Who's there?
2325
Enter Clotten [without seeing them]
| ¶Hath mocked me. I am faint. | |
| ¶Belarius | |
| [To Guiderius and Arviragus] Those runagates? | |
¶Means he not us? I partly know him; 'tis
2330Clotten, 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;
| 2335Let me alone with him. | |
[Exeunt Belarius and Arviragus] | |
| ¶Clotten | |
| [Clotten notices them] Soft; what are you | |
¶That fly me thus? Some villain mountaineers?
| ¶I have heard of such. What slave art thou? | |
| ¶Guiderius | |
| A thing | |
2340More slavish did I ne'er than answering
| ¶A slave without a knock. | |
| ¶Clotten | |
| Thou art a robber, | |
¶A law-breaker, a villain; yield thee, thief.
¶Guiderius To who? To thee? What art thou? Have not I
2345An 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. | |
| ¶Clotten | |
| Thou villain base, | |
| 2350Knowst 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. | |
| ¶Clotten | |
| Thou precious varlet, | |
| 2355My 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. | |
| ¶Clotten | |
| Thou injurious thief, | |
| 2360Hear but my name and tremble. | |
| ¶Guiderius | |
| What's thy name? | |
¶Clotten Clotten, thou villain.
¶Guiderius "Clotten thou double villain" be thy name,
¶I cannot tremble at it. Were it toad or adder, spider,
| 2365'Twould move me sooner. | |
| ¶Clotten | |
| 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 | |
| 2370So worthy as thy birth. | |
| ¶Clotten | |
| Art not afeard? | |
¶Guiderius Those that I reverence, those I fear: the wise;
| ¶At fools I laugh, not fear them. | |
| ¶Clotten | |
| Die the death! | |
2375When I have slain thee with my proper hand,
¶I'll follow those that even now fled hence
¶And on the gates of Luds-Town set your heads.
¶Yield, rustic mountaineer!
Fight and exeunt
¶
Enter Belarius and Arviragus
2380Belarius No company's 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 favor
¶Which then he wore. The snatches in his voice
2385And burst of speaking were as his: I am absolute
| ¶'Twas very Clotten. | |
| ¶Arviragus | |
| In this place we left them. | |
¶I wish my brother make good time with him
| ¶You say he is so fell. | |
| 2390Belarius | |
| Being scarce made up, | |
¶I mean to man, he had not apprehension
¶Of roaring terrors, for defect of judgment
| ¶Is oft the cause of fear. ¶Enter Guiderius [with Clotten's head] | |
| 2395But see thy brother. |
¶Guiderius This Clotten 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
| 2400My head as I do his. | |
| ¶Belarius | |
| What hast thou done? | |
¶Guiderius I am perfect what: cut off one Clotten's head,
¶Son to the Queen after his own report,
¶Who called me traitor, mountaineer, and swore
2405With his own single hand he'd take us in,
¶Displace our heads where, thanks the gods, they grow
| ¶And set them on Luds-Town. | |
| ¶Belarius | |
| We are all undone. | |
¶Guiderius Why, worthy father, what have we to lose
2410But 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
| 2415Discover you abroad? | |
| ¶Belarius | |
| No single soul | |
¶Can we set eye on, but in all safe reason
¶He must have some attendants. Though his honor
¶Was nothing but mutation, aye, and that
2420From 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
2425May 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
2430If we do fear this body hath a tail
| ¶More perilous than the head. | |
| ¶Arviragus | |
| Let ord'nance | |
¶Come as the gods fore-say it; howsoe'er,
| ¶My brother hath done well. | |
| 2435Belarius | |
| 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
2440His 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, Clotten;
| ¶That's all I reck. | |
Exit | |
| ¶Belarius | |
| I fear 'twill be revenged. | |
2445Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done't, though valor
| ¶Becomes thee well enough. | |
| ¶Arviragus | |
| Would I had done't, | |
¶So the revenge alone pursued me. Polydore,
¶I love thee brotherly, but envy much
2450Thou 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
2455Where 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. | |
2460I'll willingly to him. To gain his color,
¶I'd let a parish of such Clotten's blood
| ¶And praise myself for charity. | |
Exit | |
| ¶Belarius | |
| O thou goddess, | |
¶Thou divine Nature, thou thyself thou blazonst
2465In 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 rudest wind
¶That by the top doth take the mountain pine
2470And make him stoop to th' vale. 'Tis wonder
¶That an invisible instinct should frame them
¶To royalty unlearned, honor untaught,
¶Civility not seen from other, valor
¶That wildly grows in them but yields a crop
2475As if it had been sowed. Yet still it's strange
¶What Clotten's being here to us portends
| ¶Or what his death will bring us. | |
| ¶ Enter Guiderius | |
| ¶Guiderius | |
| Where's my brother? | |
2480I have sent Clotten's clot-pole 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
2485Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark!
| ¶Guiderius | |
| Is he at home? | |
| ¶Belarius | |
| He went hence even now. | |
2490It 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?
