The dramatic works of William Shakspere, from the text of Johnson, Stevens [sic] & Reed, with glossarial notes, his life, etc. by N. Rowe

Hence.

Gui. He is but one: You and my brother
search

What companies are near: pray you, away;
Let me alone with him.

[Exeunt BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS.
Clo. Soft! What are you
That fly me thus? some villain mountaineers?
I have heard of such.-What slave art thou?
Gui. A thing

More slavish did I ne'er, than answering
A slave, without a knock.

Clo. Thou art a robber,

A law-breaker, a villain: Yield thee, thief.
Gui. To who? to thee? What art thou?
Have not I

An 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?

Clo. Thou villain base,

Know'st me not by my clothes?
Gui. No, nor thy tailor, rascal,

I cannot tremble at it; were't toad, or adder, 'Twould move me sooner.

Clo. To thy further fear,

Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know
I'm son to the queen.

Gui. I'm sorry for't; not seeming

So worthy as thy birth.

Clo. Art not afeard?

Gui. Those that I reverence, those I fear;
the wise:

At fools I laugh, not fear thera
Clo. Die the death:

When I have slain thee with my proper hand,
I'll follow those that even now fled hence,
And on the gates of Lud's town set your
heads:

Yield, rustic mountaineer. [Exeunt, fighting.
Enter BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS.

Bel. No company's abroad.

Art. None in the world: You did mistake him, sure.

Bel. I cannot tell: Long is it since I saw him, [favour But time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of Which then he wore; the snatches in his voice, [solute, And burst of speaking, were as his: I am ab 'Twas very Cloten.

Arv. In this place we left them:

I wish my brother make good time with him,
You say
he is so fell.

Bel. Being scarce made up,

I mean, to man, he had not apprehension
Is oft the cause of fear: But see, thy brother.
Of roaring terrors; for the effect of judgement

Re-enter GUIDERIUS, with CLOTEN'S Head.

Gui. This Cloten was a fool; an empty
purse,

There was no money in't: not Hercules
Could have knock'd out his brains, for he had

With his own single hand he'd take us in,t
Displace our heads, where (thank the gods ↳
they grow,

And set them on Lud's town.
Bel. We are all undone.

Gui. Why, worthy father, what have we to
lose,

But, that he swore, to take our lives? The law Protects not us: Then why should we be ten der,

Who is thy grandfather; he made those clothes, To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us;

Which, as it seems, make thee.

Clo. Thou precious varlet,

My tailor made them not.

Play judge, and executioner, all himself;
For we do fear the law? What company
Discover you abroad?

Bel. No single soul

Can we set eye on, but, in all safe reason,

He must have some attendants. Though his | Hark, Polydore, it sounds! But what occasion

humour

Was nothing but mutation;* ay, and that
From one bad thing to worse; not frenzy, not
Absolute madness could so far have ray'd,
To bring him here alone: Although, perhaps,
It may be heard at court, that such as we
Save here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time
Iay 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
If we do fear this body hath a tail
More perilous than the head.

Art. Let ordinance

Come as the gods foresay it: howsoe'er, My brother hath done well.

Bel. I had no mind

[fear,

To hunt this day: the boy Fidele's sickness Did make my way long forth.t

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

Bel. I fear, 'twill be reveng'd: 'Would, Polydore, thou had'st not done't! though valour

Becomes thee well enough.

Arv. 'Would I had done't,

So the revenge alone pursued me!-Polydore, I love thee brotherly; but envy much,

Thou hast robb'd me of this deed: I would, revenges,

That possible strength might meet, would seek us through,

And put us to our answer.
Bel. Well, 'tis done:-

[ger

We'll hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danWhere there's no profit. I pr'ythee, to our rock;

You and Fidele play the cooks: I'll stay
Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him
To dinner presently.

Arv. Poor sick Fidele!

I'll willingly to him: To gain his colour,
I'd let a parish of such Clotens' blood,
And praise myself for charity.

Bel. O thou goddess,

[Exit.

