Cymbeline by William Shakespeare

Act 4 - Scene 2

Before the cave of Belarius.

Belarius : [To IMOGEN] You are not well: remain here in the cave; [p]We'll come
to you after hunting.

Arviragus : [To IMOGEN]. Brother, stay here [p]Are we not brothers?

Imogen : So man and man should be; [p]But clay and clay differs in
dignity, [p]Whose dust is both alike. I am very sick.

Guiderius : Go you to hunting; I'll abide with him.

Imogen : So sick I am not, yet I am not well; [p]But not so citizen a wanton
as [p]To seem to die ere sick: so please you, leave me; [p]Stick to
your journal course: the breach of custom [p]Is breach of all. I am
ill, but your being by me [p]Cannot amend me; society is no
comfort [p]To one not sociable: I am not very sick, [p]Since I can
reason of it. Pray you, trust me here: [p]I'll rob none but myself;
and let me die, [p]Stealing so poorly.

Guiderius : I love thee; I have spoke it [p]How much the quantity, the weight as
much, [p]As I do love my father.

Belarius : What! how! how!

Arviragus : If it be sin to say so, I yoke me [p]In my good brother's fault: I
know not why [p]I love this youth; and I have heard you say, [p]Love's
reason's without reason: the bier at door, [p]And a demand who is't
shall die, I'd say [p]'My father, not this youth.'

Belarius : [Aside]. O noble strain! [p]O worthiness of nature! breed of
greatness! [p]Cowards father cowards and base things sire
base: [p]Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace. [p]I'm not
their father; yet who this should be, [p]Doth miracle itself, loved
before me. [p]'Tis the ninth hour o' the morn.

Arviragus : Brother, farewell.

Imogen : I wish ye sport.

Arviragus : You health. So please you, sir.

Imogen : [Aside] These are kind creatures. Gods, what lies [p]I have
heard! [p]Our courtiers say all's savage but at court: [p]Experience,
O, thou disprovest report! [p]The imperious seas breed monsters, for
the dish [p]Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish. [p]I am sick still;
heart-sick. Pisanio, [p]I'll now taste of thy drug.

Guiderius : I could not stir him: [p]He said he was gentle, but
unfortunate; [p]Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest.

Arviragus : Thus did he answer me: yet said, hereafter [p]I might know more.

Belarius : To the field, to the field! [p]We'll leave you for this time: go in
and rest.

Arviragus : We'll not be long away.

Belarius : Pray, be not sick, [p]For you must be our housewife.

Imogen : Well or ill, [p]I am bound to you.

Belarius : And shalt be ever. [p][Exit IMOGEN, to the cave] [p]This youth, how'er
distress'd, appears he hath had [p]Good ancestors.

Arviragus : How angel-like he sings!

Guiderius : But his neat cookery! he cut our roots [p]In characters, [p]And sauced
our broths, as Juno had been sick [p]And he her dieter.

Arviragus : Nobly he yokes [p]A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh [p]Was that it
was, for not being such a smile; [p]The smile mocking the sigh, that
it would fly [p]From so divine a temple, to commix [p]With winds that
sailors rail at.

Guiderius : I do note [p]That grief and patience, rooted in him both, [p]Mingle
their spurs together.

Arviragus : Grow, patience! [p]And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine [p]His
perishing root with the increasing vine!

Belarius : It is great morning. Come, away!-- [p]Who's there?

Cloten : I cannot find those runagates; that villain [p]Hath mock'd me. I am
faint.

Belarius : 'Those runagates!' [p]Means he not us? I partly know him:
'tis [p]Cloten, the son o' the queen. I fear some ambush. [p]I saw him
not these many years, and yet [p]I know 'tis he. We are held as
outlaws: hence!

Guiderius : He is but one: you and my brother search [p]What companies are near:
pray you, away; [p]Let me alone with him.

Cloten : Soft! What are you [p]That fly me thus? some villain
mountaineers? [p]I have heard of such. What slave art thou?

Guiderius : A thing [p]More slavish did I ne'er than answering [p]A slave without
a knock.

Cloten : Thou art a robber, [p]A law-breaker, a villain: yield thee, thief.

