ats the butcher. Where's thy knife? Thou art too slow to do thy master's bidding, When I desire it too. PISANIO. O gracious lady, Since I receiv'd command to do this busines I have not slept one wink. IMOGEN. Do't, and to bed then. PISANIO. I'll wake mine eyeballs first. IMOGEN. Wherefore then Didst undertake it? Why hast thou abus'd So many miles with a pretence? This place? Mine action and thine own? our horses' labour? The time inviting thee? the perturb'd court, For my being absent?- whereunto I never Purpose return. Why hast thou gone so far To be unbent when thou hast ta'en thy stand, Th' elected deer before thee? PISANIO. But to win time To lose so bad employment, in the which I have consider'd of a course. Good lady, Hear me with patience. IMOGEN. Talk thy tongue weary- speak. I have heard I am a strumpet, and mine ear, Therein false struck, can take no greater wound, Nor tent to bottom that. But speak. PISANIO. Then, madam, I thought you would not back again. IMOGEN. Most like- Bringing me here to kill me. PISANIO. Not so, neither; But if I were as wise as honest, then My purpose would prove well. It cannot be But that my master is abus'd. Some villain, Ay, and singular in his art, hath done you both This cursed injury. IMOGEN. Some Roman courtezan! PISANIO. No, on my life! I'll give but notice you are dead, and send him Some bloody sign of it, for 'tis commanded I should do so. You shall be miss'd at court, And that will well confirm it. IMOGEN. Why, good fellow, What shall I do the while? where bide? how live? Or in my life what comfort, when I am Dead to my husband? PISANIO. If you'll back to th' court- IMOGEN. No court, no father, nor no more ado With that harsh, noble, simple nothing- That Cloten, whose love-suit hath been to me As fearful as a siege. PISANIO. If not at court, Then not in Britain must you bide. IMOGEN. Where then? Hath Britain all the sun that shines? Day, night, Are they not but in Britain? I' th' world's volume Our Britain seems as of it, but not in't; In a great pool a swan's nest. Prithee think There's livers out of Britain. PISANIO. I am most glad You think of other place. Th' ambassador, LUCIUS the Roman, comes to Milford Haven To-morrow. Now, if you could wear a mind Dark as your fortune is, and but disguise That which t' appear itself must not yet be But by self-danger, you should tread a course Pretty and full of view; yea, happily, near The residence of Posthumus; so nigh, at least, That though his actions were not visible, yet Report should render him hourly to your ear As truly as he moves. IMOGEN. O! for such means, Though peril to my modesty, not death on't, I would adventure. PISANIO. Well then, here's the point: You must forget to be a woman; change Command into obedience; fear and niceness- The handmaids of all women, or, more truly, Woman it pretty self- into a waggish courage; Ready in gibes, quick-answer'd, saucy, and As quarrelous as the weasel. Nay, you must Forget that rarest treasure of your cheek, Exposing it- but, O, the harder heart! Alack, no remedy!- to the greedy touch Of common-kissing Titan, and forget Your laboursome and dainty trims wherein You made great Juno angry. IMOGEN. Nay, be brief; I see into thy end, and am almost A man already. PISANIO. First, make yourself but like one. Fore-thinking this, I have already fit- 'Tis in my cloak-bag- doublet, hat, hose, all That answer to them. Would you, in their serving, And with what imitation you can borrow From youth of such a season, fore noble Lucius Present yourself, desire his service, tell him Wherein you're happy- which will make him know If that his head have ear in music; doubtless With joy he will embrace you; for he's honourable, And, doubling that, most holy. Your means abroad- You have me, rich; and I will never fail Beginning nor supplyment. IMOGEN. Thou art all the comfort The gods will diet me with. Prithee away! There's more to be consider'd; but we'll even All that good time will give us. This attempt I am soldier to, and will abide it with A prince's courage. Away, I prithee. PISANIO. Well, madam, we