Thou divine Nature, how thyself thou blazon'st
In 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 enchaf'd, as the rud'st wind,
That by the top doth take the mountain pine,
And make him stoop to the vale. "Tis won-
derful,

That an invisible instinct should frame them
To royalty unlearn'd; honour untaught;
Civility not seen from other; valour,
That wildly grows in them, but yields a crop
As if it had been sow'd! Yet still it's strange
What Cloten's being here to us portends;
Or what his death will bring us.

Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark! Gui. Is he at home?

Bel. He went hence even now.

Gui. What does he mean? since death of my dear'st mother

It 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?

Re-enter ARVIRAGUS, bearing IMOGEN, as dead, in his Arms.

Bel. Look, here he comes,

And brings the dire occasion in his arms,
Of what we blame him for!

Art. The bird is dead,

Gui. Where? Arv. O'the floor;

His arms thus leagu'd: I thought, he slept; and put [rudeness

My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose Answer'd my steps too loud.

Gui. Why, he but sleeps:

If 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.

Arv. With fairest flowers,

Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave: Thou shalt not lack The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose;

nor

The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor
The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander,
Out-sweeten'd not thy breath: the ruddock|||
would,

With charitable bill (O bill, sore-shaming
Those rich-left heirs, that let their fathers lie
Without a monument!) bring thee all this;
Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are
To winter-ground¶ thy corse.
[none,

Gui. Pr'ythee, 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 the grave.
Arr. Say, where shall's lay him?
Gui. By good Euriphile, our mother.
Arv. Be't so:

And let us, Polydore, though now our voices Have got the mannish crack, sing him to the ground,

* Trifles. A slow-sailing, unwieldy vessel. + Sta
Shoes plated with iron.
The red-breast.
Probably a corrupt reading, for, wither round thy corse.

As once our mother; use like note, and words, Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain Save that Euriphile must be Fidele.

Gui. Cadwal,

[thee.

I cannot sing: I'll weep, and word it with
For notes of sorrow, out of tune, are worse
Than priests and fanes that lie.

Arr. We'll speak it then.

Bel. Great griefs, I see, medicine the less:
for Cloten

Is quite forgot. He was a queen's son, boys:
And, though he came our enemy, remember,
He was paid for that: Though mean and
mighty, rotting.
Together, have one dust; yet reverence,
(That angel of the world,) doth make distinc-
[princely;
Of place 'tween high and low. Our foe was
And though you took his life, as being our foe,
Yet bury him as a prince.

tion

Gui. Pray you, fetch him hither. Thersites' body is as good as Ajax, When neither are alive.

Are. If you'll go fetch him

We'll say our song the whilst.-Brother, be-
gin.
[Exit BELARIUS.
Gui. Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to
the east;

My father hath a reason for't.

Are. 'Tis true.

Gui. Come on then, and remove him.
Are. So,-begin.

SONG.

Gui. Fear no more the heat o'the sun,
Nor the furious winter's rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,

Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Arv. Fear no more the frown o'the 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, must
All follow this, and come to dust.
Gui. Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Arv. Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Gui. Fear not slander, censuret rash;

Arv. Thou hast finish'd joy and moan:
Both. All lovers young, all lovers must

Consign to thee, and come to dust.

Gui. No exorciser harm thee!
Arv. Nor witchcraft charm thee!
Gui. Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Arv. Nothing ill come near thee!
Both. Quiet consummation have;

And renowned be thy grave!

Re-enter BELARIUS, with the Body of CLOTEN. Gui. We have done our obsequies: Come, lay him down.

Bel. Here's a few flowers, but about midnight more: [night, The herbs, that have on them cold dew o'the Are strewings fitt'st for graves.-Upon their

faces:

You were as flowers, now wither'd: even so
These herb'lets shall, which we upon you

strew.

[Exeunt BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.

Imo. [Awaking.] Yes, Sir, to Milford-Haven; Which is the way?

I thank you. By yon bush?-Pray, how far
thither?

'Ods pittikins!*-can it be six miles yet?
I have gone all night:-'Faith, I'll lie down
and sleep.