Guiderius : To who? to thee? What art thou? Have not I [p]An arm as big as thine?
a heart as big? [p]Thy words, I grant, are bigger, for I wear
not [p]My dagger in my mouth. Say what thou art, [p]Why I should yield
to thee?

Cloten : Thou villain base, [p]Know'st me not by my clothes?

Guiderius : No, nor thy tailor, rascal, [p]Who is thy grandfather: he made those
clothes, [p]Which, as it seems, make thee.

Cloten : Thou precious varlet, [p]My tailor made them not.

Guiderius : Hence, then, and thank [p]The man that gave them thee. Thou art some
fool; [p]I am loath to beat thee.

Cloten : Thou injurious thief, [p]Hear but my name, and tremble.

Guiderius : What's thy name?

Cloten : Cloten, thou villain.

Guiderius : Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name, [p]I cannot tremble at it:
were it Toad, or [p]Adder, Spider, [p]'Twould move me sooner.

Cloten : To thy further fear, [p]Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt
know [p]I am son to the queen.

Guiderius : I am sorry for 't; not seeming [p]So worthy as thy birth.

Cloten : Art not afeard?

Guiderius : Those that I reverence those I fear, the wise: [p]At fools I laugh,
not fear them.

Cloten : Die the death: [p]When I have slain thee with my proper hand, [p]I'll
follow those that even now fled hence, [p]And on the gates of
Lud's-town set your heads: [p]Yield, rustic mountaineer.

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, [p]But time hath nothing
blurr'd those lines of favour [p]Which then he wore; the snatches in
his voice, [p]And burst of speaking, were as his: I am
absolute [p]'Twas very Cloten.

Arviragus : In this place we left them: [p]I wish my brother make good time with
him, [p]You say he is so fell.

Belarius : Being scarce made up, [p]I mean, to man, he had not apprehension [p]Of
roaring terrors; for the effect of judgment [p]Is oft the cause of
fear. But, see, thy brother.

Guiderius : This Cloten was a fool, an empty purse; [p]There was no money in't:
not Hercules [p]Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had
none: [p]Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne [p]My head as I do
his.

Belarius : What hast thou done?

Guiderius : I am perfect what: cut off one Cloten's head, [p]Son to the queen,
after his own report; [p]Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer, and
swore [p]With his own single hand he'ld take us in [p]Displace our
heads where--thank the gods!--they grow, [p]And set them on
Lud's-town.

Belarius : We are all undone.

Guiderius : Why, worthy father, what have we to lose, [p]But that he swore to
take, our lives? The law [p]Protects not us: then why should we be
tender [p]To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us, [p]Play judge
and executioner all himself, [p]For we do fear the law? What
company [p]Discover you abroad?

Belarius : No single soul [p]Can we set eye on; but in all safe reason [p]He must
have some attendants. Though his humour [p]Was nothing but mutation,
ay, and that [p]From one bad thing to worse; not frenzy,
not [p]Absolute madness could so far have raved [p]To bring him here
alone; although perhaps [p]It may be heard at court that such as
we [p]Cave here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time [p]May make some
stronger head; the which he hearing-- [p]As it is like him--might
break out, and swear [p]He'ld fetch us in; yet is't not probable [p]To
come alone, either he so undertaking, [p]Or they so suffering: then on
good ground we fear, [p]If we do fear this body hath a tail [p]More
perilous than the head.

Arviragus : Let ordinance [p]Come as the gods foresay it: howsoe'er, [p]My brother
hath done well.

Belarius : I had no mind [p]To hunt this day: the boy Fidele's sickness [p]Did
make my way long forth.

Guiderius : With his own sword, [p]Which he did wave against my throat, I have
ta'en [p]His head from him: I'll throw't into the creek [p]Behind our
rock; and let it to the sea, [p]And tell the fishes he's the queen's
son, Cloten: [p]That's all I reck.

Belarius : I fear 'twill be revenged: [p]Would, Polydote, thou hadst not done't!
though valour [p]Becomes thee well enough.

Arviragus : Would I had done't [p]So the revenge alone pursued me! Polydore, [p]I
love thee brotherly, but envy much [p]Thou hast robb'd me of this
deed: I would revenges, [p]That possible strength might meet, would
seek us through [p]And put us to our answer.