must take a short farewell, Lest, being miss'd, I be suspected of Your carriage from the court. My noble mistress, Here is a box; I had it from the Queen. What's in't is precious. If you are sick at sea Or stomach-qualm'd at land, a dram of this Will drive away distemper. To some shade, And fit you to your manhood. May the gods Direct you to the best! IMOGEN. Amen. I thank thee. Exeunt severally SCENE V. Britain. CYMBELINE'S palace Enter CYMBELINE, QUEEN, CLOTEN, LUCIUS, and LORDS CYMBELINE. Thus far; and so farewell. LUCIUS. Thanks, royal sir. My emperor hath wrote; I must from hence, And am right sorry that I must report ye My master's enemy. CYMBELINE. Our subjects, sir, Will not endure his yoke; and for ourself To show less sovereignty than they, must needs Appear unkinglike. LUCIUS. So, sir. I desire of you A conduct overland to Milford Haven. Madam, all joy befall your Grace, and you! CYMBELINE. My lords, you are appointed for that office; The due of honour in no point omit. So farewell, noble Lucius. LUCIUS. Your hand, my lord. CLOTEN. Receive it friendly; but from this time forth I wear it as your enemy. LUCIUS. Sir, the event Is yet to name the winner. Fare you well. CYMBELINE. Leave not the worthy Lucius, good my lords, Till he have cross'd the Severn. Happiness! Exeunt LUCIUS and LORDS QUEEN. He goes hence frowning; but it honours us That we have given him cause. CLOTEN. 'Tis all the better; Your valiant Britons have their wishes in it. CYMBELINE. Lucius hath wrote already to the Emperor How it goes here. It fits us therefore ripely Our chariots and our horsemen be in readiness. The pow'rs that he already hath in Gallia Will soon be drawn to head, from whence he moves His war for Britain. QUEEN. 'Tis not sleepy business, But must be look'd to speedily and strongly. CYMBELINE. Our expectation that it would be thus Hath made us forward. But, my gentle queen, Where is our daughter? She hath not appear'd Before the Roman, nor to us hath tender'd The duty of the day. She looks us like A thing more made of malice than of duty; We have noted it. Call her before us, for We have been too slight in sufferance. Exit a MESSENGER QUEEN. Royal sir, Since the exile of Posthumus, most retir'd Hath her life been; the cure whereof, my lord, 'Tis time must do. Beseech your Majesty, Forbear sharp speeches to her; she's a lady So tender of rebukes that words are strokes, And strokes death to her. Re-enter MESSENGER CYMBELINE. Where is she, sir? How Can her contempt be answer'd? MESSENGER. Please you, sir, Her chambers are all lock'd, and there's no answer That will be given to th' loud of noise we make. QUEEN. My lord, when last I went to visit her, She pray'd me to excuse her keeping close; Whereto constrain'd by her infirmity She should that duty leave unpaid to you Which daily she was bound to proffer. This She wish'd me to make known; but our great court Made me to blame in memory. CYMBELINE. Her doors lock'd? Not seen of late? Grant, heavens, that which I fear Prove false! Exit QUEEN. Son, I say, follow the King. CLOTEN. That man of hers, Pisanio, her old servant, I have not seen these two days. QUEEN. Go, look after. Exit CLOTEN Pisanio, thou that stand'st so for Posthumus! He hath a drug of mine. I pray his absence Proceed by swallowing that; for he believes It is a thing most precious. But for her, Where is she gone? Haply despair hath seiz'd her; Or, wing'd with fervour of her love, she's flown To her desir'd Posthumus. Gone she is To death or to dishonour, and my end Can make good use of either. She being down, I have the placing of the British crown. Re-enter CLOTEN How now, my son? CLOTEN. 