The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (844 page)

With the next favourable wind.

LUCIUS.

This forwardness

Makes our hopes fair. Command our present numbers

Be muster'd; bid the captains look to't. Now, sir,

What have you dream'd of late of this war's purpose?

These preparations

make our chances look good. Order the forces we have at present

on parade; tell the captains to see to it. Now, sir,

what dreams have you had recently about the outcome of this war?

SOOTHSAYER.

Last night the very gods show'd me a vision-

I fast and pray'd for their intelligence- thus:

I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle, wing'd

From the spongy south to this part of the west,

There vanish'd in the sunbeams; which portends,

Unless my sins abuse my divination,

Success to th' Roman host.

Last night the true gods gave me a vision–

I fasted and prayed for their assistance-which was this:

I saw Jove's bird, the Roman Eagle, flying

from the soft south to this part of the West,

where it vanished in the sunbeams; which predicts,

unless my foresight is clouded by my sins,

that the Roman army will win.

LUCIUS.

Dream often so,

And never false. 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.

Have this dream often,

and let it be true. Stop, what's this! What's this body

without a head? The remains show that once

it was a good man. What? A page?

Is he dead or sleeping on him? No, he's dead;

it would be unnatural to lie down

with the deceased, or to sleep on the dead.

Let me see the boy's face.

CAPTAIN.

He's alive, my lord.

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 alter'd that good picture? What's thy interest

In this sad wreck? How came't? Who is't? What art thou?

Then he'll tell us about this body. Young one,

tell us what's happened to you; it seems

the tale must be told. Who is this

that you're using as a bloody pillow? And who was he

that has made an unnatural alteration

to the fair sight of him? What do you have to do

with this awful business? What happened? Who is it? Who are you?

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!

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.

I am nothing; or if I'm not,

I‘d be better off if I was. This was my master,

a very brave Briton and a good one,

that lives here killed by outlaws. Alas!

There are no masters like this left. I could wander

from East to West, crying out for a job;

I could try working for many good men; I could serve truly and

I would never find another master like this.

LUCIUS.

'Lack, good youth!

Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining than

Thy master in bleeding. Say his name, good friend.

Alas, good youth!

Your sorrow is just as sad to see as

the sight of your bloody master. Tell me his name, good friend.

IMOGEN.

Richard du Champ. [Aside] If I do lie, and do

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

They'll pardon it.- Say you, sir?

Richard du Champ.[Aside] If I lie, and do

no harm through it, I hope the gods will pardon it

if they hear.–What did you say, sir?

LUCIUS.

Thy name?

What's your name?

IMOGEN.

Fidele, sir.

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 master'd; but, be sure,

No less belov'd. The Roman Emperor's letters,

Sent by a consul to me, should not sooner

Than thine own worth prefer thee. Go with me.

You have shown that's just what you are;

your name suits your loyalty, your loyalty your name.

Will you come and serve me? I won't say

that I can be such a good master; but, I can assure you,

you will be just as loved. If I had orders from

the Roman emperor, sent to me by a consul, they wouldn't

influence me more than your own goodness. Come with me.

IMOGEN.

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' strew'd 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.

I'll come, sir. But first, if the gods allow,

I'll hide my master away from the flies, as deep

as these rough pickaxes can dig; and when

I have covered his grave with wild wood leaves and weeds,

and said a hundred of what prayers I can,

twice over, I'll weep and sigh;

and then I'll leave his service to follow you,

if you're kind enough to welcome 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 preferr'd

By thee to us; and he shall be interr'd

As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe thine eyes.

Some falls are means the happier to arise.

Exeunt

I will, good youth;

and I'll be more of a father than a master to you.

My friends,

this boy has shown us what men should do; let us

find the prettiest flower covered spot we can,

and dig him a grave with our spears and

halberds. Give him weapons. Boy, he is

most important to you, and he shall be given

a soldier's burial. Be happy, wipe your eyes:

sometimes good can come out of evil.

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! Imogen,

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.

Go back! And bring me word of how she is.

Exit an attendant

The absence ofher son has made her ill;

it's an insanity, which threatens her life. Gods,

how much you load on me all at once! Imogen,

the thing that made me most happy, gone; my Queen

lying desperately ill, and at a time

when terrible wars are threatened; her son is gone,

whom we so needed at this time. It all hits me

too hard to hope for happiness. But as for you, fellow,

who must certainly know where she went and

pretends to be so ignorant, we'll get it out of you

with some harsh 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.

Sir, my life is yours;

you can do what you like with it; but as for my mistress,

I don't know where she is, why she left,

nor when she intends to return. I beg your Highness

to regard me as your loyal servant.

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.

My good lord,

the day she went missing he was here.

I'll swear that he is loyal and will carry out

his service truly. As for Cloten,

every effort is being made to look for him,

and no doubt he will be found.

CYMBELINE.

The time is troublesome.

[To PISANIO] We'll slip you for a season; but our jealousy

Does yet depend.

These are hard times.

I shall pardon you for a while; but my suspicions

remain in the balance.

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.

If you please, your Majesty,

the Roman legions from France

have landed on your coast, along with a force

of Roman gentlemen sent by the Senate.