Cymbeline (17 page)

GUIDERIUS
    Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head
to th’east.
³¹⁸

My father hath a reason for’t.

ARVIRAGUS
    ’Tis true.

GUIDERIUS
    Come on then, and
remove
³²¹
him.

ARVIRAGUS
    So, Begin.

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.
³²⁶

     
Golden lads and girls all must
³²⁷
,

     
As
³²⁸
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
³³³
, must

     All follow this and come to dust.

GUIDERIUS
    Fear no more the lightning flash,

ARVIRAGUS
    Nor th’all-dreaded
thunder-stone.
³³⁶

GUIDERIUS
    Fear not slander, censure rash.

ARVIRAGUS
    Thou hast finished joy and moan.

BOTH
    All lovers young, all lovers must

Consign to thee
³⁴⁰
and come to dust.

GUIDERIUS
    No
exorcizer
³⁴¹
harm thee,

ARVIRAGUS
    Nor no witchcraft
charm
³⁴²
thee.

GUIDERIUS
    
Ghost unlaid forbear thee.
³⁴³

ARVIRAGUS
    Nothing ill come near thee.

BOTH
    Quiet
consummation
³⁴⁵
have,

And renownèd be thy grave.

GUIDERIUS
    We have done our
obsequies
³⁴⁷
: 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.
³⁵⁰

You were as flowers, now withered: even so

These
herblets shall
³⁵²
, which we upon you strew.

Come on, away,
apart upon our knees
³⁵³
:

The ground that
gave them first
³⁵⁴
has them again:

Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain.

INNOGEN
    Yes, sir, to Milford Haven, which is the way?

I thank you: by yond bush? Pray how far thither?

’Od’s pittikins
³⁵⁸
: can it be six mile yet?

I have
gone
³⁵⁹
all night: faith, I’ll lie down and sleep.

But soft, no bedfellow!
³⁶⁰
O gods and goddesses!

These flowers are like the pleasures of the world,

This bloody man the
care on’t.
³⁶²
I hope I dream:

For
so
³⁶³
I thought I was a cave-keeper,

And cook to honest creatures. But ’tis not so:

’Twas but a
bolt
³⁶⁵
of nothing, shot at nothing,

Which the brain makes of
fumes.
³⁶⁶
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
³⁷⁰
of it!

The dream’s here still: even when I wake it is

Without me, as within me
: not imagined,
felt.
³⁷²

A headless man? The garments of Posthumus?

I know the shape of’s leg: this is his hand:

His foot mercurial:
his martial thigh:
³⁷⁵

The
brawns
³⁷⁶
of Hercules: but his jovial face—

Murder in heaven! How? ’Tis gone. Pisanio,

All curses
madded
Hecuba
³⁷⁸
gave the Greeks,

And mine to boot, be
darted
³⁷⁹
on thee! Thou,

Conspired
with that
irregulous
³⁸⁰
devil, Cloten,

Hath here cut off my lord. To write and read

Be henceforth treacherous! Damned Pisanio

Hath with his forgèd letters — damned Pisanio —

From
this most
bravest
vessel
of
³⁸⁴
the world

Struck the main-top!
³⁸⁵
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
³⁸⁹
in them

Have
laid
this woe here. O, ’tis
pregnant
³⁹⁰
, pregnant!

The drug he gave me, which he said was precious

And
cordial
³⁹²
to me, have I not found it

Murd’rous to th’senses? That confirms it
home
³⁹³
:

This is Pisanio’s deed, and Cloten: O,

Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood
³⁹⁵
,

That we the
horrider
³⁹⁶
may seem to those

Which chance
³⁹⁷
to find us! O my lord, my lord!

Enter Lucius, Captains and a
Soothsayer

CAPTAIN
    To them the legions garrisoned in
Gallia
³⁹⁸

After
your will have crossed the sea,
attending
³⁹⁹

You here at Milford Haven with your ships:

They are in readiness.

LUCIUS
    But what from Rome?