'Tis certain she is fled. Go in and cheer the King. He rages; none Dare come about him. QUEEN. All the better. May This night forestall him of the coming day! Exit CLOTEN. I love and hate her; for she's fair and royal, And that she hath all courtly parts more exquisite Than lady, ladies, woman. From every one The best she hath, and she, of all compounded, Outsells them all. I love her therefore; but Disdaining me and throwing favours on The low Posthumus slanders so her judgment That what's else rare is chok'd; and in that point I will conclude to hate her, nay, indeed, To be reveng'd upon her. For when fools Shall- Enter PISANIO Who is here? What, are you packing, sirrah? Come hither. Ah, you precious pander! Villain, Where is thy lady? In a word, or else Thou art straightway with the fiends. PISANIO. O good my lord! CLOTEN. Where is thy lady? or, by Jupiter- I will not ask again. Close villain, I'll have this secret from thy heart, or rip Thy heart to find it. Is she with Posthumus? From whose so many weights of baseness cannot A dram of worth be drawn. PISANIO. Alas, my lord, How can she be with him? When was she miss'd? He is in Rome. CLOTEN. Where is she, sir? Come nearer. No farther halting! Satisfy me home What is become of her. PISANIO. O my all-worthy lord! CLOTEN. All-worthy villain! Discover where thy mistress is at once, At the next word. No more of 'worthy lord'! Speak, or thy silence on the instant is Thy condemnation and thy death. PISANIO. Then, sir, This paper is the history of my knowledge Touching her flight. [Presenting a letter] CLOTEN. Let's see't. I will pursue her Even to Augustus' throne. PISANIO. [Aside] Or this or perish. She's far enough; and what he learns by this May prove his travel, not her danger. CLOTEN. Humh! PISANIO. [Aside] I'll write to my lord she's dead. O Imogen, Safe mayst thou wander, safe return again! CLOTEN. Sirrah, is this letter true? PISANIO. Sir, as I think. CLOTEN. It is Posthumus' hand; I know't. Sirrah, if thou wouldst not be a villain, but do me true service, undergo those employments wherein I should have cause to use thee with a serious industry- that is, what villainy soe'er I bid thee do, to perform it directly and truly- I would think thee an honest man; thou shouldst neither want my means for thy relief nor my voice for thy preferment. PISANIO. Well, my good lord. CLOTEN. Wilt thou serve me? For since patiently and constantly thou hast stuck to the bare fortune of that beggar Posthumus, thou canst not, in the course of gratitude, but be a diligent follower of mine. Wilt thou serve me? PISANIO. Sir, I will. CLOTEN. Give me thy hand; here's my purse. Hast any of thy late master's garments in thy possession? PISANIO. I have, my lord, at my lodging, the same suit he wore when he took leave of my lady and mistress. CLOTEN. The first service thou dost me, fetch that suit hither. Let it be thy first service; go. PISANIO. I shall, my lord. Exit CLOTEN. Meet thee at Milford Haven! I forgot to ask him one thing; I'll remember't anon. Even there, thou villain Posthumus, will I kill thee. I would these garments were come. She said upon a time- the bitterness of it I now belch from my heart- that she held the very garment of Posthumus in more respect than my noble and natural person, together with the adornment of my qualities. With that suit upon my back will I ravish her; first kill him, and in her eyes. There shall she see my valour, which will then be a torment to her contempt. He on the ground, my speech of insultment ended on his dead body, and when my lust hath dined- which, as I say, to vex her I will execute in the clothes that she so prais'd- to the court I'll knock her back, foot her home again. She hath despis'd me rejoicingly, and I'll be merry in my revenge. Re-enter PISANIO, with the clothes Be those the garments? PISANIO. Ay, my noble lord. CLOTEN. How long is't since she went to Milford Haven? PISANIO. She can scarce be there yet. CLOTEN. Bring this apparel to my chamber; that is the second thing that I have commanded thee. The third is that thou wilt be a voluntary mute to my design. Be but duteous and true, preferment shall tender itself to thee. My revenge is now at Milford, would I had wings to follow it! Come, and be true. Exit PISANIO. Thou bid'st me to my loss; for true to thee Were to prove false, which I will never be, To him that is most true. To Milford go, And find not her whom thou pursuest. Flow, flow, You heavenly blessings, on her! This fool's speed Be cross'd with