¶Belarius Look, here he comes,
¶And brings the dire occasion in his arms
| ¶Of what we blame him for. | |
| 2500Arviragus | |
| 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. | |
| 2505Guiderius | |
| O sweetest, fairest lily, | |
¶My brother wears thee not the one half so well
| ¶As when thou grewst thyself. | |
| ¶Belarius | |
| O melancholy, | |
¶Who ever yet could sound thy bottom? Find
2510The ooze to show what coast thy sluggish care
¶Might easil'est harbor in. Thou blessèd thing,
¶Jove knows what man thou mightst have made; but I,
¶Thou diedst a most rare boy, of melancholy.
| ¶How found you him? | |
2515Arviragus 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. | |
¶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. | |
2525If 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,
2530I'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
2535With 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 corpse -- | |
| 2540Guiderius | |
| 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. | |
| 2545Arviragus | |
| 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
2550As once to 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
| 2555Than priests and fanes that lie. | |
| ¶Arviragus | |
| We'll speak it, then. | |
¶Belarius Great griefs, I see, med'cine the less, for Clotten
¶Is quite forgot. He was a queen's son, boys,
¶And though he came our enemy, remember
2560He 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,
| 2565Yet 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, | |
| 2570We'll say our song the whilst. [Exit Belarius] | |
| Brother, begin. |
¶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. | |
| 2575Arviragus | |
| So, begin. | |
¶
SONG
¶
Guiderius Fear no more the heat o'th' sun,
¶Nor the furious winter's rages;¶Thou thy worldly task hast done,2580Home 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.2585Care no more to clothe and eat;¶To thee the reed is as the oak:¶The scepter, learning, physic must¶All follow this and come to dust.¶Guiderius Fear no more the lightning-flash,2590Arviragus 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.2595Guiderius 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,2600And renowned be thy grave.
¶
Enter Belarius with the body of Clotten
¶Belarius Here's a few flowers, but 'bout midnight more;
2605The 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;
2610The ground that gave them first has them again.
¶Their pleasures here are past, so are their pain.
Exeunt
[Imogen awakes]
¶I thank you. By yond bush? Pray, how far thither?
2615'Ods-pittikins, can it be six mile yet?
¶I have gone all night. Faith, I'll lie down and sleep.
[Discovers the body]
¶But soft; no bedfellow! Oh, gods and goddesses!
¶These flowers are like the pleasures of the world;
¶This bloody man, the care on't. I hope I dream,
2620For 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 judgments, blind. Good faith,
2625I 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.
2630A 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,
2635All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks
¶And mine to boot be darted on thee! Thou
¶Conspired with that irregulous devil Clotten,
¶Hast here cut off my lord. To write and read
¶Be henceforth treacherous. Damned Pisanio
2640Hath with his forgèd 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
2645And left this head on. How should this be, Pisanio?
¶'Tis he and Clotten; malice and lucre in them
¶Have laid this woe here. Oh, 'tis pregnant, pregnant!
¶The drug he gave me, which he said was precious
¶And cordial to me, have I not found it
2650Murderous to th' senses? That confirms it home:
¶This is Pisanio's deed, and Clotten. Oh!
¶Give color to my pale cheek with thy blood
¶That we the horrider may seem to those
¶Which chance to find us. Oh, my lord! My lord!
Falls on the body
2655
Enter Lucius, [Roman] Captains, and a Soothsayer
¶Captain To them 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. | |
| 2660Lucius | |
| 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,
| 2665Sienna'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
2670Be 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
2675From 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, | |
2680And never false. -- [Sees the body] 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
2685With 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
2690They 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 wrack? How came't? Who is't?
| 2695What art thou? | |
| ¶Imogen | |
| 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,
2700There 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, | |
2705Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining than
¶Thy master in bleeding. Say his name, good friend.
¶No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope
| ¶They'll pardon it. -- Say you, 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
2715Thou 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.
¶Imogen I'll follow, sir. But first, an't please the gods,
2720I'll hide my master from the flies as deep
¶As these poor pickaxes can dig, and when
¶With wildwood-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,
2725And leaving so his service, follow you,
| ¶So please you entertain me. | |
| ¶Lucius | |
| Aye, good youth, | |
¶And rather father thee than master thee. My friends,
¶The boy hath taught us manly duties: let us
2730Find out the prettiest daisied plot we can
¶And make him with our pikes and partisans
| ¶A grave. -- [To Captains] | ||
| Come, arm him. -- | ||
| Boy, he's preferred |
¶By thee to us, and he shall be interred
¶As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes:
2735Some falls are means the happier to arise.
Exeunt
