Cymbeline by William Shakespeare
Act 5 - Scene 4
A British prison.
First Gaoler : You shall not now be stol'n, you have locks upon you;
[p]So graze as
you find pasture.
Second Gaoler : Ay, or a stomach.
Posthumus Leonatus : Most welcome, bondage! for thou art away,
[p]think, to liberty: yet am
I better
[p]Than one that's sick o' the gout; since he had
rather
[p]Groan so in perpetuity than be cured
[p]By the sure
physician, death, who is the key
[p]To unbar these locks. My
conscience, thou art fetter'd
[p]More than my shanks and wrists: you
good gods, give me
[p]The penitent instrument to pick that
bolt,
[p]Then, free for ever! Is't enough I am sorry?
[p]So children
temporal fathers do appease;
[p]Gods are more full of mercy. Must I
repent?
[p]I cannot do it better than in gyves,
[p]Desired more than
constrain'd: to satisfy,
[p]If of my freedom 'tis the main part,
take
[p]No stricter render of me than my all.
[p]I know you are more
clement than vile men,
[p]Who of their broken debtors take a
third,
[p]A sixth, a tenth, letting them thrive again
[p]On their
abatement: that's not my desire:
[p]For Imogen's dear life take mine;
and though
[p]'Tis not so dear, yet 'tis a life; you coin'd
it:
[p]'Tween man and man they weigh not every stamp;
[p]Though light,
take pieces for the figure's sake:
[p]You rather mine, being yours:
and so, great powers,
[p]If you will take this audit, take this
life,
[p]And cancel these cold bonds. O Imogen!
[p]I'll speak to thee
in silence.
[p][Sleeps]
[p][Solemn music. Enter, as in an
apparition,]
[p]SICILIUS LEONATUS, father to Posthumus Leonatus,
[p]an
old man, attired like a warrior; leading in
[p]his hand an ancient
matron, his wife, and mother
[p]to Posthumus Leonatus, with music
before them:
[p]then, after other music, follow the two
young
[p]Leonati, brothers to Posthumus Leonatus, with
[p]wounds as
they died in the wars. They circle
[p]Posthumus Leonatus round, as he
lies sleeping]
Sicilius Leonatus : No more, thou thunder-master, show
[p]Thy spite on mortal
flies:
[p]With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,
[p]That thy
adulteries
[p]Rates and revenges.
[p]Hath my poor boy done aught but
well,
[p]Whose face I never saw?
[p]I died whilst in the womb he
stay'd
[p]Attending nature's law:
[p]Whose father then, as men
report
[p]Thou orphans' father art,
[p]Thou shouldst have been, and
shielded him
[p]From this earth-vexing smart.
Mother : Lucina lent not me her aid,
[p]But took me in my throes;
[p]That from
me was Posthumus ript,
[p]Came crying 'mongst his foes,
[p]A thing of
pity!
Sicilius Leonatus : Great nature, like his ancestry,
[p]Moulded the stuff so fair,
[p]That
he deserved the praise o' the world,
[p]As great Sicilius' heir.
First Brother : When once he was mature for man,
[p]In Britain where was he
[p]That
could stand up his parallel;
[p]Or fruitful object be
[p]In eye of
Imogen, that best
[p]Could deem his dignity?
Mother : With marriage wherefore was he mock'd,
[p]To be exiled, and
thrown
[p]From Leonati seat, and cast
[p]From her his dearest
one,
[p]Sweet Imogen?
Sicilius Leonatus : Why did you suffer Iachimo,
[p]Slight thing of Italy,
[p]To taint his
nobler heart and brain
[p]With needless jealosy;
[p]And to become the
geck and scorn
[p]O' th' other's villany?
Second Brother : For this from stiller seats we came,
[p]Our parents and us
twain,
[p]That striking in our country's cause
[p]Fell bravely and
were slain,
[p]Our fealty and Tenantius' right
[p]With honour to
maintain.
First Brother : Like hardiment Posthumus hath
[p]To Cymbeline perform'd:
[p]Then,
Jupiter, thou king of gods,
[p]Why hast thou thus adjourn'd
[p]The
graces for his merits due,
[p]Being all to dolours turn'd?
Sicilius Leonatus : Thy crystal window ope; look out;
[p]No longer exercise
[p]Upon a
valiant race thy harsh
[p]And potent injuries.
Mother : Since, Jupiter, our son is good,
[p]Take off his miseries.
Sicilius Leonatus : Peep through thy marble mansion; help;
[p]Or we poor ghosts will
cry
[p]To the shining synod of the rest
[p]Against thy deity.
Second Brother : [with First Brother] Help, Jupiter; or we appeal,
[p]And from thy
justice fly.
[p][Jupiter descends in thunder and lightning,
sitting]
[p]upon an eagle: he throws a thunderbolt. The
[p]Apparitions
fall on their knees]
Jupiter : No more, you petty spirits of region low,
[p]Offend our hearing; hush!
How dare you ghosts
[p]Accuse the thunderer, whose bolt, you
know,
[p]Sky-planted batters all rebelling coasts?
[p]Poor shadows of
Elysium, hence, and rest
[p]Upon your never-withering banks of
flowers:
[p]Be not with mortal accidents opprest;
[p]No care of yours
it is; you know 'tis ours.
[p]Whom best I love I cross; to make my
gift,
[p]The more delay'd, delighted. Be content;
[p]Your low-laid son
our godhead will uplift:
[p]His comforts thrive, his trials well are
spent.