CAPTAIN
    The senate hath stirred up the
confiners
⁴⁰³

And gentlemen of Italy, most willing spirits,

That promise noble service: and they come

Under the conduct of bold Iachimo,

Siena’s
⁴⁰⁷
brother.

LUCIUS
    When expect you them?

CAPTAIN
    With the next
benefit
⁴⁰⁹
o’th’wind.

LUCIUS
    This
forwardness
⁴¹⁰

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?
⁴¹³

SOOTHSAYER
    Last night the very gods showed me a vision —

I
fast
, and prayed for their
intelligence
⁴¹⁵
— thus:

I saw Jove’s bird, the Roman eagle,
winged
⁴¹⁶

From the
spongy
⁴¹⁷
south to this part of the west,

There vanished in the sunbeams: which
portends
⁴¹⁸
—

Unless my
sins abuse my divination
⁴¹⁹
—

Success to th’Roman
host.
⁴²⁰

LUCIUS
    Dream often so,

And never false.— Soft ho, what
trunk
⁴²²
is here?

Without
his
top? The ruin
speaks
⁴²³
that sometime

It was a worthy building. How, a page?

Or
⁴²⁵
dead or sleeping on him? But dead rather:

For
nature doth abhor
⁴²⁶
to make his bed

With the
defunct
⁴²⁷
, 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
⁴³⁰
this body. Young one,

Inform us of thy fortunes, for it seems

They
crave to be demanded
⁴³²
: who is this

Thou mak’st thy bloody pillow? Or who was he

That, otherwise than noble nature did,

Hath
altered that good picture?
⁴³⁵
What’s thy interest

In this sad
wreck?
⁴³⁶
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
⁴⁴²
no more such masters: I may wander

From east to
occident
, cry out for
service
⁴⁴³
,

Try many, all good, serve truly, never

Find such another master.

LUCIUS
    
’Lack
⁴⁴⁶
, good youth,

Thou mov’st no less with thy
complaining
⁴⁴⁷
than

Thy master in bleeding: say his name, good friend.

INNOGEN
    Richard du Champ.— If I do lie and do

No harm by it, though the gods hear, I hope

They’ll pardon it.—
Say you
⁴⁵¹
, sir?

LUCIUS
    Thy name?

INNOGEN
    Fidele, sir.

LUCIUS
    Thou dost
approve thyself the very same
⁴⁵⁴
:

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
⁴⁶⁰
thee: go with me.

INNOGEN
    I’ll follow, sir. But first,
an’t
⁴⁶¹
please the gods,

I’ll hide my master from the flies, as deep

As these
poor pickaxes
⁴⁶³
can dig: and when

With wildwood leaves and weeds I ha’ strewed his grave,

And on it said a
century of
⁴⁶⁵
prayers,

Such as I
can
⁴⁶⁶
, twice o’er, I’ll weep and sigh,

And leaving so his service, follow you,

So please you entertain me.
⁴⁶⁸

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
⁴⁷⁴

A grave: come,
arm him.
Boy, he is
preferred
⁴⁷⁵

By thee to us, and he shall be interred

As soldiers
can.
⁴⁷⁷
Be cheerful, wipe thine eyes:

Some falls are means the happier to arise.

CYMBELINE
    
Again
¹
, and bring me word how ’tis with her.

A fever
with
²
the absence of her son,

A madness
of
³
which her life’s in danger: heavens,

How deeply you at once do
touch
⁴
me! Innogen,

The great part of my comfort, gone: my queen

Upon a desperate bed
⁶
, and in a time

When fearful wars point at me: her son gone,

So needful for this
present.
⁸
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
¹¹

By a sharp torture.

PISANIO
    Sir, my life is yours,

I humbly set it at your will: but for my mistress,

I
nothing know
¹⁵
where she remains, why gone,

Nor when she
purposes
¹⁶
return. Beseech your highness,

Hold
¹⁷
me your loyal servant.

FIRST 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
²¹
loyally. For Cloten,

There
wants
²²
no diligence in seeking him,

And
will
²³
no doubt be found.

CYMBELINE
    The time is troublesome.—