Belarius : Well, 'tis done: [p]We'll hunt no more to-day, nor seek for
danger [p]Where there's no profit. I prithee, to our rock; [p]You and
Fidele play the cooks: I'll stay [p]Till hasty Polydote return, and
bring him [p]To dinner presently.

Arviragus : Poor sick Fidele! [p]I'll weringly to him: to gain his colour [p]I'ld
let a parish of such Clotens' blood, [p]And praise myself for
charity.

Belarius : O thou goddess, [p]Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou
blazon'st [p]In these two princely boys! They are as gentle [p]As
zephyrs blowing below the violet, [p]Not wagging his sweet head; and
yet as rough, [p]Their royal blood enchafed, as the rudest
wind, [p]That by the top doth take the mountain pine, [p]And make him
stoop to the vale. 'Tis wonder [p]That an invisible instinct should
frame them [p]To royalty unlearn'd, honour untaught, [p]Civility not
seen from other, valour [p]That wildly grows in them, but yields a
crop [p]As if it had been sow'd. Yet still it's strange [p]What
Cloten's being here to us portends, [p]Or what his death will bring
us.

Guiderius : Where's my brother? [p]I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the
stream, [p]In embassy to his mother: his body's hostage [p]For his
return.

Belarius : My ingenious instrument! [p]Hark, Polydore, it sounds! But what
occasion [p]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 [p]it did not
speak before. All solemn things [p]Should answer solemn accidents. The
matter? [p]Triumphs for nothing and lamenting toys [p]Is jollity for
apes and grief for boys. [p]Is Cadwal mad?

Belarius : Look, here he comes, [p]And brings the dire occasion in his arms [p]Of
what we blame him for. [p][Re-enter ARVIRAGUS, with IMOGEN, as
dead,] [p]bearing her in his arms]

Arviragus : The bird is dead [p]That we have made so much on. I had rather [p]Have
skipp'd from sixteen years of age to sixty, [p]To have turn'd my
leaping-time into a crutch, [p]Than have seen this.

Guiderius : O sweetest, fairest lily! [p]My brother wears thee not the one half so
well [p]As when thou grew'st thyself.

Belarius : O melancholy! [p]Who ever yet could sound thy bottom? find [p]The
ooze, to show what coast thy sluggish crare [p]Might easiliest harbour
in? Thou blessed thing! [p]Jove knows what man thou mightst have made;
but I, [p]Thou diedst, a most rare boy, of melancholy. [p]How found
you him?

Arviragus : Stark, as you see: [p]Thus smiling, as some fly hid tickled
slumber, [p]Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at; his [p]right
cheek [p]Reposing on a cushion.

Guiderius : Where?

Arviragus : O' the floor; [p]His arms thus leagued: I thought he slept, and
put [p]My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness [p]Answer'd
my steps too loud.

Guiderius : Why, he but sleeps: [p]If he be gone, he'll make his grave a
bed; [p]With female fairies will his tomb be haunted, [p]And worms
will not come to thee.

Arviragus : With fairest flowers [p]Whilst summer lasts and I live here,
Fidele, [p]I'll sweeten thy sad grave: thou shalt not lack [p]The
flower that's like thy face, pale primrose, nor [p]The azured
harebell, like thy veins, no, nor [p]The leaf of eglantine, whom not
to slander, [p]Out-sweeten'd not thy breath: the ruddock
would, [p]With charitable bill,--O bill, sore-shaming [p]Those
rich-left heirs that let their fathers lie [p]Without a
monument!--bring thee all this; [p]Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when
flowers are none, [p]To winter-ground thy corse.

Guiderius : Prithee, have done; [p]And do not play in wench-like words with
that [p]Which is so serious. Let us bury him, [p]And not protract with
admiration what [p]Is now due debt. To the grave!

Arviragus : Say, where shall's lay him?

Guiderius : By good Euriphile, our mother.

Arviragus : Be't so: [p]And let us, Polydore, though now our voices [p]Have got
the mannish crack, sing him to the ground, [p]As once our mother; use
like note and words, [p]Save that Euriphile must be Fidele.

Guiderius : Cadwal, [p]I cannot sing: I'll weep, and word it with thee; [p]For
notes of sorrow out of tune are worse [p]Than priests and fanes that
lie.

Arviragus : We'll speak it, then.