[p]Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in
[p]Our temple
was he married. Rise, and fade.
[p]He shall be lord of lady
Imogen,
[p]And happier much by his affliction made.
[p]This tablet lay
upon his breast, wherein
[p]Our pleasure his full fortune doth
confine:
[p]and so, away: no further with your din
[p]Express
impatience, lest you stir up mine.
[p]Mount, eagle, to my palace
crystalline.
Sicilius Leonatus : He came in thunder; his celestial breath
[p]Was sulphurous to smell:
the holy eagle
[p]Stoop'd as to foot us: his ascension is
[p]More
sweet than our blest fields: his royal bird
[p]Prunes the immortal
wing and cloys his beak,
[p]As when his god is pleased.
All : Thanks, Jupiter!
Sicilius Leonatus : The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd
[p]His radiant root. Away!
and, to be blest,
[p]Let us with care perform his great behest.
Posthumus Leonatus : [Waking] Sleep, thou hast been a grandsire, and begot
[p]A father to
me; and thou hast created
[p]A mother and two brothers: but, O
scorn!
[p]Gone! they went hence so soon as they were born:
[p]And so I
am awake. Poor wretches that depend
[p]On greatness' favour dream as I
have done,
[p]Wake and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve:
[p]Many
dream not to find, neither deserve,
[p]And yet are steep'd in favours:
so am I,
[p]That have this golden chance and know not why.
[p]What
fairies haunt this ground? A book? O rare one!
[p]Be not, as is our
fangled world, a garment
[p]Nobler than that it covers: let thy
effects
[p]So follow, to be most unlike our courtiers,
[p]As good as
promise.
[p][Reads]
[p]'When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself
unknown,
[p]without seeking find, and be embraced by a piece
of
[p]tender air; and when from a stately cedar shall be
[p]lopped
branches, which, being dead many years,
[p]shall after revive, be
jointed to the old stock and
[p]freshly grow; then shall Posthumus end
his miseries,
[p]Britain be fortunate and flourish in peace and
plenty.'
[p]'Tis still a dream, or else such stuff as madmen
[p]Tongue
and brain not; either both or nothing;
[p]Or senseless speaking or a
speaking such
[p]As sense cannot untie. Be what it is,
[p]The action
of my life is like it, which
[p]I'll keep, if but for sympathy.
First Gaoler : Come, sir, are you ready for death?
Posthumus Leonatus : Over-roasted rather; ready long ago.
First Gaoler : Hanging is the word, sir: if
[p]you be ready for that, you are well
cooked.
Posthumus Leonatus : So, if I prove a good repast to the
[p]spectators, the dish pays the
shot.
First Gaoler : A heavy reckoning for you, sir. But the comfort is,
[p]you shall be
called to no more payments, fear no
[p]more tavern-bills; which are
often the sadness of
[p]parting, as the procuring of mirth: you come
in
[p]flint for want of meat, depart reeling with too
[p]much drink;
sorry that you have paid too much, and
[p]sorry that you are paid too
much; purse and brain
[p]both empty; the brain the heavier for being
too
[p]light, the purse too light, being drawn of
[p]heaviness: of
this contradiction you shall now be
[p]quit. O, the charity of a penny
cord! It sums up
[p]thousands in a trice: you have no true debitor
and
[p]creditor but it; of what's past, is, and to come,
[p]the
discharge: your neck, sir, is pen, book and
[p]counters; so the
acquittance follows.
Posthumus Leonatus : I am merrier to die than thou art to live.
First Gaoler : Indeed, sir, he that sleeps feels not the
[p]tooth-ache: but a man
that were to sleep your
[p]sleep, and a hangman to help him to bed, I
think he
[p]would change places with his officer; for, look
you,
[p]sir, you know not which way you shall go.
Posthumus Leonatus : Yes, indeed do I, fellow.
First Gaoler : Your death has eyes in 's head then; I have not seen
[p]him so
pictured: you must either be directed by
[p]some that take upon them
to know, or do take upon
[p]yourself that which I am sure you do not
know, or
[p]jump the after inquiry on your own peril: and how
[p]you
shall speed in your journey's end, I think you'll
[p]never return to
tell one.
Posthumus Leonatus : I tell thee, fellow, there are none want eyes to
[p]direct them the
way I am going, but such as wink and
[p]will not use them.
First Gaoler : What an infinite mock is this, that a man should
[p]have the best use
of eyes to see the way of
[p]blindness! I am sure hanging's the way of
winking.
Messenger : Knock off his manacles; bring your prisoner to the king.
Posthumus Leonatus : Thou bring'st good news; I am called to be made free.
First Gaoler : I'll be hang'd then.
Posthumus Leonatus : Thou shalt be then freer than a gaoler; no bolts for the dead.
First Gaoler : Unless a man would marry a gallows and beget young
[p]gibbets, I never
saw one so prone. Yet, on my
[p]conscience, there are verier knaves
desire to live,
[p]for all he be a Roman: and there be some of
them
[p]too that die against their wills; so should I, if I
[p]were
one. I would we were all of one mind, and one
[p]mind good; O, there
were desolation of gaolers and
[p]gallowses! I speak against my
present profit, but
[p]my wish hath a preferment in 't.
Previous: Act 5 - Scene 3
Next: Act 5 - Scene 5