slowness! Labour be his meed! Exit SCENE VI. Wales. Before the cave of BELARIUS Enter IMOGEN alone, in boy's clothes IMOGEN. I see a man's life is a tedious one. I have tir'd myself, and for two nights together Have made the ground my bed. I should be sick But that my resolution helps me. Milford, When from the mountain-top Pisanio show'd thee, Thou wast within a ken. O Jove! I think Foundations fly the wretched; such, I mean, Where they should be reliev'd. Two beggars told me I could not miss my way. Will poor folks lie, That have afflictions on them, knowing 'tis A punishment or trial? Yes; no wonder, When rich ones scarce tell true. To lapse in fulness Is sorer than to lie for need; and falsehood Is worse in kings than beggars. My dear lord! Thou art one o' th' false ones. Now I think on thee My hunger's gone; but even before, I was At point to sink for food. But what is this? Here is a path to't; 'tis some savage hold. I were best not call; I dare not call. Yet famine, Ere clean it o'erthrow nature, makes it valiant. Plenty and peace breeds cowards; hardness ever Of hardiness is mother. Ho! who's here? If anything that's civil, speak; if savage, Take or lend. Ho! No answer? Then I'll enter. Best draw my sword; and if mine enemy But fear the sword, like me, he'll scarcely look on't. Such a foe, good heavens! Exit into the cave Enter BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, and ARVIRAGUS BELARIUS. You, Polydore, have prov'd best woodman and Are master of the feast. Cadwal and I Will play the cook and servant; 'tis our match. The sweat of industry would dry and die But for the end it works to. Come, our stomachs Will make what's homely savoury; weariness Can snore upon the flint, when resty sloth Finds the down pillow hard. Now, peace be here, Poor house, that keep'st thyself! GUIDERIUS. I am thoroughly weary. ARVIRAGUS. I am weak with toil, yet strong in appetite. GUIDERIUS. There is cold meat i' th' cave; we'll browse on that Whilst what we have kill'd be cook'd. BELARIUS. [Looking into the cave] Stay, come not in. But that it eats our victuals, I should think Here were a fairy. GUIDERIUS. What's the matter, sir? BELARIUS.. By Jupiter, an angel! or, if not, An earthly paragon! Behold divineness No elder than a boy! Re-enter IMOGEN IMOGEN. Good masters, harm me not. Before I enter'd here I call'd, and thought To have begg'd or bought what I have took. Good troth, I have stol'n nought; nor would not though I had found Gold strew'd i' th' floor. Here's money for my meat. I would have left it on the board, so soon As I had made my meal, and parted With pray'rs for the provider. GUIDERIUS. Money, youth? ARVIRAGUS. All gold and silver rather turn to dirt, As 'tis no better reckon'd but of those Who worship dirty gods. IMOGEN. I see you're angry. Know, if you kill me for my fault, I should Have died had I not made it. BELARIUS. Whither bound? IMOGEN. To Milford Haven. BELARIUS. What's your name? IMOGEN. Fidele, sir. I have a kinsman who Is bound for Italy; he embark'd at Milford; To whom being going, almost spent with hunger, I am fall'n in this offence. BELARIUS. Prithee, fair youth, Think us no churls, nor measure our good minds By this rude place we live in. Well encounter'd! 'Tis almost night; you shall have better cheer Ere you depart, and thanks to stay and eat it. Boys, bid him welcome. GUIDERIUS. Were you a woman, youth, I should woo hard but be your groom. In honesty I bid for you as I'd buy. ARVIRAGUS. I'll make't my comfort He is a man. I'll love him as my brother; And such a welcome as I'd give to him After long absence, such is yours. Most welcome! Be sprightly, for you fall 'mongst friends. IMOGEN. 