But, soft! no bedfellow :-0. gods, and god-
desses!
[Seeing the Body.
These flowers are like the pleasures of the
world;

[dream;
This bloody man, the care on't.-I hope, I
For, 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 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, fear'd gods, a part of it!
The dream's here still: even when I wake, it is
Without me, as within me; not imagin'd, felt.
A headless man!-The garments of Posthú-
mus!

I know the shape of his leg: this is his hand;
His foot Mercurial; his Martial thigh;
The brawns of Hercules: but his Jovial‡
face-
[anio,
Murder in heaven?-How?-Tis gone.-Pis-
All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks,
And mine to boot, be darted on thee! Thou,
Conspir'd with that irregulous devil, Cloten,
Hast here cut off my lord.-To write, and
read,

Be henceforth treacherous !-Damn'd Pisanio
Hath with his forged letters,-damn'd Pis-
anio-

From this most bravest vessel of the world
Struck the main-top!-O, Posthumus! alas,
Where is thy head? where's that? Ah me!

where's that?

Pisanio might have kill'd thee at the heart,
And left this head on.-How should this be?
Pisanio?

'Tis he, and Cloten: malice and lucre in them
Have laid this woe here. O, 'tis pregnant,
pregnant!||
[cious
The drug he gave me, which, he said, was pre-
And cordial to me, have I not found it
Murd'rous to the senses? That confirms it

home:

This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten's: O!-
Give colour to my pale cheek with thy blood,
That we the horrider may seem to those
Which chance to find us: O, my lord, my lord!

Enter LUCIUS, a CAPTAIN, and other OFFICERS,
and a SOOTHSAYER.

Cap. To them the legions garrison'd in GalAfter your will, have cross'd the sea: attendlia, [ing You here at Milford-Haven, with your ships:

They are here in readiness.

Luc. But what from Rome?

Cap. The senate hath stirr'd up the confiners,
And gentlemen of Italy; most willing spirits,
That promise noble service: and they come

This diminutive adjuration is derived from God's my pity.
† An arrow.
A face like Jove's.
Lawless, licentious.
I. e. 'Tis a ready, apposite conclusion.

Under the conduct of bold Iachimo, Sienna's brother.

Luc. When expect you them?
Cap. With the next benefit o'the wind.
Luc. This forwardness

Makes our hopes fair. Command, our present numbers

[Sir, Be muster'd; bid the captains look to't.-Now, What have you dream'd, of late, of this war's purpose?

Sooth. Last night the very gods show'd me a vision: [Thus:(I fast, and pray'd, for their intelligence,) 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 the Roman host.

Luc. Dream often so,

[here,

And never false.-Soft, ho! what trunk is Without his top? The ruin speaks, that some

time

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.

Cup. He is alive, my lord.

Luc. 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
That, otherwise than noble nature did, [he,
Hath alter'd that good picture? What's thy

interest

In this sad wreck? How came it? Who is it? What art thou?

Imo. I am nothing: or if not,
Nothing to be were better. This was my mas-
A very valiant Briton, and a good, [ter,
That here by mountaineers lies slain :-Alas!
There are no more such masters: I may wan-
der

From east to occident, cry out for service,
Try many, all good, serve truly, never
Find such another master.

Luc. 'Lack, good youth! [than Thou mov'st no less with thy complaining: Thy master in bleeding: Say his name, good friend.

Imo. 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, Sir? Luc. Thy name?

Imo. Fidele.

same:

[Aside.

Luc. Thou dost approve thyself the very [naine. Thy name well fits thy faith; thy faith, thy 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 let

ters,

Sent by a consul to me, should not sooner Than thine own worth prefer thee: Go with

Some falls are means the happier to arise.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III-A Room in CYMBELINE'S
Palace.

Enter CYMBELINE, LORDS, and PISANIO.

Cym. Again; and bring me word, how 'tis with her.

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,

I humbly set it at your will: But, for my misI nothing know where she remains, why gone, Nor when she purposes return. Beseech your Hold me your loyal servant. [highness,

1 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.