Belarius : Great griefs, I see, medicine the less; for Cloten [p]Is quite forgot.
He was a queen's son, boys; [p]And though he came our enemy,
remember [p]He was paid for that: though mean and [p]mighty,
rotting [p]Together, have one dust, yet reverence, [p]That angel of
the world, doth make distinction [p]Of place 'tween high and low. Our
foe was princely [p]And though you took his life, as being our
foe, [p]Yet bury him as a prince.

Guiderius : Pray You, fetch him hither. [p]Thersites' body is as good as
Ajax', [p]When neither are alive.

Arviragus : If you'll go fetch him, [p]We'll say our song the whilst. Brother,
begin.

Guiderius : Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to the east; [p]My father hath a
reason for't.

Arviragus : 'Tis true.

Guiderius : Come on then, and remove him.

Arviragus : So. Begin.

Guiderius : Fear no more the heat o' the sun, [p]Nor the furious winter's
rages; [p]Thou thy worldly task hast done, [p]Home art gone, and ta'en
thy wages: [p]Golden lads and girls all must, [p]As chimney-sweepers,
come to dust.

Arviragus : Fear no more the frown o' the great; [p]Thou art past the tyrant's
stroke; [p]Care no more to clothe and eat; [p]To thee the reed is as
the oak: [p]The sceptre, learning, physic, must [p]All follow this,
and come to dust.

Guiderius : Fear no more the lightning flash,

Arviragus : Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;

Guiderius : Fear not slander, censure rash;

Arviragus : Thou hast finish'd joy and moan:

Guiderius : [with Arviragus] All lovers young, all lovers must [p]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!

Guiderius : [with Arviragus] Quiet consummation have; [p]And renowned be thy
grave!

Guiderius : We have done our obsequies: come, lay him down.

Belarius : Here's a few flowers; but 'bout midnight, more: [p]The herbs that have
on them cold dew o' the night [p]Are strewings fitt'st for graves.
Upon their faces. [p]You were as flowers, now wither'd: even
so [p]These herblets shall, which we upon you strew. [p]Come on, away:
apart upon our knees. [p]The ground that gave them first has them
again: [p]Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain.

Imogen : [Awaking] Yes, sir, to Milford-Haven; which is [p]the way?-- [p]I
thank you.--By yond bush?--Pray, how far thither? [p]'Ods pittikins!
can it be six mile yet?-- [p]I have gone all night. 'Faith, I'll lie
down and sleep. [p]But, soft! no bedfellow!--O gods and
goddesses! [p][Seeing the body of CLOTEN] [p]These flowers are like
the pleasures of the world; [p]This bloody man, the care on't. I hope
I dream; [p]For so I thought I was a cave-keeper, [p]And cook to
honest creatures: but 'tis not so; [p]'Twas but a bolt of nothing,
shot at nothing, [p]Which the brain makes of fumes: our very
eyes [p]Are sometimes like our judgments, blind. Good faith, [p]I
tremble stiff with fear: but if there be [p]Yet left in heaven as
small a drop of pity [p]As a wren's eye, fear'd gods, a part of
it! [p]The dream's here still: even when I wake, it is [p]Without me,
as within me; not imagined, felt. [p]A headless man! The garments of
Posthumus! [p]I know the shape of's leg: this is his hand; [p]His foot
Mercurial; his Martial thigh; [p]The brawns of Hercules: but his
Jovial face [p]Murder in heaven?--How!--'Tis gone. Pisanio, [p]All
curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks, [p]And mine to boot, be darted
on thee! Thou, [p]Conspired with that irregulous devil,
Cloten, [p]Hast here cut off my lord. To write and read [p]Be
henceforth treacherous! Damn'd Pisanio [p]Hath with his forged
letters,--damn'd Pisanio-- [p]From this most bravest vessel of the
world [p]Struck the main-top! O Posthumus! alas, [p]Where is thy head?
where's that? Ay me! [p]where's that? [p]Pisanio might have kill'd
thee at the heart, [p]And left this head on. How should this be?
Pisanio? [p]'Tis he and Cloten: malice and lucre in them [p]Have laid
this woe here. O, 'tis pregnant, pregnant! [p]The drug he gave me,
which he said was precious [p]And cordial to me, have I not found
it [p]Murderous to the senses? That confirms it home: [p]This is
Pisanio's deed, and Cloten's: O! [p]Give colour to my pale cheek with
thy blood, [p]That we the horrider may seem to those [p]Which chance
to find us: O, my lord, my lord! [p][Falls on the body] [p][Enter
LUCIUS, a Captain and other Officers,] [p]and a Soothsayer]

Roman Captain : To them the legions garrison'd in Gailia, [p]After your will, have
cross'd the sea, attending [p]You here at Milford-Haven with your
ships: [p]They are in readiness.