'Mongst friends, If brothers. [Aside] Would it had been so that they Had been my father's sons! Then had my prize Been less, and so more equal ballasting To thee, Posthumus. BELARIUS. He wrings at some distress. GUIDERIUS. Would I could free't! ARVIRAGUS. Or I, whate'er it be, What pain it cost, what danger! Gods! BELARIUS. [Whispering] Hark, boys. IMOGEN. [Aside] Great men, That had a court no bigger than this cave, That did attend themselves, and had the virtue Which their own conscience seal'd them, laying by That nothing-gift of differing multitudes, Could not out-peer these twain. Pardon me, gods! I'd change my sex to be companion with them, Since Leonatus' false. BELARIUS. It shall be so. Boys, we'll go dress our hunt. Fair youth, come in. Discourse is heavy, fasting; when we have supp'd, We'll mannerly demand thee of thy story, So far as thou wilt speak it. GUIDERIUS. Pray draw near. ARVIRAGUS. The night to th' owl and morn to th' lark less welcome. IMOGEN. Thanks, sir. ARVIRAGUS. I pray draw near. Exeunt SCENE VII. Rome. A public place Enter two ROMAN SENATORS and TRIBUNES FIRST SENATOR. This is the tenour of the Emperor's writ: That since the common men are now in action 'Gainst the Pannonians and Dalmatians, And that the legions now in Gallia are Full weak to undertake our wars against The fall'n-off Britons, that we do incite The gentry to this business. He creates Lucius proconsul; and to you, the tribunes, For this immediate levy, he commands His absolute commission. Long live Caesar! TRIBUNE. Is Lucius general of the forces? SECOND SENATOR. Ay. TRIBUNE. Remaining now in Gallia? FIRST SENATOR. With those legions Which I have spoke of, whereunto your levy Must be supplyant. The words of your commission Will tie you to the numbers and the time Of their dispatch. TRIBUNE. We will discharge our duty. Exeunt ACT IV. SCENE I. Wales. Near the cave of BELARIUS Enter CLOTEN alone CLOTEN. I am near to th' place where they should meet, if Pisanio have mapp'd it truly. How fit his garments serve me! Why should his mistress, who was made by him that made the tailor, not be fit too? The rather- saving reverence of the word- for 'tis said a woman's fitness comes by fits. Therein I must play the workman. I dare speak it to myself, for it is not vain-glory for a man and his glass to confer in his own chamber- I mean, the lines of my body are as well drawn as his; no less young, more strong, not beneath him in fortunes, beyond him in the advantage of the time, above him in birth, alike conversant in general services, and more remarkable in single oppositions. Yet this imperceiverant thing loves him in my despite. What mortality is! Posthumus, thy head, which now is growing upon thy shoulders, shall within this hour be off; thy mistress enforced; thy garments cut to pieces before her face; and all this done, spurn her home to her father, who may, haply, be a little angry for my so rough usage; but my mother, having power of his testiness, shall turn all into my commendations. My horse is tied up safe. Out, sword, and to a sore purpose! Fortune, put them into my hand. This is the very description of their meeting-place; and the fellow dares not deceive me. Exit SCENE II. Wales. Before the cave of BELARIUS Enter, from the cave, BELARIUS, GUIDERIUS, ARVIRAGUS, and IMOGEN BELARIUS. [To IMOGEN] You are not well. Remain here in the cave; We'll come to you after hunting. ARVIRAGUS. [To IMOGEN] Brother, stay here. Are we not brothers? IMOGEN. So man and man should be; But clay and clay differs in dignity, 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; But not so citizen a wanton as To seem to die ere sick. So please you, leave me; Stick to your journal course. The breach of custom Is breach of all. I am ill, but your being by me Cannot amend me; society is no comfort To one not sociable. I am not very sick, Since I can reason of it. Pray you trust me here. I'll rob none but myself; and let me die, Stealing so poorly. GUIDERIUS. I love thee; I have spoke it. How much the quantity, the weight as much As I do love my father. BELARIUS. What? how? how? ARVIRAGUS. If it be sin to say so, sir, I yoke me In my good brother's fault. I know not why I love this youth, and I have heard you say Love's reason's without reason. The bier at door, And a demand who is't shall die, I'd say 'My father, not this youth.' BELARIUS. [Aside] O noble strain! O worthiness of nature! breed of greatness! Cowards father cowards and base things sire base. Nature hath meal and bran, contempt and grace. I'm not their father; yet who this should be Doth miracle itself, lov'd before me.