We'll slip you for a season; but our jealousy
Cym. The time's troublesome:
Does yet depend.
[TO PISANIC.
The Roman legions, all from Gallia drawn,
1 Lord. So please your majesty,
Are landed on your coast; with a supply
Of Roman gentlemen, by the senate sent.
Cym. Now for the counsel of my son, and
queen!-

I am amaz'd with matter.* 1 Lord. Good my liege,

Than what you hear of: come more, for more Your preparation can affront no less you're ready:

The want is, but to put those powers; in moThat long to move. [tion,

Cym. I thank you: Let's withdraw: And meet the time, as it seeks us. We fear not What can from Italy annoy us; but We grieve at chances here.-Away. [Exeunt.

Pis. I heard no letter from my master, since I wrote him, Imogen was slain: 'Tis strange: Nor hear I from my mistress, who did promise To yield me often tidings; Neither know I

* Confounded by a variety of business. + Encounter. + Forces

What is betid to Cloten; but remain Perplex'd in all. The heavens still must work: Wherein I am false, I am honest; not true, to be true. [try, These present wars shall find I love my counEven to the note* o'the king, or I'll fall in them.

All other doubts, by time let them be clear'd: Fortune brings in some boats, that are not steer'd. [Exit.

SCENE IV.-Before the Cave.

Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS.

Gui. The noise is round about us.

Bel. Let us from it.

Aro. What pleasure, Sir, find we in life, to Enter POSTHUMUS, with a bloody Handkerchief.

lock it

From action and adventure?

Gui. Nay, what hope

Have we in hiding us? this way, the Romans
Must or for Britons slay us, or receive us
For barbarous and unnatural revoltst
During their use, and slay us after.
Bel. Sons,

We'll higher to the mountains; there secure us.
To the king's party there's no going; newness
Of Cloten's death (we being not known, not
muster'd

Among the bands) may drive us to a render Where we have liv'd; and so extort from us That which we have done, whose answer would be death

Post. Yea, bloody cloth, I'll keep thee; for I wish'd

[ones, Thou should'st be colour'd thus. You married If each of you would take this course, how many [selves, Must murder wives much better than themFor wrying but a little ?-O, Pisanio! Every good servant does not all commands: Should have ta'en vengeance on my faults, I No bond, but to do just ones.-Gods! if you

never

hither

Had liv'd to put on this: so had you sav'd
The noble Imogen to repent; and struck
Me wretch, more worth your vengeance. But,
alack,
[love,
You snatch some hence for little faults; that's
To have them fall no more: you some permit
To second ills with ills, each elder worse;
And make them dread it to the doer's thrift.
But Imogen is your own: Do your best wills,
And make me bless'd to obey!—I am brought
Among the Italian gentry, and to fight
Against my lady's kingdom: 'Tis enough
That, Britain, I have kill'd thy mistress;
peace!
[heavens,
I'll give no wound to thee. Therefore, good
Of these Italian weeds, and suit myself
Hear patiently my purpose: I'll disrobe me
Against the part I come with; so I'll die
As does a Briton peasant: so I'll fight
For thee, O Imogen, even for whom my life
Is, every breath, a death: and thus, unknown,
Pitied nor hated, to the face of peril
Myself I'll dedicate. Let me make men know
More valour in me, than my habits show.
Gods, put the strength o'the Leonati in me!
The fashion, less without, and more within.
To shame the guise o'the world, I will begin
[Exit.

SCENE II.-The same.

Enter at one side, Lucius, IACHIMO, and the Roman Army; at the other side, the British Army; LEONATUS POSTHUMUS following it, like a poor Soldier. They march over, and go out. Alarums. Then enter again in skirmish, IACHIMO and POSTHUMUS: he vanquisheth and disarmeth IACHIMO, and then leaves him.

Iach. This heaviness and guilt within my bosom

Takes off my manhood: I have belied a lady, The princess of this country, and the air on't Revengingly enfeebles me; Or could this cari,t A very drudge of nature's, have subdu'd me, In my profession? Knighthoods and honours, borne

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The dramatic works of William Shakspere, from the text of Johnson, Stevens ...