Caius Lucius : But what from Rome?

Roman Captain : The senate hath stirr'd up the confiners [p]And gentlemen of Italy,
most willing spirits, [p]That promise noble service: and they
come [p]Under the conduct of bold Iachimo, [p]Syenna's brother.

Caius Lucius : When expect you them?

Roman Captain : With the next benefit o' the wind.

Caius Lucius : This forwardness [p]Makes our hopes fair. Command our present
numbers [p]Be muster'd; bid the captains look to't. Now, sir, [p]What
have you dream'd of late of this war's purpose?

Soothsayer : Last night the very gods show'd me a vision-- [p]I fast and pray'd for
their intelligence--thus: [p]I saw Jove's bird, the Roman eagle,
wing'd [p]From the spongy south to this part of the west, [p]There
vanish'd in the sunbeams: which portends-- [p]Unless my sins abuse my
divination-- [p]Success to the Roman host.

Caius Lucius : Dream often so, [p]And never false. Soft, ho! what trunk is
here [p]Without his top? The ruin speaks that sometime [p]It was a
worthy building. How! a page! [p]Or dead, or sleeping on him? But dead
rather; [p]For nature doth abhor to make his bed [p]With the defunct,
or sleep upon the dead. [p]Let's see the boy's face.

Roman Captain : He's alive, my lord.

Caius Lucius : He'll then instruct us of this body. Young one, [p]Inform us of thy
fortunes, for it seems [p]They crave to be demanded. Who is
this [p]Thou makest thy bloody pillow? Or who was he [p]That,
otherwise than noble nature did, [p]Hath alter'd that good picture?
What's thy interest [p]In this sad wreck? How came it? Who is
it? [p]What art thou?

Imogen : I am nothing: or if not, [p]Nothing to be were better. This was my
master, [p]A very valiant Briton and a good, [p]That here by
mountaineers lies slain. Alas! [p]There is no more such masters: I may
wander [p]From east to occident, cry out for service, [p]Try many, all
good, serve truly, never [p]Find such another master.

Caius Lucius : 'Lack, good youth! [p]Thou movest no less with thy complaining
than [p]Thy master in bleeding: say his name, good friend.

Imogen : Richard du Champ. [p][Aside] [p]If I do lie and do [p]No harm by it,
though the gods hear, I hope [p]They'll pardon it.--Say you, sir?

Caius Lucius : Thy name?

Imogen : Fidele, sir.

Caius Lucius : Thou dost approve thyself the very same: [p]Thy name well fits thy
faith, thy faith thy name. [p]Wilt take thy chance with me? I will not
say [p]Thou shalt be so well master'd, but, be sure, [p]No less
beloved. The Roman emperor's letters, [p]Sent by a consul to me,
should not sooner [p]Than thine own worth prefer thee: go with me.

Imogen : I'll follow, sir. But first, an't please the gods, [p]I'll hide my
master from the flies, as deep [p]As these poor pickaxes can dig; and
when [p]With wild wood-leaves and weeds I ha' strew'd his
grave, [p]And on it said a century of prayers, [p]Such as I can, twice
o'er, I'll weep and sigh; [p]And leaving so his service, follow
you, [p]So please you entertain me.

Caius Lucius : Ay, good youth! [p]And rather father thee than master thee. [p]My
friends, [p]The boy hath taught us manly duties: let us [p]Find out
the prettiest daisied plot we can, [p]And make him with our pikes and
partisans [p]A grave: come, arm him. Boy, he is preferr'd [p]By thee
to us, and he shall be interr'd [p]As soldiers can. Be cheerful; wipe
thine eyes [p]Some falls are means the happier to arise.

Previous: Act 4 - Scene 1

Next: Act 4 - Scene 3

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