- 'Tis the ninth hour o' th' morn. ARVIRAGUS. Brother, farewell. IMOGEN. I wish ye sport. ARVIRAGUS. Your health. [To BELARIUS] So please you, sir. IMOGEN. [Aside] These are kind creatures. Gods, what lies I have heard! Our courtiers say all's savage but at court. Experience, O, thou disprov'st report! Th' imperious seas breed monsters; for the dish, Poor tributary rivers as sweet fish. I am sick still; heart-sick. Pisanio, I'll now taste of thy drug. [Swallows some] GUIDERIUS. I could not stir him. He said he was gentle, but unfortunate; Dishonestly afflicted, but yet honest. ARVIRAGUS. Thus did he answer me; yet said hereafter I might know more. BELARIUS. To th' field, to th' field! We'll leave you for this time. Go in and rest. ARVIRAGUS. We'll not be long away. BELARIUS. Pray be not sick, For you must be our huswife. IMOGEN. Well, or ill, I am bound to you. BELARIUS. And shalt be ever. Exit IMOGEN into the cave This youth, howe'er distress'd, appears he hath had Good ancestors. ARVIRAGUS. How angel-like he sings! GUIDERIUS. But his neat cookery! He cut our roots in characters, And sauc'd our broths as Juno had been sick, And he her dieter. ARVIRAGUS. Nobly he yokes A smiling with a sigh, as if the sigh Was that it was for not being such a smile; The smile mocking the sigh that it would fly From so divine a temple to commix With winds that sailors rail at. GUIDERIUS. I do note That grief and patience, rooted in him both, Mingle their spurs together. ARVIRAGUS. Grow patience! And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine His perishing root with the increasing vine! BELARIUS. It is great morning. Come, away! Who's there? Enter CLOTEN CLOTEN. I cannot find those runagates; that villain Hath mock'd me. I am faint. BELARIUS. Those runagates? Means he not us? I partly know him; 'tis Cloten, the son o' th' Queen. I fear some ambush. I saw him not these many years, and yet I know 'tis he. We are held as outlaws. Hence! GUIDERIUS. 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 CLOTEN. Soft! What are you That fly me thus? Some villain mountaineers? I have heard of such. What slave art thou? GUIDERIUS. A thing More slavish did I ne'er than answering 'A slave' without a knock. CLOTEN. Thou art a robber, A law-breaker, a villain. Yield thee, thief. GUIDERIUS. 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. CLOTEN. Thou villain base, Know'st me not by my clothes? GUIDERIUS. No, nor thy tailor, rascal, Who is thy grandfather; he made those clothes, Which, as it seems, make thee. CLOTEN. Thou precious varlet, My tailor made them not. GUIDERIUS. Hence, then, and thank The man that gave them thee. Thou art some fool; I am loath to beat thee. CLOTEN. Thou injurious thief, Hear but my name, and tremble. GUIDERIUS. What's thy name? CLOTEN. Cloten, thou villain. GUIDERIUS. Cloten, thou double villain, be thy name, I cannot tremble at it. Were it toad, or adder, spider, 'Twould move me sooner. CLOTEN. To thy further fear, Nay, to thy mere confusion, thou shalt know I am son to th' Queen. GUIDERIUS. I'm sorry for't; not seeming So worthy as thy birth. CLOTEN. Art not afeard? GUIDERIUS. Those that I reverence, those I fear- the wise: At fools I laugh, not fear them. CLOTEN. 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 Re-enter BELARIUS and ARVIRAGUS BELARIUS. No company's abroad. ARVIRAGUS. None in the world; you did mistake him, sure. BELARIUS. I cannot tell; long is it since I saw him, But time hath nothing blurr'd those lines of favour Which then he wore; the snatches in his voice, And burst of speaking, were as his. I am absolute 'Twas very Cloten. ARVIRAGUS. In this place we left them. I wish my brother make good time with him, You say he is so fell. BELARIUS. Being scarce made up, I mean to man, he had not apprehension Or roaring terrors; for defect of judgment Is oft the cease of fear. Re-enter GUIDERIUS with CLOTEN'S head But, see, thy brother. GUIDERIUS. 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 none; Yet I not doing this, the fool had borne My head as I do his. BELARIUS. What hast thou done? GUIDERIUS. I am perfect what: cut off one Cloten's head, Son to the Queen, after his own report; Who call'd me traitor, mountaineer, and swore With his own single hand he'd take us in, Displace our heads where- thank the gods!- they grow, And set them on Lud's Town. BELARIUS. We are all undone. GUIDERIUS. 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 tender To let an arrogant piece of flesh threat us, Play judge and executioner all himself, For we do fear the law? What company Discover you abroad? BELARIUS. No single soul Can we set eye on, but in an safe reason He must have some attendants. Though his humour Was nothing but mutation- ay, and that From one bad thing to worse- not frenzy, not Absolute madness could so far have rav'd, To bring him here alone. Although perhaps It may be heard at court that such as we Cave here, hunt here, are outlaws, and in time May 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 fear, If we do fear this body hath a tail More perilous than the head. ARVIRAGUS. Let ordinance Come as the gods foresay it. Howsoe'er, My brother hath done well. BELARIUS. I had no mind To hunt this day; the boy Fidele's sickness Did make my way long forth. GUIDERIUS. With his own sword, Which he did wave against my throat, I have ta'en His head from him. I'll throw't into the creek Behind our rock, and let it to the sea And tell the fishes he's the Queen's son, Cloten. That's all I reck. Exit BELARIUS. I fear'twill be reveng'd. Would, Polydore, thou hadst not done't! though valour Becomes thee well enough. ARVIRAGUS. Would I had done't, So the revenge alone pursu'd 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. BELARIUS. Well, 'tis done. We'll hunt no more to-day, nor seek for danger Where there's no profit. I prithee to our rock. You and Fidele play the cooks; I'll stay Till hasty Polydore return, and bring him To dinner presently. ARVIRAGUS. Poor sick Fidele! I'll willingly to him; to gain his colour I'd let a parish of such Cloten's blood, And praise myself for charity. Exit BELARIUS. O thou goddess, Thou divine Nature, thou 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 th' vale. 'Tis wonder 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. Re-enter GUIDERIUS GUIDERIUS. Where's my brother? I have sent Cloten's clotpoll down the stream, In embassy to his mother; his body's hostage For his return. [Solemn music] BELARIUS. My ingenious instrument! Hark, Polydore, it sounds. But what occasion 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 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, with IMOGEN as dead, bearing her in his arms BELARIUS. Look, here he comes, And brings the dire occasion in his arms Of what we blame him for! ARVIRAGUS. The bird is dead That we have made so much on. I had rather Have skipp'd from sixteen years of age to sixty, To have turn'd my leaping time into a crutch, Than have seen this. GUIDERIUS. O sweetest, fairest lily! My brother wears thee not the one half so well As when thou grew'st thyself. BELARIUS. O melancholy! Who ever yet could sound thy bottom? find The ooze to show what coast thy sluggish crare Might'st easiliest harbour in? Thou blessed thing! Jove knows what man thou mightst have made; but I, Thou diedst, a most rare boy, of melancholy. How found you him? ARVIRAGUS. Stark, as you see; Thus smiling, as some fly had tickled slumber, Not as death's dart, being laugh'd at; his right cheek Reposing on a cushion. GUIDERIUS. Where? ARVIRAGUS. O' th' floor; His arms thus leagu'd. I thought he slept, and put My clouted brogues from off my feet, whose rudeness Answer'd my steps too loud. GUIDERIUS. 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. ARVIRAGUS. 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-sweet'ned 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 flow'rs are none, To winter-ground thy corse- GUIDERIUS. Prithee 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 th' grave. ARVIRAGUS. Say, where shall's lay him? GUIDERIUS. By good Euriphile, our mother. ARVIRAGUS. Be't so; And let us, Polydore, though now our voices Have got the mannish crack, sing him to th' ground, As once to our mother; use like note and words, Save that Euriphile must be Fidele. GUIDERIUS. Cadwal, I cannot sing. I'll weep, and word it with thee; For notes of sorrow out of tune are worse Than priests and fanes that lie. ARVIRAGUS. We'll speak it, then. BELARIUS. Great griefs, I see, med'cine 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 distinction Of place 'tween high and low. Our foe was princely; And though you took his life, as being our foe, Yet bury him as a prince. GUIDERIUS. Pray you fetch him hither. Thersites' body is as good as Ajax', When neither are alive. ARVIRAGUS. If you'll go fetch him, We'll say our song the whilst. Brother, begin. Exit BELARIUS GUIDERIUS. Nay, Cadwal, we must lay his head to th' East; My father hath a reason for't. ARVIRAGUS. 'Tis true. GUIDERIUS. Come on, then, and remove him. ARVIRAGUS. So. Begin. SONG 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. Golden lads and girls all must, As 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, must All follow this and come to dust. GUIDERIUS. Fear no more the lightning flash, ARVIRAGUS. Nor th' all-dreaded thunder-stone; GUIDERIUS. Fear not slander, censure rash; ARVIRAGUS. Thou hast finish'd joy and moan. BOTH. All lovers young, all lovers must 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! BOTH. Quiet consummation have, And renowned be thy grave! Re-enter BELARIUS with the body of CLOTEN GUIDERIUS. We have done our obsequies. 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 fit'st for graves. Upon their faces. You were as flow'rs, now wither'd. Even so These herblets shall which we upon you strew. Come on, away. Apart upon our knees. The ground that gave them first has them again. Their pleasures here are past, so is their pain. Exeunt all but IMOGEN IMOGEN. [Awaking] Yes, sir, to Milford Haven. Which is the way? I thank you. By yond bush? Pray, how far thither? 'Ods pittikins! can it be six mile yet? I have gone all night. Faith, I'll lie down and sleep. But, soft! no bedfellow. O gods and goddesses! [Seeing the body] These flow'rs are like the pleasures of the world; This bloody man, the care on't. I hope I dream; 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 judgments, 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 Posthumus? I know the shape of's leg; this is his hand, His foot Mercurial, his Martial thigh, The brawns of Hercules; but his Jovial face- Murder in heaven! How! 'Tis gone. Pisanio, All curses madded Hecuba gave the Greeks, And mine to boot, be darted on thee! Thou, Conspir'd with that irregulous devil, Cloten, Hath here cut off my lord. To write and read Be henceforth treacherous! Damn'd Pisanio Hath with his forged letters- damn'd Pisanio- From this most bravest vessel of the world Struck the main-top. O Posthumus! alas, Where is thy head? Where's that? Ay 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! The drug he gave me, which he said was precious And cordial to me, have I not found it Murd'rous to th' senses? That confirms it home. This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten. 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! [Falls fainting on the body] Enter LUCIUS, CAPTAINS, and a SOOTHSAYER CAPTAIN. To them the legions garrison'd in Gallia, After your will, have cross'd the sea, attending You here at Milford Haven; with your ships, They are in readiness. LUCIUS. But what from Rome? CAPTAIN. The Senate hath stirr'd up the confiners And gentlemen of Italy, most willing spirits, That promise noble service; and they come Under the conduct of bold Iachimo, Sienna's brother. LUCIUS. When expect you them? CAPTAIN. With the next benefit o' th' 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? 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. 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. CAPTAIN. 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